#and she'll only get louder from here...

[pearlymel]

A duty— Capitano

Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!

Wc: 3.3k

Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.

Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!

Tick tock.

You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.

Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.

The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.

The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.

You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.

"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.

He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.

"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.

"Member of the fatui Harbingers."

His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.

Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.

You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.

"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.

He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.

"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.

"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.

•••

Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.

And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.

Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.

You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.

As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.

Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.

"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.

The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"

You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."

Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.

"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.

"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.

The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.

"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.

You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.

You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.

"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.

"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.

"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.

"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.

•••

The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.

Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.

Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.

He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."

Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.

He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.

Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.

"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."

You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?

Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.

Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.

His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.

"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.

"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.

"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.

"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.

"Goodnight."

•••

"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.

"The lady should be at her chambers."

"She's not."

"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.

"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"

"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.

You couldn't have escaped, right?

Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.

You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.

"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.

Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Never? It's nice."

"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.

"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.

You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.

"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."

He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"

"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.

Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.

What?

Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!

"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.

But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.

"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?

Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.

You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—

"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."

You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"

"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.

"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.

•••

Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.

But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.

You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.

He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.

The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.

His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.

He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.

Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.

But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.

Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.

Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?

But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.

He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.

"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."

[mssorceressupreme]

Safe With You | K.D.H

———

Pairing: Kang Dae-Ho x reader

Summary: Dae-Ho protects you from bullies <33

Warnings: shy!reader, bullying, protective!daeho, he's so fit ughhh #needthat

———

The tense atmosphere in the room was suffocating, the air thick with tension and unspoken threats. You kept to the edges of the group, hoping to remain invisible. It wasn’t a new feeling—you’d always been the quiet one, preferring to observe rather than engage. Here, in this cruel game, where alliances could mean survival, your shyness felt like a curse.

You pulled your knees to your chest, sitting on the cold floor as the other players talked, schemed, and argued. The sheer chaos of their energy intimidated you. The louder voices, the ones who barked orders or jeered at others, made you feel small. Invisible was safer, or so you thought.

Then came the mocking.

Thanos was the first to notice you sitting there, quiet and still, avoiding eye contact. He nudged Nam-gyu with his elbow, smirking. “Hey, look at her,” he said, his voice carrying across the room. “Little Miss Shy over there. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

You glanced up, startled, but quickly looked away, hoping they’d lose interest. But Thanos was like a shark scenting blood.

“Aw, she’s cute,” Thanos chimed in, his tone dripping with mockery. “Too pretty to talk to us, huh? Or maybe she’s just too good for the likes of us.”

They both laughed, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You tried to focus on the floor, to shrink into yourself, but Thanos crouched down in front of you, leaning in too close.

“Why so quiet?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes sharp. “Come on, say something.” He began stroking your cheek, brushing a strand of hair out your face.

“Please stop,” you whispered, your voice barely audible while you looked down.

Thanos chuckled, leaning closer. “Oh, she does talk. Maybe we should make her talk a little more.”

Namgyu reached out, poking your cheek playfully. You flinched, jerking back, and their laughter grew louder. “Don’t be like that,” Namgyu said, his grin widening. “We’re just having a little fun.”

You stood up quickly, your heart racing. “I said stop,” you said, louder this time, though your voice still wavered.

Thanos grabbed your wrist, his grip firm. “Don’t be so uptight. We’re just getting to know each other." His grip grew harsher, "Form an alliance and much more..." He cooed.

“Let go of her.”

The voice that interrupted was calm but commanding. Dae-ho stepped between you and the two bullies, his expression cold and dangerous. “You heard me,” he said, his gaze locking onto Thanos. “Let her go.”

"Relax man, she'll probably want to be in bed with me by tomorrow." Thanos smirked.

Dae-ho, grabbed Thanos by the collar harshly, lifting him slightly-off the ground, though still holding on to your wrist, "Don't make me ask you again."

Thanos hesitated for a moment, then scoffed, releasing your wrist with a sneer. “Chill, bro. We were just messing around.”

Dae-ho responded by releasing Thanos, his focus shifting to you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softening.

You nodded shakily, rubbing your wrist. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Thanos muttered something under his breath, but Dae-ho shot him a glare that silenced him immediately. “Leave her alone,” he said, his tone final.

The two bullies slinked off, muttering complaints, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Dae-ho turned to you, his expression still serious. “Stick with me,” hi voice soft. “They won’t bother you again.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Can I?” you asked hesitantly. “I mean… can I stay with you? I don’t… I don’t feel safe alone.”

His expression softened further, and he nodded. “Of course. I’ll look out for you.”

Something in his voice, a quiet sincerity, made you believe him. He wasn’t just saying it; he meant it. You felt a strange sense of safety settle over you, like a fragile bubble that only he could create.

Dae-ho introduced you to his group, a small but tightly-knit circle of players who welcomed you warmly. They were kind, in stark contrast to the harshness of the others, and you found yourself slowly relaxing in their presence. But it was Dae-ho you felt most drawn to.

He stayed close to you, checking in often, making sure you had enough to eat or drink. His protective nature made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. You found yourself watching him, memorising the way his hair fell over his eyes when he leaned in to talk, or the way his lips curved into a soft smile when he reassured you.

And he seemed to feel the same pull. He caught your gaze often, holding it a moment longer than necessary, his eyes warm and gentle. When you laughed—rare as it was—his expression would brighten, as though you’d given him a gift.

One night, as the group settled down to rest, you found yourself sitting next to him on his bunk bed, the quiet stretching between you. “Thank you,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

He looked at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “For what?”

“For stepping in,” you said, meeting his warm chocolate eyes. “For… everything. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He smiled, small but genuine. “You don’t have to thank me. I couldn’t just stand by and let them treat you like that.”

You hesitated, then added, “I feel… safe with you.”

His eyes glistened with a mix of pride and adoration, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more. But he only nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your heart race, glancing from your eyes to your lips. “Good,” he said. “Because I’ll make sure you stay safe. Always.”

The quiet promise in his words made your cheeks flush, and you looked away, your heart fluttering in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You finally felt like you weren’t alone, and you hoped, that this, your newfound friendship with Dae-ho would blossom into something more.

[lottiesgrl]

𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁-𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗵 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲

cw: n/a

༉‧₊˚. lottie hasn't always been known to be the most verbal, even before the crash. she had opened up to you about how sometimes it's hard for her to find her voice, and how some days it felt like she could barely speak at all. you'd always been kind with her, gentle and understanding when she didn't want to talk much. you were one of the only ones who really understood her in that regard.

༉‧₊˚. after the crash, you were one of the first people to see her. she'd recognize your voice anywhere. you're crying out for her, trying to be louder than the press with their questions and accusations, and for a moment you see her turn to you and look you in the eye. she looks so much different than when you last saw her. she doesn't say a single word, just keeps that eye contact with you until authorities rush her off.

༉‧₊˚. you spend the entire day with her when she's finally released after they treat her wounds and assess her mentally. her family lets you - to them, it's less effort to try and "fix" their broken daughter. they warn you that they were told she refused to speak, but you don't care. none of that matters. all that matters is that you had your lottie back. you wrap her up into the tightest hug possible, crying and sobbing into her shoulder, and she doesn't say anything. she can't say anything. all she can do is wrap her shaking hands around you and hug you in return.

༉‧₊˚. her parents thought that maybe it was the shock of being rescued that caused her to stop talking. they told you that in time, she should return to "normal", that it would just be a long process. frankly, you aren't listening to any of their bullshit. why should any of that matter? lottie is here, alive, and in your arms. that's what's most important.

༉‧₊˚. she starts to get the hang of "communicating" with you. it starts out small; a tug at your sleeve after you've been lying in bed together for most of the day, followed by gesturing at her lips. you ask if she's hungry and you get a small nod in return. you're grateful that she's started to communicate her needs to you, and you can tell by the telltale glint in her eyes that she's appreciating it just as much as you are.

༉‧₊˚. you also start to notice the way she'll get up at odd hours of the night. you'll wake up at two in the morning to an empty bed, and, concerned for lottie's wellbeing, you'll check every corner of her expansive house to try and find her. you'll usually find her by the glass doors leading out to the porch, staring out into the woods on the outskirts of their lawn. you place a gentle hand on her shoulder, asking if she's ok, and she doesn't respond. you both stay like that for a while, neither one of you moving, until eventually she turns to you and crumples into your arms. you hold her, smoothing a hand over her back until she's calmed down enough to come back to bed.

༉‧₊˚. while you're both more than content to stay like this, there comes a time where you both have to leave the house for one reason or another. you promise lottie that you'll be by her side no matter what, and she nods, tears in her eyes as you cup her face and stroke your thumb over her cheek. from the second you leave, there are reporters swarming you, looking for any information on the details of the crash. you can see lottie tensing up, her grip on your hand tightening by the second. eventually, it all gets to be too much, and you snap at them and tell them all to fuck off because you both have nothing to say to them. you weren't expecting it to work, but to your surprise, they back off slowly. lottie breathes a sigh of relief and gives you a shy smile, squeezing your hand as if to thank you.

༉‧₊˚. being out in public used to frighten lottie. the first time she went out, she was so overwhelmed, and everyone kept looking at her like she was some sort of freak. every time you went to order food, they'd question why she wasn't speaking. she thought that she'd never get used to going in public; however, as always, you were there to help her. from then on, when you went out to eat, you'd always pull up the menu beforehand to make sure you knew what she wanted to eat. you'd even made her a personalized set of communication cards as she hadn't really liked any of the ones she'd seen online.

༉‧₊˚. ever since going non-verbal, you've become really attentive to her smiles. you've always thought that it's the best thing in the world whenever she smiles, and that's even more true after she stops speaking. she had a whole range of smiles, from shy to sad to elated. it took her a really long time to smile after the crash, but you were the first person to see her smile again. you almost burst into tears on the spot.

༉‧₊˚. you love lottie so much, whether or not she's verbal.

[httpiastri]

"lando."

there's no reaction the first time, so the next time, your voice is just a tad louder and you give his shoulder a slight shake.

"lando."

he turns around in bed but only lets out a humming sound in response, his head nuzzling into his pillow. his breath is slow and steady, and you can't really tell if he's actually awake yet. your next words definitely wake him up, though.

"she just kicked."

his eyes fly open instantly, looking at you almost in disbelief. "what?"

"i could feel it, it was so hard," you tell him with a nod. "she really did kick, i promise."

lando almost can't believe his ears. you'd both been waiting for this moment for so many weeks now – a baby's kicks are something every expecting parent eagerly anticipates, after all – and here you are, telling him it finally happened. your little one has been very inactive so far, with basically no movement or activity of any kind. but the doctors and midwives all told you it was normal, nothing out of the ordinary, so you haven't worried.

your little daughter may have been late to the party, but it doesn't matter to either of you – because here you are with a suddenly very much active and living baby in your stomach. suddenly, you have a confirmation that all of this is actually real.

lando lies frozen, so you reach over to grab one of his hands and place it on the side of your stomach, right where you felt the first kick. you're both silent in anticipation, as if your speaking would hinder him from feeling it properly. your eyes shut as you wish over and over that she'll kick again, just to prove that you didn't just imagine things, and just to prove that she's there and alive and well and-

lando's heart almost jumps out of his chest when he feels it. a kick. and quite the strong one, even. he feels his entire body softening as a giant smile reaches his lips. he leans forward slightly, head tilting down towards your bump. "hey there, baby," he starts. "daddy here." his palm strokes up and down your skin. "you're growing and moving already, huh? are you getting ready to come out here and meet us soon?"

as if she's been listening to his words, she answers his questions by kicking yet again. and again. and again. lando's eyes flicker between your face and the bump, mouth gaping wide. you both break out into giggles like a pair of teenagers, smiles so big your cheeks start to hurt. "i'd take that as a yes," you say, intertwining your fingers with his on your belly.

lando leans down to press a sweet kiss to the bump, imagining your little daughter feeling his adoration through your skin. if he could shower her with affection and love already, he would. but he'll just have to wait until she arrives, though every day that passes without him getting to hold her in his arms is unbearable.

