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#I think he'd be like good for you. but what would he SAY to her
laneywrld · 3 days
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Oh Baby | Lewis Hamilton mini series
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part one.
word count: 7.7k
Warnings: smut, absolute filth. breeding kink
Lewis can't help but want to give his best friend everything she desires. she can have whatever she wants.
You were Lewis' best friend; the world knew it. The world also saw that he admired you in a way he hadn't anyone else.
You'd been in Lewis' life since the two of you were literal babies. Your dad was best friends with Anthony, Lewis' father, so in a way, you two were destined to be the best of mates. 
Sometimes, Lewis wishes he had the chance to meet you organically, but as quickly as that thought flickers through his mind, it is pushed away just as fast.
He would've been alone as a kid if you had come later in his life. But still, meeting you later would've changed the trajectory of your guy's relationship. He wouldn't be stuck in the constant lock of just being your "best friend."
He would continue to stick out his role and push through his torture if it meant you keeping him around.
Since you were kids, you two have been joined at the hip. You were always there to defend him at school when the bullies got to him. You were always down to follow his dreams with him, even if it meant convincing your dad to let you ride with his family to watch him go-karting in the sweltering heat. You were always there. 
You still are, and maybe that's what's got his heart thrumming in his chest as he watches you dance with his brother Nicholas. The two of your hands are entwined as you sway to the music blasting from the speakers.  
As Nicholas twirls you around, your eyes meet Lewis for a brief second, and you smile at him before you are faced with his brother again. You joke with Nicholas as the two of you dance, your head constantly turning to check on Lewis.
He loves how his family is your own and vice versa. He loves how you treat his brother with the same tender love and care that he does. He can't help but to admire everything you do, even if it's just including his brother in something as simple as dancing.
You give him a curious look as you sway with Nicholas. He only grins in return, raising his glass at you. He sees your eyes fleet over his shoulder, and then your mouth pierces together in a knowing smile. You tilt your head to motion behind him, and when he turns to follow your orders, he sees Laura approaching. 
When he turns back to you, you are no longer dancing wildly with his brother but sitting comfortably with your friends, accepting the shot Miles pours for you. 
Lewis shakes his head, turning to greet Laura. He shouldn't feel disappointed and he shouldn't feel an emptiness wallow in his gut at the mere fact that he can't watch you sway in the night. His girlfriend, (if you could even call her that), was approaching and he should be glad to see her, but he can't help but to relish in the fact that'd he'd rather observe you from a distance than be in her presence.
"Hey baby!" she cheers. " I'm sorry I'm late. I got hung up at the agency."
"S'fine." He smiles, embracing the hug. "Let's grab you a drink and then settle in with everyone."
Meanwhile you are trying your best to tame your friends and their instantly sour moods. "C'mon y'all. Be nice to the girl."
"Nice?" Whitney scoffs. "I don't like that lil' girl."
"Whit." You scold, "She's not for us to like; as long as Lew likes her, we support them, yeah?" 
"Whatever," Miles piques up, "She not good enough for my guy?"
Always the wiser one, you shoot miles with a frown that shows your agreeance: "We can think that, but who are we to decide for him? Lew's not an idiot. When the time comes to make the right call, he'll make it, yeah?"
"Yeah." Daniel says, "But the only right call would be you."
You smack your teeth, reaching for another shot. "Here this nigga go on his shit again."
The table erupts in laughter just as Lewis approaches with Laura.
"Guys, you all remember Laura?"
"Do we?" Whit scoffs under her breath, downing a shot. The group breaks into fits of sniggering. You eye them with a look that screams, Act right! before turning to face Lewis and Laura in your seat.
"Laura, hi! girl!" You dragged.
Once again, you shoot your eyes across the group; one by one, they all push out fake ass hellos or a mumbled What's up.
Lew watches on as you turn to him, smiling. He can't help it as his own grows wider.
After the phony greeting, Lewis drags Laura to sit with him. The only open spot is the two-seater across from you. 
Conversation is ablaze in the midst of the circle. You lean forward chatting with Laura for a while since no one else bothered. Lewis has his arm thrown over her shoulder but he is watching you. Like always.
"Oh, so you planned this gathering?" Laura questions.
"Isn't it obvious?" You joke. "Lew could never." You motion to the lights and grand decor located around the yard.
"Oh, please." Lewis smacks his teeth.
"Admit it, Lew. It's my thing. Tell me I did good."
"You did great." He smirks, leaning back, his legs spread in a way that has you ready to drool.
You divert your eyes, sitting back in your own seat.
"Y/N's so domestic, it's giving wife."
You squint your eyes at Whit, giving her the ultimate stink face.
"You're always going to be the stepmum to us Laura. We can't separate mum and dad." Mori speaks up.
There was an ongoing joke in your friend group that had been circling for years. You and Lewis were Mum and Dad, you two paired together so well that it was like watching the perfect marriage. Your friends referred to you as each others "hubby" and "wifey".
Still, your friends were beginning to get out of pocket, and you turned to Lewis expecting him to put an end to their shenanigans like any good dad would. He only smiles at you his eyebrows wiggling in a playful manner.
You feel your cheeks burn as he doesn't deny it.
"She is quite domestic, would make the perfect wife." Miles piques up from beside Lewis.
It's a scheme that you two were left out of, a plan made to force you two to realize your feelings for each other.
His words trinkle into Lewis' mind. He's always thought you'd make the perfect wife. He's thought about marrying you seriously plenty of times. It's also been a childhood dream of his to make it official, especially after having your own wedding ceremony at the playground under the monkey bars, commemorated by strawberry ring-pops and sand confetti that had both of your parents grumbling as they scrubbed your scalps clean that night.
He's only ever told Miles this, but he wishes he never got seriously involved that first time at all. He thinks he did it out of pure irrationality. You had your first serious boyfriend, and Lewis thought well shit. To him it seemed as though you'd never be that into him. So he spent seven years on and off with a woman he was unsure about when all he really wanted was you. He's wasted so much time.
He thinks back to the times where distance sprouted between you two. Nicole didn't like how close the two of you were, and you respected it even if he didn't want you to. He feels a bit like a dickhead thinking of all the times he lied to his ex telling her you were nothing more than a friend to him. It was obviously a lie. If it wasn't a lie he wouldn't have spent majority of his relationship trying to make you realize what it was you were missing. Hint: it obviously didn't work, or you'd be the girl under his arm right now.
"I'll be back in a few," you announce, standing from your seat. I'm going to go do my rounds. Give Lew a break." Lewis' stare was beginning to get intense, you could feel your little resolve crumbling the longer her stared into your soul.
He watches you stroll over to his dad and your dad, stepping in between them and wrapping your arms around their waist. He can't read your lips but can tell that whatever you said had the two doubled over in laughter. You pat their backs, trekking over to your next target.
You're a little ways away, refilling wine glasses at the "mum table." His mum has you saying something that leads to you smooching the top of her head as you pass by. You set the bottle on the table before suspiciously eyeing your mother and opting to pull it to the other end. Lewis lets out a chuckle, watching your antics.
It'd been awkward silence covering the group like a blanket since you'd left. Everyone watching Lewis, watch you.
You had convinced Lew to buy this house, practically begged him all of those years ago. "Lew, the backyard," you had marveled, hands outstretched at your sides. "Imagine hosting out here." You had gone on a rant, dragging him across each area of the yard and throwing out ideas for gatherings that didn't even exist.
He closed the deal that same day. He was glad he listened to you as he watched you light some sparklers for the group of kids. He watches you crouch down to his nephew's level, pressing him against your front as you direct the sparkler into his hand. 
He couldn't see your face but could tell you were muttering words of encouragement into his ear. 
You stand with a proud grin when he twirls the stick around confidently. 
You turn as a small child tugs on your dress, "I'm thirsty, Auntie y/n/n."
You coo, picking up your friend's child. "Hi, mama! let's fix that for you." You pop her onto your hip, waltzing into the house from the open patio doors. She runs out moments later, a juice box snug in her hands. You follow after, arms full of the very same juice.
You crouch down as the children huddle around you. You poke each straw through the hole before passing them out one by one.
"Look at Mama Bear." Whit laughs as her eyes follow Lewis' line of sight. He is watching you with a smile and that classic sparkle in his eye that he always seems to have when it comes to you.
"She'd make a great mum, huh?" Lewis rasps out. 
You're back at the fire pit before you know it.
"Yeah, Mori, you should totally let me kidnap your child next weekend."
"Have her girl, she's all yours." She scoffs, "badass little girl."
The group laughs, but Lewis can't help but notice the gloom flash over your face before it quickly washes away.
He knows about your desire to have a family. He remembers how you opened up to him about it after your last relationship ended, and you took it worse than you ever had before.
He remembers that day like it was yesterday.
You were a drunken, blubbering mess, sitting on his couch with puffy eyes and a blotchy face. "Ugh!" you groaned, reaching for the bottle to pour yourself another glass. He beats you to it, pulling it away and setting it down on the table at the end of the couch.
"Hey," he coos, his hand pulling you into his side as your lip wobbles. You can't help the outburst of tears for what feels like the 100th time.
"Let's talk about it, yeah? That might help a bit."
You had been friends for so long, and not once had he seen you this distraught. In fact, you were the one comforting him most of the time.
"I hate him," you whined, reaching up to cover your face. He got me over here looking stupid."
"Hey," he pulls your hand down, still holding you against him, just holding your hand down at your side as well. "Don't be embarrassed for feeling, ain't that what you tell me?"
"Yeah," you shudder.
"Now, talk to me."
"I wanted kids. I don't think i'm that hurt about him you know?" you don't give him time to answer, "I just feel like I'm not meant to be with someone, like love is not for me. Sometimes it seems like everyone has a person out there for them but me. I want a family of my own. I love my family and yours, but it's different." you cry harder then.
"I want a human to love unconditionally, I want babies, and I want to be a mom; I would make a great mumma."
"You would." He hums, his free hand coming up to wipe your face. You pull away turning to face him, your legs are crossed in front of you and he reaches forward grasping both of your hands in his. 
He has one leg propped under the other, and his body is turned to face you. The way he's looking at you makes you want to break down into another fit of tears. No one pays attention to you as much as Lewis.
"Is there something wrong with me?" You ask, and you sound so broken that Lewis is fighting off tears of his own.
"You're perfect." He assures, and his hold on your hands grows tighter. "There's someone out there who loves you whole. Through and through, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with you, just the wrong people you've come across. You're going to get all that you want one day. He was an idiot anyway. What happened anyway, huh? What made him-."
"I left him." you interrupted, "which is crazy that i'm crying over him this bad but I could feel a disconnect between us, we were too different, didn't have the same end goal."
"You know what's beautiful about this?"
You look up to him with a baffled expression to say what the actual fuck is beautiful about being an emotional mess. He chuckles, swiping one hand against your wet cheek, where he settles his palm to cup your face. 
"One day, when you get what you desire, you're going to appreciate it a whole lot more because of how much you had to go through to get it."
And if Lewis wasn't a scary idiot, he swore he'd given you a kid right there and then, hell, however many you wanted. He's always had a soft spot for you, giving you anything you could have remotely even thought about wanting. You mention wanting to visit Brazil, bam, you're on his private jet whisked away, you want a yard to throw family gatherings, the deed is signed. You complain about wanting specific cupcakes from your favorite bakery, he was out of town but it was nothing to have his assistant travel across town to place them at your door. The point is, he'd give you anything in a second. He's good for it and he'd give you his baby if you really truly wanted.
You look up to Lewis the same memory flowing through both of your minds, he shoots you a tiny smile, raising his glass in your direction. You return his expression sipping from your freshly filled wine glass. 
Your smile blows him away; he can never control the way his heart lurches; you'd think after years and years, your charm would lose its effect on him, but somehow, they grow stronger and stronger as each day passes by.
He doesn't know how long his group of friends sit around the fire pit laughing and chattering along (you including Laura every chance you get, seeing as your other friends seem to have forgotten she exists.) Before he knows it his father is approaching. "Son, there's a million sleeping kids all over your house, I think that's our queue to pack it up."
At that announcement you guys' friends begin to pack themselves up. Lewis says his goodbyes. The group sniggers as Anthony shoots a "Nice meeting you Lauren."
"He called me Lauren," she pouts, "and I've met him before."
"Don't pay it any mind," you speak up balancing an armful of empty glasses, "he's got a bad memory."
You scold your friends, shooing them off as Lewis apologizes to Lauren, Laura.
After a while the house is empty and you say the goodbyes in place of Lewis. As you load the dishwasher you see them bicker back and forth through the large window. 
You close the door, pressing start, deciding to stop evading their private conversation. You connect to Lewis' speaker, soft melodies bleeding through the house as you go room to room, collecting any foreign object that doesn't belong. You sit with Roscoe for a while after refilling his bowl, giving him kisses and rubs until his body vibrates with snores and then you are up and at it again finding anything to tidy.
You sing quietly to yourself you huff wiping the imaginary dust onto your dress. Just as you're going to sneak from the home, Lewis' voice halts you in your tracks.
"You're leaving?" His eyes are furrowed, and his face is scrunched up.
"I- uh yeah, I didn't know how long the two of you were going to be."
"You're not staying the night?"
Your eyes flicker between Lewis and Laura, "Um, no." you chuckle hoping he'd catch the hint.
As much as you loved Lewis and spending time with him, that love didn't cover listening to him fuck the brains out of his current fling.
"She's not staying," Lewis speaks up.
You are still frozen by the door, your hand holding onto the handle. You peek at Laura, her face covered in disdain.
Your mouth drops open and then closed, trying to figure out the words to articulate your desire to leave in order to avoid whatever weird tension is brewing.
"Bye, Lewis." Laura bites, her long legs striding past you quickly. You move to the side, and she slips through the door without saying so much as a word to you.
"Ooh," you whistle, watching as the door frame rattles from the intensity of the close.
"What's her problem?"
"Your friends are bitches Lew." He mocks in a whiny voice.
You laugh, clutching your chest, "They're a bit rude." 
"Yeah," he sighs.
"For good cause," you continue.
"Yeah."
"I mean, I don't like the girl either, but as long as you don't mind what she did then-."
"You staying." Lewis interrupts. He really didn't feel like talking about Laura, especially since he was alone in your presence for the first time today; it was all he wanted for his birthday.
It'd been three weeks since he last saw you, and while the two of you talked on the phone and texted every single day, it'd never compare to actually being in your space. 
You groan as he puckers out his bottom lip, giving you his signature puppy dog eyes that always seem to convince you to do whatever he's asking for.
