#his life is chaos and he's running out of suits

[spacedace]

He paused at that, eyes narrowing. “Doc,” He said, slowly, “Who, exactly, did you reach out to on this matter?”

The amusement in Leslie Thompkins’ voice said everything he needed to know. As did the sudden thunder of feet as his security team began to swarm him - a few skidding on the ice, though recovering admirably - and make their way to the front door, guns at the read. “You’re clever Mr. Cobblepot, I’m sure you already know.”

The worst part was that he did.

Oswald felt a headache bloom behind his eyes as he realized the chaos about to invade his home.

--

Chapter 8 is (finally) here!

[scuderiahoney]

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny runs for Mayor P.2

kgned3Part 1

Some more snippets of the Gotham Mayor Danny AU!

...

Danny would absolutely try to hire some of the Rouges as his Mayoral Cabinet, I can just imagine Waylon Jones, the Killer Croc, in a Suit and Slacks sitting in a the Mayors Office while awkwardly holding his resume.

Danny: So, Mr. Jones, why do you think we should hire you? Waylon: Well sir, I have something of a reputation and I feel like I would be an amazing Bodyguard. Danny: OK, one question though. What is your opinion on Clowns? Waylon: I don’t like them. Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, Mr Nygma, what do you think you would bring to my office? Edward: Well sir, I am fairly well known for my expert planning and timing skills. Also I can give you fun riddles whenever you want! Danny: Hmmm, that’s definitely a good point. One question, if needed, will you attack a clown on sight? Edward: Yes? Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, I can see that you used to have a very reputable resume Mr. Dent. Harvey: Thank you sir. Danny: I can’t see any reason to refuse your application, but I do have one question. Do you like Clowns? Harvey: Uhm...yes? Danny: I am sorry dir, but I am going to have to reject your application for a job in the Mayors office. Mr Jones, please escort this man out 

...

Danny would absolutely do an amazing job in decreasing the crime rate, just by virtue of the fact that his very presence is destabilizing the Curses put on the City.

But at the same time, his policies are also very efficient, based on Gen Z Humor/Ideas

Danny: As my new Law states, every year the most rich person in the City will be forced to give up 70% of their assets to Charity. You can avoid this by donating as much as possible in the weeks leading up to the Sacrifice Day, whoever donates the most is exempt from the choosing even if they are the Richest, we will then move on to the second Richest, and so on Reporter: Sir, isn’t this just the “Winner Of Capitalisms” Prompt from Tumblr? Danny: Yes.

...

Batman: Why did you just pass a Law that states that all Vigilantes are given the right to kill? Danny: Because I accidentally hired every villain in Gotham, so now there is nobody to try and bribe me. And if nobody tries to bribe me, then nobody realizes that I will only accept bribes if the Joker is dead, like I said in my Campaign. I know that you guys have a no-kill rule, but I know at least one of you who would jump at the chance  Batman: *realizes that Dick has already killed the Joker once, Jason is actively attempting to every day, Tim is chaos incarnate and would do it to feel included, and Damian just really wants to let loose* Well played...

...

Danny: Vlad, I am serious. Leave me alone or I will put you in Soup Jail for 3 months! Vlad: FINE! I’ll just go possess another Billionaire to force them to give me their company again Batman, listening from outside the window: What the f-

...

Danny in every conversation with the Batfamily: I re-respect your decision to not tak-take a life...but I must insist you kill the Joker...for the good of the peephol-People! He is not a good inf-influence on this city and he must be des...troyed. Batman: *Wondering why he sounds like he is reading from a script* Um, I don’t think thats a good idea? Lady Gotham: *Standing behind Batman with some Cue Cards, trying to communicate with her Knights through Danny* *Thumbs Up* Danny: Also I wanted to say that you need to- oh um, ok- to get over the deaths of your parents and grieve in a healthy way instead of adopting every child you see. You are doing a great job kid, parentheses, do not read this par- Oh-Oops. Batman: Hm. I’m not even going to question that anymore.

...

Tag List:

@skulld3mort-1fan @kgne-k @deatlive @alcorbearson @we-ezer @auralykos @dakkapel @alinmenttreasure @lord-of-0blivion @countessdragon @naluforever3 @fylylowo @shadow-otaku20 @dannyphantomphan @heirxofxtime @ourrechte-blog @fantasticbluebirdfan @imnotgrimmjustagrumpyreader @mssagoberattare @elvesandlanterns @space-dreams-world @lizz-blizt @stargirl1331 @totallysmores-blog @screamingtofillthevoid @malice-of-the-sunrise @olivethetreebitch @addie-lover-of-stories @thatonegaybitch68 @asphyxia778 @top7879 @biance-hooks123 @runfromthemedic @dionysuss-big-naturals @the-legal-shipper @icepopstar5105us @

[yandere-sins]

How'd you think Yandere luci and Yandere Mammon would deal with a S/O who's hiding the fact they're a virgin and is always trying to avoid intercourse by excuses like pretending to be asleep etc because they don't want to lose their virginity to them? (ALSO BTW, I LOVE YOUR WORK. like your work is super amazing and detailed <3 best yan writer)

Thank you for reading my writing!! I am so glad you enjoy it ^-^

And thank you for requesting! ♥

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Lucifer

♡ As if he doesn't know. You might be able to fool another human, and maybe someone as dense as Mammon, but you can't fool Lucifer. He had already noticed you shying away from his touch, the goosebumps and sudden tension that would go through you every time he touched you (rather innocently even). It's like you expected something to happen and are unsure how to react. Maybe you don't want it, perhaps you do, but your signals aren't very clear, and that makes him suspect you.

♡ He could blame it on some form of trauma that he doesn't know about, but he'd expect your reactions to be a bit more violent or fueled by rejection if that was the case. Instead, they are bashful and tense, with a taste of sweetness and innocence that Lucifer quite likes. And he caught Asmo giving you a knowing look once while you seemed even more hesitant to approach the 5th oldest brother; you made it much too easy for Lucifer to figure out what kind of game you were playing.

♡ So, he'll play along for a while since it's now in his control. You might not be a well-aged drop of lust yet, but delaying the inevitable is going to do you both well. Riling you up, getting you to let down your guard, and leaving you hot and bothered will benefit Lucifer greatly. Seeing your walls crumble will be enough to satisfy him for a while, so he won't have to put his hands on you prematurely. You may simmer on the knowledge that he'll take your virginity at some point, be sensitive, and get confused at times over his actions. Maybe even fantasize what it'll be like. Will he be rough? Gentle? Ease you into it or brutal steal your innocence like he did with your freedom? Letting your thoughts and desires run wild, no matter how much you want to deny them, will almost guarantee that once you are ready, you'll be at a point where you'll crawl to him, begging for release. And Lucifer likes that idea very much.

♡ Things he'll do to chip away at your defense include but aren't limited to spooning up against you at night, his cock perfectly pressed against your body but not grinding against you. Just letting you know it's there and ready for you and allowing you to get used to it but never letting you scoot away. The same is true with his hand placement at night, his palm at your lower abdomen, just resting there, and his fingertips slipping beneath your clothes to leave feathery trails of allurement. So close yet far enough away, teasing, playful, promising. The warmth it emits seeping into your body, heating you up, only for him to retract and leaving you hanging. Sometimes, his fingers will play with your clothes, letting you know just how agile they are. Your mind will do the rest as you can imagine the chaos and pleasure they can leave in their wake. He wears human pheromones suited to your taste, and he'll flirt with you, complimenting you even when you feel vulnerable, letting you know how receptive he is to taking the next step. It's only a matter of time until you cave, but Lucifer will do everything to make it the hardest few days of your life.

Mammon

♡ Mammon is indeed a little dense. He might feel a bit off-put if you reject his advances repeatedly, but he doesn't see anything wrong with it the first few times. There is absolutely no subtlety in his advances, his kisses bordering on orgasm-territory already when he's in the mood, his hands greedy as is fitting for his title. You might be forced into these affections, but even you can't help but squirm beneath him. It only gives him more incentive to take it up a notch when he's just so passionate, your lips constantly bruised, and your neck marked by his teeth.

♡ So it becomes very frustrating and confusing for him when you kick and scream the moment he gets a bit more intimate. He'd like to respect your choice despite him not giving you one when it comes to whether or not you'll be with him for the rest of your life. Mammon likes to think he's gracious like that. But he thought you two were on the right path to taking the next step, yet you keep rejecting him. To be fair, he's been very clear that he wants you for a long time: Grinding against you, fondling your body even though he should be concentrating on other things. You've caught him jerking off next to you, moaning your name quite a few times even though you pretended to be asleep. And if that isn't clear enough, he's been nagging and sometimes even begging on his knees for you to give him some of that sweet body of yours to fuck. You've rejected him all the same, so for Mammon, it hints at something being seriously wrong, but he can't quite figure it out himself.

♡ It takes some... advice from more experienced individuals for him to come to a conclusion. Levi thinks perhaps he smells bad, Satan questions why anyone would want to be with Mammon in the first place, and Beel asks if maybe you're too hungry for any of that stuff and if Mammon fed you properly. But hey, at least Asmo is useful, hinting at the possibility of you feeling... insecure. Maybe you're too "inexperienced" (Mammon vehemently denies the possibility of you being a virgin, cause duh, look at you! Stunning, gorgeous, and he will totally kill anyone who touched you before him, but clearly, with how seductive and sexy you are, he can't possibily your first). So Mammon deducts Asmo is right; you're just nervous because you'll be with a great guy like Mammon!

♡ Worry not; he decides to show you the ropes! ... Literally. You might stutter and reject his ideas of getting close and personal, but Asmodeus had a handy bag of goodies for Mammon before he left. Even though Mammon is at his limit, he tries to keep it together for you, tying you up and making you watch him jerk off, reciting all the things he wants to do to you, how he'll do it, and showing you how insane you are driving him. There won't be any more nights to hide away after that, as Mammon will demonstrate to you exactly how worthy you are to lay with him. But at least he'll ease you into it, that's something, right? You'll get the full 7 hells of orgasms from his mouth to fingers to toys. Forcing you to rely on him as he takes away your senses, like sight, and the freedom to move as you please. By the time he finally gets to wet his cock on you, you'll be already too well-fucked to care, and if that isn't devotion, what is?

[bluerosefox]

Gothamites Never Really Rest

Small warning in this: very light swearing, light mentions of deaths, and tw light touching on the subject of abuse, like very light. But still an fyi.

Danny was used to his main Rogues (Boxy, Ember, Skulker, etc etc, you know those guys) showing up randomly and at odd hours, causing some chaos around town due to their own boredom or just wanting some fun (the more deadly ones were rare to show up and his main Rogues do at least respect him enough to give him the rest of the day off when they sense a ‘big bad’ fight), he fights them, wins, before he send them back to the portal. Then they rinse and repeat this for the next day.

So as he really wasn’t expecting, especially since he had just sent his ghostly quota for the day back to the portal a few hours ago (Boxy of course, and Youngblood (dressed as a Firefighter this time, though the ending for their fight actually ended on a good note. YB had been asking Danny about space, Danny kinda hoped YB will be an Astronaut next time cause that would be fun)), Johnny 13 (and Shadow) to phase into his room as he was heading to bed.

Honestly (he groaned when he realized who it was, dealing with Johnny, Kitty (and Shadow) during a ‘break up’ or ‘lovers spat’ always was a pain) he was expecting Johnny to just start attacking but before Danny could demanded to know what he was doing in his room Johnny hesitatingly asked if they could talk.

Now Danny, talking to his main Rogues, like legit talking was a very rare thing. But it has happened a few times.

With Johnny asking if they could talk, his face nervous but not in a 'I pissed off Kitty and idk where she ran off to again', Danny nodded and agreed.

"Hey, so like I know we all kinda agreed not to go roaming too far from Amity because of the whole government suits guys and bringing unwanted attention to us ghosts in the names of the Super Dorks but is it alright if Kitty and I head across the state for a few days? I promise we'll be back and stay under the radar..."

"What?! Why would you guys need to something like that?!"

"....."

"Johnny, look dude I know Amity can get boring sometimes but-"

"Someone killed Kitty's abusive waste of space father three weeks ago, you know that fucker that killed us in cold blood when he found out Kitty and I were enloping. Yeah him. We felt it, we felt him die and... kid I can tell you how our cores SANG about it when he croaked. Whoever ended him, they did so for us. It was a revenge kill... It felt amazing. Its why you havent seen us too, we... we needed time to process that." Johnny quickly explained and that shut any protest Danny had up, he knew a bit of the story how Johnny and Kitty died, and it was respectful to allow one's fellow ghost to talk about their deaths should they talk of it.

With a melancholy smile and a hand petting a chirping Shadow who sprung up to comfort his other half, Johnny then said "Kitty's been avoiding returning to Gotham for ages since we woke up in the Realms and whenever we found a natural portal back to it. She's always been terrified of running into him and even being a ghost she's still can't. But he's gone now, we felt his life end and he isn't a ghost either! Like legit, if he became a ghost we'd still be able to sense our murderer you know!... Anyways she wants to visits her old haunts and maybe see if we can find some old friends, see how they're doing you know. We won't mess with them or anything, just a small pop in..."

"We... We also kinda wanna find the guy who did it too... We could feel his emotions when he ended Kitty's old man and firstly let me tell you, rage. Like a lot of it. But also we felt his need for justice and... he felt familiar... like someone we knew and he knew us. That's how we know it's a revenge kill. Someone did that for us and well.... Kitty and I wanna thank him you know."

-x-x-

Meanwhile in Gotham about three week prior.

A budding Crime Lord had crossed out the face of a older man from a photograph pinned onto a corkboard, below and connected by red strings was two other papers as well. One held the newspaper clipping of two bodies being found in a ditch with the remains of a busted up motorcycle, a young male and female were reportedly found halfway buried in it. The male was reported to be a trouble maker from Crime Alley, knowen for stealing tires while the female was the daughter of a suspected mob boss.

The other string however, lead to a small, yellowed from age and tiny bit damaged photo of three people. The photo held two older, nearly out of their teens, male and female both looking like rough city street kids. A motorcycle could be seen behind them an it was missing a wheel. The young man with blonde hair was kneeling on the ground, his hands holding onto a tire iron and he looked rather proud, the young female was wearing red and had some dye in her hair and was smiling as she held the camera taking the picture in a selfie as best as she could.

In between the two was a young kid, blue eyes and black hair, a beaming smile on his face as his own hands were on top of a tire wheel. A wheel he had finally learned how to take off in record speed thanks to Johnny teaching him.

Green eyes that shifted for a second to teal stared at the photo for a moment before saying

"Hope you both are resting easily now. Kitty, Johnny."

[chrollohearttags]

plug!connie thinks it’s so cute when reader gets jealous. maybe he took her to a party so he could deal and make some moves and some girl tries to flirt with him and reader gets a lil attitude. he snatches her up real good in the bathroom and tells her that he’s only hers and send her off with a kiss, a smack on her ass and a “stop playing with me ma” 🤭

yessss! Y’all know how I feel about plug connie! 😩 so hey! We coming back to all the good requests this week.

cw: !black fem reader, drug mention, public (?) sex, backshots, breeding, choking, aggressive Connie

“We not gone be here long, lemme just go take care of this real quick and I promise we can go somewhere else..” the very sentence that Connie had uttered to you sweetly with a finger underneath your chin as you pulled up to a house party on the outskirts of town. it wasn’t the type of place you’d frequent on your lonesome but this was the life you had gotten used to since being on Springer’s arm. It wasn’t easy being the girl of a drug dealer..even though he tried his hardest to keep you out of his affairs as much as possible, it was sometimes inevitable. The two of you had planned a nice outing; grabbing some food and doing some shopping but that was all but derailed when he got summoned to do a drop. Unlike a DoorDash or Uber, it wasn’t optional..this was mandatory and his lick just so happened to be at this event. Now you found yourself in the midst of a crowded living room, surrounded by girls dancing and doing lines, dudes grinding up on them and knocking back drinks…it was utter chaos! You spotted a couple of familiar faces, even had a shot or two yourself in hopes to loosen up and not look like a complete fly on the wall. You had even begun to dance with a couple girlfriends you had class with and was smiling before long. However, that was all but shattered when you’d go back to your seat and spot your man chopping it up with not only one of his boys but another girl, who seemed to be lingering a little too close. The bad part was, he was smiling and enjoying it! Now you never made it your mission to trip or get jealous..hell, as far as you were concerned, if a nigga wanted to entertain someone else, they could have his ass. But you knew it wasn’t like that with him. He loved you more than anything..so why the hell were you getting so mad?! Maybe because you were being drug to this hellhole after the promise of a nice evening and instead watching some bitch touch all over him. You knew he was taking care of important business so you chose not to interrupt and instead bowed out to a backroom to clear your head. It wasn’t long before he spotted you angrily brushing through the crowd and followed suit. It was only when you found yourself at a bathroom door did you hear him calling out.. “(y/n)! (Y/N)….where you going, baby?” his words met with complete silence as you turned and kept walking. The walk had led you two down a dimmed hallway and you’d push open the first door you could find..anything not to see his face. But he wasn’t having it! Met with a mirror, sink, toilet and stand in shower, you’d corner yourself off there, trying to fight back tears until you heard the knob turn. He bursts in there with a less than friendly expression on his face, now mad that you have him chasing you. “Man, what’s wrong witchu? Why the fuck you running from me?” But you’re in no mood to answer his very obvious question. Pushing at his chest, you try to evade him but Connie just ends up holding you by your wrists until you tell him what’s wrong.