"i don't think i'll be able to go back to sleep," you tell him after a few moments of silence. "i'm too eager to feel her kick more."

he nods agreeingly, the excitement inside of him too big to contain, too. now he leans in to kiss your cheek instead, giving your fingers a slight squeeze. "twenty more weeks," he whispers.

"twenty more weeks."

[fluff-n-cookies]

Dabi made a deal with himself the second time he held you in his arms.

-----

Pt2 to this post.

Warnings: angst to comfort, Dabi yells at his daughter, apologizes soon after, Canon typical violence and crime, spoilers, Dabi is a warning of his own. foul language, please inform me if you find more

reader has blue eyes like Dabi's (she's a toddler, 3-4 years old)

Dabi calls reader bunny, Dabi is addressed as "Daddy"

Note: part 3 some time near the end of this month (hopefully)

taglist: @blurryperrtymoonlight @harkenizalone @lostiolite @rllytriedrn @mellyxqz @cupkiki @xxnessinessiellexx @dehlieee

-----

He made a point to remember it as best he could, to practically live by it in that exact moment.

it was midnight when he made such an oath, it was under the careful eye of the bustling city lights that peeked from a window that he promised himself, with you in his arms for the second time, ever.

well, not exactly the second time, he had been carrying you around town all day, either that or having you sit nearby as he ran to steal diapers and formula and what not. He knew he probably shouldn't be leaving a newborn child alone for too long, especially in an abandoned building such as the one he was stationed in right now. but taking you with him was arguably more dangerous, hence why he would consistently bolt to the nearest store and return, out of breath and sweaty. but it's what one has to do.

so after a long, long, long day of running around with a hangover and a crying baby. it was here as he was leaning against a wall, one with cracks in its paint. that he held you. truly held you. tracing burnt fingers along fragile soft skin and occasionally heating the swaddle up with his fire to keep you warm.

he even lit a tiny, tiny little flame, one as small as you, in the palm of his hand to get a good look at you. it being the only thing illuminating the darkness of the room.

"god, you are ugly."

was his first thought, but he seemed quite fond of you nonetheless. but minds like Touya's tend to wander.

you squirmed a little in his grip, occasionally babbling in his lap. that didn't matter much though as Dabi stared into the darkness of night. little thoughts bounced around in his skull.

you'll be a terrible father

they got louder

just like endeavor

even louder

this place is horrible for a child, she probably'll die from infection

please shut up.

you're failing already

thoughts now buzzed in his mind like wasps, stuffy and pounding, mangled and messy. so many thoughts, yet so little time.

you should leave her with an orphanage. at least someone will care for her there.

she has dad's eyes.

she'll end up hating you.

maybe Natsu or Fuyumi will take her-

NO.

his hands shook as he traced his finger over your cheek and fiddled around with the tiny wisps of your hair.

NO ONE'S GOING TO TAKE HER.

his breath picked up, once okay-ish breaths became jagged. no steady inhale or exhale, only sharp puffs in and out. IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN OUT IN--

I'll take care of her.

I'll be better than dad.

his breathing slowed. and you woke up. grumpy and sleepy. he smiled, he rocked you to sleep that night.

at least, that's the story of how his fate was sealed to be a father. a father with no money, no job, no house, no family. only an extensive criminal record and an infant daughter. and he thought he could make it work.

he ended up staying at a homeless shelter for a few days, living off on that, until he managed to steal make enough money until he was able to afford a motel were he stayed like that for a good year or so. moving from motel to motel until he made himself a reputation in the area. he learned how to be a father like that, taking care of you with only the help of mommy blogs and YouTube videos and all those nights where he'd start off by searching how to make baby formula better, but then 4 hours later he'd catch himself watching videos on how to help your child through their first period and crying about how his baby's going to grow up so soon. he ended up getting a condo not long after, only so you could finally have more stability in your life.

and he thought he could make it work.

he could not.

which is also how he came to regret this awful, awful, day. this horrendous, day. this day. this wretched day.

this day when he broke his promise

he wanted nothing more in that moment than to squeeze you tight to his chest and kiss your little face until you felt all better and forget this ever happened. to say sorry a million times over and dry your tears and hear your sweet laughter as he tells you crappy dad jokes just to see you smile. to forgive him, to know that he didn't mean to hurt you, it was an accident, it was just an accident, and he's sorry.

please. please just open the door. please. let him in.

open that goddamn door that he helped you paint a few months after you two moved in. that door that he painted white and let you finger paint all you wanted, you painted little flowers and bees and simply just smeared all the color you could find on it. it's your hand prints, side by side with some of his, it's that colorful mess that reminds him of you.

he grips the little plate of fruit in his hands harder. the slices of oranges and bananas formed into a smiley face quake in his hold. his breath, shaky as he hears the soft sound of your cries through the door, most certainly stuffing your face into your pillows to bawl your eyes out.

oh how did this happen? how did it come to this point? yes it was a hard week. a very hard week. having been scouted to join the league only recently and already preparing for their first attack on UA. he'd been at meetings all day to discuss their strategy and game plan, it seemed to carry on for years if not decades, yet, it had only been an hour. Shigaraki was just so annoying, yapping on about his hatred for heroes. please sir, shut the fuck up, no body cares, continue with your Canva slide show now how we are going to kidnap that one student from the sports festival.

that little brat Toga wasn't much better, creepy at that. Twice was just as annoying, constantly switching. spinner was bearable. but in no way is that what stain would have wanted to represent him. no. this is not right.

it didn't help much either that his skin was so fucking sensitive, having been brunt over and over again from quirk over usage, the burns growing darker and larger with every time he used his quirk. even his own clothes hurt him at that point, the horribly made jacket that he found in a dumpster worked away at his skin, tearing off each cell with it's thread. not to mention. Endeavor was climbing high, so high, he recently broke his own record of the number of civilians saved in a week and the public was going wild for it. practically every other news channel was covering it.

he clenched his jaw, bright turquoise eyes stared into the screen that flashed with endeavors flames, the bright orange being the only thing to illuminate the barren living room. one leg shook uncontrollably.

and you. you just wanted to help your dear old dad with dinner.

you didn't mean to drop that plate! it's true! all you wanted was to help your dad load up the dishwasher. after all, he's been complaining all day about how awful work has been, and when he wasn't complaining, he was silently grumbling at the news channels on the TV! he didn't even want to play Dolls with you today or ask you if you need help with your homework! it was weird, dad was never like this, no he was silly and sometimes rude, but he talked to you. why?

but with the loud crash of the plate and sound of a million little shards of glass scattering across the room came the yelling.

why was dad yelling at you? dad didn't yell.

he just keep shouting and yelling, calling you names. all his words were now jumbled, and loud, so loud, like those songs he listens to on the radio. the ones with the loud drums and music and words that you can understand. he called it "metal" music. what happened to your dad?! why was he being so mean? he called you a brat, he called you useless, he called you worthless. words that you didn't even understand but understood that he didn't say them with any love at all.

why, why why why why why why why why why why why why why----

everything was too much, you couldn't even focus on what he was saying. he was flailing his arms around making gestures and what not. little blue flames crawled from his hands and onto his shoulders. he- he was angry. very angry.

but wasn't the angry that he'd be when you get lost at the park only to show up 5 minutes later, not the angry when he'd find you accidentally spilled all the glitter into the carpet, it surely wasn't the angry he'd be when you accidentally hurt yourself while trying to do something stupid that he told you a million times over not to.

no! no! no! this was the angry that he'd be when that man would come on screen in the middle of a show.

you've broken plates before, plates, bowls, glasses, windows, beds, his ear drums, all at least once. and every time, he didn't get that angry. he'd just sigh like he was disappointed, before checking you for injuries and patching you up with eh unicorn stickers you picked out. he never yelled, only lectured. why as he yelling now!

nothing made sense anymore, the thoughts in your head jumbled and messy and blurry and weird and murky and sad and mean and everything thoughts should not be. why was he angry at you?

everything was suddenly so blurry as the tears welled up in your eyes, one single droplet made it's way down your cheek and crashed into the ground along with the shattered glass of the plate. it stung, the saltiness of those tears stung, everything hurt, please just. make it stop. make it stop.

I suppose it was the tears that finally brought Dabi out of that haze of anger.

this face dropped. what had he done? to his daughter. he swore he'd never...

everything was quiet all of a sudden, apart from the soft sniffles and the creaking of floor tiles as Dabi tried to move closer to you. an expressionless look on his face and eyes that held all the sorrow in the world as he silently watched you cry. Dabi, no, Touya, had yelled at his daughter, and then mad her cry.

why? why is it that of a sudden, everything was normal again, it was quiet like it was normal, and he was acting like everything was normal? it was normal, and it wasn't okay. oh wow can anything be okay after that t he was so mean it's not okay it will never be okay he isn't sorry he's mean. he's a bully! he hates you and he's mean and and and and and and and and... Dad said he loved you. did he lie?

it's getting hard to think, it's hard to speak now for no reason. what is happening! you should run, you should run and scream and cry and I don't know anymore!

so... so you ran, to your room, and you're there. little tiny cuts littered the soles of your feet, from the glass of the plate.

and he's out here. on the other side of your room. holding that damn plate of fruit, the ceramic heating up in his fiery hold.

this was so stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. he was just tired, but rather than being... y'know... a good father. he could hear Endeavor's voice in his own. he could feel the sting of blood seeping from the brunt flap of his tear ducts.

he brought up this hand, practically quivering, the staples practically coming undone from how hard he gripped his arms after you left. the dead cells flaking off beneath his finger nails.

knock knock

please open the door before he kills himself.

a tiny fragile little voice erupts

"no! go away! i- hic don't wanna talk to you..."

oh God it's over, it's over he can't. he really can't. he said he'd protect you, bunny, please just... he wanted to be a good dad.

"I... (Y/n). I'm so s-sorry."

why is it that the sniffles and soft whimpers stop now.

"baby, please, I'm sorry, daddy's sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. can- can we talk?"

silence, then the soft sound of pitter patter on the floorboards make their way closer, and closer. the little jingle of the door handle as you pull at it to get it open.

he's the one that's meant to be helping you open that damn door, you're too short to do it on your own! you, you need him, you need him to help you an you save you and you...

more importantly I guess...

the door creaks open, just a little, he's able to catch a glimpse of your locks of hair, messy, unlike this morning when he did it before you went off to school. have you been pulling at your own hair?

he makes his way through, he tiptoes between the trenches that is your bedroom. pinkish in all the most annoying ways. but, you are seemingly the most annoying of all! a brat, but you're his brat. and you're crying. right there. under your extra fluffy blankets.

the bed creaks softly as he sits down. he doesn't dare look you in the eyes. the plate of fruit securely in his hold.

"(Y/n)."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled,

I was angry, not at you, never you,

but you were there.

and I'm sorry."

silence.

"I cleaned up the plate, are you hurt?

well, there's bandages, if you do I'll get some disinfectant."

silence

"um, I cut you up some fruits too,

I know how much you like watermelon."

silence

"I'll leave you alone now."

a peep.

"dad?" the blankets shuffle.

"y-yeah, bunny?"

"sorry for dropping the plate. and breaking it." he can see your face now, reddish and teary, your eyes look bloodshot! Jesus, how hard where you crying-

"Oh, it's okay, it's only a plate..."

"do you..."

"do I what, bun?"

"do you not love me anymore?"

he will always love you, more than the moon and the sun and the stars and the sea and green grass of spring and the warmth of summer nights and the sting of alcohol down your throat more than the righteous angels love themselves.

