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number-onekidqueen · 3 months

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𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Part One Part Two.

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ��goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

How he wished you had been sober.

#percy jackson #percy jackson tv show #luke castellan #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo tv show #pjo show luke #pjo tv series #pjo series #percy jackson tv series #pjo luke #more angst <3 #hope you enjoy this #requests open #wish you were sober #conan gray song #song fic

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whoistartaglia · 3 months

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doing your boyfriend’s makeup

scaramouche/wanderer x reader

cw: very mildly suggestive at the end

“stop squirming.”

“i’m not—“

“stop talking!” you admonish, your shaky hand narrowly missing scaramouche’s eyelashes. he glares up at you through those very thick and unfairly long eyelashes. even without the mascara, scaramouche has the most gorgeous eyelashes you’ve ever seen. it’s unfair, really. you’re convinced that you could put on the entire tube’s contents of mascara on your own lashes and they would still have half as long as his.

with a huff and a pout, scaramouche closes his eyes once more. you continue to reapply the mascara in long, even strokes, hesitating ever so slightly when his flutter in a way that suggests scaramouche is seconds away from sleep—and that he might very well be. the tension of you nested on his lap and touching his face with gentle, wispy touches faded away to reveal the peace and tranquillity of the scene. it’s late into the evening hours, but the atmosphere suggests a gentle breeze, a warm summer afternoon, a harp playing somewhere in the background.

scaramouche is transported back to the bedroom, the fairy lights, and shuffled playlist playing from your small speaker, when you pause and he takes it upon him to open his eyes. you don’t reprimand him this time, instead taking a moment to study his face: the curve of his lips, the angle of his cheekbones, those eyelashes and dangerously gorgeous violet eyes underneath them.

“you’re so beautiful,” you whisper as scaramouche’s eyes flicker up to yours. “even without the makeup.”

scaramouche tilts his head as he studies your face in return. “i should be telling you that.”

there’s a smoke, a fog, a haze in the room with how you’re both lost in each other’s eyes.

“you do, though. every day.” you look down at the tube of mascara in your hands and set in on the vanity behind scaramouche. you look at yourself in the mirror before glancing at scaramouche’s reflection—even the back of his head, with it’s choppy haircut you requested a handful of times for him to let you straighten out, is beautiful.

“…do you really think so?”

you look back at scaramouche, surprised at the question. “of course i do.” you repeat yourself again for good measure. “you’re beautiful—even more than that.“

scaramouche is quiet for a second, contemplative, before a quiet, “thank you, [name].”

you know he’s thanking you for more than the compliment, more than the impromptu makeup session tonight, more than he might know himself.

“you’re welcome,” you return, meeting him in his cloudy, storm-filled eyes. your glance to your makeup bag and an idea like a bolt of lightning strikes you. “now, then. i just have one more thing. close your eyes again for me, okay?”

scaramouche does as he is told, fluttering his eyelids shut as you reach into your bag and pull out a bright red lipstick.

“you just need a little bit of chapstick.” you gently brush the “chapstick” on his pouted lips, even as he asks a, “and why did i need to close my eyes for this?” as you put it on.

you ignore the question and pose one of your own. “it’s all done! do you want to see what a lovely masterpiece your face has become?”

“do i want really to?” scaramouche asks, eyeing the open bottle of mascara and several q-tips and tissues you had to use for around the eye clean up.

“i’m going to say probably not, but you don’t have a choice.” you reach over and pickup a handheld mirror which you present infront of scaramouche. he studies his face, the long thick black eyelashes, the smuged eyeliner to bring out the lighter tones of lavender in his eyes, his lips colored—

“red.” scaramouche turns around to the vanity mirror, as if to double check that the firery red pigment on his lips is truly real. he meets your gaze in the mirror. “i didn’t know chapstick was red.”

“yeah, well… chapstick, lipstick, it’s all basically the same at the end of the day.” scaramouche sets the handheld mirror down and turns back to you, noting your oh-so innocent smile as you try to contain a laugh.

“you think you’re so funny,” scaramouche says, a new wicked gleam in his eyes.

“i’m familar with this shade because it’s always covering my lips, cheeks, and neck whenever you kiss me,” he whispers. you gulp nervously at his lascivious tone, and scaramouche is the one to smile. “consider this as payback.”

scaramouche leans in closer, and you don’t protest when his lips meet yours, staining them the same fiery red that you’re sure you’re going to be covered with by the time the sun is up tomorrow.

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st4rg1rl-16 · 2 months

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━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ━ in a club max, lando and carlos make a plan to discover if the ferrari drivers are in a relationship, how? making charles jealous!

𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 ━ 2019, 24 march

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ━ barcelona, spain

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ━ they are in a club so alcohol consumption jealous!charles, the boys being the little shits they are, fingering (wait what?!) lewis kinda flirting with bella?

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ I been MIA I know, sorry for that but here it is!!and things are starting to get heatedddd

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @louvrepool @d3kstar @omgsuperstarg @whoselly @yl90 @wcnorris

• — need for speed’s masterlist

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻

♡ liked by 𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵, 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 and 𝟴𝟲.𝟬𝟲𝟴 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 After revolutionizing not only the motorsport world but also our hearts, Arabella Torres is crowned with the title of the new "it girl" of Europe.

"I've spent this last month hating my body and I'm tired of pretending that everything is fine" The Formula One driver opens up to us showing us her most vulnerable side about hate on social media and several other topics in the interview for the 200th issue of our magazine, now available on 💥 our link💥

Text: 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝘆𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗿

Interview: 𝘁𝗼𝗺_𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘁_𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

Photograph: 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸_𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗴𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱_𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗼

Styling: 𝗺𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗷𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘄𝗼𝗱𝘂

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 have been tagged

𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 🏎️🏎️🏎️

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 😍

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭 Wait, I’m running to get it

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟮 I wasn’t a big fan of her but since I saw the live I love her

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 the same happened to me

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟰 Sorry for my ignorance, but what happened? I just got into the fandom.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 Last month she was sexualized a lot on twitter because some youtubers uploaded a video and mentioned sexual things about her body, she went viral and began to have even more hate than she already had and made a live saying that she was going to leave social media for a while and then talked about how bad she felt, how it was a shame for her family and how it was “staining” her career. She basically talked about how bad it is to sexualize and also took out things like sexism and things like that (+)

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟯 (+) Then she left social media and we only saw her in the Shanghai and Azerbaijan gps and during these four weeks a lot of celebrities have talked about her and she has gone viral and now she is like the “it girl”.

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟱 ooooh, thanks for the explanation 💖

𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗿𝗶 That’s our girl!! 😌

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 muchas gracias por darme esta oportunidad! 🤍thank you very much for giving me this opportunity!

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟲 aww she is so cute, why do people hate her?

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟳 Unfortunately there are many people throwing hate at her even though she is a great person

⤷ 𝗴𝗾𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 Te queremos, Arabella! 🥰 We love you!

𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼 ARABELLA TOOOOOOOORRESSSSSSSSS

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 and 𝟭𝟮𝟳 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 liked this comment

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟴 my ship 🥺

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟵 What they've done to her is horrible, now she hates her body when she's beautiful

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟬 I would kill for having a body like hers

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟭 that’s how society works 🙂

⤷ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝟭𝟮 she is probably going to get even more hate after this

"IT would be awesome if your first victory was in Spain" Oliver's smile was focused by the camera. His mother snapped her tongue looking at him with reprimand.

"Oli, son, don't swear on the table, please" The boy looked at his mother and gave her his most charming smile.

"Yes, mommy" The woman rolled her eyes and threw her napkin in his face so he complained while her husband laughed.

Arabella smiled watching the familiar scene unfolding in front of her. The truth was that she had missed it, after so many months away from them and seeing each other only by casual video calls, it was nice to be all together even if the whole family was not yet there because her parents had traveled to Barcelona, where her next race was going to be, with her brother the previous week to celebrate the birthday of the youngest of the Torres family and now a week later her grandparents, her uncles, aunts and her cousins were still to arrive so that everyone could attend the race on Sunday because they wanted to support Arabella in their native country. But this was nice, she had missed hearing her brother's nonsense, her mother acting like a mother and talking about cars with her father. She missed a normal life that she had never had.

"By the way" Her father caught her attention, turned her gaze to him drinking from her glass full of sangria. She saw out of the corner of her eye how she pointed to the team of Netflix’s cameras that surrounded them in the garden of the house they had rented during their stay in Barcelona “Do we have to speak in English or...?”.

Marisa, her mother, let out an disgusted moan “Oh, with how much I struggle with English”.

The green-eyed boy laughed as he nibbled at the chicken wing that his fingers were holding “I still don't understand how you don't know English, mom. Your children are literally international athletes, you should know English”.

"I know English" The eyes of the same color as that of her two children opened in the direction of the teenager before she began to speak in English with a very strong Spanish accent "How are you? I'm fine, thank you!” She smiled with self-centeredness, pointed to herself “See? what your mother doesn't know how to do...”

“Jeez" The girl murmured, sticking her lips to the glass again while her brother burst into laughter, almost chocking with the wing.

The one wearing the glasses looked at his wife with a small smile, obviously trying to hid the laughter that was about to come out, and winked at her “Of course, honey! you are good at everything”.

Her brother's smile increased when their mother smiled sending a kiss to their father, clearly not grasping the intention of his words. Arabella shook her head but still a smile had made room in her full lips, she left the glass on the table and lay down on her chair after making a sandwich with the chorizos that her father had cooked on the barbecue.

"It's for the Netflix’s Formula One docuseries" She spoke with her mouth full, making her mother look at her badly but she didn't see her because she was looking at her father. She shrugged her shoulders turning her gaze to the sandwich before giving it another bite “They wanted to see what my private life is like and we speaks in Spanish so no. Speak in Spanish, period”.

"But your private life so fucking boring" She looked at her brother badly while her teeth crushed the food in her mouth, he stuck out his tongue at her.

"Oh, really? Okay, okay, I don't invite you to the party tonight then” She smiled evilly at what the moto driver let out a gasp bringing his hand to his chest.

"So rude, sister" He shook his head "So rude”.

A pleasant silence covered the table after her brother's words. Manuel, her father, shared smiles with his wife while they watched their children eat. They had also missed the family moments and were grateful to be together, especially after what their daughter had gone through thanks to the internet.

"Then will you go out tonight?" The man cleared his throat, turning his gaze to his firstborn, who nodded.

"It's been the boys' idea" She rolled her eyes “They've just arrived and they already want to party”.

"Don't you have the classification tomorrow?" She nodded to her brother's question and grimaced when she felt their mother's gaze on her.

"Arabella Torres González, don't even think about drinking tonight." She raised her finger and pointed at her accusively. The girl nodded while father and son looked at each other knowing that she was indeed going to drink. The blonde turned her gaze to her plate when she began to cut a piece of bacon “If you drink, don't drive”.

"I wasn't going to go drunk to practice, but well" She murmured, giving the last bite to the bread. She wiped his lips with the napkin that was next to her plate.

The only brown eyed let out a breath of air when the cold Coca Cola passed through his throat and smiled “Well, I think it's great that you go out, honey. Especially after everything that has happened”.

She nodded, offering a smile to her father before looking down at her plate, a common reaction she had to the mention of the twitter situation.

"Do you think you're going to win?" She heard her brother ask and although she thanked him mentally because she knew that he had changed the subject to entertain her, she couldn't help to, without knowing why, tense.

Being honest, she knew why: everyone's eyes would be on her, not only because it was going to be the first time she was going to race in her country since she in formula one, but because of the same issue she was trying to avoid. She had disappeared since what happened, the only time the media could see her was in the Azerbaijan race and they didn't even see her too much because she refrained from doing interviews or any kind of media in addition to the fact that she had moved away from social media even closing her twitter account temporarily after announcing on Instagram live that she was tired of the comments towards her body.

She had managed to hide well from the paparazzi and that had made people talk about, the whole gossip magazines was talking about her and not only them because even in the sports they had mentioned her situation which had caught the attention of many celebrities, especially women, who defended her from the internet trolls and praised her for continuing with her sportiness above all. Her popularity had risen like foam and the contracts and offers of all kinds of brands had not taken long to reach her manager's email. The first offer they had accepted had been to be the cover of the May issue of GQ Magazine where she had taken the opportunity to talk about how the online comments about her body had affected her, which was something quite healing for her, being able to talk loudly about it because she had been keeping it to herself.

Before she didn’t give too much importance to her body, focused since she was a child on cars and nothing else had not gone through that stage in which insecurities about her physique tormented her but that controversy had provoked it. She had suffered a mini crisis in which she was never very hungry, she spent hours looking at her reflection in the mirror thinking that it was what was wrong with her, her wardrobe had changed to a more comfortable and wide one that did not reveal more than the minimum of skin and the salt of her tears was the only thing that fed her.

She wasn't proud of herself, far from it, but what could you wait for? She was just an eighteen-year-old girl receiving hatred everywhere, although none of those people had a face to look at when she read those insults Arabella could not prevent them from affecting her. And although she was much better now, after talking to Sebastian –who was on a plane on his way to Spain, because unfortunately he hadn’t been able to attend Azerbaijan– as if he were her personal psychologist and spending time with her family, she could not help but tense every time something reminded her of the small trauma she had experienced.

She closed her eyes inhaling and exhaling "I have a good feeling but I don't want to jinx it”.

Her mother's hand curled up on hers, looked up to see her and immediately felt a warmth and security invade her body causing her to relax her tense shoulders. Marisa González smiled sweetly at her daughter "No matter what happens, we will be proud of you, cariño. Okay?”.

She bit her lower lip feeling her eyes begin to sting, she nodded "Okay" Her voice came out more raspy than usual, causing the woman to get up from her seat and approach her daughter to hug her.

"THIS is so awkward" A somewhat drunk Lando looked worriedly at his teammate while he rolled his eyes denying. He pushed his arm when he saw him “Carlos! What do we do? I can't keep this secret that is eating me alive”.

"It's not a secret because we don't know if it's true" He leaned over to take his glass from the small table in front of the sofa on which they were both sitting and drank from it.

He was going to need alcohol to survive the night.

He opened his eyes in an exaggerated and paranoid way “What do you mean, Carlos? Look at them, they look like cats in heat!” He extended both arms towards the dance floor where they could see Arabella dancing with Daniel and Pierre while Charles was next to George at the bar, neither of the two pending the presence of the other to the very opposite of what number 4 had said.

A "Mmh" sounded on the other side and they both quickly turned their heads to see the Dutchman sitting on the other sofa. The McLaren's idiots opened their eyes with surprise when they remembered that the Red Bull driver was with them.

"So, do you think Arabella and Charles are together?" He raised one of his eyebrows, curious because he swore to have seen things among the members of the red team but he had not yet mentioned his suspicions to anyone.

"Don't tell anyone, but yes”.