“..leave me the fuck alone, Connie…got me in this dumbass party so you can let these bitches play in your face.” blurting out in a low mumble without making eye contact with him. And he’s so confused at first that he genuinely doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about. So he asks you to repeat and once you do, he just starts laughing..which reallly pissed you off! “..ain’t shit funny, Connie. The fuck is you laughing for?” And from there, he doesn’t try to explain a damn thing. Just spins you around to face the mirror..placing a hand around your throat as he grimaces in your ear. “Chill out with all that shit…I ain’t playing with you, (y/n).” Normally, it’d work to stop you from being irate but you decided to press his buttons since he wanted to play. “And what you gone do if I don’t?” Retorting back, only to be met with a slap to your ass and a pressing hand to your spine. The next thing you knew..your leg was hiked up on the counter and Connie was mounted behind you with his hands snaking up your dress. “..face that fucking mirror and don’t move.” a command you followed, merely thinking nothing of it. Tugging those panties to the side in the process. What you didn’t know was that he was about to fuck that little attitude right out of you!

in one other swift motion, Connie unfastened the buckle to his Amiris, letting them sway to his hips and expose that thick cock as he saddled behind you. Stroking himself in his palm and licking his hand to lubricate his tip..which was already very much seeping and erect for you. His wristwatch sitting idly on the small of your back whilst he prepared to enter you; not even bothering to easy his way in because he needed to teach you a lesson. But as always, you opened right up for him in a matter of seconds. That wetness swallowing him immediately after his first thrust, which made both of you emit a loud gasp. But he would garner his stance and rhythm, making sure you knew who was in control. Eventually, he’d begin to feed you a few deeper strokes, ones that had you making a mess of him in that short span. “Fuck…Connie. Yes, right there!”

looking back with a firm grasp on that sink counter, (y/n) cried out for more, begging this man to keep hitting your spot and place his claim on it. Which he did, as well as began choking you in the process to keep that head reigned in and your eyes on him. That heavy ass bouncing fiercely off of his pelvis. This was exactly what you needed..to be pounded into pure oblivion and made to understand that you were his one and only priority.

“You feel that dick, baby? The way I’m fucking on this lil’ pussy? Can’t nobody get that shit but you. This all yours..I belong to you. Ain’t no need to trip like that.”

the words making you soften a bit and realize just how foolish you were acting! He had no use for that girl or any other one when he had you by his side. There wasn’t even the slightest bit of competition there and he’d drill it into your mind…and body that you were the only woman he’d ever need. “It’s alright though..I know you only get like this when I ain’t been in it. But you know I love you, (y/n). Love the way you feel f’r me and shit. I ain’t never coming up off of you.” With your breasts bouncing around after spilling from your top half. Connie doubled down on those speeds, practically drilling your shit and making your legs quiver. He could also feel just how close you were for him and decided to send you into climax with a few more rough and sporadic thrusts. “I’m coming, fuck! Daddy, I’m coming..” tapping against the counter as a sign of submission and that you were sorry for behaving so foolishly. But he’d need your word that you’d stop the outbursts before allowing that to happen. “You gone act right? Quit acting fucking crazy?..” “..yes! Please, I’m sorry..” which seemed to have sufficed for him because before you knew it, you were gasping for air, desperate for that orgasm when he reached underneath and stroked your clit and clammy folds to bring you to your peak. Which in turn made you tighten and spasm around him. Those juices splattering the floor underneath you both but that didn’t stop him! He had a release of his own but he’d make sure that not one single drop would spill. Instead…

“I’m coming too, baby…nutting in that lil’ pussy.”

and next thing you knew..you were met with a loud grunt and his warm seed splattering the inside of your womb. Not stopping for nearly thirty seconds. Not until you were filled up with him. Letting you know he was all yours. Completely caught in the midst of the feeling, you’d find yourself spun around and greeted with a barrage of sloppy pecks. “C’mere..” muttering against your lips whilst his tongue danced around your mouth. Your eyes aglow with a sparkle that hadn’t been there before. Which made him all the more satisfied. That’s when you’d feel a sharp slap to your ass, causing you to jolt.

“Now quit playing, mama and let me handle this shit. I swear we can do whatever you want when we get up outta here.”

[lxndonorris]

All smiles - Lance Stroll

Y/N x Lance Stroll Theme: Smutish; light touching, not explicit spending time with Lance before the Japanese Grand Prix x word count: 1250+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

Gif by me

The buzz of anticipation fills the air as the Japanese Grand Prix approaches. In the heart of the Aston Martin garage, excitement crackles like static electricity. You stand by, wearing Lance's green Aston Martin shirt and a pair of dark jeans, feeling a mix of nerves and pride as he prepares for the first training session.

Lance, clad in his racing suit, stands by his car, a vision of determination and focus. His eyes dance with excitement as he watches the mechanics fine-tune every detail of his racing machine. You can't help but admire his passion for racing, radiating from every pore.

Lost in the moment, Lane's gaze drifts, his mind undoubtedly wandering to the countless laps he would soon embark upon. You watch him, captivated by the raw energy he exudes. It's obvious; he is in his element, a true racer at heart.

Breaking the silence, you speak softly, your voice cutting through the hum of activity in the garage. "What are you smiling about?" You ask, your eyes alight with curiosity.

Lance turns to you, his grin widening as he meets your gaze. "I'm just happy to be here," he replies, his voice filled with genuine joy. "To be living my dream, racing in Formula 1, it's everything I've ever wanted."

You feel a surge of warmth wash over you at his words. Knowing how hard Lance worked to reach this point, the countless hours of training, the sacrifices he made along the way, and all the comments he had to endure just for following his passion.

"Lance." You breathe, and you can't help but be drawn to him. With a tender smile, you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing deeply beneath the palm of your hand.

"Hey," you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "that smile looks good on you."

A blush creeps up Lance's cheeks, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sends shivers down your spine. He opens his mouth to reply, but before any words could escape, he finds himself leaning in, drawn to you like a magnet.

Your lips meet in a soft, gentle kiss, a moment suspended in time amidst the chaos of the garage. In that instant, the world falls away, leaving only you two, lost in each other's embrace.

As you pull apart, Lance's smile lingers, a beacon of light in the dimly lit garage. You can't help but return it, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.

"Let's go, Lance." A mechanic pats his back; it's time for the first training session to begin.

As he gets ready, you can't help but admire him once more: his racing suit hugs his form flawlessly. His hair, tousled just so, gives him an air of effortless charm, reminiscent of a Disney prince brought to life.

With each movement, his suit seems to accentuate his physique, highlighting the scuplted lines of his body in all the right places. You catch a glimpse of the white fireproofs beneath his unzipped suit, a tantalizing hint of what lies beneath.

Lance meets your gaze with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knows the effect he has on you, reveling in the tease as he toys with the zipper of his suit.

You can't help but play along, a smile dancing on your lips as he strokes himself subconsciously, his hand running across his chest once, then twice, before gently brushing over his crotch and along his waistline.

As Lance settles into the cockpit of his Aston Martin, the anticipation thrumms through the air like electricity. With a quick adjustment of his helmet and a tightening of his gloves, he is ready. With the roar of the engine, he pulls out onto the track, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

You watch from the sidelines, your heart racing in tandem with the car as it speeds off into the distance. Slipping on your headphones, tuning into Lance's radio channel, eager to hear his voice as he navigates the twists and turns of the circuit, you stand next to his mechanics as they feel the same.

As the crackle of the radio fills your ears, you can't help but smile. Every word that comes through is laced with excitement and enthusiasm, a testament to Lance's love for the sport. You can picture the grin on his face as he tackles each corner with precision, pushing his car to the limit with every lap.

And then, amidst the static, you hear it—the unmistakable sounds of laughter, bright and infectious. Lance is giggling; the sheer joy of racing evident in every note of his voice. It is a sound that fills you with warmth, knowing that your boyfriend is living out his dreams on track.

As the session draws to a close, Lance's radio falls silent, the final moments of the session ticking away. But you know that his smile will linger long after he steps out of the car.

Lance emerges from the cockpit, and you sense the adrenaline still flowing through him, his body taut with excitement. You watch him with a mixture of pride and admiration, knowing just how much he loves being behind the wheel.

As he approaches his mechanics, their handshake is filled with a silent understanding, a shared bond forged through countless hours spent working towards a common goal.

With a deft motion, Lance removes his helmet, revealing a sweaty but smiling face beneath. His cheeks are flushed with exertion, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of the ride. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, feeling the warmth of his smile wash over you like a wave.

Lance turns to you, his smile widening at the sight of you. As he approaches you, you notice the confident swagger in his step, a testament to the exhilarating session he just completed on track. Before you can say a word, he pulls you into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

You melt into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his touch and the taste of his lips against yours. Steadying yourself against his body, you start to stroke him. 

Your hand moves with purpose, gliding over Lance's chest, relishing in the taut muscles beneath the fabric of his racing suit. As you apply a firm stroke, you feel a low growl reverberate through his throat, a primal sound that gives you gossebumps.

Caught off guard by your touch, Lance meets your gaze with a mixture of surprise and desire. "How did I do?" he asks, his voice husky with anticipation.

You smile, your eyes sparkling with joy. "You were phenomenal," you reply, your words filled with genuine pride.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips again when you lean in, kissing him gently.

"You really should smile more." Your lips brush over his own. "I'm just so happy for you." As you run your hand through his messy hair, you marvel at the way it frames his face, tousled and wind-swept from the intensity of his time on track. Each strand feels like silk beneath your fingers.

Lance leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the sensation. With a soft sight, he opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with an affectionate smile.

"I will smile more, just for you, I promise," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Yuta finding out you've got severely injured at Shibuya and freaking out

Pairing: Yuta x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: When the news of Shibuya begin to flood in, Yuta almost loses his mind over you. Without thinking twice he pays you, the secret love of his life, a visit.

Warnings: reader is depressed over her injury/disabilities so if that's not for you don't read it, Yuta is very confident in this one like he should, hurt/injury, comfort with my boy Yuta in the end

„Don’t tell me she was there too.”

Pictures flood Yuta’s mind uncontrollably. Your oh so gorgeous doe eyes, your breath-taking smile. You with your hair done the way you know he likes, you in that uniform that suits you so well.

You, lying on the floor covered in your own blood.

The news of what happened at Shibuya already pulled the ground underneath his feet. But given the fact that everyone was involved like Miguel said, you must have been there. They would be reckless to not rely on your powers.

You, a grade 2 sorcerer who would have become a grade 1 within the next few months. You, who promised him that you’ll stay safe.

“Hey, don’t worry about me, okay? This is a great opportunity to get a hold of your great powers, Yuta. I mean of course I’ll miss you terribly, but not enough to destroy this for you. Watch out.”

He had a bad feeling right from the start. After everything that happened just a few months ago, letting you go was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. But you were right with what you’ve said, to accompany Miguel and invest his time into training really was the wisest thing he could do back then.

Except for leaving you behind.

“You mean (y/n)? Both you and I know she definitely was.”

His heart drops in an instant, eyes widen in nothing but pure horror. Hearing that none other that Satoru Gojo got sealed, countless lives ended within only a couple of hours…

You can’t be dead, right? No, it’s simply impossible that you leave him alone like this.

“I hate the thought of dying during some pointless battle. This just doesn’t make sense to me, y’know? I’d rather die as a hero or not at all until I’m old and ugly.”

“But (y/n), you’re a jujutsu sorcerer. Many people just die on the battlefield without a special purpose.”

“I won’t, then.”

God, your wide smile back then. It really made him believe that you are the type to survive everything, that nothing and no one is able to bring you down.

But Shibuya managed to even get a hold of the strongest of them all. So what about you?

His lips begin to tremble uncontrollably, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood begins to spill.

“Tell me she’s alright. Tell me (y/n) made it without getting hurt.”

Miguel signs, the sheer power that radiates from Yuta’s shaking figure running shivers down his spine.

“As far as I know she managed to get out…Somehow.”

That means you’re alive, right? That means you were able to escape certain death. But…

At what cost?

“How is she, then? Tell me already”, Yuta barks at the man standing in front of him.

God, he can’t lose you. Not know. Not when he wasn’t even able to admit his feelings to you, to thank you for always standing by his side, before telling you how much he adores you with all his heart.

“I don’t know! Everything is pure chaos over there”, Miguel replies dryly.

“If that’s so, I will go and pay her a visit.”

“Now? Did you forget you’re here to get trained by me? You can’t just fly over there because of a girl-“

“She is more than just a girl”, Yuta interrupts him immediately.

“And I will go and look after her myself.”

-At Jujutsu High-

Urgh, how much you hate opening your eyes since that fateful day. Yes, you are very much alive and in proud possession of all your limbs. But that’s it, basically.

“Hey, how you’re doing?”

“Better than yesterday, still not fine I guess.”

It haunts you. The pictures of Shibuya plague your mind day in day out. Closing your eyes means seeing all of their faces before they die, opening them reminds you of the fact that you survived despite losing everything else. The sight of your left eye, the ability to move your arms freely, your capability to walk a straight line. The fucking special grade curses hit you hard, burned you to the ground, sliced you open like a fish.

And now you’re laying here as one of the few people that survived Shibuya. Right next to Shoko who cares for you every free minute.

“So glad you didn’t tell me you hate your life again, pessimism doesn’t suit you at all. What would that boy say if he could hear you blow misery?”

That boy named Yuta. It seems like everyone except himself knows about the huge crush you have on him. Well, not very surprising considering the fact that you talk about him day in and out, asking whenever he’s doing fine in that foreign land before even saying hallo.

“Haven’t heard from him since that shit happened. My phone got kinda destroyed and well, most of the time I laid here passed out on the bed”, you reply briefly, staring at the ceiling with no aim.

Oh, how much you long for him, how much you miss to hear his comforting words in the middle of the night. But you know it wouldn’t be wise to tell him what happened. As far as you can tell, Yuta would take the next flight to Tokyo and stay by your side day and night. And even though that sounds more than appealing to you, you just know this isn’t what he needs. He needs to stay where he is, safe and sound while sharpening his abilities. And you aren’t on that list.

“Well, someone definitely told him.”

You squint your functioning eye, staring at the unbothered woman in front of you in confusion. What the hell is she talking about?

“Why are you saying that?”

“(y/n)!?”

Your heart stops, eyes widen. That voice. That oh so familiar voice you heard over the phone for these past months. The voice you dreamed of day and night. Can it really be…

“Yuta?” you breathe out, eye searching for his familiar figure.

Yes, is really is him, standing in the middle of the room with his familiar white uniform. He looks so…different. The dark circles under his eyes are completely gone by now, his dark blue eyes glooming in the dim light. He definitely is a few inches taller than last time, features more mature than before. And his hair…it seems like he finally began to style it a little.

Without hesitation he storms towards you, glistening orbs scanning what’s left of your crippled body.

Yuta feels like dying. You’ve been through so much; your usual bright eyes show nothing but emptiness and agony. What did they do to you? Why does it have to be you? You, the most precious human being walking on this earth. You, the girl he’s secretly in love with since that horrible fight over a year ago. He can’t stop the tears from taking his sight, hands desperately grabbing yours.

“I’m so sorry (y/n). I should have been by your side. I shouldn’t have left you here alone, I-“

“Shut up, Yuta”, you interrupt him before hearing another word.

“You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t expect our first meeting to be when I…look like this…”, you mumble, gaze avoiding him at any cost.

“What are you talking about, (y/n)?”

His heart hammers against his chest, hands on their way to gently caress your cheek when you just turn away.

“All this time I had the chance to tell you that I love you and now…Look at me. Shoko said I might be never able to see again, countless scars will be visible on my body for the rest of my life. My leg got completely destroyed, to the point where even she might not be able to fix it. I’m not the (y/n) you know anymore. I’m a shadow of myself”, you bark at him.

