#im finally back home and finally processing just.. everything

[transslyblue]

One of the most cruel things about having pets, is often you'll outlive them

[majestyeverlasting]

Hello there! :) If I may, I’d like to request a Joel miller x reader ⇩

something where the reader is experiencing a migraine (headache + nausea and all that) and Joel tries calling her all day while he’s out and when he gets home he finds her asleep in pitch black room and realises what’s wrong, but knows exactly how to comfort his girl? 🥰

*im sorryyy if that’s long or weirdly specific it’s just something I’ve been struggling with lately and I need some comfort about it don’t mind me😻)*

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary Joel comes home to find that you’re suffering from a migraine in bed. Luckily, he’s helped you through this once or twice. [no outbreak, hurt/comfort, fluff, 1.8k]. 

A/N Thanks for this request! I promise it's not weird at all. In my head, this is Joel and reader from here with you. 

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Joel (8:57 AM) Sorry I missed you this morning, didn’t wanna wake you. Have a good day. -J

Joel (11:02 AM) Checking in. You up and at em yet? 

Joel (2:34 PM) Everything okay? Call you in a bit. -J

Still nothing from you. Joel locks his phone and rests his forearms on his legs. 

Today is the warmest day all week. Getting to ditch the extra layer is nice. Tommy shields his eyes from the sun as he exits a prim house with a spotless driveway and plush lawn. Beside it is another perfect lot, and another, and another, arranged around the whole cul-de-sac. He and Joel had been contracted to do a kitchen upgrade for the new homeowners and were in the process of working through the finishing touches.

From his seated position on the curb, Joel looks over his shoulder as footsteps approach. Tommy draws his leg back like he plans to kick him, and snickers when he leans out the way.

“Watch yourself,” Joel warns.

“Or what?” A smirk pulls at Tommy’s lips. “I’ll lay your old ass out on this asphalt.”

Joel shakes his head as Tommy sits down beside him with a grunt. A comfortable silence settles between them, and Joel fights the urge to check his phone even though it hasn’t buzzed. Tommy notices the slight tension in his shoulders but chalks it up to wanting to be done for the day. After the owners did their final walkthrough tomorrow, a three-day weekend awaited.

A cool breeze rolls through as Tommy stretches his legs out in front of himself, his jeans peppered with dust and dried specks of white paint. When he takes a swig from the bottle he walked outside with, Joel’s squints at the label, his interest piqued.

“Kombucha?” he says with furrowed brows.

Tommy nods as he swallows. “Sarah put me on,” he says after wiping his mouth. “Helps with your gut. Something like that.”

“A few crunches should do the trick,” Joel mutters.

Tommy snorts and elbows him. “Right back at you, smartass.” Joel huffs a breath at that. “Hey, what do you think about going fishing this weekend—Saturday maybe?”

When his brother doesn’t respond, he knocks his knee against his. “Anybody home?”

Joel straightens up in hopes of making his anxiety less evident. Except, he wears it like a second skin. To deny it would be to deny himself.

“What time you think we’ll be done today?” The break they carved out just started, but it’s his roundabout way of suggesting they get back to work. There wasn’t too much left to do if they locked in—some additional caulking, sealing, and polishing.

Tommy shakes his head as he calculates. “Three-thirty, four?” Then he narrows his eyes at Joel. “You’ve been sitting funny since I walked out here…”

Joel’s chest puffs with a sigh as he unlocks his phone. The text thread between the two of you is already pulled up, and all three of his messages to you are unanswered. Tommy leans closer to read them and bites his lower lip as the gears start turning in his head.

He decides to draw a little levity in, “You piss her off?” There’s a teasing undertone to his question.

“Don't think so,” Joel says as he shifts. “Gonna give her a call.”

Tommy nods and claps him on the back. “We can get back to work after.”

He heads back inside to give his brother some privacy.

When you don’t answer the phone, Joel leaves a message anyway.

“Hey, sweetheart. Haven’t been able to get through to you, but I’ll be home soon, okay? Four-thirty at the latest…” he pauses to bite his lower lip. “Call me if you get this before I’m there. Love you.”

•••

It’s quiet when he arrives home. Virtually undisturbed. The pillows on the couch are positioned in the exact way they’d been left after last night’s impromptu movie night. The TV remote is in the same place on the coffee table as well. There’s nothing that suggests you’ve been stirring around at all. He walks deeper into the house to find that the kitchen and sunroom are empty too. The late afternoon sun pools in through the window.

When he makes it back around to the staircase, he jogs to the top. The wood creaks beneath his steps.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out. “I’m home. You up here?”

His voice carries to where you’re tucked in bed, but you can’t bring yourself to answer back. Not loud enough for him to hear you, at least. The ache that once pulsed throughout your head has steadied to the point where you don’t want to risk overexerting yourself and tumbling back to square one. Joel would find you anyway. He always did. And he never viewed you or your pain as a burden. He knew how to cradle both, how to ease them without second thought.

Light pours into the bedroom as the door opens slowly. You can make out the outline of his tall, broad frame, and hear the soft sound of his socks against the hardwood as he pads to you in the dark. Thanks to the blackout curtains, there’s hardly any light entering in. Only the smallest slivers.

After his eyes adjust, he can begin to make out the shapes around the room. The red glow of the alarm clock allows him to see your face, your slow-blinking eyes.

Without uttering a word, he gently presses the back of his hand to your forehead, then moves it down to rest against your warm cheek. You press into his touch just slightly, and it tugs something awful at his chest. Makes him wish he could bear your pain.

“Migraine,” you murmur.

An apologetic hum vibrates through his chest. “You been like this all day?” he asks softly.

“Got bad at noon.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You weakly reach out for his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. It’s much larger than yours, rugged and calloused, but you’d hold on forever if you could. If he’d let you. With his free hand, he picks up the tumbler bottle on the nightstand to find that it’s light.

“I’m gonna go get you some more water. It’s probably time for some more Advil too.”

The weight of his attentiveness makes you nod like you’re surrendering. And maybe you are giving something up—the burden of the day. Of having to do everything on your own. His fingers tighten around yours in a final squeeze before he lets go.

You shouldn’t miss him in the short time that he’s gone, but you do. It’s the same tug that lingered in your chest all day, but is kinder now that he’s home. Not miles away out of reach. When he comes back, it’s with more than he initially set out for, all of it somehow balanced in his hold. He quietly sets it all on the nightstand.

“You can turn the little lamp on,” you murmur. There was a battery-powered ambient lamp alongside the larger one.

“I’m aces, honey,” he assures. “You wanna sit up for a second, I got your medicine right here.”

You prop yourself up on your forearm and gratefully take it from him. He holds your tumbler to your lips so you can reach the straw to wash it down.

“There ya go,” he praises as you settle back down. “Got a cold pack and some grapes too. Get a little something on your stomach before I get dinner worked out later…” He talks, almost absentmindedly, as he continues to get you situated. But he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s a routine he’s coaxed you through more times than he’d like.

A long hum rises in your throat as he positions the cold pack on the back of your neck. A stark but pleasant chill ripples through your overheated body like slow melting ice. All you can muster is another grateful hum as he sets the small bowl of grapes on the mattress beside you. There’s a crisp, sweet pop as you usher one into your mouth.

“Gonna go grab a quick shower.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” he adds lightly.

A small smile pulls at your lips.

•••

An hour. That’s how much later you wake up in his arms with his lips at your shoulder, his strong arm draped around your waist to keep you close. There’d hardly been any words exchanged between you in the moments before then, only confirmations of each other’s comfort and whispered I love you’s. You’d dozed off a couple of times since noon, but nothing comparable to the steady rest that came along with his proximity.

He doesn't realize you’re awake until you shift and reach toward the nightstand. The light of the ambient lamp soon illuminates the room, joined by the glow of your phone a moment later. Joel takes it as a sign you’re feeling better than he found you, and that’s more than enough. The gentle, repetitive tap of your thumb against the screen lets him know you’re going through old notifications.

His hand finds your hip beneath the sheets, where he draws slow, small circles with his thumb. It isn’t long before you lock the device and set it back down.

The sheets rustle as you turn around to face him. Sleep’s haze lingers between you as you trail your fingertips along his jaw in a featherlight brush. The scratch of his beard feels nice, and you continue the motion until you’re unable to stop the fond chuckle that shakes your chest. It’s no more than a quick breath, but Joel smiles shyly anyway.

“What?” he asks, voice a little gruff.

“J,” you murmur with a teasing lilt. “You don’t need to sign your texts. I know already it’s you.” You poke an affectionate finger into his stomach.

His smile grows as he offers a helpless shrug, warmth in his dark eyes. It’s impossible to fight the urge to scoot closer and press the briefest, softest kiss to his lips. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat.

“Tommy had me thinking I might’ve done something to upset you,” he says as he brushes a knuckle across your cheek.

“I’d never ignore you like that.”

Joel knows that, but says, “Except for that one time.”

You frown in confusion, but your mouth falls open in amusement when you realize what he means. “That was a million years ago, and it lasted five minutes—not even that.”

Joel chuckles, and when it triggers you to join him in laughing, you realize that’s all he sought to gain by bringing it up.

“Clearly it left a mark.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the heel of your palm. A smile lingers on his lips as you laugh again.

He then studies your eyes, your nose, your lips. He loves you so much he sometimes wonders how he’s been able to manage it without bursting at the seams.

“You feelin’ a bit better?” he asks after a few quiet beats.

“Much,” you promise.

He kisses your palm again. This time he lets his lips linger.

-

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

more of this couple -> here with you

JOEL MASTERLIST 

GENERAL MASTERLIST   

[norrisainz33]

the call || platonic grid & gr63

☆ summary: y/n y/l/n gets a call up to race for alpine with 6 races left in the 2024 season and she’s got something to prove.

☆ pairing: platonic!grid x crush!george russell x rookie!female!reader

☆ fc & warnings: no fc. some hate comments and poor grammar on my end

☆ a/n: i was inspired by franco and liam getting called up to race for the remainder of the season and here we are. no hate to este bestie, just pretending dw. this is not supposed to be accurate to exactly how things have been playing out. smau mixed with writing!!

part 2 | part 3

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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f1: 🚨 breaking: y/n y/l/n will be racing under the number 95 for alpine for the remainder of the 2024 season alongside pierre gasly. y/n’s first race will be the united states grand prix. this is the first time since 1992 that a woman has raced in a grand prix format - this will be a historic weekend.

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user1: this is the best thing to ever happen to me you don’t understand

pierregasly: ready to attack the rest of the season with you ynuser!!

ynuser: here’s to a strong finish 💪🏻

alpinef1team: we can’t wait to have our girl on track!

user12: they really think a woman is going to be any better than what they had??? please….

user1: oh you are miserable. get out of here

georgerussell63: epic! ynuser i am so proud of you

ynuser: 🤍 see you in austin

user2: i can’t believe im witnessing a woman f1 driver in my life time. i am crying real tears of joy

landonorris: from our karting days to f1. you are amazing ynuser! looking forward to being on track with you

ynuser: so glad to be racing with you again lando 🤍

user3: this is monumental

user6: we got a woman in f1 before gta6

✿

you sat in silence staring down at the paperwork in front of you. everyone had long since left returning to their duties, allowing you to process what you had just been told. “it’s really happening,” you whispered feeling tears welling in your eyes. you were about to become an f1 driver - a real life f1 driver!! and no, not just a reserve driver who did nothing but the sim all day every day. your shoulders sagged as you blew out a sigh. “it was all worth it,” you thought back to the years of blood, sweat and tears put into racing — from leaving the comfort of your childhood home to go karting in europe, to watching your parents give up everything to make sure your dreams came true, to finding yourself in f1 academy where you won the championship, to fighting for a chance to race in f2 and becoming the only woman to finish in the points - you had given everything to this sport and you were finally getting your chance.

you picked up your phone and dialed your best friend. “y/n? hi! did you have your meeting yet?!”

“i’m going to drive the rest of the season,” you said softly.

“WHAT?!” your best friend practically screamed into the other end of the phone.

“i’m taking the second alpine seat!!! im going to be starting in austin.” the tears of happiness started falling now.

“oh my god y/n/n!!!! YOU DID IT BABY YOU DID IT!” you could hear your best friend jumping up and down in excitement.

“i did it.”

✿

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user1: i can't explain to you how excited i am to see you on track this weekend y/n

pierregasly: jealous you got the media duties with the horses and not the american football team like i did.....

ynuser: HAHA idk why they didnt send us together

pierregasly: they knew our joint slay would be too much to handle

user7: as a young woman in a male dominated field... thank you for representing us. i love you and i am so proud of you

yourbff: my flight lands in exactly 1 hour and i am shaking with excitement

ynuser: if you think you're shaking with excitement you should see me... just got word im in the pre race press conference with george and max v......... pray for me girl

yourbff: okok we knew this was going to happen. of course they'll want to talk to you!! you're the new face on the grid

ynuser: is it bad to admit im afraid?

yourbff: admitting you’re afraid just means you’re human y/n. you're allowed to feel

ynuser: idk what i'd do with out you

yourbff: you'll never have to know! now go get ready!! i'll be there just in enough time to make the conference start.

yourbff: p.s your media day fit absolutely ate that dress and the cowgirl hat was lethal. f1 should be thanking you for being such a baddie

georgerussell63: howdy ms y/n

ynuser: howdy georgie --- see you at the press conference 🙂‍↔️

georgerussell63: looking forward to it

landonorris: NEIGHHHH

ynuser: lando?

landonorris: sorry was pretending to be one of those horses so you'd pay attention to me

ynuser: hahahahaha you muppet. ive missed you

landonorris: i missed you too y/n/n! believe it or not i miss fighting it out on track with you too. ready to smoke ya just like i did in our karting days

ynuser: i mean you are in a mclaren and have a lot of practice so id certainly hope you were faster than me

landonorris: well when you put it like that its not as fun.......

user9: bought an alpine hat and am bedazzling a shirt with your name on it as we speak

✿

the alpine pr team had wasted no time sitting you down as soon as you got to austin. they ran through what to expect from your media duties, how to respond to any and all questions that might be thrown your way and how to save face if needed but somehow as you sat down on the iconic white couch and looked out at the crowd of reporters forming in front of you, you felt all of that training start to fail you. the nerves were taking over as george and max took their spots to your right. you were thankful when the british driver gave you a reassuring smile and a slight nod letting you know it was ok.

"good afternoon and welcome to the 2024 united states grand prix!" the interviewer beamed at the camera before turning his attention to the three of you. "today we are joined by max verstappen, george russell and formula 1's newest driver, y/n y/l/n."

the interviewer started by asking max about the championship and how he was feeling about lando continuing to close the gap. you used that time to steady your breathing, knowing a question was headed your way at any moment. "y/n, first of all, i want to say congratulations!" the interviewer grinned and you smiled back. "you are coming into this season with only 6 races left and a rather tall order to get up to speed quickly for some points and fight for a seat on the grid in 2025. how are you feeling about it all?"

you sighed, relieved at an easy first question, "thank you! i'm trying to take it all in stride. it's definitely a tall order because these guys have had 19 races to get a feel for their cars, work with their teams, and solidify their standings… i'm going to have exactly one free practice to learn everything before heading into sprint qualifying and i think that puts me a little bit on the back foot. though, i am more confident than ever that i can pull out some points and finish this season strong for alpine."

the interviewer nodded along intently as you spoke, "do you think being the first female in formula 1 since 1992 also puts you a bit on the back foot?"

this. this was the type of question you were dreading. you knew what it was like to be questioned about your skills purely because you were a woman, it had been happening throughout your entire life but that didn't mean it still didn't get to you. you picked your mic back up but before you could say anything into it, george was already speaking, "i don't think thats a fair question to ask. her being a woman has nothing to do with her racing, let us not forget that she is here for a reason. y/n has an incredibly impressive resume and i'd be happy to recite it for you if you need the reminder."

*george fcking russell. the man that you are* you thought as a smirk formed on your face. "thank you george," you said managing to keep your voice steady as you continued, "i don't think being a woman puts me on the back foot at all. it's 2024 - i think we're past the point of asking questions like this. I may be the first woman in way too long to race in a grand prix but i certainly will not be the last." you put the microphone down, daring the interviewer to say something in return but instead he turned his attention back to max and kept it there for the remainder of the session which you weren't mad about at all.

✿

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ynuser: p9 baby!!!!!! i scored two points!!!! cota - thank you for the love and for an incredible first weekend in formula 1. i will never forget you 🤍

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user9: best weekend of my life!!!! first gp i’ve ever been to and i got to meet you at the fan zone!! i couldn’t have asked for more

alpinef1team: try not to say goat challenge failed

ynuser: 🤍🩷

user10: i sobbed watching you cross the line

pierregasly: points points points points

ynuser: you next bestie!!

pierregasly: we’re going to both score big this triple header i just know it

user13: i love how these two have become instant friends. i hope alpine doesn’t split my family up in abu dhabi

user44: history - we’re watching you make history

francisca.cgomes: i don’t think you understand how attached i am to you now y/n

ynuser: and i don’t think you understand how much i love you kika. legally you have to come to all the rest of the races please and thank you

francisca.cgomes: for you? done!

pierregasly: um? hello?

ynuser: im sorry p.. look away

yourbff: i have no words. i love you more than life itself

ynuser: i love you - thank you for being there

landonorris: statement MADE

ynuser: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

georgerussell63: i’m so proud of you im about to openly weep

ynuser: we can openly weep together

carlossainz55: congrats y/n!

ynuser: thank you carlos 🤍

francolapinto: viva y/n!

ynuser: viva franco!

lewishamilton: 🤍🤍

ynuser: 🩷🩷

user15: noticing so many of the drivers here supporting her is everything

user4: and the fact that so many of them are praising her efforts and talking so highly of her in interviews 🥹

user15: everyone loves her (except for the rbr duo, did you see her and checo having words after that race?)

user4: omg yeah grandpa was pissed but honestly he’s probably just worried she’s going to take his seat

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user9: pretty, talented, smart … you’re the whole package

landonorris: hell yeah it does. the car will be here in about an hour! meet us in the lobby?

ynuser: yes!! assuming we shouldn’t come down too early since we run the risk of people being down there?

landonorris: yeah, no more than 5 mins before

user10: hottest person on the grid no doubt

georgerussell63: blimey i’m excited

ynuser: me too! i need a drink after this weekend

georgerussell63: you better get used to it y/n! this is your life now

ynuser: and i’m glad it is 🤍

user14: i think i have a crush on you

oscarpiastri: hi

ynuser: hi oscar!! did lando send you the details for tonight?

oscarpiastri: yes he did!

pierregasly: me and kika are ready to GO

ynuser: me and y/bff are too! let’s get this party started

user11: keep this momentum going into mexico y/n!!

user4: we needed a chronically online it girl in this sport so bad im so glad you’re here

✿

george poured you another glass of champagne as you giggled, "i should really be sick of champagne by now but i don't know that i ever will be."

"well thats good y/n/n! you're going to be drinking a lot more of it soon enough," george said loud enough that you could hear him over the music. the club was packed with more people than you would've expected for sunday evening especially a sunday evening in texas but here you were in a packed club chugging champagne with old and new friends. oscar, lily, carlos, rebecca, lando, george, pierre, kika, franco, charles and alex all came out with you and y/bff and you were honestly a bit shocked by the turn out. though you should've known that lando and george were not going to let you celebrate by yourself.

you had grown up with the two of them on the karting track and you even managed to be in f2 in the same year george won the championship. they meant a lot to you -- you looked up to them since the start so to have their unwavering support now that you made it to f1 meant more than you could express. none of this was going to be easy but being surrounded by a strong support system would make it a lot less painful.

you smiled up at george as he downed the last bit of his cocktail, intently watching as the last little bit dripped from the side of his mouth. you took a big gulp reminding yourself of the room of people around you. that was another thing that was around since your karting days... your massive crush on george. while you both had seen other people between now and then, there was no doubt that it was still alive and well. but as far as that was concerned, it was a bit of a one sided crush. it's not that george had ever told you outright that he wasn't interested, you just never had the guts to tell him and he only ever made one move and has been ignoring that it happened since. the closest you two ever got to something more than friends was the night after he won the f2 championship. you two were inseparable during that season so when he asked you to come with him back to his hotel room after his massive party, you didn't think twice about it. you two flopped down onto the bed with your takeaway meal fresh in front of you and the tv turned on to some animated movie you couldn't remember the name of. george was sitting close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body from where he gently was resting against yours. "y/n/n," he whispered causing you to look up at him, "i love you." you smiled, having heard him say this many times.. he was your best friend after all. "I love you too!" you responded and before you could process what happened, his lips were on yours. and unfortunately for you, thats about where that ended. george realized what he was doing and absolutely panicked, begged you to forgive him and to not talk about it again so thats what you did. but on nights like this one, where he was looking fine as ever... it was hard not to long for him.