"It's not that we believe it, it's that we know it" The British raised his index finger to emphasize his words.

"Oh, really? How?” Max moved in his seat, approaching them to try to get information from them because he had decided not to drink that night so he was bored as he watched his friends and co-workers approach the ethyl coma.

The curly-haired one approached him too, looking over his shoulder to prevent unwanted ears from hearing their conversation “Have you seen how they look at each other? Or at least how Charles looks at her? She is more discreet but he is not and clearly that look is not from friends”.

"Mmm" The 33 rubbed his chin before a mischievous smile crept into his lips "Maybe we can make them confess”.

"Ohhhhh" Lando laughed while Carlos pursed his lips.

"I don't know, guys" He denied taking another sip from his glass "We shouldn't get in, I also think they're angry at each other”.

"Yes” Verstappen’s blue eyes moved to the spaniard "I've noticed it too, they're acting weird. They don't talk much”.

Norris let out a moan of protest while patting his thigh “Now that we have something to entertain ourselves, they go and break up”.

"Shut up, shut up!" The eldest of the three exclaimed between his teeth when he saw Pierre and Arabella approaching the VIP zone, the reflections of the lights colliding against the brightness of the girl's skirt almost blinded him "They're coming, they're coming”.

Pierre let go of the girl's hand and dropped with a sigh on the sofa next to Max, who looked at him raising both eyebrows making the Frenchman smile at him unwillingly “God, i’m dead”.

"But we barely have danced, P” The girl who was still standing laughed, Carlos moved making room for her but she denied leaning a hand on his shoulder. She made puppy eyes “Carlitos, you coming to dance with me”.

He shook his head without looking at her because he knew he was going to give in if he kept looking at her “No, no, I'm okay here”.

"Oh, come on!" She complained before taking his hand and began to pull him but it was of little use. Releasing a blow, she sat next to him and took the cup, earning a complaint from him “You are the only one with whom I can sing the songs, this useless frenchie doesn’t know the lyrics”.

"Sorry for not knowing Spanish!" The other exclaimed as he raised both arms "I already know English and Italian and that is more than enough”.

"Hey, what about Daniel?" The Dutchman frowned when he realized that his former teammate was not in the group.

"He found a girl" The girl shrugged her shoulders accepting the glass of the other spaniard when he took a sip and then hand in it to her again.

Immediately everyone let out complaints in unison and she laughed because she knew why. They had decided to ignore the hotels and rent a house all together to be able to stay a couple more days in the country and, well, they were going to have to listen to the australian and his fling all night.

"Can I sleep with you today?" Carlos looked at her horrified because he was the one who had his room next to Ricciardo's, she denied what he opened his mouth in pain "Why not?"

"Because you don't want to dance with me" She was busy arguing with him so she didn't notice when Max collided his knee with Lando's to get his attention, once the boy looked at him he nodded to the girl opening his eyes.

"What?" He asked in a confused whisper to what Max rolled his eyes and Pierre approached them, curious about what was happening.

"Go dance with her so we can make Charles jealous”.

"Why is Charles going to get jealous because Bella dances with Lando?" Pierre looked at them strangely, he was not surprised about a jealous Charles because, obviously, he had also realized the feelings of his friends, what he didn’t understand was why was he going to feel jealous of the little boy of the McLaren team.

A demonic smile was planted on the full lips of the much acclaimed lion “You'll see”.

With his gaze he pointed to the duo that was approaching them and Gasly nodded impatiently to see how the Dutchman's plan unfolded.

"Bells" The voice of the curly haired one came out high and both the 10 and the 33 had to put their hands to their mouths to avoid laughing. The girl looked at him expectantly but smiling, he swallowed saliva feeling nervous suddenly “I can dance with you, if you want”.

She nodded before getting up and extending her hand towards him, who didn't take long to take her between his much larger one and let himself be guided by her to the dance floor. Along the way they met Charles and George, his blueish green eyes collided with the greens of the Monegasque who clearly did not look very happy at the image in front of him. He swallowed again, praying mentally that the elder would not end up beating him up. The girl in front of him kept pulling him, completely ignoring her teammate but not without giving a smile to her other British friend who responded by raising both thumbs.

Fuck he thought when the reggaeton song of which he didn't know how to pronounce its name changed to Reminder by The Weeknd. A wave of screams filled his ears when the first chords filled the nightclub, he watched as the sweaty bodies stuck even more when he heard the song and suddenly he felt that the shirt that decorated his torso was too small for him. He hooked his index finger on the neck to relieve the sensation a little but it didn't work too much.

His eyes went down to the girl in front of him, despite wearing heels she was still shorter than him so he could see the club above her head. He bit the inside of his cheek when they finally found a clear space on the track and turned around to look at him.

She analyzed him from top to bottom before showing him a nice smile "If you want we can go back, Lan. It's okay”.

He immediately denied “No, no, it's fine. Let's dance, that's what we've come for, right?”.

"Okay, but if you feel uncomfortable, tell me" She stood on her tippy toes to reach his ear because Abel Tesfaye's voice was too loud. The boy closed his eyes when he smelled her perfume “Okay?”.

She separated from him, enough so that they could look at each other's face but not so that their bodies would stop being against each other. He nodded speechlessly looking into her eyes and she smiled funny before taking her hands and placing them on her hips to which the boy opened his eyes wide making her throw her head after laughing.

"They are just hips, Lando!"

"Yeah, i know, but... don't blame me" He laughed too.

On the other side of the nightclub, their friends watched them as if they were the best show in the world while Charles felt that he was going about to throw up. He squeezed his grip on the glass that was in his hands without looking away from the young drivers, who now danced very close to each other. It should be him who was there moving his body next to hers, it should be him who had his hands on her hips, it should be him who had his arms around her neck. It should be him and not Lando.

"They would make a good couple" He heard Sainz speak, who was looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I thought that if she would date with one of us it would be Max" All the eyes, including Charles's, went to George, who had not realized that he had become the center of attention because he was very distracted on his mission to catch with his straw a gummie that was at the bottom of his glass.

The named one frowned “With me?”.

Pierre moved in his seat offended "Yes, what do you mean with Max?" Why not with me?”.

The Spaniard laughed scratching his leg over the fabric of his jeans “Don't you have a girlfriend?”.

"Shut up, Carlos. This is important” The Frenchman raised his hand trying to block the Spanish's face.

Russell's bulging eyes rose to look at his colleagues “I mean... I don't know, between Max and Bella there is like this strange tension but at the same time they get along well. I guess it will be because they are both so focused about beating Hamilton but I thought they would end up together”.

The green eyes of the number 16 traveled to his childhood rival, his desire to throw up became even stronger when he saw that he was struggling not to let out a smile. He knew that he had liked the British's words and although he couldn’t blame him because, to be honest, they were all young men and she was practically a goddess so he was not too surprised that he was not the only one interested in her.

"Mmmh" Pierre's lips furrowed in agreement. "Yeah, they wouldn't look bad together. It would be kind of enemies on the track to lovers off the track, it would make sense”.

Russell pointed it at him “Right?”.

"But she and Lando have already kissed" After Verstappen's words, everyone looked at him strangely.

Carlos let out a high-pitched squeal “It was you who interrupted them!”.

"Yes" He laughed nodding as he drank from his glass, he moved his gaze towards the boy sitting next to him.

"Well, Landito has a lot of advantage then" Carlos' honey eyes returned to the dance floor causing the others to imitate him. The youngest pair of the group were dancing as close as they could to each other, they were sure that not even a pen could fit between them, Arabella was with her back to him with her arms hanging from his neck while Lando hid her face in her neck and his hands kept a firm grip on the girl's waist.

"Do you think they will fuck tonight?" The dirty blond with a beard smiled like a kid, entertained by the reaction of his best friend but also happy that his friends got some kind of action.

"Looks like it”.

Before Max's words, he squeezed the glass so much that it exploded, attracting the attention of others and even of some people around them. He felt the cold liquid from his cup pierce the fabric of his pants when he released the last piece of glass that he was still holding in his hands. He waved his hand to get rid of the liquid and let Carlos take it to inspect that no crystal had been stuck in his skin.

"Fuck, Leclerc" The one with the raspy voice handed him napkins from the napkin holder that was on the low table in the center of the sofas.

He looked back at the dance floor ignoring how Carlos called a waitress or how Pierre and Max tried to clean the mess by throwing an unnecessary amount of napkins on the floor. Suddenly he was relieved when he saw the dark-haired British boy walking towards the table, with no trace of the brunette next to him.

"What happened?" Lando's disheveled eyebrows came together when he saw his friends trying to clean the floor and Charles soaked from top to bottom.

The monegasque had to look away from the boy when he noticed a mark of lipstick of the same color as the one Arabella wore on his cheek. He got up abruptly releasing a quick "I'm going to the bathroom" before leaving.

He walked through the club as if the devil himself was behind him, he ignored the screams of the people when the song changed and also the looks of the Spanish girls on him in addition to their whispers. Once he reached the hallway where the bathroom was, he let out a sigh, his knuckles had turned white from how hard he was squeezing his fists. He leaned against the wall taking advantage of the fact that the hallway was empty and sighed, bringing a hand to his hair.

Damn the day he met Arabella Torres. Since that day, everything that could have gone wrong was going wrong. He didn't blame her but the damn fate for playing with him that way.

He leaned his head on the wall, looking at the ceiling and thought that it wasn’t as he had expected the night to be. He had gone to the party hoping to be able to talk to her and fix their problems but no, she hadn’t even give a single look to him and that drove him crazy because since their fight and having left him lying in her driver’s room they hadn’t spoken, except for some video that the Ferrari stuff had forced them to record for the YouTube channel and little else. They hadn't even seen each other since the last race, they were supposed to have flown together from Azerbaijan to Barcelona but Arabella had run away to Madrid to celebrate her brother's birthday with her family so it had been almost two weeks since they had last seen each other.

For a moment he wondered what his life would have been like if maybe they were in different teams or if they were normal people and met at a party like this or maybe at college. Everything would have been very different and much easier.

He moved his head following the rhythm of the song without knowing that the lyrics said because it was in spanish and sighed when he heard the door of one of the bathrooms open, he looked down even without separating his head from the wall.

Oh, what a coincidence.

"What happened to your pants?" Arabella was in front of him, looking with a frown at the dark spot that covered much of the fabric that covered his leg.

"My glass exploded" He replied in a hoarse voice because he had not said a word almost all night. He observed her through his long eyelashes, trying to memorize the image in front of him before she ignored him again.

"Ah, good luck cleaning that then" She squeezed her lips and began to turn, ready to get out of there, to run away from him again but he prevented her by grabbing her wrist. She froze in his place, she had missed his touch, she let out a sigh trying to stay calm “Charles, let me go”.

"Why?" A cynical smile stood on his lips "Are you in a hurry to go back to Lando?".

He saw how she tilted her head to the side before she let go of his grip and turned around, he saw how she looked at him confused.

“What does Lando have to do with this?”.

"I've seen how he was kissing your neck and how you danced very close. Too close to be just friends" Everything around Charles was red, as red as the cars they drove or the uniforms they wore on weekends. He was jealous and drunk and didn't think too clearly because they both knew that he wasn't like that. Arabella looked at him strangely, she never seen him that way “What, have you already found my replacement?”.

"What the fuck?" She murmured in spanish. The girl was surprised and as incredible as it may seem, turned on.

"Maybe you can go to McLaren" He bowed his head as his gaze went from her eyes to his lips "But you know that orange will never look as good as red on you”.

She immediately realized that it was a metaphor and wanted to laugh but was too confused to do so. The alcohol in her system next to Charles' perfume wasn't really helpful. She knew that he was playing a game and that if she followed it she could get burned but everyone knew that Arabella Torres was reckless and that she liked danger.

Her confused expression changed, Charles couldn’t describe it but when she began to shorten the distance between them he began to walk backwards, unconsciously entering the women's bathroom, which was empty thank God. He felt his mouth dry when he saw that the girl's hand went to her chest where she began to play with the buttons of the shirt she was wearing “I'm not sure if the red fits me so well” Slow but very slowly she unbuttoned the first buttons revealing a red lace bra. She gathered his eyebrows looking at him with feigned curiosity and in an innocent tone asked him "What do you think?"

He blinked a couple of times before looking up at her. He cursed in French before shortening the distance and smashing his lips against hers. He passed his hand through his neck entangled his fingers between the soft waves of brown hair, closed his fist and pulled her hair forcing her to walk towards the sink. Her ass hit the edge of the marble board making her moan in his mouth because his free hand was squeezing her butt making the Prada's skirt rise and she could feel the cold marble against her skin. The moan in his mouth made him smile, his hands moving from top to bottom through her body caressing her barely covered skin thanks to the open shirt and the short skirt.

Her hands traveled to the boy's neck, one of them taking over the small strands that were born on the back of his neck causing Charles to open his lips but not move them, he stayed in his place watching as she twisted under his touch, the smug smile he had on his lips made her know that he was enjoying it. The tips of his bangs stuck to her skin thanks to the thin space between their foreheads tickling her, which was making her nervous.

Arabella let out a small moan when she felt his right hand go up from her ass to her naked thigh and go through the bottom of her skirt to her underwear. He kissed her again as he pressed with his finger –she wouldn’t know which one– against the fine red lace garment that separated her skin from the contact of his hand.

For a second she thought that she had reached glory when she felt how he was pressing even harder but she fell from the cloud when he separated. She looked at him frowning at what he gave her a smile of apology before asking her with his eyes if she was okay and comfortable with that.

At another time maybe she would have thought it was cute but she was drunk and horny so she could only roll her eyes and take his hand with hers to place it back on her panties “For God's sake, Charles. Just do it”.

This time it was she who joined their lips, ran her fingers through his hair and pressed herself as hard as she could against him while their tongues fought each other. She let herself be embraced by his pleasant smell and the thousand sensations she felt when he was like this with her.

She released her grip on his hair and took her hands along a path from his neck to his chest where she took the shirt in her fists and, in one movement, pulled it breaking the buttons making them fly. He walked away from her when he heard the buttons touch the ground, he looked at them without expression before turning his gaze towards her, raising an eyebrow looking at her between his eyelashes. She bit her lip because, let's be honest, he looked too good looking at her like that from that angle.

"I'll buy you a new one" She went to tell him, but before she opened her mouth, he screwed his hands on the back of her thighs, causing her to let out a small choked scream in surprise when she didn't feel the ground under her feet.

She hissed when the cold of the marble hit the skin of her thighs although she was silent when she felt Charles' hands raise her skirt more to have better access between her legs. The monegasque released the garment when he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her without raising his face, giving a dark touch to his gaze. They watched each other in silence for a few seconds until Charles took his right hand to her jaw and kissed her quickly, separated from her but not enough so that their breaths didn’t mix and took his fingers to her lips.