Fuck, don’t cry, don’t let feelings overwhelm you. After all, Nanami-san told you how well you fought.

Just before dying in front of your very own eyes.

Your hands begin to tremble uncontrollably again when pictured of all the death and misery flood your mind. Why can’t you just turn it off? Why aren’t you strong enough to outstand all of this? Desperately you hold your own head, squinting your eyes shut. Please, just let it stop. Let it all go away.

Yuta doesn’t think twice. Gently, he places his hands on top of yours while pressing your head against his chest. It’s just not fair. When he left, you wore your smile so effortlessly, your joyful personality radiating to the outside for everyone to see. But now…you look so broken it kills him from the inside.

“I love you too, (y/n). Just the way you are. No matter how injured, no matter how bad you feel. I will always see the striking (y/n) with the most breath-taking smile and the worst humour of all times in you. We’ll get through this together, okay? I won’t leave your side.”

You crumble against his chest, letting everything out your hid so well within these last couple of hours. Oh, how much you fucking missed him, how much you longed for his touch all this time. Is it really possible that he doesn’t care about your state? Could it really be that…

Yuta Okkotsu loves you the way you are?

“You don’t care about how miserable I am?”, you whimper, taking in his delicious scent that hasn’t change even after all this time.

“Not the slightest. But I will kill everyone who did this to you without blinking”, he remarks in all seriousness.

You gaze up at him. The unsure boy in him seems to be vanished in thin air, eyes filled with confidence while he balls his fists behind your head.

Yuta Okkotsu might have changed, but the tenderness he holds in his gaze when his eyes meet yours is still the same.

“I swear that nothing like this will ever happen again. I’ll stay here with your and will make sure you’re safe.”

Your glossy eyes widen, mind trying to process his words.

“But you…you weren’t even supposed to be here. You still have to train-“

“No training in the world is more important than you. I love you, (y/n). And even though I wasn’t able to admit it back then, I want to stay by your side.”

 And then is lips meet yours. Before he losing the courage to finally do what he dreamed of countless nights, to make sure you understand how much you mean to him. He will make them pay for what they did to you, he will move heaven and earth to make sure they get the punishment they deserve.

But for now, he gently strokes your hair while kissing you with all the desire he hit over the past months, will all the love he holds for you.

“I’ll be there for you, okay? And I will kill every single one of them with my own hands.”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi

there you have it @lees-chaotic-brain I really hope you like it <3 I know this isn't your request yet but I thought you'll enjoy some Yuta content still @belovedvamp

[toxicanonymity]

Non con sex pollen fic where Joel and the reader are waken up in a random room together and he recognizes who you are because he used to be friends with ur dad , he starts begging the people who took them to let him out because the reader isn’t the only person that’s ended up in this situation with him, and then there’s smoke that enters the room but it only has an effect on Joel, if you even decide to turn this into anything can you add oral f receiving pls and do the smut however you want! I’ll love it either way <3 IM SO SORRY ITS ALOT

Lazaretto (sex pollen)

2.6k ONE SHOT / joel x afab!reader / master

Part 2 HERE

WARNINGS: non-con, sex pollen, manhandling, oral f receiving, unsafe P in V sex, anal, reader menstruates. poorly edited. Horror elements apparently lol idk how sex pollen is normally written. 18+

You wake up in a heavy-duty four-wall tent with a burly stranger, both of you in hospital gowns.  You were sedated and you're still groggy when a man in a biohazard suit explains you’re being quarantined in a makeshift lazaretto outside the overcrowded army hospital.  Neither of you were bitten in the chaos earlier, but it’s a precaution.  You'll be monitored for 24 hours, treated with an antifungal fog, then monitored for another 24 hours before they release you.  You sign a release about potential side effects which include psychological and sexual disturbances. 

He doesn’t elaborate, but Joel is clearly disturbed as if it’s not his first time.  

“No,” he says.  “No!" He screams, then begs, "Let me out, or let her out, I don’t care.”

“I’m not authorized to let anyone out.”

“Then put me in my own tent!" 

“I’m afraid we’re far past capacity.  Most units have three.” 

“Can you at least tie me up or somethin’?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

"Then get me away from her!" 

You're offended and confused.  The quarantine man leaves.  For a while, neither of you talk except to say some variation of, “this is bullshit.”  Joel seems genuinely distressed.  You have your own problems to worry about.  You’re at the tail end of your period and don’t have any provisions, not even any underwear. You want to check and see if you’re still bleeding, but not with this stranger in the tent. 

You ask him, “What are you so worried about?” 

He starts to say something but stops himself and says, “I’ll tell you later.” 

"What did I do?" You ask and your temples feel weak. 

He recognizes how mean he must have sounded.  "Nothing at all, sugar.  It's me. I had. . . a bad reaction in the past."  

He changes the subject and tells you he recognizes you.  It hits you - Joel Miller - he used to run a smuggling route with your dad.  Life has hardened Joel into a much stronger, more attractive man since then.  He’s not a big talker, but he occasionally indulges your questions about pre-outbreak life.  You start to really enjoy his company.  For a minute at a time, you manage to forget about the scary circumstances. 

-

There’s one old cot and a blanket.  He says you can have them because he won’t be able to sleep anyway.  You’re not comfortable but you manage to fall asleep.  You wake up shivering and ask if he’ll join you.  He hesitantly agrees, then settles in behind you.  You grab his hand and hold it tight.  You’re gushing between the legs.  You expect a nice red spot on both your gowns in the morning, but that should be the least of your worries.

“Do you think we’re okay?” you whisper. 

“Yeah, we’re okay,” he replies softly in your ear. 

You start sniffling.  “I’m scared.” 

He tightens his arm over you. “I know, sugar. You’re gonna be alright. We’re alright.”  You can hear his heart beating faster.  

As you drift off to sleep, it’s impossible not to notice through your gowns when his dick hardens against you.  He backs off a little but you push your ass back into him and tighten your grip on his hand.  His chest swells against your back and you feel him inhale your hair, but he doesn't make a move and neither do you. 

-

When you wake up, he’s lying on his stomach on the floor using his massive bicep as a pillow.  Before he notices you’re awake, you subtly dip your finger into youreslf to check for your period, and it’s not there.  You were just wet.  You sit up and look at the back of your gown.  Nothing.  When he sees you’re awake and sits up, the fear returns to his eyes.   He says, “I reckon the fog will come soon, now.”  There’s no clock, but he senses it.  He moves his jaw side to side anxiously and his eyes dart around the tent. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He opens his mouth several times then stops before he manages to say it.  “Look, if. . . If I do anything after they fog us. . .  it’s not me, okay?"

"Okay. . .do anything like what?" 

"It . . . The fog has an effect on certain people."  He swallows and looks away.  "Like a sexual effect. It can make you . . . Aggressive."

"Oh. . ."

"Listen.  You can fight me off, do whatever you have to do, okay?" 

"Okay."

Your heart beats faster wondering what's in store.  You can’t imagine it’s that bad. 

-

Finally, one side of the tent ripples as a small, circular portal is opened and something clicks into it.  The tent begins to fill with fog.  The fog smells faintly like a thunderstorm and settles toward the ground before it slowly rises.  Joel backs away from it, sitting in the very corner of the tent as it spreads across the floor.  As the fog continues to pour in, he stands up and turns his face toward the ceiling.  But it reaches him. He tries not to breathe it, with his mouth in his gown, but it’s no use. He squats down, facing away from you.  

He swallows.  “I’m sorry.”  His voice is shaky.  He looks back at you one last time apologetically, then pinches his eyes shut and takes deep breaths. The fog valve is shut.  For a few minutes, you can hardly see him. 

-

You hear the sticky footsteps of his bare feet on the floor, then he gets close enough to see him through the fog, just a few feet away from you.  His whole face has darkened.  And it further darkens as he looks at you in a trance.  He wets his lips like you’re something to eat.  His chest rises and falls with heaving breaths.  

Minutes ago, it was hard to imagine being afraid of him,  but he’s a whole different man now.   You get up from the cot,  walk backwards to the opposite side of the tent, and sit in the corner. 

He crosses the tent in two long, swift strides.  As he looms over you, it’s impossible to ignore the massive tent in his gown or his muscular thighs. 

“Get up,” he demands through the fading fog.  You look down and stay where you are, pulling your gown over your knees, shrinking into yourself.  

“GET UP NOW!” he yells with his mouth wide open, face red, hair bouncing.  

You still don’t.  

"I’m sorry,” he says, then darkens again.  “But you're askin' for it.”  He squats down and gently cups your face.  “Get up.”

You don’t. “You don’t want to do this.”  A last ditch effort:  “I have my period!”   But it only makes him more feral.  You see it in his face right after you say it. 

-

Joel grabs you roughly by both elbows and manhandles you to your feet, then pushes you over to the cot.   He tears your gown off and throws you down on the cot face-up.  He scans you head to toe.  You futilely try to cover yourself with your arms and hands.  You’d feel even more naked without the fog though, which still hangs in the air.  You start to sit up and he forces you back down, pinning you with an arm across your chest.  "Starving,” he growls in your ear, giving you butterflies.  He grabs your hand off your pussy then shoves his own between your legs and the butterflies swarm to your core.  You try and fail to keep your legs shut tight but the pressure of your thighs around his hand feels far too good between your legs.

“Joel, stop,” you plead. “You’re not yourself.”  You beg him to stop, but you're getting wetter by the minute.  His intensity turns you on. 

“No use, darlin’.”  He inserts his middle finger and breathes heavily.  “Nothin’s stoppin’ this." 

You still try, though.  You thrash and kick, then he grabs you by the arms so hard his fingers dig deep into your muscles, practically to the bone. “Sit still, damnit.”  He softens only for a moment.  “Don't wanna have to hurt you.” Then he darkens again.

Your face gets  cold and you swallow.  He kneels at the foot of the cot and uses your thighs to violently yank you toward him so your ass is at the end.  He pries your legs open and holds them that way with his massive hands.  His mouth latches onto your pussy and you’re flooded with a rush of arousal as the hook of his nose begins to massage your clit.  He really digs in, pressing his lips hard into you, thrusting his tongue inside you.  A ball of tension gathers in your traitorous core and you twitch.  

He’s grunting “Mm” as he sucks and laps.  You squirm and he forces you still again and continues, ravenous to consume you.  He looks up with black eyes, and the animal between your legs terrifies you.  He intensifies his eating and you feel it coming.  The next time he thrusts his tongue inside you, his nose drags up your clit.  You moan and your spine arches as you see stars. He stops and watches you unravel with his head still firmly planted between your legs.  Your eyes water with your pulsations as you stare up at the ceiling of the tent. He lifts his head and a lighter patch of his beard is just barely tinged with your period.  He dug it out of you.  He inserts his fingers and you clench around him with the aftershocks.  You close your eyes and catch your breath.

-

He must stand up, because before you know it, you feel his tip at your entrance.   Your body wants him inside you. You could make it easy on him, but you don’t want him to fuck you and regret it.  It’s not just your body – you’re realizing you want him, too.  You may be getting ahead of yourself, but it’s the product of a near-death experience, of being sealed in a tent with him for 24 hours, and of getting head within an inch of your life. The perfect storm. If you’re going to have him, it has to be under different circumstances or he may never want to do it again.

He begins to push in. 

“Joel, no!” You squirm and thrash.  

He sighs.  “You're just gonna tucker yourself out like that.” 

You still give it your best try, but he’s right.   You’re no match for his strength. He overpowers you, pins you down with his weight, then shoves his thick cock into you with a grunt.  Your wet little hole can hardly take him.  You yelp as his unforgiving girth splits you open and fills you up.  When his length retreats, you try to push him off, but you can’t.  “You’re takin' it one way or another, darlin’.” 

He bottoms out with a guttural roar like he’s charging into battle. He pounds you brutally, slamming to the hilt each time.  It hurts but it isn’t long before it starts to feel okay, then good, and then, the delicious stretch of his girth feels like something you never knew you needed.  After a minute or two, you stop squirming and thrashing. It's happening, and you might as well enjoy it. 

When you stop fighting, he takes his weight off you and stands at the foot of the cot, your thighs in his hands, pulling you back on his dick as his hips snap into you. His hair is messy and his face and neck are splotched red.  His big arms bulge out from under the gown.  You’ve never seen such intensity on anyone’s face before.  

After a few minutes of him pistoning into you, you feel another climax building.  You whimper and he rails you even harder, sweating, grunting, growling.  When you come, it’s a burst unlike anything you've ever felt. You hear yourself wailing as he fucks you through it.  Your walls are still contracting around his cock when he grabs onto your hips for dear life and plunges into you with more force than ever.  

You realize he’s going to come inside and yell, “No!”  You try to get away.  You try to fight back, but he’s too strong and determined.  Rage falls across his face.  A groan rips out of his throat as his cock erupts into you, pulsing massively, extending your climax longer than you thought possible.  It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before.  

Your whole body is spent.  When he’s finished coming, he slides out of you and you lie there limp with your eyes closed. It’s quiet for a minute. The fog has settled more. 

He groans softly. Then, "I'm sorry. . ."  You open your eyes and sit up. You reach for him  at the foot of the cot, but he backs away.  It seems like he can't look at you. His eyes are tearful.  

"It's okay.  Look at me, Joel. It's okay."

It's quiet for a minute.

-

"God damnit,” he whispers. He covers himself and when your eyes follow his hand, it’s clear he’s hard again or it never went away.   The fog has faded enough that it seems he at least has the wherewithal to jack off instead.  "Close your eyes," he says as he turns away and wraps his hand around his cock.  You study his eyes and they’re dark, but not as dark as they were. You lie down with your eyes shut and listen to his breath and the squish of his hand around his cock, wet with your slick.

The  rhythmic squish gets closer and closer.   You open your eyes to the darkest look on his face.  He’s standing there at the foot of the cot, gown pushed up out of the way again as he strokes his stiff, imposing cock. 

“Flip over,” he demands but gives you no time to comply.  He grabs you under the arms.

“Okay, okay,” you comply and he forces you down on your stomach.  

He wedges the tip of his cock between your cheeks, aligning himself at your asshole.  You’re terrified.  You beg, "no, wait," but he's not there anymore.  It's not really him. 

He plunges into your tight, virgin hole and you yelp in shock. His hands on your hips lift your ass in the air and you bury your head in your arm, biting your own skin as he yanks you back into him, making your ass flush with his pelvis.  You’re stuffed full of him, fuller than you’ve ever felt, even fuller than when he was in your pussy.  

He pummels you with abandon and your eyes well up in tears.  You're mortified, you've never done this before, and you have so many fears – is he going to ruin you?  Is there going to be a mess?  But each time he buries his length in your ass, it feels better and your fears fade into pleasure. The longer he pounds you, the better it feels.  It feels surprisingly good, much better than you ever thought it would.  The tent seems to echo with his grunts and the slap of skin.  

Another orgasm is brewing as he pounds your guts.  It builds faster this time.  He grunts louder, then your whole body is seized by the deepest, most powerful climax.  You whimper, then your whimper turns into a groan as your ass spasms and your pussy clenches around nothing.  

And then he pulses inside you, filling up another hole.  By the time he's through with you, you're filled to the brim with him.  He slides out and you turn around. 

He stumbles backwards in horror at what he's done. 

“I’m sorry, sugar.  I’m so sorry."

-

Part 2 HERE

Thank you for reading and engaging! Might wanna follow me if you like this because my posts are getting reported and might not show up in the tags.

-

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339  @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro

[bonny-kookoo]

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | Welcome Home [Request]

Jungkook can't remember the last time you've been apart for so long. And with you gone, he might just go crazy- or make odd spontaneous decisions.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, they're so goofy, so much love, smut, lube? is that a warning?, bare sex (MC has an IUD), Jungkook got a haircut bc his girl was not around to make him contemplate his decisions before making them

Requested by: Miriwe on Patreon

Length: 2k words

-> Masterlist

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"I'm gone three days and you're already going crazy apparently." You laugh as you walk into the living room, where Jungkook is sitting on the couch, not having heard you walk in it seems like.

He immediately pauses his game to jump over the back of the furniture, almost tripping as he runs to you, picking you up to hold you close.

"Of course I went crazy!" He laughs, putting you down to your feet again to kiss you. "Had to spend three days in an empty bed without my fiancé." He laughs into his kisses, and you giggle. "Why didn't you tell me you were back? I would've picked you up from the airport." He whines a bit childishly, while you just shrug.