"helllooooooo earth to y/n!!!" lando almost shouted pulling you out of your thoughts.

"yes, yes! hi!" you rolled your eyes taking the drink out of his hand.

the rest of the night passed in a blur of celebrations, laughs and champagne. things were looking up and you couldn't be more excited for what the future held for you. you had done it. your dream had come true.

✿

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alpinef1team: 1 down. 2 to go. mexico city, here we come!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: omg if you made it this far... thank you for reading!!! likes and reblogs are massively appreciated. i'm thinking of making this a series with y/n racing in the last few races of the season. if you liked this, let me know so i can judge if this will get a part 2!! much love 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[harrysfolklore]

we need a fic about carlos’ win and piastri sisters’ reaction to it

THE LITTLE BITCH WON 🥺 ahhh im so happy for carlos, i had to write this ! i hope yo like thisss

READ LITTLE BITCH HERE

The Mexico City sunrise painted the sky as you and Carlos made your way to the track. He'd been unusually quiet during breakfast, that focused energy already building.

"Nervous?" you asked, squeezing his hand as your driver navigated through the early morning traffic.

"No," he said automatically, then caught your knowing look. "Maybe a little. Starting from pole here… the run to Turn 1 is so long."

"You've got this," you brought his hand to your lips.

"Max will be aggressive-"

"And you'll handle it," you cut him off. "Like the little bitch you are."

That broke his tension, making him laugh. "How do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me feel better by insulting me."

"It's a gift," you grinned. "Now stop overthinking and kiss me before we get to the track and you go all serious racing driver on me."

He obliged, one hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you close. The kiss was deep and slow, full of everything he wasn't saying.

When you pulled back, his brown eyes locked into yours, a soft edge on them that made you melt.

It was hard to think that those same eyes glared you across the paddock once and now you were about to complete five months of being his girlfriend.

When you arrived at Ferrari, Reyes and Carlos Sr. were already there. Reyes pulled you into a warm hug while Carlos got swept up in pre-race preparations.

"My girl," she kissed both your cheeks. "You look beautiful today."

"Thank you, Reyes," you said, squeezing her hands before your eyes unconsciously drifted to the McLaren area.

"You're going to check on your brother?" she asked knowingly.

"Am I that predictable?"

"No, mi amor. Just a good sister."

You couldn't help but smile at that. Over the months you've slowly learned to not feel like you needed to choose between Carlos and Oscar, it was a slow process but their support made it easier.

You found Carlos doing his final preparations. "I'm going to check on Osc for a bit.”

He nodded, already half in race mode. "Tell him I said he's got this. The McLaren's race pace looked good."

"I will," you kissed his cheek. "See you on the podium, little bitch."

His engineer snorted, trying to cover it with a cough.

The walk to McLaren was filled with nervous energy. Early fans were already filling the grandstands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation.

The McLaren garage was quieter than Ferrari, the mood still heavy from yesterday's qualifying. You found Oscar in his driver room, staring intently at track maps.

"Brought you coffee," you held out his favorite pre-race drink. "And Carlos says your race pace looked good."

"Thanks," he took the cup but didn't meet your eyes. "For both."

You sat beside him, studying his face. "Talk to me, Osc. What's really going on?"

He was quiet for so long you thought he might not answer.

"I just..." he set down the coffee, running both hands through his hair. "Sometimes I feel like I'm not good enough for this. Like everyone made a mistake choosing me."

Your heart broke. "Oscar..."

"And I know it's stupid. I know I've earned my place here, but days like yesterday... it just brings all those doubts back."

"Look at me," you waited until he met your eyes. "Do you remember when you were ten, and you came home crying because some kid said you'd never make it to F1?"

A small smile tugged at his lips. "And you made him eat dirt at school the next day."

"Exactly. And what did I tell you then?"

"That I was meant for this," his voice softened. "That you could see it in the way I drove, even in karts."

"And has that changed?"

"No, but-"

"No buts," you took his hands. "You're exactly where you're supposed to be, Oscar Piastri. Bad qualifyings don't change that. Bad races don't change that. You're my little brother, and I've never been wrong about you."

He squeezed your hands. "How do you always know what to say?"

"Big sister superpower," you kissed his forehead. "Now drink your coffee and show them what you can do from P17.”

“Thank you, sister,” he squeezed your shoulder, “Now go back to your man, he’s driving like a beast this weekend.”

When you returned to Ferrari, the pre-race energy was at its peak. Carlos was in his final preparations, but his eyes found yours immediately.

"Oscar okay?" he mouthed.

You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. Another side effect of your relationship was that Oscar and Carlos became closer than ever. Oscar looked up to him and Carlos grew so fond of him that he cared about him like an older brother.

It was something not even in your wildest dreams would make sense a year ago. But right now felt like the perfect dynamic.

The garage began clearing for the grid walk. Carlos pulled you aside quickly.

"Para suerte," he murmured, kissing you deeply.

"Little bitch," you whispered against his lips. "Go win this thing."

Reyes and Carlos Sr. were waiting in the garage, both greeting you with warm hugs as you settled in to watch the start.

"Nervous?" Reyes asked, taking your hand.

"Always," you admitted. "For both of them."

The formation lap began, your heart pounding as you watched Carlos lead the field around. The ambient temperature was rising, making tire management crucial.

"He's got this," Carlos Sr. said confidently. "Look how smooth his formation lap is."

The garage fell silent as five red lights appeared above the start line. Your hand found Reyes', both of you holding your breath. The Mexican heat was stifling, but you barely noticed, every nerve focused on the Ferrari at the front of the grid.

"Vamos, hijo," Carlos Sr. whispered, his usual composed demeanor cracking with nervous energy.

The lights went out, and twenty cars launched forward into the long run to Turn 1. Carlos got a perfect start, but Max's Red Bull was immediately in his slipstream, the blue car looming in Carlos's mirrors. Side by side they went into the first corner, neither giving an inch.

"Come on, come on," you whispered, unconsciously leaning forward.

Carlos held firm on the inside line, forcing Max to take the longer way around. Through Turn 2, the Ferrari emerged still leading, and the garage erupted. Engineers who usually maintained professional calm were jumping up and down.

"Tranquila, mi amor," Reyes squeezed your hand. "Look how controlled he is."

The pit stop window approached, tension ratcheting up. Ferrari brought Charles in first, the stop clean but nerve-wracking.

"Pushing too hard on those tires," Carlos Sr. observed as Carlos finally pitted.

When Carlos crossed the finish line first, the garage exploded. You hugged Reyes, both of you crying and laughing. Carlos Sr. wrapped you both in a bear hug, his usual composure forgotten as he shouted "¡Vamos!" repeatedly.

Through happy tears, you saw Carlos pump his fist as he drove past, and you couldn't be happier for him.

The podium ceremony felt eternal. When they finally played the Spanish anthem, you saw Carlos's eyes glistening as he sang along. He caught your gaze in the crowd and winked, making your heart flutter just like it did that first time you saw him win in Australia.

Back then, you tried to play it cool, like you didn't care that he won. But right now the story was completely different.

After the ceremonies and media obligations, Carlos finally made it back to the team. He lifted you off your feet the moment he saw you, spinning you around as you laughed.

"Mi amor," he breathed against your lips before kissing you deeply.

"My champion," you whispered back. "My little bitch."

He laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "Only yours."

Carlos received hugs, cheers and champagne showers from friends, team members and family. After taking some photos and watching him complete more interviews, it was time to head out and celebrate.

"I'm going to check on Oscar one more time," you told Carlos, as you walked through the paddock.

"Tell him to come to dinner," Carlos said. "He drove well today, P8 from P17."

You found Oscar in the McLaren garage, already changed and packing up.

"Hey champ," you smiled. "Coming to dinner with us?"

He gave you a small smile back. "Think I'll pass tonight. Bit tired, and…" he paused. "Just want some quiet, you know?"

You studied his face. "You sure? Carlos specifically asked for you to come."

"I know, and tell him thanks," Oscar squeezed your hand. "But you guys should celebrate properly. I'm good, really. Just going to order room service and study the race data."

You pulled him into a hug. "You drove amazingly today. P8 from P17 is no joke."

"Thanks, sis," he hugged you back tight. "Go celebrate with your winner. Just... maybe not too loudly in the hotel? The walls are thin."

"OSCAR!"

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 376,528 others

ynpiastri MY LITTLE CHAMPION BITCH 🥲🥲 i’m SO proud of you mi amor, we all are. one more win this season showing everyone the talented driver that you are. the best is yet to come ❤️

also beyond proud of my baby brother as always, your determination and ability to push through every setback never ceases to amaze me. chin up, i know you got this

oh and lando got p2 i guess

GRACIAS MEXICO CITY 😩

view all comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 SIMP PIASTRI

username3 this is still wild to me they used to hate each other’s guts

scuderiaferarri ❤️

username4 this is wild bc she hated him when he won in australia 😭

nicolepiastri Congrats Carlos! Come visit and bring embarrassing stories of my daughter please

↳ ynpiastri MUM😩

↳ username1 she’s an icon

reyesvdec Te amamos ❤️

↳ username2 the sainz love her so much i could cry

username5 HELP THE LINE ABOUT LANDO 😭

oscarpiastri Love you sis. Congrats to Carlos ❤️

↳ carlossainz55 Thank you brother

↳ username2 this would send 2023 me into a coma

↳ username3 THIS PLOT TWIST

carlossainz55 Te amo

At the restaurant, Lando was the only driver who joined your celebration with the Sainz family. He fit right in, making everyone laugh with stories about Carlos.

"You know," Lando said, taking a sip of wine, "I used to be Reyes and Carlos Sr.'s favorite adopted son."

"Used to be?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, then you came along with your whole enemies-to-lovers storyline and stole my spot," he pouted dramatically. "Now I'm like the forgotten middle child."

"Ay, Lando," Reyes laughed, reaching over to pat his cheek. "You're still our favorite British son."

"Small comfort when YN gets all the good Spanish mom cooking," Lando grumbled good-naturedly.

After dinner, it was time for the party celebrating Carlos' win. He claimed that he didn't want to drink much, but that went out the window when his friends lifted him up as 'Smooth Operator' played.

"SMOOTH OPERATOOOOR!" they sang terribly off-key. Carlos was laughing, one hand clutching his drink, the other reaching for you.

"Join me up here, mi amor!"

"Absolutely not," you called back, but you were laughing too.

Hours later, the celebrations were winding down. You stood outside waiting for your car, Carlos' arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. The Mexico City air was cooler now, but his warmth kept you comfortable.

"I still can't believe it," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck. "Second win this season."

You turned in his arms to face him, taking in his slightly flushed cheeks and bright eyes. The victory high was still there, mixed with the pleasant buzz from the celebrations.

"You know what's different this time?" you asked, playing with the collar of his shirt.

"Hmm?"

"I don't have to pretend I'm not happy for you," you smiled, remembering Australia. "Don't have to hide how proud I am."

His eyes softened as he pulled you closer. "You were terrible at hiding it even then."

"I was not!"

"Mi amor," he laughed, pressing his forehead to yours. "You called me 'little bitch' with way too much affection."

"That was pure hatred," you protested weakly.

"Sure it was," he grinned. "Just like when you stared at me during the podium ceremony."

"I was plotting your demise."

"With heart eyes?"

"Shut up," you buried your face in his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter.

"Never," he kissed the top of your head. "I love reminding you how bad you were at hating me."

"I'm starting to hate you again right now."

"No you're not," he tilted your chin up, eyes twinkling. "You love me."

Before you could retort, the car pulled up. As you settled into the backseat, Carlos pulled you close again.

"For the record," he whispered in your ear, "I was terrible at pretending too. Ask Charles - he said I talked about you constantly."

"To complain?"

"That's what I told myself," he smiled against your hair. "But I think everyone knew better."

You intertwined your fingers with his, watching the city lights blur past. "We were kind of idiots, weren't we?"

"The biggest," he agreed. "But we figured it out eventually."

"Yeah," you turned to kiss him softly. "We did."

[kenyummy]

✰ 07. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 07. a fools own parade.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: im not really sure if it counts as it's a very small passage but tw for a lil bit of an identity/existential crisis??? not very sure haha I mostly just write what comes to mind

also, first father appearance! yay! he finally shows up, and he's as mysterious as ever, hehe. next chapter will be either dink focused or ... someone else... 🤔🤔🤔

prev. ✰ masterlist ✰ next.

You dab at your nose with a tissue, cringing at the sight of crimson still pouring out from it. How hard was that guy's chest, anyway?

A thick bandage is stuck tightly on your nosebridge, taped to your skin and soaked in blood. Changing it every hour was a giant pain, but you'd rather have a bloody bandage than clothes.

Thinking back on it, you almost can't imagine the look in Tim's eyes again. Nothing strange. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but different enough to make the hair on your arms raise.

(You're the greatest anomaly in his life. Isn't it natural a detective wishes to solve such a damning mystery?)

How differently his entire composure grew once he saw you laying there, dirtied hands clutching your face. Was it normal for a guy like him to change his entire stance at such a moment? You'd be inclined to believe he couldn't care less about something like this, from all those diary entries spanning several years.

But seeing that look, when you'd stopped him from coming closer, putting distance between you two, as you thought there'd always been, how could you possibly think that? That look of worry, fingers twitching as he reached out, and expression of pure betrayal when you'd stepped backwards. Away. From him.

Wasn't that how it'd always been? You couldn't stop thinking. Maybe you were wrong? Maybe your spidey sense, for the first time in your life, was wrong?

They say that a fool's time spent thinking is wasted time.

You spent hours sitting at your desk pondering all of this. What it meant. Why your siblings seemed to all give you this strange, sinking feeling in your stomach. Raise goosebumps up your arms.

Soon, these thoughts spiralled back to your home. How you could help Reed. Speed up the process. Not wishing to mess with his delicate work nor rush him, but also getting restless with this family.

This family who's known you for their whole lives, yet seems to similarly know nothing about you. This you, their you, any you. Too little to care, too much to hate. The worst kind of balance that upset the universe and made your stomach twist with bile.

But at this point, you weren't too sure who was who, which was which.

If, tommorow, you'd lost everything and if you were caught in a blazing heat, would it be you who had died? Or somebody else? Would it be you in that coffin, underneath a stone who's name carved into it, did not belong to you?

The concept of being your own person, what did it mean? What could it mean when there were more of you, exactly the same, only shaped by their environment? An endless amount of copies, down to the genetic level, each in different worlds yet unmistakably the same?

When you stare into the mirror, nothing is the same except the red that flows down your knuckles when you slam your fist into it. Nothing remains the same except what you look like inside.

Though—in the end—even that belonged to them, didn't it?

You barely ever see your sister, nor her blonde friend. The ginger haired woman has more pressing matters to attend to than ever seeing you, it seemed—something you'd actually grown to appreciate, seeing how positively suffocating those other "siblings" had started to become.

Dick, who was thankfully off in Blüdhaven around now. Jason, who should be out doing his own thing, but seemed to always spare some time for you... as much as you insisted on him not doing that. Tim, who always stared with a little too much intensity and danger hidden behind a sharp smile.

And Damian—your only blood-related sibling, seeming to take great pride in such a fact as he brings it up far more often than not.

You'd begun to realise a distinct lack of a parental figure in your...—

This. This life.

Not yours. This life absolutely was not yours. Everything is seriously messing with your head. Belonging to another unfortunate soul, who happened to have your name, shared your face and voice, yet was everything you never were. Experienced things you never did, yet as you lived in a freedom they could never dream of.

You pitied them more than anything else. But that didn't mean you could just give everything you've ever known up. Your people, your city, your friends, your freedom. This blood that runs through your veins and makes your heart beat steady—it may belong to them, but you never will.

As it spills, you will be free. Losing that chain that binds you and perhaps you will be allowed to feel that wind hitting your face once more. Allowed to swing, fly, feel air and be everything you were destined to become.

Your suit forms over your body and you leap out of your window, leaving nothing but a gust of wind in your wake.

Because, despite everything, it is still you.

The Spectacular Spidey seems to swing and never sleep—the alliteration in the title of this news article you've read makes your head hurt. Said only as an unfortunate pun referring to how you swing from building to building, and only operate during night hours.

(Yet, still careful on avoiding your dearest family... as difficult as that may be—your senses are seriously saving your skin... wait, now you're using alliteration—)

You don't have anything against working during sunlight. In fact, it would be preferable for you. But escaping from school has now become increasingly more difficult after you'd "opened your heart" to MJ and Harry.

Both were completely convinced you were spiralling down a bad path after how you'd acted with Jason, or concerned for both your homelife and general wellbeing—sometimes you truly did damn yourself for picking such good friends.

Nevertheless, you couldn't possibly be worrying about something like that right now, when there's a much bigger problem right in front of you.

A man dressed in a rag-like coat lay beneath your heel, defeated and hands bound together with your webbing.

You'd originally expected to leave immediately, hoping to catch Reed before he was off looking for whatever new part he needed for his grandest project. But now, you can't even hope to move at this point—swamped by flashing cameras and microphones shoved into your face.

Suddenly, you're so incredibly grateful you wear a mask, because you aren't too excited at the prospect of having such unflattering photos of you taken.

"Spidey! What are you doing in Gotham?"

You stammer, "Uh—well, you know—"

"Spiderguy! What's your thoughts on the articles calling you a knockoff Batman?"

"How am I anything like him?" You gesture to your bright red suit. "Also, it's not Spiderguy—"

"Spidey! Spidey! How do you create that webbing fluid? Is it organic? And is it environmentally sustainable? Who's going to clean it?" The reporters move closer and closer.

You inch backwards, "Uh—well, you know, my webbing dissolves in a couple hours by itself, and of course it's sustainable—"

Before you can finish, a multitude of voices all ring through your ears at once. Piling atop eachother, all at the same time, forming into a mush of different tones and accents, indistinguishable from one another.

You can't even hear anything anymore, not until a voice, loud and clear, cuts through a multitude of others and strikes your ears with ease, "Hey, Spidey! Our viewers have a question for you—how have you gotten past Batman? I'm sure you know he doesn't allow metahumans in Gotham, right?"

You freeze. Shocked, but soon, that shock soon morphs into confusion at what exactly a metahuman is.

"I... uh—" You glance to the side. You know, doing this will spark way too much gossip for your own good. Doing this is practically asking for those headlines that, while technically true, are completely outlandish. You were a reporter yourself (for your alter ego, to be fair—but it still counts).

You know this can't end in any other way than complete disaster.

That's why you reach up, webbing to a building and wave goodbye to those pesky paparazzi, "No comment!" With all the wit a Spider must have, you decide that your flight or fight response instead chose: Web away with a sly remark.

"They should be around here, Batman."

Oracle's voice rings out through the earpiece. Barbara had taken the liberty of helping him in his little crusade after seeing that stunt on live television—that spider-hero running away after hearing that metas weren't allowed in Gotham... though, it provided more questions than answers.

Babs was growing restless. For one: that reaction possibly explained why they were so wary of any member of their family even coming close to them. Always running at the first sight of them, webbing away faster than they could hope to catch up. Escaping Batman and his Robin, Babs couldn't help but wonder about them.

They're good. Smart. They're not some new hero. Clearly whoever's behind that mask has experience.