"Only because it's your birthday, and these heels hurt my feet so much, I don't really think I can drive."
"Oh please," Lewis laughs, "don't act like you don't wanna spend time with me. Excuses, excuses, excuses."
You waddle over to him, grasping onto his waiting arm as you bend at your knees to free your aching feet from said heels.
He takes the shoes from your hand, leading you up the stairs. 
As the two of you approach his bedroom, you feel your excitement boil over.
When he opens the door, you speak up, "I figured what'd be a good gift for someone who literally has enough money to buy whatever he wanted. Then I remembered how much you miss home while you're away and came to the conclusion that money could never bring that kind of comfort."
Lewis sniffles as he looks at the array of gifts spread over his bed. 
There is a stuffed Roscoe and Coco, a scrapbook that you'd dug into the archives to fill, letters from his family, your family, your friends, and an array of letters from you. Flowers, because to you, he deserved his more than anyone walking. You'd recreated his favorite ever birthday gift to him, a knit cheetah that you had your grandma help crochet with you for weeks before his seventh birthday. It's safe to say the OG had gone through a lot over the years. And finally, his first helmet from his carting career. He remembers his parents not being able to afford his helmet after buying him a game console for his birthday.
He remembers how upset he was but understanding of his parent's situation. He also remembers you leaving his party that night, face set in as much determination as it could be for a kid. The next day, you popped up with your dad shoving a brand new helmet adorned in a purple sticky bow into his arms. It'd been so many years since he'd last seen the helmet; as a teen, he'd gotten rid of so many things he considered to be junk, the helmet being one. But the older he got, the more he realized just how sentimental stuff like that was.
"You don't understand how hard I had to search through my Granny's attic for that. She always figured you'd want that back one day, pulled it right out of your yard sale that day."
Off to the side were stacked shoe boxes, a box from his jeweler, and a few designer bags.
He throws his arms over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest; he nestles his head atop of yours before he cranes to press multiple kisses to your hairline. "You're my favorite person in the whole world, know that, right?" He rasps.
"You wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in closer. "I love you Lew, happy birthday. You deserve it all."
You don't know how long the two of you stand their wrapped in each other's embrace before you part. 
"You can shower in here; I'll hop in the guest."
"Unzip me?"
You turn giving him your back to face, you feel his hand reach up to gently swipe your hair over your shoulder, you shiver as his finger tips glide against the skin of your neck.
"I'm gonna unclip your necklace first," he announces, and his voice is raspier than usual. He gulps as he pinches at the golden clasp, reaching one hand around your front to catch the dainty piece of jewelry.
He places it into you waiting palm, and feels his hands get clammy as he holds onto your hip for leverage. Holding you into place as his other hand glides the zipper down your back. His mouth waters and his heart hammers at the sight of your glowy skin being reveled to him.
You hold the dress up at the front, staring at him from the mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and there is such a charged tension lingering between the two of you. There are no words spoken as the two of you revel in each others presence. Both of his hands are now on your hips as you fell yourself subtly lean back into him. His chains cool your back as you sink into him. 
You smile at him through the mirror, "I really did miss you, but I have to shower. I'm sweaty, and I've been chasing kids around all day."
He chuckles, nudging you away but not before leaning over your shoulder, craning his neck in order to place a lingering kiss on your cheek that is almost too close to the corner of your mouth.
"Go shower, stinky."
You roll your eyes, treading into the bathroom and closing the door. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding.
Fuck, it was so challenging yet so exhilarating being in Lew's presence when all you want to do is strip him bare and have your way with him.
You put those thoughts aside and turned on the shower.
When you're clean and dry, you exit the bathroom in your robe (Lewis always keeps an extra for you), where you see Lewis sprawled across the bed, clad only in a pair of boxers. He watches you as you stride past, his head lies against the bed turning to follow your movements. He watches you disappear into his closet and exit, covered in his Mercedes t-shirt that falls down your thighs.
He lulls away the inappropriate images flowing through his mind and instead focuses on the fact that you're wearing his shirt to bed rather than any selection of your clothing piled in his dressers or hanging in your section of his closet.
He makes no attempt to move as you crawl up the bed towards him.
The scene is an absolute vision; he feels blood rush to his member, and he has to use all of his willpower not to let out the lewd groan he's containing.
You only smile at him, and you look so fucking beautiful and innocent he swears if you stare at him for any longer, he'd say fuck it all and pull you down underneath him.
He starts a mental countdown, but before he reaches one, you are flipping onto your back, his arm serving as a pillow as you fit comfortably against his side.
You turn your head to the right, seeing the bottle of liquor in his hand. 
"Give me that." He passes it over, his lips turned up in a smirk.
You lift your head, taking a good bit down your throat before passing it back; he does the same.
"I've got to post you for your birthday!" You gasp excitedly. You two joke around as you upload to your pages.
y/u/n
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liked by haileybeiber, landonorris and 1,472,872 others
y/u/n my favorite holiday, happy birthday lewlew, i love you to the moon and back, although you love to move through life fast I am always happy to spend slow days like this together with you cheetah, thank you for the lifelong memories and for sticking by me, i love you like no other <3
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whitwhit mum and dad ❤️ happy birthday pops
fencer Petition to make today a national holiday.
lewishamiton I love you more than life bunny, Thank you for today it was everything I needed.
lewishamilton
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liked by mercedesamg, charles_leclerc and 3,563,986 others
lewishamilton Another one 🎂 Always a blast spending time with the people I love. Blessed to see another year surrounded by those I love. Special shoutout to bunny for the impromptu birthday celebration, every year that passes I am reminded of how we've gone through life together, always. Can't wait to spend many more years surrounded by love and happiness, thank you for the birthday wishes.
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user the way his post is full of him and y/n as kids. they really grew with each other 🥹
y/u/n cakes and candles my guy i luv uuuu
morismith +1 dad 🥳 child of a happy and healthy marriage
You two laugh as you scroll through your friends' comments. Somewhere along the line of you two passing the bottle back and forth, you began your own game of twenty-one questions, extra juicy, seeing as you two already knew damn near everything about the other.
"Hmmm!" you light up, "take a shot, or tell me why Nicki called you a weird little guy." 
Lewis smacks his teeth but breaks into a fit of laughter as you turn over, propping your chin up against his arm. Your feet kick back and forth as you stare into him.
"You're messy." He declares, downing another shot.
You groan, reaching over his bare body to take the bottle. "And you're no fun."
"What's one thing you've never told anyone, including me? I mean deepest, darkest secret."
You hum again, allowing Lewis to reposition the two of you. Now he is rested against the headboard, and your head rests on his lap. You let out a gentle moan when his fingers begin to rub against your scalp—his member twitches in his boxers.
"Answer the question." He demands his hands, pushing your head forward slightly to avoid the feel of his growing penis.
Your eyes bore into his, and he could see you fighting to decide whether to tell him or not. He almost tells you to take your shot until the words tumble from your plush lips.
"I used to have the biggest crush on you for the longest time, like probably was in love with you." You admit. Your eyes never leave his and it has his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He feels many questions running through his mind and they want to tumble out like an avalanche but like the relaxed person he is, he plays it cool.
"yeah, and what happened to these feelings, bunny?"
You smile at the nickname, rolling your eyes as you scoff. Lewis always picked at your cute persona as a kid, calling you as sweet and timid as a bunny, the bunny teeth also didn't help.
"You almost got married," you answered. "Realized that a childhood crush was just that, I let it simmer for so long that I made it seem realistic. When you started considering taking things further, I think I closed that book, locked that door, and threw away the key. It was easy when you left her and started running rabid like a fucking dog." you snort.
He laughs with you, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You calling me a slut?"
"If the condom fits." You tease. 
He rolls his eyes, but deep down inside, he is in shambles over the chance with you that he's missed. And he's regretting every decision that led up to you losing those feelings for him. "Next question."
You're staring deep into his soul with those sparkly eyes again and he can't help but return the same lovey eyes back. He always feels like this with you, wholly enamored and floored by anything that you do. 
You look so sweet and perfect that he doesn't expect the question that falls from your lovely mouth. "What's your favorite kink, like what's something that you do during sex that has you absolutely ready to go berserk?"
"You got a dirty mind, bunny." He teases, two fingers tapping against your temple.
"I've got a breeding kink, I think." He doesn't go into full detail, describing how he discovered it years ago when out shopping with you, and you passed through the baby aisle to shop for his newborn niece at the time. He doesn't describe how his pants tightened at the sight of you holding up cute little onesies or how his mind wandered to you laying spread out in his bed, being pumped full of his cum and loving it, begging for it. He doesn't tell you how he came the hardest he'd ever come in his life that night in his shower, imagining you plump with his child and a bright smile on your lips.
"Elaborate." There is a glint in your eyes as you observe him that urges him to finish his thoughts.
"It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you. You love someone so much that you want them to swell up with what is yours. Just fucking the cum back into them every time it slips out, one goal. Give someone my babies."
As he talks, his own words excite him; you can feel it, and you say nothing. The air surrounding you two is charged with such a lewd and sensual energy.
You throb between your thighs as he speaks to you, and his voice is getting deeper and deeper. He is hot and hard against your cheek; you stare up at him, your eyes leaving his own to trail the way his lips move to the way his jaw clenches, to the way his throat bobs all the way to his tatted, glowing chest. His words are getting to you. It's no secret that you, too, had a breeding kink, but hearing him say the words you wished to hear spoken to you in the midst of passion made you shoot into action. You are on his lap before you know it, mouth mushing against his in an instant.
He doesn't hesitate to return the favor; he separates your lips, gliding his tongue into your mouth, licking you open. You moan into his mouth, pressing yourself against him harder. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose, reaching one hand up to grasp the back of your neck and the other on your ass, pushing you impossibly closer to him.
You rock your hips against him, grinding down over him; he lets out a raspy groan, pulling away from your lips, his head falling to watch where your bodies connect; he lets out a moan as his grey briefs darken in color. You continue to glide back and forth over him
You swear you hear him whimper as you lift from his lap. He reaches to pull you back, but you are too fast; kneeling between his spread legs, the sight alone has him letting out another drawn-out whine. Your hand creeps up, rubbing him through the material. You were such a fucking vixen it was driving him mad. His head falls back against the headboard, and his eyes squeeze shut. You're barely doing anything to him, and it feels better than anything he's ever experienced, and he can only equate it to it being you.
You finally free him from his confines, and his head drops down to view you, and his jaw falls slack.
You jerk him up and down, your thumb swiping over the slit at the head of his perfect cock. You moan at the sight, and he twitches. You kiss at the top, staring at him through your lashes, and he swears he almost burst right then and there. Your lips are shiny with spit and you're practically drooling over him. As you place kisses up and down his shaft. You finally slip him into your mouth humming as you taste him. It has his legs spasming making you jostle a little.
You pop him from your mouth, giving him a cute smile that has him throwing his head back. She's going to fucking kill me.
You're moaning over him, driving him absolutely fucking insane. Lewis watches you through clouded eyes, his hand traveling to your hair. He pushes you lower and lower until you're shoving all of him down your throat, and then he pulls you off for air. You smile up at him going down again, and he lets out the nastiest moan you've ever heard.
"So fucking greedy for my dick." You'd never heard him speak like this, and it was scrambling your brain and your insides. "Mhmm," you moan over him. He holds onto your hair with his left hand, his right hand trailing to pull up the shirt that adorns your beautiful body. The higher he raises the shirt, the more unstable he becomes; the black panties cover barely anything, and when he continues to glide his hand up your back, your breasts hang loosely. He fondled them in his hand tweaking your nipple.
He tenses up, watching you take him down your throat like a champ, "fuuckk." 
He pulls you up for the last time, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He thrust up into nothing. His tongue finds it's way into your mouth and moves along with you in the most sensual kiss you'd ever gotten in your life.
"Lew." you whine, and it has him tensing again. This was better than he'd imagined. For years for his entire life he'd pictured this moment, played it out in a million different scenarios and they don't even measure up to this.
He was harder than he'd ever been and ready to finish at the mere sight of you looking up at him with his cock stuffed in your mouth.
"I can't- I won't last-" He is breathless, and his chest is falling up and down harshly. He looks so perfect, face tinted red and lips red and plump.
"Fuck me then," you order, and it flips a switch in him.
He'd dreamed of this moment, and he would be damned if he let his mind fuck this up for him. He pulls the large shirt from your frame and flips you over, laying you gently on your back. He hikes your legs up, spreading them open and pressing them down. Your knees touch the bed flat at your sides, and you mewl as his tongue flatly glides against your core.
You shiver and shake as he sucks you up. You can't stop squirming as he literally eats you. You moan his name over and over, hands coming down to clutch his curls. He moans against your core, pressing you down harder. You quiver in his hold, and you can feel that ball inside you, ready to burst. "Come for me, baby, let it out." He urges kissing your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, and that's when it happens.
The best orgasm you've had in your life. He licks you through it before sitting up on his knees. He still has you spread open at his mercy, and the sight below him has him stroking himself above you.
"So fucking pretty." he rasps, "ready for me?"
You nod, so fucked out that words seem impossible to you.
He chuckles, his hand coming up to hold you open as his other directs his hard dick to your hole; he pushes the head in at first, hissing as you suck him in. "Mhhm," he moans, "want me so bad, huh?"
You mewl, trying to push your body up to push him in.
"Aht, aht." he pushes his hand against you harder. "Let me take my time, make it right for us, yeah. Been wanting this forever."
His words make you gush more and more; you'd never imagine that Lewis, of all people, was this vocal during sex.
"He lets go of himself, both hands now gripping your thighs that are still burning against your chest. He stares deep into your soul as he pushes himself in an inch just to ease out just as slowly.
"Gotta stretch this pretty pussy out first, huh? So fucking tight." he coos.
Your eyes fall closed, your mouth going slack as he slides in again. "It's your dick, baby. All yours."
"C'mon bunny, wanna see your eyes, wanna watch you take me." You open your eyes breaths leaving you as little hitches as he finally fills you up.
"He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes watching where the two of you connect. "Fits so good," he groans, "made jus' for me."
You only mewl and clench the sheets.
"So pretty," he drops your legs, propping himself up on an elbow; his weight covers you like a security blanket. "Mhmm." he moans, sliding in and out of you. Your walls were suffocating him, sucking him in and trying to keep him in place. His face is scrunched up in pure pleasure as he succumbs to your velvety walls. So fucking warm and wet.
"Love this pussy." he groans before his mouth is back on yours. 
"Say it's mine," he orders pulling back, he is towering over you again, one hand clutching your face to watch him watch you.