"Nah, would've caused too much of a commotion." You deny, reminding him of the fact that he's always causing some chaos whenever he's seen in public. "But putting that aside, when did you buzz it off?" You ask, fingers curiously running over the shaven sides of his head.

"Yesterday, actually." He chuckles. "My hair was getting in the way." He shrugs.

"So you decided 'oh yeah, I'm just gonna get even hotter while my girlfriend is away with her parents' like, excuse me?" You scold playfully.

"Fiancé, first of all, and I guess that already answers the question if it suits me." He laughs, happily correcting you in your own title.

"Ah, I can't believe I'm gonna get married to you." You swoon teasingly, smacking his chest once. "Now lemme go, I'm hungry." You say- but he's not letting you go at all. If anything, he pulls you even closer to himself.

"I'm hungry too." He tells you instead. You look at him in confusion.

"Okay? Then let me cook, idiot." You say, but he shakes his head.

"Nop." He denies, before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom, hand loudly smacking your ass.

"Jeon Jungkook, no!" You laugh. "Please, I'm so jetlagged from the flight-" You complain, but he lets you down gently on the unmade bed, sheets unruly from his nightly rest. He's not really been sleeping well without you home- the three days of not having you around truly reminding him of just how much he needs you in his life.

Not just to keep order, but in general.

As odd as it sounds, he even caught himself multiple times the first day calling out to you, just to remember you're not home. His mind expected you in bed, in the kitchen, in the living room, every single time he'd enter the room- and the kitchen felt lonely, suffocating, with no company but the buzzing fridge and ticking cat-shaped clock on the wall. His house suddenly felt.. bland.

Especially on the second day, when he came out of the shower just to find the bed cold and empty, he found himself sitting on the edge of it, looking through pictures of you and him on his phone, browsing his gallery for hours until he finally fell asleep. It was a reminder, those few days. A reminder that he needs you, that you're a part of his life he can't really bear to not have around anymore.

A reminder that he made the right decision in asking you to marry him, entering the final stage of your relationship.

"I'll do all the work baby." He purrs, crawling over you as you stretch your limbs, visibly relaxing in the familiar home once more. "How was your trip?" He wonders, and you laugh, his hands helping you out of your sweater.

"Kook, I love you, but I'm not talking about my goddamn parents when we're about to have sex." You complain, and he chuckles, nodding.

"Alright, you got a point." He admits, pulling down your pants and socks to kiss up your leg. "I missed you so much." He hums against your skin, and you smile, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair.

"So much so you buzzed your hair off?" You laugh, and he nods, teasingly biting at your thigh.

"Exactly." He agrees. "Would've gone bald if you'd stayed away a day longer." He says, lips traveling up your stomach before his hands cup your chest, running over to the back of your body to unhook your bra.

"Oh no!" You jokingly exclaim. "But honestly I think your face makes every haircut work. Even that Dora-the-Explorer situation you had a year back." You say, making him roll his eyes as he throws your bra down carelessly.

"Stop bringing that up." He complains, and you laugh brightly so.

"But it's funny!" You tell him, before he bites at your chest. "Hey, stop biting!" You giggle.

"Stop biting~!" He mimics you, before he moves to kiss your neck. "As if you don't love it." He purrs.

"Caught me." You reply, legs moving already to wrap around him. "Now get naked, nerd." You flirt, and he can't help the laugh that escapes him.

"Can we be romantic at least once?" He whines, leaning back to rid himself of his shirt and pants.

"No, you'd burn the house down with those yankee-candles you got." You threaten, and he rolls his eyes yet again, opening the bedside drawer to search for a small bottle of scented lube, just in case.

"You really have no trust in me, baby." He shakes his head, putting the little plastic bottle on the side for now as he moves to pull your panties from your legs. "What if I used electrical ones?" He proposes. "Turn on some music. Cigarettes after sex- like, the band, not me smoking." He corrects.

"Obviously." You hum. "I'd leak your nudes if you smoked inside the house." You sigh, and he looks at you for a moment.

"That's a joke, right?" He asks, and you shrug, smiling at him. "That's a joke. You're joking." He states once more, but still, you don't answer. The funny part is that deep down, he actually believes you would indeed do that. You're a wildcard after all- he never  really knows if what you say is a joke or an actual fact you state.

Like when you said that he was fine accompanying his friend to his bachelor party, which was held at a nightclub, naked dancers included. You'd simply told him to have fun, but eat at home- and while for a moment or two, he didn't really know what you meant, he realized it soon after. You had no issue taking a look- hell, you constantly told him that some of the other racers were 'pretty hot', but he knows you'd never go after anyone but him. You might get your appetite up, yes-

but you eat at home.

"Jungkook you've never even sent me nudes you idiot!" You laugh after a moment of watching him clearly contemplating his life-choices up until now, finally realizing that you're right. "Or did you sent someone else some, huh?" You suddenly threaten, foot against his abs keeping him away from you while you glare.

"Absolutely not." He shakes his head immediately. "You can bet your pretty ass on that." He says, as you remove your leg from him, hands now reaching out, inviting him back in. "Only got you-" He hums towards you, kissing your lips hungrily. "Only need you." He finishes, and you sigh, hands on his arms.

"Missed you." You admit. "Couldn't sleep well at all." You say, and he smiles.

"Me neither." He shakes his head. "Thought about you way too much." Jungkook tells you, while his hand travels between your legs, touch reviving your soul it feels like as he works you up.

"We're so in love, it's actually kinda disgusting." You laugh, and he joins in on that.

"Nah." He denies. "We're just the definition of love." He shrugs, curling his fingers inside you, making you arch your back.

"Jungkook please-" You whine. "Stop teasing me, I'm way too horny now!" You complain, and he grins, moving to stroke his length with the hand still covered in your arousal.

He's just as impatient, but he also knows he needs to prep you well. Years of being in a relationship with you also comes with in-depth knowledge of your body, and how to love you just right. You might not realize it sometimes, but he knows that if he doesn't pay good attention to detail, you'll be sore tomorrow-

and he plans on making up for those three days, just to remind you what you've been missing.

He reaches for the tiny bottle on the bedside table to squeeze some of the clear liquid out, making sure to make it as comfortable as possible for you, before he lines himself up with your entrance, moving your legs up a little to pull you closer. It's been something you've been quite insecure about- having refused to admit to him for months that he's packing a bit too much for you to handle without any help sometimes, and he's felt bad that you thought you couldn't tell him. Back then, he'd been insecure himself- with no prior knowledge about anything regarding sex, you've been both a little lost in translation on some occasions.

There's been more than a handful of awkward moments during your times together- and by now, you're both comfortable to the point where nothing is weird any longer.

The sweet smell of sweet strawberries fills the air faintly as he pushes himself in, sighing in bliss at the familiar feel of your body welcoming him. "Good?" He asks you, and you nod, making him tap your nose so you open your eyes again. "Really?" He asks again, and you move a bit now, nodding. It's the confirmation he needed to start moving, leaning back on his heels to roll his hips forwards, your lower body resting over his thighs as he keeps you elevated like that with his hands holding your legs. You've got your arms relaxed into the pillows over your head, eyes closed as your chest sways with every thrust he delivers.

He loves having you back. Not just your body- but you, in general.

"I wanna come with you next time." He tells you, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs. "Don't care if they like me or not." He growls, never slowing down his pace.

"Jungkookie~!" You whine, before laughing. "What did I say literally- like- twenty minutes ago?" You complain, and he laughs too, nodding.

"Sorry, sorry." He apologizes, letting go of your legs to lean over you, kissing you once more. It's the only way he knows he'll shut up for long enough- there's just so much rushing through his head, everything that's happened in those three days trying to break out his mouth just to talk to you- because he can talk to you now. You're back home, and he just missed you so fucking much.

Now, of course you talked over the phone daily, sure. But it's just not the same. It's not close enough.

Right now, he's out of breath, forced to part from you just a little, leaning his face into the crook of your neck as he presses his pelvis into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close, arms around his neck keeping him from parting from you. "I love you so much." He hums against your skin, picking up his pace, exhaling through his nose as his jaw clenches, orgasm approaching quickly. His hand assists you by finding your most sensitive spot, pushing you over the edge so he can let go as well, your core clenching around his length to keep him in, milk him for all he's got.

He's out of breath, and so are you- his body simply laying down close to you, moving you around to lay over him, still inside you. "Kook, I'm sticky-" You whine, but he just smiles, hands smacking your butt. "Jungkook!" You scold, laughing, and he simply reaches for your face, to peck your lips.

Twice. Because once is just never enough.

[hotmentransformed]

Hollywood Magic

In the bustling backstage of the prestigious Oscars ceremony, nerves were running high. Among the frenzy of stagehands, makeup artists, and celebrities, stood Alex, a wide-eyed production assistant fresh out of film school. It was his first gig at such a grand event, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. He had bought a fresh tuxedo for the event and felt professional and ready to start his new career.

Throughout the evening, Alex darted from one task to another, ensuring everything ran like clockwork. He meticulously checked seating arrangements, coordinated with the stage crew, and even fetched coffee for the stars. Despite the chaos around him, Alex felt a surge of exhilaration with each passing moment, relishing the special opportunity to be a part of Hollywood's biggest night.

But as the ceremony progressed smoothly, tension began to mount backstage when one of the scheduled presenters failed to show up for their award presentation. Panic swept through the crowded corridors as frantic whispers filled the air. Producers frantically made calls to find a replacement, but everyone was either unavailable or unwilling to present. With no one else available at such short notice, all eyes turned to Alex.

Without warning, an envelope was thrust into his hands, and he was ushered onto the stage. His heart raced as he realized the gravity of the situation. This was his moment—a chance to step onto the grand stage of the Oscars and make his mark in the entertainment industry. Usually, the honor was only reserved for the most iconic of stars: how lucky he was to be just an average Joe, given an opportunity rarely afforded to even some of the most famous celebrities. As Alex approached the microphone, the weight of the moment bore down on him like a heavy cloak. The sea of faces in the audience blurred as his nerves threatened to overwhelm him.

Alex's heart pounded in his chest as he felt an inexplicable surge of warmth coursing through his body. At first, he thought it must be from the stage lights, but it grew stronger and more electrifying. It started as a subtle tingling but soon evolved into an intense sensation, like a thousand needles pricking his skin.

His muscles tensed and bulged beneath his clothes, a strange pressure building within him. Alex's eyes widened in shock as he felt the fabric of his brand-new suit strain against his expanding frame. The audience's murmurs of anticipation turned into gasps of surprise as they witnessed the spectacle unfolding before them. First, it was his arms, as if sculpted from marble, that began to swell with newfound strength. His biceps and triceps rippled beneath the fabric of his shirt, stretching it to its limits, and eventually ripping his sleeves. Then, his chest expanded, pushing against the material as if eager to break free. Each breath seemed to inflate his torso further, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

As Alex's transformation continued, his shoulders broadened, each muscle defined with chiseled precision. His back rippled with power, the fabric of his shirt straining against the force of his expanding physique. Even his legs, once hidden beneath his trousers, began to bulge with raw strength, threatening to burst through the fabric at any moment.

Despite his best efforts to resist, Alex couldn't help but flex his muscles, which expanded and tore free from the confines of his shirt and jacket, a mixture of embarrassment and pride washing over him as he unwittingly showed off his newfound form to the world. The audience's laughter only fueled his humiliation, but still, he couldn't stop himself.

With each involuntary flex, Alex's body seemed to take on a life of its own, moving with a grace and power that he had never known. His embarrassment gave way to a sense of awe as he marveled at the sheer magnitude of his transformation. But just as he began to revel in his newfound strength, disaster struck. With a sudden rip, the fabric of his pants gave way, leaving him standing on stage in the nude. His cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment as he hastily covered himself with the envelope he had been given to present the award.

Standing there dumbfounded and twice his previous size, he heard an announcer on the speakers: “And now, presenting the Academy Award for Best Costume Design, the one, the only: John Cena!”

[pvrkacciosan]

Love on fire

A/n: this one was written by my twin, @dreamiezpsycho, she will probably write a few more, so expect to hear more from her in the future

Synopsis: Charles is unable to even start the race when he discovers your life is on the line.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Fem!reader

Warnings; house fire, panic, detail of injury, mention of death

Word count: 3.5K

You and Charles had always had a very understanding relationship. Had always been very open with each other. And it was established early on that you were extremely bad at replying to text and remembering to message him back. So he currently wasn't concerned that you hadn't replied to his most recent ones.

You had been at the track this morning but had left a little over an hour ago to finalise the paper for your house, having sold it to someone. You and Charles still lived separately, but you were currently in the midst of forming a plan to move in with him.

Most of your very important stuff already being at his house meant you only had the last bits and pieces to pack and collect from your place. Maybe sell some of the furniture you no longer needed.

His current assumption was that you were too engrossed in something to respond to him, so he thought nothing of it knowing you'll get back to him eventually.

He pulled his focus back to his busy schedule. He had about 10 minutes before he was due to be pulled into another meeting, and wanted a couple minutes of peace before he was dragged out of the comfort of his room.

Inside the room he could hide from the chaos of the world outside, taking five minutes to breath. But the funny thing was the chaos soon materialise in his room in the form of his brother, Arthur.

At first Charles was ready to kick him out too content with the silence and comfort of his own thought. But he soon realised having someone to talk with wasn't the worst thing. Arthur situated himself in the chair opposite Charles and they fell into easy and light topics of conversation.

Charles had a habit of silencing his phone in his brief time spent in his room, so he never saw the frantic message from his eldest brother and friends.

So it was a shock when Lorenzo burst through the door, making both Charles and Arthur jump in their seats. Their eldest brother had been followed by a Ferrari worker who looked like he had been trying to stop his brother from coming in entirely.

Lorenzo looked frantic, heavy breaths left his chest and sweat dotted his forehead. He held his phone in one hand and supported himself on the doorframe with the other. His eyes instantly found Charles.

He went to say something when the Ferrari worker trued to push Lorenzo out the room by his chest. Charles didn't recognise the man, who was probably new. But his hand on his eldest brother chest trying to force him out the room only seemed to anger Charles.

" Dude let him in, he's my brother" at Charles's words the worker froze. He dropped his hand from Lorenzo's chest but still looked like he would prefer if the older Leclerc would leave the room. He looked at Charles again, nodded before he walled out. He had only vanished when Lorenzo started speaking.

"Have you heard from Y/n?" Lorenzo's words sent a cold chill down his spine. It wasn't uncommon for his brothers to question her whereabouts. She was always with Charles now and that meant she had gotten really close to his family. They loved her, sometimes he thinks it's greater than the love they have for him. But Lorenzo's tone told him this wasn't one of those times they asked out of curiosity. This was urgent. Panicked.

Charles couldn't seem to form words, they got all caught up in his throat. He manged to shake his head as he stood, about to give a verbal response when another familiar face appeared at the door to his room.

"Why the hell is your phone on silent?!" Pierre questioned, he almost sounded angry as he too held his phone in his hand. His race suit hanging around his waist. It was obvious he had run here as well, how he had gotten past the Ferrari workers this close to a race Charles didn't ask. He also didn't answer Pierre's' question.

"What is going on?" He had clearly missed something big and almost held his breath waiting for the answer. Arthur had now risen up from his chair and stood a foot behind Charles. Also looking equally as confused.

"Have you really not heard from Y/n?" Lorenzo asked again. Just to make sure Charles grabbed his phone from the desk. Still he hadn't had anything from you. For some reason this made his heart clench. Panic rose without warning.

"No I haven't. Now will someone tell me what's going on?" Charles felt like he couldn't breath, Pierre and Lorenzo looked between each other. They didn't know how to tell him the news. Charles could see it on their faces.

He felt a light tapping on his shoulder the same time Arthur whispered his name softly. Charles spun to see his younger brothers eye on the screen. They held disbelief and pain in them. Charles didn't even wait he simply snatched the phone from Arthur's hands.

On the screen was a News article. It had only been put up ten minutes ago, and it was continuously being updated. It was last updated two minutes ago. Upon reading the head line Charles whole being froze.

MONACO APARTMENT BURNT DOWN. THREE CONFIRMED DEAD.

He continued to read and the more the words seemed to blur. He felt like his world was falling apart. And it did when he read the last line.

" That's Y/n's address" He looked up from the screen in the hopes that his brother would deny it. He waited for anyone to tell him it was a joke. But no one did. No one said a word. The silence screamed at him. He needed to get out of this room.

He said nothing to his brothers or best friend as he shoved his way past them, grabbing his car keys and walking out the door. He didn't bother to respond to any of the mechanics or staff as he charged past them. He couldn't respond to them, you being the only thing in his mind.