But this raised far too many questions in it of itself. Why had you only popped up now? Why not years ago —if, judging purely by her own gaze, with the years of experience in crime fighting you must have? Why Gotham?

And perhaps, the most daunting question of them all, "Who exactly are you, Spider?"

Bruce's gruff voice reaches her ears, "What was that?"

Her eyes widen, not realising she'd spoken aloud. Shaking her head, she relents, "No... sorry, it's nothing. Right... according to witness sighting and where they were last spotted, you should be meeting them in the middle right now. Do you have any sightings?"

Bruce shakes his head, jumping over to the top of the next apartment block roof—cowl landing in a swoop behind him. "No. Not yet. See if there's any new sightings."

Bruce Wayne was beginning to grow tiresome of this new hero's antics. Running around through Gotham without a care in the world—all too bright and cheerful as if this was all that mattered. Running around as a meta—unchecked and absolutely dangerous.

Nothing good could come out of this. Not without knowing exactly who you were and what you wanted. He never was a dictator type—never had it in him—but with a crime-riddled city like Gotham, he had little choice.

One small mistake could ruin everything. Collapse all that he's worked so hard to create. A better city, a better future. A regular human—as he is—couldn't possibly ever handle a rouge meta... and in the end, this city may not want him, but he really is the type of hero it needs.

So, that's why, instead of patrolling through his sector—he asks Orphan, Batwoman, and Spoiler to take over for tonight, so he can do some much needed digging into this anomaly.

Tim told him that his webbing sample, one he managed to collect around a month ago, when he'd first come into contact with them, had dissolved within hours. Not enough time to perform any kind of intricate testing, not by a long shot.

Batman has taken the almost passive stance—uncharacteristic of him—but now, he realised with such a slippery Spider, he had to do what he does best, and corner them.

His whitened eyes dart up at the flash of red that flies past him. He snaps his head back and finds the Spider—the one he'd been looking for all this time—swinging from building to building, fast.

But not nearly fast enough. With one false swoop, Bruce is after you, grappling towards you, eyes narrowed and mind absolutely determined.

"Batman? Batman?" Oracle pipes up—he assumes she's been talking for the past couple minutes, but only realised she was speaking into his earpiece now. "Can you hear me? Do you have a visual?"

"I see them. Nearly have them."

The Spider darts their head over their shoulder almost frantically—moves stuttering when they see how close he's gotten toward them.

"Hey! Why are you so obsessed with me, huh?" Thrir voice calls out—unlike anything he'd ever heard. "I mean, okay—yeah, I get it. But if you want a fashion taste like mine, I can make you a suit of your own!"

He clenches his jaw to stop himself from saying anything back.

Their voice grows more framtic at his silence, "H... Hey! You're getting really close, there—let it go! I'm not a villain! I swear!"

More silence, and they seem to let out a loud groan of frustration, seemingly aimed at him.

They stop. Heels landing flat atop a building, and Batman, with his cowl wrapped around him like a cloak, follows on their heel, stalking closer towards them.

You raise your hands in defence, stepping backwards and shaking your masked head, "Waitwaitwait—! Don't get violent with me, I don't want to fight you!"

"Then what do you want?" His voice grows deeper, more gruff and cold. "No metahumans are allowed in Gotham without my permission. There's too much trouble that comes with it. Too many difficulties."

He pauses. "Too much crime. Too many deaths. Unnecessary, preventable ones. Who are you to be an exception?"

"I said wait—!" You shriek as he practically stalks into your personal space bubble. "I'm not a metahuman!"

He stops in his tracks. "... What?"

You let out a heavy sigh, now that he's stopped. Batman taps on his earpiece, "Oracle, can you hear this?"

"Reading, Batman."

You look around, to see nobody. "Oracle? Who's Oracle?" You never read anything about an Oracle.

"None of your business. Now speak. If you aren't a metahuman, what are you?" His whitened eyes narrow, and suddenly those pointy ears aren't so silly looking anymore.

You blink. Once, then twice. "Would you believe me if I said I was from an alien planet full of spider-people?"

Despite the reprocessing telling him your backstory would have on you being near non-existent—you still aren't too fond of the idea of the Batman, your father, knowing your secret backstory.

Besides, Oscorp really does exist in this universe, too—Norman is actually pretty nice. You don't want any unwarranted blame falling on him.

"Not a chance." He folds his arms over his bat-symboled chest and you falter with a sigh.

Worth a shot.

"Fine." Not to say he was the reason you finally relented—but his stare was pretty unnerving. "I was bit by genetically modified spider on a school field trip. It altered my DNA so I became stronger, faster, could stick to walls and became three times more flexible than the average person."

You finish with a winded breath, eyes scanning his expression for any hint of an emotion. You found none.

"Why should I believe you?"

Pausing, you glance away. Crouching down on that rooftop, on the ledge, staring down at the city below. Dimly lit roads and the people littering it. So much like your home, yet so different.

You could see why Batman was this city's protector. You could see why he was so careful about this world, and you almost respected him for it. At the same time, though, you couldn't help but think to all those chicken-scratched diaries.

By a helpless child, unable to depend on anybody but him in this world, and he had still failed. For that, you couldn't face him. Not now, not ever.

"You don't have to believe my story." You finally manage to unlodge the words from your throat. "I'm just saying that whatever your rules are—my existence doesn't defy them. You have no reason to keep chasing me down."

His sharp, whitened eyes narrow. It's the only thing visible in such deep darkness where he lingers.

"Actually..." Oracle's voice rings out through Batman's ears. "Their story... might have some truth to it. Check this out—Oscorp's been working on developing a, quote, super-powered spider. Says spider venom is the cure for disease and pandemics. They've been developing in this field for a while."

A super-powered spider sounds absolutely ridiculous, he thinks. But nothing he hadn't seen before. In a world full of aliens, heroes, personification of life, death, and everything in-between—he shouldn't be surprised at the prospect of gaining superpowers from spider venom.

Looking down at you now—slouched, facing away from him, and almost seeming restless... "Oscorp."

You look back at him, confused. "Huh?"

"Did that spider come from Oscorp?"

... You bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard. Looking back away before you could stop yourself. "No. I'm not from around here. I live far. Far away."

"What do you mean by far away? Why are you in Gotham, then?" He steps closer, to the point he's standing over you with all that intimidating bat-aura that makes the criminals of Gotham run for the hills. Still, you can't bear to see him. Because if you do, you know you'll spill everything you've been holding in like a waterfall.

"I don't know," you admit, honestly. "I don't know why I'm here. I want to go home, but I don't know where that is anymore. All I know is that, while I'm here, I might as well help people. Because... that's what I do."

For a moment, there's no sound other than the honking of cars on a busy road. He's quiet, as silent as he always is. Always was. For a moment, you think you almost see him as that father from so long ago.

But only for a moment.

"... How old are you?"

To your surprise, he doesn't immediately go to accusing you of lying again, or keep his standoffish persona any longer—only asking you this simple, yet strangely personal, question.

In simple words, you're really confused. "What? Why does that matter?"

"You sound young. Too young. And from the way I've seen you fight, you're experienced in fighting high, street-level crime. If I had to guess, I'd say you've been doing this for at least three years. Maybe more."

Sweat beads at the back of your neck, and suddenly everything starts caving in, crumbling like failed architecture. How did he know? How could he have possibly—

Batman continues, "The way you talk, and the way you behave in the public eye, you can't be an adult. I'm assuming you're a child. Meaning you've been fighting crime since you've been in your early teens, right?"

"What are you talking about?" You stand up at your full height, staring up at him. Glaring, as well as you can manage from underneath those refractive lenses. He doesn't back down. "I'm not—"

"You're a child," He repeats. "Don't carry this weight. You don't have to carry the weight of—" Gesturing towards the ground below, he stares down at you, strangely sadly, "All this. Especially not all by yourself. Not as a child."

The only word you want to spit out at him is hypocrite.

"Don't act all high and mighty. That Robin you have looks 12. You're saying a 12 year old is capable of fighting crime but I shouldn't? I'm nearly an adult, for god's sake! I'm—"

You slap your hands over your masked mouth, but still continue. "Don't treat me like I don't know better. You don't know me. You have no idea what has happened in my life."

"I only take Robin under my wing because he needs it. So I can watch over him."

You glare, "So what? So he can turn out like you?"

"So that he doesn't."

And to this, your lips feel sealed shut. You want to say something, but you can't. What could you possibly reply to this?

Even Oracle is silent. Not a word, not a peep. Nothing. The honking of cars has ceased, and it's like the world itself had just gone quiet for that one, stunning moment.

"You're not from here, so I don't know you," Finally, he speaks, and it's like the silence has been shattered like glass. "You're right. But... you're a child. You aren't obligated to this. This isn't your responsibility—to make this world better. If you can live normally, you should."

Isn't such normalcy why you ended up like this in the first place? All those entries, wishing to be like the rest of them—and here your father is now, telling you to be yourself.

If only they had heard this, you think, bitterly. Then, you'd know you were right. That he would only ever see you if you had become one of them.

The thought makes your stomach churn. How pretentious could this man—this devil—possibly be?

"You're wrong. To live normally like this, when I was given the strength to be better, to do things to be a better me... that's just wrong." You clench your fists, hard. "I already made that mistake before. It doesn't matter whether I'm 18 or 80. All that matters is that I'm doing what I know is right."

You pause, allowing the words to sink in. "But to discard the normally in your life is a waste. That's why I live the way I do. To protect the normalcy around me, the ones who can't protect themselves. With great power comes great responsibility... my responsibility is to be the best Spidey I can be."

...

You angle your wrist up and don't bother to look back at him when you walk away, "You and your birds can come after me all you want, but I won't stop doing what I think is right. 'Cause I'm a hero."

When you thwip away, you aren't so sure how you'd forgotten that. How a hero protects the ones they love above all else.

Your family aren't heroes. Perhaps, to the public, and even the whole world—but not to you. They'd failed to protect that child, a miserable, small child, left in that massive world.

To make it so they felt they had to save people, to take that responsibility of power to matter—that was their greatest failure.

"... Batman?" Barbara's voice is a dramatic shift from the silence that started to consume him. "Batman,are you okay? Batman? ... Bruce? Are you..."

He takes a moment to regain his composure, world still spinning as he speaks, "I'm fine. They're... they're okay." Saying the world's like they're hard to spit out, or like he's unsure himself. "I'm coming home."

Barbara wants to say something. About that spider. About what they said to him. Power, responsibility, protection, normalcy, love. But she doesn't. By the sound of his voice, he seems just as frazzled as she is. A conflicted Batman means no good for anybody, including her.

So, she will let him think. Oracle can take a back-seat for now. So can Batman. For now, she's just Barbara Gordon. And he's just Uncle Bruce.

Holding her tongue, "Cass and Steph aren't back yet. Kate left a while ago... said there was something she needed to do. ... Everyone else should be at home, I think..."

"Okay." He murmurs, quieter.

Barbara shuts her mouth and leans back in her chair. There's nothing else for her to say, so once more, there is silence.

...

When Bruce returns back to the Manor, he finds himself pushing past everything and everyone, including Alfred, and rushing up the stairs. Not even bothering to take off his suit fully—tossing his helmet behind him and walking away.

Down a hall to the left, then up right, then left again. Stopping once he, finally, stands in front of a door. Blank. Colourless, dull. Like the rest of the manor, blending in away from those extravagant suits and too-bulky armours.

After a brief moment of confliction, he brings his fist up, and knocks. Standing there, almost the size of the doorway, waiting for any kind of reply.

"Hello? What—"

You freeze at the sight of your father staring down at you—this time, his eyes were as blue as ever and his face was less grim. This time, you could see the greying of his dark hair and the crease of his brows.

This time, there was no escape.

"[name]." He says your name as if it's foreign, unfamiliar. Testing it out like a new spice or seasoning, then seeming to come to the conclusion that he likes it. "It's been a while."

You're frozen in place, mouth open yet unable to speak. What could you possibly do now? Run? Swing? Duck past—

A hand places itself on your shoulder and every siren in your body blasts itself tenfold. Blaring like the most buzzing and painful alarms—so awful that you have to grab the side of the doorframe to stop yourself from falling over.

Panic gnaws at every side of you, chest rising and falling erratically when your headache grows.

What is this? This is so much worse than when I'm with Jason—

His face morphs and blurs as does his words, yet you manage to catch the few, "I think we should spend more time together. Become closer, like how it was before. You are my child after all. The only one who doesn't have patrol or scoutings with me. That calls for more regular ways of bonding, right? That's my responsibility... as your father."

He's smiling. Hardly so, but you're about to collapse. A deafening buzz in your skull, you spit out any agreements you can manage through squeezed eyes, waiting for him to go, to leave, so for a moment, you can finally breathe.

"I'm glad you agree," he says, moving back. Clearing his throat, he looks down at you, recovering as he gives you space. "Next week, then?"

You clutch your head, jaw taut and stance tense. It's a wonder how he hadn't noticed your absolute discomfort, but you digress—just wanting him to go. "Sure."

"Good, then—" Before he can finish, your door slams shut in his face and once again, that barrier has returned. Bruce pauses, staring at that slab of wood keeping you from his line of sight.

Bruce lingers for a few moments longer, fingers hovering the handle, before retracting back and swallowing thick.

Batman walks away, but glances twice over his shoulder, cowl falling behind him.

You slump down your door with a heaving sigh, feeling your head start to clear and breathing stabilise.

That feeling of fear, of utter terror—it was the feeling you'd get with Jason and Tim, but tripled. It was torture. Absolutely awful. Unbearable. You'd not relt anything while you were Spidey on that rooftop, but seeing him here now send your senses spiralling into a whirlwind of chaos.

You grab your head and it falls onto your knees, pulled up to your chest.

Your eyes fall bleak and everything blurry again. Are you going to cry, like a child? To prove him right again, that you're afraid of this? Of him?

Maybe you were more similar to his version of you than you were lead to believe. Maybe—

Still, though, your phone buzzes.

A strange sounding noise compared to the cheap, hand-me-down one you had in your other room. Probably spammed with stupid videos from MJ, and worried texts from Harry. Maybe even the odd "how are you?" from Matt, or something.

(You still don't know how he texts, but that's beyond you).

You pick up your phone, despite the lingering thought it could just be from one of your family members. Siblings, or father.

... You were half right.

From a contact customised to say, the #coolest auntie, there's a text.

Hey, kid. Let's go out. It's been way too long.

You stare down at the bright phone screen for a few seconds longer than you should've. Surprised, sure, but just as confused. Swallowing and considering your options for a second.

You haphazardly let your fingers fly over the keyboard. If your contact name for her was this comfortable, she must be a good person, right? Maybe she could provide an outside perspective on everything. Your family, their hero-lives, even you.

You press your lips tightly together narrowing your eyes down at her contact profile picture. Short, red hair and a smug smile. Pale skin, and the features reminiscent of your father.

Sure. Where?

When you watch the text bubbles pop up on the screen, you can't help but wonder what exactly you're going to do next.

taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi @bunniotomia @lostsomewhereinthegarden @bat1212 @gaychaosgremlin @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @randomlyappearingartist @cxcilla @spidermanluvr444 @cruzerforce4256 @mybones537 @xjesterxjacksx @nirvanaxx1942 @djpuppy-kittens @br33zy-blizzardz @moon0goddess @0sunnyside01 @mei-simp @redsakura101 @the-dumber-scaramouche @wizzerreblogs @lovemiss-vale @deathbynarcisstick @allycat4458 @wonmyheart @luckyangelballoon @one-piecelover @hartwyrm @horror-lover-69 @maria-trisha @4rachn3 @galaxypurplerose @duskeras @coffeeaddictxd @lithiumval @kaz-playz

taglist is open!

[azzibuckets]

sweet [part seven]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: the queen of underdeveloped series is back…sincerest apologies for the long wait! im glad you guys have stuck around despite my inability to ever stick to a reasonable schedule

masterlist | series masterlist | sweet masterlist

Time heals all wounds.

It’s a mantra Azzi finds herself repeating in her head all too often. She repeats it when she breaks up with Micaela, although she realizes that the statement would've been more helpful for her now ex, who leaves with angry tears and a litany of curses trailing her wake, than herself, who merely takes a seat on the couch and stares aimlessly at the walls. She knows she should feel more than this—more sad, more upset, more regretful. More of anything. But she's so fucking tired of crying and feeling sad all the time, and Azzi can't really summon energy to even feel bad about the look on Micaela's face when she'd ended it so indifferently.

Again, Azzi repeats the mantra when she flies back home to Virginia after the Big East game, after the night she’d held Paige to sleep, the morning that she’d left her other half crying in the hotel room. And god, Azzi knows that for all the daggers she’s thrown at her best friend, all those furious accusations of how Paige has hurt her, she’s been hiding under it too. That deep inside, she knows full well that she's just as guilty, that she's driven the knife into Paige just as much. But hasn't it always been easier to avoid taking the blame, to scream at someone else instead of confronting your own demons?

It’s better for both of them to have space, Azzi justifies. And time. The further they are away from each other, the less likely they’re able to hurt each other. She has one more month of rehab in Virginia before she returns to Storrs for the rest of season—some state of normalcy will have to have returned by then, right?

Admittedly, she’s not in the best place mentally. She’s separated from her favorite people, forced to cheer them on through a TV screen and text them congratulations while pretending like the ugly, insecure voice in her head doesn't resent them for doing everything while she is capable of nothing. Azzi hates it when those thoughts invade her brain, but late at night, when her knee is screaming for relief and she feels so fucking alone, they take over and they don't stop. Lord knows how many sleepless nights she's spent digging herself into a mental spiral of anger towards herself and everyone else.

Azzi's been through this before, and she knows that pain is part of the process, but still, there are times she dreads having to wake up. Rehab is grueling, and she loves her parents, she does, but sometimes they get so overbearing. It’s not until her teammates come and visit that her moods finally lightens, and she finally feels a semblance of her old self again.

They surprise her, showering her with silly string and confetti. Azzi rolls her eyes, but she can't really hide the smile that breaks out on her lips. Even Kayla shows up, and the two nights they fill her house with chaos are the best of the entire month. She plays board games and hops on Fortnite and has mindless conversations with her teammates, things she missed so terribly, and tries not to feel bothered by the fact that Paige hadn’t come with the rest of the team. Neither had Caroline, and KK tells her that Paige hadn’t wanted to leave their friend alone in the dorms. Azzi can’t find it in herself to hate Paige for that, even though she suspects that that wasn’t the only reason for her keeping her distance.

When the first rolls around, Azzi is nervous. It’s been four weeks of no contact—the closest thing they’d gotten to interacting was Azzi liking Paige’s new Instagram post, for fuck’s sake. She’d stared pathetically for about forty-seven minutes, studying each of the slides, debating whether or not she should leave a comment. It had been a battle between the selfish side of her—the side that had wanted to pop up in Paige's notifications and force her to remember that Azzi still existed, make her feel some of Azzi's torture of always thinking of Paige—and the reasonable part of her, her conscience that said you are the reason why you can't even do something as simple as like a post anymore.

Even more overwhelming is the cycle of what-ifs when she thinks about having to face Paige again. The radio silence between them left no room for more arguments, but now she’s completely in the dark about what Paige’s current feelings are towards her, and she really can’t blame her if it’s anger, or resentment, or something worse, but still, the mere thought of Paige ignoring her or refusing to talk to her hurts Azzi more than she wants to admit.

Trying to focus on the positive, or basketball, or really anything besides Paige, Azzi is thankful when she returns to Storrs with much funfare. As soon as she opens the door to her apartment, there’s a mess of balloons and cheers, and a welcome back cake on the table. It’s a good distraction, until she scans the room and is hit with the fact that Paige isn’t there, again, and an ugly knot begins to form in her chest.

“You good?” Azzi, trying to stress eat her way through her worries, is spooning a piece of sugary cake and whipped cream into her mouth when a hand rubs her shoulder.

“Hey, Nika,” she greets the brunette, pulling her in for a brief hug. “Yeah, I’m good.” She doesn’t miss the way Nika eyes her up and down, clearly seeing right through her.