You only moan, equating his words to being in the moment even though they have your stomach doing flips.
"Say it's mine, baby, and I'll give you what you want." 
It's like he hit a switch in you, brought out a side of you that you've never been able to release.
"It's yours," you coo, "all yours, only yours."
His eyes shine at your words, pressing a quick peck to your lips. 
"Nobody can give it to you like me, they don't deserve it, been so good to you. Hmm. Can give you everything you want."
One hand travels down to your stomach, where he presses down, "Feel me in there?"
"yes." you gasp, eyes rolling back; the sex is no longer slow and sensual. He is pounding into you so hard that your body lurches up and down the bed, and your breast bounces with every thrust. 
Lewis Hamilton is a dirty man, you conclude watching his lips fall open from the dirty smirk he'd had it in. 
"Got something else to put in there." You clench around him tighter curses falling from his mouth as he stills inside of you.
You know he is only in the moment, this whole debacle started because of his admission of a praise kink, you know he's playing along with yours, he wants to get you there in the same way you want to get him there so you play along.
"I want it." you whine, "want it all."
Lewis thought it was impossible for him to get any hornier, but once again, you've proven him wrong.
"Want you to fill me up, want to be full of you." You play on his words from earlier. "Want all of you."
He moans once again, spreading you open. He is plowing into you. Loud grunts left his throat as he digs deeper and deeper into you. He can feel every crevice of your flesh as you swallow him.
"Gonna give you what you want, make you big and full, have you carrying my babies. Going to have what you always wanted, love."
Your eyes fall shut at his words in utter bliss.
He lays on top of you, the burn of your thighs spreading. His hands travel to your own, holding them on either side of your head. His head is nestled between the crook of your neck; he's sucking and licking along your neck. You feel him everywhere.
"mmph," you moan as he reaches and punches against your sweet spot over and over. 
Lewis is so fucked out in a loving haze that he can't control the words tumbling from his lips onto your skin.
"Wanted this forever, so long." He whimpers, "Feel so good, only wanna feel you. Only wanted you."
You free one hand from his hold wrapping it around to rub at the curls at the nape of his neck. You want him to keep talking, keep feeding you the words you've waited your whole life for him to say. "I can give you everything you want, baby."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you can't tell if it's from the pleasure he's giving you or the words he's dribbling out.
"Taking me so well, fuck!" he sits up on his knees again, turning you over without pulling out of you; you're on all fours as he plows into you from behind. 
"So mean, making me wait so long, letting me be with the wrong woman, should've been you." You clench around him eyes squeezing shut, you shouldn't enjoy these words as much as you do but you can't help it.
"Wanted it to be you, would've had our family by now, so many kids, so happy." You're literally shaking, the fire growing inside of you, making it impossible to ward off your second orgasm. 
"Been looking for you in all these women, never were you, never could be. Fucking couldn't get hard without imagining your face. Always had to be you." He sounds so vulnerable and open behind you. You want to see his face so badly, and you want to watch him as he admits what you've always desired.
Like he read your mind, he flips you over again, nestling between your legs and pushing himself in again with a hiss, "Gotta see your face when you come, love."
You're on top of him, relishing in the way he looks up at you. Your thighs are placed on either side of him lifting over and over as he glides in and out of you.
He looks so beautiful, you think even if he is spitting out the most wild and lewd words you've ever had spoken to you. "Gonna empty this dick in you baby, give you my baby. Make you mine, all mine." He growls.
"Could've had this all along if you said something sooner, bunny. Would have had you feeling like this all of the time."
His hands are on your waist, lifting you up and down over him. You fall forward one hand holding you up and the other reaching down to cup his jaw. You press your lips over his, breathless pants traveling from one mouth to the other. The eye contact is intense as you stare each other down. His eyes literally sparkle as he fuck up into you, his mouth dropped open. You kiss him one last time before sitting up again and setting your own pace, "Fuck Lew, you feel so good."
You're bouncing on him at a much slower pace as his eyes fall closed and his grip tightens on your flesh.
You're not responsible for what you say when you cum, it's common knowledge, which is why when Lewis flips you over and barrels into you at a much softer pace you let his words carry no penalty, albeit the way they make your eyes water, albeit the way you return them truthfully.
It's so overwhelming you can't help the way the tears flow from your eyes and slide onto the sheets. He's cumming in spurts, hot and gooey, filling you to the brim. Lewis has never come so much. He lets out an array of grunts and moans. He's so out of it that he lets his words tumble out without a care in the world, and he means them wholly. He's fucking his cum into you, pushing it back in with his dick as you quiver around him. 
"Love you, fuck, I fucking love you."
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moondirti · 2 days
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simon sees a familiar face. (AO3 mirror) tags: darkfic. ghost x nude model! reader. (given a stage name but no discerning characteristics.) violent intrusive thoughts. objectification. rough sex. marking. dacryphilia. possessiveness. dubcon photo sharing.
It's the slip of her skin in his periphery. Moisturised, gold shimmer body glaze. Tucked up against the bar and nursing a negroni in both hands, her dress riding high up on her thigh. Sticks out like a sore thumb in a pub like this, where seedy men come to drink their woes away. Just a little too clean, prim and perfect polish. Pretty enough to make his teeth hurt.
He has to do a double take before he can be sure. Where he would know her calves, those hands and varnished nails, anywhere, he can hardly believe it until she turns a quarter angle and her face comes into full view. Lips he's seen perked up and glossed into erotic O's. Eyes so often half-cast and sultry, lined in kohl, that it's odd to see them wide like this; looking around, searching for something.
Yeah. Simon knows her. Knows her like the grip of a gun, the rip release of a hand grenade, the flat lining of barrack cot mattresses. Knows her so well that his cock chubs up in an almost pavlovian response, fat and heavy and leaking already, like a bloody sixth former seeing a pair of tits for the first time. In all honesty, this might just be the equivalent for a man like himself. Aching jowls, frothy lips. Ageing, dirty beast – thrown the most delectable fucking bone.
Because it's her. Cut straight from the centrefold of his favourite magazine and pasted a mere four feet away. Just as alluring, as provocative as she is in the poster he'd gifted Johnny on a deployment birthday. The object gracing every page not adhered together with dry cum. The one thing that gets him – and frankly, every other mutt on the task force – through long missions.
He throws back the last of his bourbon and slips his mask back over his chin. The haunt is emptier than usual. He assumes the big guy by the doorway is responsible, no doubt hired to follow her around and scare the creeps away. Simon must count as one – if his intentions, latched like filthy claws in his stomach, are anything to go by – but he's also bigger. Bolder. Probably has tattoos that outlast her bodyguard's experience in the field. So he takes his chances as he stretches up and prowls up to where she's sitting.
"Selene Harlow." It's a stage name, of that he's certain. But he has nothing else to call her by, not having fallen short of searching for her true identity. She's good at keeping herself safe from perverts like him. A good fucking girl, if not a little minx.
"Only on the clock." She smiles softly, dipping the orange peel in and out of her drink. It looks untouched, glass sweating onto the bar top. He thinks of holding her head back by her hair and knocking the concoction down her throat. "You don't look like my date."
Simon makes a sound. "No' your usual type, then?"
"I didn't say that." Her dress is low cut, bandage tight. When she breathes in, he devours the way her chest heaves out of the material. Begging to pop free, or else be ripped open right here. He can't imagine she would be opposed to being stripped in public. Not with her breasts plastered on a million different publications, issues displayed in the illicit material case behind every gas station counter.
"Well, he must be soft in th'head."
She shrugs. "Don't sound so surprised." Simon wonders, if he were to press his thumbs down onto each collarbone, how much pressure it would take to snap them in place. He's always liked the delicate arch of her shoulders, the swan-like column of her neck. With how he fixated he is on them now, he can hardly place the dejection in her voice. "Not a lot of people wanna go out with a girl who does what I do. It was only a matter of time before he found out."
"Can' be too pissed at him, a'suppose."
"Hm?"
"His loss is my gain."
"Aha." A flash of teeth. She turns on the bar stool to fully face him, and her knees knock his. Soft fucking legs, plush like a chew toy and he knows– he knows what they look like completely nude and spread open. But nothing could've quite prepared him for how different it is to see them in real life. To see her – real, fleshly, blood full – and not be able to take. Have to hold himself back despite the way he's pumped himself raw to her arse almost a hundred times now. He lost the plot some time ago. His mind must think of her as his. "Is that what this is?"
And what is this? Simon doesn't have a name for it. All he knows is the way his head itches, the tantalisation crawling in his skin. The sheer self-restraint it takes not to pocket her home and chain her to his bed. He wants to dig his teeth into her cheek.
Instead–
"Could be."
"I think that's up to me." She crinkles in a wily little smile and he chuckles because it's funny. Funny because she takes him to be a good man. But with the way her bodyguard is eyeing him from across the room (fucking muppet), he knows that's not the quality he's projecting. There's the urge to crack a sick joke, something about clipping a bird's wings, just to see her pick up on the rot he carries with him. "You military?"
"Tha' obvious?"
"Hm, no. Wild guess." She straightens her back and the vague gesture she makes with her wrist is enough to drive him up a wall. It sets a timer, ticking time bomb, in his brain that'll detonate if he doesn't get his nasty old hands on her waist. Thirty seconds on the clock. He can never be patient when it comes to sweet things. "Your... stature. And I tend to be popular with servicemen, anyway. What's your name?"
"And why do you wan' to know my name, bird?"
She flutters her lashes, pointedly looking down to where he's bulging in his jeans. Bird is right. She shines like one with pretty feathers, begs to be plucked, because why else would mother nature create things like her if not to appease men like him?
"Figure you'd want me to moan it later."
And it's like watching one fly into a cage on its own accord. His blood boils hot and thin, flooding his head until his eyes strain with something ferocious. "Why wait." Simon says. He can't wrap an arm around her waist fast enough, scooping her from her seat and wrapping her tight against his side. Tight enough that, if she changed her mind, she wouldn't be able to flap her way out of it. "Name's Simon, and there's a bathroom 'round back."
It's nasty. Depraved. Graffiti lines all four walls and it's no coincidence that the one he pins her up against looks the filthiest. Something in him craves to see her degraded (the same part that marked a picture of her in black ink, chicken-scratch body writing proclaiming her as his), brought down to the same peg that he occupies. Beasts with too much baggage stored in their marrow. Humans, men, with moral compasses that skew a tad too far left. Animals. Animalistic.
"I don– Don't usually do this..." She breathes, excuse stuttered through little whimpers as he mouths at her jaw. Maybe she's afraid of living up to her name, or whatever image Selene Harlow projects. Not a prostitute, he can almost hear her say. Tastes the fear of misconception, sour on otherwise tart skin. He hums and tugs her breasts free with one, scarred paw.
"Doesn' really matter, bird. Were fuckin' made for it." He squeezes the two mounds, pinches knotted nipples and rolls them between his fingers until she cries. Her voice breaks in little bubbled sobs – starts crying so fast that, christ, it must be some sort of record – and he aches in his trousers. Ready to burst if he doesn't bully his cock into a hole soon, just like she's been ready to be unravelled all night. "Made to be mine, yeah? Bloody 'ell, jus' look at you."
Frayed little tapestry. If he weren't so mad with lust, he'd obsess what drove her to this point. What brought her to some shitty pub in Manchester to meet a good for nothing lemon. Why she mewls and completely melts into him when he slaps her tits, just to see the way they jiggle. He's an ugly bastard, definitely punching just by breathing the same air as her, and yet she's so perfectly willing. Flaying herself open, skinned alive. Gasping selfish gulps of air when he finally pulls off his mask to sink his canines into her shoulder.
He's so used to seeing her posed, perfectly still. To have her like this, a trapped worm underneath him, feels like concentrated lightning on every artery. Overstimulating. Paralysing. He never thought he'd see the day where she exposes herself in motion: folding her dress up over her wide hips, slipping soaked panties down to her ankles.
(In fact, he vividly remembers brooding over an interview her magazine had added to the corner of a cover page, once. Selene Harlow tells all! Answers inquiries on video pornography and more!
I don't think I'm the right person for that sort of scene. Not much of an actress, I'm afraid.)
Not that her feigning was ever a concern. Simon knows the giddy gossamer over her eyes can't be artificially replicated. She's too clumsy, too amateur in the way she readies herself for him. Used to doing all this prep in a frilly dressing room with apathetic staff members directing her. Sways a bit on her heels and holds onto his thick forearms as she widens her stance. He stands until she's steady, then drops to his knees in search of the star of this show.
And the sight is as much a bludgeon to his self control as seeing her for the first time was, trigger for the feral mongrel that barks and chomps on his ribcage. Her cunt is just as perfect up close in this grimy bathroom as it is well lit, professionally oiled, and printed on coated paper. A little fuzzy, swollen enough that it flowers open for him on its own. Shyly inviting him to dig his nose right under her clit and inhale, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the scent of her, undiluted. Salivate blooms around his teeth.
When he flattens his tongue against it, she tries to find purchase in the roots of his shorn hair. Nails scrambling along the buzzcut until she forfeits and clamps her hand behind his ears, head thrown back to knock against the wall. If he were a nice man, he would spend hours buried between her legs. Sated by licking her slick from its source, like a kitten given a bowl of cream. Would make her cum until she forgets how to keep quiet, until she screams his name loud enough for the world knows their muse is off the market now.
But if he were a nice man, he wouldn't be defiling her here. He would've taken her out to the Greek place that never seems to have room for him alone, and then back to her apartment, where he'd drop her off with a chaste kiss and a promise to call her tomorrow.
So Simon combs through her lips once, twice, three times. Coats her in enough spit to be able to shove two fingers with little fuss, and scissors them apart. The little thing stretches to accommodate his ministrations immediately, clutch swallowing him up to the second knuckle and sucking around him when he spreads her hole for his leering eye. It's cute – so fucking cute how she clenches and keens and cries. Neck arched up above him. Apple of eden, blank canvas. His fingers leave her cunt as he rises to bite into it.
(Truthfully, she could've done with more prep. She wasn't lying when she said she doesn't do this often, whatever this is. But the way silver pebbles brim on her lash-line makes his chest twist, the dog rearing on its haunches, ready to pounce – and he thinks he'd like to see her babble in pain as he splits her open on his cock.)
"Gonna take you home after this, y'hear? Fuck you well 'n' good, all proper like. Fold ya over a mattress and print my cock on your guts, birdie. Never let you forget it. "
"S-Si! Simon, please. I n-need..."