"Open your mouth" He murmured still holding her gaze, the girl obeyed by letting his fingers pass between her lips meanwhile he looked down at her mouth “Suck”.

He watched with delight as the girl's swollen lips closed around his digits, he felt her tongue playing with them. He looked into her eyes and found that she was already looking at him and almost moaned at that moment.

"Merde, mon ange" He cursed when she let go of his fingers making a pop resonate through the empty bathroom. Shit, my angel.

"Charles..." She said his name in a sigh. He looked at her expectantly with his fingers still touching her lips, the skin of her mouth stained by the red lipstick collided with his finger tips surely staining them too “Charles, please”.

"Please, what?" His voice came out in a murmur but she still heard him and of course she did because the only thing she could hear, feel and smell was him. She was drunk but the alcohol wasn’t what the room had circling around her but him.

She hated Charles Leclerc, she hated the effect he had on her, she hated that even though she was angry with him she felt the stupid need to feel his skin against hers, she hated that they couldn’t be together, she hated that he was playing with her that way, she hated that it made her question every damn aspect of his life. She hated him.

Damn Leclerc and his perfect eyes.

She squeezed her grip on his shirt and kissed the fingers that hadn’t yet separated from her lips before looking at him through her long eyelashes with the most pleading look she could give him "I need you. Please”.

Pathetic, she thought for a moment but the boy's hands rolling up on the fabric that covered her private parts returned her to reality or at least to that bubble in which they had both locked themselves. She rested her hands on the white marble countertop and raised her hips to help him slide the garment down her legs before he made a gap between them and kissed her abruptly.

She felt how the tips of his fingers caressed the inside of her thighs until he reached his destination. She felt how they grazed her folds, covering them with her juices and she groaned in his mouth when she felt him slowly rubbing her clit.

The boy broke the kiss by grabbing her neck when she saw that she made the move of throwing her head back “Was that what you wanted?” His voice was so calm, in contrast to how trembling her breathing was “Did you want my fingers, mmh?”.

"Please" She groaned and he pressed his fingers harder.

She let out a gasp when his fingers slightly touched her entrance, pushed her hips against his hand desperate for his touch, that caused him to laugh. He put one of his fingers inside and a soft moan came out of her, hips moving again to look for some kind of liberation “More” She complained in a murmur under the intense gaze of the boy.

"More?" He smiled and inserted another finger, feeling the walls tighten around his fingers, his hand moving to equalize the movements of her hips, putting in and pulling out his finger being able to hear the wet sounds.

The whining and moans began to get stronger, the nails stuck strongly in the skin of his shoulder on the fabric of his shirt and he moaned at the sensation, looking at her as he fucked her with his fingers.

Arabella thought that not only did his fingers feel incredible, but he also looked so good in front of her and just by looking at him touching her she thought he could send her to the limit. His thumb went up to rub her clit causing her to sink her teeth into her lower lip, the sensation became too intense.

"I'm so c-close" She groaned and he straightened up, crashing his lips in hers, their tongues dancing in a passionate kiss while his fingers pushed into her faster and deeper. The fluids ran through his hand while his thumb applied even more pressure. She felt so overwhelmed that she couldn't even keep up with the kiss, she was too focused on how well her fingers felt inside her.

And just when she began to feel those tickles in her lower belly that she had rarely felt in her life, everything stopped making her open her eyes abruptly. She looked at the boy in front of her confused and moaned when she felt how her disconnected their bodies.

“Charles...”.

His free hand squeezed on the back of her neck, he approached her ear and she heard how he smiled, "You're right, red doesn't look that good on you.

He walked away from her causing a sudden feeling of being cold to cover her body, she frowned when he saw him crouch and take her thong from the floor. With a mocking smile he shook it before storing it in the pocket of his pants “I'll keep this, maybe it will bring me good luck and I beat you in your home race. See you, mon ange”.

He winked at her, causing his dimples to be marked on his face. She looked at him, her eyes shining thanks to the tears of frustration that had accumulated. She clenched her jaw watching how he was leaving the bathroom so calmly. She looked silently for a couple of seconds at the door through which he had disappeared before releasing a scream of rage. She swallowed between quick breaths and closed her eyes, dropping her head against the cold mirror.

"Fucking asshole”.

𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮_𝘁𝟵 added to their story!

A mischievous smile was present Charles' face, who was looking at the photos that Arabella had uploaded. He looked up from his phone when he heard footsteps enter his part of the garage, he saw one of his teammate's engineers approach his car to talk to his own engineers. He ignored him and looked back at the device in his hands, trying to hide his deception when he saw that it wasn't the brunette.

But when a part of the conversation made its way to him he couldn't help but turn his attention to them. He continued looking at the phone and moving his thumb across the screen from time to time to disguise it.

"I recommend that you don't talk to Arabella today" Said the man whose name Charles didn't know. He had seen him several times in the other part of the Ferrari garage but the truth was that he had never paid much attention to Arabella's team. His ears perked up at the girl's name.

“Why?” His engineers were clearly not as interested as Charles as they didn't even give him a second glance and continued inspecting the car.

"Just don't say anything to her unless she talks to you first".

And with that he ran to the other end of the red walls. He frowned and got up from his seat, left the garage belonging to his team and began to walk towards McLaren's, ready to find Carlos because he knew on good authority that the spaniard was the one who kept the paddock's princess' secrets.

He laughed to himself wondering if she had told him what happened in the bathroom at the nightclub last night. He hesitated because she told him everything but he wasn't so sure if she would tell him that.

I'll find it out now, he thought as he saw the spaniard sitting on the ground with several others. He clenched his jaw at the sight of the other part of the McLaren duo but continued his pace towards them anyway.

"Haven't you noticed that she's acting strange?" The Australian's notable nose wrinkled at his own question. He narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah? No, I don't know" Alex raised his head looking at the others confused "I mean, I don't know her as well as you do but there is something different about her".

"Maybe she's just focused on trying to win in her homerace" His best friend shrugged, turning his head to look at the other side of the paddock. He raised both eyebrows when he saw him and was immediately excited "Charles is his teammate, surely he can tell us what is happening to our girl".

He looked down at him, his expression showing very clearly that he had not liked the way he had referred to the spanish woman. Gasly's annoyed smile widened as he separated the green from the blue and shook his head.

"We argued so she doesn't talk to me" He put his hands on both hips and rested his weight on one leg. He looked at Carlos surreptitiously trying to see some kind of expression that would give away that he knew about their relationship but nothing. On the one hand he felt relieved, on the other he felt the need to talk to someone about it but he knew it was too big a risk.

He felt Ricciardo's hand collide with his shoulder and then his contagious laughter filled his ears "Have you never heard the expression "happy woman, happy garage"?.

"What have you done now?".

He looked at Albon, putting a hand to his chest, offended “Why does it have to be me?”.

"She's the one who doesn't talk to you, the one who must have screwed up must have been you" Carlos joined his hands on top of his knees, his eyes focused on some distant point behind Charles' body.

He opened his mouth to complain but the vpice of the protagonist's of the conversation made everyone look in the same direction that Carlos had his eyes on. The girl walked through the paddock alongside a group of cameras and interviewers, answering her questions with her calm even though the press seemed to be about to kill each other to be able to walk near her. As if she were some kind of saint who just by being close to her and breathing her air would cure most horrible symptoms.

Lando broke the silence that had formed between them by speaking for the first time since the monegasque had joined them “They have never fought to interview me.”

"Me neither".

"Neither" Daniel responded and Alex just clicked his tongue.

He curled his lips and then remembered that in the other two races she hadn't done any kind of press. Charles didn't know why but it wasn't like he could ask her either. He watched her walk away and twisted his head, something was happening here.

"POLE position, baby!" Alexandre exclaimed in her ears and she laughed at the man's enthusiasm. As always before getting out of the car, she thanked the team over the radio and took off her helmet followed by her balaclava. She heard the roar of the Mercedes and watched as Hamilton's car parked next to hers, she saw him get out of her and copy her, taking off his helmet and balaclava. He looked at her and smiled at her raising both eyebrows to which she rolled her eyes and started walking away.

“Why are you avoiding me?” The British accent sounded soft and sweet next to her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye seeing that he had not taken long to get next to her. She tightened her grip on her helmet.

"Because I don't want to see you" She smiled sarcastically still looking ahead. Lewis frowned and quickened his pace to stand in front of her, walking backwards. He observed her face delighting in it when he saw her make a face of frustration when she saw him in front of her "You're going to fall".

A smile planted itself on his plump lips “Aw, you care about me.”

"On the contrary, it would brighten my day" Sarcasm continued decorating her pretty smile.

"I thought me being second was what would make your day" He stopped his pace abruptly, causing her to collide with him, she placed her hands on his hard chest to avoid stepping on him and grunted in annoyance while the british man smiled, clearly enjoying the moment.

As if he were poison, she quickly let go. She looked up to see him, remaining silent for a few seconds because she didn't know they were so close to each other. She blinked before pushing him away, his annoying laughter soon filling her ears “Enjoy the views from the second place.”

The man laughed again watching her walk away from him towards her garage, her car being driven by one of the engineers following her at a considerable speed. He sank her teeth into his bottom lip before raising his voice“I'll do it! Believe me, I will".

She hurried into the garage, clenching her jaw as she saw the monegasque driver giving her a smile as if nothing had happened between them "Congratulations…"

She raised a hand blocking his face and his words before passing by him and heading to the hallway that would take her to her room, ignoring how the red polo shirts were soaked with champagne and how everyone was celebrating the pole position. Upon arrival she dropped the helmet on the ground without giving much importance to the loud noise it made when it hit the ground and threw herself onto the sofa while releasing a sigh. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"ARABELLA TORRES CROSSES THE STARTING LINE CROWNED AS THE NEW WORLD CHAMPION!"

Despite the roar of the car engine and the cloaks covering her ears she could hear the screams of the audience. She frowned when she saw a sea of red and yellow flags, her team began to take their place on the fence that separated the track from the pedestrian zone, she saw how they shouted with smiles on their faces and how they waved their flag in the air and then she knew.

She had won.

She had won the last race of the season and just like that the fucking title of world champion was hers.

She laughed madly, raising her arm above the halo in celebration. She pressed the button on the radio and incredulously asked "Have I won?".

"YOU'RE WORLD CHAMPION, BABY!—She heard Susie's scream, behind the blonde's voice she could hear the others celebrating the victory. Her smile widened even more making her cheeks start to hurt. Wolff wiped her own tears and picked up the microphone, bringing it to her lips. "You've won, Arabella. You've done".

Her lips trembled but the smile didn't fade, her throat went dry and for a moment she saw blurred "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much to all of you, guys."

Come on, get out of the car so we can celebrate" This time it was Toto's voice that rang through her ears, he nodded and followed the few meters of road until she reached the sign with the number one. She parked in it and sighed before getting up from her seat and raising both arms in victory.

She got out of the car feeling tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She took off her helmet and balaclava before kneeling on the ground right in front of the car, clasping her hands together and resting them against the nose of the black car and then resting her forehead on her hands, as if she were praying to the machine. She lowered her head until her forehead was almost touching the floor and, finally, she cried. She let out a sob so hard her chest hurt, and she grabbed the fabric of the chest of her suit tightly.

"Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!" For a moment she heard nothing but the audience chanting her name.

She sobbed again, raising her head, looking around around. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Was that really happening? She looked at the camera in front of her and with her hand on rop of her heart chehe vocalized several "Thank you" non-stop.

Suddenly she heard a loud bang and immediately afterward the screams of people, she looked at her hands and frowned when she saw that they were illuminated by an orange light.

She raised her head slowly seeing how her car was on fire, she moved her gaze to the right finding the red car embedded in the side of hers. She watched in horror as Charles's lifeless eyes looked back at her.

“Arabella, Arabella, Arabella!” The crowd's cries grew even louder and she willed them to shut up. She got up to run towards Charles but it was too late, neither he nor both cars nor even the circuit were there.

“Arabella, wake up” Some light pushes drew her to reality, with a gasp she opened her eyes, meeting Sebastian's face.

She smiled when she saw him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She heard his laugh and felt how he gave a kiss on her hair before caressing it.

"I'm here, siéger” He whispered into her ear, his voice immediately bringing him peace. She sighed against his shoulder “I'm here.” Champion.

"God, I've missed you so much" She murmured against his jacket, she hid her face even more in his neck, feeling the man's hand go up and down her back.

“Me too, siéger” He patted her on the back a couple of times and began to let her go. He looked at her with a frown “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yeah, but…wait” Her gaze ran to rest on the clock on the wall right next to the television. She opened her eyes in surprise before looking at the man kneeling in front of her "Is it Sunday already?".

Vettel nodded “Yes, you've been sleeping here since qualifying. It's been a long nap”.

She put her head in her hands, hiding her face in them, and let out a sigh “I didn't sleep much yesterday.”

“How much?”.

She denied, remembering that when she arrived at the villa that the boys had rented she couldn't sleep but instead stayed tossing and turning in bed all night without stopping thinking about the race and how frustrated the green-eyed boy had left her. Plus Carlos's unconscious body trying to hug her every chance she got didn't help her much “An hour”.

“Fuck, siéger” He let out an incredulous laugh “And yet you qualified on pole, incredible”.

She shrugged as if it was nothing. She turned her neck to both sides grimacing when she heard the bones creak and got up from the couch being followed by the german, who stepped forward to open the door for her.

They walked among the paddock, heading to the common cafeteria so the girl could have breakfast. They both ignored the surprised looks at seeing the former champion walk and chat so calmly next to the driver, since it was not public knowledge that she and Sebastian Vettel had known each other and had maintained a friendship since she was a child. She licked her lips watching the cameras not far from them, she knew that at any moment people were going to find out so she tried not to give it much importance while the dark blonde, on the other hand, looked a little worried.

Sebastian knew that the girl didn’t want the public to know about her friendship, either the one she had with him or with the Schumachers, since the public would quickly question all of her achievements in her career. Both Sebastian and Mick understood and agreed with her, they knew Michael would agree too. And that's how it had been since they met, distancing herself from the Schumacher’s son while they were in public when they met at a race even though they both wanted to talk or simply enjoy each other's company, not being able to go to Sebastian's races to support him or couldn't even talk about how the germans had become fundamental supports in her life since she met them at the tender age of eleven.

That's why he couldn't help but be surprised when he accepted her call and heard her invite him to the next race. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, he knew that she had had a bad time and he was worried about her, after all for him, she was like his eldest daughter. Not for nothing did his first-born daughter bear her name.

Once seated in the cafeteria, they were accompanied by the girl's manager and her publicist, who after waiting for her to have breakfast, dragged her away because she had to do some interviews.