Azzi hesitates, tapping her fork against her plate, nerves jumping all over the place. She’s not sure how much Nika knows, being Paige’s closest friend and her go-to confidant, but she thinks that she’d be remiss to assume that Paige had said nothing about the ongoing tension between the two of them. But the curiosity in her is too intense for her to tamp down, so she asks anyways. “Thanks for putting all this together. Where’s, uh, Paige?” She winces immediately, knowing her attempts to be nonchalant had grossly failed.

She swears she sees a sliver of a smile on Nika’s lips. “She’s studying right now. Has an exam in an hour.”

“Oh, okay. Makes sense.” Azzi shovels another bite of cake into her mouth, trying to shut herself up before she says anything stupid, but as soon as she swallows, more words are escaping her mouth. “Does she know that I’m back?” God, way to play it cool. But Azzi isn’t all that shocked with herself; she’s never been good at controlling herself when it comes to a certain blue eyed blonde.

Nika’s eyes narrow. “You injure your head too?"

Azzi blinks at her.

Shaking her head, Nika jostles her arm playfully. “Of course she knows your back, dumbass. She was tracking your location and shit. Lili was about to choke her the way she kept bothering her to leave early so you wouldn’t have to wait at the airport.”

“Oh.” Azzi is stunned, the knot in her chest loosening slightly at this new piece of knowledge.

“She missed you, you know.” The older girl studies her carefully with a cocked head. “Refused to admit it, but everyone could tell. We were watching Frozen and all she could talk about was ‘Azzi loves this movie, Azzi’s favorite character is Olaf, oh Azzi laughed so hard at this scene last time we watched.'” Nika rolls her eyes affectionately at the memory. “It’s like she forgets we're your teammates and know you too."

Azzi laughs off-handedly, but inside she's frozen. What does it mean when two people can't stop staying away from each other? What does it mean when Azzi had pushed Paige away, had kept running, had hated Paige for not chasing when that was what she told her to do? Azzi thinks she would've deserved it if Paige never spoke to her again, if Paige refused to even look her in the eye. But no—here Paige was, telling people that Azzi's favorite Frozen character is Olaf, as if that wasn't the most stupidly cute thing Azzi had ever heard her do. Azzi's temples throb. What does it mean that she'd just spent an entire month trying to get rid of her feelings, listing out all the reasons why her and Paige shouldn't be together, but came right back to Storrs loving Paige just the same?

༉‧₊˚✧

The morning of her second day back at UConn, Azzi wakes up to a message from the athletic trainer requesting her to come in as soon as possible to start their rehab regimen. Groaning, Azzi throws on some booty shorts and a tank top, planning to get through the appointment as quick as possible then come back to her bed to sleep all her problems away.

When she walks in, they're wrapping up with the volleyball team, so Azz slumps down in one of the chairs to wait. Her head tips back against the wall; maybe she'll be able to catch a few minutes of rest before the trainer calls her in. She's almost nodding off when she hears a familiar hum followed by increasingly louder footsteps. Eyes flying open, she watches as Paige turns the corner and walks in, typing away on her phone. Azzi’s heart skips a beat when she realizes that she’s not wearing a shirt.

And okay, maybe she’s seen Paige in just a sports bra a million times, but what’s that saying? Time heals all wounds Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Because she swears Paige has never looked this alluring, skin gleaming with sweat, the lean muscle in her arms tensing as she walks. She has the post-workout glow, a happy haze coming off freshly released endorphins, and Azzi's hormones start firing in overdrive when Paige's shorts ride up slightly as she walks, giving a glimpse of the smooth, sinewy muscle of her thighs. It’s even worse that Azzi can just close her eyes and remember, remember the way those same thighs had felt around her hips, or had tensed up when her hand had just grazed the skin there — God fucking dammit. She’s literally falling apart on a cold metal chair in an office. Berating herself, she sits a little straighter as she waits for the inevitable.

Paige’s eyes widen slightly when she finally tucks her phone into her back pocket and meets her stare, but it’s quickly curbed into into a mask of indifference. Azzi clears her throat hesitantly, deciding to go with a small, harmless wave. But it’s awkward, God, why can’t she be normal for two fucking seconds, and she instantly regrets it.

“Hey, Azzi.” Paige’s tone is sweet, and even she seems slightly taken aback by the softness in her tone when it leaves her mouth. But slowly her lips turn into a small smile, and Azzi finds herself smiling as well. It's like two school girls seeing each other again after a long Christmas break, shy with hopeless crushes, and Jesus, Azzi had missed the innocence and blissfulness of just being a high schooler toeing the brink of this devastating and forceful thing called love.

Paige takes a furtive look around before plopping down in the seat next to Azzi. A long exhale leaves her mouth as she extends out her legs. Azzi has to physically turn her head this time in order to stop staring, trying to ignore the fact that Paige has somehow gotten tanner in the winter season. For a split second, Paige’s foot knocks against hers. Azzi is ashamed to say that the brief moment of contact sets her entire body alight with nerves. “How are you?” Paige breathes out finally.

Azzi fixes Paige with a raised eyebrow, half amused as her lips almost twitch into a smile. Normal, she reminds herself. Be normal. “Are you really trying to make small talk?”

Paige laughs a little, and Azzi pretends that the sound doesn’t send a pleasant flush through her body. She knows she’s missed Paige’s laugh, but now she realizes that maybe she’d missed being the cause of it more. “No. I’m really tryna know how you are.” The older girl heaves another big sigh, always one for dramatics. “I’m sorry for not going with the team to visit you in Virginia. Or going to your welcome back thing. I know how it looks after how our last conversation ended, but I wasn’t tryna be salty or prove a point or anything, I swear.”

Paige and Azzi have been to hell and back the past couple of months, yet through it all, the one thing that’s stayed true-blue is their honesty, at times painfully so. Azzi trusts Paige, more than anyone in the world, so she believes her without a doubt. Except she wants to know one more thing. “Would you have ever reached out though? If you hadn’t seen me here?”

Paige nibbles on her bottom lip. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice barely audible. “I’ve never been good at staying away from you.” She looks away as she says this, as if she's scared to see Azzi's reaction, like she expects for it to be negative, and Azzi so badly wants to reach for her face and say me too, ask is it killing you like it's killing me?, and her hand lifts up of its own accord, and she's so close, so close to admitting everything she's always been too scared to say out loud, but then one of the trainers call for her, and Azzi stands up so quickly that the chair screeches back and almost falls over. Thankfully, Paige catches it before it does, but now Azzi can’t stop staring at her hands, big and veiny, gripping the metal like it used to grip her. She looks up, but Paige’s eyes are already on her, raking over every inch of her body, of her thighs and tummy and clavicle, like someone starved. Azzi stumbles, feeling lightheaded under the older girl's burning stare. "Gotta go,” she stutters. “I’ll - I’ll see you around.” Paige blinks rapidly then nods, as if she didn't hear her.

When Azzi has finished, she's surprised to see Paige still in the same spot as before. "Still waiting?" she questions, sitting down next to her to slide on her shoes.

"No." Paige lifts her arms and stretches, and Azzi swears she can see her v-line poking out from beneath her boxers. "Just finished up like, half an hour ago."

"Oh." Azzi loops her shoe strings together into a tight knot.

"Well, I guess I was waiting."

Azzi's hands still.

"I was waiting for you." Paige pulls the sleeve of her hoodie over her hands nervously. "Was wondering if, um, you'd be down to do something?"

"Do something?"

"Nothing weird!" Paige interrupts, a blush setting into her cheeks. "Just like, something normal. And friendly."

Azzi finishes tying her shoelaces and sits up. "That sounds good."

"Forreal?" Paige doesn't even try to hide her surprise, and Azzi winces. Is this their new reality? Her hurting Paige to the point where she sets her expectations so low that Azzi can't possibly hurt her again?

"Well, yeah." Azzi stands up and grabs her backpack, trying not to let her conflicted feelings show on her face. She's always been an open book. "When?"

"Maybe like, right now? If you're up for it. I know the rehab sessions are tiring, so no biggie if you can't."

Azzi smiles. She's tired, but she's missed Paige, and she's standing there so eagerly she can't find it in herself to say no. "Okay. Can we get ice cream or something?"

"Whatever you want, princess," Paige teases, then she seems to realize how flirtatious her tone sounds and she immediately shuts up. An awkward silence falls between them and Azzi inwardly groans.

"You're weird," Azzi says. Then she punches Paige in the shoulder and starts walking. "Catch up."

"So, like..." Paige stuffs her hands into her pockets, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Like, I know you're a strong and independent woman and shit."

"And shit?" Azzi echoes, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Yeah. And that you can handle your own."

Azzi narrows her eyes. "I can."

"Yup." Paige nods vigorously in agreement. "But like, your backpack looks big as hell. And you're lowkey tilting to your right when you walk. And like, I'm not even carrying anything, so it might be easier for you if I just take your backpack."

Azzi scratches her head. "You did all that buildup to ask if you could carry my backpack?"

Paige flushes an even darker red. "No! I mean, yeah," she laments. "But like, not in a girlfriend way like we used to. Not like, we were girlfriends or anything." Paige groans at herself. "But like in a friendly, your knee is hurt and I wanna help, kinda way. You know?" When Azzi stares at her again, she backtracks, "I just — I don't wanna do anything that makes you think I'm trying get with you, okay? I wanna be a good friend."

Azzi smiles softly. "Don't overthink it." She slips off the strap and pushes her bag into Paige's chest, who accepts it with a grin. "I'm actually insulted you didn't ask earlier."

"Alright, whatever," Paige grumbles, then mumbles "princess" again, under her breath, but it's not awkward this time, and Azzi shoves her and they both laugh, arms brushing as they walk side by side, admittedly a little closer than they should be.

"What should I get?" Azzi muses, her finger skimming over the glass as she stares at all the different flavors.

"You always spend thirty minutes debating just to end up always getting the same thing," Paige accuses. She quickly scans the menu before flagging down the attention of the worker. "A cone with two scoops of vanilla and a cup with two scoops of cotton candy, please."

"Hey!" Azzi objects. "You didn't even give me a choice to decide!"

"I gave myself the choice of choosing between happiness or waiting two days for you to decide," Paige shoots back.

"You never know." Azzi crosses her arms pointedly. "This could've been the day I finally decided to try banana."

"Be so for real right now, Azzi," Paige groans. "You don't even like normal bananas."

"I fucking love bananas so I don't even know what you're talking about." Azzi turns away, pretending to be upset, when she feels hands skim her waist.

"Don't be mad, Az." Paige's hands squeeze a little, and Azzi lets out a small little sigh at the feeling of finally being touched by her after so long. "Come on, lemme see that pretty face," she prods. The younger girl turns around, and suddenly their faces are close. Too close.

Paige immediately takes a step back, her hands jerking away from Azzi's waist as if they'd just been burned. Azzi looks at her, confused at the sudden motion, but they're disrupted by the worker calling out Paige's name.

They walk back to Azzi's apartment, eating their ice cream, but the tension is too palpable for them to ignore anymore. Azzi's heart clenches when Paige shifts away when their elbows almost brush as they walk silently, so far from how they'd been pressed together an hour earlier. You have no right to be upset, she reminds herself. But her heart has never really followed her mind, and so she's upset anyways.

"Thanks for coming." Paige tosses her empty cup and spoon into a nearby trash can and turns to face Azzi. "I had fun."

"I did too." Azzi ducks her head. "Thank you for paying."

Blue eyes shine brightly at her. "Of course."

Azzi unlocks the door as Paige leans against the opposite wall, watching her. As her key slots into the door, memories flood of Paige wrapping her arms around her waist, chin digging affectionately into Azzi's shoulder as she'd opened the door, and they'd stumble in together, giggling like fools.

But she turns around, and Paige's hands are still in her pockets, too far to touch even if she'd reached out. "Bye," Azzi says. "Walk safe."

Paige nods. "See you."

༉‧₊˚✧

Things almost return to normal, except for the fact that Paige's refusal to touch her doesn't stop that night. No brushing away a curl for her when she's lifting and her hair falls over her eyes, no hand resting on her lower back, no contact between their thighs whenever they sit together. When Azzi invites Paige over for a movie night, just the two of them, in hopes of restoring their friendship, Paige is overly polite, conversing like normal but maintaining a respectful distance of at least two feet at all times. But Azzi is optimistic, even though she doesn't feel happy. Paige is doing everything she asked her to — tamping down her feelings (while Azzi's, if anything, are getting more out of control), staying respectful, keeping their boundaries. So why does Azzi still feel so empty?

It's a Friday night when she gets a text from Nika with the message "You've been too stressed lately...let's get lit" and an address attached.

When Azzi enters the bar with Aaliyah and spots a familiar blonde by Nika, she curses, knowing by now that her, Paige, and alcohol don't make a good combination.

But honestly, this really isn't even her fault. She hadn't even known Paige would be at this random ass bar half an hour away from Storrs. I mean sure, it made sense, since Nika was the one who'd invited Azzi and Paige tagged along with Nika almost everywhere as her self-declared twin, but still. How could've Azzi really, surely known?

Azzi immediately knows that Paige is already too far gone when the blonde approaches her with a dopey, tired smile, arms stretched wide for a hug. Azzi reciprocates loosely, hands patting her back before falling back to her side.

She immediately accepts a shot from Aaliyah once Paige leaves, determined to forget about her for one night, except Paige had apparently just gone to the bathroom and was right back within minutes, arm slipping through Azzi's easily, like she'd always belonged there. Azzi sighs. It's not easy to forget someone that's attached to you, and Paige is doing just that, refusing to leave her side for even a second throughout the entire night.

Aaliyah quirks an eyebrow at them. "This should be good," she mutters to Nika, who only smirks in return.

“You drank too much,” Azzi chides Paige as she sits in a bar stool, head tucked into the crook of Azzi’s shoulder while Azzi stands between her legs. But the dark haired girl has always been a softie for drunk, clingy Paige, so she doesn’t push her away like she know she should, instead pulling her closer and resting her cheek to the top of the older girl's head.

"Can I tell you something?" Paige whispers out of the blue.

Azzi strokes her fingers through her hair, enjoying the way the alcohol has made her feel ten times lighter. "Mm."

“Missed you,” Paige whispers. “Packed my bags three different times. Got into my car every single one of those times and was this close to driving all the way to you.” Paige holds up her pointer and thumb finger, pinching them together so that they’re almost touching. "Had my fucking maps navving to your address and all." Then she falls back into Azzi, as if that small action had exhausted her, and tiredly nuzzles her face into her neck. “But then I'd remember the look on your face—and I knew that I couldn’t—but shit, Azzi, I was thinking about you the whole time. Couldn’t stop if I tried. Killed me not being able to talk to my best friend.” Paige's words slur together, but there's a raw honesty in the way she says it so earnestly.

“Did you ever hate me?” The question slips out of Azzi's mouth before she can stop it. She tenses as she waits for the answer.

“Could never hate you, Azzi. Look at you. So fuckin perfect and sweet and pretty, pretty, pretty.” Paige presses a smacking kiss to her shoulder, and although her mouth and Azzi's skin are separated by multiple layers of clothing, somehow the desperation with which Paige mouths at her over her jacket, the way her eyes linger unashamedly on Azzi's face, is far more intimate than anything they’ve ever done before.

Azzi doesn't know how they end back on campus, how they end up in her room. She must be more intoxicated than she thought, even though she only had a couple of drinks. She undresses into her pajamas, and Paige sits on the bed, watching with glazed over eyes.

She makes quick work of her top, throwing it to the side. Thankfully she chose to wear her nice bra, not one of her frayed sports ones. Next is her shorts; she yanks her zipper, but to no avail. It's caught on the denim of her jeans. And she know she could probably fix it if she twisted just a little bit harder, but the way Paige is looking at her, and the way she aches to feel Paige's touch, has her calling her over, voice raspy and breathless. "Can you help me? It's stuck."

Paige's fingers make nimble work of the zipper. When it's pulled all the way down, exposing the white of Azzi's underwear along with the soft skin of her lower tummy, she swears and looks up, meeting Azzi's eyes. "Fuck, Az," she says, voice low and heated. "You have no idea what you do to me."

Azzi subconciously pushes her hips forward, and a strangled sound leaves Paige's throat as her hands press into the groove of her hip, fingers tense and trembling against the denim of her shorts. They haven't even had skin to skin contact, and Paige is already gone. “Azzi,” she begs roughly. “Tell me to stop.”

Azzi doesn’t tell her to stop. She doesn’t tell her that her touch feels like the most right thing in the world. She doesn't tell her that she can't remember why she ever let Paige go, when Paige looks at her like she's the only person in the goddamn world. Azzi doesn't say anything, instead covering Paige’s hand with her own, guiding it up past the safety of her clothes and onto her waist. Paige's fingers splay out against her ribs. They’re cold, and Azzi shivers.

"Don't stop," she whispers, and Paige moves forward, mouth fitting on Azzi's so perfectly she forgets how to breathe. Her tongue, wet and curious, brushes Azzi’s bottom lip, and Azzi’s lips part. They’ve never kissed like this — slow, soft, relishing in each other’s taste. It's always been heated, desperate, but now it feels like they're getting lost in each other before they lose each other completely.

Azzi forgets her shorts are still unzipped until Paige's hand falls back on, tracing the waistband and then her belly button. “Can I touch?”

Azzi nods, guiding Paige to kneel down on the carpet before her. Her best friend kisses her piercing, then licks at the skin around it, wet open mouthed kisses that have Azzi grabbing her head and moving it closer to her skin, chasing the feeling of more, more, more.

“My girl,” Paige slurs as she makes her way down her stomach. “My fuckin girl.”

The pet name slips out, and Azzi used to hate it when guys called her ridiculous names like those, but when it comes out of Paige's mouth, lovely and honeyed, she realizes just how much she loves it. And not just the way it sounds, but how everything Paige does always feels so much sweeter than from anyone else. She grabs Paige's face and pulls her up, kissing her hard, and they're making out for a few minutes before Paige puts a hand on Azzi’s chest, gently separating the two of them. She can feel Paige's heart pounding through her chest, matching her own erratic heart beat.

"Why'd you stop?" Azzi says, chasing Paige's lips, but Paige strokes her chin.

"Azzi, you're crying," Paige whispers, and only now does Azzi see the concern pooling in her eyes. Her thumb brushes ever so gently across the younger girl's cheekbone, coming away glistening with a tear drop.

“No." Azzi shakes her head. "I’m sorry," she chokes out.

“Baby.” Paige’s voice is tender and soft and worn, like it’s been on the tip of her tongue, waiting to escape her mouth and sound so perfect. “What’re you sorry for?”

“For running away."

The blonde inhales, thumb still rubbing soft circles on Azzi's cheek.

"For being too scared."

“Azzi."

Azzi leans forward. The tip of her nose brushes against Paige’s, and she hears the older girl let out a whimper. “You love me?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“I do.” Paige’s thumb strokes across her skin, across the bottom of her shorts. “God, you know I do.”

“Good. Because I love you.” Azzi's lips brush the corner of the older girl's mouth, fleetingly, and Paige can only stare at her as her heart thumps faster, all her jagged edges softening and melting away.

“You were right. I was scared before.” Azzi presses a kiss to the other corner of Paige’s mouth. “And I know I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“You have.”

“And I’m dumb and I’m selfish, and it probably won’t be the last time I hurt you because somehow I always manage to say and do the wrong thing.”

Paige half laughs, half sobs. “Only sometimes.”

"But if it's not too late," Azzi kisses the little scar above her eyebrow, then the bridge of her nose, "I want to try."

"You want to try?"

"You're worth it." Azzi presses one long kiss to her forehead, cupping her head in her palms. "You're worth everything."

"Do you mean it?" Paige's fingertips graze her wrists, voice strained. "Cause I know I'm drunk, but you're drunk too. And—and I don't think I can take waking up in an empty bed. I can't handle another fight, Azzi. I can't."

"That's the truest thing I've ever said," Azzi promises fiercely. "I swear to you."