He didn't even know where he was going. Only that he had to get to you. You needed his help, he knew you weren't one of the three dead. You couldn't be, you simply had forgotten to text him back. That was it. You were always forgetting to respond to his messages. He wouldn't accept the alternative. Knew it couldn't be true.

It was Lorenzo who caught up to Charles first. He grabbed a hold of his arm, forcing him to a stop. Charles spun to look at him.

"Charles stop. You're not thinking." Lorenzo was panting heavily. Had he been going that fast? "You can't just leave. We don't even know how badly her apartment was affected." His brother tried to reason.

"Enzo, it said burnt to the ground. That tells me all I need to know" He went to turn away again, attempting to find his car so he can drive to you. Lorenzo only tightened his grip.

"You can't just leave. What about the race? What will you tell the team?" His brother's words went in one ear and out the other. He couldn't think about racing when he didn't know if you were alive or dead. They couldn't expect him to race in this state. He could feel the panic taking root in his chest. It wouldn't be safe for him to drive a car.

Charles hadn't noticed that Pierre was standing next to Lorenzo until he started to speak.

"I'll tell them what happened. They'll understand. Go. I'll cover for you" Charles had never been more grateful for his best friend. He nodded at Pierre once before he was turning in the direction of his car, only to be stopped by Arthur this time.

"You're not driving" Arthur claimed as he snatched the keys from his fingers. Charles didn't even try to argue with his younger brother as the three Leclerc brother made their way towards his car.

Charles had never known torture like the kind he experienced in the drive to your apartment complex. The drive had never felt this long. But the smoke billowing above the buildings and the sirens going off in the distance only added to his agitation.

"Arthur, go faster" his younger brother heeded his request and pushed down more on the accelerator. The car picked up its pace. Racing through the streets so fast it couldn't be legal. Lorenzo in the back of the car had a steady hand on Charles shoulder.

The car was stopped two streets over from the apartment complex being blocked off by stopped cars. Fire fighters and police everywhere. Charles didn't even wait for the car to fully pull to a stop before he was out and running.

He doesn't remember the run through those last two streets separating him from you. And as he made the last turn onto the street he came to a screeching halt. He could only stare at the space where your apartment should be. The building was still smoking but that was the only evidence that a fire had existed. He couldn't yet make out if there was anything left after the fire, not with the amount of smoke still hanging in the air.

His thought became frantic as his mind forced his body into action again. He began moving through the crowds of service workers. He didn't seen any familiar faces. His search became one of desperation the longer he went without seeing your face.

He passed many people is various stages of distress. Some were crying in pain other held loved ones. Many were being treated by paramedics. In the back of an ambulance he finally saw a face he recognised and he raced towards it.

"Juliette" At the sound of her name being called the girl turned around. An oxygen mask sat over her mouth and nose. Her skin was covered in soot but she looked relatively unharmed.

"Charles?" You neighbour stared in momentary confusion as her eyes landed on him. Juliette was the girl who lived in the apartment next to yours. The two of you had become close friends, so she knew all about your formula one boyfriend.

"Are you alright?" He couldn't stop thinking about your safety but he had to make sure Juliette was alright as well. She nodded slightly. "Do you know where Y/n is?" This time she shook her head.

"I'm sorry Charles. I never saw her leave the building" The girl chocked back a sob as the words left her lips. The implication behind her words being too much for her after the already traumatic experience.

Without another word Charles spun back towards where the building should be. He felt helpless. He didn't know what to do. He heard Juliette call his name again, but he was already move further through the crowd. He refused to believe you had been one the three dead from the fire.

It began to feel like he had walked around the areas five times. And each time his search for you left him empty handed. There was a momentary clearing where the frantic paramedics and police officers seemed to walk around him unaware and unfazed of his presence entirely. Charles took this second to stop, he allowed his eyes to travel while his body remained stationery. He moved in a circular motion scanning over every face as he went. This felt hopeless. He felt hopeless. That was until he heard it.

He froze.

It was possible he was hearing things, but he still spun towards the sounds. Trying to pin point it's location. And there is was. There you were.

You were sitting in the back of an ambulance, hooked up to machines and oxygen mask sitting over your beautiful face. Your skin was black from the soot, it covering every inch of exposed skin. The white of your eyes stood out more then usual. But they zoned in on him none the less.

"Charles?" You said again. The fire had cause so much confusion you weren't sure if you were seeing your boyfriend or not. He shouldn't be here, having many responsibilities at the track. But as he turned you got a clear view of your boyfriend's face. "Charles" you cried loudly.

Charles watched as you unhooked yourself from the machines. And jumped from the back of the ambulance. Only when you were running did his body move on its own accord.

The two of you rushing through the crowd to reach over. When you did, your bodies collided. But you didn't feel any pain. Only relief. Charles wrapped himself around you, protecting you inside his arms. You squeezed back. You felt as he planted kiss after kiss on the top of your head. Your hair probably stunk on smoke but Charles didn't seem to care.

Charles pulled away first, keeping you at arms length as he looked you over. Checking for any visible injuries. When he found none his eyes finally met yours once more. His hand coming up to wipe away the tears you didn't realise had fallen.

"Your alright." He spoke. The words more of a reassurance to himself. The loud cry left you and he pulled you back into him.

He simply held you as you cried in his arms. The emotions of the day making their way out of you in the form of body rocking sobs.

"I'm so sorry" as you said the words through gasping breath Charles only looked on in confusion. Why were you apologising? " I should of text you. You must have been so worried, I'm so sorry"

"No no no, Ma chérie. Do not apologise, none of this is your fault" He pulled you into his chest again, bringing his hand up to stroke you hair down on the back of your head. Soothing your sobs.

Over your head he could see the paramedics who had been treating you making their way through crowd towards where you both stood. They carried oxygen with them.

It was then he realised you might not be injured physically but smoke can do just as much damage. He pushed you away slightly so he could look at your face.

"Come on, we better get to back to the ambulance so they can make sure you're alright." On cue the adrenaline seemed to wear off and your knees buckled. Almost as if they recalled how fatigued they were.

Charles reaction time being as quick as it was meant he caught you before you hit the ground.

"I've got you Chérie" Charles picked you up and began following the paramedics back towards the ambulance. He placed you down on the ledge by the doors.

He watched in concern as the paramedics placed the mask back over your face and began hooking you up to machines again. There was now a constant beep as they monitored your heart.

Only now did he take in how tired you looked. This worried him as he watch the paramedics work around you. Asking how you feel and stuff. He stood a little out the way with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched their every movement around you. Occasionally asked questions to what they were doing and why it was being done. They were mostly checking to see how much the smoke had damaged your lungs. And if you needed further medical attention.

It wasn't long before Lorenzo appeared. His face stuck around the side of the opened door to the ambulance. His face dropped into one of relief as he saw you were alright.

"Thank god" He said. You looked up sheepishly at the older Leclerc. " You gave us quite the scare" He chuckled lightly, but he smiled down at you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to" you said. You began to play with your fingers when Charles took your hands in his.

"Where is Arthur?" Charles said as he turned to his elder brother. At his words you looked up at them both.

"Arthur is here too?" You gaped at them, shocked at the commotion you had caused. You couldn't imagine the amount of trouble Charles was gonna get in for this. Leaving like that before a race.

"Yeah, you had us all worried Chérie." He squeezed your hand in reassurance again, running his thumb over the back of your hand. "But where is he anyways?"

"He stayed with your very expensive car. I'll go and call him now to let him know everyone is alright" with that Lorenzo walked off somewhere to the left of the ambulance. On cue one of the paramedics turned to you with a slight smile on her face.

"Alright Y/n, we are comfortable with your stats. You don't need to come in, but if anything gets worse and you have any concerns don't be scared to come in to get check out." You nodded along with her words as her colleague began unplugging you from all the machines. "Have you got somewhere to stay tonight?" She asked you. Before you could even form the words your boyfriend beat you to it.

"Yeah she does. She's staying with me" the paramedic smiled between the two of you and nodded. Comfortable with the answer, she stated you were free to go and to simply take is easy.

Getting up you practically hung onto Charles side, who had an arm around you. Ready to catch you if you were to fall. He kept glancing over at you in concern.

"Charles I'm alright. I just really need sleep" He nodded at your words but didn't seem convinced. But a small smirk did work its way onto his face.

"You know, Chérie if you wanted to move in earlier. You should of just said so" you almost stopped and laughed at his words. The events of the day made you want to laugh as well as cry. Everything was so out of whack. "Was that too soon?" He questioned and you nodded. He smiled slightly as he pulled you closer to kiss you head.

"Come on Chérie. Let get you home to shower and get into bed" He said home.

And you liked the sound of that.

.

.

.

Taglist: @80sloverry @unofficial-journalist

[pancake-breakfast]

This panel stuck out to me when it showed up in TriMax Chapter 3, but honestly, I wasn't quite sure what to make of it at the time. Or, rather, I wasn't sure where Nightow might be going with it.

Meryl is trying to defend her time with Vash as not being a that bad, but then her coworker (amazingly named Karen) calls her out, telling her that, as a woman, there's no way Meryl could have been happy having her life constantly threatened while running around with Vash.

My first instinct is to defend Meryl, to shoot back at Karen that what defines Karen's life may not define Meryl's, and Meryl might be the more adventurous type who genuinely doesn't mind the danger. And besides, having one's life constantly under threat is psychologically wearing on anyone regardless of gender. So shouldn't she just shut her yap?

But then these words come up again later in the chapter. For (what I think is) the first time in the series, Meryl finds herself with an actual loaded gun leveled directly at her head by a person who fully intends to pull the trigger. She has no known help in sight, and the gunman calling her foolish makes her remember what Karen said.

And Meryl just... closes her eyes, and she thinks about all the danger she's been in with everyone from Gosef to E.G. Mine. She thinks about the Fifth Moon Incident. And she thinks about Vash.

But she doesn't think of gunman Vash. She doesn't think of Vash in a panic telling her to run away from danger, of Vash fleeing for his life over and over and over again.

She thinks of him smiling.

Not only is he smiling, but compared to the darkness and chaos of the other panels, he's a beacon of light in those memories. (You can almost hear the tense, dark music that's been flowing through the scene break into something lighter at his appearance.) And that image of him smiling kindly, still striving for love and peace, grows to dominate her mindscape.

It would be easy to write this off as her growing crush on Vash, or as her seeing him telling her that it's alright and dealing with things like being hunted and having your life regularly threatened aren't actually that bad, that perhaps these things appeal to a sense of adventure and/or what makes life worth living. After all, we've seen similar messages come up in similar fashions in so many other anime and manga series.

But that's not what Meryl concludes from it. Instead, she thinks about Vash's smiling face and concludes her coworker is right. There isn't a way for she, Meryl, to truly be happy when she's constantly getting thrown into these situations.

Her conclusion doesn't end there, though. She doesn't look at the situation and go, "Well, I guess it's time for me, a girl, to throw in the towel so I can pursue a happier existence."

Instead, she concludes that she has to keep doing this sort of thing anyway regardless of any danger or fulfillment.

She realizes that what she dealt with for the time she followed Vash around was crazy and terrifying and, yes, life-threatening. And she realizes that this is how Vash lives all the time. Unlike her, it's not something he has the option to just tap out of when the mood suits. As we were shown in the previous two chapters, Vash genuinely can't just make a new life or career choice or whatever and just... hunt for his own happiness instead. Chaos is going to follow him unbidden wherever he goes.

But he keeps going. And he doesn't just keep going, but through it all he keeps smiling kindly at others, offers them encouragement, and despite all he's seen and been through, keeps trying harder to work for a world with more love and peace. Not because it's safe or happy or appeals to a sense of adventure. It's none of those things. He continues on this path because it's the right thing to do.

Meryl realizes the same thing is true for her. Accepting another assignment from the company to follow Vash around isn't going to bring her the kind of life Karen suggested was ideal. In fact, it's more likely that following in Vash's footsteps (whether figuratively or literally) is going to end up with Meryl in additional stressful situations with her life on the line far more than is truly reasonable for anyone (regardless of gender). It isn't necessarily going to bring her happiness. It certainly isn't going to bring her peace.

But it's the right thing to do, which makes it the only path forward for her, and so she'll embrace it despite all the struggles it brings.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Guessing Game

My lovely little Ghost pregnancy not short Drabble.

Word Count: 7.7k

- - -

Moments of silence with your husband were usually tranquil and serene in the comforts of your own home. It was rare for the aura between you both to be fueled with unbridled tension and hesitation to even breathe properly.

The two of you said nothing for the longest time in the sanctuary of your living room, on your comfortable couch. In the silent man’s hand, he held a test, which he proceeded to set down on the coffee table in front of him.

Positive.

A little pink sign on a tiny screen, bright as day, staring at you both like a sore thumb.

That’s supposed to be a good thing, Positives usually mean good things. Happy, joyful, erratic, exciting. Good.

Positives however, can also be scary, terrifying, petrifying.

Your heart sank deep into the bottom of your stomach, a dreadful ache following suit that lingered as every minute passed in this silence.

You hated it, but you didn't know what to say.

It started off as an odd feeling, just a couple of days ago. A bit of dizziness in the morning, a slight queasiness after, but nothing more. You blamed it on allergies, or a migraine due to lack of proper sleep, anything but that single, simple idea of what it could’ve been.

The signs grew more unquestionably obvious with every day passed, the sickness, the shift in your emotions, the sinking feeling as the possibility grew more and more intense with each passing hour.

You went out during a grocery run, and couldn't stop yourself from arriving at a pharmacy, heading towards that one particular aisle containing just what you needed.

You didn’t even know when or how-

You stopped yourself right there. You’d be an absolute fool if you considered finishing that thought for a sentence.

You know how it happened, of course you knew. Question was, you couldn’t exactly remember when. It sort of happened quite often.

Just for good measure, you had also bought three other boxes, which were currently jumbled in your bathroom sink, each revealing the same exact message.

A part of you, a tiny part of you, buried underneath all the stomach burning anxiety and dread of this new onset reality was kind of delighted, excited in fact, bringing forth upon you a wish you never realized you’d forgotten about. One you believed you had no right to have after the life you lived.

To have a baby with the man you loved, truly loved. A fair amount of the population’s absolute dream.

An honest, beautiful dream, but for all you knew, it was only yours. At one point, not once did you ever think if it was his dream as well.

That was until a few weeks ago once it was brought up, during a late-night discussion in bed.

“How do you feel about a baby?”

An honest, curious question had never made the man stiffer in his life, feeling his hands on you grow stiff like dead branches before he released you, catching you completely by surprise.

The both of you were stable, financially at least. Emotionally however, all that bustled through Simon’s head were the great cons that outweighed the pros.

An honest, simple question turned into a forty-minute discussion over both your heavy worries and concerns. His concerns, his fears, his terror of bringing a version of himself to this dangerous, unpredictable world of chaos and death, bred by the man who enjoyed creating such.

You reassured him constantly, by then just wishing to end the topic then and there. An honest question grew too harshly awkward, painfully dragged out at the realization that Simon may not have wanted children at all.

It was a thorn you shouldn’t have pricked your finger on, so you were content to step back and let the topic go.

Simon’s face, brows contorted with distress still, realized your ache at this discussion. You didn’t wish to scare him, and the last thing he wanted was to scare you, which was exactly what he was doing.

When it came to you, his heart softened at the reality of you being the doe eyed mother of his child, born with your love and beauty, your charisma and valor. A headstrong boy or girl with a mother like you to guide them along the way, this world lacked that kind of bond in the places no one dares to check.

“Is this something you want?” Simon finally speaks his mind, concerned over what was going through yours.

Immediately, you begin to release everything, slowly listing out a series of options that came to the top of your head, ones he wasn't expecting to hear. Going to a clinic, figuring out your options, that sort of thing if he didn’t want the baby.

Simon immediately stops you from speaking further.

“Forget about me for just a second,” Simon states, realizing he may have come off too harshly on this matter towards you, potentially giving you the wrong idea.

“What about you?” He asks in a calm, softened tone. Me?

“Is this something you want?”

You hesitate, glancing everywhere but him as your fingers clench at the bedsheets.

His hand takes yours, his other lightly sweeping through your hair. “Tell me the truth. I won’t force this on you.”

You look him in the eyes, those eyes you absolutely adored.

Oftentimes, you hear him say he doesn’t deserve you, but sometimes you can’t help but find him adorable for him being blatantly unaware of when you think in vice versa to this.

His consideration on your behalf melted your heart to its very core.

“I’ve always wanted this, Simon.” You admit, unable to hold back the tears as you look down.

“At one point in my life, I never even thought of it, but lately… “ You huffed out a weak laugh, wiping your soaked cheeks with the back of your fingers.