“Don't you notice something strange on her?” Nicholas took a bite of his croissant, both men watching the two women walk away at a hasty pace.

“There is something in her gaze” He responded, nodding “Something that I don't know if I like”.

He had noticed it and it had not been difficult for him to recognize that shine in her eyes. He more than anyone could know it, because a while ago he also had that shine in his own eyes.

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privitivium · 3 months

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this guy rambles. motherly yan bf is all…

it's weird, i know, but it's a thing of mine!!! a need!!! a want!!!

an arrangement where you have to notify him several days before you hangout with someone in ur shared space... a common courtesy, but you think just a day before is good enough, no?? he wants to be notify days in advance,,, just to prepare himself, knowing that you'd be hanging out with someone else in the comfort of your own room - he has very ugly jealousy, and is sure to reprimand you in the future when you're actually together,,, wants to be there in some way if you have a friend over, wanting to assert dominance, listening through the wall or watching the grainy camera feed he has set up on one of your high shelves in the corner,,, i feel like it's a little weird but yeah, he's Mother.,,, wanting to look after you in his own weird way. a stoic guy, yet sweet in all kinds of ways.. in personality, taste, actions.. just imagining this big scary guy, squishy body, being all pleasant and gentle, just to try and heal you,,, ‘’mom,, ;; a slip of the tongue usually, when you find yourself being cared for in a soft, loving mannerㅡbefore he decides that yes, please call him mother, he'll love you, sweet boy.,,

type of dude to try to bake cookies while being stuffed by you from behind. ahemhrm. kinda gently scolds you about being too rough ( slamming him into the counter ), but not at all serious as he tries to weakly stir the bowl of ingredients for cake, but ultimately gives up and loses himself in the feeling of you filling him up,,, maybe he should use you as a treat for himself.. using your fluids and mixing them with some frosting, just to fill them up in some kind of baked good for him to enjoy… would you,, find that a little weird? probably, but i mean,, the dudes’ your lover, so you don't really mind all his weird little quirks or ideas including your bodily fluids in most.. maybe i'll go the extra mile and make him a freak murderer or something,,

mother being the breadwinner and housewife - it comes natural to him,, a man who simply does not get tired., of courseㅡunlessㅡyou'd like to be the breadwinner, then obviously - yes, go ahead and make him proud,,, he's sure to pack your lunch of deliciousness and a note signed with his lipstick stain that he only put on just to put a lipstick stain on the note of praise of looping cursive letters, sure to add a “my sweet boy,” knowing that completely does it for you,, so kind and considerate he is ,,,. hgngnhhgnng

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★#male reader #x male reader #x top male reader #top male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere male x reader #MOTHERLY YAN!

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aswaki · 1 month

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sex ban [smt x reader]

seok matthew x reader | 1.2k word count | explicit (minors dni)

“you enforce a sex ban with matthew”

contains: afab bodied!reader, needy!matthew, crack (??), suggestive tone, reader being a tease, pet names ("baby", "babe")

he let out a laugh because he thought you were joking. he was waiting for you to laugh along with him... to hit him with a “sike!” and start stripping.... but you didn't.

matthew gave you a bewildered look, “you cannot be serious.”

“watch me,” was your only response before you walked away from him. no. you strutted away from him. moving your hips in a way you knew that would drive matthew up a wall.

the whole day you were teasing him relentlessly. you wore tight clothes that emphasized your curves. you held on to his arm sensually. you were doing the most to get a reaction out of him. however, every time he would go initiate something, you tried to act clueless in this little game of cat and mouse of yours. his advances went all ignored.

you were probably amused by all this. matthew wasn't. (not one bit.) (he liked challenges but not this.)

it was pure torture that went on for three days.

the day after you declared you'd stop fucking him indefinitely, you purposely picked up something in front of matthew. the shorts you had on was being true to its name; it was too short that your ass cheeks were showing.

you arched your back that made him think of all the sinful things he could do to you in the bedroom. he was so aroused he could fuck you right then and there. he wanted to break your back.

as you bent down, he groaned. he came up behind you and smacked your ass.

“matty!” you squealed. you immediately stood up straight. matthew pressed your bodies closer. you could feel him hardening behind you. instinctively, you rubbed your ass on his cock.

matthew smiled thinking he was winning. he started to kiss your neck but you pulled away.

once you started being intimate with each other, you've been going at it like rabbits in heat. if his cock wasn't inside of you, he would be squished between your thighs, tongue prodding your cunt and lapping up your juices.

this was a good thing— matthew being obsessed with you. way too good that it had gotten you severely tardy from work a lot. your supervisor called you in about your attitude to reprimand you, even with a threat of dismissal.

“if you wanted to fuck, you should've thought about your actions before you did it!” you scolded him with a pout. you became handsy as you palmed him above his sweatpants. he loudly moaned in ecstasy as you did so. you kind of missed his cock and the sounds you made together. (but you wanted to be responsible for once!)

“said, i was sorry, baby.” he told you through his teeth, mostly likely getting needier.

you knew you were getting horny. at the same time, you did not like to back down. you did enjoy teasing matthew just to get things out of your system (and as a little bit of pay back for getting you in trouble at work).

you removed yourself from him so you wouldn't be tempted any longer.

matthew knew you were just as turned on as he was. the outline of your pert nipple could be seen through your body hugging top. he wanted nothing more than to pinch it with his fingers.

on god, matthew almost went on his knees to beg you to fuck but he had to remain a little bit of dignity.

for the second time that week, he could only watch you walk away from him. he wanted to smack your ass again. he looked down at his slight boner and sighed, “guess it's just you and me, buddy.”

on the third day of your evil sex ban, matthew felt like he was going to lose it. his hands didn't give him the same pleasure just as you did but it was all he could do.

the entire day he let his imagination run wild as he thought about you. he imagined his hand sliding across your smooth leg before venturing out to what's in between your thighs. in his mind, he could see himself pressing his crotch against yours. you were being tied up to the bed post, calling for him. matthew even pulled up some of the nudes you sent him back then so he could masturbate to you like a fucking idiot virgin at the bathroom.

this was the worst moment of his life. it truly humbled him.

he hung his head low in defeat as he entered the apartment. it had been a long day. all he wanted was to sink in your plush thighs and squeeze your ass to relax. (but he couldn't. curse your sex ban.)

“oh, you're home.” you said, coming out of his room.

you were wearing one of matthew's sweaters. seeing you in his clothing always turned him on. it was even worse now that he had these pent up energy in him. he was sure you were seducing him right now.

he wasn't the only one feeling frustrated.

you, on the side of things, felt like you were going to fold as soon as you saw him. he was so hot. you can't believe you held off from fucking him. sweat was dribbling down his neck. his hair a bit damp. an indication he was at the gym.

his biceps were flexing as he placed his things down.

“christ,” you muttered to yourself as you watched him. you bit your lip. you could cut the tension with a knife in the room.

you decided to wave your white flag down. you admitted to yourself that this was getting ridiculous.

you headed straight to him and literally jumped on him. matthew caught you on reflex despite being surprised. he had planned to pathetically beg to you until you caved in to lift your ban but here you were breaking before him.

it was a turn on how he carried you with ease. he let out a sound of pleasure as he finally got to hold you. he hooked his arms underneath your thighs as you put your legs around his waist. he relished at the feeling of your soft thighs; the one he'd been thinking about earlier.

“missed me, baby?” he looked at you with so much desire. his pride rose knowing you were the one who gave in to him.

like magnets, both of yours lips attached itself to one another. a breathless kiss with so much emotions. three days worth of pent up sexual needs. the atmosphere in the room instantly becoming hot and heavy.

your fingers played with the hair at the back of his head after you wrapped your arms around his neck. you held on to him like this for more support but also so you can keep him close to you. you did miss your matty.

“need you,” you panted out in between kisses. you were the one who put the both of you in this situation. the ban was your idea. should you even be saying that you needed him? matthew was in disbelief.

he pulled away from your kiss just a bit. and you had the audacity to whimper. “i'll punish you for this, you know.” matthew whispered. you could feel his breath fanning your lips.

you had him on edge for days. obviously, he would make sure to give you a taste of your own medicine. you only grinned at his words before pressing your lips together again. your lips moved hungrily against his.

“can't wait for it, babe.”

a/n: so... what do we think? hehe this was fun to write. (the photos matthew sent as i was writing definitely helped lol lol lol) (my other wips are probably wondering why i started on a new project and finished it before them... i will get to them soon!) btw, my asks are open if you want to leave matthew requests or if you just want to talk about him! (i need to interact with more zeroses and seokryudans.) and... thank you for reading! rbs, likes, and comments are always appreciated. (':

divider credit: saradika-graphics

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yuurei20 · 4 months

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I've noticed Epel keeps adding 'kana' to the end of his sentences. What does it mean?

Hello hello! Thank you so, so much for this question, I have always wanted to mention this.

“Kana” can be a multitude of things in English, such as “probably,” “I guess,” “I think,” “I wonder,” etc. A basic explanation would be, “a word used to express uncertainty,” but like most things when it comes to language, that is not the only thing it does.

A quick review of Epel: from his first day at NRC he has been under order from Vil to “speak more politely,” as he tends to use informal speech with his senpai.

As you point out, Epel often adds “kana” to what he is saying, and that is because one of the things that it can do is ‘soften’ something that you’re saying in order to make it sound less direct, and thus more polite.

Examples: Epel telling Kalim that his assumption is wrong, telling Vil that he disagrees with him, saying that his Phantom Bride look is weird, etc., these are all sentences that he is awkwardly gentling via “kana,” often after several ellipses or a comma, as though it is not a part of his normal speech pattern.

This gets into cultural differences: When Ace assumes that Epel is dedicated to a certain brand of apple juice, for example, an English-speaking Epel could probably respond, “That’s not actually the case!,” without sounding rude. But that could be interpreted as a little brusque in Japanese.

In order to soften the expression Epel adds “kana” at the end, which sounds more like, “That might not be the case,” “I’m not sure that is exactly what is going on,” etc., in English.

Even though he knows for 100% certainty that he is not actually dedicated to a certain brand of juice, he is still using “kana” in order to not sound too straightforward.

(screenshot from maggiesensei.com)

(This can and does cause issues when moving in between languages: a Japanese learner who only knows that “kana” means “I think” might not add it onto sentences where they are certain about something, and thus risk annoying their Japanese-speaking colleagues, for example. In contrast, an English learner may say “I think” too often, leading their English-speaking colleagues to wonder why they don’t seem to actually know anything. It’s all part of the joy of language and culture!)

While there are several words in Japanese that can be used to soften your phrasing, Epel seems to have latched onto “kana” in particular, possibly because it is an easy word to add on to the last part of what might otherwise be a rude sentence in an attempt to avoid a reprimand from Vil.

Other times Epel will belatedly add “desu” onto his sentences, also in a bid to sound more polite than he is used to speaking.

If you are a language learner I would not recommend using Epel as an example of when to use “kana,” as he will sometimes shoehorn it into places in an unnatural way (as a part of his character).

EN is doing its best to recreate Epel’s “kana” by including things like “kind of,” “not sure” and “maybe” in his dialogue, but as sounding uncertain doesn’t necessarily mean you sound polite in English, this may not be having the same effect. And I have no idea how they would go about recreating this habit of Epel’s in a way that can properly portray what is happening in English—it might just be one of those things that gets lost in translation :<

Bonus: The Japanese language has four different alphabets (kanji, katakana, hiragana, romaji), and katakana is the alphabet used for foreign loanwords.

Whereas other characters who use honorifics have “-kun” and “-san” written in hiragana in their dialogue, Epel’s dialogue uses katakana. This is possibly meant to symbolize how using honorifics in these situations is foreign to him, and he is not used to it.

(When he does shift into using honorifics in hiragana, it is only when he is talking to people from his own village: people he is used to!)

#twstask #Epel Felmier #twisted wonderland

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bluexiao · 2 years

Text

#we’re only seatmates but is there a chance we could be more?

—they’re sitting next to you, but why does it feel like they’re hiding something from you?

CHARACTERS. Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli; g! Reader

THEMES. fluff, kinda platonic and romantic at the same time, mutual pining

NOTES. I was about to do the enemies to lovers one but i had no idea how to write it for now so im going back to what i originally planned on writing this time. I hope you’ll enjoy this~

oh btw should i also start writing for heizou??

ZHONGLI is your colleague at work. You two were not close per se, but you did exchange usual common greetings to each other without a fail. If you were to rate him, he probably is the best co-worker you’ve ever had. He is helpful, he is respectful, and he is also a good conversationalist. Actually, you feel bad that he is like this towards you but you thought to yourself that he’s like this to everyone else and that it was just a part of his personality. “Mr. Zhongli, you’re literally the best!” You’d often tell him. What you didn't know, however, is that he feels pleased whenever he hears this and that he was able to help you somehow. He himself did not know much about romantic feelings, but every time he sees you smiling happily and looking well rested, he was fairly sure that it was enough to be at peace for the day.

XIAO is that classmate that you never had the chance to talk to. Actually, you even forgot he was your classmate until he got seated next to you. You attempted to have a conversation with him several times but his replies are rather short, but he does respond to you and does not completely ignore you so…maybe that’s a good thing! Little by little, you were making baby steps in making him your friend. After all, he will be your seatmate for the entire term, it would be a waste if you let this chance slip by. XIAO is by far not the most talkative person in class so it would be nice if you could at least be his friend, right? He does not seem like he was rejecting your friendship too. Maybe he does not mind at all! Unknown to you, he really did not. Actually, he liked it. Too much, I’m afraid.

VENTI is pretty much well-known all over the school so, of course, you know who he was. Actually, when you got seated beside him, damn the professor always looked your way with knitted brows, knowing that it was you who was giggling softly to VENTI’s joke that he whispered to you all of a sudden. It’s not even a surprise that you and he got reprimanded a couple of times because of this. Normally, you’re not really like this, but whenever you get seated next to him, it’s like he’s inflicting you with his contagious energy that you could not move away from. In the end, the professors probably either assigned you two apart or warned both of you that if they see you two together, they would kick you both out of the room. Before that could happen, however, you found yourself being called by him on the balcony, telling you that he has something to confess to you. What could it be? You’ll have to go to find out.

THOMA is a good seatmate. Literally. He even shares his lunch with you whenever you did not have one or if you felt like you wanted to eat more. And his cooking is absolutely delicious! How can you say no to that? Most of the time, you even ditch your friends just to eat with him instead. Over time, it became clear to you and everyone else that the two of you were quite close… but there were also rumors that you and he were already dating. You were on your way to tell him that you were sorry for the whole ordeal when you found yourself face to face with a blushing THOMA. Now that is something you could easily deduce, you’re not dense… or were you?