"Okay." Her lips find the inner softness of Azzi's wrists, kissing the skin there. "I trust you."

"You trust me?" Azzi can't help but be a little wondrous that through it all, Paige is so willing to give her such a big piece of herself.

"I trust you and I love you and I want you." Paige reaches for her waist, movements slow and reverent. "Can I show you?" Her voice is soft, trembling, vulnerable, eyes searching Azzi’s.

Azzi's pulse skips a beat. Her grip tightens on Paige’s shoulder, fingers digging into her skin with pure desire that sets every part of her body aflame. “Show me.”

[xazse]

Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂‍↕️❤️)

PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!

PT1 HERE

Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33

Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition

People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!

WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.

Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.

You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.

You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.

It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.

WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.

You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru’s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.

When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.

Bonus!

Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.

He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.

He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.

You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.

The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.

Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.

[delugyu]

kinda need a dilf soobin fic after seeing this tweet im literally sooo needy for him and soobin and impregnation kink go hand in hand hell yeah

https://x.com/twelve05cm/status/1909199625203986476?s=46&t=U4fjq0fKz8UIHAp0_D907w

dilf soobin is something so special to me

(wc: 2.8k / warnings: marriage au, breeding kink, tons of body worship, oral (f rec.), so much kissing, unprotected sex)

soobin has been wanting to become a dad for a while. you’ve been married for a year now, and the rate at which he’s mentioned having kids has only increased over the past few months. you usually laugh it off and tell him you’re not quite ready, but right now, watching him goof around with your friend’s two daughters… you’ll admit, your womb feels a little empty.

there’s something so pure in his eyes when he looks at these kids. he’s like a gentle giant, treating them so carefully and talking to them so patiently. your heart soars when you watch the girls lean into soobin, little arms wrapping around his big body. the sight is so cute that you can’t stop staring.

your friend takes notice of your staring. “baby fever?” she asks with a knowing grin on her face. you turn to her with a guilty smile. she continues, “i could smell it off you from a mile away.”

“isn’t it so cute?” you say, watching as one of your friend’s daughters play with soobin’s hair. the other stays attached to soobin’s hip, entertained just by chasing soobin’s hand that he playfully pulls from her tiny one.

“it is,” your friend agrees. “you two would be amazing parents.” her statement almost makes you tear up. you can picture it so clearly: standing in your yard with soobin, watching your child run around in the grass. you really want that some day. in fact—

“i kind of want to start a family,” you tell soobin once you get back home and in your bedroom. he blinks at you, standing dumbly for a moment like he hasn’t processed your words. you walk toward him, unable to contain your excitement. you’re so giddy about finally feeling ready to give soobin what he’d always dreamed of.

his starstruck face is so funny. you cup his cheeks and give him a short, sweet kiss. his eyes scan yours like he needs to know that this moment is actually real. you kiss him once more to prove it.

“soobin,” you say, thumbs rubbing the apple of his cheeks. “i’m really ready now.”

he kisses you like he can’t hold himself back, hands clutching onto your waist to pull your body into his. it’s hard to kiss him when the two of you are smiling so widely and giggling so much. your hands shift to his shoulders, caressing him lovingly. there’s a slight buzz in your body from all the anticipation.

“baby,” he says, pulling away from the kiss to look you in the eye once more. “are you sure?” he gently guides you backward onto the bed, laying you down like you’re fragile and precious.

“i’m really sure. i want to give you a child, and i want to be a good mom, and i want to make you a dad. i want a family of our own.” your words are so sincere that it almost chokes you up. soobin stares at you with such love and adoration in his eyes that it would be impossible to not want to give everything to him—your heart, your body, your life, your future.

he takes your hand in his and brings it to his mouth. he kisses your ring finger, right over your wedding band, and it feels like falling in love all over again. it feels like the start of the rest of your life.

“i love you so much,” he says, devotion dripping off his words. his hands pull your skirt off slowly while his lips find yours. his touch runs along your thighs, feeling up and attending to all your flesh. he parts from the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, then strips you of your bra. you sigh out when he wraps his lips around your nipple, threading your fingers through his hair.

“i love you too,” you breathe out, hips rolling up into his. his hands eat up every inch of your skin as his mouth worships you. “so much. more than you could ever know,” you add. his hand travels down between your thighs, rubbing at the junction and pulling a moan from you.

his tongue flicks across your nipple before he pulls away, a strand of saliva connecting his lips to your skin. the hand that’s not pleasuring your center moves to cup and squeeze your breasts, watching your reactions diligently. he circles his thumb around your pebbled bud and smiles fondly when it makes you keen. he pinches your nipple, then soothes it, then brings his other hand up from your core so he can focus on both your mounds.

he massages your tits with careful hands, slender fingers so skillful and attuned to your pleasure. he knows everything there is to know about you, including what gets you the wettest. he’s toying with your body in the exact ways he’s learned works best over the years, and it’s effective. you can’t control the way your back arches into the feeling, gasping and clutching onto the bed sheets.

“my pretty wife,” he praises, leaning down to place a kiss over your heart. he continues to pepper kisses across your chest and collarbones, keeping his mouth and fingers busy with spoiling you. “i want to be with you forever.”

“mhm,” you hum, but it sounds much more like a moan than an earnest agreement. your mouth drops open, hips grinding desperately into the air in search of some relief for the pressure between your legs. he notices and takes pity on you, returning one of his hands to your clothed slit. he runs a finger over your folds, and your legs shake at the sensation. he rubs tight circles over your clit, unhurried and focused. your hips continue to jerk up, chasing the relief soobin provides you.

“my pretty baby’s feeling good?” he asks, pinching and tugging at your nipples, making sure to give both your breasts attention. you nod feverishly, making him hum in satisfaction. “yeah, gotta keep you happy. gotta keep you wet, right? keep this little cunt nice and wet.” he presses his finger down on your clit and runs it through your folds as if to prove his point, stopping at your entrance to feel the arousal seeping through the thin material of your panties.

he pulls your panties to the side and holds your hips up a bit so he can watch your cunt ooze out. he runs his hands down your thighs soothingly, caressing the flesh as your pussy continues to leak. he licks a stripe up your neck, greedy hands moving to your waist, then your breasts, your arms, your hands. he intertwines his fingers with yours and holds them at either side of your head, mouth meeting yours again for a searing kiss. his tongue invades your mouth, licking desperately into you while you grind against him.

your body keeps jolting, so incredibly on edge, feeling like you need almost nothing to push you over. you’re so worked up that you feel insane. your hands tighten their grip on soobin’s, desperate to take in as much of him as you can.

“i really need you,” you whine as you disconnect from his hot lips, stomach muscles clenching from how close you already feel. “hurts so bad, soobin. please, baby.”

he coos at you and kisses your cheek. he trails his kisses from your cheek back to your mouth, licking your bottom lip with need. you open your mouth readily, letting him tangle his tongue with yours again. you feel pathetic with how much you’re whining and moaning, and more so when you realize how bad you’re trembling.

soobin attaches his mouth to your throat, sucking and nipping at your skin eagerly. his hands stay in yours, not loosening his grip even as he continues trailing his tongue down. he coats you in his kisses, loving every inch of your skin that he can. his tongue laves over your navel, kissing all over your stomach and biting your waist.

“soobin, please,” you beg yet again. he looks up at you from where he now rests between your legs, keeping eye contact as he runs his tongue over your cunt. your hands release from his as they fly to your tits, playing with yourself as soobin tends to your slit.

his tongue dives into your hole, nose pressed against your clit as he curls the muscle up inside you. you cry out, and soobin has to hold your legs apart to keep them from dancing around everywhere. he moans as he licks further into you, movements desperate as he shuts his eyes to focus on working his tongue inside you.

“so close..!” you yelp out, clutching onto strands of his hair as you pull his face closer to you. he groans at that, and the vibrations leave your body jolting. “nngh—gonna cum on your face, baby.”

his hungry slurps and moans serve as encouragement for you to grind harder against his face. you’re nearly seeing stars when he starts flicking his tongue around, riding his face in a sloppy rhythm as your high starts crashing over you.

“fuck, soobin, that’s it! god, right fucking there,” you moan. he presses his face as close to you as he can possibly get, and his fingers sink deep into your thighs with his effort to hold you open. he laps up all the cum that pools out of you, aching for as much of it as he can get.

he pulls away once your body stills, licking his lips as his eyes run down your body. “you’re so hot,” he says, coming up to steal a kiss from you. your hands clumsily try to peel his shirt off of him, and he decides to have mercy and help you out after a minute of struggling. you’re still shaky, so getting soobin out of his clothes is a bit of a hard task.

you bite down on your lip as you watch soobin take off his pants and boxers. his cock is rock hard and weeping, and your mouth pools with saliva at the sight. you grab onto his shaft, pumping him slowly, but he grabs your wrist to stop your movements. you blink up at him in question.

“gonna cum too soon if you do that,” he explains. his hand runs over your lower stomach, pressing down where your womb is. “need to spill myself deep in here.” he presses his palm down harder, and your legs clamp shut at the unexpected pleasure.

he pries your legs back open and directs his tip to your sopping entrance. his eyes are lustful and unfocused as he hovers his face over yours. “fuck me,” you plead pathetically.

“i’ll fuck you,” he agrees. he starts pushing himself in.

“give me a baby,” you add, parting your legs a little wider in invitation, even as he’s already sheathing himself inside you. his hips push much further into you at your raunchy words.

“i’m going to,” he promises. his eyes are dark, and he doesn’t look away for a second. you bask in the intensity of the moment, letting the sensuality consume you. “you’ll be a mommy. you’ll make me so happy.”

he grinds his pelvis against you when he bottoms out, letting you squirm and gasp beneath him. his hand find your clit, rubbing messily over it like he’s already trying to get you to cum. you widen your eyes and grasp onto his wrist, but he doesn’t stop.

“s-soobin,” you moan.

“just give me another orgasm, baby,” he says, starting to fuck you now. his pace quickly turns relentless and sloppy, trying to bring you over the edge.

your eyes roll back as he hammers into you, angling his hips up until he hits a spot that makes you cry. “fuck! there!” you sob, clutching onto soobin for dear life.

“yeah? here?” he asks, breathless, hitting the spot again. your answer comes in the form of a broken moan, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes. “right there, huh, baby… feels so good, i know.” his voice is so soft but deep and sexy. matters are only made worse when he presses against your lower stomach again, making your legs kick out.

“i’m gonna cum,” you warn, and soobin doubles his efforts to get you there.

“yeah, let me feel it, pretty. promise i’ll give you a baby right after,” he rambles, placing a hundred wet kisses onto your neck and shoulders. your walls clamp down over him, and your legs tighten around soobin’s waist as you cum. he sings praises against your skin, voice all gravelly and dark. it makes you shiver.

what’s more exciting is the rush you feel right after you cum. every inch of your body is alight, extra sensitive, extra receptive, all because you know what comes next. soobin smiles down at you, so fond and adoring that you can’t help but steal one of his hands to take in your own.

“take it from me,” you whisper. “my womb is yours. just like my heart, just like my soul.” soobin’s hand flattens out over your stomach. he stares at you like he’s never longed for something more in his life.

“i’ll give you the world,” soobin whispers back, sealing his promise with a kiss on your lips. he slowly starts fucking you again, taking his time. “you gave me everything. let me be the best man you could ask for.”

and he is. he’s such a good husband that you wonder how you could have gotten so lucky in this life. he loves you more than you thought was ever possible, and you never question his devotion. he’s the only man you’d ever want this with. you want all of yourself to be his, just as all of him is yours.

“i love you,” you declare as you place your palm over his beating heart. his pace hastens at your words, as if you’ve activated something inside him. his thrusts are deep and purposeful, and you’ve never felt more connected to him than you do now.

“you’ll take all of me,” he says, getting lost in the moment. you want him to fall into the feeling, to succumb to his instincts and claim your body for good. “you’ll carry my baby like a good wife.”

you whine at his words and the roughness of his voice. “i will,” you agree.

“and i’ll keep you nice and full,” soobin continues, jackhammering into you now. your eyes shut as you allow him to take you as he pleases, feeling ecstasy fill your veins at the promise of carrying soobin’s child.

“need to feel you cum in me,” you plead, grabbing onto him desperately.

“yeah? i’ll drain myself inside you. plug you up real good so nothing goes to waste.” he’s frantic now, hands squeezing your flesh as he chases his high. your head spins, needing him to release inside you already.

“do it, need it..!” he doesn’t leave you waiting long, bottoming out and spilling inside your warm walls with a harsh slam.

“fuck, baby… stay still for me, keep it all in,” he groans, hands running all over your body like he can’t decide what to pay attention to. he ends up settling on your hips, pulling you flush against him so that there’s no chance of any of his seed escaping you. he’s breathing heavily on top of you, so hard that you’re a little concerned.

“binnie?” you ask, making sure he’s okay. he lifts his head toward you and smiles a little, eyes softening as his climax fades.

“baby?” he answers with a cute giggle. he kisses your jaw, pulling away with a loud smooching sound. you can’t help but laugh at his endearing antics. “i can’t tell you how happy i am.”

“you don’t have to. i can see it all over your face,” you say, running a hand through his sweaty hair. you stare at him in silent admiration for a few seconds, letting the butterflies swarm in your stomach. “i’m excited too.”

soobin rests his head on your chest. “i can feel your heartbeat,” he comments.

“mhm, just for you.” you close your eyes and let the bliss of the moment ease you toward sleep. you feel soobin intertwine his hand in yours once again.

“you’re gonna be a mommy~” soobin says, all dorky and giddy.

“and you’ll be the best dad ever,” you add. you run a hand down his back in the way you know gets him tired. “now let’s rest.”

you drift off imagining that not-so-far-away world where you and soobin watch your kid run wild in the yard. you don’t think you stop smiling even when you sleep.

[ifwdominicfike]

matt helps you out a little while taking a group photo with him and his brothers

── .✦. ──

“okay, guys can you hurry up my arms gonna fucking fall off already god-“ nick says while holding up the small camera in his hand.

you all had gone out but it really was just an excuse for you and nick to get good pictures to post, as the night went on the pink and orange hues in the sky were starting to fade before you knew it.

you guys had been trying to get a good picture for about 10 minutes now, nick was complaining about why he had to hold the camera, chris kept saying matt was blocking his view, and matt kept pointing out every cat he saw so you weren’t really getting anywhere.

“okay okay nick shut the fuck up already, kid we’re going” chris says obviously irritated by his brother, you stood in front of matt so you weren’t blocked by him. nick had angled the camera high to get all 4 of you in the photo, you heard the click and saw the flash go off.

“fuck y/n again you need to tiptoe or something bitch” you groan, this was the third photo already with only the top of your head showing. “no need to yell nick im right here, my ears are gonna melt off because of you” matt giggles at your response which also causes you to laugh along with him.

“can we hurry the fuck up before i start walking home i swear you guys are not funny” this leads to you, chris and matt to look at each other and laugh once more. “okay kid no need to throw a fit just come on” chris says motioning to the camera, same process again, only this time it was half of your face.

“there’s no way- im so done. matt get the car started im going home-“ your cut off by matt grabbing your wrist and dragging you back “nope sweetheart just one more, please?” he smiles and you groan rolling your eyes. “fine but what if w-“ you feel matts hands grasp onto your hips and lift you up a little “what the f- matt put me down” he laughs while tightening his grip.

“nick hurry up and take the picture come on” he says hurriedly, his touch tickling you, making you squirm and giggle, the flash goes off once again. “FINALLY.” nick yells “we finally have a decent picture, okay now we can go home” he bluntly says making his way towards the car, chris on the way right behind him.

“that was not funny matt, what if i fell?” you say, trying to straighten out your clothes from twisting and turning around in matts hold. “but you didn’t though baby, did you?” he grins while you roll your eyes at him in “annoyance”.

“yeah whatever matt” you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore when you felt his hand snake around your waist and pull you in closer, he looks down at you and smirks. his lips almost connecting with yours until you hear nick honk the horn. “can you guys hurry up?! im not trying to see you two make out 5 feet away from the car!”

you and matt burst into giggles “he just has to ruin everything, kids fucking annoying.” he grabs your hand and gives it a small kiss before making your way back to the car.

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

first blurb and idrk what this was.. i was bored and wanted to write it sigh. THIS WAS A PROMPT AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT WHERE I FOUND ITT 💔💔. ugh anyways i also know this is sorta unrealistic because the triplets are lowkey short kings.. BUT THAT DOESNT MATTER, bye love youu ᥫ᭡.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi berri bbs, can I request a small thing of sylus. Where mc goes to the n109 zone after the caleb plot and just takes a shower in sylus room and wears his top pjs and sleeps on his spot, all while being quiet because he's not there yet and he comes home and finds her like that.

hihi!! im not sure how caleb plays into this request but im gonna maybe think its bc like. youre a little shaken after the experience in skyhaven? so im gonna have it be kinda like, reader is just kinda trying to process everything that happened but not explicitly mention to sylus it's because of caleb quite yet/mention what caleb's become?? idk lol so it just became more. gen comf

You've never had a habit of announcing yourself whenever you come to visit but you'd at least shoot him a text after he was notified either through a surveillance camera in his home, Mephisto, or one of the twins after you greeted him. However, this time all he got was the notification that you used the key he gave you. He watches on his phone as you make your way through the house to his bedroom, ducking into the bathroom.

He can tell by the way you're carrying yourself that something bad happened but he doesn't know how to respond, not right away at least as he's busy. He also knows that if he cuts the mission short just to be with you you'd be mad at him for abandoning "something important" and the best way to optimise his time with you and the ability to talk to you would be to just get his work done. So he does.

He resists the urge to watch you through the cameras some more as you've expressed wanting your privacy even if you are in his home so he just speeds back on his motorcycle (safely, of course). He doesn't usually have a habit of just ditching his things at the door but he does today because the sooner he can get to you, the better.

His heart melts when he sees how comfortable you look, despite the furrowed brows. He gently comes to your side, lifting the blanket to see a set of his pajamas on your form. He gently runs a hand along the side of your body, the silk doing nothing to hide the warmth of you from his palm. He leans over and gives you a kiss to your forehead, wanting to slide into bed next to you but also know he should get changed first.

After showering and changing, he's sure to give a couple of spritzes of your favourite cologne on him before pulling you into his arms. You bury your face into his chest, letting his presence soak into your tired bones as the scrunch on your face finally dissipates. He won't ask anything of it right now but you did tell him you'd be on a business trip for a while and he assumes the trip didn't go as well as you were hoping it would.

When the two of you wake up in the morning he'll insist on a slow day, ignoring his schedule just to provide you some more comfort. You don't really end up telling him what the problem is but he doesn't care - he just wants to be there for you right now, distracting you from the turmoil as he spoils you with his attention.

[amsznn]

can you do dad matt and chris's different reactions to their daughter getting her first period while her mom wasn't home 😭😂 (i also really love your writing your amazing 💗🫂)

GROWING UP - c. and m. sturniolo

chris:

chris’ afternoon had been going smoothly. he lightly plopped onto the living room couch, ready to relax for the next couple of hours.

you had left to work on some brand deals with your team, leaving him to tend with your two daughters.

luckily for him your youngest had dance practice so he would only have to pick her up in a couple of hours. And your eldest was in her room, finishing up her homework.

everything had been normal when she came home. she greeted chris as per usual and rambled on about her day, which chris always listened intently to. then she finished the snack chris had prepared for her before she came home. Finally she thanked her dad and went to her room.

so imagine chris’ confusion as to when he heard blood curdling screams coming from his daughter’s room.

mid movie, chris jumped up and ran upstairs. of course he didnt want to barge in so he hurriedly knocked.

“honey? you okay?” he asked with worry. he could hear the light sobs of your daughter through the door and swung it open.

“dad, can you call mom?” your daughter asked through broken sobs. chris of course whipped out his phone and without a thought dialed your number.

as he approached further he could see the light patch of blood on the girls bed and put two and two together.

chris was still trying to find the right words to comfort his daughter and unfortunately you weren’t answering.