"oh, oh bunny,

I will always, always, love you."

he leaned over scooping you up into his arms, placing your tiny little toddler body into his lap.

"don't forget that, don't you ever forget that, daddy loves you, I will always love you no matter what."

his thumb brushed away all those pesky wisps of hair that float in front of your face, sticking to wet cheeks.

and he smiled, a crooked, but loving smile, a smile.

and you smiled back. even through your pain you smiled. oh. oh Thank God! you forgave him. he'd probably carve out his heart in a fit of insanity if you didn't.

"I love you too, daddy."

-----

I lost my mind halfway through this fic. god it sounds so cringe ugghghghfdhgdgdkjgdjhg[ihga[ieshgtpwiuefhwugot4bvaw6eygsdddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddjfsfhsfshjsj oh well, block me if you don't like it I guess

my stuff is right here: Bnha master list, rules for requesting, ask box

send me an ask, I fucking love hearing from you guys.

[wbbwhorez]

kk arnold smut hcs

KK ARNOLD SMUT HC'S

▪︎ Kk definitely initiates sex most of the time . You'd be sitting doing the most basic thing ever, in pj's and tied up hair, and she would just start feeling you up

▪︎she'll start by sliding her hands up your shirt and rubbing your hips a little but will have her hand in your pants 5 minutes later .

▪︎she always leaves hickeys everywhere , just to mark her territory even though everyone already knows your hers.

▪︎she's a MUNCHHH

▪︎she has a hair pulling kink but will never admit it

▪︎she does one thing with her tongue that makes you feel sooo good, and you can't seem to figure it out

▪︎ yall own a strap but only use it like 2-3 times a week because kk says she "likes to feel you on her fingers"

▪︎there's no dom in the relationship. Both of you guys switch

▪︎ pouts when you tap out even though you had been going at it for like 5 rounds

▪︎" Babe ,pleasee, one more round, and I'll stop"

"You're like a feral animal, kk ! Stop it, " you say and then agree not even a second later

▪︎refers to the strap as her dick and makes you say it (you love it)

▪︎She doesn't get jealous easily but when she does the jealous sex is SOOOO good

▪︎ slaps your ass from behind during backshots

▪︎"cmon, baby, give me one more" while you both are on your 4th orgasm

▪︎makes you moan louder each time and doesn't care about the multiple complaints she gets from nearby dorms

▪︎HATES it when you try to cover your mouth or do anything else to hide you moans, and she WILL pull your hand away from your mouth

▪︎ "lemme hear them moans, baby "

︵ ‿︵‿୨♥︎♡︎♥︎୧‿︵‿︵

First thing I've written on here!!

[hanniescookie]

DESPERATELY IN NEED OF JEONGHAN. GIRL!DAD JEONGHAN. (I've already requested sm from nini, it's time for you.)

HOW ABT A MISCHIEVOUS DAD JEONGHAN WHO, ALONG WITH HIS LITTLE BABYGIRL, LOVES TO DO SILLY PRANKS ON READER?!!?!??! OH MY GOOODDDDD. (pls make him down bad pls llsplsplsplslpslspsl)

silly little pranks - yjh

—⁠☆ your husband and his carbon copy collectively make you want to pull your hair but you love them too much so you let it pass ~

warnings/genre - fluff, slice of life, comfort, est. relationship, married life, dad! jeonghan, menace jeonghan and menace daughter, extremely cute stuff ig, not proofread

word count - 1K

@kissbyoon i hope you enjoy your girl dad jeonghan feast even though it didn't entirely turn out like i expected 🫶🏻

“Daddy, can I draw a cat on you?”

Jeonghan stares dumbly at his five year old daughter who's gazing up curiously and innocently at him. She looks like she's had the best idea ever, and she will collapse if she doesn't turn her dad’s face into a cat's.

He purses his lips, before smiling softly. His fingers thread in her hair as he keeps his phone aside. “Yuwonie, my baby, how will you draw a cat on me?”

Yuwon huffs, as if he's asked the most obvious question. For a while, she seems like she doesn't want to answer, but then she climbs up on the couch, and reaches up to his face. She touches his nose with her index finger, “I'm going to draw the nose here,” then she moves to his cheek. “And whiskers here.”

Oh.

Jeonghan giggles, holding her closer to himself. Honestly, he would let his baby do anything to him, and doodling a cat on his face is very mild. He doesn’t mind the idea of going out with cat features if it means he can tell people that he has the most adorable daughter who did this to him.

But he's Jeonghan, and his love language happens to be silly little pranks. His daughter is a tiny baby, so he doesn't tease her as much. He just spoils her, and compliments her, and never says no to her. But he does tease the mother of his baby. His bigger baby.

His brain autopilots in any situation, thinking of how he can turn it into a harmless prank towards his wife.

There have been instances where Jeonghan hid your phone and watched as you frantically searched the entire house for it, only to reveal it was in a ridiculously obvious location. He's also set your alarm clock to go off an hour earlier than usual, just to see your reaction when you realize you've been fooled.

And ever since Yuwon has grown up, he's made her his accomplice.

On many occasions, they have joined forces to play pranks on their favorite target. They often hide together behind the couch, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out and startle you. He's also been caught teaching his daughter how to make silly faces and noises behind her mother's back, only to burst into a fit of giggles together when they're caught. And then there was the time they conspired to cover the kitchen floor in a sea of cereal, just to see the look of horror on your face.

He can't wait to turn this idea of his precious little one against you. “Okay baby, I get that, but I have a better idea.”

Yuwon’s eyes widen in fascination. She doesn't even have to ask before he speaks up again.

“How about we draw a cat on mommy’s face instead?” His voice is a conspiratorial whisper, and he knows he's succeeded in convincing her if her excited face is anything to go by. “Yes! She'll be surprised when she wakes up, right?”

“Right!” He remarks, confirming her assumption and earns a louder giggle from her. It makes his heart warm and he instinctively presses a kiss on her cheek. “Let's go, then!”

You are a heavy sleeper, unlike Jeonghan. There could be a loud concert in your room and you would still be dead asleep.

Hence, it's easy for Jeonghan and Yuwon to execute their plan. The bed dips beside you when they both get in, still making sure to be discreet and silent in case you wake up.

Jeonghan urges Yuwon to start with it, and for a second she looks scared of waking you up. But then she reaches out, and carefully draws a triangle on your nose, making sure to not let her hands touch you too much.

Jeonghan watches with a proud grin on his face, trying not to laugh aloud as Yuwon adorns your beautiful face.

She sits back, holding her laughter back once she's done. Jeonghan pulls her closer to himself, giving her a deliberate, silent hi-fi.

Now he just has to wait till you're up. He's ready to hear a Yoon Jeonghan get here right now from the bathroom once you see your face in the mirror.

But that's not what happens. It has barely been twenty minutes since he came out with Yuwon and is now building Lego sets with her. You storm out of the room, fixing your hair and rubbing your eyes.

He is surprised to see you like that, but more amused. You look so cute, barely woken up and looking like a cat. He nudges Yuwon to see, and she can't help the giggle that leaves her. “Good morning, mommy!”

You spare your two sunshines a glance, giving them a heartfelt smile while still walking towards the main door. “Good morning, baby. Hannie, did the bell not ring? There's a parcel at the door.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widen a little as you swing the door open, but it's too late. You're already in front of the deliveryman — a stranger who sputters a little at the sight of your doodled face.

You have no idea why your husband and your daughter are suddenly beside you, their faces threatening to burst into laughters. And you are super confused because why is the deliveryman suppressing his smile too?

Once you've closed the door and kept the parcel on the table, you face both Jeonghan and Yuwon, who look at each other and burst out laughing.

“What's so funny?” You inquire through an even tone despite your heart warming at the sight.

“Mommy, it was daddy’s idea!” Yuwon points at her dad, who widens his eyes. “Hey baby! You can't just blame me! You said you wanted to draw a cat!”

You stand there, watching the exchange between them before you frown, annoyed at being left out like that. You turn on your heels, and make your way to the bathroom to freshen up — huffing aloud to show that you were mad.

Jeonghan can't help chuckling more at the pout that Yuwon sends his way. "She's mad now."

He scoots a little closer to her, and as if on cue, she joins him in his counting, both of them opening their fingers one by one.

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

"Yoon Jeonghan, get here right now!"

Your voice echoes through the house and Jeonghan sighs knowingly, his mischievous smile intact as he holds Yuwon's tiny hand in his large one before standing up. "Guess we're gonna have to make it up to her."

You are beyond baffled by the time your husband and his carbon copy come to the bathroom. You point at your face in exasperation. "You're telling me that the deliveryman literally saw me like this?"

Yuwon uses her best technique instantly — affection. Her tiny arms wrap around your legs as she stares up at you with big, innocent eyes. Exactly like her father's. "Mommy. You look so cute like this!"

Jeonghan senses the flicker of ease on your face as he leans against the doorframe, smiling fondly at you. "I'm sure the deliveryman found you cute as well."

You glare at him, except you're threatened by your own emotions. You struggle to not smile. "This isn't funny, dear husband. What if I went out like this? What if I attended my scheduled zoom meeting like this?"

Jeonghan chuckles, shaking his head like he knows you're talking nonsense. "Come on dear wifey, do you usually go out without using the bathroom first? Do you attend meetings directly after waking up? Of course Yuwon knew you were gonna see yourself in the bathroom mirror. Are you saying our baby isn't smart enough to limit the prank?"

You open your mouth to say something but Yuwon detaches herself from you, pouting. "Mommy, am I not smart enough?"

Jeonghan snickers, knowing well enough that his daughter is putting up an act. He gets baffled at how good she's at using her charms to get out of situations. Just like him.

You stare at Jeonghan in astonishment, before looking back down at the precious creature who almost convinces you that she's indeed upset. Almost.

You pick her up, sitting her on the counter. "No, baby. You're very smart. Extra smart. You can fool anyone. And you're lucky that I love you."

She giggles aloud, making you smile. "What if this doesn't come off now? Do you expect mommy to stay like this all day?"

Yuwon instantly shakes her head mid-laugh, watching as Jeonghan comes behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Daddy will help you wash it. He has solutions for everything!"

You feel Jeonghan's lips on the side of your head, and your smile only widens. "That's right. I'll wash it off for you."

You twist your neck to look at his gorgeous face, and sigh defeatedly. "You're also lucky I love you."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

© HANNIESCOOKIE - plagiarism is strictly prohibited

[venusindelusion]

Giving In (to the Love): Townie

1st chapter

SUMMARY: If you thought you had terrible luck before, tonight will definitely prove that your life is jinxed when a misunderstanding with a pink haired girl makes your college life a little more difficult. WC: 1.3K PAIRING: Vi (Arcane) x Fem!Reader WARNINGS/TAGS: MDNI, mentions of alcohol, drugs (weed), underage drinking, miscommunication, and obviously cursing. A/N: I'm currently obsessed with Vi and I need more slow burn fics of her so this is totally self indulgent. Also, english isn't my first language so apologies if there is (surely) any mistakes, please enjoy :) more notes at the end btw Next chapter

The loud music throbbed through the walls, echoing in your head as you were waiting outside the bathroom door. It felt like you've been standing there for ages, waiting for whoever was inside to finally let you have the chance to go to the bathroom. You knock on the door again, awaiting an answer, but all you can hear is the sound of that damn music, so you decide to go downstairs again.

Putting a feet in front of the other feels painfully unnatural, all you want to do is lay down and puke somewhere, but you couldn't find any spot that wasn't crowded and you certainly don't want your classmates seeing you in that state. It would be so embarrassing if someone took a picture of you vomiting the noodles you had for dinner because you were so lazy to cook a proper meal before drinking. Now you regret it.