SCARAMOUCHE is someone who you never wanted to sit next to. Seriously. Who would want to sit next to the guy anyway? He usually bullies anyone who sits next to him, no matter who they are. And of course, in the end, your wish was unheard by the Archons. And let’s just say that it’s not the most pleasant thing at all.

However, your expectations deemed you surprised by the time your first class sitting together came. You prepared yourself the whole night and day before the class, even meditating about calming your mind and not letting your anger seep through for the day. Ultimately, the man did not even look at you a single time! Not that you were complaining though, it’s not like you wanted him to… but it did bother you until the end of the day. Maybe… this is just for today? He’s just messing with your mind today? But no, it happened for the whole week, and now you’re just used to it. But for what reason is he like this? Why in the world is he ignoring you? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to say hello at least once…

But when you did greet him good morning, he still ignored you. But he did look you in the eye. And… have his eyes always looked this pretty?

KAZUHA is like a fresh breeze when you sit next to him. He is probably one of the best seatmates out there. Whenever you got sleepy at your Physics class, he would slickly pass you a piece of paper that would sometimes be a bunch of words for you to reply with or a game that would keep you awake in the meantime. You’re thankful to him because of this, and this is how you two had gotten close actually. Before you never expected him to even do this kind of thing as he once sat next to your friend and he never did this to them, they said. Maybe it’s just something he discovered recently, you began to reason to yourself. And why are you overthinking such things? It’s not like he’s doing this because he likes you right…

KAEYA is that officemate you probably have a hard time understanding. Sometimes, he’ll come up to you and straight up say weird things and then open up about work all of a sudden. Then later he’ll come and flirt or tease you. Such a weird man, but you don’t feel uncomfortable with him nonetheless. He’s good at his work too, you observed, and your boss always praises him, no matter how different he works. You just don’t know how but he always has this mysterious and cunning aura him. But why is he only teasing you by the way? Does he have a grudge against you or something?

ITTO is the loudest coworker you ever had. Like ever. Additionally, he has a lot of “goons” you call—those who always follow him as he’s a boss, after all, you both are. You kind of pity them sometimes that you help them with their work once in a while. Actually, you do it so often but it’s not that trivial at all. Sometimes, you wanted to report him for teaching wrong things to his staff but you only saw it as a nuisance so you just taught them whenever you could. You have work too, after all.

What confused you, however, was that one time one of his “goons” muttered something out of his breath. “Will the boss not get angry at us? We’re asking for Y/n’s help once again…”

“Shh! Let’s just not say it or he’ll get jealous again. We should really help him come up with ideas on how to confess soon.”

You smiled to yourself then. Maybe you’ll just have to approach him or that “soon” will be too far away.

GOROU is quite an average seatmate. He’s very normal that you won’t even realize that he has feelings for you. Actually, he does try his best not to be too obvious about it so his tactics are working after all! Well, that is until his friends started teasing him for always being sat next to him. They were from another class, thankfully, but when they saw you sitting right next to him, they erupted in cheers and some even whistled… You were so confused until he hastily explains that “M-My friends uh-they uh- they think that I like you or something, but it’s not like that at all! I swear! T-they’re just…. They’re just messing with me, that’s all…” he looked very hesitant and afraid that you chose to say you believe him at that time, but now that you think about it, it does not seem true at all.

DILUC, at first, you thought was going to give you a hard time. After all, he was probably the only one in class that you have not exchanged a sentence with and he gives cold glares too! But when the time came and he became your seatmate, you realized it was not as bad as you thought. He minds his own space, you mind your own space; he has his own business, and you have your own. Simple as that. But one time, you decided to chat with him for a bit. Just a conversation that you thought would be completely harmless. You just did not expect him to have reddened ears with the same hue as his hair the whole duration you two talked. Maybe he’s a bit shy? Well, it’s a pretty cute look anyway.

DAINSLEIF is that coworker who always knew what you needed. Feeling very confused about a certain topic? He’ll come to assist you if you’d like… but you’ll have to tell him what coffee you usually prefer. He always comes up with these random questions, telling you that it’s a “trade of answers” between the two of you, no matter how unimportant his questions seem to be. They’re often about you, or how you feel towards a certain coworker or so, he never asked what you think about him though. You wonder why.

CHILDE is competitive. That bit you already knew because he literally had to fight someone in order to sit next to you, well that is if there is someone else who wanted to sit next to you, but well, it will happen. When you asked him why he had done such a thing, he said that it was because “I wanted to sit next to you, of course!” While his elbow was on the table and his cheek was propped on his wrist, looking straight at you with a sly smirk as he says so. Sometimes, you wonder if this man is just teasing you or genuine with his words, but you definitely had a warm face after that.

AYATO is that coworker that you always exchanged greetings with and you just realized that he always takes a seat next to you at meetings, however long or short it may be. Not that you minded, but it was just something that your friend had told you about and it was the only way you were able to perceive that maybe he does like you—like you in a platonic way, okay? There’s no way someone like him would like you romantically after all! … Right?

ALBEDO is that seatmate in Chemistry class that will help you when you got stuck in a question or wanted to answer the professor but had a hard time doing so and he decides to help you. Actually, scratch that. He only does this to you. Whenever others try to ask him questions or for him to teach them, he’d say that “I can only take one student at a time,” or “I apologize, I’m meeting Y/n at the library later.” Literally, everyone else has gotten a whiff of his “favoritism” on you except you yourself.

AETHER is the most helpful classmate out there. Many of your classmates rely on him, actually. “Aether, do you have an extra pen?” “Aether, can I borrow your scissors?” And so on. You felt bad for him, so much that you went on your way to tell him that it was alright to say no sometimes. At that time, he was not yet that close to you, but you think it was the moment that started it, nonetheless. Ever since, you were glad that he says no to those who would be too forceful and irresponsible, all the while chatting with you and helping you every once in a while—to which you are the one who’ll have to say no, thinking to yourself that maybe he just could not get rid of his habit of helping out others.

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~

TAGLIST (fill the form to be added/removed) (bold=cannot tag)

@softlybeloved @icecappa @sushiyay @scaraslover @beastielevi @rviden @thesatanofpizza @izayanna @stellumi @coco-goat-milk @nonniechan @m3gitsune @chuubear @kiyoobi @catisnerd @ventislatte @weakestpoint @pinkfeiry @aweebstuff @zhongchi14 @windwheel-aster @irethepotato @squiddaloo @scaramunch @cruxdou @favonius-captain @aqualesha @kazuhas-alphabet @astreankitsune @lordbugs @itsghostgirlyo @his-simp @meumorio @tkooooop @fiona782 @my-goldfish-is-not-gold @lisalanding @ezra0000 @extrakuli @kazu-topia @rayskyee @b1loop @kanattac @basicsofdying @windwheel-aster @serenenation @hadesgift @kazewhara @lilikags @solaaresque @yuremini @chichikoi @mooonluv @cloudysky0 @lunaeire @corlapisminer @hahakoharu @myrenbworks @brazilian-anon @k-a-z-u-h-a @kaeyaheart @irethepotato @disa-ster @hoshikistarlette @itsactuallylina @astrothighology @sinhasfluffyheadfur @nejibot @myaaki @kaedelove @nejibot @sarahyumiko2 @kaerui-kaisen @loyal-to-my-dilf @yaexure @random-names-stuff @yumekos-gamble

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #thoma x reader #diluc x reader #itto x reader #gorou x reader #dainsleif x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ayato x reader #albedo x reader #aether x reader

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rachalixie · 1 year

Text

what i’m looking for

you, quite literally, run into kim seungmin on your escape from an arranged marriage.

tags: strangers to lovers, hidden identity, she/her!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.4k

you never thought you would be in a situation like this, running through the woods in poorly fitting clothes and shoes, branches snagging at your hair and arms as you wind your way through the forest searching for something, anything. and yet, here you are. cursed engagement ring hidden away in your satchel along with a pocket of gold coins and whatever stale pieces of food your handmaid was able to steal for you before you took your leave.

you’re surprised it took you until a week before your wedding to run away, but you were never one to back down from a challenge; you tried everything you could think of to call it off, but your parents wouldn’t budge. something about it being the best decision for the kingdom, or whatever - nevermind what you want. nevermind that your brother would become king and therefore you were simply a bargaining chip to be used for political power. nevermind the reputation of your betrothed, the reputation of his kingdom and how they treat women like you. nevermind that they’re sending you into a life of despair and discomfort.

the cool dusk breeze beating against your face feels almost euphoric as you sprint, cautiously looking behind you to make sure you’re not being followed. surely someone had noticed your departure? but you made sure to cover your tracks well; the boots you’re wearing are several sizes too big, stuffed with cloth to ease the fit, and any tracker would dismiss them on their hunt for you.

you’re abruptly sent down to the forest floor when a boy appears almost out of nowhere, tripping you and making you lose your footing. he tumbles down with you, taking the brunt of your fall, and annoyance pings within you when he groans at the impact. you’re scrambling off his lap as fast as you can, hands scrabbling at dried leaves on the ground that stick to your palms.

“where did you come from?” you demand, watching him stand up with an indignant look on his face. his pouty lips are twisted into a frown and his hair is fluffed up from his fall. in any other situation you might think he was cute. “do you not watch where you’re going?”

“oh sorry, i’m not really used to people running through my property,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and a reprimand that you have to tamp down sits at the tip of your tongue. for all he knows, you’re a commoner; announcing that he should be aware of your royal status and that technically, you own this property probably isn’t the best move. he would turn you in faster than you can speak your own name, collecting whatever reward your father most likely posted in return for your safe delivery back to the palace.

“your property?” you land on, feeling it a safe question. you look past his head and notice a tiny cottage a few yards away, ivy lining the bricks and a soft puff of smoke escaping from the chimney.

“yes,” he drawls out, as if talking to a child. “the place where i reside. you know, sleep and eat. surely you know what that is?”

“of course i do,” you huff, crossing your arms. did you look homeless to him, or something? a terrible idea sparks in the back of your mind as he looks away from you and you notice the rapidly setting sun. it hits you that you had no plan, nowhere to go, nothing to eat and no shelter for the night.

“anyways. enjoy the rest of your. jog?” he says, voice lilting up at the end like he’s not sure whether or not to be suspicious of you. he turns to walk away and a flash of panic takes over your body.

“wait!” you lunge to grip at his sleeve, a display of impropriety that you usually wouldn’t let yourself indulge in with anyone other than your closest advisors. the material feels rough under your skin, as do the borrowed clothes hanging off of your shoulders. “do you have an extra room? or a mat on the floor? i can pay you, i just need somewhere to stay.”

“what, are you on the run or something?” a spark lights in his eyes, and your hair stands on end when you realize that he’s amused. as if he knows anything about you.

“or something,” you grit out, knowing that whatever sarcastic comment that you want to make probably won’t end up with him agreeing to let you in. despite his inarguably annoying personality, he has a house, and you need him right now. you can’t imagine that you’ll run into anyone else tonight, and sleeping on the forest floor does not seem safe.

“how much?” he says, quirking an eyebrow up. you mentally cringe at the amount of money you have hidden away in your bag,

“enough,” you squint your eyes at him, gauging him. he meets your gaze for an impressive amount of time before nodding his head towards the small building and starting his trek.

“what’s your name?” you ask, following behind him, knowing but not caring that not offering yours first was rude. he looks back at you for a beat of time before shrugging.

“kim seungmin. and you?”

you give him your name, grateful to your parents for the first time in a while. they kept your true name hidden from anyone outside of the palace, and their secrecy was annoying until this very moment. it would be nice to be called something other than princess for a while, you’re sure.

he mouths your name, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment before grinning.

“well then, welcome to my home. i’ll make up a cot for you in the living room, are you hungry?” he rambles as he lets you in, closing and locking the door behind you. the skeptic sarcastic you met outside seems to melt away to reveal slumped shoulders and tired eyes, unmasked by the comfort of his space. it warms you up along with the shelter of a roof, a reprieve from the biting cold of the outside.

he doesn’t wait for your answer before walking off, leaving you to stand between the small kitchen and cozy looking living room. there’s small trinkets strewn around, soft mismatched couches with worn blankets and a rickety looking kitchen table surrounded by stools. he returns with a thin padded mattress and a pillow and he sets it down by the burning fireplace. it’s not the luxurious four post bed that you’re used to, but it’ll do.

“let me treat that for you,” he gestures at your knees, where small dots of blood seep through a tear in your trousers. there’s a small scrape you didn’t notice until now, the sting making itself known when you bend your leg just a bit to get a better look.

“it’s just a scratch,” you protest, not wanting to bite off more than you can chew with him. you already owe him for letting you in, you don’t want to think about how fast your reserves will dwindle down if he does you any more favors.

“please, i insist,” he guides you to sit on one of the stools at the kitchen table before reaching into the cabinet next to him. “i’m an apothecary, and i know my way around basic medicine. it’s not a big deal.”

you nod stiffly and let him inspect the small wound, the breath leaving you when he drops to his knees in front of you to get a better look. he rolls up your pant leg and he cleans it with rapt attention, making sure not to press too hard, and applies a greenish looking salve onto it.

“there, all done,” he says, patting the bandage he had wrapped around it before letting the cloth of your trousers back down.

“thank you,” you say, genuine in the way his returning smile is. you reach into your bag, fishing for the small bag of coins. “how much? i can pay you in advance for letting me stay, and for this.”

“keep it,” he says, voice even softer than it was before. “you can help me around the house. the weeding, or gathering wood for the fire. i don’t want your money, not when you probably need it more than i do. i make enough to get by.”

so you do. the first morning you stumble through the garden, side by side with him as he shows you which plants in his garden were herbs he could use for his medicines and which were leeching weeds that needed to be plucked before they took over the entire space. he disappears to town in the afternoon, delivering medicines and coming back with a pocket jingling with coins and a bag full of fresh pastries for the both of you. they taste better than anything you’ve eaten from the palace cooks, and you can’t help the way you moan around the cherry hand pie. you catch his eye and he meets it before you both dissolve into giggles, leaning into each other’s space on the same side of the table.

he helps you wash your clothes that night, tutting at how you only have one pair. he lends you a pair of his, an old set that he doesn’t wear anymore. you lay at night and swipe the fabric between your fingers, smiling at the gesture even though he isn’t there to receive it.

his kindness shocks you, you’re not used to people doing things for you without the authority of the crown making them or them demanding something in return. it’s nice, knowing that there’s people in your kingdom that contain such compassion, especially for strangers.

the next day he takes you deeper into the forest to pick berries, and the red and purple bursted splotches staining your fingertips for hours after. he feeds you some with his bare hand, swiping his thumb against the corner of your mouth when sweet juice escapes it. you bristle at the action and he laughs, and you have to hide your smile in your sleeve as you wipe the rest off yourself. you stay out until the sun begins to set, him busy teaching you about every type of plant the two of you come across on your stroll and you listening with rapt attention. his voice is soothing, words speeding up and slurring together a bit when he finds something particularly interesting that he wants to show you. he makes you feel almost like when you were a child studying with your tutors, quizzing you every now and then to test your retention, but the smile he rewards you with is better than anything they ever gave you.

on the third day, he’s gone before you wake. he left a note on the table for you stating that he had to go to town for a medical emergency, and that there was bread and cheese in one of the cupboards for you to eat while he was away. you busy yourself with two knitting needles and a ball of thread you find in the living room, trying and failing to create a pattern of knots. he comes home as the sun is setting, the last rays making his hair a honeyed brown and his skin glow. your stomach clenches at the sight of him, the relief you’re feeling foreign to your body.

he grins at the sight of you surrounded by unraveled strings and gently pries your hands from the needles where they had become clenched. he wordlessly shows you how to create simple weaves with the needles, and you have to ask him to show you twice because you’re too busy staring at his tongue poking from his lips to focus the first time around. you end up with a wobbly looking hat, some knots too bit and some too tight that create gaping holes in weird places, but he places it on his head and thanks you for it anyways.