“hey, theres no need to cry, here.” chris said has he jumbled up the sheets and placed them in the laundry basket.

“your mom told you all about this before right?” he asked as she nodded. “so why dont you go clean up and ill get of some ice cream?” your daughter wiped away her tears and smiled.

chris gave her a light peck on the head and went to go wash the sheets.

in the end your daughter calmed down with the help of your husband (and ice cream), and you were in for a story when you came back home.

matt:

matt’s experience was similar to chris’, except his daughter was way more calm about it.

it was just a regular weekend afternoon and you had gone to brunch with your friends, leaving matt and your daughter at the house.

matt and your daughter had decided to spend some time together. playing board games, eating food they baked, and watching some movies.

it was on their second movie when your daughter had gotten up to use the bathroom. matt had taken this opportunity to send you a few texts since your daughter had a strict ‘no phones when watching movies’ rules. he stopped texting when he heard a faint

“daaad..”

“yes..?” he answered a bit confused. but he got up anyways and made his way towards the bathroom

“do you know where mom keeps the pads?” his daughter asked and honestly, it took him a minute to process what was happening. of course he didnt want to freak her out even more.

“uh- yeah, theyre in the bin on the rack.” he said with a cough, dialing your number in the process. lets just say, you were speeding home to give your daughter some emotional support.

-

a/n: sorry for any requests that havent been submitted, im gonna go through all them pretty soon once i have the time!

[heartsforkatsuki]

rude.  ｡°✩ e. kirishima

pov ; your dad won’t give ur boyfriend of 8 years his blessing

pairing: eijiro kirishima x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, marriage, swearing, yearning lovesick kirishima!!!

word count: ~1.9k. song; rude by magic!

kirishima had fallen in love with you at first sight.

the minute he saw you in the entrance exams, he prayed you’d both get in together. he came up to you and wished you a very manly , loud, “good luck!!” with a hand on his hip and his other in a thumbs up.

you’d found it weird at first, and returned his enthusiasm with an awkward “thank you..?” and walked away.

now, 11 years later, looking back, you find it endearing, and can’t believe how long it took you to end up where you are now.

the minute he heard you woke up after the war, kirishima ran to your room and hugged you. not even 2 seconds before you could process him, he asked you to be his girlfriend and explained how he felt about you all along.

“[name], i’m so inlove with you. i have been since the entrance exams. i’ve been keeping that from you for three years.. so sorry. that wasn’t cool of me. i really, really hope you feeling the same way ‘cause if you don’t, i’ll bet i look pretty stupid right now.. you’re just so.. beautiful and captivating .. and strong. so strong.. and really cool just.. all around. what i’m trying to say is.. will you be my girlfriend? please? oh! dang, and i’m so so glad you’re okay! i should’ve started with that.. dang it.“

he said everything so rushed, you just sat there in your hospital bed blinking at him.

“i.. what?”

“its okay if you don’t feel the sa-“

you finally processed it all.

“no, no! i do! im sorry, it took me a minute to process.”

he rubbed the back of his head, looking at the floor. the tips of his ears were turning the same color as his hair now.

it was adorable.

“so…?”

“yes! yes, i’ll be your girlfriend!”

now, 8 years later, you’re still together and more in love than ever. you’ve succeeded at acquiring your dream job, and your boyfriend has been climbing up the hero rankings, sitting at #12! what could be better than this? there’s one problem though.. what’s been taking him so long to make you his forever?

it was approximately 8AM, you woke up to a message from your boyfriend saying he left early for work.

you sighed, reading through the text.

goodmorning, babe! if you’re reading this it’s cause you’re awake, which means you should have (hopefully) noticed your amazing, radical, the manliest of them all boyfriend is infact not laying down next to you! (that’s me btw) i had to go to work early babes, i’ll be home later! i love you baba girl😘😍😍!

you chuckled, texted back a heart and an okay , be safe before you went to check the calendar.

it was saturday.

eijiro almost never, ever worked on saturdays unless there was an emergency. he wouldn’t even check in at the agency.

so of course, the first thing you did was check the news.

nothing really, just small criminals and no big villains. what could he possibly be doing?

so the next thing you did was check his location. not because you’re crazy, but you were genuinely worried. you never ever checked his location, you didn’t need to. but he insisted to give you it just in case, so you never had to doubt.

currently, he was on super close to Osaka, and it said he’d been driving there for about two hours now.

Osaka? What the hell is in Osa…

your parents. your parents lived in Osaka, nobody else you guys knew lived there. when you saw exactly where he was, you saw he was literally pulling up on your parent’s street.

what the hell?

eijiro pulled up in the driveway to your parents house, his palms clammy on the steering wheel.

he’d been thinking about doing this for a while now, but he knew just how your dad felt about him.

your dad was a very old-fashioned man, didn’t exactly love the idea of you dating, much less marrying, a hero.

he didn’t want there to be an accident, only to end up with a depressed, grieving, hurt daughter.

and he made sure you knew it.

“he’s gonna do something stupid one day, [name], and then you’ll regret it.“

you’d always ignored him, and eijiro was forever grateful.

he tried as hard as he could to change your dad’s views on heroes, explaining how passionate he was, and why he decided on it in the first place.

he never really budged though.

now, kirishima was standing at your parents’ doorstep at 8am on a saturday morning, in his best suit, tailored just for this moment, and a big bouquet for your mom.

he brushed his hands on his dress pants and pushed the doorbell button.

he stood there for a minute looking at his shoes, until he heard the lock turn.

when he looked up, he was met with your dad’s resting bitch face. except now it was ten times worse, seeing as it was 8 in the morning.

“ah.. goodmorning, mr. [surname].”

“eijiro? it’s 8am.” your dad crossed his arms, spreading his feet.

“i know.” he lifted his hand, handing the flowers over to your father. “those are for mrs. [surname].”

“thank you? why are you here, young man?” he scowled.

“i came because i wanted to ask you.. for your blessing.” he rubbed the back of his neck, “to marry [name].”

“i love your daughter more than anything, and i’ve kept her waiting for 8 years now. i’ve been inlove with her for 11 years now, and i want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

your dad scoffed to that, “which i’m sure won’t be long, eijiro. your job is gonna end up with my daughter heartbroken.”

“sir, please, i’m safe! i love your daughter, plea—”

“over my dead body. no. until i die, you aren’t marrying my daughter.” he slammed the door in front of eijiro.

“fuck..” he sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking back to his car.

“I just don’t get why he’s so rude to me.” kirishima groaned, placing his beer on the table infront of him.

“he’s just an asshole dude, ignore him.” bakugo responded, rolling his eyes.

“hey! that’s my future father in law you’re talking about.” he whined, taking a swig of beer.

“he won’t be if you keep paying attention to the bullshit he’s spouting.” the blonde picked up his own beer, drinking it.

“dude, i’m gonna marry her anyways.. i just need to convince him.” kirishima insisted, his hands balling into fists.

the week after that, kirishima did the same thing as he did that last saturday morning, he bought a brand new suit and showed up with an bigger bouquet.

the door creaked open, and he made sure to get the first word in

“can i have your daughter for the rest of my life? please. i love her, i can provide for her as i always have, and i’ll give my life to make her happy.”

he prayed your father would say yes, chanting it in his head.

“no.” he slammed the door, again.

“hey babe, why does your dad hate me so much?”

it was now two weeks after the first visit, and you hadn’t asked him about why he went to go see your parents yet.

“he doesn’t hate you…” you curled on the couched next to him, stroking his hair, “he’s just looking out for me, babe.”

“why does he have to hate me in order to look out for you?” he pouted.

“he doesn’t hate you babe!”

the following week, he repeated his attempts.

another new suit, and a bigger bouquet. he stood at the door, determined to walk away with your fathers blessing this time.

one thing changed though, this time your father didnt open the door, your mom did.

“Oh. goodmorning, mrs. [surname]. how are you?” he asked, lifting the bouquet to her.

“goodmorning, eijiro. i’m well, thank you for asking, and for the flowers dear.” she smiled.

“is mr. [surname] home?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants again.

“yes, he is. let me get him for you.”

she stepped away from the door, and soon, your dad appeared. his expression was unreadable this time.

“you again?” he grunted.

“yes, sir. i know you’ve said no—three times now—but i love your daughter. i’m going to marry her. with or without your blessing… but i’d rather it be with.”

your father stayed silent.

“i’ve never loved anyone the way i love her. she’s the first and only person i’ve ever truly wanted to build a future with. i want to wake up next to her every morning. i want to take care of her, support her, grow old with her. and i promise you, with everything i have, i’ll protect her.”

your dad sighed, long and heavy.

“…you’re a persistent little bastard, huh?”

kirishima swallowed, “only for her, sir.”

your father stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside.

“come in.”

kirishima blinked, stunned. “w-what?”

“you heard me. come in.”

he followed him inside, nervous and stiff as a board.

they talked for over an hour. about life, about you, about the future. your father asked hard questions, challenged him, and at one point even asked if he was truly willing to give up being a hero someday if it came down to choosing between his life or yours.

without hesitation, kirishima answered, “i’d choose her. every time.”

eventually, your dad nodded slowly and let out another sigh.

“…fine. you have my blessing.”

kirishima nearly collapsed from relief.

“but you better not make her cry. not once. or i swear—”

“never, sir. never.”

a few days later, you came home to find a trail of glowing red petals leading to your backyard. confused, you followed them.

and there he was.

in a perfectly fitted black suit, holding a small, red velvet box in his hand, his other hand tucked nervously into his pocket.

the yard was lit up with fairy lights, and small candles floated in a heart-shaped pond he’d made with some help.

“[name],” he said, voice cracking just a little, “i’ve loved you since the day i met you. you’re everything to me. my best friend, my strength, my peace. i want to spend every second of my life making you feel as loved as you make me feel.”

he got down on one knee.

“will you marry me?”

you cried. of course you did.

dang it, he already messed up the first rule.

but you said yes so fast, he didn’t even finish opening the box before you tackled him with a hug.

later that night, you sat together under the stars, your head on his shoulder, your hand in his—now with a sparkling ring on it.

“so,” you whispered, “what changed my dad’s mind?”

he smiled and kissed your forehead. “i just told him the truth. and refused to leave until he believed it.”

you giggled. “you’re so stubborn.”

“only for you, babe.”

[kuronarnze]

Hello i was the anon who asked bllk boys with horrible chef reader and i loved it ❤️

May i request bllk boys of your decision with a reader who was their childhood friend and she used to be child actress but now she is singer and performs a song on stage but it’s confession song for boys secretly 😊

a/n: hihiii omg your requests are always super duper creative + cute, TYSM FOR REQUESTINGA AGAIN, im so happy you enjoyed the other headcannons i madee, enjoyy!

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

When you confess your feelings into a song for the bluelock boys !

ft. Isagi yoichi, Itoshi sae, Itoshi rin, Shidou ryusei, Michael kaiser, Mikage reo

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You were once a famous child actress, but now you're a talented singer. Your latest performance? A beautifully written love song, secretly meant for the boy you grew up with.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Isagi Yoichi

- He’s so proud just being in the audience. He’s been your #1 fan since the start.

- When you step on stage, he smiles fondly, whispering, “She made it…” under his breath.

- The moment your lyrics start describing a boy with kind blue eyes who always believed in you—he freezes.

- Realization hits hard. Wait… is this about him?

- By the second chorus, he’s 100% sure. The memories you reference—the soccer field, childhood promises, warm bento boxes—it's all him.

- Stares in shock, hand over his mouth like he’s processing a whole anime plot twist.

- After the show:

“...Was that song... for me?”

And when you nod, he just pulls you into a tight hug, heart racing.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Itoshi Sae

- He doesn’t show it, but he’s genuinely curious to see how you’ve changed since your actress days.

- When you step out, confident and graceful, he raises an eyebrow, surprised by how much you've grown.

- Then your lyrics start:

- “You never smiled much, but your silence said everything.”

- His heart stutters. He knows that version of him. You’re singing about his 12-year-old self.

- The lines about "watching from the shadows, waiting for a dream to catch fire" hit too close to home.

- He sits quietly, stunned. His fingers clench on his seat.

- Sae.exe has stopped working.

- Afterward:

“...You wrote that for me, didn’t you.”

When you smile and nod, his ears go pink. He mumbles: “Took you long enough.”

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Itoshi Rin

- He acts like he doesn’t care when you invite him. “Tch. Whatever. Do what you want.”

- But he shows up in a hoodie and cap, standing near the back of the venue. Watching.

- The lyrics talk about a boy who “hid his heart behind shadows and thorns, but never once hurt me.” “hard on the outside, soft in the inside.”

- Rin’s breath catches.

- It’s him. You’re singing about the younger him, the one he thought no one ever understood.

- You sing about the day he cried and thought no one noticed—but you did.

- Rin looks away, blinking hard.

- After the show:

“...You remembered all that?”

And when you nod, he looks down.

“Then I hope you’re ready… 'cause I’m not letting you go again.”

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Shidou Ryusei

- He’s annoyingly loud in the audience. “WOOO!! THAT’S MY GIRL!!!”

- But the second you start singing, he quiets down—because this is different.

- The song is raw, honest, vulnerable. Lyrics about “a boy too wild for the world, but never too wild for me.”

- Shidou goes still.

- His mind goes back to your childhood—when he got into fights and you always stood by him.

- His smirk fades. There’s a softness in his gaze no one ever sees.

- After the show, he corners you backstage:

“That song was about me, huh?”

You blink. He grins, wild but… warm.

“Finally caught me, huh, superstar?”

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Michael Kaiser

- He shows up in VIP, smug and sparkly. “Of course I came. It’s me, after all.”

- But when you take the mic, and the spotlight hits you, he leans forward. You look like magic.

- Your song speaks of “a golden boy who demanded the world but only ever wanted to be loved.”

- His cocky grin falters.

- The lyrics are too specific. The snow in Germany. The time he almost gave up but you called him your star.

- You sang about how the two would eat bread crust rusk, sometimes adore the stray dogs, and you would talk for hours and Kaiser would always listen.

- Kaiser is speechless for once. Literally no one has ever written something that… real about him.

- After the concert:

“You sang about me... and I can’t even outshine that.”

He pulls you into a half-joking bow.

“I surrender, meine Königin. Take my heart. You already stole the spotlight.”

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Mikage Reo

- Reo’s practically glowing when he arrives. “My best girl’s gonna perform? Front row seats, obviously.”

- He's clapping, recording—supportive energy even before the confession.

- The lyrics mention “a boy born with everything but looked at me like I was the treasure.”

- Reo chokes. Literally.

- The memories you paint—playgrounds, sweets he bought you, how he promised to build you a castle if you became famous.

- He’s tearing up by the bridge.

- After the performance:

“Tell me that was about me.”

You giggle and confirm it.

He hugs you so tight you nearly drop your mic.

“Then I’m building you that castle. And putting a studio inside.”

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

TYSM FOR READINGG plsplspls feel free to requesttt, i was kinda having a hard time writing for shidou's cause we don't really know much about his childhood (WE NEED SHIDOU BACKSTORY !!)

have a nice day (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

[jyoongim]

Anon requested: “Alastor X OC Smut where the reader is Lucifers daughter Charlie's twin he hears she is set to marry a hellborn demon but he doesn't want to give her up so he offers her his completel love and devotion for her soul but she says he already has it, they mate in his demonic form and he impregnates and marks her as his mate sealing the deal so when her father comes to take her away he finds she is carrying Alastor's twin fawns….”

@ohmylovewhereartthou-blog i had so much fun writing this!!!

(I shortened the request because of details)

themes: arranged marriage, slight breeding kink, creampie, cervix touching, stomach bulge, magic, possessive/jealous behavior, rough sex, degradation, praise, happy ending

~ reader will be called “princess/baby/ma cherie/dear/darling/ angel~

Morningstar!Reader x Alastor

—————————————————————————————————

You were the King of Hell’s treasure.

You were the older twin to Charlie Morningstar.

Because you were the firstborn Princess of Hell, your father had arranged that you would marry and begin the process of becoming the next ruler of Hell.

“What?” You asked confused looking at your father, not sure you had heard him right.

Lucifer cleared his throat and had a big smile on his face.

”I have finally found a respectful hellborn for you angel. A Goetia prince. Hes perfect for you and would make an excellent partner”

Marriage? 

“But Daddy I-” you started, but Lucifer interrupted you 

“No but’s it took me a longtime to find someone who I thought would be a good match for you. This is good! I already have everything arranged and it has been set. As the Princess of Hell you will begin your royal duties officially”

Charlie took your hand as you felt your anger rise. Being the kind soul she was, she tried to intervene

”Dad sis is already in a relationship. She can’t just give that up. She’s in love” your twin gushed.

Lucifer grimaced at the mention of your significant other.

”Yes Alastor was it? Hmm well I advise you make peace with him and end it.”

You felt tears pool in your eyes. Give up your love? This was so unfair!

“I will grant you six months. One year to make your peace with the bellhop and then you’re coming home. Understood?”

You nodded sadly as you stood and bowed “Yes father”

You watched as he opened a portal and disappeared, leaving you and Charlie.

Charlie turned to you “Hey Im sure if you explain to this prince your situation that he will understand” Oh sweet Charlie. So naive.

You shook your head “You dont understand Charlie. I have a duty to uphold. I am the Heir to the throne and I must obey our father’s wish. As ordered by the King”

You stood up and went to your room, where you cried yourself to sleep.

—————————————————————————————

Hell was in a frenzy at the announcement of your upcoming engagement. 

It wasn’t everyday that hellish royalty was getting married.

 It was the talk in all the rings of Hell.

And soon word reached back to the Radio Demon.

You and Alastor had been going steady for a while. It was actually your twin who encouraged you two to be together since Alastor had made it known he had fancied you when you came to the hotel to help your sister.

You never imagined you would be head over heels for the red demon, but satan did you love him.

Alastor adored you. Worshiped the ground you walked on and treated you with the upmost respect.

There was no way you could just break up with him to…to marry a stranger!

You had always thought you would marry Alastor. But maybe that was just a dream….

”The realm is buzzing with excitement. Never thought your father would disapprove of our union so much” Alastor chuckled.

He had brought you out on a date, to distract you from all the fuss.

It was just you and him. Just as it had always been.

You stiffened. You hadnt had the heart to tell Alastor of your father’s decision. You just wanted to enjoy these moments while they lasted.

You sighed, poking your food “Are you upset?” You asked softly, peeking at him through your eyelashes.

Alastor smiled, “Well you are the princess my dear. Im not upset. Ill love you even if you decide to go through with this whole engagement haha but I hadnt added a prince to my broadcast yet” he giggled, making you smile.

Oh how you loved his bloodlust.

”j-just…I mean I haven’t even met this guy and daddy just wants to ship me off to the highest bidder. There hasn’t been any need for him to even think of marriage. Hes not dying. There’s no need for me to marry. I dont want marry a stranger…I want to marry you”

”Oh my dear at least let me be the one to propose” he joked.

He grabbed your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb “Dont worry dearest. I wont let anyone take you from me”

————————————————————————————-

The hotel was quiet when you two came back.

You had indulge in drinks to rid your mind of your impending doom.

Alastor brought you to his room and you made yourself comfortable.

Like any date, you hoped to lose yourself in pleasure at the end.

You stripped yourself of your pantsuit, leaving you in your lingerie.

Alastor’s colors.

”Red is such a lovely color on you” He whispered, coming behind you, pressing soft kisses on your shoulders. You hummed happily, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. You were blessed with your mother’s height so your breasts were hugged against his face.

”I can give you anything you desire ma cherie. Say the word and its yours. Ill burn Hell if you say to. I am at your complete disposal” He peppered your chest in kisses, softly nipping at the tops of your breasts.

You leaned his face up to yours and pressed your lips against his, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

”make me forget all my problems. Fuck me like the slut I am and not a princess. I wanna be yours completely, like we have forever” you whispered against his lips.

Alastor grinned as he retreated from your lips, trailing a hand into your thick locks and gripping tight, the other toying with your panties.