“I don’t know, I’ve always wanted to be a mom, but there’s so many worries I have.”

“Like what?” He asked.

“If I’d even be a good mom,” you proceeded, the tears continuing to fall. “If I could even take that responsibility, if the man I thought I’d marry when I wanted to grow up would be there alongside me all the way and have a cute little family.”

The dreadful worries began to crowd your head, much against your better judgment. If you’d carry them to full term, if Simon would stay the entire way, if he second guessed and didn’t want the baby any longer, or if something happened to the baby?

He holds you close, cradling your head close. Softly, he hushed against your forehead, his nose pressed against the crown of your hair.

“But, what if you don’t want-“ you proceeded, feeling his head shake against your head.

“No,” he stops you. “Don’t say that, love.”

He goes quiet, growing lost in his thoughts as you continuously sniffle, patiently wiping your eyes repeatedly. His comforting hug felt so stiff, so foreign, so tense. You always melted in his embrace, but the hesitation that flooded your bones prevented you from doing so.

“I don’t know if I can hold that responsibility of bein’ a good father.” He brings himself to admit, a personal truth that hurts even him to exhale it. Maybe it’s the shock still setting in that makes him say this, but it's still pure, brutal honesty.

Your heart sinks at those words. Even if you were to try to convince him that you could physically see him pacing around a pink or blue tinted nursery, swaddling a baby in his broad arms, he’d never see it that way, feeling himself incapable of clutching something so delicate and pure in his hands.

Never did he see himself being a good father, compared to the life he had, but your words gave him a bit of an epiphany.

If the man you wanted to marry during your childhood’s hopeful dreams was going to remain to help raise a beautiful child and have a happy family, that didn’t mean you’d be doing it alone. He’d take on this role, and he wanted to stay beside you, regardless of it all.

A child with your eyes sounded wonderful. It was interesting really, you were thinking the exact same about him, the excitement and anxiety deep down in both your stomachs still.

“But I want to try,” Simon admits, holding your hands securely in his.

- - -

“Can we start this over?” You spoke up, breaking through this painfully tense silence you’ve felt unable to sit through for a second longer.

He quietly nodded, watching you rise up, plucking the test from the coffee table before walking out of the living room.

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, feeling your fingers trembling as your nerves refused to settle.

This wasn’t how you wanted this to go. You wanted to surprise him in some cuter, more innocent way, but he had caught you completely by surprise as you opened the bathroom door, finding Simon standing on the other side.

Seeing his head tilt down and catch a glimpse of that test immediately destroyed every possible opportunity to surprise him, though you knew it was something you couldn’t be disappointed at forever.

Taking a calm breath, you gather up all the excitement you could muster in your body before turning around, quickly heading back towards the living room entryway.

Before you could muster a word, you were met with a strong wall of warm, black shirt clad muscle, your husband enveloping you in his broad arms, clutching you like his only saving grace.

Simon heard your laugh erupt from your lips, this sudden gesture catching you by surprise as you hugged him back, feeling your feet lift off the floor once you secure your arms around his neck.

With your happiness came tears, joining in with your wide smile. Simon’s eyes glistened with pure, raw emotions, consisting of adoration and raw, unfiltered love the second he looked into your eyes before flooding you with passionate kiss after kiss.

He was scared though. He would always be scared, but for now, he turned his walls into open gates, allowing you to flood his very being with warmth and light, feeling the happiest he’s ever been, following second to his proposal to you.

“A little you,” he muffled against your lips after kissing you for a final time.

“A little you,” you repeated with a giggle.

“With those pretty eyes of yours.” You whisper up to him, grazing your free hand against his cheek once he set you down.

“Christ save me if it has your attitude,” He mutters against your forehead before placing another kiss on it, forcing a snort from your nose in amusement.

That night, he brought you flowers and your favorite chocolates, promising to take you out to eat at your favorite restaurant the next evening. Even after all this time, he still wasn’t a fan of public places, but this was such a celebration, he would do it all in the name of you.

5 weeks.

It wasn’t enough for an ultrasound worth seeing to check for something exciting beyond the size of a pearl or rice grain, but now there was something here. Someone there, and it would soon rely on the two of you to protect it, to love and cherish it.

This would mean you would have to be away from your military lifestyle, taking on this new role while Simon continued on with his. You had to admit you were jealous, especially as the wave of maternal thoughts continuously reminded you of this new position.

With this blessing came so many worries. Simon would have to continue his lifestyle, meaning he’d be gone for long periods of time. How could you cope exactly with this? What would happen, especially after the baby was born?

Maybe you were just thinking ahead.

Only time would really tell if you were true to your word of physically and mentally preparing for it.

Your only regret for the moment was not preparing an adorable pregnancy reveal surprise for him, though time will tell if you have a chance to make up for it.

- - -

You were craving s’mores, but not just any s’mores.

You were dying for that crispy, burnt marshmallow taste, but despised the idea of smoke from a campfire, your nose suddenly souring at the thought, and the rainy weather outside had been unforgiving these past few weeks.

You’ve taken to baking a lot lately these past few evenings, scattered along the last few weeks, keeping your area lit up with the warm stovetop light, melding perfectly with the cozy ambience of your kitchen.

Your kitchen had been your experiment room, your science lab, smelling of rich chocolate and burnt marshmallows as you set your clear glass pan onto a heat protected surface, closing your oven with a gloved hand.

A Graham cracker crust, a rich, fudgy brownie filling, and marshmallow fluff that toasted delightfully on top, thanks to the broiler in your oven.

They were just a more aesthetically pleasing version of slutty brownies, delicious looking ones at least.

21 weeks in, the changes were growing ever so obvious. Your abdomen grew a bit plush, but still thankfully secured under the sanctuary of Simon’s gray t-shirt.

Since you woke up this morning, all you craved was brownies. But fuck it, it was a better craving than something sick, like ice cream and soy sauce, or some other horridly confusing craving you discovered other pregnant women had.

Don’t even bother trying it.

“You gonna finish it this time?” Simon piqued as he stood at the other end of your kitchen counter, watching you cut into this delectable creation, hearing the crunch of the graham crackers as fudgy chocolate and gooey marshmallow clung to your knife from the cut.

It was in the oven for about fifty minutes, but the possibility of raw eggs was nothing compared to the amount of sugar in this invention. At the very least, he made sure you had eaten proper, healthier food throughout the day until now, so satisfying this craving wouldn’t truly hurt every now and then.

“Of course, I will,” you looked up at him after plating four sizable slices on the plate, bits of melted marshmallow coating your fingers of your opposite hands. “You think this is all just for me? You’ve wanted s’mores just as much as I have.”

You tilted your head to the stove, gesturing towards the kettle that whistled for attention during your discussion. “I want some of that earl grey tea too, please.”

You say that because he usually doesn’t drink sweetened tea with his desserts, that was his given fancy. Plain tea cuts through the sweetness perfectly.

“Alright, as long as you only eat two of those. That much sugar will drive you up the damn walls.” Simon mentioned while gathering two mugs from the top cupboard, setting them on the counter.

“Bite me, Riley.” You muttered in amusement, clutching hold of the tray with a still gloved hand while making the final cuts to your dessert.

“I have. Can still see it from here, love.” His voice trailed into your ear from behind you as he passed by, his form lightly, yet innocently brushing along your backside to get the earl grey from another cabinet.

You smiled, a tint of color flushing your cheeks as you licked the remnants off the side of the knife before placing it in the sink.

It was silly, really. With sugar, came the surge of arousal. Hormones really loved to mess with your mind and turned you from his ever doting, needy little wife into his ever doting, needy little wife. It was a tough price to pay.

Tough price to pay indeed.

- - -

“Once this baby sees you, an’ once it touches your skin, they’ll see you as their entire perfect world.” His lowered tone rumbled deliciously from his throat, trailing along the skin of your neck in a similar fashion to his hands.

“You’ll be a wonderful little mother.” He mutters this promise to you, this elegant truth, whether your mind allows it to be believable or not.

Simon’s soothing words mumbled along the shell of your ear, his arms secured around you like a shield of comfort, more secure than any soft blanket after being tossed in the dryer.

You were fresh out of a warmed bath, warm enough to sleep in without being scalding, scented with your favorite bath soaps and oils, turning you into a glistening queen as he sat beside the tub to keep you company, talking about anything and everything to your heart’s content until the water was bordering the edges of lukewarm and cold.

You seemed more concerned over how you appeared as time passed, as if Simon would ever view you any less than desirable. He didn't understand this sudden change in attitude at first, viewing you as nothing more than a diamond after spending decades trapped in coal. Pure, utter perfection bred from years of mind melding pressure from the eyes of the world.

Scars or not, your changing body was gorgeous to him, going through a beautiful process to nurture your growing child.

Simon’s war weathered hands worked wonders along your skin, massaging along your shoulders down to your legs, working the muscles that would eventually grow swelled with time. He never minded this, knowing you’d deserve everything you deserve and more for this laborious task of carrying his child.

Old Friends of yours, and the internet of course, recommended that moisturizing was key during pregnancy, to combat those stretch marks.

The sweet almond oil was merely a plus, as well as the vanilla scented cocoa and shea body butter you used to seal in the moisture. You glistened like an absolute goddess, perfuming his dreams as he cradled you close at night.

It was even working on him, his hands always felt a little bit softer after such a routine each evening.

“An’ before you know it, our little kid will be drinkin’ their tea through their sippy cups.”

A small smile tickled the corners of your lips, a short, amused snort leaving your nose from the comment.

There it was, that smile that Simon adored so much.

A part of him knew that this wouldn’t be the last time these raging hormones would drag you down, but what good was a husband if not an anchor to your worries and concerns?

- - -

“Just one sip?”

“No.”

“But Si-“

“No.” Came his firm reply yet again, all while reading through today’s mail.

Wine. You wanted wine. You craved it desperately, but you couldn’t have it.

Whatever idiotic, controversial topic you had read off your phone or heard from one of your girlfriends was something he wished he could rip from your head and shove it back to where it belonged.

He knew you liked wine, particularly sweet ones, and was aware you had very well missed it, but regardless, he was dreadfully against it.

He cut back on cigarettes for his baby, so like hell any single drop of alcohol was going to touch your tongue, even if it was just for a taste.

Simon got you sparkling grape cider after you spent two days complaining, but it wasn’t the same. Who cares? It was sweet and didn’t have alcohol.

“But the doctor said-“

“The bloody doctor’s not here, is he?!” Simon’s voice raised instantly, leaving you stunted as he glared at you from the corner of his eye. Like hell you were going to use that no-good doctor’s words as an excuse.

You groaned, rolling your head back before stomping out of the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Riley!” You shouted at him from down the corridor before shutting yourself in the bedroom.

“Love you as well,” he mutters, gathering the ripped open envelopes in his hands.

The silly stories of men being concerned, if not frightened for their wives’ outbursts sounded absolutely absurd. If anything, he tried his very best to hold back any sign of amusement, any twitch of a smile or accidental huff of laughter at how adorable you looked being irritated over something you couldn't have.

It’s not the worst he’s seen you before, but thinking that now, he wasn't sure if he was speaking too soon.

You’ll get over it.

- - -

“You’ll be a wonderful father, Simon.” You reassured him, remaining by his side as a subtle roar of thunder echoed in the horizon from miles away.

30 weeks, 30 weeks and the broad, physical changes started to set in.

The bump stretched through most of his shirts, but you were more than content to be comfortable in his black hoodie. You found him after dinner outside after he had done the dishes, leaning on his crossed arms against the porch fence, a lit cigarette in his hand as he took in the storm’s afterglow ambience.

You rubbed his forearm soothingly, settling your hand against his open palm as his fingers relaxed from the touch of yours.

You knew he still struggled with the new mentality of this reality.

Every day, you saw it flash across his eyes once or twice a day, leading him to disappear every so often for minutes at a time to gather his bearings. Ten minutes grew into thirty, evolving into him remaining on your front porch for an hour, watching the rain fall merely inches in front of his face.

“I never saw myself bein’ a father,” he admits slowly after such a long silence, his lowered tone almost muffled by the storm.

You nod to his confession, despite the burn in your heart to hear it.

He says this due to his mother’s words, an echo of a memory voicing through his thoughts from so long ago.

“He’s your father and there’s always gonna be a piece of him in you.”

The thought alone was more terrifying than his fear of you going into labor if he wasn’t around.

If the bastard was alive, he’d make sure he’d stay dead in a ditch far from society, making it impossible for him to ever learn of his child’s name, preventing him from even mentioning it in crude vain.

“But seein’ you like this,” He continues on, giving your fingers a gentle squeeze, “Seeing you carry my child, our child I mean, made me realize exactly why.”

You nodded slowly again, feeling a bit more considerate to his truth. He didn’t need to voice it, for it was a truth you’d known for quite a long time. You didn’t need to know a cruel, heatless man to understand that your husband was nothing of the sort, not by a long shot.

“You’re not your father, Simon.” You squeeze his hand as you say these words, feeling his gaze trail to yours.

“You know not what to do, how not to act, and I know it's not going to be easy, but I’m here too,” You gently encourage him, trying your best to keep hopeful for him to see what you saw.

“We’ve got each other, right? And like you said, once they see you, they’re gonna view you as the perfect father.”

Simon wondered how he got so lucky to have a woman like you in his life, sporting a gentle love he had only known from his mother.

Stepping away from the railing, Simon lowered his hand along the smooth fabric shielding your belly. Smoothing his palm against it, his eyes followed your fingers as they trailed along his inked tattoos, mindlessly swirling over the patterns as you stepped closer to him.

“We should get ready for bed. Now come inside, I’m not supposed to be breathing this stuff in.” You softly say to him, meeting his nod as he chucked out the cigarette towards the puddles of mud out in the yard, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You chose to come out here.”

“Because my husband needed his wife and child to remind him how much we love him.”

- - -

“What is that?” You ask from the entryway to the kitchen the next morning, lured in by a new scent melding with the usual aroma of ground coffee and toast.

“Food.” He curtly replied, standing in front of the stove.

The fragrant, slightly spicy smell was delightful to you, but you weren’t sure about what it was. You had an idea, but you dreaded what it could’ve been. Maybe that’s why your husband stood the way he did at the stove, purposely blocking your view from the pan.

“Simon, what is it?” You asked again, your curiosity getting the better of you.

His head craned a little, sparing you a glance over his shoulder, seeing you slightly hidden behind the wall. “You won’t like it.”

“Just tell me what it is.”

“Black pudding.”

“Oh.” The contorted face you made immediately confirmed your views on it.

“Want to try?” Simon offered as he glanced back towards the pan.

“No.” He expected that response. You were content with everything he enjoyed in a full English breakfast except that, everything but that.

“Y’sure?” He piqued while plating both your foods, setting the pan back on the stove before setting one of the plates down on the table. He motioned for you to sit with a tilt of his head, watching you hesitantly approach.

He plated the so-called monstrosity on both your plates, knowing very well you couldn’t deny the hunger, despite being well aware of your thoughts for it. Won’t like it until you try, at least.

“Why does it look like that?” Your nose almost scrunched at it as you sat down.

“Cause it’s made with blood, love.” Simon states while filling up two mugs with hot beverages. “Good for ya.”

The look you gave him made it almost impossible to hide a smile any longer.

“Won’t disappear the longer you keep starin’ at it,” Simon chimed after watching you prod at your eggs once he sat down.

“Why’d you do this to me?’ You looked at him with a bit of a pout, frowning at his held back smirk as you proceeded to put your portion onto his plate. Christ, you’re like a little child with steamed veggies.

“Cause it smells good, yeah?” Damn him for knowing that.

You shrug. “I guess.”

“Won’t cause harm in tryin’ it,” Peering back down at his plate, he worked at his own helping, hopefully taking this opportunity to change your mind on what he viewed as essential to an english breakfast.

“Here.” He offered a tiny amount on the tip of a fork to you. You hesitated, your head retching back like a kid avoiding a foul-tasting medicine.

It looked so horrid to you, even if it did look like charred, sliced sausage, but it smelled incredible.

“C’mon, or I’ll keep ya at the table.”

He sounded so strange when he teased, his jokes as terrible as this blood pudding appeared. Nevertheless, you opened your mouth, accepting the food.

“It’s spicy.” You mutter as you chew slowly. By now, Simon couldn't hold back his amusement any longer, watching you swallow before glancing back at your plate, particularly towards the now vacant spot beside the tomatoes.

“Still hungry?” He pried.

You nodded. There were many other tasty options for you right in front of you, but as you picked up your fork, you refrained from selecting anything else.

“What do you want?” He questioned after noting your continued silence.

“That.” You muttered almost shamefully.