“you have a lot of secrets,” he muses the next night, sipping tea with you by the fireplace. you almost lose your grip on the mug from his abruptness.

“i do?” you ask, not willing to give away information that he doesn’t already have. you had spent the day in companionship, trading back quips and sarcastic comments between meals. he taught you about the medicines he was making that day, explaining each ingredient and its properties as he cut them up and beat them into a paste. his comment was out of place, but it’s something you’ve come to expect from him; there’s no predictability to him past the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles and the way his face goes soft when he looks at you.

“you pretend you’re a commoner, but your hands are free of callouses. your hair is full and healthy, you speak formally, you’re clearly well off. or at least, you were. what i don’t understand is why you decided to leave that behind.” his bottom lip is twisting between his teeth, not knowing whether he’s crossed a line with you.

“true,” you admit, wrapping your hands further around your tea and letting the warmth seep into your hands. it grounds you. “i didn’t think i had a choice. i wanted to make my own decisions, wanted to decide my own fate, not have someone do it for me. i felt suffocated, so i just. left. i don’t know what i was looking for, but i needed to get out.”

“have you found it?” he says, peering at you from above his mug as he takes a long sip. “what you’re looking for?”

“maybe,” you pause, looking into his eyes. they’re cocoa-dusted brown, the fire dancing across his pupils. he looks away after a moment, and you’re grateful for it. you wouldn’t want him to see the flush thats traveled up to your cheeks and ears.

by the fifth day, you’re able to identify the uncomfortable feeling in your gut whenever he walks into a room. or looks at you. or breathes, really.

you’re falling for him.

you’re not in love with him, you’re not so deluded by his puppy-like charm and stupid smile and cute teeth and sparkly eyes that you’re calling it love. you can simply identify the feeling of free falling as clearly as it was laid out in the novels you used to sneak into your room to read by the candlelight before bed.

it isn’t as difficult to look him in the eyes after you’ve identified it as you thought it would be. if anything, you’re even more drawn to his magnetism, your body moving towards his without your permission at any given time. while he’s preparing lunch, or chopping herbs, or telling you about his trip to town, you’re in his space. and the worst part is, he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, he seems to gravitate towards you with the same intensity, or you hope so at least; it isn’t unrealistic that it’s your rose-colored vision making you see things that aren’t there.

regardless, it brings something more dangerous to your attention: hope. the hope that maybe, this could be a life for you. that this temporary stop in your journey might become permanent. that you’re far enough from your home that no one will recognize you if you step into town, that you could spend the rest of your days with him in this cottage, eating pastries and knitting and picking berries.

there was no need to tell him that now. you were fine with the way things were, you were still technically engaged, and you didn’t even know if you were ready for something like that. for the infinite time since you can remember, you’re cursing your sheltered upbringing for not teaching you how to live.

it’s on the sixth day that things go crumbling down.

he’s gone again, leaving you in comfortable silence broken up by birds chirping outside and the sound of leaves rustling past the windows. it’s domestic, the way he works during the morning and comes home a few hours later to you twiddling the knitting needles between your hands, a ball of yarn by your feet and a haphazard scarf forming under them.

“your highness?” he says, and you hear a rustle of paper, him putting his mail down most likely.

“hmm?” you sound absentmindedly, still focused on the knitting you’re trying to painstakingly learn. it hits you a moment later what he said, and you drop the scarf and needles with a gasp. you look up to see your worst nightmare in the form of him holding up a missing persons poster, a drawn image of your face adorning the middle and your name plastered underneath. missing princess, it reads, complete with a reward for your safe return. you knew this would happen, you just didn’t think it would happen so soon. a day before your wedding. you thought you had more time. you were so close to your freedom, and you could feel it slipping through your fingers.

“shit,” you curse, hiding your face in your hands so you don’t have to take in the shocked look on his face. you feel all the blood in your head rushing south, leaving you lightheaded and overwhelmed.

“you’re the princess?” he clearly has no care for your distress in this moment as he stalks towards you, the poster crumpling in his hand when it curls into a fist. “i’ve been harboring the missing princess in my home?”

“yes?” you mumble into your fingers, letting the despair settle in your traitorous stomach. he lets out a sharp breath through his teeth and you flinch, thoughts swirling.

“do you know what would happen to me if anyone finds out i’ve been keeping you here? prison would be a paradise.” you hear his feet bringing him closer to you, each drop synchronizing with your heart beating in your throat.

“please,” you remove your hands, sniffling when a traitorous tear traces down your face. “don’t send me back. i’ll give you all the money i have, just don’t send me back there.”

“hey,” he soothes, anger melting into concern as he folds to his knees in front of you. “i won’t. i wouldn’t. i just- why didn’t you tell me?”

“i didn’t know if i could trust you, at first,” you stutter out, ignoring the way your heart clenches when his face falls. “and after…there wasn’t a good time.”

“why would you give all that up? a life of luxury, never needing to ask for anything, why would you leave that to spend your days here? don’t you want to marry some prince and live in your castle?”

“i don’t want some prince. i want you,” your voice is wobbly, vision clouded by the tears you won’t let fall, but your intention is clear.

“you can’t just-” he cuts himself off, taking in a sharp breath through his nose. “you can’t want me. i’m nobody.”

“you’re not,” you press, standing until you’re level with him. “don’t you understand? it’s you. you were what i was looking for all this time.”

“but,” he protests, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up from its careful placement. “why me?”

“you’re my home, seungmin. i’ve never felt more safe or more comfortable than i have within these walls.” desperate tears continue to sting at your eyes, and he reaches to wipe them away before he can help himself. your palms move to cup his hands to your face, keeping his warmth there. “you’re the only one who sees me as more than just something they can use, you see me. please don’t send me away.”

“would you be happy here?” he asks, voice trembling. he wants you to stay.

“i’ve been happier these past six days than i’ve been my entire life.”

he surges to kiss you, finally letting your lips touch after days of lingering glances, and it feels like coming home.

you didn’t know if you would go back to the palace, but you knew you had responsibilities that you couldn’t just ignore and that you had to deal with them soon. what you were completely sure of was that, despite the wishes of your family, you won’t marry at all if you aren’t marrying him.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #kim seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff #seungmin x y/n #stray kids x y/n #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fic #seungmin x reader

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xjulixred45x · 5 months

Text

Lotor x Pearl!GN! Reader

Request: Now that the requests are open I want to do one about Voltron (again), about Lotor headcanons with a reader who is like a pearl from Steven Universe, who probably was a "gift" from his governess, I imagine that reader @ is a very scared but sweet person who is afraid of disappointing Lotor and that he will throw them away because of that (traumas from the past before meeting him). I just want some comfort from one of my favorite Voltron characters💕

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Warnings: allusions/mentions of past abuse, reader at first treated more like an object than a person, fear of abandonment, somewhat confusing timeline for the sake of the plot? HURT with Comfort, Fluff, non-canon ending of Voltron for my sanity :') Lotor What have they done to you?

You come from a very... special planet to say the least.

Especially you were born in a social caste that was considered the lowest, so you were trained all your life to be the future accessory of a powerful person. As bad as it sounded.

This was obviously not a pleasant process, especially with the Garla empire breathing down your planet's neck.

You could say that you got especially ruthless training, the slightest mistake was severely reprimanded, only to know that if you did it in REAL practice you most likely wouldn't come out alive...

Then the Garla Empire took possession of your planet. Everyone was terrified of what could happen, YOU were terrified of what was going to happen to you.

But fortunately? You were given as a personal servant to the Garla, along with many others, in exchange for not destroying the planet completely.

But you were lucky enough that it was your turn to serve the Prince of the Garla, Lotor.

This was before the Paladins intervened, so even when they arrived, this still stood.

To say that you were scared was to say, you were terrified of what was going to happen. What if he was one of those super strict princes? What if he had a bad temper? What if he got angry with you and got physical? And If it hurts you? Or worse?

You set out to be as correct and upright as possible for this new position, apparently you would be a gift, well, maybe you don't have to do much, you can do this.

Dayak barely talks to you, although the first time you meet her is only so she can give you a checkup to make sure you live up to her expectations, and fortunately you are and she seems very satisfied.

Before meeting this "Lotor" she gives you a tour of the Garla main ship in a vague way so that you become familiar with everything and thus adapt quickly before seeing Lotor. The ship is GIANT so it takes a while.

Although at least with this you can hear some people talking and whispering about Lotor, apparently the winner of the "Kral Zera", the first Half-Blood emperor and Zarkon's heir...someone to have fear apparently.

Let's just say they didn't make you feel much better.

But at the end of the day you finally meet him. Is he together with what appear to be the paladins of Voltron? And Dayak makes his presence quite noticeable (poor paladin Blue and especially yellow).

Before retiring, Dayak introduced you to Lotor, as his new personal assistant, to serve him in any way he wanted.

To your surprise, Lotor seemed just as off guard as you, it seems that he had forgotten the deal with the Kral Zera matter, it is understandable, but it was especially shocking when he apologized to you because he could not introduce himself properly, since he had a VERY busy day with the Voltron thing...

....weren't you supposed to come help him with that? What Quiznak?

You tried to tell him that, that you could help him manage that, but he said no! That for now he could handle himself well, but that you should give him time to think of something for you...

okay that was VERY strange

But a nice strange? Lotor was not like you thought he would be.

Even when he finally did what he had to do with the Paladins and Princess Allura (love of a person), he still treated you with a respect you weren't used to.

you were mainly in charge of his agenda with the other Garla leaders and works like that, together with the Paladins and Princess Allura, etc. It wasn't a heavy job, but it required attention to detail and you definitely went out of your way to make it perfect.

And contrary to what you thought, you received some recognition from your, so to speak, Boss (because Lotor hated it when you called him "master" or "owner"), Lotor was grateful that you helped him and that you were so diligent, He let you know when he kept you up to date.

You could even have conversations with him! It wasn't something you had been prepared for in the least, but it was nice, Lotor was someone very intelligent and even had an interesting sarcastic sense of humor. You learned a lot by talking to him.

In turn, Lotor learned more about your species based on his experience with you, although at first it was difficult for him, because you insisted on keeping a certain distance, but he was able to make his way through your walls.

He found you quite pleasant and even charming! Lotor always tried to see other species with equal respect, and for you to see him from such a high place (without the need for violence, just doing his job) made him feel very good about himself.

And the feeling was mutual.

It made you feel calmer about all of this, that everything was going better than you thought. You had ended up with an owner--ahem, Boss- who was nicer than you expected and everything seemed fine--

But then you made a MISTAKE.

You were trying to get used to one of the controls on Lotor's main ship and out of nowhere the controls stopped working. They didn't respond, didn't work and seemed glitched.

You realized that you had pressed the wrong places (used to the mothership controls) and that you had "messed up" this one.

But all you could think about was the trouble you'd get into with Lotor.

Oh no oh no oh no What am I going to do? What are they're going to do to me? They're going to have to throw me away, right? How can I get through this? What if they kill me? What if--

You were so panicked that when Lotor arrives you don't notice.

And it only makes you even more afraid.

Lotor asks what happened, but he starts checking the console on his own and realizes what happened, he knows what you did--

And you can't stand the urge to cry anymore.

Lotor honestly freaks out, he thought you would have gotten hurt and that's why you were crying so much, but you were apologizing for breaking the console, and saying that you were fine with being replaced with someone more capable as long as please, please don't kill you...

Even if he didn't show it much on the outside (it's a habit up to this point he's sorry for it), it hurt Lotor to see you like this. And even more so for something so small. Is this why you thought he was going to replace you? Kill you?? Although he sees that it's mostly because you've been traumatized before, so he's not offended (at all).

Lotor tries to calm you down, explain to you that it's not a big deal. It's not broken! It just needs to restart! Please don't cry! He's not going to replace you! Much less touch a hair on your head! You are save with him...

He ends up fixing the console to prove his point and you calm down, something like that, both of your emotions are running high.

From there, you are a little more alert for your possible "mistakes" and honestly, Lotor misses how you were before this little incident, now it seems like you are walking on eggshells (Whatever that means? The blue Paladin said it ) when you are around him.

He discovers that he misses talking to you more than he thought, he is not someone who gets attached easily, but finally having someone who respected him as a person and not as Prince Garla and that you are now in this scared state hurts him.

So it does something... surprising.

He asks the Paladins and Allura for help.

Obviously some make fun of him a little ahem LANCE AND PIDGE ahem, but for the most part they try to give him good advice on how to approach the situation, although they all have a common idea.

TALK IT DIRECTLY or let you adjust naturally again (which seemed unlikely without the former).

So he did it, he call you to speak alone.

Sincerely? You almost died of fright. This on your planet was a VERY BAD omen, VERY BAD.

so imagine your surprise when Lotor was REALLY alone when you went to see him, but you still remained nervous, this man could destroy you with just one arm after all.

But Lotor...just talks.

And he gets straight to the point, he does NOT plan to replace you, he does NOT plan to hurt you, he does not want you to think that you are so expendable, especially when he has come to enjoy your company so much, you can rest assured, mistakes happen, we ALL make them, he prefers that you make them. a thousand mistakes to not having you at all.

Being honest? It was quite nice.

And you were able to be more...at peace with yourself after that. Be the sweet assistant again.

If we talk about advanced terms of a romantic relationship, IT'S PURE FLUFF.

Lotor has shown that he doesn't give a shit about race, so he has no problem relating to you even if you're not even half Garla. What if someone has a problem? They won't have it anymore :)

If your planet is still under the control of the Garla, it is most likely that Lotor has forced them to have laws and a more egalitarian legislature, your people have not lived so well in decapheobes! Of course, there are those who are still not used to it and others who are directly against it, but that always happens.