Ichor beads in the shape of his teeth, streaking oxygenated red down her throat. He makes a mess of it, smearing it across the marred patch of skin, and brings the fluid up to her face to rub it into her cheek. The type of marking he'd reserve for his third or fourth going with someone – if anyone ever lasts that long – but is absolutely necessary right now. Here, with her. Technically their hundredth something time together, if he were deranged enough to count the various times he'd spent himself over her spreads.
But nothing can supersede the truth of the matter. He streaks blood along her face and licks it off in a show of merciless possession. Pretty things like her get plucked off streets and ruined everyday, despite her cynicism on her value, and he can point to at least three other men by name who would slaughter to be in his place. Best to stake his claim now, clamp a collar on the exotic fowl he pulled down from the sky.
"Need wha', hm?" His tongue laps at her cheek, laving over the contour of her nose and swiping right under her eye to catch the tears that freely fall. She winces when he gets too close, hands faltering along his waistband.
"Your... d-dick. Please, please. Just wanna be fucked, Simon."
He plants a rough kiss onto her mouth, all teeth and tongue, and finally ladles himself free of his jeans.
Just wanna be fucked.
Daft, silly girl.
She should've chosen anyone else.
It takes a bit of pressure to feed himself into her cunt, pinning either leg to the sides of his hips as he guides his cock toward the opening. If she was putty before, she's positively liquid now, boneless rag doll slumped onto him. Dead weight. Letting him take control of this fight. Content to do nothing, slack-jawed and empty eyed as her hot walls come to embrace him completely. Her breath halts, the air recalibrating to just the sound of his ragged grunts, and he considers it an invitation to wrap a fist around her neck.
"I'll do more than jus' fuck you, pretty thing. Won' ever let you out of my sight."
And he means it.
It's impossible to withdraw completely from her – vacuum sealed too tight, too good, around him. So he fucks in short thrusts instead, snapping his pelvis back, only to shove forward once her legs begin to flail about. It's brutal even by his standards, rough in a way that supplants pleasure with pain. A small pity surfaces when her lip trembles, discomfort wringing her darling face up like a dish towel. Wet and pathetic, but he sneaks his free hand down to knead at her swollen clit anyway.
Like oil, it slips and hardens, tense enough that he knows she won't last long if he keeps it up.
Simon feels his own release encroaching. Unfurling at the base of his spine to form something cruel and primal. His vision tunnels to fixate on her – not the filthy bathroom or the lewd squelch of her pussy taking him in. Not the banging on the door by a customer desperately needing to piss, or otherwise, her bodyguard concerned at the choked screams carved from her lungs. Just her. Little bird.
The howling in his head doesn't stop, but it sure as hell quiets down when she soaks the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. Squirts, off-white fluid gushing from her and trickling onto the tiled floor. His movements grow stilted, off-rhythm, at the sight. His want grows claws and scales, grows wants that have wants. Beastly. He sees red.
"N-noghonbirfcontraahl." She gasps, suffocated still by the fingers pressing crescent-shaped scars beneath her jaw.
"Don' give a shit." He growls, then cums.
(Really, he doesn't. To see her swell up with his child is just one more added temptation, carrot on a stick. He bucks like a rabid animal and bookmarks that thought away for later.)
His seed doesn't stay put when he pumps her full of it. It gathers and drips out of her, undeterred by the barrage of his softening cock. When he pulls out, it draws milky treks down her legs. There's the instinct to shovel it back into her, tape her lips shut until the spend takes; but as he pockets her panties and helps her readjust her dress (after polishing himself clean on the expensive fabric), he finds he quite likes the thought of parading her around like this.
"C'mon," He nips her earlobe. "let's walk you home."
Simon does end up making good on his promise. They hardly get any sleep that night, sweating on every available surface her flat affords. By the end of it, she's so tuckered out that he has to lift her to bed. Hardly cognisant as he strips to his boxers and sidles up right next to her.
What doesn't escape her notice, however, is when he pulls his phone out to snap a picture of her like this. Fucked to oblivion, puffy pussy oozing about three loads worth of cum.
"W-what are you–" Stuttered. Panicked, like a pet that has at last realised it's been caged.
"Shhhh, birdie. You're my model, ain't you? Let me show you off, yeah? Won' let it get into the wrong hands."
"Promise?" She whimpers, tucking into his broad chest. She isn't in the condition to give her proper assent, but he takes it anyway, kissing both eyes and carding his fingers across her scalp.
"Promise." He mutters, then sends the portrait off. "Jus' to men like me."
Sgt. Garrick: ?! Is that Capt. Price: Christ, Simon. Someone ought to muzzle you. Johnny: I don't believe you. Johnny: Pick up my calls. Johnny: SIMON.
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No Hard Feelings - Carlos Sainz Jr
Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lewis said there's no hard feelings between them. These things happen in life. So when Lewis' girlfriend just so happens to cheat on him with Carlos, there's no hard feelings there either? After all these things happen.
Sidenote: There is some sweet and genuinely caring moments from Carlos but his motive is still to hurt Lewis.
Warnings/themes: Manipulation/coercion, cheating, smut, revenge, very naive!reader
No part 2 requests please
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The world knows Carlos is hurting and he's on a mission to get another seat before the end of the season, preferably before the end of the month would be great but that's fairly optimistic.
Really he knows he can't blame Lewis. But the feelings of hatred and rage that fill him when he sees the Brit are surely warranted. He would've had that contract in the bag if it wasn't for that twat. All he needed was for Ferrari to keep him that one season before 2026 and his Audi contract was there. Could Lewis not have just waited?
Now Carlos is aware that bringing an innocent bystander into the mess and drama of F1 isn't fair. Especially when that said bystander is Lewis' girlfriend.
Y/n y/l/n.
Oh she's perfect. Young, innocent, a real sweetheart.
Not really the type most would imagine Lewis going for. He's usually after the bold, confident and loud type. Y/n is very softly spoken and her sweet nature seems to make her almost Bambi-like, which couldn't make her anymore of a perfect match for Carlos really.
Carlos has spoken to her enough times that he thinks it's safe to say they're friends, she's so polite and seems to just have perfected how to be the perfect woman. At least in Carlos' opinion.
So he'd really like to have her for himself.
And as if y/n was summoned by the universe to help his plan along.
"Y/n, hey." Carlos greets jogging to catch up with the young woman.
"Hi, Carlos." Y/n grins always happy to just be alongside anyone.
"Where's Lewis?"
"Oh, he's not here today. He's actually sort of ill so he's been excused from media duties for the day." Y/n smiles sadly making him frown. "I know I shouldn't be here, but he's not very nice when he's sick and he said I was getting in the way and smothering him. So...I just though I'd be alright coming here."
Is the universe finally favouring him? This is too perfect.
"That's not very nice of him." Carlos frowns making her shrug. "You can spend the day with me if you want, get a sneak peak at Ferrari."
"I don't know..." Y/n winces trying to be polite but clearly she's trying to be smart.
"Come on, I promise you will be in such a good mood by the end of the day. You have my word." Carlos states making her sigh before she groans and tilts her head for a moment. "Come on, it will be fun. I promise."
"Mmm..." Y/n smiles before seeming to move over with a small nod and smile. "Ok. It does sound like you're making big promises though."
"Ah, don't doubt me though. I will follow through on it." Carlos grins watching her mirror his expression.
-
Y/n really wasn't sure what to expect but Carlos really pulled out all the stops, he got her a jacket when she was cold, he let her sit in the Ferrari which was her first time ever getting to sit in an F1 car and he made sure she was eating.
"You should come to dinner with me." Carlos states as they finally reach the end of the day.
"Now I might really be pushing it." Y/n giggles since she is sure Lewis will be asking questions. The man can be quite jealous but equally, he's the one who was mean enough for her to feel like she needed to leave.
"We have to a have proper ending to our day." Carlos smiles then deciding that he may need to pull in aid. "If you don't want it to be just us then we could bring Lando? He's never got plans."
"He doesn't?"
"No." Carlos nods before pausing. "I will go double check and then we can figure out where we're going."
"No. No. It's fine. We're adults." Y/n states shaking her head quickly.
Carlos looks at her for a moment because it really seems like she's trying to convince herself that this is all fine more than himself.
When they get to dinner, Carlos is watching her carefully uncertain of what she's going to do but while at first she was pretty talkative and eager then toward the end she's gone quiet and seems at a bit of a loss.
"Dessert?" Carlos making her hesitant since they did ask for dessert menus and y/n initially looked really eager but something changes.
"No. I'm full. Thank you though." Y/n smiles closing the menu. "Need to stop my eyes being too big for my belly."
"What if we split it? That way you still get dessert but you don't have to feel too full."
"Ok, that sounds good." Y/n nods biting her lip a little.
And so they get a cheesecake of her choice before splitting it, though Carlos make sure it's slightly more than him.
"I'll walk you back." Carlos states making her smile at him.
"You're very sweet."
"You think?"
"Yes." Y/n mumbles almost shyly while Carlos links their hands and smiles brightly at her, especially watching her get a little flustered over his action.
"You know...I could treat you very good." Carlos states deciding to just put it out there. "I think we'd be good together."
Y/n can't even manage an "oh" she's just stunned to silence but Carlos picked his moment well and she's left at Lewis' hotel door with a kiss on her cheek and Carlos walking away leaving his words to marinate.
Y/n stands at the hotel door for long enough that George appears and knocks her to her senses.
"You alright?" George chuckles noticing her completely out of it.
"Y-Yeah, just...tired and Lewis is ill so I don't know if I want to go back in there." Y/n smiles before she swallows thickly and looks at him for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow, Georgie."
"Bye, y/n." George smiles though when she steps into the room he sighs shaking his head.
In a fairly universal opinion, Lewis and y/n are ill-matched to say the least. While Lewis is a kind, caring and happy man, he's not good at handling y/n's slightly younger and much more naive personality. It's not that they're a bad couple, it's just any time you see them it feels wrong that they're together.
"Lewis?" Y/n calls walking into the hotel room to find him up and seemingly ready for a workout. "What's...going on?"
"I feel better, I was going to hit the gym. Are you coming?"
"O-Oh yeah, I'll join in." Y/n nods before she finds him walking towards her, inked hands cupping her face.
"I'm sorry for earlier, it wasn't nice to be horrible to you when you were just trying to help me feel better." Lewis sighs quickly pecking her lips. "What did you do all day?"
"I...I went to the paddock, just kept myself busy. A few of the other drivers noticed I was on my own so they kept me company a bit."
"That's nice."
"Yeah...Anyway, I'll just change then we can go." Y/n mumbles making him smile and kiss her again.
-
Carlos had been in her head, and every time she saw him he was already looking at her. The internal panic was like a fire in her chest.
Somehow her attempts at avoiding him were nothing but failure and she found herself almost constantly bumping into him, small touches on her waist were making her focus far too much. Somehow he'd even managed to get close enough to be whispering in her ear.
Carlos has gotten more ballsy and unapologetic in his attempts to get in her head and much to her shame, it's very effective.
It's even earned Lewis' attention and he's not exactly happy about it.
So confronting Carlos was hard, and she had to do it when Lewis was guaranteed to be busy. So...while he's asleep.
Creeping out the hotel and moving around to get herself to Carlos' hotel and then to his room isn't exactly a simple task but she manages it, knocking on his door for a few minutes before Carlos appears very much freshly awoken and half naked.
"Y/n?" Carlos smirks clearly feeling fairly amused by her presence. "What can I help you with?"
"You-you have to stop. Lewis is getting upset. You-You whisper in my ear and you're always touching me." Y/n stresses walking in the room as he slowly closes the door walking to follow her but with her back turns, he takes the opportunity.
"Do you tell him what I say?" Carlos questions making her swallow as he pulls her back against himself, hands holding her tightly as he moves a hand up to her neck gently tipping her head back as he kisses her neck.
"N-No."
"What do you think he'd say if he knew?"
Y/n doesn't even get a word out.
"You're not even trying to stop me, y/n. I bet if I got you on that bed or bent you over, you'd let me have whatever I want from you." Carlos state while she whimpers.
He's been waiting, slowly making her want him and while she thinks she's been making the effort to avoid him. He's noticed her constantly looking for him.
"You can't even force yourself to say no." Carlos chuckles before he decides to be quick, there is still the risk of her coming to her sense. Her morals may have yet to risk to the surface and only be delayed by jet lag.
He's got her underdressed kneeling on the sofa, resting her arms on the back in less than a minute. Wasting time is not going to be on his agenda for finally hitting the nail into the coffin of winning her over. Or if no winning her over then at least ending the relationship between her and Lewis.
"What do you want?" Carlos questions making her stutter on a breath.
"I-I want you."
"Good. Because you've got me." Carlos smirks running his hand down between her legs and feeling enough wetness to be more accurately called a waterfall.
Usually he'd be one to indulge in foreplay but on this occasion he's still not aiming to waste time. Plus he can always enjoy that part in the morning. He intends for her to find it a struggle to get out of bed anyway.
"Carlos." Y/n whimpers, her body pliable with his touch and when he pushes into her.
He know his reasons for doing this are less than flattering on his character, but he ever thought his name could ever sound that good from her lips. She's already pulsing around him from the sudden intrusion but he can't wait to give her time to adjust as much as he wants to.
The feeling of her wrapped around him so tightly. An unhinged feral side to him, as if her can't get deep enough or far enough into her. His hands surely have a bruising grip on her waist but her moans aren't giving away any pain. At least no pain that isn't at least accompanied by equal amounts of pleasure.
Y/n is drown by her orgasm, her body rigid as every nerve ending is hit with an amount of pleasure they leaves her spasming around him. Only Carlos isn't nearly done and he won't allow himself the finish until he feels like y/n is at least half way to gone.
He wants her half way to a lost voice and unaware of her surroundings.
Y/n body begins to try and squeeze her thigh together in an attempt to control herself in some way, only for Carlos' hand to come down, lifting her and forcing them apart, earning a moan as one hand reaches further brushing her clit which sends a shoot of electricity through her. The quickly tightening reaction around his cock only making him push deeper into her. Her voice getting lost as she tries to find some way to ground herself, nails actually poking holes into the upholstery.
She's only halfway recovered from her first orgasm when Carlos sits moving her over to straddle him before practically slamming her down on himself.
"Carlos." Y/n pants the fullness from a new angle whines a hand going up to his thick locks, a slight burn of his scalp from the tugging but it only adds to that lack of control he's maintaining over himself. He really can't help the brutal pace he's setting for both of them.
He actually thinks he could go all night when she cums again, the wetness almost enough to be splashing them both.