”Your wish is my command”

—————————————————————————————

“F-fuck! Please please” you whined, as Alastor pounded into you.

Your claws ripped through the bedding as your body jolted along the sheets. Your body was going haywire.

How many times had he brought you to orgasm?

You had lost count.

Your body was sticky with sweat and your cunt clenched around his cock.

Alastor tugged your hair, pulling your head back. He let out a growl when he saw how fucked out you were.

Your face was flushed, your tongue lulled and you were panting.

So beautiful.

”A-Al!” You cried when he gave you a harsh thrust. He chuckled “what is doll? C’mon use your words”

words? What were words? You could barely think!

He leaned over you, never breaking his pace ”what a pretty slut. To think another demon is to fuck my cunt. No that wont do. Your cunt is mine and I wont let another have the pleasure to carve it. You always take me so well baby. What’d you think dear?”

You let out senseless babble as your cunt fluttered.

Your cunt let out a squelch as he pulled out. Alastor’s cock was coated in creamy slick. You whined, pushing your hips back to try and have him fill you again “No no no gimme-”

Alastor sucked his teeth at you, smirking “oh? You want my cock? How bad you want it hmmm? Soon it wont be me feeding you cock every night” he slapped his tip against your slit. You moaned, wiggling your hips. You pouted “I dont want another cock Al! I-I want yours! Only yours please” 

He released your head,making you fall forward. You spreaded your thighs and leaned back on your knees as you dipped your hand to your dripping cunt.

You looked over your shoulder at him as you toyed with your puffy clit. Your lips jutted out in a pout “p-play with me. I want it! I want your cock so bad. Please please fill me up. I want your cock to be the only thing to fuck me ah!  Alastor!” You felt that band of tingles form ready to release.

But you couldnt cum. Not without Alastor.

He knew your body better than you did.

Alastor slapped your hand away, having mercy on you.

”The pretty princess can’t cum can she?” You whimpered as he chuckled, sliding his cock against you.

Alastor felt that familiar burn in the pit of his stomach. 

Possessiveness. Jealousy.

He rarely had the urge to fuck you into submission.

“Fill you? Oh baby when I’m done with you you’ll be dripping with my cum.” He let out a dark laugh as his body morphed.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you watch Alastor transform into his demon form.

”roll over” his tone was dark and sharp, leaving no room for debate.

You rolled onto your back obediently, spreading your thighs and bringing your hand back to your clit.

You moaned softly as you rubbed tight circles on your bud.

Large clawed hands massaged your plush thighs.

His bright eyes focused on your fingers.

His chest rumbled as he lowered his head to your cunt, nipping at your fingers. “This cunt is mine. My cock is yours. You think some prince can fuck you half as good as me? Oh no. Not the cunt I worked so hard to carve into.” He licked at your clit, dipping his tongue into your tight hole.

”My personal royal fucktoy that’s what you are doll.” 

You moaned softly at the degradation, rolling your hips against his face.

Satan he knew how to get you going. Alastor’s demon form was terrifying to most, but you found it hot that you made the Radio Demon lost himself to the point he could let loose.

Static buzzed your skin as Alastor ate you as if meaning to devour you whole. Alastor released your clit with a pop, opting to nuzzle the pearl before hooking a hand under your knee, lifting it to your chest, opening you up.

Alastor leaned up, wedging himself between your thighs. Your eyes drifted to his cock.

Youve fucked the red demon in his demonic form before, but it never ceased to amaze you the sheer size of him.

You felt your body heat up as your own demonic form came to the forefront, wanting to accommodate the male on top of you.

Beautiful vermillion horns sprouted from your hair as your eyes turned red and sharp. Your spiky tail swished, hitting Alastor slightly making him narrow his eyes at your playfulness.

You were so pretty.

Alastor leaned his head down, neck cracking to nudge your face, nose taking in your scent and sharp teeth nipping at you. Your dainty claws found purchase in his fluffy locks, making way to paw at the massive antlers sitting on his head.

A soft gasp escaped you when you felt his heavy cock press against you.

 Your eyes met his. 

Red dials simmered with desire, but you could see the love he held for you, even like this.

Alastor would do anything for you.

Were you to really turn your back on a man who would carve his heart out if you asked?

You pushed yourself up against him, affectionately kissing his neck and shoulder, scraping your sharp teeth against his skin.

“I love you Alastor” you whispered, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit this suddenly.

You and Alastor never expressed how the two of you felt with words. Actions were more appreciated, but you felt like you should at least tell him once.

He chuckled slightly “No need for such a declaration my dear. Youve had my heart and soul since the moment I saw you. You have my utter devotion.”

He purred. Your eyes widened as a thought popped into your head.

Soul?

Alastor has given you everything of his without even a contract.

His love.

His heart.

His soul.

They were all yours willingly.

”Make a deal with me”

Green magic swirled at your words and Alastor’s cock twitched, he growled lowly “Careful with what you ask dear”

You ignored him. Your hand drifted between you and you gasped as you slid his cock into you, making the demon let out a room-shaking growl.

A surge of magic washed over you and you watched as the glittery glow seeped into Alastor’s skin.

A full thrust had you taking him to the hilt, balls flushed against your ass.

Alastor bared his teeth at you, his tongue licking your cheek.

”My heart and soul…I give it to you” at your words he snapped his hips against yours.

”My complete devotion and love will never waver, for i chose this of my own free will”

Your claws hand sunk into his back, you were trying to focus.

”As a princess of hell and heir to the throne, I grant you any desire you wish…Ah!…”

A soft golden glitter mixed with the green magic, popping noises filling the room.

Alastor's hand was around your throat, holding you into the bedding as his cock pounded that sweet spot inside you.

The hand holding your thigh, was damn near pushing it to be beside your head, opening your cunt to his merciless pounding.

”Al!” You cried.

”You” he hissed lowly, you almost missed it up.

”I want you. I want you to be my mate, as you should be. I want to see you swollen with my seed, ma cherie. To be properly mine and claimed.”

Your magic surged and Alastor’s hips faltered when he felt your cunt fluttered and squeeze around him.

He felt the warmth of your magic in him and moaned as he pushed into you.

“You’re gonna let me fuck a spawn into you? Gonna let me ruin this royal womb? Oh what a treat you would be, a hellish princess carrying the Radio Demon’s spawn oh hoo ”

He crackled as you arched, mewling as his pace grew harsh.

”O-oh fuck! Fuckfuck! ah ah AH ha a-a-h Al!”

A red mark graced your lower belly, the royal seal.

It prevents you from being impregnated.

But with each drag of Alastor’s cock and magic, you watched as pieces disappeared.

“C’mon baby loosen up. I wanna make sure you take all my cum. Dont want a single drop wasted”

He rolled over, catching you off guard. You blinked down at him as you sunk down onto him.

He shot you wicked smile, fluff wild “Just wanna see when you fall apart on my cock”

He thrusted up and you keened, bracing yourself against his chest.

You were gorgeous as you rode the demon. Red horns like a crown as you threw your head back in pleasure.

Alastor wrapped your tail around his arm and growled when you pushed down on him.

Whipped cream gathered at his as you dragged your walls over him, throwing your assinto his thrusts

 ”pretty pretty princess. Such a slutty pussy that wants to be filled. that’s a good girl, you take my cock so well doll. You want my cum?”

You whimpered, nodding “yes yes yes please cum in me. Breed me. O-Oh ha! Al! Let me have your babies please OH fuuuuuccckkk I want it I want it so bad.” Your claws played with your clit, making your orgasm buzzed, golden magic sparking.

You let out a sharp cry as your back arched. Alastor dug his claws in your hips and pounded you out until his cock twitched and the mark on your belly melted away.

Your cunt squelched and your back burned.

”Fuck fuck fuck!”

Alastor growled as his cock dumped his cum inside you.

You crashed against Alastor’s chest, large wings erupting from your back, shielding the two of you in a cocoon.

You tried to move your hips, but Alastor held you fast as rope after rope of creamy spunk painted your walls.

He had returned back to semi-normal. He pressed a kiss to your forehead “Fuck darlin such a good girl.”

You purred as you changed back.

You ran a hand over your belly, blinking to find it was bulging softly.Alastor chuckled “Seems I might have overdid it just a bit”

You nuzzled into his neck “Mhmm not quite…” you sunk your fangs into his neck, making the demon hiss and bite into your shoulder.

You gasped as you felt the last restraint snap and his cum flood your womb, you wiggled your hips, milking his cock.

Alastor let out a hum “ So perfect and all mine.”

You giggled sleepily. “hmmm.”

Your soft snores filled the room.

Alastor’s ears flicked as he watch little flecks of magic danced around the two of you.

He felt kind of bad for having you cockwarm him so he slid himself out. The magic swirled around your womb, sinking into your skin. He watched in wonder as your bulge slowly went down and a soft glow shone where your mark was.

Wonder what that was about?

————————————————————————————

“Oh my gosh! Look at you! Your horns! You look like mom. Oh Satan Dad’s gonna flip” Charlie said as she pressed her hands against your swollen belly.

You chuckled at your sister. You could handle your father.

The hotel was shocked when you had announced you and Alastor were having babies.

yes.you heard right.

 Babies.

 Two!

Twins.

Alastor couldn't be more smug when the two of you walked around the city. He was very entertained by the whispers and stares that were thrown around.

The Princess of Hell was having the Radio Demon’s spawns.

Isnt the Princess engaged?

How dare he?

How is the king gonna react?

This will bring shame to the realm!

You were six months and soon your father will be coming to take you to meet your ‘betrothed.’

—————————————————————————————

Your tail swished in annoyance as you crossed your arms, staring at your father.

The Goetia Prince looked between you and Alastor nervously, Alastor flashing him a sharp smile as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Your father was seething.

Horns standing tall, eyes red, a ball of fire raging, wings and tail out, and ahh the seraphim eyes.

Daddy was piiiissssed.

And you didnt care.

”what the actual FUCK?!” He bellowed, eyes narrowing on Alastor.

”YOU DARE SPAWN WITH MY DAUGHTER?!”

Alastor hugged you into his side, grinning like a little shit as his hand caressed your swollen belly.

“She was quite adamant Your Majesty. Who am I to disobey my Princess?” His grin had flames pooling from your father’s palms.

You cleared your throat, addressing the Goetia “You can go back home. The marriage is off” the demon blinked and looked to your father. 

“Angel you dont understand-”

”No daddy you don’t understand! If you can be casted from Heaven for love, why can’t I rule Hell with mine?”

Lucifer faltered, eyes dimming.

He watched as Alastor comforted you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He looked at you the way Lucifer looks at your mother.

With complete and utter love, adoration,and devotion.

His eyes drifted to your stomach.

You were pregnant and happy.

Lucifer sighed and approached you, making your horns curl in warning.

Lucifer looked at you.

You looked just like Lilith. You were happy and so in love.

He sighed seeing the ring on your finger.

He wondered where you got that stubbornness from?

your mother no doubt

”Fine fine” he sighed, making you calm down.

”I am to be a grandpa it seems! I-I can’t wait.” He smiled at you making you smile back.

”What am I suppose to tell my father?!” Oh he was still there?

Lucifer blinked in confusion and shrugged “Im sure he can overlook this mishap”

”Mishap? Mishap?! Your daughter is a whore! A mockery of He-AAAAHHHHH!”

You smiled happily as Alastor let out a burp “Thank you Al”

He kissed your cheek “No one will insult you in my presence. His screams were exquisite”

Lucifer cleared his throat as the two of you made heart eyes at each other. “Sooooo twin spawns? Yippee”

You laughed rubbing your belly “Things are gonna get busier around here.”

————————————————————————————-

Alastor leaned down to kiss your forehead, looking at the bundle in his arms.

”You did wonderful my love”

You hummed as you rocked the other bundle.

”YOURE OKAY! I was so worried. You were screaming and then we heard nothing” Your sister cried bursting into the room, Lucifer entering behind her.  You smiled at your twin’s rambling. Charlie fretted over you before settling on the bundle in your arms.

She squealed “Are they-?”

”Met the newest additions to the family”

You had given birth to twins. 

A boy and a girl.

You were holding your baby boy, cooing at the babe who looked at you curiously.

Baby boy was the splitting image of his father, except he had your rosy cheeks and and cute nose.

 Baby girl took all after you. Pale skin, rosy cheeks, tuffs of blonde hair and little wings tucked and curled.

Alastor nuzzled your mini version.

“What you gonna name them?” Charlie asked cooing at the babies.

You turned to your father “Alastor and I thought it would be best if you name them dad. You know the whole angelic thing” you smiled.

Your father’s lips wobbled at your words.

Alastor handed you your daughter and you adjusted both fawns in your arms.

Your father placed his hands over them and a soft golden glow appeared. 

“The Son of the Morningstar shall be called Abaddon”

Your son giggled as magic danced around him, red eyes glimmering in delight.

You placed a soft kiss on the boy’s fluff and handed him to his father.

”A Daughter of the Morningstar shall be named Azrael”

You snuggled the fussy girl who calmed at your touch.

”The blood of the Morningstar shall be blessed as long as the eternal flame blazes. Amen”

You smiled and let out a tired yawn.

”Alright I think that’s enough excitement for one night.” Alastor rushed Charlie and Lucifer out so you and the babies could rest.

Alastor slid beside you on the bed and used his tentacles to put the twins to sleep.

You leaned against his chest, eyes heavy as you smiled up at him.

”was this everything you envisioned?”

Alastor grinned down at you, before taking a long look at his fawns, he looked back at you and hooked a finger under your chin to capture your lips in a kiss.

”Hmmm its much better my dear. Much better”

[pearlzier]

︵︵ DAY TWO ﹐ OVERSTIMULATION ☆

ᰍִ ꒰ KINKTOBER. ִ✧ㅤㅤ masterlist

NOTES .ᐣ why do i do this to myself LMFAOO im far too busy to be doing kinktober but here we are..... ana makes a decision and regrets it immediately after :3 but haii chris is so fine

WARNINGS .ᐣ overstimulation. oral (f!recieving). dom!chris. sub!reader. afab!reader. breast play. use of pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, babe etc.)

"TASTE SO GOOD, BABY, FUCK," chris had practically been latched onto your cunt the moment he'd walked in and put his bags down—he'd barely given you time to process the fact he was back as he'd spread your legs wide and settled himself between within record time. god, he'd missed the taste of you, it'd been far too long away from it. sure, he missed the feeling of your cunt taking him so perfectly when he fucked you, or the warmth of your mouth when you suckd him off, but nothing compared to making you feel good like this with his head between your thighs.

his excuse was he'd been away from you with matt and nick for about a week. the two of you had obviously phoned, messaged, that kind of thing, but it wasn't enough. chris didn't go away much, he stayed at home more often than not, and being away from you? it took a lot out of him. so he was more than a little desperate to get his hands on you when he'd finally gotten back to the house. and now he was on you again? impossible to get him off.

"shit, chris," it's hard to talk with the rhythmic bumping of chris' nose against your clit, his tongue gliding through your wet folds and lapping up your juices as much as he possibly could. it's like he doesn't even need to breathe, it's insane. he hadn't gone up for air in.. what, a while? it felt like forever. especially for you, considering you're the one getting all the pleasure from it. judging from how he's humping the bed, however, maybe he's getting off on it too. "oh my god," you're lost for damn words.

"such a pretty pussy, mmh, missed this so bad," you're surprised he can talk as fluently as he is with his face pressed up against your warmth. "got withdrawal, y'know? can actually result in death if i don't eat you out at least once every few days," he was a fiend. absolutely obsessed with the taste of you and making you feel good. the death grip on your thighs tells you absolutely everything, this man is living his best life right there and he isn't moving. certified eater, whatever you wanted to call it, but he's between your thighs and you're just gonna have to suck it up and ride it out. "can you breathe?"

he lifts his head a little, "just fine, ma," before he starts kissing and sucking at your clit, completely flooring any plans you'd had of speaking with just a few suckles of his mouth. chris doesn't care about getting messy, how your juices trickle down his chin and the way his lips get a little puffy from working so hard, he'd do this over and over again just to see you happy. his soft moans send vibrations through you, starting at your clit in his mouth before running up your body in a burst of warmth.

it's when he starts circling your entrance with his fingers that you actually realise how long the two of you are gonna be here. you'd wondered whether this was just gonna be foreplay and he'd ease his cock inside of you soon enough but the introduction of his fingers met he was gonna be entertaining himself with you a lot longer than you'd thought. not that you mind, you're just as here for it as he is. "chris," you let out, a whiny sound, when he finally pushes his fingers into you with a little thrust forward.

he looks up at you, then, his blue eyes dilated to the point of being near black, all the while paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves whilst his fingers slowly ease inside of you. "so fuckin' wet, baby. all for me? shit, musta' missed me so much.." he's not even paying attention to how his fingers start to thrust in and out of you, it's all muscle memory by now. he's done this whole thing so many times with you he could do it with his eyes closed, with one hand, whatever you wanted.

"missed you so bad," you whisper, shamelessly sliding your hand upwards on your chest under your shirt to grasp your tit in your hand, rolling your fingers over your nipples as you knead the soft flesh. chris groans at the sight of that, only urging him to keep going. his fingers curl upwards towards that sweet spot inside you, brushing up against it and making the purposeful motion of rubbing against it with every movement. your fingers tighten around your nipples, and you cry out a soft sound, hips instinctively bucking towards his face.

"keep playing with your tits f'me, baby," chris mumbles into your pussy, his lips wet and slick with your arousal as he runs his tongue over you. "that's it.. makin' me jealous, honey, might have t'pay attention t'em in a second." you squeeze your breasts together, thumbs rolling over your hard buds and making your cunt pulse as chris continues eating you out. "m'gonna.." you could feel your orgasm hurtling itself towards you, not sneaking up on you, no, it wanted you to know it was coming. the wet squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of you, curled against your sweet spot, it makes your head spin.

"gonna come all over my face?" chris asks, only lapping at you in sloppier, messy motions. "gonna make a mess for me? go on then, sweetheart, there we go," he growls, and the vibrations manage to send you over the edge, your thighs trembling around his face and squeezing him there so he wouldn't move away. not that he'd dream of it, anyway, but just a precaution. "taste so good, soaking my face," you'd expect chris to move away from your oozing pussy once he'd helped you through your orgasm, but he's not deterred by suffocating in your juices, he only keeps going.

"chris, i—" you go to speak, to tell him you need a moment, but he gives you a tight squeeze of your ass and a few rougher pumps of his fingers to tell you that, well—"m'not finished, baby, so you gotta wait till m'done," he wasn't finished with you, there was no time to lose, he had to pull another orgasm out of you again, and again, and again. he was making up for his time away from you, after all. so, he kept going.

"too much, too.." you gasp, the familiar feeling of an orgasm building up once more. your head's spinning a little, fuzzy from your first climax blending into the upcoming second one. "you can give me another one, right, babe? c'mon, i ain't asking for much, just another one," he wants to feel your cunt twitch in his mouth, your sticky pussy against his face after coming for him a million times over. he's not asking for much, right? "gonna give me another one," he tells you, like he's already decided.

you're whining, bottom lip quivering as he continued his assault on your cunt. "feels too good, i can't.." you don't know whether you could take any more after this, coming a second time seemed like enough. you're subconsciously grinding yourself against his face, which makes chris smile. "sayin' you can't take anymore but you're fuckin' yourself on my face, huh? you lyin' to me?"

"not lying, no, no.. just.." another whine escapes you when he laughs, a mixture of embarrassment and the feel of the vibration causing you to let out that sweet sound. chris was relentless, he wouldn't stop until he had you trembling due to him once again. "s'gonna happen again, m'gonna come, shit, shit, shit—" his fingers curl further, and he starts to lick around your fluttering hole where his fingers are to get you over that edge once more.

"come for me, baby, there we go, wasn't hard, was it? you could take more. can take more," he rambles, moving away from you for a moment to give you some much needed reprieve. his tongue makes gentle circles against your inner thigh now, something to occupy him as your thighs shook and you recovered from your second orgasm within the span of a few minutes. but, he's not satisfied for long. "you ready?"