Lotor is patient when it comes to old wizard habits, chances are you'll still be that way! But more as a consort😅

Get ready, now that it is certain that he loves you and that you love him too, there is no escape from affection. Lotor is aware that he's touch-starved, but when you discover through this that YOU'RE touch-starved TOO, it's like, the perfect mix.

Lotor is the most openly affectionate, which helps you gain some courage to do the same, although of course, when it comes to making the other person nervous, you never win (although Lotor MELT inside seeing you try).

Lots of physical contact!! Especially at events with too many people and where you can easily feel overloaded, it's a quick way to calm yourself down and for Lotor to be happy and calm (literally, if they want to calm him down they have to bring you into the room and he's INSTANTLY in a good mood again).

You have a friendship with Allura! She jokingly says that you're too good for Lotor, but in a loving way.

The Paladins don't understand how Quiznak, someone as sweet as you ended up with Lotor. Did they threaten you? Blink twice if so--

Your nature is now a little more curious, you see everything with new eyes, it is something tender for Lotor, for him most of these things are everyday, but for you it is something new and even unique, it is nice.

He also now handles your crises better when PTSD strikes, takes you somewhere spacious, keeps some distance so you can breathe better, and when you recover he is on you for the rest of the day, quite worried.

In general, Lotor sees his partner with equal respect and love regardless of their race, social status or how they met, he loves you regardless of everything or how you perceive yourself. You are his equal, his partner, nothing changes that.

Reglogs, shares and Comments are very welcome!!

#headcanons #neutral reader #lotor x reader #vld lotor #voltron lotor #lotor #prince lotor #pearl su #voltron #voltron legendary defender x reader #voltron legendary defender #voltron ld

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imababblekat · 2 years

Text

Botw Characters X Sick Reader: HC’s

Anon; “ Hello, I was wonder If you could write about how Sidon, Link, and Revali would react to their crush getting sick. Thank you in advance, have a great day, and don’t forget to drink some water!”

~xXx~

Sidon:

probably the most notably worried out of the three

if Sidon's not there when his s/o is announced ill, then you best bet he'll be rushing his way to their side the second he's done with his royal duties

while his excessive worry is a little irritating to the healers as they try to do their job, they also have to admit how sweet it is that he cares so deeply for his s/o

they'll teach him ways to help take care of his s/o, such as helping them sit up to drink or eat, or when to replace a damp towel with a new one

his s/o promises him its just the flu or something similarly minor, but Sidon can't help to refuse to leave them be

seeing them with such exhausted eyes, disheveled appearance and hearing the raspiness in their voice breaks his heart

whether its a simple cold, or Hylia forbid, something worse, Sidon hates seeing his s/o in such array and only wishes for them to feel better as soon as possible

he knows he's probably being overly concerned, but he feels it's his duty as their partner to do his best to get them back to tip top shape

and if that means having to deal with Muzu's reprimanding for skipping a few meetings that he truly doesn't even need to be at, then so be it

Link:

Link's level of worry depends on the severity of the illness; if it's something serious it'll show on his face and he'll do everything in his power to help his s/o heal

but if it's something such as the common cold, then he'll feel more bad for his s/o then worried as he does what he can to help them get through it

Link doesn't get sick often, but when he does it's no vacation, so he knows that his s/o isn't exactly having the best time of their lives either

he'll go out to forage for shrooms and herbs to help with the fever, cough, you name it, but he's never gone for too long

Link's also very careful to not get himself sick in the process of taking care of his s/o; it's not that he's scared of their germs or anything, he just doesn't want this to be a back and forth thing where they keep getting the other sick

if he's got the time, he'll constantly wash the blankets and towels and whatever else has been used to help his s/o get better, and he also knows how nice it is to always have a fresh set of something when you don't feel so hot

if Link ever has to go out on a mission he can't avoid while his s/o is sick, he'll ask someone he truly trust such as Zelda to look after them until he returns

once he does return, Link is quick to getting back to healing his sick s/o, so that way once they feel better he can make them their favorite food with lots of love

Revali:

this guy comes off as ass about his s/o being sick at that start

he's still not quite used to helping others out in such a way, so when his s/o first comes down with a cold, he's very unsure with how to help

he'll make comments about how being a Rito, his immune system is superior to that of a Hylians so he's never had any need to know how to take care of someone who's "grossly ill"

his s/o just rolls there eyes and makes the decision that, fine, they'll take care of themselves

the second they try to do anything and almost crash to the floor in exhaustion, Revali instantly feels bad and kicks his pride to the curb to actually help his s/o out

will actually go out of his way to learn what treatments work for Hylians, and does his best to get them right

he'll wordlessly offer them something like soup, and his s/o has to refrain from teasing him about how sweet he's being and how they should be sick more often

in truth, they know that Revali cares and it's just that this is new territory for him as well as that the Rito Champion has always shown affection through the form of action rather than words

whether it's Revali placing a cool rag on their forehead or checking in on them when he thinks they're sleeping, his s/o greatly appreciates his effort in taking care of them, and will absolutely tell him this endearingly once they're better

~xXx~

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wisteriadaydreams · 1 year

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Hello! Hope you’re doing well!

I absolutely loved your Tanjiro x Haganezuka’s daughter piece! It was just too cute!

May I request one with Tanjiro x Urokodaki’s daughter? She’d probably be really strong and train with Tanjiro, finally convincing her dad to let her become a Slayer, only to get lectured after accidentally falling on top of him or something because Urokodaki can just smell the puppy love brewing between the both of them!

Sorry, got a little carried away! 💗 Tanjiro is just too cute!

I’m most likely going to come back here, so if it’s alright, I’d love to be your 🌺 Anon! Sending lots of love and good vibes your way!

TANJIRŌ W/ UROKODAKI’S DAUGHTER!READER

pairing: Kamado Tanjirō x fem!reader

genre: angst in the beginning, mention of canonical character death, fluff later on

Words: 7.5k (buckle up ppl, it's a long one)

a/n: I was so excited when I first read this ask! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to it! And yes, you can 100% be 🌺anon (≧▽≦)

Urokodaki and his wife have had a hard time conceiving, and as they grew older, they resigned themselves to accepting that they will not have a child of their own, no matter how much it pained them.

In a way, they had tried to fill the void by adopting and taking in orphaned children, but that doesn’t mean they don’t come to love them any less. Some of them eventually leave to forge their own lives when they become adults, while some decided to follow in Urokodaki’s footsteps and become a Demon Slayer.

Knowing the dangerous nature of the job, he vehemently denied the request, but after seeing the relentlessness and determined nature of his child, he finally relented. When it came time to send his first student off to the Final Selection, he and his wife did so with a heavy heart.

When their child never came home no matter how long they wait, they buried their memories and a piece of their heart at Mount Sagiri.

(Urokodaki would refuse to train anyone else for years to come, but there are always those who managed to convince him otherwise.)

Nevertheless, his household is one that always ring with laughter and joy, a household that sticks together through the hard times, holding each other close and wiping away each other’s tears.

So when you came to this world, it was to a home overflowing with love.

You were their miracle baby, a blessing from the gods, the light that makes their world brighter. When the news was announced, there was not one dry eye in the house. Suddenly, everyone became even more overprotective of your mother when she was pregnant with you, and she had to scold her husband and her children several times for coddling her.

When you came into this world, your brothers and sisters take turns holding you, cooing and feeling their hearts bursting from the sight of your smile.

You grew up in a world like that — protected and loved and never lonely.

They would sneak you sweets and gifts they got from the nearby town, and sometimes those training would let you hold their swords for a moment, at the expense of being reprimanded by Urokodaki. You were spoiled beyond compare.

When your mother was taken by a swift but deadly illness while you were still too young to register death, your family did what they always do — mourn in each other’s arms, and slowly piece everyone back together.

If possible, your father became even more protective of you. He has lost too much. His comrades, his friends, his wife, his students and children. It would break him entirely to lose you, too.

You grew up in a home that protected and love you, but also a home that grieves for the lost souls that will never be able to find their way back. Over the years, you’ve watched all of your father’s apprentices leave the safe embrace of Mt. Sagiri, a sword by their hip, a fox mask by the side of their face, and hope shining in their eyes.

“Otou-san.” You tugged your father’s sleeve. “Where are they going?”

“To hopefully make the world a better place.” “When are they coming back?” “Soon, my daughter. I pray every day that it would be soon.”

Many of them promised you that they will come back and play with you. Many of them broke their promises.

One year, your father rescued two boys, Sabito and Giyū, whose families were both eaten by demons. You immediately took to them, constantly trailing behind them and jumping onto their backs. They in turn dote on you, keeping you company whenever they weren’t training. You would sit on the ground to watch them spar with your father, twirling the grass under your fingers and giggling when they were swiftly disarmed.

You didn’t really understand why they were training. You had an inkling of the demons beyond the safe vicinity of the mountain from the stories your other siblings would tell you, but other than that you couldn’t grasp why they were serious about it.

“Sabito-nii, why are you and Giyū-nii training with father?” You asked him one day.

“Because there’s dangerous creatures out there who would stop at nothing to kill humans, and there are only a select few who could deal with them.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N)-chan, maybe that’s just the way of the world. We’re no matched for the strength of demons, so we must become stronger.” “But why you and Giyū-nii?”

He patted your head softly, a tender but sad look in his eyes. “So that no one would have to go through what we went through.”

Their training continued, progressing from proper breathing lessons to when their blades are suddenly embraced by foamy, cerulean blue waves that twist around one another. Your eyes would shine with delight whenever you catch their fluid movements.

The day comes when both of your brothers have to leave, just like all the other apprentices before them. Your heart sank to the pits of your stomach the night before, making you unable to sleep even a wink. What if they don’t return as well?

The next morning, you stubbornly cling to them, refusing to let go even when your father scolds you.

“But I don’t want you to go!” You exclaimed.

“Come one, (Y/N)-chan. It’ll only be for a little while. Sabito and I will be back before you know it.”

“Promise?” “Promise.”

About a week went by without any sign of them returning, and you’ve never felt so on edge. You started to stand outside diligently to hopefully catch a glimpse that peach shade of Sabito’s hair and the deep blue of Giyū’s eyes, only coming inside when your father urged you.

Finally, one misty morning, you were out pulling weeds in the garden when you spotted a head of thick jet-black hair from up the road. Your eyes widened when you saw the familiar figure trudging down towards the house.

“Otou-san!” You shouted as you ran towards him. “Giyū-nii is home!!!”

You resisted the urge to tackle him into a hug once you saw his fatigued and wounded state. Nevertheless, your heart soared in happiness.

“Giyū-nii! You’re back! Are you hurt anywhere?” Your eyes roam over him, wincing at the amount of dirt on his clothes. But your brother was unresponsive and dazed, even when your father put a hand on his shoulder. Something itched in the back of your mind, and your stomach twisted unexpectedly when you felt like something was not right.

“Giyū-nii,” you began slowly, your eyes darting all over the place. “Where is Sabito-nii?”

His silence was answer enough.

Nothing was ever the same after that. You’re no stranger to lost, but it didn’t stop your heart from cleaving into two and the tears from running down your face at night. Not when a piece of you seems to die every time you’re met with your father’s silent grieving, or heard the sobs from your brother that he so desperately tried to hide.

You were both just children grasping with death.

When it was time for him to leave and officially embark on his journey, it was pouring like they had never seen before. Perhaps that was best. Perhaps then none of them would notice the tears.

Your home became quieter. Still filled with love, but more somber somehow. Laughter came a little harder for you, and each time you watch the sunset, you can’t help but feel your shoulders become heavier, as if the twilight was a corporeal thing that weighed down on you.

For a while, it was only you, your father, and the silence. But that all changed when a little girl around your age stumbled into your lives.

Like many siblings before, Makomo came to your home unexpectedly, and yet it also felt like fate. She lit up the whole house with her gentle smiles and brightness, restoring some of the warmth that have been lost.

You take to her immediately, spending your days braiding flowers into each other’s hair and running through the mountains until you can draw a map with your eyes closed. You felt your soul healing in the presence of her calming demeanor. She became a sister that you could unconditionally trust to always have your back. Imagine your horror when she too was determined to walk down the same treacherous path.

“Makomo-chan! You can’t!” You tearfully protested. “It’s too dangerous!”

‘What if she doesn’t come back?’ The sentence replayed over and over in your head like a broken mantra, and you were once more squeezed by multiple stabs of fear and anxiety. Your father shared the same sentiments as you, and firmly denied her request.

How could he forgive himself if he let someone as young as her entrench herself into such a cruel world.

But Makomo was resilient and stubborn. She would sneak out and practice with a sword and had even somehow been able to grasp the basics of Total Concentration Breathing. When asked, she only smiled mysteriously and told you that she had some help.

When your father saw that his warnings fell on deaf ears and after seeing how much she improved, he finally caved in and took her as his apprentice.

To say that you were unhappy with the decision would be an understatement. You watched her train and become more graceful and quick on her feet, dread pooling in your stomach with every progress and injuryYou and your father hugged her and sent her on her way, and it felt like goodbye. You prayed to any gods that were willing to listen to protect her and bring her back to you.

You stayed by her side, occasionally offering her tips from what you’ve observed from the other students. You bandaged every single wound, lightly chastising her and telling her to be more careful next time. Her only response was to smile and thank you. The more you did this, the more you couldn’t help but wonder about her willingness to put herself on the line to help fight demons, and whether if there’s anything more that you could do.

As you had expected, she passed your father’s final trial. That night, you sleep in the same bed as Makomo, putting your arms around her and pulling her so close that it was difficult to tell where you end and where she began. You didn’t want to let go.

You and your father hugged her and sent her on her way, and it felt like goodbye. You prayed to any gods that were willing to listen to protect her and bring her back to you.

The gods too, did not answer them.

The pain coursed through your body like a beast made of liquid fire, clawing at your insides and erupting from your throat as you cried in your father’s arms. You cried until you became numb, until every muscle in your body feels like it had been crushed by the weight of your grief. Her grave was marked alongside the others. Wherever she was, she held a piece of your soul with her.

It was you, your father, and the silence, once more.

One afternoon, you return from working in the garden to see your father reading a letter, Giyū’s crow perch on his shoulder. Your spirit lifts momentarily, relieved that he is still doing well.

It’s hard to read your father due to the mask he wears, but from the way he grips the paper tightly and crinkling it, it can’t be good news.

“Otou-san, what is it?”

He lifts his head to look at you, then fold the letter and tucking it into his kimono before going back inside. “I need to go for a bit, (Y/N). Stay here, and prepare for some visitors.”