Once you reach the final step of the stairs, you look for your phone in one of your pockets. It's a good thing you decided to wear cargo pants instead of a dress; otherwise, in your state, you would have lost your purse with your phone and little money with it.

"Why are the letters so tiny?" you tried to text your friend, she brought you here and she should be the one to save you now, "She'll understand," you think as the only word you're able to type and text her is "Out".

Looking around you see some people dancing, couples sticking their bodies together and things getting heated. You can feel your legs trembling a bit, unable to hold your weight much longer, your head spinning and the music painfully penetrating your ears. Your friend is nowhere to be seen and you're getting nautious again, so you decide to walk to the kitchen and get some water.

"Fuck, where is it?" you wander around in this unfamiliar house for what felt like forever until you catch a glance at someone coming out from a room with bottles in her hands. You don't recognize her from class, you would've noticed her peculiar blue hair and long braids, and how she looks a bit younger than you or your classmates. She looks back at you with her eyes wide open like a deer in headlights, then laughs and continues her way to what you presume is the backyard. You figure that if she got alcohol bottles from there, there must be water as well.

"Bingo!" you scream a little louder than you'd like once you cross the door and see the kitchen, walking to the fridge and taking out a bottle of water. You feel your phone vibrating inside your pocket, you take it out and read your friend's "Coming." reply while taking a sip of that sweet and very much needed liquid.

"Fuck!" you spit the remainings of it, feeling your throat burning and your stomach growling even more than before. Who puts vodka inside a water bottle?

You lay against the kitchen counter for a bit in a lame attempt to stay focused, you just have to stay put and wait for your friend to come find you from wherever she was in this damn house.

Determined to not pass out, you go outside following the blue haired girl's trail to get some fresh air. You feel like your head is going to explode, you've been taking for granted your ability to walk without stumbling into things. Your eyes feel heavy, blinking slower everytime as you work your way outside and coordinate your brain and hand to open the door.

It's way less crowded than you thought, only a few people smoking and chatting, you see a couple making out against the wall like no one can see them. But you can. And it's disgusting.

The air is a bit refreshing, definitely better than the smells of heated bodies, booze and weed that filled the house inside. Not that it makes you any less wasted, but it's something. You go around the house trying to find a spot where no one can see you once your stomach decides it can't take it anymore and you see the blue haired girl from before laying down with her eyes closed and empty bottles surrounding her. She's passed out. Walking as quickly as you can to her, you shake her body and try to wake her up. She does nothing besides groaning and mumbling nonsense, so you start to panic and look around you, begging internally that you can find anyone who's more sober than you to help this girl. Your stomach keeps growling at you and your throat burns, tightens, threatening to throw out all the damn booze you drank before. God, what were you thinking?

The world spins around you as you try to focus your vision on this girl and you were right, she is definitely much younger than you, no alcohol should have been near her at first. You reach for her hand, trying to free the bottle from its hold so you can try and sit her up, worried that she'd throw up and drown in her own puke. It takes all your drunk strength to push the bottles around and move her body. While you're grabbing one of the bottles to throw it away, you hear heavy steps coming closer to you and thank the heavens for hearing your pleading; it must be the help you needed.

You turn around and see a muscular figure, heavy boots stomping on the ground with fierce and her pink hair fluorescent in the lights; she looks back at you with a scowl, her hands in fists and quickens her pace. You gulp.

The air around you gets thicker, heavier, hotter; it's like she's inhaling every atom of oxygen while you shrink down to shrump size, getting closer to you as your head is spinning, trying to focus your vision and stand up.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" she asks, her face so close to yours that the air exhaled feels like a shot straight into your face.

You only manage to mumble something incoherent and she pulls you aside, making you stumble over your own feet as she is starring at the bottles.

"She's wasted…" you hear her whispering to herself, scrunching over to caress the younger girl's face and removing the lose hairs from it, "you gave her fucking booze?" she turns around and stares at you, her gaze filled with rage and frustration, you can feel it burning your eyelids.

"No, I—” your brain is betraying you, you put your hands against the wall trying to remain on your feet and explain the situation, but your throat is threatening to let it all out for good.

She clicks her tongue and lifts the young girl from the ground, holding her like she weights nothing on her arms and takes off, leaving you feeling miserable and confused.

You hear a voice calling your name and fast steps approaching, you turn your head and see your friend. Relief washes over your body, your legs no longer able to hold you standing and you give in so you sit on the grass.

"Cait…" were the only words coming out of your mouth in a whisper before you throw out and felt your eyelids closing themselves.

A/N: comments and reviews are appreciated! if you want more let me know :) i have a long series in mind for this

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being kind and civil with people who drive me insane?

So this is something that happens all the time and it's a pattern so to save your time, I'll only mention the one incident which that I got called out for several times, it's starting to make me think I might be TA.

I (34F) work in a grocery store. Maddy (???F) works in the security department and is in charge for looking through our grocery to ensure we didn't steal anything (our workplace is uncomfortably strict about this since many employees have stole in the past) She is very rude, I never liked her. She makes me so uncomfortable a lot because she yells all the time. At everyone. She never realized how offensive she is.

Anyway, sometimes I'd walk past her after my shift forgetting that I'm carrying grocery bags etc and she'd yell at me to get back there. It's always embarrassing because anyone who witnesses that would most likely assume I'm a shoplifter because of the way she's yelling. She yells about other stuff too mind you, don't think I always forget the fact I'm carrying grocery. They don't allow us to bring our bags inside and we have to keep them in our locker (according to her, I never heard this elsewhere). She yells at me if I try to take my purse with me if I'm in a hurry. She says it's ~the rules~ and we need to follow them but like, she the only security staff who's this strict about it. The others don't even bother to check our groceries because they trust we don't shoplift and it's actually stupid because we could still shoplift anyway and hide the items in our pockets and they don't perform a body check anyway (they used to in the past but were legally required to stop because of Covid).

How do I deal with her though? Every time she'd yell, I reply to her very calmly and attempt small talk to absorb her anger. For example, if she's angry about my grocery, I'd show them to her and ask stuff like "what is you favorite brand of milk/bread/egg etc etc"

She does engage but it never made her actually stop and think about her behaviors for a single second. I have always stopped to chat with her whenever I can and she always speaks calmly when I do, but returns to yelling when I "break the rules" as she says.

But here's the thing. My patience is limited. I'm like a battery, if you keep charging me, I'll eventually explode. I planned remaining civil with Maddy forever, but enough is enough and I accidentally lashed out. I lashed out on her ONCE only, I yelled much louder than she did, for 30 minutes, lecturing her about work etiquette. She was so surprised and taken aback. She told me "where did this all come from?" Like she didn't see it coming? She seriously mistook my patience and tolerance of her behaviors for friendliness. And that was the last time we talked, I reported her to HR the next day because I don't think she'll ever get the memo, and that's when I learned thst so many employees have complained about her already but they can't fire her because she an outsource and has strong connections in her company, management has already talked to her numerous times but she just doesn't listen, so don't call me TA for not communicating, it doesn't work with her.

My friend Gloria (28F) and many others including our manager (F30s) told me I should've not been chatting with her, I should just ignore her and disengage. They think the fact I'm talking kindly to her will just make her assume she isn't doing anything wrong and encourage her to keep behaving like that, and that she'd think I want to be friends??? None of that is my intention. I just want to be civil to her to indirectly get her to realize her behaviors weren't acceptable. I'm setting a good example for her, to learn from me how she should treat people and soften her heart.

I was called TA because they said I didn't have to be civil with her if I knew I might eventually lash out (but lashing out isn't something I planned??), and I should've just avoided her and set boundaries. Gloria told me it's an AH move to go out of my way to interact to someone I despise when ignoring them is an option and that makes me two faced and makes the people around me wonder if I truly like them or I'm basically tolerating them, but this wouldn't happen if I they weren't rude in the first place?

BTW a similar thing eventually happened with Gloria because her attitude sucked with me and I lashed out eventually because enough is enough, she said she should've known not to trust me because of how I treated Maddy and I shouldn't have befriended her if I "hated" her so much. AITA?

[avatarloverfrfr]

DreamWalker Siblings

Jake x Sister! Reader; Omatikaya x Dreamwalker; Tsu���tey x Reader

Chapter V: Accepted!

[pt.1] [pt2] [pt3] [previous]

Masterlist

Summary: Y/n and Jake Sully. Siblings, shipped off into the depths of space to explore the mysterious world of Pandora.

The doors hiss open.

Cold air brushes against my skin, sterile and sharp. It smells like metal and false promises.

Bootsteps. Heavy. Slow. Familiar.

"Well, I'll be damned," he says, his voice full of mockery. "Didn't expect you to show up alone. No blue entourage?"

I stay silent. Jaw clenched.

He steps into view, that confident smirk like a scar that never healed. "If I knew it'd take your sister dying slowly to bring you crawling back... hell, I'd have done it sooner."

My breath catches. I glare at him, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. "I'm here for her. Help me, and I'll agree to whatever you want."

His laugh rings in the air, cold and sharp. "Always the hero, huh?" He leans closer, eyes narrowing. "You'll agree as long as she gets what she needs. That's the deal, right?"

I don't flinch, but the guilt pulses louder than his voice, "I just need you to help her."

He studies me for a long beat. Then, with a half-shrug and a look, he motions toward the door. The deal already struck, "She'll get what she needs Jake," he says, voice low. "And you'll get what you need."

"No one needs to know Quaritch."

"No one will, Sully."

I nod once, the weight of the agreement sinking into my bones, like my old uniform.

The RDA corridors blur behind me as I move toward the Avatar compound. The cold subsides, but not from the air, from me. The shift between these two worlds is more than physical.

One side is military grade boots and loaded weapons. The other, white coats, blinking monitors and clinical hope.

I move past the techs without a word. They don't look at me, just keep tapping away at screens. My eyes fixed to a pod.

Y/n's pod.

She hasn't opened her eyes since it happened. Wires curl across her body like vines from a dying forest, clinging, invasive, unnatural. Her eyes twitch, like she wants to open them but is trapped.

"Signs of deep divergence. Her mind's anchoring where it shouldn't," a tech mutters nearby while monitoring her brain scans.

I swallow hard. My mind racing with only one thought.

She was right.

We don't belong here.

A hand lands on my shoulders, Grace.

"Hey," she says gently. "You ready to link back up, Marine?" Her eyes flicker to the pod. She knows where I've been staring.

I don't answer right away. I watch the monitors, watching her. the heart monitor blinks steady. Her eyelids twitch like she's caught in a storm and can't wake up.

"Check her vitals again," I say quietly. "Make sure she's holding on."

"Will do," Grace says quietly. I climb into the pod, the lid starting to lower.

Just before it seals, she says, "Jake.. check on here. Over there."

I close my eyes and sink back into the world we chose.

Learning to ride an ikran, we call 'em banshees, is the test every young hunter has to pass. But to do that, you gotta go where the banshees are.

The climb is brutal. My fingers burn with every grasp of the coarse, slick vines. The cliffs loom above me, endless. Below is just sky and certain death.

The wind howls past, dragging my braids behind me, slicing cold across my skin, whispering warnings in every gust.

I glance down. Jake grunts a few feet below, sweat beading on his brow, jaw clenched. "I'm gonna fall before we even get to the dangerous part." he mutters.

"Keep climbing." Tsu'tey calls down. His voice crisp, unbothered. His silhouette is certain, fluid. Moving like the mountain was carved for him.

Jake and I climb, not like Na'vi, like outsiders. Strong sure, but clumsy. We're used to metal gym floors, not vine draped cliffs and sheer wind tunnels. Our bodies are strong in this form, but the mountain demands more than muscle. It demands grace.

I grit my teeth and continue the climb anyway.