“What?”

“That.” You craned your head to motion at the black pudding still on his plate.

A fraction of a smirk formed on his face as he placed it back onto your plate, a low chuckle leaving him. “Good, right?”

“I guess.” You shrugged before putting a more sizable piece in your mouth, almost looking ashamed to eat it.

You weren’t ashamed for eating a peanut butter sandwich with pickle slices in it. How is this worse?

It was truly amusing, if you weren’t pregnant, you wouldn’t even be in the kitchen at this very moment.

“This a new craving now?” Simon couldn't help asking midway through you popping another piece in your mouth, hearing you muffle in agreement while covering your mouth.

“Our little one’s a true Brit now, yeah?”

“Don’t say that ever again.” You chuckled into your hand, cutting another sizable piece with your fork. Simon couldn’t be more amused and ever so happy that you were his wife and mother to his child.

- - -

The anxiety of the small baby shower that was soon to happen later on in the day prevented you from getting a good night’s rest, so you settled to do your favorite little hobby: baking, at six in the morning.

Specifically, making specialty cupcakes for the party.

Usually, you would’ve used boxed mix for that quick fix, but in this case, you did what you called “doctoring up” the cake mix.

An extra egg, swap the amount of water for milk, and use the good vanilla paste from Mexico.

He walked in on you shutting the oven after checking on the baking goods, the warm vanilla swirling deliciously in the air alongside fresh brewed coffee, lightly fogging up the kitchen window in front of the sink.

Six months.

Six months went by so terribly fast. With every passing day, you beamed with motherhood soon to come, spending your days as comfortable and as lazily as possible.

Those cupcakes would soon eye him every time he opened the fridge later today, making the mystery of the truth grow all the more curious in his head.

Only you knew the true gender, a secret you guarded very well the moment you two were alone after the doctor’s visit.

“You’re banned from the kitchen once I start frosting, you know.” You spoke up, showing him a little smile as you pulled out multiple sticks of butter from the fridge, setting them on the warm stove so they’d come to room temperature faster.

“More concerned for you walkin’ around half asleep.” He approached you, watching you huff and shake your head. “I’m fine-”

“Now now, don’t wanna hear any of it.” Simon gently takes you in his arms from behind, feeling you sigh against his chest before relaxing in his embrace.

Slowly, he trailed his hands down over your belly, cradling the underside of your swollen, unborn child.

His favorite activity, his most cherished act to do during his pastime, regardless of where the two of you were, was to hold them. To rest his hands along where he imagined little hands would press, or little feet that would kick back against.

He’d lightly rest his head against the side of your tummy in silence, feeling your fingers comb through his hair as you watched with content, seeing his facial muscles relax, his brow lowering in various thoughts of how their child would look like. These silly, innocent little thoughts always lulled him to sleep, temporarily banishing any and every harsh, dark thought that threatened to overtake him.

“You sure you wanna do this?” You softly ask, hinting towards the baby shower later this evening.

The baby shower was a shared idea between you and Kate’s wife, who began calling a few times a week to check up on you, taking a sort of maternal role on your behalf, providing a fair amount of support without being overbearing.

He was never one for parties. Public parties, anything that involved more than five people at least. But he knew all who were arriving and worked alongside most of them through thick and thin, they may as well be a sort of second family.

Simon had stepped plenty out of his comfort zone alongside you these past few months, doing grocery runs with you, eating out when neither of you felt like cooking, attending local events so you didn't feel cooped up in the house too often, despite Simon’s silent persistence that he would’ve preferred you to remain at home, except for the occasional doctor’s visit.

This baby shower will be here at home, a nice little event where everyone can have fun and bring the baby gifts. After learning what it meant, he couldn’t rob you of that experience.

“I’ll be alright,” He settles your worries, taking a gentle hold of your shoulders to guide you towards the door. “You need rest, love. Get a few hours to yourself, I’ll wake you for your breakfast.”

“Wait,” You tried to stop your steps, despite Simon insisting you continue walking forward.

“Make sure the cupcakes are taken out after fifteen minutes-”

“Will do.”

“And just set them on the-”

“Heat proof pans,” Simon confirmed, “I know. Go get your rest, love.”

- - -

You’ve never seen Simon so relaxed after a delicious dinner, sitting with most of the men in the living room, sharing a couple of beers, the good beers that Soap had brought for the party, conversing happily over various topics and stories, catching up after some lost time.

Through every shared chuckle, every change in subject between the men, Simon couldn't help but shift his attention over towards his wife, standing with Kate and her beloved, chattering your head off while mindlessly resting your hand over the baby bump.

You looked so vibrant, glowing in extravagant excellence. You wore a loose light pink dress that went past your knees, with comfortable, soft puffy sleeves. Tons of tiny blue flowers decorating the fabric of the skirt, accommodating your pregnant tummy beautifully.

You sipped a sparkling elderflower mocktail, thanks to an elderflower nonalcoholic beverage Simon had gotten you that you actually enjoyed.

Alejandro and Rodolfo arrived around four in the evening, apologizing profusely for being two hours late, but the fact that they even arrived had significantly warmed your heart.

“There’s no way we’d miss this special day, Princesa,” Alejandro stated after sharing a warm, heartfelt hug.

In Rodolfo’s hands he carried a large gift, a baby gift set his sisters had made for you, decorated in various yellows and soft, pastel greens, with kisses of pink and blue, a giant mystery to what the baby’s gender might’ve been. It gladly joined the rest of the presents that piled up in the corner of the room, remaining untouched until a particularly exciting event took place.

Kate’s wife immediately helped take the gift to add towards the pile. She had been an absolute dream with you, being as mindful as Simon, if not more than him, when it came to your needs. Arriving a half hour before the party began, helping with dinner, making sure you didn't stand for so long to rest your sore feet.

She was the apple of Kate’s eye, their relationship making you smile delightfully each chance you could.

“So, what’re you gonna do about the job?” Soap couldn't help but ask Simon, a question lingering in the air like a shadow.

Despite Simon never once minding the fact that he stayed home for you, there was the inevitable possibility that he’d have to go back to work, which meant he’d be far out of his family’s reach.

He hated it, the thought alone shooting a sour taste over his tongue. He couldn't avoid the topic forever, but it was a discussion he’d need to have with you. It wouldn't be a pretty one, but he had to have it at some point.

“Don’t quite know yet, Johnny.” He replied, glancing back over towards his wife before looking towards the Sergeant. “An’ I’d appreciate it if its not brought up again.”

“No no,” Soap held up a hand in calm defense, “I get it. Honest, wouldn't blame ya if you stayed. Doubt she’d let yer ass through the door.”

Simon huffed, slightly joining in on the man’s chuckle. That’s a level of unbridled new mother rage he’s hoping he’d never get to see.

“Are these it?” Gaz called your attention from the kitchen, holding the tray of cupcakes you kept in the freezer.

“Yep! It is.” You cheerfully replied, getting Kate to gather the men towards the dining room, either filling up the limited chairs or standing around. Simon was adamant on giving you a seat to rest in, but after some quick, hushed words, you convinced him to sit down, remaining by his side once the cupcakes were passed out with little napkins.

“So, what’s the game here?” Alejandro questioned, taking the cupcake once you offered it before passing it along to someone else.

“The game is we each take a bite and tally up the color we get. Odd color wins, gentleman. Place your bets now.” Kate announces, hearing Gaz huff while peering towards the Scotsman, muttering a few hushed words.

“Ah ah ah! Not literally, you idiot!” You quickly speak out, going against Soap, who purposely leaned back against his seat to pull out his wallet.

He snickered, purposefully acting the way he did to simply get a rise out of you, finding every chance he could incredibly amusing.

“No bets at my baby shower, John.” You ordered, watching him raise his hands in playful submission.

The man himself wore a dark blue shirt. As blue as the Scottish flag, he had stated after giving you a hug when he arrived. Despite the idea of a boy, he did mention a girl would be just as, if not, even more delightful a thought.

He could see any child the both of you had absolutely loved to death regardless, not only by its parents, but by everyone else who came to show their support.

The man himself offered to begin this little game, the suspense forcing him to chuckle as he bit into the cupcake, causing cold buttercream to smear the tip of his nose.

His eyes significantly widened the second he looked down, quickly turning around for the others to view the small pocket of pink hidden underneath the dome of piped frosting.

A small chorus of laughter and cheers erupted from the table, watching the man gather himself as he set the cupcake down, licking the frosting from his lips.

Gaz was next, helping himself to the cupcake in front of him. He took a more interesting approach, proceeding to bite into the frosting rather than the cake, revealing the purposefully pastel blue dyed frosting, casting a smile upon the man’s face as the color matched the light blue button up he wore.

“Alright! We got a boy!” He announced, chuckling along with a few others before he set it down.

“Unless you’re jestin’ us and hinting that yer havin’ twins.” Soap added in while licking his thumb of frosting after enjoying another bite.

The strain and hesitant laughter that came from you was forced, feeling your hand give Simon’s a decently firm squeeze, quietly reveling in the secret blessing that it wasn’t. It was interesting enough learning from just one, you wouldn't know what you would’ve felt with the possibility of twins.

Up next was Rodolfo, who had worn a white long sleeve, but that didn’t stop him from scoring a dark blue bracelet he had lifted up in defense to failing the dress code, something you didn’t hold against him. He held up his cupcake, presenting it like a trophy to reveal the pocket of blue underneath, cheering with the others.

“Oye, you should sell these. Open up a little bakery,” He proposed before taking another bite, watching you smile and giggle. It was good to see your love for baked goods get appreciated by others. It definitely saved money from buying them elsewhere.

Your altered taste buds despised the store-bought stuff anyway.

Alejandro wore a light pink button up with rolled up sleeves, biting into his cupcake once his turn came around. His eyes widened at the blue frosting, faking a pitiful look of sadness before chuckling it off in amusement.

“Really pushing it on a boy so far!” He chuckled, shortly agreeing with Rodolfo’s comment on how tasty the cupcake was. All it was missing was a hot cup of coffee and he was set.

Kate’s wife wore a pastel pink sweater vest over a white shirt, biting into a pink cupcake to her absolute delight, almost tearing up herself over the welcomed match. Kate herself had gotten a blue cupcake, matching coincidentally well with her blue scarf resting around her neck.

“In our defense,” Kate’s wife states while clutching her beloved’s hand, “We’ll love who they are regardless!”

“They’ll be getting spoiled either way,” Kate added in, chuckling along with the flat-out truth.

Price wore a cerulean shirt, but gladly accepted your request to pin a pink little bow on the far right of his shirt collar.

By now, as the buttercream came to room temperature, a bit of pink tinted frosting clung to his mustache after his bite, but chuckling to the realization of this little mishap didn't bother him in the slightest.

“Well, look at that!” He chuckled as you quickly handed him a few extra napkins. “I’m on the same boat, they’re gettin’ absolutely spoiled by all their aunts and uncles.”

“Sure thing, Gramps.” Gaz pitched, purposely avoiding the captain’s gaze, hiding his smile in his own hand.

“That’s a name they’ll be calling you in about a year or two,” You pitched in, smiling at the smirk that inevitably spread across the captain’s face after the comment.

“Your turn, dear.” Price gestured to you, leaving you to nod along with excitement, despite already knowing the truth.

As basic as it was, you’ve never held so much disdain for this simple vanilla cupcake, this painfully bland dessert, especially when it came to the multiple test cupcakes you’ve made prior.

The toughest challenge was making the buttercream thick and pearly white, hiding the color underneath perfectly.

You’d be more than happy to make any other cupcake rather than this tragically boring mess, leading you to simply tear open the cake in your hands without tasting it, revealing to the crowd the flush of pink underneath vanilla sponge and frosting.

The tally was set.

An even number of four on four so far, all that was left was the final cupcake to break the tie, the final cupcake that sat in front of Simon.

Simon wore dark gray, insisting that it didn’t matter to him what gender the baby was, he’d love them regardless, just as everyone else. He didn’t want to think ahead and assume too fast, too nervous at the high expectations, keeping all those thoughts bottled up until he learned the truth.

He didn't realize just until now how much pressure was placed on his shoulders, being the last man at the table, a plethora of pink and blue cupcakes flooding his eyes, down to the simple, plain cupcake in front of him.

Sweet frosting coated his taste buds once he took a bite, the room dreadfully quiet after this action.

The suspense grew thicker and thicker, all eyes on him as his wife’s hand settled on his right shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze, soothing his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

Licking his lip, he glanced down at the cake in hand, unable to wait any longer.

Right there, in the center of the swirl of thick, smooth buttercream, topped with round pink and blue sprinkles was a soft, flush pastel pink pocket of icing.

Never in his life had he been so delighted to see such a color.

You watched Simon’s eyes light up, almost wider than saucers at the discovery. You stared at him with your hands over your mouth, a bright smile hidden underneath your fingers, your eyes flushed pink with hot tears.

“It’s a girl!” You quickly state towards the others before he could turn it around, watching multiple eyes light up, followed by large amounts of cheers and applause, those who sat rising from their seats instantly.

Simon had risen so fast from his seat, almost causing the furniture to tumble over as he secured you tightly in his arms, feeling your tears of joy dampen his shirt sleeve. His head buried deep into your neck, his light scruff prickling your skin as he purposefully hid his face from everyone who cheered in congratulations.

With your growing belly, Simon found holding you close to be a more endearing action as the days went by. Before the both of you knew it, your little girl would be squeezing between the two of you, urging to join in on such a hug, simply for the surge of attention from her parents.

Your fingers clung to his shirt, your ragged breathing muffled against his shoulder. Beneath the excitement, he heard you mutter to him how much you loved him dearly, repeating these words over and over. In response, he urged you to shift your head just enough so he could take you in a long, heartfelt kiss, before returning to you the same hushed words against your lips.

How you loved each other so. Simon never wanted to be away from you, the thought growing now more than ever.

He remained facing away from the crowd after you were let go, your attention immediately taken aside by Kate’s wife, who trapped you in a tight hug.

“Ya alright?” Soap approached Simon, seeing his refrained stance from the crowd, refusing everyone else to see him this way, teary eyed and emotional, all while keeping quiet.

Simon nodded, sparing yet another glance over towards his wife, smiling as wide as possible, bright tears beading the edges of your eyes, staining your beautifully flushed cheeks as Price took you in a hug, soothing your happy sobs with a comforting rub of your back.

This was better than you had ever hoped for, A wonderful make up for being unable to surprise him the first time.

A girl, a beautiful baby girl.

His future addition to the chamber of his heart, the apple blossom of his eye, his hopeful little dove soaring across an endless sky.

A daughter with the woman he loved most in this world.

For a moment, and just for a moment, he refused to let any dark thought in his mind ruin this happiness that flooded his bones and warmed his haunted spirit, lighting up the darkness like a small pink birthday candle.

He could hardly wait now.

[pricklepearbloom]

Hey I've love love loved your acotar fics and was wondering if you could do like a jealousy fic with az like he's being completely irrational about the amount of time your spending with one of his brothers but you only love him and he goes to elain for comfort but it ends in fluff after a big argument because as we know he struggles to regulate/show his emotions thanksss

-🥒

a/n: hey loveee I hope this is something along the lines of what you wanted! I've never done an ask before (omg first!!) If anyone else has any request, don't be afraid to slide into my inbox bb.

All I Want

Pairing: Azriel x OC (Ruby)

Warnings: just some good old-fashioned angst, not beta read

Word count: 3.5K

As the morning sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room, Ruby found herself in a cocoon of comfort, wrapped in the tender embrace of the love of her life, her sweet mate Azriel. The soft rhythm of his breathing and his heart synchronized with hers in a sweet lullaby. In the mornings, it felt like the world outside the haven of their bedroom seemed to pause before the chaos of the day began. Gods she loved weekends, nothing to do but relax and stay cozy Ruby mused as she cuddled in further into her mate’s strong chest.

He pulled her closer as he began to wake placing a soft kiss on her head, practically shoving his nose into her hair to drown in the scent of her shampoo. “Mmm what time is it?” Ruby lightly rasped out, voice rough from disuse. “Who cares, I intend to stay right here all day.” Azriel replied as he gave her a small squeeze, running a thumb lightly along the small of her back. Ruby smiled softly letting her brain imagine spending all day in bed.

Shoot. She couldn’t spend all day in bed. Ruby’s eyes shot open and she sat up at breakneck speed. Azriel scrunched his brows and followed her up to a sitting position. “Is everything alright? Hey, wait where are you going?” He calls as Ruby jumps out of bed throwing on her dressing robe running into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry! I totally forgot I promised Cassian that I would meet with him today.” Ruby said her voice muddled from speaking with her toothbrush in her mouth. Azriel felt his stomach drop a bit, he had been looking forward to spending time with her today. Rhys had been piling more and more work on his plate and he promised he wouldn’t intervene today. “But wai-“ he tried to get out “I’m sorry I’m running terribly late I can’t believe I forgot, he’s going to kill me.”