By the time he has her on the bed, she's about folded in half and the puffiness of her pussy from his unending appetite is beginning to feel addictive. The position gives him all access to rubbing and pinching her clit while leaning down and kissing, marking and Another orgasm that seems to be bordering on the fine line of pleasure and pain from overstimulation makes her moan in a way that sends him over the edge.
When he cums he feels her absolutely milking it from him before he finally releases her legs still feeling her spasm around him in the aftershocks of her orgasm.
"Ah ah." Y/n winces as Carlos slowly eases out of her.
The sight of his cum leaking out of her is almost enough to get him hard again but he manages to tear his gaze from her pussy up to her face, leaning over her and capturing her in a kiss that she eagerly and needily returns.
Y/n is in a coating of sweat, quite similar to himself.
"Can you get up?" Carlos asks making her wince just at the though.
A very weak nod is managed in answer before she finds herself gently pulled up and very much held tightly as he supports her weight, getting them both into the shower where he cleans her up with a much more soft touch than she'd just been treated with.
-
Neither discussed the matter of their actions, y/n is very much latched onto him as she sleeps. Her hold on him almost impressive.
Carlos sighs playing with her strands of hair as she sleeps against him.
She really is the most innocent and sweet young woman. Although he can't possibly erase the image of her only hours ago. Her whole body is washed of the physical memory, unless you count the bruises from his hands. Was he really holding her that tightly?
His alarm went off a few minutes ago, but pulling himself away from the very much unconscious young woman is proving to be harder than he expected. Eventually he manages it with some detangling of her limbs and replacing himself with his pillows.
She stirs but not enough to wake and he showers quickly before dressing. He can't even stop himself from leaning over and stealing a kiss before going to leave, only...for an idea to pop into his mind. An evil one but an idea nonetheless.
Taking y/n's hotel card and putting her clothes under the mattress of the second bed. He wants her to be left with no options to be spotted.
-
Stealing joggers and being left with only an option of Ferrari branded clothes, y/n is hiccuping in a meltdown of tears and with her phone left in Lewis' room to make sure he couldn't find her. She's at a loss of things she can do.
Y/n pulls the hood up and uses stolen sunglasses to hide her face as much as possible but Charles of everyone spots and recognises her.
"Y/n! Where have you-"
Y/n's hand slaps over his mouth with a hissing shush ass he pushes him back between two units.
"Where is Lewis?" Y/n whispers making Charles look at her. "Oh for-Where's Carlos?"
"Why do you want-oh." Charles winces as he connections the dots of the silent question he'd wanted to ask about her choice of CS55 mercy. "Y/n..."
"Charles please. I just-I need to dodge Lewis and find Carlos." Y/n hiccups making him sigh. He really does not want to be involved in any drama between his present and future teammates, but y/n's desperation is pulling on his heart strings.
"Carlos is in the unit. Come with me." Charles nods offering his hand and pulling her quickly while she continues to try and hang herself.
He's takes her to Carlos' room where the other Ferrari driver is working out.
"You have a guest, I found her running through the paddock." Charles states catching attention from the Spaniard who stands up smiling at y/n with not apology in his expression. "I do not want to be involved."
"Amor, you look quite a sight." Carlos chuckles pulling the sunglasses off of her while Charles makes his exits after his very clear statement.
"Carlos, what-what we did-Lewis is going to be so upset."
"I see...you want to stay with him." Carlos sighs sadly, withdrawing from holding her making her lip tremble. "I will find you something to wear. He has been looking for you, asking everyone to be on the look out for you. You should speak with him."
"No-I-" Y/n chokes out, her panic in her voice very evident. Emotions overwhelming her but Carlos helps her out of the Ferrari hoodie and into an all white one.
"You should go. Lewis wants to see you and know you're ok."
"Carlos, please." Y/n sniffles trying to reach for him but he catches her hand between both of her own and gently pushes it back.
"See him. If last night is all I get with you, I understand and I respect that." Carlos states making her look at him for a moment before she rubs her eyes with the sleeves. "You can keep the joggers and hoodie."
There's hurt, he's hurting her but really he knows she'll be back. Not because of the sex but because he can see she's caught feelings for him even when she knows she should love someone else. At some point, and most likely soon it will come to a point that she can't keep lying to herself or to Lewis.
-
Lewis somehow bought the story that y/n had gone sleep walking and been found by another hotel goer who took her in for the night. A sweet old lady who'd apparently had a few drinks and was feeling charitable. Though she couldn't look Charles in the eye again since the only time she did while it being obvious that she'd gone back to Lewis and lied, he was not impressed with her for it.
Carlos however, she's even been caught in 4k looking at him longingly with tearful eyes.
Lewis has noticed things have been off with y/n, but it's only triggered jealousy from him. More possessiveness and a constant hovering over her. Thankfully when she lied about being on her period to try and dodge sex so he didn't spot the bruises from her night with Carlos, he didn't even question it.
It's almost amusing for Carlos to watch knowing that he's the threat and yet Lewis is under the false understanding that there is still no hard feelings between them.
Y/n sighs as she dips a carrot into some humous, watching Lewis and Roscoe on his sofa as Lewis looks at something on his phone the breaking point hits.
"I cheated on you." Y/n states breaking the silence which had otherwise been filled by Roscoe's heavy breathing.
"You what?" Lewis laughs not even believing that someone could cheat on him.
"I'm sorry...I tried to lie-I did lie. I've lied and I'm so sorry. But I can't keep doing this." Y/n mumbles shaking her head as tears well up. "I should've told you the truth from the moment it happened."
"When did it happen?"
"When...I went missing...I didn't sleep walk, I waited till you were asleep and I left."
Lewis just looks at her clearly visibly shocked.
"So what do you want?" Lewis questions making her look at him for a moment. "You want to leave."
"I'm sorry Lewis..."
"You should go then." Lewis states which makes her swallow thickly. "Do you need me to arrange a flight?"
"No. I'll handle it. I'll figure out a way to come get my stuff at some point too."
-
Lewis is far too old to be making public statements about a break up. He doesn't think his personal life is anything to do with the fans or public anyway.
Y/n disappeared anyway, and honestly it was hard seeing all her stuff laying around apartment while he waits for it to eventually disappear.
"I don't know if it's a good idea." Y/n mumbles as she sits in Carlos' house that is far from Monaco but instead near Madrid instead.
"I want you at the next race. I want you there. Who cares what other people have to say about it?" Carlos frowns then cupping her face. "I'm happy to finally have you for myself, amor. I want you with me always."
"But how will I look?"
"People hated you dating Lewis, people will hate you for not dating him." Carlos shrugs making her sigh and roll her eyes only to squeak when he smacks her ass. "Do not roll your eyes at me with that attitude. I only want to see them rolling when I'm between your legs, yes?"
"Carlos." Y/n gasps, the vulgarity of his words certainly shocking her.
"I mean it."
-
Carlos arriving with y/n immediately earned attention and Lando wasted 0.1 of a second just so he could get himself over to the two and shake his head.
"You are a bad man, Carlos." Lando laughs shaking his head before he smiles at y/n. "Hey, y/n."
"Hi, Lando." Y/n smiles nervously, as always trying to be polite but her grip on Carlos' hand is actually almost tight enough to be hurting him which is actually a little impressive.
"Alright, man we have to go but I will see you later." Carlos smiles since Lando wasn't the British man whose name begins with an L that he was really aiming to gain the attention of.
"We'll have to catch up later." Lando hums moving away looking very much amused and like he's about to go gossip with as many drivers will listen.
"Stop being so stressed." Carlos assures the young woman.
"Sorry...I am happy to be here with you. I swear." Y/n smiles making him hum managing to spin her before pulling her back against himself finally earning a laugh.
"Whatever I have to do to earn your smile. I will do it. Sí?"
"Sí." Y/n confirms before giggling then kissing him smiling when he shameless grabs her ass and when he opens his eyes feeling a burning gaze on then his teeth even nip at her bottom lip as he pulls away.
Lewis' dark eyes show are filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. A toxic combination. Carlos will have to be careful on track but somehow he can't find himself feeling guilty about it.
"Let's get go." Carlos smiles making her grin at him. None the wiser to their onlooker. "Come on."
-
"You stole his girlfriend." Lando sighs shaking his head as they walk to the truck for the driver's parade. "I can't believe it."
"I didn't steal anyone's anything. She chose me." Carlos shrugs then smirking. "These things happen and like he says, there's no hard feelings. It's not personal."
Lando just laughs shaking his head.
"She is a very sweet woman. Everyone knows they were wrong for each other."
"But she's right for you?"
"Well she certainly agrees with that and I want her more than he did."
And he did want her more, he wanted her whole being and he'll make sure that every single day for the rest of his life, he keeps her just to make sure Lewis can never have her again. Not that he thinks y/n could find it in herself to make such a walk of shame back to Lewis if the relationship did end.
Thankfully she seems to have gotten over her worries and guilt thanks to Carlos' constant effort to make sure she is too focused on him to give a fuck about anyone else.
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wlntrsldler · 23 hours
Text
THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN
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synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.
series masterlist | previous | next
Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.
"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"
There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.
Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.
"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."
"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 
Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 
Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.
Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."
Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 
His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.
"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.
You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.
"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."
He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.
"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."
Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."
"Maybe."
"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."
You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"
"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 
Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"
"In a few hours."
"Oh."
"Are you upset?"
"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."
"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."
"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."
"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 
"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.
He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.
Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 
“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 
“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 
“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 
“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 
He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 
“You are more than what your father thinks.” 
He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 
When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 
There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 
“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.
“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 
Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 
Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.
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Hungover: knight!price x princess!reader
"Do you need a bucket?"
"Don't speak to me right now."
Sir John Price didn't try to hide his smile as he stood in the solar near the couch where you laid sprawled out. You had called him there so you could out early in the morning, however you ended confining yourself to the couch with a shawl covering your eyes.
"How are you not bedridden like me?" You groaned and he chuckled.
"Because," He began. He walked to the door and opened it, luckily catching one of the servants and asking her to bring you tea before he shut the door again. "I have a tolerance. You've barely drank more than a cup of wine in your life."
"Don't speak about alcohol, I may be sick."
Price scoffed and walked back over to you. He glanced around the room, shutting the curtains enough to where most of the sunlight was hidden but still illuminated the room before he turned to you. He knew there was no way you were going outside today, maybe not even outside the solar.
Because of that he felt a little out of place. You had no need for him, even if he wanted to stay. It would be a very bad look on you if he were stay around when you didn't need him and he didn't want to jeopardize you. There was also nothing he could do in the solar; he couldn't embroider or play chess because you were not capable.
There were the books but he'd rather do something else to torture himself with them.
"Should I leave, your highness?" He wondered but you shook your head.
"Keep me company. I won't fall asleep." You said softly.
"Do you believe that's wise?"
You peeked at him from behind the shawl and saw his concerned look. He glanced at the door again, saying it without saying it, and you thought for a long moment.
"Servants see everything but they seldom speak to anyone about it." You assure him as you placed the shawl back over your eyes. "And if I tell them I want you here, then they won't question it."
Price hummed, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he took a seat. You wanted him here.
"Should've brought my cards." He stretched out in the chair and looked through the crack of the curtains.
"You're free to the books." You gestured vaguely to the room before you brought the shawl down from your eyes. "I know, you could read to me."
Price's eyes widened and he looked at you with surprise. His mouth went a little dry as you stared at him with genuine joy at the idea yet he couldn't return it.
"You want to listen to me?" He wondered and you nodded.
"I'll fall asleep otherwise." You argued softly, though you weren't going to admit he might put you to sleep as well.
As much as he wanted to argue he could see that you weren't going to back down. He knew you wouldn't but now he was trapped, backed into a corner with no way to recover from this.
He could only imagine what you would say to him. What you might think, the crown princess of pure noble blood, would do when you found out the best knight in the realm's secret.
Regrettably he stood and walked to the shelf, staring at the many spines of the books.
"What should I read to you?" He's not sure why he asked, it's not like he would be able to pick out the right one.
"It doesn't matter, I've read them all." You hummed and you situated yourself more comfortably. "Which reminds me, I need to get different books soon."
Price hummed, noting that as he pulled out a random book. He eyed the cover, the engraved words meaning nothing to him as he felt himself grow even more nervous.
Perhaps he could come up with an excuse to leave...no he couldn't. He didn't want to hurt your feeling to save his pride.
"This one?" He held it up so you could see.
"Oh, that's one of my favorites! Good choice, Sir John." You smile and he sucked in his lips as his heart sunk.
"Alright..."
Price sat back in his chair and flipped the book open, pointedly ignoring your expectant stare as he stared at the first page. He couldn't even begin to guess what any of the words meant, only being able to recognize "the" "and" and "a". On maps he just memorized what others called the names on them, for letters he made Kyle write them. Here he had no crutch, nothing to fall back on and he shifted uncomfortably.
"Can you read, Sir John?" Your voice was softer but he couldn't look at you.
"No, your highness." He admitted and shut the book.
"Did your father not teach you?" You titled your head with confusion. "All squires get an education."
He couldn't lie anymore. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the cover of the book.
"I was very fortunate that the lord who took me in did, but I was already of age to start training, so I didn't have the time."
Your eyes widened with realization.
"You weren't born a noble?"
"No."
You stayed silent and Price found it hard not to feel some sort of shame. He hadn't deliberately lied, it was just that everyone had assumed he was fully noble without question. He grew up hidden among them, seeing a part of life he hadn't even dreamed of knowing that many of the other knights he had trained with would deny his nobility simply because his parents were peasants.
He knew how quickly things would fall apart if anyone found out, even if he was the best knight.
Now you knew.
It was another nail in the coffin of his unattainable desires. Not only was he a knight but he was technically a peasant. Your mother would punish you harder, which meant it was a good thing it'd never come to be.
Though he could only imagine how much this changed how you saw him.
"Why are you ashamed?" You sat up slowly and he finally glanced at you.
"You're not that naïve. Many would see me as a false knight despite my best efforts." He explained and you looked at him with soft yet serious eyes.
"Do their opinion mean more than your skills?"
Price's eyebrows knitted together and he looked at you for a moment. He had never thought about it that way but in reality the only thing that mattered to him was that the job got done, and that the crown was safe. That you were safe.
When he shook his head you nodded with finality.
"It shouldn't matter anyway. A knight's value is in his skill and you're incredibly well trained and brave." You said and he looked away bashfully. "If I heard such nonsense I wouldn't let it stand."
"You flatter me, your highness." He flashed you a nervous smile and you returned it.
"Better than barbaric."
He scoffed and nodded but couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't like that you knew but seeing that you didn't care made him feel somewhat better. And knowing how you think of him took most of the embarrassment away.