By the time I reach the top, my arms tremble, lungs burning. I haul myself over the ledge and collapse onto the stone, chest heaving.

The Hallelujah Mountains —Ayawa Ikran stretch out in all different directions before me, surreal and sacred. The waterfall spills into the open sky. Wind curls around us like a spirit.

Neytiri ululates as she lands beside us with her ikran, her face calm.

Then I see them, ikrans.

Massive. Primal. Wild.

Talons grip the stone. Wings twitch, ready to launch. Eyes gleaming with warning. They watch me, waiting.

"Which Sully will go first?" Tsu'tey asks, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

I glance at Jake, "I guess I can do it."

"You go alone," Neytiri says softly. "They must choose you."

I move through them slowly. Careful. Each step calculated.

One by one, the ikran's screech and take off, wings cracking the air. Until only one remains.

It outstretches it's wings in defence. I lock eyes with it.

It's body glows a deep teal, lightning-like orange streaks webbing across its back and it's wing like etched fire. Sky-blue tips shimmer like sharpened glass. Crimson flashes at it's joints like exposed muscle.

It's face is carved from steel blue bone. Coppery red beak. Gold eyes fixated on me.

I remembered what Tsu'tey had told me the night he told me the night before, "You will know it picked you... because it will try to kill you."

Then it lunges.

I dive away just in time. It's wing clips me— I slam against a stone, the wind knocked out of me, gasping. Pain shoots through my ribs.

I scramble up, heart pounding, vision spinning.

I swing the lasso.

I miss.

It shrieks, charges.

I roll away, ribs screaming. It slams into me, pinning me down. Talons tear across my arms, sharp, hot pain. Blood spills. The other ikrans scatter, screeching and launching skyward.

I thrash beneath it, trying to free my arms out of its talons. I draw my knees up and kick hard.

I hiss— my first real one.

The sound shocks me.

Tsu'tey's voice thunders from the edge, "Make the bond!"

The beast snarls back, louder, furious.

Tsu'tey throws the replacement lasso. It sails through the air and lands next to my pinned down open hands. Reaching for it I snatch it, loop fast, trying to hold on.

The lasso snaps loose.

It barrels into me, we roll.

Falling off the edge.

"Y/n!" Jake yells.

"Tsahaylu!" Neytiri's voice cuts through the chaos.

Air screams past my ears. Rocks blur. My stomach lurches. We're falling, too fast, too far

Still fighting I claw at it's queue my fingers fumbling, slick with blood. It twists. We spiral.

I grab the tendrils. We connect.

Her panic floods into me like a wave. Her heart pounding like a war drum. Her instincts. Her wings shudder, no control. She's fighting. Thrashing. The panic isn't just hers anymore. It's mine.

We're spiralling together, two creatures locked in one freefall

I try pour calm through the bond— "It's okay. I've got you." I whisper to to her. The wind roars. The ground races up.

Her wings snap open, hard. The air catches. We jolt upward, bodies lurching, but we don't crash.

We rise.

I can feel her, the weight of her wings, the push of the wind under us, the wild rhythm of her heart syncing with mine.

She's still afraid, but she trusts me.

She chose me.

And I chose her.

I did it.

-

The Na'vi say that every person is born twice. The second time is when you earn your place among The People, forever.

"You, are now children of the Omaticaya." Eytukan's voice holds a weight I can almost feel pressing down on me. A slight smile tugs at his lips.

Jake stands to my left, Neytiri beside him. I catch Jake's eyes and offer a small smile. He returns it, grinning like a fool, before mouthing "Oora" and for a moment, it feel like home.

The hands of the Omaticaya rest on my shoulders, strong, steady. Then Tsu'tey's hand settles on me from behind. The weight heavy, real. A quiet pulse of accomplishment stirs within me.

My eyes sweep across the crowd, elders welcome us, children wide eyed with curiosity, no judgement, only acceptance. The kind of acceptance that makes you want to breathe deeper, even when it feels impossible.

The forest darkens, but the celebrations burst into life. Firelight dances on faces and the sounds of children's laughter fills the space between the trees. The Omaticaya dance around the fire as the sounds of drums play.

I get pulled into the dance, the sounds of laughter and cheering from the other Na'vi as they watch me join them. The rhythm pounds beneath my skin, and I mimic the graceful moves of the women around me, knowing I stumble but letting the joy wash over me anyways.

A laugh bubbles up, light. My gaze flickers toward the treeline. Neytiri and Jake slip away, vanishing into the shadows, away from the fire, away from the attention.

I don't follow, don't ask questions, paying no mind to them. Instead I lose myself in the moment, free, moving breathing. It takes me back, back to the cramped shack we called a home, where Tommy and I danced, the air thick with hope and reckless joy.

I remember Tommy spinning Jakes wheelchair, Jake cursing him out and laughing, all of us tangled in a mess of life and love.

Tommy would've loved this night. I can see him practicing the steps, waiting for the right moment to shine.

Slowly I drift away from the fire, away from the celebration. Away from The People.

Through the glowing flora. To the stream.

Kneeling, I look down at my reflection.

The reflection wavers with the ripples of the stream.

Golden eyes. Blue skin. Stare back at me.

Alien.

I'm starting to forget who I am.

What colour is my skin, after not stepping outside for months in my human body— my real body?

Was my hair longer now? Or was it more matted, considering I've been laying in that pod for months now.

Did I smile like this?

Did my hearing used to be this sharp?

Did I see this clearly?

Didn't my hands feel softer than this?

Did I like the way I looked?

Did I used to breathe this easily... or did I just forget the weight of the mask?

Did I

Did I ever feel this strong before?

Did Jake even notice I stopped asking about her— me.

Did I disappear the moment I didn't wake up?

Did my brain choose to stay here?

Did I choose this deep down?

Did my head always feel this loud when it's quiet?

Did I always wake up not knowing if I was asleep?

Did the headaches start before I stayed too long... or after?

Did I hear a voice in my head that wasn't mine?

Did I used to feel... this far away?

Did I lose myself the moment the bond held longer than it should have?

Did my brain severe the connection?

Did it?

"I don't want to forget." I whisper.

The water reflects grief.

"I don't want to be only this."

Leaves rustle behind me—

Tsutey.

"You look like someone mourning your own celebration."

I say nothing.

He steps forward but doesn't sit, not yet.

"Why me?" The words choke out, directed like a dagger aimed at him.

"Why!" I slap the water, shattering my reflection as tears roll down my face.

Silence.

"I don't even remember my own face," I whisper to myself, shutting my eyes.

I feel Tsu'tey walk beside me before kneeling. "Eywa does not choose lightly. You are meant to be here."

"I didn't ask to be."

"But you are."

He looks at the stream. "Your past lives in you. Not your skin."

His voice is steady. Quiet. Genuine. Not the cocky warrior who called me a demon everyday straight just a month ago.

We sit in silence for a long while, the sounds of distant celebration behind us.

Then he stands and offers you his hand. I don't say anything as we walk back to the hometree together. The firelight illuminating the edge of my sorrows.

This time, as the drums rise again, Tsu'tey does not vanish into the shadows. He stands with me, close, not touching but present.

"You are good at the dance of The People." He says softly trying to cheer me up.

I arch a brow. "You saw me dancing the whole time?"

"I've always seen you." I smile at that happy that he admitted it not knowing the underlying tones of the words that he just uttered.

He smiles. It's small. Barely there, but it's real.

He turns before I can say anything more to him.

I don't chase him, just watch as he moves back to his hunting friends, his stoic expression slips back into place.

Turning back to the celebration the firelight reflects across my face, the warm night bringing every one together.

"I'm one of The People," I whisper.

okay hey im back, my birthdayyyyyy is SOOOONNNNN 24 JUNE🤘🤘🤘🤘😭 anyways it's kinda short, kinda dont care💋 luv ya

Taglist:

@trainboom @bdhcghjj @ikeyniofthetayrangi @neytirismissingtoe @justcameheretoread @humbug5 @saturnhas82moons @jdbxws @hau-ming-8 @nonamevenus @fatimatabintou @pink-sunrise-56 @fatimabintou

[the-voldsoy]

Alrighty it is almost the end of the year so, in no particular order, here are podcasts I recommend of the ones I've listened to this year! (let me tell you picking favourites for this was So hard) (Unfortunately I can't just do all of them because there are almost 50)

Hello From The Hallowoods: The world ended, but we're still here, and shit's weird. (Has made me cry; even the trees are queer; my comfort show<3)

Camp Here And There: Good morning campers! The time is 7:63AM and Cabin Magpie Moth has spontaneously combusted! Whichever one of you little woodworms can put it out first can come get a puffy sticker from me in the Nurses Cabin! (Is it a horror? Is it a comedy? I don't know, you'd have to check to be sure)

Wooden Overcoats: Funn Funerals used to be the only funeral parlor on the island. It isn't anymore. (Sitcom, the main characters are the most miserable wet cats you ever did see)

Re: Dracula: Maybe this year, they'll be okay. Maybe this year they'll all live. Maybe this year he won't go, and she'll be alright.

Magnus Protocol: TMA's louder, bolder, less serious younger sibling.

The Silt Verses: Oh boy. Let me tell you, you will look at crabs differently after this. (WET horror, genuinely the best pod I've ever heard)

Archive 81: Dan, a newly hired archivist, has to listen to and catalogue a set of old audio tapes. The tapes contain interviews conducted by someone Dan has never heard of. Dan is in an isolated bunker in the middle of the woods. Surely nothing will happen to our dear friend Dan. (What is it with archivists and getting snatched by The Horrors? Ignore the tv show it doesn't exist)

Red Valley: Just a couple of guys with an interest in research station Red Valley, whose focus was cryonics. It's completely defunct now. I wonder what happened. (Ethics? What's that?)

Woe.Begone: Some say it's about time-travel, some say it's about keeping yourself and those close to you alive, some say it's about online safety. All can agree on one point: What the fuck why are there cowboys now

Midnight Burger: Midnight Burger is a time-travelling, dimension-spanning diner. Dunno how it works or where it's going next. We open at six! (The episodes are an hour long minimum but it's worth it. Comedy sci-fi, lighthearted fun :)

Old Gods of Appalachia: The Appalachians are spooky y'all. (The narrator's voice is so comforting in this, it feels like campfire stories)

Dreamboy: Went into this pod being told it was made by the people who made WTNV and absolutely no other information. Let me tell you I did not expect the main character to tell us that he got a hard-on in the first episode. (The most sexually explicit pod I've listened to)

The White Vault: Nice little trip to Svalbard to check on the remote research station, surely nothing will go wrong :) (Holy Fucking Shit What Is That) (Recommend 1st season especially to The Thing (1982) enjoyers)

Camlann: Ever wished that you were apart of Welsh folklore or Arthurian legends? Or perhaps some of the last people left on Earth? No? Ah well, you'll pick it up soon enough. (Three idiots and a dog in Wales, fighting for their lives)

Breaker Whiskey: Imagine. Being the only person on earth. Just you. Just you, and someone on the radio. Just you, the radio, and a woman you absolutely do NOT have sexual tension with. (This one looks really long because it has 260+ episodes, but they're like 4 minutes long each so it's not really)

Ethics Town: Don't worry about it. (Cannot recommend enough, it is a mindfuck)

Tell No Tales: What if ghosts were a thing that could infest a place, like rats or roaches or mold? What if it was your job to exterminate them? And the million-pound question, do ghosts deserve rights? (I am waiting so so patiently for the rest of s2)

Remnants: You wake up in a place you recognise. You have always been there. You have no idea where you are. You see a stranger's life. You recognise them. You knew them once, you think. Discard or reshelve? You don't know what that means. It does not matter. Discard or reshelve, that is the question. (I am going insane over this pod)

Not Quite Dead: Vampires! Alfie is an overworked A&E nurse who does not have time for this shit. Unfortunately, he does not have a choice in this matter. (A really interesting take on vampirism, going into the biology. It is fascinating, and an exciting story)

Travelling Light: Space Quaker! Listen to the Traveller tell you about every new planet and civilisation they visit. Whattttt noooo they don't have a crush on one of their crew members what are you taaaalking abouttttt (Very comforting pod, beauty in the mundane in a way? But not mundane because yk. Aliens)

Someone Just Like You: Brilliant horror, just really well written. I don't even have words for it. So far there are only 6 episodes and the concepts/plots of each seem cheesy, but my GOD the execution.