"ready for what..?" you ask, voice a little breathy and weak from how spent you were. your eyes meet his, hands grasping at your tits still almost in comfort, and chris scoffs quietly at your question as if it was dumb to ask. "you're gonna come on my tongue 'n' fingers again, and then m'gonna fuck you on my cock. so hold on tight, would you?"

yeah, you were gonna be here for a while.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @bbittenapples, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @fallbhind, @beausling, @eternaldecisions, @httqvi, @gibson-g1rl, @zayluvss, @angelssdreamss, @gxldenlush ִ ꒱

[sweetsbylia]

cruel world

pairing: finnick o’dair x district12!victor!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of: forced prostitution, violence, and death but not described, established relationship, kissing, pet names (sweetheart, love, honey etc.), one slightly dirty joke, other characters mentioned, usual thg stuff, set in catching fire

a/n: uhhhhh i’ve been writing this for two weeks now, just couldn’t get myself to finish it, it’s here now tho so enjoy!!! ALSO IM THINKING ABOUT MAKING THIS A SERIES WHAT DO WE SAY?? (divider by @dollywons)

word count: 4.6k

finnick o’dair thought that he will never feel worse than when he was reaped for his games, barely at fourteen years old having to fight for his life in an arena with twenty three other kids. when he won his games and had to live with the heavy weight of the lives he took or when he was being sold and used by the capitol ever since he was fifteen.

that all changed when finnick met her. the love of his life with the same fate. a victor that was desirable for capitol’s citizens. a big mistake. he felt horrible whenever she was pulled from his arms to be used by violent, greedy men.

the feeling that beat those was when the quarter quell was announced. finnick he was the only male victor in district four and when mags, his mentor, volunteered as tribute for his friend annie cresta it was even worse.

finnick put on the typical mask of arrogance and pride, smiling into the cameras while his eyes hid fear and worry, his mind begging for his girlfriend not to volunteer, as he watched the screen from the justice building in his district.

“as always ladies first.” effie said into the microphone, cameras pointing at her face as they finally streamed the last of the twelve district. it was different this time, sadder. everyone was confused, heartbroken and angry.

katniss’s name was called and before anyone had the time to process it, the only other remaining female victor immediately raised her hand.

“i volunteer.”

finnick’s vision went black, he suddenly felt nauseous and sick. he didn’t know if he wanted to strangle her or hold her and never let her go. probably both.

the train ride was a lot less calmer than two years ago, when you were reaped at sixteen years old, as a tribute for your district.

the setting was quite familiar, really, haymitch was trying to drink himself into oblivion as always, effie was speaking about manner and being a team, peeta was quiet probably bracing the probability of death more than last year and you were thinking about finnick. what he’s gonna say, what are you gonna say, everything.

you wouldn’t really blame him if he was gonna get mad at you. you would too. you had the chance to not go back, yet you decided you will. although, you knew finnick would do the same in your place, katniss had a family she had to take care of, you had only finnick and friends, that all were going to the arena as well, making you wonder, how could anyone think you’d stay home and just watch? a lot of people would, but not you.

the train finally stopped in the capitol and from the window you saw people on the station, screaming and cheering and waving, greeting you and peeta. you just gave a fake smile, before disappearing behind the curtains again and following after effie to the exit.

deep breaths. in and out. your brain repeated to you, as you walked through the familiar hallway, hand in hand with peeta, showing each other support, through a little gesture.

“they all know each other, have been friends for years which gives you two a disadvantages since y’re newbies, try to make a good impression and allies, that is the most important.” he warned looking straight at you and not at peeta at all.

“but- that makes no sense, getting too close to them will just give them an opportunity to kill us right away.” you argue with your mentor.

“sweetheart, if you two stay alone, they’re gonna hunt y’ down, immediately. say what’cha want but i know these people.”

“how can we even trust them?” you throw your arms defensively, sitting on the chair, in between your blonde friend and effie.

“hey, c’mon…” peeta tried to convince you. of course he thought that your trust issues were valid, but he also understood that if you wanted to live at least after the bloodbath, you’d have to make alliances with some of the other victors.

“it’s not about trust it’s about staying alive.” haymitch gave you a strict, pointed look, ending the debate, placing the empty glass that smelled of whiskey, back at the table.

after the talk with haymitch you both were send to your quarters before your prep teams would call you and discuss the opening ceremony.

the elevator felt too small, too slow and too hot to keep your nerves in check. you knew you wouldn’t be able to calm down until seeing finnick, yet everything around you was making it even more unbearable, the feeling of being pressed together into a little ball, like the walls would close around your body, squishing you together.

“see you later?” your blond district partner’s voice echoed in your ear, taking you out of your thoughts and you give him a brief nod of agreement as an answer. if it was not for him maybe you wouldn’t even notice that the elevator’s door clicked open at your destination.

walking into your room, you slump on the bed, diving back into your restless mind. the room was just so capitol like. modern and luxurious, brightly coloured. a king sized bed places in the very middle of the chamber, a lone painting of the city’s skyline hung on the wall, soft carpet covered the first three feet of a measure from the edge of the bed so coldness of the floor would not be the first thing waking you up in the morning as if to make up for the coldness of the room on it’s own. there was nothing personal, nothing idiosyncratic that would make it imperfect, that would make it human and feel like home.

the swirls of your own brain would maybe swallow you whole if there was not a knock on the door and then a face of your district’s escalator appeared.

“sweetie, be ready in few down at the hall, pleas. also, special someone is waiting for you.” effie smiled, and her eyes held a sparkle of mystery. oh, how much she rooted for you and finnick, how much she rooted for katniss and peeta. she tried to hide it, but you were an observant person and the lessening ignorance from her was just making you like her more but you understood the importance of keeping up a mask.

“thank you, effie.” sparing her a small smile, watching her leave, you walked toward the mirror that decorated one part of the wardrobe’s door. you fixed the mess your two braids had become and tied the bows of ribbon on each side again. it was there to ground you. maybe you were crazy, but that little flashes of colour in the grey and dusty district you grew up in, were giving you hope. hope that not everything was black and white and that there was a way out. you hoped they would work the same in here. to remind you where you’re from, that fighting is a second nature to you.

impatiently stepping, from foot to foot, in the elevator you waited for it to get to zero. you didn’t know why you felt so sick. you did this before. you can do it again, right? maybe if finnick’s fallen, worried face wasn’t the first thing you saw when the elevator let you into the lobby, where prep teams were supposed to pick up their victors in no time, those affirmations would’ve been more affective. just maybe.

puffing out your chest, straightening your back, and walking towards the group of much older and skilled victors with confidence seemed like a good idea second ago, the other second when enobaria pierced through you with her gaze, not so much. you had a deep respect for that woman.

swallowing down you walk up to the other duo standing there. you counted five victors in total, which was not much, but you assumed others were or requested to be escorted from their private rooms. few meters from the career pack, there was no one other than finnick with mags next to him.

finnick chatted with his career co-victors for a while, trying to appear as indifferent and as charming as he always is. there was no way for him and you to be in a public relationship, no. it’s been just a secret between you and your closest friends. you did try to hide it from snow, but he found out in a matter of weeks anyway. surprisingly he let it slide, a thought forming in his head how great of a extortion method this could be for him.

“i won’t look into what you do in private, but for everyone else, you and her have to appear available and willing, mr. o’dair.” snow’s voice ringed in finnick’s head often, killing him from the inside like a parasite.

a good way to describe president snow, who always found ways to hurt and destroy more and more. increasingly often you and finnick found yourselves escorted at the capitol from your districts, to satisfy the greedy clients that simple objectified and violated you, leaving you feel used and dirty.

finnick had a comforting arm around mags’ shoulders, few moments after excusing himself from the conversation with the other careers, waiting for their prep teams. a familiar sounding footsteps echoed through the room, familiar scent lined through the air as you neared him, finnick adverted his eyes from mags’ looking up so he was met with a warm, soft but confident gaze of his lover.

he wanted to run to you, take you into his arms and kiss you senseless. instead he just gave you that warm smile, waiting. he was still upset about earlier events but also incredibly understanding and content to see you alive.

giving a brief nod of acknowledgment to the careers you hurried to hug finnick, while trying to make it look like he wasn’t the love of your life or something.

“finnick.” you breath out loud in relief almost, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his muscular arms envelop you once again after all the long weeks of being out of reach, just relaying on a belief the other one was safe.

“my love…” he whispered softly, almost inaudibly so no one would hear, but you did and that was enough.

he didn’t wanted to pull away from you, almost felt like he physically couldn’t until you did, leaning back, taking away the warmth you provided for the brief moment the embrace lasted.

“hi mags.” you greet mags, the wonderful old lady you’ve grown so much to, finnick’s mentor and the female tribute for district four. she returned your hug, giving you a smile, her gentle motherly hand brushed your cheek.

the next day the training began, you were given your training suits and alongside peeta, you walked into the training room. so similar to how you remembered it. the survival stands, fighting matts and of course simulators, for archery, knife throwing, sword fighting and much else.

you part ways with your district partner, for now, walking around slowly, trying your hardest to smile at the other occupants of the room, but most, just hissed or glared at you, until by the corner of your eye, you caught those crazy geniuses from the third district or whatever haymitch said, struggling to make a fire.

“you should move your hands downward and faster.” you try to advice putting a smile on your face, as you tried unnoticeably take a closer look at the pair, sitting down next to them, watching beetee try again.

“a little brutal force..” wiress gasped as she saw the smoke coming out of the wood.

“is always helpful. thank you.” beetee finished the line for his district partner and smiled at you, pushing his glasses back on his nose.

“by the corner of the table.” the female tribute whispers mysteriously, making you look up at the balcony, the gamemakers watched you from like hawks analysing their preys. you squint your eyes trying to figure out what was wiress talking about, so you ask.

“plutarch?” the head gamemaker had talked to you, at the victor’s party very briefly, few momths ago, but wiress shook her head and beetee seemed to be only remaining from the trio to catch on what his co-victor was talking about.

“force field.”

“how do you know?” you ask curious, scanning the area, but you just didn’t know what to catch onto.

“the shimmering. top left side.” beetee explained lightly turning your head towards the imperfect edge of the figurative border, “you see it?”

you nod along, fascinated by the occurrence. “almost like glass.” you commented.

“it separates them from us.” wiress sighed and you frowned knowingly.

“i know who’s fault that is..”

“electro-magnetic.” beetee stated after analysing the force field for few another seconds.

“how can you tell?” you ask again, confusion settling in your expression a they laughed. “is it obvious or something?” you pout almost as they giggled some more while you were trying to figure pit if there was something you were missing.

“they might as well put a sign there.” wiress laughed some more as beetee tried to explain it to you.

“look around, the holograms, the lights, every once a while, they flicker. why?”

“because the force field is taking up too much energy.” you answer, nodding understandingly, feeling a little better after seeing his pleased smile at your correct answer.

“there’s always a flaw in the system.”

and that made you think for few seconds, just about how true that was, but before you could dive too deep into those waters, by the corner of your eye, you caught mags, making fish hooks. you excuse yourself politely, from the district three victors and made your way towards the eldest mentor and this years tribute.

your gaze scanned over her creations. you knew how to make those, because finnick taught you some time ago, it came in handy a lot, you just wanted an excuse to talk to her.

“volunteering for annie was really brave.” you say standing next to her, giving her a soft encouraging smile.

mags just shook her head, her gentle hand touching your chest, which was your answer. you knew what she meant. that she admired your bravery to volunteer for your best friend instead.

before you had a chance to say anything else, finnick appeared behind you with a trident and a rope in his hand, grinning, like he was having the time of his life.

“you know this is the best knot you can know in the arena.” the blonde said hanging a noose around his neck.

you just gave him an unimpressed look but barely could fight back the smile as you were looking at him, knowing full well that was his only intention beside showing off.

“don’t look at me, look at the knot.” he chuckled as he tried to lecture you, dramatically tugging on the end of the rope, towards you.

“hilarious.” you comment, crossing your arms over your chest, but an amused smile was plastered on your face, reaching your eyes even.

“do you wanna take me for a walk?” finnick cocked his eyebrow, while keeping his tone light, his bronze waves already were a mess after his training, and maybe you even would if it wasn’t for the given circumstances so you just roll your eyes over him coyly, walking past him, for your chosen weapon to train more your skills.

“oh, really?” you heard finnick’s voice call behind you and you just had to smile for yourself before focusing on the task at hand again.

“good news.” haymitch walked into the lounge room of their floor that peeta and you were occupying, stopping right in from of the couch you were sitting on.

“more than half of the tributes want you as their ally.” haymitch said, arms folded over his chest, but what he said, was meant as a praise, he was relieved you made a good impression.

“well they saw her fight.” peeta said, standing next to haymitch, mentioning how you left everyone speechless at the training earlier today after showing your chosen skill in full swing.

“well sweetheart, who’s your pick?” haymitch asked expectantly before muttering under his breath. “beside o’dair of course..”

“i want wiress and beetee.” you say without much thinking, blinking as you saw haymitch’s expression shift ever so slightly.

“johanna calls them nuts and voltes.” your district partner comments, not so sure with your choice of allies.

“well honey, who’s else?” haymitch tried again, his last hopes mirroring in his eyes.

“mags.” you shrug softly almost pouting at the looks you have gotten from your mentor and co-tribute.

haymitch swallowed, hard. looking at peeta who was right now rethinking all his life choices before looking back at you.

“i’ll tell them y’re still makin’ up your mind.” he settled on before walking back towards the elevator.

soon enough the prep teams plugged out their victor, to make them look as significant as attractive and as glorious as they can. you were waxed off of all your additional body hair beside those on your head. they bathed you, scrubbed and soaped up your body with the expensive products that held rich scents of vanilla, strawberries and sweet cakes.

it didn’t take more than hour before cinna walked through the door of the room where you were supposed to wait for him.

“cinna..” you hug him, your hair still wet. he was the first person from the capitol, you ever trusted. he was a great stylist and even greater man. as a stylist for district twelve, he dressed both you and katniss for your games.

breathtaking, mesmerising, magnificent, enchanting and just simply beautiful. all those words could describe the dress you wore. white, wedding like, but incredibly revealing even if they were floor length. that’s how you first would call it, they wanted you to be desirable. you knew why. you knew it was all president snow, teasing, poking and provoking. it was just so him.

“and if i die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.” you watched finnick say on the stage, next to caesar flickerman, and god did it sounded so fake. the audience swooned, some of the other victors beside you made disgusted faces and you, you were the only one in the room, knowing it was real.

flickerman sent him off the stage with a laugh, and called the female tribute from district five on the stage. the victors kept changing and before you could listen more to johanna’s screaming, finnick’s voice stole your attention away.

“break a leg, or whatever you say in twelve.” the typical arrogant smirk decorated his perfect face as he snickered, throwing yet another sugar cube into his mouth, you knew it always did ease his nerves.

“maybe johanna will break his leg.” you mutter adverting your gaze to johanna mason, raging on the podium. when finnick introduced you to her first, you found her hard to trust, but soon enough you got used to her unpredictable, fierce nature. your calmer and rational thinking was a great contrast to your friendship.

the observation earned a chuckle from finnick as he took a little step closer to you, looking at you with his sea green eyes, for a long moment as if complimenting your beauty with just the look on it’s own. finnick had his way with words, there was no discussion about that, but his eyes always spoke for him first.

“see y’ later, honey.” his thumb ever so gently brushed against your chin, as he turned to walk to the other already interviewed victors.

“peeta.” finnick acknowledged your district partner with a brief nod, and he got one back, from the younger blonde.

“finnick.” peeta muttered, walking up to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder briefly before he saw haymitch nearing both of you with effie trying to keep up with him on her dramatically tall heels.

“you know what to do?” haymitch switched gaze between his protégés, before sipping some alcohol from his flask again, to make sure they understood. earning a nod from both you and peeta he sighed, for now leaving it to the fate.

“it’s time.” effie chimmed when your name was called and started lightly pushing you towards the staircase leading up the podium.

“our lovely girl, all the from twelve, doesn’t she look beautiful?” caesar gushed putting a hand over his chest, while holding the microphone in the other. the audience cheered, they loved you here, you were such an interesting victor to the capitol.

“tell us, did you leave a special someone at home? i don’t believe you didn’t.” laugh erupted from the crowd but everyone awaited your answer.

“thank you, caesar. what a..nostalgic feeling to be here again., but i didn’t, really.” you smile sweetly, your eyes searching for a head of bronze waves underneath the podium but the moment of silence flickerman left you was way too short, for you to be successful. and also technically, you weren’t lying. the special someone was there with you.

“unbelievable. such a beautiful young lady. ain’t i right gentlemen.” the crowd cheered once more before caesar asked you other number of questions.

“you did good, now you two should get some rest, the raiting starts early again tomorrow.” haymitch said as he walked with you and peeta to the elevator after introducing you to his friends, seeder and chaff, the victor tributes from district eleven.

you gave a hum in an answer, leaning against the glass wall of the lift while it gone up, not paying attention to the conversation haymitch had with peeta, getting lost in your thoughts once again before johanna’s loud voice pierced through the compressed space.

“care to unzip?” she grinned at peeta which you just rolled your eyes over, until by the corner of your eye you caught familiar tall frame that stepped in just behind johanna. finnick.

“haymitch.” the victor from district four cocked at your mentor, who just gave him a nod, brief annoyance flashing over his expression, just before johanna completely stripped off her clothes having all of the three blond’s eyes on her.

“thanks. lets do it again some time.” she called over her shoulder winking at you, before walking away into the hallway of the seventh floor where her quarters were.

“thank you.” the oldest member of the group answered and finnick threw a smirk at you making you roll your eyes once again, not even noticing haymitch’s judging look thrown into your boyfriend’s direction.

“not tired, o’dair?” your mentor uttered indifferently, looking everywhere around just to not catch your gaze.

“ve got a great stamina.” the younger blond mused while peeta just shifted awkwardly not comfortable in the position between the two older victors.

you just fake coughed lightly into your fist, reminding everyone of your presence so all the male victors around went quiet rather than being scold for the childishness of their arguments.

“twelfth floor.” the voice in the elevator announced and peeta was the first one to get out just to disappear into his bedroom, wanting to leave you and finnick some space, knowing he will talk to you later, but mainly wanting to get away from any other possible drama.

haymitch almost lazily shuffled out, into the hall, drinking the liquor from his flasks once more, before turning his head to look at you, making that disapproving face.

“use protection.” he just muttered before getting lost as well, before you had any chance to yell something back at him.

“are you even allowed to be here?” you turn to finnick, before he led the two of you slowly to the balcony railing, his hand holding yours.

“i didn’t ask.” is your answer from him along with that charming, kind smile of his. finnick leaned against the railing, reaching his free hand out to cup your face, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

it was more than comforting, to after weeks of loneliness, spent the night in finnick’s warm, loving embrace, his presence always had the charm to keep the nightmares from haunting every minute of your not so peaceful sleep.

the four days went even faster than it did last time. the individual rating was something that went completely around you and your brain wasn’t able to process much of the given informations, when it was occupied by the thoughts of what is gonna happen tomorrow and if you will live to see what happens after tomorrow.

“pst. hey, hey baby.” the familiar gentle voice took you out pf your thoughts and you turned around to see finnick standing at the doorway of your bedroom. for tonight, you had agreed to sleep separately, so you’d be strong and fully rested at the dawn.

“finnick!” leaping into his arms you take the feeling in, as if it was the first and last time, you ever get to feel his love and care.

finnick smiled, holding you close to his chest his arms supporting your weight as he leaned his head down, kissing your lips gently. then again, and again.

“i’ll see you in the mornin’ m’kay, sweet girl? ‘s all gonna be okay.” he gave you a reassuring look pecking your forehead.

“yea, in the morning.” you mumble, just clinging close to him, not being able to say much right now, feeling your insides being tangled in a one knot and squeezed tightly.

“good night, my love.”

“good night, finn.” unwillingly you let him go only comforting thought being that it all, might soon be over.