He grabbed the book and stood up to put it back when you spoke.
"I'll teach you to read." You stated and he looked at you incredulously.
"I can't ask you to do that-"
"You didn't. I said I would."
Somehow you always managed to surprise him in the strangest ways possible. He watched you sigh in thought as you lounged back down on the couch and situate yourself more comfortably.
You stared at him with an unreadable look in your eyes that made him shift on his feet.
"Once I'm better." You smiled and closed your eyes. "Now tell me a story, or we'll both waste away from boredom."
He stared at you, unsure yet he couldn't help the way that his shoulders felt less tense and how...excited he felt to be able to read in the future.
The things he could do for you once he could would be endless.
"A story, eh? This one will be better than your books."
A/n: Sir John Price is not a poet and yet maybe he might write you something someday
Tags: @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze @waiting-so-long @sofasoap
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aezuria · 3 days
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Hi! could you do a daughter of hadez! reader x leo valdez headcannons or one shot? Like the reader is really gloomy and Leo is the only one that gets her to smile (like nico and will oops)
*ੈ✎ turn that frown upside down!
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content: leo valdez x daughter of hades! reader
╰┈▸ warnings: canon divergent probably, a few cuss words
librarian's annotations: so i was stuck between making that daughter of hades fic with jason angsty or this one, guess which one i did ! (he can never be not tragic im sorry) anyways SO SOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HOPE U LIKE IT
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you were not the most joyous person; at least that's what it looked like to other people.
like, did anyone ever see you smile?
(probably nico, but that's about it)
well, leo valdez took that as a challenge
a pretty girl like you with a perpetual frown on her face? he'd turn that frown upside down!
(or so he hoped)
you picked at your food, sitting alone at the hades table once again; nico sneaking off to who knows where doing gods know what
leo took his chance and approached you, not caring about the assigned seating rule
i mean, he couldn't just let you sit there all alone!
"hey there," leo slid onto the bench in front of you, his elbow on the desk as he tried to act all suave.
who is this bumbling fool? you looked up from your food, an ever present glare in your eyes.
yikes, leo thought, laughing awkwardly. "you looked a little lonely, so i wanted to keep you company. is that alright?"
normally (as normal for an abnormal situation like this) you'd tell them to go fuck right off. but maybe you were in a miss-your-brother mood, or maybe you were just hungry and not thinking straight.
regardless, you gave him a shrug and took a bite out of your food. that wasn't a complete no.
scandalous gasps echoed through the pavilion. leo had already gotten their attention when he broke the rule, but you letting him stay? now that was absolutely unbelievable!
you turned your sharp gaze around the hall, wondering what the sudden rise in chatter was about. (they all took it as a sign to shut up because no one wanted to see the daughter of death mad)
your unbothered ass kept on eating because it was hitting especially hard today like-
"so..." leo trailed off, fingers tapping against the table as he tried to come up with something quickly. "who's your godly parent? mine's hephaestus, i found that out like, yesterday."
"hades," you answered shortly. you thought it would be obvious with your whole vibe, but maybe to a newcomer it wasn't. and you were a bit glad it wasn't, because no one bothered to talk to you once they found out.
"oh! yeah that should've been obvious, huh?" leo laughed sheepishly.
you nodded, the mostly one-sided conversation extending for a painstakingly long time.
"y/n!" leo waved eagerly once he caught sight of you leaving your cabin.
you startled, about to look over your shoulder to see who he was waving at as if he didn't just yell out your name. you put up your hand in a weak attempt at saying hello. you were about to go and start walking again when he ran towards you calling, "wait!"
you stopped short and turned back around to see him sprinting towards you. (guess all that running away was good for something)
he put his hands on his knees dramatically and gasped for breath. (maybe not?) leo straightened up, a bright grin on his face. "where are ya going? can i come with?"
you were off to go brood in the woods or something; not much of a two-person job. but for some reason, you couldn’t say no to his cheerful smile.
”sure.” you turned and went to walking again.
he scampered after you excitedly. “great! so what are we doing? do you wanna see this cool bunker i found? look at this bracelet i made! do you want it? i can make another so we match!”
you were a little overwhelmed with the amount of topic changes that happened in a matter of seconds. it was like a conversation with him made up for all the social interaction you deprived yourself of. it was quite endearing, if you were being honest. (maybe you didn't want to be all mysterious and nonchalant anymore! was that so bad?)
principle was principle after all.
"we can go to your bunker if you want," you said after he finally gave you a chance to speak. it's not like what you were about to do was any more interesting.
you didn't know how it was possible, but he smiled even wider. "really!? great! it's this way!" he took your hand and ran in the direction he pointed.
(and if your heart skipped a beat as he did so? well, that was for your information only)
"you like?" leo swung the door open and swooped an arm out proudly. "i'm still cleaning it up so it's a little messy, but there's so much cool stuff here! i don't know why nyssa didn't tell me about this. also! look at this dragon i found! his name's festus!"
he ran over to an astoundingly large bronze dragon. to say you were impressed would be an understatement.
"whoa."
"i know right!?"
"why do you always have a frown on your face?" leo asked one day. his hands itching to tug the corners of your mouth upward.
what? "i'm not frowning. this is my normal face." your face knitted in confusion.
he blew out a sigh, shaking his head in response. "seriously?"
"why would i be joking?" you deadpanned. but maybe that was also your normal voice.
"so like, everyone thinks you're mad at them when you're really just looking at them?"
"wait, people think i'm mad at them?"
"..."
"leo?"
"..obviously, i was not about to just sit there and take that, like it would so not fit my super cool, super funny, super hot and manly vibe-" he cut himself off once he heard a giggle to his right. he looked over to see you, a soft smile on your face.
he thinks he could've died a happy man right then and there. did he, leonidas valdez, just manage to make you smile? and not just that, but laugh? his life goal was complete. zeus could strike him down right there and he'd welcome elysium with open arms.
but of course, he just had to play it cool and not act like he was totally head over heels.
"did i hear a laugh from you?" leo smirked and nudged your shoulder. "y/n, do you think i'm funny? i mean, who wouldn't, right? i'm just hilarious!" he teased.
"shut up," you hid your smile behind your hand as you tried to wipe it off.
"aww!" leo drew you in for a hug, completely forgetting his "play it cool" attitude. he felt you stiffen in his arms, and he immediately let go and scooted back. "i'm so sorry! i don't know why i did that! did i make you uncomfortable? sorry!"
seeing his flustered expression brought yet another smile to your face. (or maybe it was just him in general) "i was just surprised. i liked it, leo."
fuck. if he looked at your precious face a second longer, he'd have to confess his undying love for you right then and there. and there was a lot he had to say.
but actions did speak louder than words. "can i kiss you?"
"yeah."
gods be damned, that boy could kiss.
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maapllee · 3 days
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All The Stars~ PT.3
BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.3
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A/N: I love this part n I love writing for y'all, you guys are so sweet. I know I said this part would come out a few weeks ago, but my kitten contacted parvo virus. I hope you guys understand :<
P.S: I'd like to add that one of the next parts will have slightly suggestive themes, nothing too descriptive.
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ALL THE STARS PT.1 | ALL THE STARS PT.2
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You groaned, jolting awake from what you thought was a short nap. The sun was blazing, hot on your skin now. Your head and throat throbbed- you were dehydrated and miserable. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you took in your surroundings.
Bakugou shut the door to his dorm so hard the walls shook. His muscular back rested against the wooden door. He closed his eyes, panting. The book in his hands felt like concrete, heavy and cold. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. Opening the book, he took in the pages- pages and pages of sketches of himself sitting idly in class. He had to admit, you had some real talent there. He looked so calm, taking notes while resting his chin on his palm.
Meanwhile, you pulled your knees towards yourself, taking a minute to recall the past few hours. Eyes widening, you frantically searched around as you remembered you had set your sketchbook down- it would be no short of a disaster if anyone opened that book. Maybe it wasn't THAT great of an idea to carry said book out of your dorm room. Shit. Bakugou pulled Kirishima into his dorm room, his heart beating in his temples now. "Woah, I didn't think L/N would be the one who was putting those gifts in your locker! I can't say I'm surprised though, you guys are so thoughtful with each other." Kirishima nodded. "Thoughtful with wHO, I can't fuckin stand her. She's so annoying and dumb and stupid, almost stupider than Deku." Bakugou shouted, hands on his cheeks.
"Yeah, totes bro." Kirishima deadpanned, patting Bakugou's back. "So, when're ya asking her out? There are a couple good movies in the theatre or that new cafe down the street... We should ask Denki, he looks like the kinda dude to have this kinda experience", Kirishima rambled on and on, which all went over the blond's head, too busy calming the thumping in his chest, his head steaming.
Shaking his head, Bakugou took a deep breath in. "Fuck that, We have training at Ground Beta in half an hour. We'd better start heading over and warming up." Bakugou said, ushering Kirishima out of his room. Closing the door shut, He put his forehead to the cool wood at the thought of facing you at the Ground- knowing you, you must be having a panic attack at the mere thought of your sketchbook being missing- fuck- now that he thought of it, that was fucking selfish of him to do. He wondered if he could slip it into your dorm room while you were on the ground- he could fake an injury or a fever or something, he'd just have to convince Aizawa Sensei. A tough task in itself.
You stood next to Uraraka at Ground Beta. You shifted your weight from one foot to another as your fingers fiddled with your hair, still anxious over how you couldn't find your sketchbook this morning. Bakugou was stretching with the boys in some distance, taking note of how you couldn't hide how anxious you were. Almost in tears, you thought about the possible scenarios. What if someone had taken your book? What if they'd shown Bakugou? What if they'd leaked it all around UA? Your hero career was as good as over.
Aizawa Sensei walked onto the ground, patting your back as he took notice of how down you were. Aizawa Sensei started reading off the pairings for training. You shook your head, taking in deep breaths while steadying yourself to get your head in the game. UA wasn't for the weak and you weren't going to let something as small as this drag you down- they were just sketches and you could always claim the book wasn't yours, un-named as the book was.
"YN/LN and Bakugou Katsuki, please make your way to the centre of Ground Beta."
You physically flinched as you grimaced at the pairing. Uraraka gave you a small push, urging you to step forward. Aizawa Sensei gave you the side eye, wondering what kind of argument you and Bakugou had again, prompting this kind of reaction from you. Little did he know, huh?
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TAGLIST: @lovra974 Thanks so much for keeping up with the series~
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acourtofthought · 2 days
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What would you say are the top 3 (or 5) strongest clues that say Elucien/Gwynriel are gonna happen? The ones that really feel so solid to you.
Ooooh, this is a good question.
For Gwynriel:
That Gwyn is the only character to treat Az's shadows as being separate from himself. It' like a guy who begins dating a girl who has children but he never pays attention to them versus the guy who goes out of his way to get to know the children, proving that he understands the girl and her children are a packaged deal.
That Az is not looking as Gwyn as someone in need of his protection. I'm sure there will be some of that in their book, mates always look out for one another, but there is a big difference between "we can do this together" versus, "I'll do it for you so you don't get hurt".
That Gwyn seems to have a bloodthirsty side to her personality, just as Az does. He can torture in a symphony of pain which means he has chosen to finesse his craft. He's not "let's get this over as quick as possible because I don't like it," it's, "I'm going to draw this out nice and slow and make it hurt in ways you never dreamed." I think he feels guilty about his enjoyment of it afterward because he thinks it makes him a bad person but I think he gets satisfaction from the actual act. Someone like Gwyn who was excited over the thought of the Valkyries cracking skulls and skewering their enemies is well matched for his brutality.
That Gwyn and Az seem to prefer a smaller group of friends over being extremely social, the life of the party. Neither seems to mind their alone time.
For Elucien, there are so many:
That Elain and Lucien share important core values. They are quick to apologize for failing others, they both prefer to avoid violence, they both enjoy being social and engaging with others. There will never be a time where they have to check up on one another, "I'm sorry, is this too overwhelming for you? We can head home if you need".
That Lucien has been loyal to Elain and only Elain ever since he found out who she was to him. No, he did not instantly love her but he chose to respect their bond while he took the time to learn about her whereas he could have easily continued his rakish ways especially after learning she was engaged to someone else. Loyalty to the FMC is sexy.
That Lucien was the one to meet Elain's father and live in the human lands. These are two enormous parts of Elain's past, things that mattered a great deal to her and it will only ever be Lucien who has insider knowledge of who her father was and what being human is about.
That SJM retconned Lucien's father so he'd have the power of the sun in his veins and had Elain constantly by the sunniest windows, as if any bit of darkness was abhorrent, claiming that she needs Sunshine.
That Elain has not yet touched or truly gotten to know Lucien. If the author wanted us to see why they were poorly matched, she would have shown them interacting. She would have shown that despite their best efforts to acknowledge their bond, they were just not fitting. Instead, she has Elain keeping Lucien at a distance book after book and I will never believe the answer to that puzzle is because "she doesn't like him," "she's clearly not interested." An author would more likely prevent two mates from interacting in a major way because she knows there is something there. She knows characters like Elain and Lucien need to remain apart because their chemistry will be obvious the second they start really talking.
Because Elain can hear Lucien's heart and because she is the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. Because he knew she needed fresh air when every single other person in the IC just accepted her being cooped up in her room for weeks. There is a connection between Elucien that is never going away and it would ruin any other romance for either character. No matter what Elain might share with someone else, Lucien is always going to hold a piece of her that the other cannot touch.
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stop-talking · 3 days
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How do you think jhutch characters would handle a baby?
I'm not quite sure if you're asking "what would they do if you handed them a baby" or "what would they do if you told them you're pregnant" but I'm gonna assume you meant the latter. (feel free to send another request if I got it wrong)
Ranking Jhutch characters from worst to best fathers:
Billy
☆ Would play dumb when you hand him the pregnancy test.
☆ "What's this? Oh, you're pregnant? Can't be mine. My pull-out game is too strong." (literally has NO pull-out game, refuses to use condoms because he "can't feel" with them on)
☆ Basically ghosts you until the paternity test proves it's his. Then he actually ghosts you.
☆ Drops off the face of the fucking Earth for years. Doesn't pay a dime in child support.
☆ Maybe he comes back like 3 years later drunk and demanding to see "his" kid idk. Literally the worst.
Derek
☆ Honestly I headcannon he had a vasectomy at like 24-25.
☆ His mom hit him up once she heard about his prostitute scandals and chewed him out. Gave him "the talk" even though he's a grown ass man... finally got him to get snipped when she brought up the possibility of paying income-based child support for 18 years.
☆ Assuming he doesn't have one, though...