The Bright Sessions: People with powers get therapy! Thank God, they need it so bad. (I love one particular antagonist so much, I need to put him in a microwave)

Poe: Evermore: It wasn't until I started this that I realised that Edgar Allen Poe would have had a Boston-ish accent. Reallyyy interesting story of his life, and I keep getting jumpscared by VAs I recognise. Faulkner Silt Verses what are you doing here.

Witherburn After School News: Your school radio host getting WAY more involved in the news than they should. Really hope they're still breathing. Love the folklore section though!

Before The Tone: Voicemails from someone who just got a job they probably shouldn't have. (Brilliant idea for the format, and great execution)

I Am In Eskew: What if you were trapped? What if you had a home, a wife and a child? What if they aren't real? Are you sure? Go and check. What if your city tried to kill you? What if it loved you very much, more than anyone else? (Horror but the narrator is the saddest wettest man you've ever heard)

Sherlock & Co: Modern day Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson is a true crime podcaster. Dear God I did not think it would be as compelling as it is.

[thef1diary]

i just realized i accidentally send my dirtbag!carlos thots to em instead of you... oh well. i'm sure she'll enjoy them 😮‍💨

dirtbag!carlos eating you out like a starved man😵‍💫 he'd go slow enjoying, every little sound coming from you. as your breathing gets heavier and moans louder it's like a switch has been flipped inside him. he doesn't stop until he's made you cum at least twice.

random side note: as someone with a lip piercing AND nose rings i've always wondered if the other person can feel them? my lip piercing isn't that noticeable apparently but idk about my nose rings... i'll have to conduct a study!

🩵

— haha em surely enjoyed them but nonnie?!?!? holy fuck this thought is soooo hot, fanning myself over here 🥵 and ooh? I only have ear piercings, but the temptation of getting a nose piercing is like super high rn. For this drabble, let’s pretend you can feel his nose piercing. 18+ content below

The room is dimly lit, a faint orange glow from the streetlamp outside casting shadows on Carlos’s sharp features. He’s on his knees in front of you, every inch of him exuding trouble—his leather jacket open just enough to show a glimpse of his hairy chest, a chain glinting at his neck. Dark hair falls messily over his forehead, but your focus keeps shifting between the black hoop and stud adorning his ears and the glint of the silver ring in his nose. The piercings, paired with his cocky smirk, make him look like he walked straight out of your most dangerous fantasies.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he drawls, voice rough with a teasing edge. His large hands grip your thighs, spreading you open for him. “You’re the one who begged for this, remember?”

Before you can muster a response, his tongue flicks out to taste you, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the first bite of a meal. The wet heat of him has you gasping, your hands flying to grip his thick hair. He chuckles darkly against you, the vibration of it making your thighs tremble.

The ring of his nose piercing brushes against your clit, a sensation so maddeningly delicious that your hips jerk up instinctively. “Yeah, there it is,” he mutters, lips dragging over you. “Knew you’d like that.”

Carlos takes his time at first, mapping you out with his tongue, licking and sucking until your moans spill freely from your lips. He hums in satisfaction every time you react, letting you feel the scruff of his jaw and the cool press of his piercings as he pushes you closer to the edge.

But then your breathing turns ragged, your cries louder, and his composure snaps like a thread pulled too tight. A groan escapes him, low and feral, before he locks his arms under your thighs, yanking you impossibly closer.

“Oh, nena, you sound and taste so sweet,” he rasps, the heat in his eyes burning straight through you. His tongue plunges deeper, faster now, his lips relentless against you. Your pleas and curses only spur him on. He’s ravenous, devouring you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

The first orgasm rips through you, your thighs trembling around his head. Carlos doesn’t even pause, his mouth unyielding as he draws out your orgasm until you’re nearly overstimulated, the slick sounds of his efforts only fueling your undoing. He grins wickedly when you whimper, his thumb replacing his tongue briefly to rub at your swollen clit.

“One more,” he orders, his voice roughened with lust. His teeth nip at your inner thigh, just enough to make you yelp. “You can take it. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Before you can protest, his tongue is on you again, his nose piercing sliding deliciously against your pussy. He doesn’t let up until your second orgasm crashes over you, leaving you a writhing mess beneath him.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, glistening with evidence of his handiwork. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, smirking like the devil himself. “Told you I’d make you scream,” he taunts, his voice dripping with arrogance as he leans back, taking in the sight of you wrecked and breathless.

“And I’m just getting started.”

want more dirtbag!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[ranchracoon]

Soothing Touch Pt. 2

Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem Reader

*NSFW Warning*

*Oral, fingering, virgin reader, unshaved reader, yandere Alcina*

Soothing Touch Pt. 1

Her lips are softer than you expected, her lipstick smudges when your once shy, sweet kiss turns into something needier. You make the second move; wrapping your arms around her neck to which she takes as an invitation to scoop you up into her arms. Your legs wrap around her waist as she carries you easily, the muscles in her arms protrude from her dress sleeves. There's no bed in this room, so she opts for the next best thing: the couch. Not exactly romantic for your first time but you're too consumed in her lips to care where she lays you, so long as she touches you in the end. The couch sinks under your weight, you loosen your grip on her and breath out nervously, feeling your heart racing in your chest. What's left of her lipstick marks your exposed neck and collarbone as she showers them in affection. 

"My lady-" you start.

"You can call me Alcina my dear, I wish to hear you moaning my name here shortly."

That sends a fluttering heartbeat down your abdomen to between your legs making you swallow. 

"Alcina" you mutter softly. 

Her golden eyes flash to you as she hovers over you, "yes?"

"I've never-I-" you stutter out. 

"I know dear. I'll be gentle."

Despite her size, and very true to her word, she is remarkably gentle with you. She pulls your shoes off first, then your stockings which only amplifies the heat growing between your legs. She sits you up to unzip your dress, slowly removing it to expose you only in your underwear. Once done, she moves back to your neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh and making you tilt your head to allow her more access. As she does so, your hands travel around her shoulders and rest there, nervous to move them any further. 

She expertly removes her gloves all while still kissing your neck, she lightly bites down and you feel her k9s sinking in. A nervous skip in your heart makes you tense thinking she's changed her mind and will suddenly drain you dry. Her fangs don't break the skin but they do leave a perfectly sized bruise in the form on her mouth. She unsnaps your bra with the flick of her fingers, and with her other hand removes it entirely before easing you back down on the couch. Your chest heaves as you watch her descend upon your breasts, her head twice the size of them making you feel small. A blush rushes to your cheeks as you become aware of just how small you are compared to her, she could easily crush you or slice you in half. 

"Relax darling" she whispers.

You try. Breathing through your anxiousness before she looks up at you once again. 

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No. Please no."

"If you do, do not hesitate to speak up. I won't be angry."

You nod your head and suck in another deep breath before she takes one of your breasts in her mouth. You let out a pent up sigh and allow your head to drop back, with one arm now hanging over the back of the couch and the other gripping the opposite edge. Her tongue flicks around your nipple, circling it around before she gently grinds her teeth against it. You let out a soft moan, scared to be any louder for fear someone, especially her daughters, might hear. One one nipple is nice and perky, she moves to the other, giving it equal attention before leaving a trail on burning kisses down your abdomen. She inhales deeply and sighs once she gets close to the apex of your legs, you clench your legs together out of embarrassment but she'll have none of that. 

Carefully she spreads your legs open for her, the cool air hits your slick and sends a shiver up your spine. You're absolutely drenched and she loves it that she has that effect on you. She leaves one kiss right above your cunt before her fingers wrap around the edges of your panties and pull down in one, swift, motion. You swallow and keep your head leaned back, closing your eyes as you brace yourself. Despite everything you've ben led to believe, she is remarkably gentle with you. She kneels on the other end of the couch and leans over, placing a chaste kiss over your cunt before using her fingers to spread your bush and expose your clit. 

She descends upon you, her mouth latching onto its target and making you cover your mouth to suppress the moan.  Her mouth devours your clit, with her tongue swirling it around before running along the length of your cunt. Your hips lift off the couch with her tongue before dropping back down, as if her tongue has its own gravitational pull. The only thing keeping the entire castle from hearing your lewd moans is your hand firmly grasped over your mouth. Her tongue teases your entrance and sends shivers of electricity over your body, you rock your hips greedily as if silently begging her to take you. You happily give yourself to her, all of you, never having been touched before but right now it feels right. 

It takes every amount of restraint to keep from pinning you down and fucking you with your arms tied behind your back. She wants to hear you, she wants those insolent maids to know who you belong to, she wants her name to be the last word from your lips. But she can't. Alcina must be gentle otherwise she risks hurting you, but she loves how you whine and moan so needily for her. Alcina brings one of her fingers down your cunt, and slowly enters you at a snails pace. You gasp and flinch, the brimming pleasure now replaced with a shooting pain, but she continues to suck your clit sending your body mixed signals. Alcina tenses when she smells the blood from your broken hymen, she never did get to taste your untainted blood but what she's tasting now is far superior.

She eases her finger further in, loving the feeling of your walls slowly loosening for her as it bottoms out inside you. One finger is enough for you, you can feel it inside you without her moving at all and you gently grind down on it as the pain subsides. Once you begin rocking your hips, she slowly pulls her finger out then pushes it back in, and even adds a little curl to it. You moan louder into your hand, arching your hips into her hand as she continues this pace. You gasp loudly and remove your hand, gripping onto the couch as your body tenses and your hips lift upward. 

"Don't stop" you whine. 

Alcina smirks to herself, how tempting to edge you right now but she'll be kind. This time. She curls her finger again and feels your walls contract, your swollen clit is sucked and gently grinded against with her teeth. Everything explodes and your entire body trembles with waves of burning euphoria. Heat covers your entire body, your legs shake and clench around her head as your hips rock up and down with your orgasm. 

"Oh Alcina" you moan out. 

She removes her finger and you tremble from the loss, heat coating your cunt as you moan softly suddenly feeling empty and lost. She lifts her head up and smiles down at you before she shifts and hovers over your face. 

"I'll let it slide this time, considering it was your first time, but next time I want to hear those pretty moans otherwise I'll have to tie up your hands."

"N-next time?" You breathe out. 

She chuckles lowly, "oh yes my dear."

*         *         *

Something has changed within you, and within Alcina. The last time she felt this, protective, over someone was when her daughters were created. She made sure that one of them or herself was with you at all times, in case any other maids decided to try something. Alcina made you move into her private chambers, where she doesn't let you go a night without making you orgasm. During the day she'll paint your neck and collarbone with lipstick kisses, marking her territory to anyone and everyone. She doesn't act the same anymore, she gets defensive and possessive when you're brought up. She's threatens staff who dares to work in the same space as you, but then she's a completely different person in bed with you. She's gentle, mindful, takes her time and worships you. 

One unfortunate day while she was away on business with the other lords a man broke into the castle distracting her daughters. This gave the perfect opportunity for the staff to strike while your guard was down. Even though they knew it may cost them their lives. When she returned and found your wretched state, you saw a side of her that made you remember why she is a feared lord of the village. She grabbed you, hard enough bruises would form later and pulled you to her. 