Azriel took a deep breath as he watched her run around their bedroom putting on undergarments then picking up and smelling and pair of pants, making a face and putting it back down before repeating the process until she had found one that suited whatever clearly questionable requirements she had for clean laundry.

“I’ll be back later okay?” Ruby glanced up from pulling her shoes on her feet and saw the slightly lost look on Azriel’s face as he was still sitting upright in bed, mouth slightly ajar. She felt a kernel of guilt tighten in her stomach. “I can cancel if you want. I’m sorry I forgot to mention it, Cassian asked me to help him pick out an anniversary present for Nesta and you know him, he’s useless at that kind of stuff.”

Her eyes softened and she crawled back on the bed placing a soft kiss on Azriel’s sharp jawline that seemed clenched before immediately relaxing after feeling her soft lips on his face. “But if you want, I can absolutely cancel, and we can stay in bed and spend the day together?” He shook his head lightly, “no, it’s fine. You should go. Someone needs to stop him from buying her an engraved horse saddle.” He sighed “I’ll just miss you; will you be back later? Maybe we can make hot cocoa and read together?”

A fond smile came to Ruby’s lips at the idea. “That sounds lovely darling. I think I should be back just after lunch; I’ll see if we can stop by the bakery to get some of those pastries that you love.” She scooted off of the bed before leaning back in for one last kiss. Azriel wanted to make it count, his hand gently caressed her jaw and neck, thumb swiping back and forth along her cheek as he firmly planted a deep kiss that sent Ruby reeling. Azriel’s kisses were always filled with passion and love, they were like a drug to her, she could never get enough. Azriel was the first to pull away, a small smirk on his face seeing her eyes still shut spinning from his kiss. Still got it, he thought to himself smugly. “I love you.” She said softly before practically prancing out of the room, taking Azriel’s heart with her.

That was only the beginning, it seemed. Azriel noticed that Ruby seemed to be spending a lot of time with Cassian. Rationally he knew that nothing would ever happen between them, but his feelings didn’t seem to care much for rationality when Ruby was concerned. His anxiety rose higher and higher as the weeks passed on, holding it all in until one day, after coming home from a long and hard mission, he came to his breaking point.

Muscles aching from a mission, Azriel landed on the balcony of the Townhouse to see Rhys. Meetings with Rhys could take either five minutes or an hour and he had a feeling that this particular meeting was going to be on the longer side. He mentally groaned, his entire body was practically screaming at him to return to his home and wrap his arms around his warm, soft, loving mate. Ignoring the buzz that’s ever present when he thinks about Ruby, he steps off of the balcony and opens the glass door and is met with a rush of warm air and the comforting scent of his home and- is… is that his mate?

His pupils immediately dilated, and his pace picked up tenfold. He swiftly moved through the house following her unmistakable scent, his ears perking up at the sound of her laughter. His ears picked up a low rumble that distinctly did not sound like his mate. His hackles immediately rose as he rounded the corner to see Ruby and Cassian sitting side by side on the couch. He was operating on fumes and all his mind saw at that moment was the love of his life with a man that was not him and all. he. saw. was. red.

“What is this.” His voice cut through the warm atmosphere like his truth teller on a mission. Ruby’s eyes snapped up to meet his and lit up with excitement “Az!” Jumping up off of the couch to greet him. She took in his tight expression and lowered her arms that were barely raised to embrace him.

“What’s wrong?” She said cautiously taking a step toward him “Oh, not much. Just came here to debrief before going home after a very long day to see my faithful, loving mate. Only come to find her here with my brother.” Ruby’s eyebrows scrunched shocked while Cassian’s rose to his forehead “Azriel. You’re out of line.” Cassian said slowly rising from his seat on the couch with a confused expression on his face.

Cassian’s defense only served to anger Azriel even more. Obviously if he was being defensive that meant that something was going on. Ruby had been spending an obscene amount of time with Cassian, something more had to be going on. “Am I? Please, Cassian, tell me why you’re spending your night with my mate when you have your own to attend to? Or is she not enough for you anymore that you had to take what was mine as well.” Azriel practically spat out, his shadows lashing out from his body reacting to his heightened emotions.

Cassian’s eyes darkened at the slight against Nesta. “Don’t speak a word about my mate. She is and will always be enough for me. What is going on with you? This isn’t like you at all.” And he was right, the emotions that were roiling through Azriel didn’t feel like him at all. Usually, he would be ecstatic to see his mate and his brother getting along so well. When they first met, Ruby had some issues with feeling welcome into the inner circle. They were a tight nit group, and she was easily overwhelmed by the depth that each of them knew each other, it often felt like she would never find her place beyond being Azriel’s mate.

“Cass do you mind giving us the room for a minute?” Ruby said gently, not letting her eyes leave Azriel’s. Once the war general gave a tense nod and slipped through the doorway to give the couple some privacy, Ruby took another step toward Azriel. “Az,” Ruby said hesitantly “I promise nothing was going on, Cassian and I were just catching up. Why don’t you take a seat, and we can talk about whatever’s going through your head?” A wave of embarrassment flooded through Azriel, but he shrugged it off, choosing to shut down instead. “Unfortunately, I need to meet with Rhys to debrief. I’ll meet you at home.” Ruby’s eyes sharpened at his harsh tone. “Fine. But don’t come back until you figured out what the hell is going on with you and you’re ready to talk.” Azriel didn’t bother to acknowledge her as he strode out of the room headed for Rhys’ office.

Following the fight, Ruby went home and sat and waited for Azriel to come back. She reflected on their little spat and agonized over every word. What could she had said differently? It pained her that her mate was hurting and that he wouldn’t let her help. When he comes home, she thought, we’ll sit here and talk about whatever is going on with him and then we’ll move forward from there. That’s all we can do.

But minutes turned to hours and Ruby still sat on the couch. A debrief had never gone on this long before and Ruby was sure that he was probably just taking some time to cool off. She didn’t move from her spot on the couch as the day turned to night and somewhere in the late hours of the night, she fell asleep on the couch, still waiting.

A door shutting woke Ruby from her slumber, her neck aching with the pain of being held in the wrong position for too long. Ruby reached up, trying to rub the ache away her eyes locking onto the dark figure standing in the archway that leads to their living area. “Hi.” Azriel said hoarsely “What time is it?” Ruby said her gaze peering out of the window seeing the light peek through the linen curtains they had picked out together “Did you just get home?” Azriel nodded unable to meet her eyes. “W-Where have you been? Why didn’t you come home last night? I waited up all night for you.” Ruby said standing from her place on the couch, leaving the imprint of her body on the couch from hours of use.

“I stayed with Elain for the night.” Ruby’s heart sunk through the floor. It was no secret that there was bad blood between the two. Azriel and Elain had an attachment of sorts until Ruby came into the picture and Elain made it very clear that she was not a fan of Ruby. She was constantly spouting vitriol about Ruby while she was still new to the inner circle, never in ear shot of Azriel of course. Eventually, Ruby made her discomfort known to Azriel and he had put distance between himself and Elain. His interest in her had been waning for some time and when Ruby came into his life, he didn’t give the Archeron sister another thought. His heart and mind set on the kind and strong female that the cauldron had blessed him with.

“Why?” Ruby’s rasped through a tight throat, thick with emotion. “Did you- Azriel did you cheat on me?” Her eyes welled up with tears as she stared at him incredulously, a sharp pain shot through her chest at the idea.

“No, no. I would never do that to you Ruby. I just...” he paused dropping his gaze to the floor. “I wanted you to feel how it felt when I saw you with Cassian.” Now that the words had left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. He wished he could shove them into a box and never let them see the light of day again because the look on Ruby’s face, it was enough to make him want to take truth teller and shove it into his gut until he bled out at her feet.

“You- you went to Elain’s to get back at me?” she said hoping that her ears had been lying to her and she didn’t hear that her mate had done something so… so spiteful. She had been trying to hold them back but once the first tear came it was like opening the floodgates. Azriel took a step forward reaching out to brush them away and to comfort her but she matched his step, taking one backward, flinching away from his hand. “I think I need some space.” She stepped past the couch that she had been sitting at all night waiting for him to come home so they could make up, but he was with her.

Azriel lightly grabbed her wrist as she passed him intending to head quickly toward the stairs that led to their bedroom. “Ruby, please. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Ruby jerked her arm out of his grasp spinning around on him. “Really? You weren’t thinking for the entire night? I find that incredibly hard to believe Azriel. Leave me alone.” She practically ran up the stairs and slammed the door shut, locking it swiftly. She practically collapses into sobs on their bed, her tears staining the pillows still made and fluffed from yesterday morning.

Azriel’s heart shattered into pieces as he tried the door handle, finding himself locked out of his bedroom, unable to console and comfort his mate who he betrayed. He felt like beyond an idiot. What was he thinking? Going to Elain of all people? After his meeting with Rhys, he felt his emotions pulling himself in a million directions. He ran into her in the kitchen, fully intending on going home to sort things out with his mate, she saw the look in his eyes and offered an ear and some tea. A dark part in Azriel thought well if his mate was going to talk to another male then he could talk to another female. A large part of his heart ached to be with Ruby, but mess of his feelings kept him seated. They sat there all night talking and the next thing he knew it was light outside marking the next day.

If he could turn back time, he would slit his own throat before sitting to tea with Elain. It would probably hurt less than he felt now, hearing his mate’s sobs through the locked door knowing there was nothing he could do to help. “Please, Ruby.” He croaked out after hours of sitting outside of the door. “I’m sorry. I… I was jealous and stupid, and I wanted to make you hurt like I was hurting. It’s felt like you’ve picked Cassian over me for weeks and I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. I’m so sorry my love, you deserve a better mate.” Her cries had softened to a sniffle and he heard a click of the door. It surprised Azriel who had been sitting on the ground, head hung low.

He shot up, the door opening to reveal Ruby with a red nose and puffy eyes, irritated from hours of crying. He didn’t think his heart could break any further, but he found himself wrong once again.

“I don’t deserve a better mate. I have the perfect mate, Azriel.” She said softly, his heart daring to lift an inch off of the ground of the pit that it found itself in at her words. “I deserved to be treated better though, yes.” He hung his head nodding solemnly. Ruby walked back to bed and crawled beneath the sheets. Azriel hesitated to get close to her, his eyes shone with tears unshed. The desperation to be close to her was palpable and Ruby granted him mercy lightly tapping on the bedspread next to her. He wasn’t going to question her as he kicked off his boots practically racing for the bed before she changed her mind. They lay side by side turned so they could see each other. Whenever they were in bed, they were always wrapped in each other’s arms so not being able to touch her was agony for Azriel.

“What happened Az? Why didn’t you talk to me about how you were feeling with me seeing Cassian?” She whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as a way to comfort herself from the conversation they were having. Azriel reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had fallen into her face before thinking better of it halfway and pulling it back away. Ruby gently grabbed his hand and led it back to her cheek. As upset as she was, she craved the comfort that only he could provide. He caressed the side of her face, his thumb gently stroking back and forth. She closed her eyes feeling the familiar sensation, relishing in the warmth and care he provided.

“I was embarrassed, I think. I know you would never cheat on me but whenever you left to see him it felt like you were choosing him over me. And then it felt like you were spending all of your time with him and I felt like I wasn’t enough for you. Like you had to seek happiness elsewhere with someone more worthy.” He whispered back the insecurities that had flooded his brain as of late. Ruby shook her head vehemently, “I’m sorry you were feeling like that Az, I had no idea. Why do you keep saying that you aren’t worthy? You are.” She pressed not breaking eye contact with him as if to hammer home her reassurance. He didn’t deserve his kind mate. He should be reassuring her and here he was blubbering about his insecurities. “I don’t know. You are this ball of light and bring so much warmth into my life and what do I bring you? Baggage and pain.” He held his breath as he dared to whisper his deepest thoughts. As if, if he spoke them too loudly, she would realize his words to be truth and would up and leave. But she didn’t. She just shook her head sadly.

“I wish you saw yourself the way I saw you. You are strong, you’re a loyal friend,” he flinched, he wasn’t being very loyal when he went to Elain, Ruby gave him a knowing look. “We’ll get there. You are the best person I know Az. I wish you gave yourself the benefit of the doubt.” Ruby gave a moment of pause watching Azriel shake his head in disagreement “Do you think that I am a good person?” He nodded, “of course. The absolute best.” “Then why would my mate be someone terrible? Wouldn’t it make sense for the one that my soul is bound to by the cauldron to be just as good?” Azriel pondered, he had never thought about it that way before.

Ruby nodded to herself before taking a deep breath “So. Tell me about Elain.” Azriel shut his eyes. “Gods I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry my love. I promise that nothing happened, I was fired up after the meeting and she and I just talked. I acted despicably and if I could do it all over again, I would come straight home. Words-“ His voice cracked and he cleared his throat “words cannot express how awful I feel about it. If you want me to never speak to her again I will, just say the word. Please don’t leave me. Please. I’ll do anything.” He had never begged before, but he wasn’t above getting down on his knees for this female that ruled his world.

Ruby shook her head lightly “I’m not leaving you.” A weight lifted off of Azriel’s shoulders at her words and he began softly crying tears of relief. The rare sight of Azriel crying was too much for Ruby’s heart to handle and she wrapped her arms around her mate holding him tight. “What you did wasn’t okay. You lashed out to hurt me and I won’t just stand by and be your punching bag when you don’t know how to express your emotions.” Azriel nodded pressing his nose further into her hair taking a deep breath centering himself in her scent. She was here, she wasn’t leaving. “I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll communicate more when I’m feeling upset and we can work through it together.” Ruby nuzzled into his chest humming her approval. “And I’ll be more sensitive to making quality time with you a priority.” They stayed like that for an hour before Ruby broke the silence. “What if we took a little time off from the world? Spent some time just cooped up here, getting back into our groove and patching everything up?” Azriel let out a deep sigh a small fond smile finally taking to his face. “Yes, my love. That sounds wonderful.” They spent the rest of the day there, holding on to each other basking in the other’s warmth.

[owen-writes]

You let go...

10th Doctor x Gender Neutral Reader

The TARDIS materialized on an alien planet, its surface crackling with energy. The Doctor, in his signature brown suit and trench coat, grabbed your hand excitedly. "Ready for another adventure?" he grinned, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

You grinned back, the thrill of the unknown always sending a rush through your veins. "Always, Doctor." His hand was warm in yours as you followed him out of the TARDIS and onto the vibrant, alien terrain.

The adventure unfolded, danger and excitement intertwined. You and the Doctor ran side by side, hand in hand, through narrow escapes and alien landscapes. His grip was firm, a reassuring anchor in the midst of chaos. The Doctor loved holding your hand, and you loved the feeling of connection it brought.

As you both sprinted back toward the TARDIS, escaping a particularly persistent group of extraterrestrial creatures, something shifted. The Doctor suddenly let go of your hand, and you continued running, the absence of his touch noticeable. Confused, you glanced forward at him, but he seemed focused on reaching the TARDIS.

Reaching the blue police box, you entered quickly, shutting the door behind you, leaning your weight on it. You look up towards the Doctor, he was running around the console, flipping switches and pressing buttons with practiced precision. The TARDIS hummed to life as it prepared for takeoff.

Once the ship was in flight, the Doctor finally stopped and turned to find you standing near the door, a pout on your lips. You were looking down at your hand, as if surprised by its sudden emptiness.

He approached you slowly, concern etching his features. "What's wrong, love?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"You let go," you said softly, the disappointment evident in your voice. The Doctor's expression softened, realizing the impact of his unintentional action.

"Oh, my love, I'm sorry," he said sincerely, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. He planted a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.

"I just... I like holding your hand," you admitted, a hint of vulnerability in your eyes.

The Doctor sighed, remorse flickering across his face. "I didn't mean to upset you. Sometimes, I get caught up in the rush of things, forgetful of the little details. But I never want you to feel neglected."

You smiled weakly, appreciating his honesty. "I know, it's just... it's nice, you know? Feels like we're facing everything together."

He nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "We are, and I promise to hold your hand through it all. No more letting go without a good reason, yeah?"

You nodded in agreement, and he took your hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours. The warmth and reassurance returned, and you felt a renewed sense of connection.

"Better?" he asked, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.

"Much better," you replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. The TARDIS hummed around you, carrying you both through time and space, hand in hand, into the next adventure.