☆ He'd initially be mad and blame you. "I thought you were on the pill!!"
☆ Then he'd be like "Is it too late to... you know... get rid of it?" (and kind of dance around the subject because he's too much of a wimp to just say the word abortion)
☆ Wallace and his mom would both force him to get his shit together and apologize. Eventually he'd come to terms with the fact he's gonna be a dad.
☆ He'd be the kind of bastard to throw an over-the-top gender reveal party. The kind that burns down half of California or pollutes a major water channel.
☆ I think he'd be a really good girl dad. He'd let her paint his nails and stuff. Spoil her. <3
☆ He would treat a son completely differently. Teach him to "be a man" or whatever when he's still learning to walk. Force him into random ass sports.
☆ He'd have them mostly taken care of by a nanny. That's probably how he was raised, anyways. Derek Danforth is NOT changing a diaper.
Futturman
☆ Whether we're talking pre-show or post-show, he'd freak the fuck out if you handed him a positive pregnancy test. I'm talking full-on pass out.
☆ Pre-show Josh would be like "Babe we can NOT afford a baby I literally live at home with my parents and work as a janitor."
☆ His parents would be so crazy supportive though. They've been hinting that they want grandkids for YEARS.
☆ They literally clear out a room IMMIDEATELY after hearing the news and offer it to you to use as a nursery.
☆ His mom buys you more baby clothes than you could possibly need. His dad builds a crib from scratch.
☆ Overall Josh is stressed asf but he does his best to be there for you, and his parents are OVERWHELMIGLY supportive.
☆ Post-show Josh, on the other hand, doesn't have that support. But he's survived unspeakable horrors across multiple dimensions, how hard could a baby be?
☆ Extremely hard, apparently. One day he just loses it and makes a huge decision without asking you.
☆ "Josh WTF happened to our savings??"
☆ "TRUST ME BABE we need to invest in Apple!!"
☆ You're pissed but it pays off in a few years and you're both able to live comfortably.
☆ Then in 2015-ish he did the same thing again, pouring all your savings into bitcoin. This time you SWEAR you're going to leave him, but it all pays out in the end. He gets your kid through college with that money.
☆ Overall he's a really good father, too. He had great parents, and even if he's not experienced with kids, he's naturally a very caring and attentive person.
Mike
☆ Cries when he sees the pregnancy test. He's not even sure if it's happy or sad tears.
☆ Gets sick to his stomach overthinking about how he's going to be a terrible father. His dad walked out on him, so he has literally no idea how to act.
☆ Abby, on the other hand, is absolutely delighted. She's always wanted a "little sister". Mike has to remind her that technically it's her niece. Or nephew. There's no guarantee on the gender yet.
☆ Eventually he comes to terms with it all. He's taken care of Abby for ten years, he isn't completely clueless.
☆ Takes you to all of your Dr.'s appointments, checkups, etc. Holds your hand. Makes all of your weird pregnancy cravings and doesn't judge.
☆ After the birth, he lets you rest. Nearly works himself to death trying to take care of the baby all on his own because he wants you to recover.
☆ I'm talking getting up bleary-eyed at 2am every night to microwave some formula and feed the baby. After working a 10 hour shift.
☆ Pulls the "I have a baby on the way" card at work in an attempt to get a raise. It works, thankfully. (In the novel version of the movie; it says he gets a job as a contractor at the end. So hopefully he can afford a kid...)
----------♡----------
[Remember: these are just MY headcannons. If you think differently that's fine. I didn't include Clapton because he's literally in highschool... and we all know Peeta is an amazing father.]
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Note
What happens when science experiment!reader has a nightmare? (Given her background I imagine she’d get them, right? I mean, whenever she does actually get to sleep, that is…)
Also I love you ari. You’re a gift to this fandom and I hope you’re good xxxxx
Jason woke up in a cold sweat, eyes glowing green and his heart racing. Blood singing in his ears and his muscles seized in sheer terror.
In the hall, distantly, he heard a scream. And other places he heard doors open and slam shut. Heavy steps on plush carpet.
Except the feeling didn't go away. It kept going. Pushing adrenaline through his body. Telling him to fight- when there was nothing to fight. He stifled a yell with difficulty and got out of bed. Opening his door just in time to see Bruce sprint past him "Stay, " he barked.
But- when Alfred was just ahead of him- disappearing up a different staircase that would lead to your room- well. "Like hell," he grumbled. He forced himself not to run. Not to follow years of training to run IN to danger. Into the epicenter of the panic.
And when another scream ripped through the manor, it stopped him dead. He'd heard screams. A lot of them. He'd caused them. But nothing had ever been as soul rending as that was. It made him feel like someone wrapped a frozen hand around his heart and squeezed- hard.
When he could move again, he ran.
Skidding to a halt at your door. It was like a seen from an exorcism movie- almost. You were contorted and your breathing was ragged. Crying. But instead of swearing and hurling blasphemy you were begging. Apologizing. All you wanted to do was go home.
"God damn them," Alfred swore, his hands trembling as he fumbled a kit open.
"She's too far into it now; we can't just wake her up," Bruce grunted, struggling against your sweat slick skin. Trying to get a grip on you and also respect your modesty. He glanced up to see Jason in the doorway, "Help me or get the girls. Don't just stand there."
He hesitated for a moment, and took a deep breath before stepping into the room and walking to the bed. He wanted to go home once too. "You're gonna be okay," he mumbled. "I'm scared too right now." He glanced at Bruce, "What are we doing?"
"Simple injection. It's just the nightmare cocktail. Upper thigh then recovery position," he said.
Jason nodded and helped Bruce shift you over. Realizing that the issue wasn't just that you were sweaty and wriggly but that you were stronger that average and ALSO fragile. So the extra pair of hands made it a lot simpler to hold you in place for Alfred to jab you with a device that looked a hell of a lot like an epi-pen and wait for the horrors to subside.
And gradually, they did. They could watch it happen in your body. Like a wave receding. Where there had once been an all consuming terror there was nothing. A void.
"You'll be alright now, honey," Bruce said stroking your sweat damp hair and exhaling slowly. "You're okay."
"Is she-" Jason started, not sure what he wanted to say, swallowing hard.
"She'll keep her distance for a few days," Alfred said, patting his shoulder, packing up the kit. "But she'll be alright. Lead lining in her walls only does so much."
"Lead?" he asked.
"Trying to dampen it some," Bruce said. "After her first nightmare she hid in the woods for a week afraid I was going to put her back in a cage... Sometimes I think she's still waiting to wake up to a door she can't get out of."
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bun-z-bakery · 2 days
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A/N: heres a little something extra too ;3
DogDay x reader
CW: suggestive
Bath Day
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You were off from work today, which usually means it's your day to relax with your little family or struggling to take the bigger members a bath.
Today just so happened to be the latter, and boy were they in for the surprise.
The four of you had just finished eating lunch and dogday was on dish duty today. But you just happened to be a bit too quiet.
"Angel? Are you ok?"
He calls out for you but he doesn't get a response.
Once he's done he's off to find you. You're not in the common areas so his way over to your shared room.
"Angel?"
He opens the door, revealing you behind it.
"Hey!"
You walk up to him, giving him a hug
"Guess what today is!~"
You sang as he hugged you back, you felt him freeze in place.
"But I washed dishes! Please, Angel"
He whines as you take his hand, reluctantly following you to the bathroom that's been prepared for the soon-to-be fight he would put up.
"I don't think I need a bath just ye–"
"Someone thought it would be fun to play outside in the mud while I was away"
He stands at the door while you check the water temperature and gather what you need.
"So now here we are! Plus kissy needs a bath too but you take me a while."
You laugh, using the bathing brush to point at him.
He sighs and makes his way in, he loves you he really does but he hates baths. Getting soaked made him a bit heavier, and drying off was a pain. He knows he has to though, even he admits that he smells.
"Come on the water feels nice!"
Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, he stares at you confused for a second.
"Angel! What are you doing?!"
Your clothes were now on the floor as you sat in the water, you wore an orange bathing suit with little dogs on it.
Adorable
He thought to himself as he walks closer.
"Well I figured this might make things a little bit easier for you"
You smile at him, and motion for him to sit.
He makes his way into the tub, his tail wags happily splashing some water on the floor. You didn't care, not only was he happy, but you were happy too. Who knew he'd enjoy bubbles when he wasn't whining all the time?
"Stay still!"
You playfully shout as you attempt to wash the giant dog, squirming in the tub.
"Angel that tickles!"
He laughs out, splashing you with more water.
At this point, you were both soaked from head to toe, so was the floor... and everything else but you'll deal with that later.
Later on in the day
You finished giving Kissy her bath and helped Poppy brush her hair.
Exhausted was an understatement, but you wouldn't have it any other way, you loved seeing them happy and of course, smelling nice.
"Guys, dinners almost done!"
You call out to everyone as you cut some vegetables.
Suddenly, a pair of giant hands grab onto your waist, making you jump.
"Dogday! I could've hurt you!"
You warn as you put the knife down, he doesn't let go, he takes his chance and leans down to your ear.
"Thank you, Angel~"
You gasp as he pulls you closer
"For what, exactly?"
He peppers your cheek with kisses, his tail wags viciously.
"The bath, I had fun!"
You hum in response as you try to cover your now burning-hot face.
"How about next time you don't wear an–"
"Smells good, Y/N!"
Poppy yells out as she and Kissy make their way down the stairs, you try to get out of Dogdays grip but he squeezes you before letting you go, and leans against the counter acting like nothing happened.
Kissy and Poppy poke their heads into the kitchen, you refuse to look at them.
"I thought you said you were almost done?"
She asks, sounding a bit disappointed.
You go back to cutting the vegetables
"Y-yeah I just had to quickly deal with something!"
You nervously chuckle
"All right! We'll watch some TV then!"
You nod in response, once they leave you side eye Dogday.
"What? I did nothing wrong my sweet Angel~"
He teases, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders smugly.
"The couch tonight."
You attempt to say coldly, trying to hide the smile on your face.
"You seem to be forgetting something, Angel"
"Oh and what's that?"
You laugh
"You seem to have forgotten who you belong to, hm?"
He leans to your ear once again
"Maybe you need a reminder~"
He purrs into your ear, running his fingers down the side of your neck.
Yeah, maybe you should call out of work tomorrow.
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corpupine · 9 hours
Text
I've been doing a lot of thinking...and I feel like I need to scream this out somehow even though I'm sure it's been talked about before (and I'm putting it under a readmore because it gets long).
No matter what, in any playthrough you do and any timeline you create.
UNDERTALE is a game about guilt.
You have Toriel, so guiltridden she couldn't protect her own children that she devotes herself to never letting another child leave again. And then they do!! over and over again, that guilt compounds until it's the center of her life and every choice she makes!!
And obviously Asgore, so guiltridden that he couldn't protect his own children from humans that he spends the rest of his days trying to get out and get revenge on them--as if that will stop the voices in his head saying, if you had been out there with them you could have stopped it, you could have stopped those humans from killing your children, and maybe he could have!! Or maybe not!! He'll never know and it eats him from the inside out!
Alphys, oh my sweet summer child this fandom does not deserve you!! Alphys, so guiltridden from her own perceived failures as a scientist that she began to try anything, anything to make the King happy, and it seemed to be working at first, and then it was so everlastingly worse, how can you cause something worse than death?? without even trying??
And it shows up in little ways, silly ways, too! Ways you wouldn't even think about as guilt! Undyne! She feels guilty that she won't let Papyrus join the Royal Guard so she gives him cooking lessons instead! Papyrus feels guilty that he's not in love with you after one date so he'll "keep being your cool friend and act like this never happened!"
SANS MY BOI don't even get me started. His guilt isn't as physically obvious but he made a promise to toriel, he promised her he would keep the human safe, and in timelines where you save everyone he follows you pretty much all throughout the Underground (even if he doesn't do anything to help smh) because he'd feel guilty not doing it, and in timelines where you kill everyone he feels guilty for not stopping you, AND in those SAME timelines he feels guilty for stopping you because it means he's breaking his promise to Toriel to keep you safe I!!! This boy can fit so much cosmic guilt in him!!!!
Asriel! FLOWEY!! Do you ever wonder if he feels guilty about being the one to wake up again? The one to survive, when Chara had to die twice?? He sits at their grave and he will do anything, anything to drown out those thoughts so he befriends and kills and torments and it's all the same and it's all useless!!
And their guilt compounds each others'! Toriel makes Sans make that promise because of her own guilt, which increases his! Asgore's guilt is what pushes Alphys so far past the limits of ethical science, because he increases hers!
And all of this, all of this, ALL OF THIS pales in comparison to you!!!
You!! The player! You return to the Underground after maybe accidentally killing Toriel or a few others because you didn't know, you never wanted to hurt them!! You listen to Flowey and you come back and you save them all!
You! The player!!! You cry at the ending and you'd feel guilty, so guilty about letting them all go, wouldn't you? So you ignore Flowey's pleas to let it alone, and you come back again, you say hello to your dear friends but this time it isn't the same, this time you kill them all because you want to see everything this game has to offer, might as well get your money's worth, the fights are cool, right?? And then you get hit with the most unsatisfying atomic bomb of an ending and the only thing left is your own reflection staring back at you from the black screen of your computer as the horror dawns, what have you done???
YOU!!! The player! You go back again even though there is no Flowey left to tell you to, and you save them all again because I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, nobody deserves what I did to all of you, and it's all good, nobody remembers, and then you get to the end. The game knows what you did!!! It never forgot, and it'll make certain you never forget either!! Guilt!! Guilt, guilt!!! It's baked into the code of this game!!
Anyways tl;dr, maybe it actually did make sense to give this game to the pope
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zalrb · 3 days
Note
for your recent ask on how to build relationships in movies where you used willabeth as an example i was just thinking of them as i read ur post lmao! what do u think are some underrated aspects of their relationship in the films ? and if you had to pick a favorite film of the potc trilogy based on just willabeth, which would you pick?
Oh, yay! A Willabeth ask!
AWE automatically wins on "At Wit's End" (aka "Will and Elizabeth's love theme") alone. That is the soundtrack to a cosmic, epic, transcendental, soul-moving, earth-shattering love story, that is the epitome of a romantic composition, it is everything. Like just listen.
But I mean, the scenes that they have in this movie?
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I'm not sure that there's anything that shippers find underrated about them, it would just be in response to Sparrabeth shippers or people who are anti-Willabeth, which I just don't find merits a response but something I do quite enjoy about the Willabeth love story is the role Jack plays in it and how his respective bonds with Will and Elizabeth actually reinforce that love story:
Like, Jack helps Will come to terms with his parentage and history
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and therefore who he is and Will, in turn, saves Jack from the gallows.