"Who did it?" She asked venomously. 

You shook your head. 

"Was it the same people from last time?"

You hesitated before nodding your head. 

"Give me their names. Now."

You shake your head again. 

"Stop protecting them! It's either them or you. Tell me or else-"

You look up at her which gives her pause, without you word challenging her. Or else what? She'll throw you in the dungeon? Drain you? You're useless in her wine, she made certain of that. The only thing she could do is kill you, which would be kinder than what they did to you. She releases your arms upon realizing how hard she's grabbing them, any harder and she could have snapped your bones. 

"Please love, tell me who did this to you."

She has a point, it's either them or you, and why should you protect them? They clearly would not give you the same grace. You fold, and give her the names and the moment they leave your lips she stands and leaves the room. There's a beat of silence before a blood curdling scream sends a chill down your spine and you cover your ears. That does little to mute the sounds of giggling followed by more screaming which is cut short. She returns a moment later, scooping you into her arms and carrying you gently to her private bathroom. 

"I'll take care of you dear."

Master List

[beneathsilverstars]

i love to explain my opinions so here's my actual drinking headcanons

siffrin - doesn't seem to get tipsy. he mostly just gets less anxious, which means he's less worried about saying the wrong thing but also less concerned with pushing himself to talk, so he's basically behaving the same way and just having different emotions about it! they appear perfectly stone-cold sober until they eventually suddenly hit drunk drunk and now they're liable to fall flat on their face and not remember it the next morning. takes a while to get there though, they may be small but they're also prone to alcoholism. (drinking to self-medicate mental illness is not a good idea, everyone.)

mirabelle - thinks beer smells nasty; wine's better, but grape juice is one of the worst fruit juices to begin with so eh. she'll have a hard cider on occasion or a fruity mixed drink, but only one and maybe not even the whole thing. she doesn't like feeling weird and she gets worried about acting weird!

isabeau - gets tipsy on half a mixed drink and then gets steadily more drunk from there. historically hasn't gone past two drinks in a row for fear of messing up his himbo persona, though he metabolizes it fast enough that if he's staying out late he can have another drink or two. being drunk turns isabeau into even more of a clown; he wants to have fun and he wants everyone else to have fun and more importantly he wants them to like him!! he'll fetch the next round, tip generously, share his food, join unwise schemes just because someone asked him to and pointing out the risks would make him seem like a square, etc.

odile - would drink vodka straight out of the bottle and get reckless as a youth. good thing cars don't exist! she no longer believes that she's too smart to make stupid decisions, but she still likes to cut loose with a couple shots, which she's very consistent about: she knows exactly how much alcohol will get her pleasantly buzzed without leading to a hangover. she's a lot more open and social when she's drunk. she's happy enough with her usual dry humor and too-old-for-this attitude, but sometimes it's nice to have an excuse to get uncharacteristically silly and dramatic for an evening instead!

p��tronille: doesn't drink. she says it's because she has too many responsibilities, but she doesn't like to be around drunk people, either.

euphrasie: likes wine. she might have a glass or two to unwind after a long day, or pop open a nice vintage on a special occasion. she's willing to try other drinks, but she already knows what she likes the best and she's definitely not looking to get wasted. being too impaired makes it hard to do all the things she wants to do! she's more affectionate when she's tipsy, which is saying something because she's already quite enthusiastic and loving and touchy.

claude: prefers other substances, but isn't opposed to drinking. she's not picky about what the drink is, though she likes to try weird mixed drinks and euphrasie's wines and homemade brews. she doesn't see the point of having one or two drinks; if she's having more than a sip then she's getting blasted. she isn't a very inhibited person anyway, so she's not very different while drunk, just even louder and more distractible.

loop: can't get drunk because they can't consume anything. if they could, and weren't pulled into the party by siffrin immediately post-canon, they'd be physically dependent on alcohol within a month.

[sxcretricciardo]

IN TIME

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

"Danny, you need to come to terms that might be a possibility." You say. You're now almost 9 months pregnant with Daniel's baby. Your due date is next weekend, which is also the weekend of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the last of Daniel's F1 season. The thought of not having your boyfriend of four years by your side in the most important day of both your lives terrifies you, but you came to terms that might be a strong possibility.

Daniel sighs and says "I know... Just the thought of it makes me nauseous." His eyes are fixed on the road in front of him as he drives.

"If it happens, it's gonna be okay, I promise you." You say, squeezing his free hand in reassurance.

"I just want to be there, that's all." He says.

"I know, love. I don't want anyone but you there too, believe me. But you have a good chance of coming third in the championship and I don't want you to give that away." You say, giving him a soft smile. You know Daniel has been working his ass off this season to be on that podium and it all comes down to this last race.

"Thank you for your support, sweets." He says, giving you a forced smile.

"We're not gonna overthink this, okay? If it happens next weekend, then it happens. If it doesn't, even better. She'll come when she's ready." You say, putting your hand on your belly.

"She's a daddy's girl, I know she'll wait." He says, smiling.

"Okay, yeah." You say and roll your eyes.

He laughs and continue the journey to the nearest McDonald's. Your baby girl has been craving a Big Mac for days now, and since Daniel came home for a couple of days, it's the best opportunity to finally eat one with your boyfriend.

-one week later-

Danny was right. Your due date was yesterday and your baby girl is still warm and cozy inside your belly. Daniel boarded the plane and is now in his way to the house. You are now sitting on the couch waiting for him, your hand is gently rubbing your belly.

You hear the door open and then close. Danny calls out to you and you tell him that you're in the living room. He comes in and sits on the couch right next to you, his head immediately falling gently on your belly, as he hugs you and your unborn daughter.

"Thank you for waiting, princess." He says, kissing your belly. He lifts his head and then kisses you on the lips.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Just feeling a bit discomfort but besides that, I'm okay." You say, your hand going to his hair to massage it. You can only imagine your daughter having the same brown curly hair as Daniel.

After that, you guys have a nice dinner and get ready to go to bed. In the middle of the night, you start feeling some major pain and get up from the bed, trying to not wake up Daniel. You make your way to the kitchen and grab a cup of water.

You breath in heavily, after another wave of pain goes trough your body. Suddenly, you feel a warm rush spreading between your legas. You freeze, realizing that your water just broke. Panic mixes with excitement as you realize that the moment you've been waiting for is finally here.

"Danny?" You shout, so Danny could hear you from the kitchen. When you don't hear any movement or response, you shout again, a little bit louder. You hear a "What? Where are you?"

As you answer him, you hear running from the bedroom. Two seconds later, he's right in front of you, hair messy from the bed and his eyes adjusting to the light.

"What? Are you okay?" He asks, with panic in his voice.

"I think it's time." You say. Danny looks at you, up and down and then sees the water on the floor.

"Okay, okay, don't panic. We got this." He says and walks to you, helping you to the bedroom so you can change into a new pair for panties and pants. He grabs the hospital bags and guides you to the car.

As each contraction grips you, you sink into the passenger seat, clutching the handle tightly. Danny's hand rests on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze with every surge of pain. The world outside blurs as he speeds towards the hospital, each bump in the road jolting you further into the reality of labor. Despite the discomfort, there's a sense of unity in the confined space of the car, a shared anticipation of the life-changing moment awaiting you both at the end of this ride.

Stepping trough the hospital doors, a surge of nervous energy courses trough you, mingling with the intensity of each contraction. The familiar scent of antiseptic mixes with the sounds of bustling activity, signaling that our journey to meet our baby girl is entering the final stage. Leaning on Danny for support, you make your way to the labor and delivery unit, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been waiting for.

After the nurses hook you to the machines and the doctor checks on you, the time seems to stop. Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity, because of the amount of pain you're in.

Danny whispers sweet things in your ear as he holds your hand. You squeeze it tightly as the contractions are getting closer and closer.

"I might break your hand." You joke, as you feel another contraction hitting.

He smiles and says "I love your capacity of making jokes trough something like this."

"It helps with the pain." You say and laugh.

When it's finally time to push, you surrender to the overwhelming power of your body, pushing with all of your strength as you feel your baby inching closer to the world. The room fades away, consumed by the raw intensity of the moment, as you focus all of your energy on bringing your baby into the world. Every fiber of your being strains with effort, yet there's a sense of calm within you. A calm that Danny always made you feel, even trough the hardest times. He's your rock, the calm to your storm, as cheesy it may sound.

Then, in an instant that stretches into eternity, you feel the release as your baby girl emerges, a rush of emotion flooding trough you as you hold your newborn daughter against your chest.

You start to let out tears of joy, as you look in the eyes of your baby. Danny cries into your neck and then kisses your head. When he finally holds her in his arms, he can't stop crying.

"She's beautiful." He says, looking at you. You smile at him.

And now, your family is complete.

-

instagram

danielriciardo We are thrilled to announce the newest addition to our team: Beatrice Grace Ricciardo 🐣🩷 After 8 long hours of labor, our hearts raced with excitement as we welcomed our little champion into the world. yourusername you are such a brave and strong woman, thank you for making me the happiest man alive. I love you 🤍 #borntorace

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landonorris can’t wait to meet my favorite niece 🥹 already bought her so much papaya merch

-> yourusername she’s a Ferrari fan ❤️

-> scuderiaferrari our warmest welcome to our newest and youngest fan!

-> danielriciardo she’s my fan 🥺

maxverstappen1 congratulations 😘

visacashapprb a warm welcome to our youngest team member and congratulations 💗

georgerussell63 the cutest little princess, can’t wait to meet her 😊

[lokideservesahug]

A Taste Of Victory

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Jenson Button x reader (implied), Mark Webber x reader (implied).

Warnings: Jenson is a bit of a dick to reporters, sexism,

Notes: This isn't even the big peice of writing that started all of this but that is coming soon... And the photos may not be aesthetic but they sure as anything are time accurate (even using photos from the specific days). I tried to make sure of it (as well as the dates) to give you good visuals so I hope at least someone appreciates it. Also I tried a new header format. Please tell me your thoughts

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N, the newest 2009 rookie who's also...a woman? The media are desperate to pick her apart and see how well she'll do so let's have a look:

Series Masterlist

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Y/L/N residence, 7th September 2008

You sit back and sip happily on your coke bottle. Any minute now. Any minute and your phone will be blowing up. Or at least that's what Frank had told you (you still can't get over the fact that THE Frank Williams insists that you call him that, or that you'll be working for him next year). You focus back on the image on your screen,

Lewis Hamilton in his McLaren. Of course a favourite to win this season especially after his incredible performances even from his rookie season. And despite trying to clear your mind of all bias for next year, you can't help but wish that he might win. He seems like a nice guy and it's a better him than some of the others. As Hamilton reaches the ever famous, ever gorgeous Eau Rouge, the image changes, the camera focuses on the white, green and red Honda of Jenson Button. He swerves slightly, performing a certainly showy move especially for just FP2.

Despite the numbers not being as much as Hamilton supporters, some F1 fans are putting their money on Button winning the championship instead. You scoff at the thought alone. Goodness knows Formula 1 doesn't need another cocky playboy as the world champion and goodness knows Jenson Button appears to be exactly that. Gosh why couldn't a more sensible seeming driver win say Mark webber or even Fernando Alonso again. You internally scold yourself, these men will be your co workers in only a matter of months. Just the thought makes you feel a matter of emotions; which you are quickly pulled out of as the commentators voice grows louder. You watch as Fernando Alonso puts in a particularly fast lap and the more you think, you can't help but feel almost a bit...nervous.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Albert Park paddock, 27th March 2009

You hold your head up high as you enter the paddock. Bright flashes of cameras shine in your peripheral but you try your hardest to just keep your head down and focus on getting to the Williams hospitality. You glance up, taking in the sights surrounding you. The bright Australian sun paints the paddock? that you've been so long awaiting, in such a light, that you finally feel a sense if fulfilment- and you're not even in the car yet.

Too entranced by the sights around you, you fail to notice the person just in front of you. You're met with the sight of a crisp yet untucked shirt. You panick, instantly going to apologise when you meet the eyes of the person you bumped into. "Woah, careful there." Jenson Button. Oh gosh. "Someone needs to slow down." He laughs and you assume his enjoyment is coming from your misfortune. Now you'd never thought you were the type to become speechless but as you're finally met with the first driver on your official Formula 1 debut, you can't help but panick even more, squeak out an apology and speed walk towards Williams.

Gosh, you wanted today to be perfect and here you are crashing into people already. What a clumsy fool you must look like. You groan as you realise what you've done.

Now, like any unfamiliar place, you find that it was pretty easy to get yourself lost, even in place with such an easy concept (curse Melbourne event planners for trying to make too much go on at once and make it confusing). Most people also don't expect to get recognised in an unfamiliar place even if it's where you work (and your hiring was widely broadcast).

"Hey, are you alright?" You turn to look at the Autralian man whose voice, up until now, you'd only heard through a screen. You meet the eyes of Mark Webber and smile shyly. "Hi, sorry to be a bother but do you know how to get to the Williams hospitality." He just gives you a small grin, clearly not seeing your lack of knowledge as incompetence or anything like that "Of course, follow me and welcome to the paddock by the way." And as Mark leads you away, you can't help hut feel glad you'll be seeing more of him (and not just for how polite and kind he is).

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Post race interviews, 29th March 2009

After you step down from the podium, and your team has dispersed (after all congratulating you, some even with tears in their eyes). You walk away to a quieter part of the paddock to gather your thoughts. You go behind the tows of hospitalities only to find Mark Webber hunched over. You aobseve him, he's sporting a serious, disappointed and almost worried looking expression as he looks out into the distance. You walk up to him and place a soft hand on his shoulder in an attempt to gently coax him out of his thoughts and to try and offer some comfort

Without a word, he turns to look at you and his shoulders raise slightly. You give him a small smile and sit down next to him. You both sit next to each other in silence, sharing a comforting moment, silently offering support and understanding to one and other.

The air shifts (and you try to not get to excited at the prospect that your presence alone may have somewhat comforted him). The air shifts, this time it isn't tainted by negative emotions but rather fatigue and acoplmisent on your part. The both of you probably look like a true sight, disheveled, tired and sweaty, however there's a warmth between you both as you share a brief moment of tranquility amongst the chaos.

Someone calls your name and the moment is broken. You nod to Mark who gives you a small smile back and a short "Well done for today." As you smile at him and walk off to go to interviews.

You pass some fans, signing their Williams caps and exchanging excited "Well done!" And "Thank you." Pleasantries. You revel in the post win glow. It's one thing to win in your rookie season, but to win your first race? Now that's just unheard of. You hurriedly sit down in the assigned seat for you and wait for the other few straglers to arrive. You look down, placing your hands on your lap in an attempt to thwart the nerves threatening to bubble.

Brawn driver, Rubens Barrichello is the second to arrive followed not long after by Jenson Button. Rubens gives you an easy smile and yet another congratulations. You feel incredibly fortunate to have you welcomed so quickly and easily by him over the past few days of testing. You return his smile with one of your own and a small wave.

When Jenson finally sits down, an FiA representative gives the 3 of you a short introduction and then begins. Quite a few people had warned you before you entered this room that many people would want to speak to you, but you didn't expect such an onslaught.

A short, bald man stands up and adresses you. "So Miss Y/L/N, you just managed to win your debut race, which is an incredible feat but how much of it do you think is down to the car." You try not to take offence to the question, it was a pretty basic question afterall (even if it was worded a bit harshly.) You let out a small laugh. "I think it's a joint effort really. The car was looking really good this weekend but I also have a history of running fairly well at this track." The reporter nods his head and continues. "So do you think this victory will encourage other women to become involved in F1?" You nod excitedly at him. "Oh I hope so. I hope it's encouragement to all women out there that weren't sure if they could." The reported thanks you and sits down.

A few more reporters ask questions. 90% of which are adressesdfor you and a few others adresses to the men beside you (mainly to Rubens and Jenson about Braen and its last minute establishment).

This time, a slightly more lean, dark haired reporter speaks up, once again directing his questions towards you. "Y/N, how did your fellow drivers perceive your and your entrance into F1?" You nearly furrow your brows at the biazzre question (Well it's possibly bizzare that it's adressed to you). "I uh don't know. Why don't you ask them." You gesture to the drivers either side of you as the reporter repeats his question to the other pilots. "Gentlemen, your thoughts on the newest addition to the paddock?" Rubens gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder mid sentence "She's obviously fast and I think she's managed to impress us all." The reporter nods to Jenson; and despite your belief that he's he's too cocky for his own good, you can't help but feel a bit excited and a bit anxious to hear his repsonse. "Her lap times were phenomenal during the race." You smile at his words, maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. However, he continues "I think my only criticism I have of her is that she seems to smile less than Kimi." The reporter smirks as you lower your eyeline slighty. "Yeah and she's much easier on the eyes than Kimi." The room erupts into low laughs as you feel shame and embarrassment pool in your gut.

The reporters continue to ask a few questions that you don't pay too much attention to as you nearly get complety lost in your thoughts. One asks Jenson if he thinks you have the potential for the championship. He laughs as he awnsers "There's no denying that she's fast. But she's in a Williams, she's not going to win the championship." You bite your tongue at Jenson's words and what you think is a jab at you (not realising the true intention if insulting his old team).

Yet another reporter asks you a familiar question along the lines if how exactly you think you managed to win. Fed up being in a room with a bunch of old men, trying to pick you apart and insult you with the same few questions just worded differently, your resolve finally snaps.

"Well not that anyone is caring to ask, but I've done this track a million times over. I've practised again and again and again to get my performance perfect yet no one is congratulating me on how well I went around that track. Brawn were amazing today and I'm sure they will be in the future as well but please dont let that take away from what I've done today." You shuffle back in your chair slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the stares but stay strong, unbreaking (and not noticing the stare of admiration coming from the British driver to your left and never knowing the love filled look of another Australian pilot, watching on a screen not far away).

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Top Gear Studio, May 2009

You listen anxiously as Jeremy Clarkson introduces you. Yes, Jeremy Clarkson. As he shouts your name, the camera pans to you and you walk forward, shaking Jeremy's hand and sitting down in the green, faux leather sofa.

"Now obviously I want to ask the obvious..." He speaks over the crowd's quietening bustle and you expect the next question to be one you've hears bwfore. About your gender, you- "What on Earth have you done to that Williams to make it so good?" You laugh, the familiar humour of the Top Gear host you've only ever seen on a screen putting you at ease.

"Well I don't know but maybe its because I'm far more polite to the car than other drivers." Jeremy smiles at your words and invites you into light conversation about you finally being viewed as a serious title contender. The two of you continue until you hit more general off-track talk "So, how much do you train and have you managed to find enough time to see your friends and family. Because some people have such an odd view on things like that." You let out a dramatic sigh. "Gosh they're making me train so much. More than just once a day and there are so many regimes that I can't keep track of anymore. But family wise, well I spend far less time with them than I do do training, I can tell you that much." The audience laughs which encourages you to continue. "I see my friends and family in-between weekends when I can and sometimes they'll even come to races. But gosh. I feel awful saying this." Jeremy leans forward slightly "No, go on..." Your smile becomes a bit embarrassed as your cheeks warm. "Well even on free weekends, with how crowded the paddock can be, I'll come home and just want to be alone." Jetemy shakes his head. "Well that makes sense. But you're in a very crowded space all weekend, does that mean that you've you've asked out by a lot of guys throughout the season so far?" Your eyes widen widen the insinuation. At your lack of instant response, Jeremy clarifies, "Come on! Gorgeous girl such as yourself in such a male dominated sport, I bet loads of men and probably even some drivers too have asked you out." You quickly deny the claims and the two of you move on to your lap times in their old car but you don't miss the way your mind flashed with the image of a certain dark haired Red Bull driver as Jeremy asked his previous question.

>To be aired 28 June<

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You huff out a low sigh. If you overthink today anymore, you think you might be sick. Your phone pings. You know you shouldn't have it on you but it has helped to keep you entertained as you wait. You look down and see a text from Mark. His text, wishing you good luck makes you smile and you shoot him a small thanks and silence your phone as you hear footsteps behind you.

"Are you ready?" You turn you head and nod to your future teammate as Michael Schumacher steps forward. "Question is, are you old man?" Your words make him smile and your nerves ease slightly. "I don't think I can ever be ready for something like this. But the more important thing is you." He places a caring hand on your shoulder.

If you told your child self, or heck even yourself a year ago that you're friends and future teammates with 7-time world Champion Michael Schumacher, you think you'd have laughed at yourself until tears streamed down your face. But in recent months and more specifically recent weeks, the two of you have been getting much closer. Michael offering you advice, you offering great support on current drivers habits firsthand as a warning for next season. And you even met Michael's family a month or so ago; them nearly adopting you into their clan.

A woman with headset approaches you both and taps you on the shoulder, "A minute to go." She gives you a small thumbs up and walks away, mumbling into her headset. You give her an uncertain nod as Michael pats your shoulder again. "Go out and show them what you've got kid and I'll see you out there." You give him a nervous smile and as you hear a distant shout of your name, you pull yourself together and pull your face into an excited expression, ready for the reaction to your announcement and overjoyed to have a front row seat to people's reactions to your teammate.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

You sit alone in a booth of a bustling club. Loud music nearly deafening but you'd take it any day over the continuous commentary you heard at track. You don't know how many time you can hear "It looks like the title fight is over. Y/L/N's engine is overheating and she's slowing down. It looks like Jenson Button may be champion." Without feeling sick especially when it's directly followed by your voice on the team radio, voice cracking during an apology as your mechanics tell me to back off to cool the engine.

You think of the image of Jenson's Brawn overtaking you and pulling futher into the distance; the sight of not one but two Red Bulls overtaking to fight a battle that should be yours. A voice cuts through your thoughts. You look up, meeting the eyes of the person speaking. "Are you alright?" You're surprised that Jenson came to speak to you, especially after his victory. Gosh in your vulnerable state, you even think that he might not be too bad. How silly of you. You give him a gentle nod (clearly not enough to convince him). He gestures towards the seat next to you "Is it alright if I sit here?" You nod, not Trusting your voice in this moment. "Well-" "You w-" You finally crack a smile as you speak at the same moment. He gestures to you "Sorry, you go." You smile at him. "Well done Jenson you gave a great drive this season." You expect him to smirk, to revel in your compliments but instead he just gives you a soft smile and a shake of his head. "Don't be silly. That championship would be yours if Williams ever learnt how to build cars properly. But thank you." You look down at his words, all of your emotions finally coming to the forefront. "Hey, you look like you need to be cheered up. You don't need to feel like this going into next season..." He passes and his brows furrow. You look up at Jenson who is now standing and for the first time all year, allow yourself to admire him. The way that his still slightly hair drops as some strands stick to his forehead. "You-" He furrows his brows again and then laughs freely. "Oh yeah, you're taking my job. Well Miss Y/L/N, he grabs your hand and pulls you up from your seat, Elliciting a small noise from you. "Then we need to dance to celebrate and to cheer you up." You just shake your head and follow him, finally smiling as you follow his foolish adrenaline (and probably slightly alcohol-fueled) giggly nature; placing down your phone and missing the texts.

Mark Webber: Hey Well done on today and I'm sorry what happened. Hoping to speak to you at some point later...

M.S: Hey Hase, well done on today, you drove so well I hope you know that. Corinna and I wanted to invite you to our...

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

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