Elizabeth has faith in Jack, tells him he’s a good man, helps him see the morality of situations
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and Jack does prove her right in Dead Man’s Chest by coming back to help the crew but I think the most significant way he proves her right is by going against a desire he wanted for all of At World’s End so he can do right by Will (and it actually goes further than his desire throughout At World’s End but to a fundamental passion like he sold his soul to Davy Jones to get the Pearl, that’s how much he loves the sea)
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and then you had Jack speaking to Elizabeth’s desire for freedom
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and encourages her obtainment of that freedom, of that agency, of that power
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which ultimately leads back to her choosing to love and be with Will
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which, despite what antis say, isn't a regression. The trilogy begins with seeing her discomfort in "polite society" and feeling pressured into doing what's expected i.e. an engagement to Norrington
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which includes hiding her fascination with pirates as well as her feelings for Will
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the two things are interconnected. In fact, when we see her being chastised for not behaving the way she should, it's when she's too intimate with Will
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Her interest in pirates is signified with her keeping Will's medallion
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her choosing Will is also her choosing her own freedom
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Will even teaches her how to fight
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and throughout the trilogy, it's them discovering more facets of themselves i.e. Will reunites with his father, Elizabeth actually gets to be a pirate but what even got them on those journeys was trying to find/help the other so they can be together
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and those layers just bring them back together stronger. This has always been the point
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This also isn't exactly underrated but I find when I go into the tag, there's a lot of emphasis on what Will does for Elizabeth, how he supports her, how in love with her he is, how devoted to her he is and I completely understand why but also Elizabeth's devotion to Will deserves a spotlight as well.
Going to fight undead pirates alone to save Will
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Being both surprised and upset at Will even considering that she could be in love with Jack
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Giving away the entire plan because she couldn't feign disinterest when Sao Feng acted as though he'd stab Will
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Having to literally be carried away by Jack when Will was stabbed
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Even the smaller, in between things like Will shouting at Elizabeth to shoot at the barrels of rum but her refusing because he was still caught in the net.
I just love them so much.
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 4 hours
Text
Having them as best friend's:
Multiple X Reader
Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino
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ALASTOR
You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!
He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.
Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.
You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.
The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.
You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.
Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.
He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.
If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.
He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!
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Angel Dust
Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.
But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.
Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.
Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!
Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.
The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.
When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.
But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.
Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.
Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."
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Husk
The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.
He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.
Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.
He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.
He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.
He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."
And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.
The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.
He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.
He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.
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Charlie
Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)
She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.
You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.
You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.
Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.
Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.
If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.
She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."
A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.
She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.
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Lucifer
Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.
When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.
On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"
He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.
He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.
The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.
Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.
No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.
Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.
So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!
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Vox
You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.
Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!
Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.
You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)
No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.
If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.
You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.
If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.
"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.
Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.
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Velvette
She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.
Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.
Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.
You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."
Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.
She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.
You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!
She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.
Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.
Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.
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Rosie
Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.
Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.
In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.
She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.
She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."
At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.
She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.
She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.
Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.
She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!
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Adam
He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.
There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.
Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.
He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.
The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.
You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.
He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.
The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.
There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.
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Lute
She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.
But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?
If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.
She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."
She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.
Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.
She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.
Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.
She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.
She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)
(I've reached the 10 media limit, so just imagine a gif right here)
Valentino
He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.
Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.
You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.
It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.
Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.
He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.
He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.
You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."
He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.
He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.
A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.
Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.
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imahinatjon · 1 day
Text
Maintenance
Chuuya x Reader
Sensitive topics heavily implied!!!
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As a member of the port Mafia, you were no stranger to loosing friends, comrades, though it was usually a result of the job.
In your personal life though... yeah, it was pretty much the same situation, with a few tweaked details.
You've always had a hard time making friends, and keeping them. You always assume its your fault.
It could be a number of other things. Poor choice in friends, you not doing enough to keep the friendship going, them not doing enough to keep the friendship going, drifting apart, personalities that just don't mesh, among other things of the sort.
Even when you find all these reasons, you still arrive to the same conclusion. It's all your fault.
But, you found a solution, a way to stop your friends from leaving you.
Over the years, you found that acts of service help. Doing things for these people, agreeing with these people, letting them dump their emotional baggage on you, buying things for them (even when you weren't in a good enough financial situation for it)
Ultimately, you found, the only way you could keep your friends around was to do whatever they wanted you to.
If only you hadn't been so wrong.
When Chuuya first joined the Mafia, he didn't know you, and you didn't know him. You were just some other underling, you worked for so and so doing such and such, he'd only occasionally pass you in the hallway.
Still, he had the biggest crush on you. You were just so beautiful, to pretty, so sweet. You seemed out of place in the Mafia headquarters.
The more he thought about you, the more you started appearing. Like that strange phenomenon when you first notice someone, and then suddenly you see them everywhere.
He wasn't complaining.
He saw how you were with some of your comrades, woman and men, you were always running around, doing things for them, following them wherever they wanted you to go. He didn't think much of it until he got brave enough to approach you and the group of 'friends' you had made a few years later.
"Ah, damn, I don't have enough for lunch! And I was really craving a pizza today too!" One of the woman whined, that's when you perked up, meekly raising your hand, as though you needed permission to speak, their attention went to you.
"I-i could always go and get you something if you like? I have enough on me"
That was nice of you.
"Really?! That would be great! Seriously, your such a life saver YN" she accepted your offer and praised you. And you ate it up with a bright smile and ran off to god knows where.
Once you were out of earshot, he heard the woman snicker
"See, if you want her to do anything, just make her feel bad for you! Pretend your injured, or sick, or that you have no money! Hell, she'll do anything if you so much as say you've had a bad day"
Chuuya froze. What? It was like some teen drama show - the overly kind, energetic friendly girl being taken advantage of by the meaner more callous popular one (Not that she was popular, Chuuya didn't even know her name, nor did he want to)
Well, if that's what it was gonna be like- he'd just become your Knight in shining armor!
If only it was that easy.
You'd come back rather quickly, almost like you'd ran, and handed the food over, the group thanking you, patting your head like dog before they up and left you standing there. You didn't have anything. Left on your own to go hungry for the day because you spent what you had on someone else.
So chuuya introduced himself. And he took you out to lunch.
It was the start of what should have been a beautiful friendship. But you were incredibly dense, and you treated chuuya the same way you treated everyone else, albeit with more effort because he never asked for anything.
And that made you nervous. You didn't know what you could do for him. So you did everything, to the point that everyone knew, and you eventually got assigned to become his 'secretary' of sorts. His personal lackey. Why bother giving anyone else the position when you were there doing it all anyway?
And Chuuya HATED this arrangement. But he couldn't say anything, not when you looked so happy to be working with him.
It takes a few more years before he's ready to tell you that he has feelings for you. He doesn't know what's been stopping him. Perhaps he was worried you didn't feel the same. He wouldn't put it past you to agree to date someone just because they asked, because you felt like you had to.
But then - then you got a boyfriend. Some guy he didn't know, and didn't really want to know.
You'd talk Chuuya's ear off about this man all day long, not singing his praise, but... complaining? It was refreshing, to see you not speaking so highly of someone, but it was also concerning as to the state of your relationship.
Your boyfriend disregarded your feelings, ignored what you said. But you'd tell Chuuya it was okay, because sometimes he just 'forgot'. He never spent much money on you either, which was fine, you didn't expect it. But chuuya distinctly remembers one day in the office watching you pace back and forth because you didn't have enough money for your boyfriends birthday gift - he'd been asking for it for months now, and you couldn't afford it.
Of course chuuya gave you the money for it. And of course you paid him back when he asked you not too.
After a few months Chuuya told you that you had to break up with him, for your own good. But you refused.
"You have no right to tell me that"
He didn't see you much after that. It broke his heart.
But not as much as it did weeks later when you came crying to him in his office. It was about your boyfriend - ex boyfriend now.
Chuuya once spoke about the future with you, where you saw yourself- married? Kids? You said you never wanted kids.
But now you come to him, a small white stick in your hand and tears running down your face. He sits you down and asked what happend.
"H-he didn't want to use... he didn't want to use protection. I asked him too, but he said it felt better without it. He said he'd leave me. So I - I let him..." Chuuya understood what you were saying, and it made his blood boil, he was ready to comitt murder in your name. But then you said something else that worried him.
"Then I..." You couldn't finish the sentence as you handed him the stick you came in with. Chuuya wasn't stupid. He knew what this was. It was the last thing you wanted.
"What are you going to do?" He finally asked.
You didn't answer him, instead leaning and resting your head on his shoulder.
You were tired. So he would let you sleep.
You left after a few hours, and came back a week later. A happy go lucky smile on your face as you ran around doing all the tasks you needed to do plus a few extras on the side. You weren't all there of course, smile faltering ever so slightly when you thought no one was looking. When no one would notice.
But Chuuya noticed. Of course he did. He was always looking. He always has been.
He let's you settle back into life, before he even considers thinking about you romantically again. He's cautious, he doesn't want to hurt you.
But eventually it gets too much. Your acts of service, you keep buying him things. It's too much! He should be the one doing that for you. And he tells you as much.
"But why? That's not... you job?" You asked him.
"It's not yours either"
You think you understand, and you panic - have you been doing too much all this time? You thought that was how friendships were supposed to work.
"You don't... you don't need to keep doing things for me. I want to be the one doing things for you!" He exclaimed, infront of many onlookers. "I want to be the one spoiling you, buying you presents, taking you out to eat, be someone you can lean on, talk to, tell all your problems" he continued further.
"I want to hold your hand. I want to see your face every day, I want to be close to you, and I want you to stop thinking you have to do things for me because you don't have to do anything other than be yourself"
"I didn't fall in love with what you could do for me, I didn't fall in love with the material items you brought me, I just fell in love with you, everything else be damned"
"You...fell in love with me?"
"Of course I did. How could I not"
"Well... i could think of one or two reasons" you tried to joke
"Just shut up. You have no idea how much it hurt, how much I hated myself for not being able to stop others from using you, how much it felt like I was also using you. And I don't want to use you, I just want to be with you... that's all"
"I..." You couldn't hide the shy grin coming to your face. It was out of character for Chuuya, especially infront of so many people to say such things, it was also cheesy. But... it meant to world to you. Chuuya loved you. And a part of you, the part of you you had been trying for so long to push down loved him too.
"You said you love me..." You whispered "you really said you love me!" You said a little louder
"I mean... well... yea, I guess I did"
You couldn't stop yourself from rushing forward to hug him, hiding your face in his shoulder
"You have... no idea how happy that makes me"
"I'd like to tell you how much i love you every day... if you'll let me?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ehhhh, the endings not really doing it for me I'm afraid. I wanted so badly to write a bad ending, but that wouldn't have been very comforting.
Not that Chuuya did a whole lot of comforting until the end... sorta.
Masterlist :3
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projectbluearcadia · 3 days
Text
Top Ten Anime Betrayals I Guess
Lucifer: Mmm... Where are you going?
Annelie flinches as Lucifer rolls over in bed to catch her with half her body out of bed.
Annelie: ...water?
Lucifer: You're not a good liar, Annelie. Why are you being so sneaky?
Annelie: Well... it's just, I think you'll follow me if you know where I'm going, so...
Lucifer: Is there a reason I can't follow you?
Lucifer is wide-awake now, sitting up and rubbing his face.
Annelie: Because Barbatos said---
Lucifer: Barbatos?
Lucifer swings his legs out of bed to sit next to Annelie.
Lucifer: Why would he tell you to go anywhere without me? Annelie, that's not a good sign. He knows you get anxious when I'm not somewhere I can readily get to you.
Annelie: ...you're right, but... I don't know, I just thought he had a good reason. Like maybe he'd say something private about you or he'd confide in me about Diavolo...
Lucifer: Look. I know you're not on his hitlist anymore, but that doesn't mean you can let your guard down. He's a man, Annelie, and he's a very closed-off man at that. I don't care whether he wants to hit on you or tell you his darkest secret. You're not going by yourself. End of discussion.
If you were anyone else...
Annelie lets out a defeated sigh, smiling a little to herself.
Annelie: Okay, fine. But you stay concealed and quiet. Only pop your head out if I call for you.
Lucifer: Fine. I don't like it, but fine.
[ timeskip ]
Annelie walks into the darkened halls of the castle with ease, searching for Barbatos. She passes Diavolo's room, and she chuckles a little as she sees the prince sleeping soundly. Eventually, she catches the sight of Barbatos carrying a lit candelabra, making his face look gaunt.
Barbatos: There you are.
Barbatos smiles softly.
Barbatos: Follow me; I'd prefer to speak over tea.
Annelie: Yeah, sure...
Annelie starts walking behind the butler.
Annelie: Can you give me a hint about what you want to talk about with me exactly? You have to know that you're making me pretty anxious right now. You don't have a very good track record.
Barbatos: Haha. No, I don't.
Annelie: ...
Barbatos: ...
Annelie: ........
Barbatos: ...........
Annelie: Barb? Isn't this your room? You're really scaring me now.
Barbatos: I apologize for my reticence. I did not desire to make you anxious, although what I have to tell you may be anxiety-inducing.
Barbatos pours a cup of tea for Annelie and himself, and the sweet aroma of chamomile reaches Annelie's nose. He gestures for her to sit, taking a sip of tea.
Annelie: ...okay...?
Barbatos: It has become clear to me that you are widely loved by everyone in your circle. Unfortunately, that love is of the romantic variety which cannot be satiated when you have become so tightly bonded to Lucifer.
Annelie: Is... Is this a lecture?
Barbatos: No, not at all. It's... more of a personal musing, I'm afraid. Rather, it is a lament on my part. I have come to realize that I am just as fond of you as the young master or the other members of the student council.
Annelie: I guess... yeah, that's pretty surprising.
Annelie takes a sip of her tea.
Annelie: But... why did you need to call me all the way to the castle for that?
Hm? Do I... hear Lucifer shouting?
Barbatos: That has to do with the other thing I needed to inform you of.
Although there was no change in Barbatos' expression, a tear slipped free of one eye.
Huh? Why does he... look... blurry...?
Barbatos: Annelie, your curse has spread and permanently taken root. Solomon's vaccine is effective only at treating surface-level symptoms. Of the sparing records I was able to find on Queen Succubi... we are in a critical state.
Annelie collapses to the floor, and Barbatos catches her, laying her down gently.
Barbatos: ...so... for the sake of the prince's life, I can't let you live.
I am sorry, Annelie.... truly.
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