You only manage to blink a few times before he’s out the door again. Even at his age, he is still as fast as a Demon Slayer at their prime. As you prepare the ingredients for dinner, you wonder who the visitor could be.

You get your answer later that day, when your father comes back with a young boy in tow. Your father looked like he didn’t even break a sweat, but the boy trailing behind him seemed as if though he’s fighting for every breath. With a basket strap to his back, you can understand why that’s the case.

“Otou-san, who is this?” “This is Kamado Tanjirō. He’ll be staying with us for the night,” he says simply. “This is my daughter, (Y/N).”

You bow in greeting as he walks through the door. You watch in curiosity as he unwraps the basket, unveiling a sleeping girl tucked inside.

You would have reacted in horror if not for the fact that your father is being so calm about it, but it doesn’t stop you from wondering what’s going on.

“This is my sister, Nezuko. She’s…um…” Tanjirō looks to your father, asking for help.

“We’ll take care of her,” your father says. You quickly catch on and run inside to fetch a pillow and blanket, temporarily laying her on the ground until you can arrange a futon for her. “But for now, you and I will be climbing the mountain.”

With those words, it dawns on you. Here’s another person hoping to become your father’s student and become a Demon Slayer. All of his prospects go through the same process, and climbing the mountain is only the beginning of the trials they will face.

When your father returns, he fills you in on the situation. Your heart drops in sympathy when you hear that their family was killed by demons, and flinch when it’s revealed that the girl sleeping so peacefully near the crackling hearth is a demon.

“Otou-san, how can this be? She seems nothing like the demons you would tell me about.” “You feel it too,don’t you (Y/N)? She’s different from any demon I’ve encountered before. It’s like she’s still human somewhere in that body of hers.”

You look back down at Nezuko. It’s difficult to reconcile the image of blood-thirsty demons that has been instilled into you since childhood. Those that pillaged villages and killed without mercy. Those that…

You clench your hands into fists. It’s definitely difficult, and if both your father and Giyū are willing to put their trust into her, then you can try as well.

The first threads of dawn are beginning to slip through the horizon, and Tanjirō has yet to return from the mountain. You fidget in your seat, your eyes flickering every few minutes to the door, ears train to see if you can pick up the sound of any footsteps. You’re torn between wanting to see him succeed and fail. If he does, then you’re afraid that he’ll become another lamb on its way to slaughter. But if he doesn’t, then which other path can he walk on to restore his sister’s humanity?

In the midst of battling with yourself, your ears perk up at the sound of heavy footsteps. You whip your head to the door the same time your father does, and a second later it slams open to reveal a dirtied and injured Tanjirō, blood flowing from his head and shoulder.

“I’m…back…” He pants and is only able to utter before he collapses by the door frame. You rush to his side, preparing to carry him inside and treat his wounds. You look to your father, who stands stoic and in silent contemplation. You know that he has made his decision.

Every early morning, even before the sun rises, your father and Tanjirō would make their way up the mountain to begin their training. You would look after the still slumbering Nezuko, and then bring lunch to wherever they are. After having lunch with them, you would stay for a while to watch them train. In the evenings, you would take care of any injuries Tanjirō incurred throughout the day.

Your talks with him are often short, something to fill in the silence while you bandage him up. You’re grateful that he isn’t the type to pry, and instead is content with letting the conversation flow wherever it may. Your heart is still healing, and you’ve yet to recover the strength to open those scars again.

But the more time you spend around him, the more you realize that it’s terrifyingly easy to put your guard down around him. It’s like he has a soothing and warming aura radiating from him, causing you to unable to resist melting in his presence. It feels both familiar and so wildly foreign to you, that at times you’re unsure how to act around him.

Your father is harsher on Tanjirō than with any of his other students, and you can understand why. His improvement is gradual, and it’s clear that he doesn’t have the raw talent that Sabito and Makomo had. But what he lacked in talent, he made it up with determination.

Even on what is supposed to be his rest days, he would be out swinging his sword and working on his breathing. During those times, you would make sure that he’s eating and not neglecting yourself.

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say as you watch him try to master Total Concentration Breathing. “You have to be more subtle about it. Here, close your eyes.” You stand up and approach him. “Try to imagine the air as water. Let it enter you.” You close your eyes and breathe along with him. “Imagine it moving through every part of you.” You trail your fingers down his arms. “Feel it in every cell and vein, feel it touch you and flow around you. See the difference?”

“I-I think so.” You open your eyes to smile, and that’s when you realized that his hands are now clasped tightly in yours, and the distance between you two is too close for comfort.

You drop his hands like they’re hot coals, a blush quickly rising to your cheeks. “Sorry!”

“N-no, it’s okay.” As opposed to your worryingly flaming face, his cheeks only had a tinge of pink. “But thank you, (Y/N)-san! I understand now.”

“It’s-it’s nothing. Just something I picked up while watching others train.” “Just from watching? That’s amazing! I’m surprised you’re not training already. You would leave me in the dust.”

“…You think so?” “I know so. Just last week you helped me with my stance and how to properly swing my sword. And you seem to already know how to do Total Concentration Breathing.” He pauses and begins his next sentence tentatively. “Sorry if this is rude of me, but I’m just wondering why you haven’t become Urokodaki-san’s student yet.”

You tilt your head, giving thought to his question. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I guess it’s partly because I know how it feels to be the person on the other side. I don’t think I could bear putting my father through having to worry about me like that. But at the same time, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it before. I don’t know though…”

Can you do it? Can you actually take up a sword and leave everything behind? Knowing that you're risking everything and never come back?

But…maybe then you can go and explore beyond the mountain. Maybe you can help other families sleep better at night. Children won’t have to look behind their back in fear of things creeping in the dark. No one would have to go through what you went through.

“Well, whatever you decide.” Tanjirō pats your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe it’ll be the right decision.”

“No.”

You’ve expected this response from your father, but it didn’t cause you to flinch any less. “But otou-san–”

“No means no, (Y/N). I will not allow you to become a Demon Slayer.” “But I’ve been watching you teach for years! I know how to do Total Concentration Breathing, and I basically know all the stances by heart. If only you would let me try, then I know I can master them!” “And you know perfectly well how dangerous is it.”

“Of course I know!” You can’t help but raise your voice a little. “And how many more have to lose their lives? I’m sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing, waiting for the next bad news. I want to do something to help!” “And you’re already doing that by staying here and being safe.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be coddled and safe anymore!” Your chest heaves and you turn around, unable to bear looking at his masked face any longer. “I just wish you would believe in your daughter a little more.” With that, you walk out the door, ignoring the words of your father.

Your legs take you to the huge frothing waterfall a distance away from your house, a favorite place of yours when you want some peace and quiet. It’s just you and the sound of rushing water to drown out your thoughts. Or so you thought.

“(Y/N)-san.” Your soul nearly left your body. You wildly turn around to see that Tanjirō had followed you.

“Tanjirō-san! You scared me to death! How did you even find me?” He taps his nose and that’s all you needed to know. “…Right. Well, you’re welcome to sit next to me, since you’re here already.”

He takes your invitation. “I just want to know how you’re doing.” You hug your knees to your chest and sigh. “Thanks. Sorry you had to hear that, by the way. I understand where my father’s coming from, I really do. But at the same time, I can’t help but think he thinks I’m not enough in his eyes, like I’m still a baby that needs to be cocooned. But I’ve been by the sidelines for so long, always watching and worrying and feeling useless. If I have the ability to, I should stand up and do something. Shouldn’t I?”

“Hey.” Tanjirō places a warm hand on your shoulder. “You’re not useless. You take care of the whole household. You cook for us and remind us to take a break. You give me advice, encouragement, and always take care of me when I get injured. I think you’re already incredible as you are. But if you believe you can do something more, then I say go for it! I’ll support you!”

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide in wonder at his words. He nods, and you know it to be true. You feel your fingertips become tingly, and all the water in this world could not wash away the bubble of warmth in your body. “Thank you.”

You scoot a little closer to him, content to be in his presence. Nothing needed to be said that isn’t already felt in the blank spaces of your words.

When you return, your father is waiting for you, his arms crossed. You gulp, knowing that you’re in big trouble, but you stand your ground anyways.

“Tanjirō, go inside. I need to speak to my daughter privately.” “Yes, Urokodaki-san.” He gives you an encouraging look and heads inside, leaving you and your father alone. The tension is so thick you can cut through it with a sword, and your foot fidgets in anticipation of who will be speaking first.

“I made a promise to your mother,” your father begins, and that makes everything you’re going to say go back down your throat. “That I would keep you safe, and make sure no harm comes to you.”

You hang your head, that familiar wisp of sadness creeping up on you. Over the years, you’ve heard many stories about your mother, wanting to know everything about her to fill in the gaps of your memories, selfishly clinging to the last vestiges of her presence that you can remember.

“But I’ve also made another promise to her, that I’ll always make you happy,” he continues. “And if this is truly the path you want to take, then I’ll fulfill your wish.” You whip your head up at his words, surprise overtaking your face. “But just because you’re my daughter doesn’t mean I'll go easy on you, do you understand? If at any point I deem you not suitable, I’ll pull you from training.”

“Yes, otou-san!” “Good, then be up by 4 am tomorrow.”

If he’s already hard on Tanjirō, then he’s hard on you 10 times over. If Tanjirō has to swing his sword 1000 times, you have to do it 2000 times. If he only has to descend the mountain 2 times, you have to do it 5 times. If he has to stay under the waterfall for 5 minutes, you have to do it for 15. But you take it all in stride, finally being able to find an outlet for your pent up energy over the years.

You and Tanjirō becomes closer due to this, bonding over your shared misfortune of being tortured mentored by the former Water Hashira. One some days you would spar with him, eager to see how much you’ve improved.

Today, you’ve managed to disarm him and goes through the motion to pin him to the ground, but a miscalculation quickly cause you to lose your balance. Before you know it, you let out a yelp and is dragged to the ground with him. You brace for impact, but your fall is broken by a soft weight below you. That weight being of course no one else but your sparring partner.

You open your eyes and is mortified to see Tanjirō staring back at you, your noses almost touching one another. From this proximity, you’re able to see the closer the soft gradient of his dark maroon eyes, like embers blazing in the hearth. Your body is pressed against his, his arms settled lightly at your waist no doubt to soften your fall. Your eyes unconsciously travel down to his lips for a brief moment, but enough for you to begin scolding yourself incessantly for the intrusive thought that runs through your mind.

“Kamado Tanjirō!” Your father’s voice booms through the field. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You and him immediately scramble away from one another, faces so red that even a ripe tomato would be jealous. Your father stares down at the both of you, the silence even more unbearable with the menacing aura radiating from him.

“1000 sword swings from you, Tanjirō. And you, (Y/N), I’m going to properly teach you how to stay on your feet.”

You both shiver, the calm way he said it making it sound even more cold to your ears. “Y-yes sir.”

6 months go by, and Nezuko have yet to wake up. Even when the doctor assures that there’s nothing wrong with her, you still can’t help but worry about her. 6 months go by, and your father declare that he has nothing more to teach you.

You and Tanjirō look at each other with surprise. While you know what’s coming next, you’re astonished when instead of leading you up to the mountain towards a boulder like Tanjirō, your father leads you to the waterfall where you’ve spent countless days training.

You look to your father for answers, but he is quiet against the mighty rush of the water.

“This will be your final task. With your sword, part this waterfall in half. Do this, and I will allow you to attend the Final Selection.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at what he said. Water in its essence is fluid and flexible, capable of taking any shape or form. It flows wherever it wants, unyielding to the obstacles in its way. How could you hope to conquer it with your blade?

“Otou-san! But–” “Prove yourself to me, my daughter.” With that, he turns around and leave without another word, no matter how many times you shout and urge him.

True to his words, he did not teach you or give you any more explanation. The first time you attempt to do what he wanted, all you got back was a mouthful of foamy water. You’re hit with the realization of how much you still have to learn. For the first 6 months, you devote yourself to honing your knowledge and fortifying your previous training. You work until you feel your arms fall off every night, until all the breathing forms are engraved into your very bones. And still, you make no progress.

There are days when you feel worthless, and the last thing you want to do is hold a sword. During those times, you resign yourself to sit by the river, skipping stones and filling your mind with questions and memories. You wonder how Tanjirō’s doing. Has he made any progress with the boulder yet? You can’t help but miss him. You’ve only realized how much time you spend with him once you’re apart. You miss having him there to encourage you when the training becomes too much, miss laughing whenever both of you would end up on the ground, tired beyond belief. Miss eating meals with him and sharing happier stories about your childhood. Miss tucking him into bed and sitting by him in this very spot even on nights when you’re both yawning.

Your father has forbidden you to go see him to allow both of you to focus on your task, but what’s the harm in one little peek? You know the way by heart, and soon you arrive at that familiar clearing. As you’ve expected, he’s already hard at work, but the person he’s fighting makes your blood turn cold.

You would recognize that peach shade anywhere. You see it every day in the sunset. You open your mouth, but no words leave them. You’re frozen, unable to do anything but watch as Tanjirō and your (dead) brother encircle each other. Blood rushes to your head and you feel like you might faint. Your vision becomes blurry, the dance of their swords become streaks of light. You brace against a tree, and out of the corner of your eyes you see another sight that makes your world tumble and your heart to lurch into your throat.

“...Ma...komo?”

Her smile is as gentle as you remember it. Everything about her is just as you remember it, like a pristine memory come to life. She nods at you and gestures for you to follow her deeper into the woods. Against all reason (of which you have none at this moment), you follow her drowsily. This has to be a dream. You’ve hit your head while making your ascent and now you’re dreaming. This has to be the only reason.

But then she leads to a spot so familiar to the both of you, and for the first time since you’ve seen her you have to wonder if you’re not actually hallucinating. She turns, and her voice is just as you remember it. “Hi, (Y/N)-chan.”

Gods, you feel like throwing up.

“Makomo...how...? How?” You’re only able to mutter. She sits you down and explain everything, about how she’s tied to this mountain, and how countless students before her have also found their way back here.

“So the person who helped train you...” “Was Sabito, yes.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted to, I really did. But Sabito wanted me to focus on my training. And...he didn’t want to stop you and Urokodaki-san from moving on.”

You twist your hands into the grass, sorrow coiling tightly around your stomach. “So...I’m guessing that Sabito-nii is helping Tanjirō grow stronger.” “He is. Tanjirō has a lot of potential, he just has to learn how to unlock it. As do you. We’re all so happy when you began training, you know. You’ve become so strong.” “But not strong enough to finish my father’s trial.”

Makomo sits pensively. “Maybe you’re approaching it the wrong way. Remember what Urokodaki-san told us when we were learning the forms?” “Become one with the water. Do not resist its flow. Embrace it, and it will answer your call.” “I think that’s something to think about.”

You let her words sink into you. “Okay, I’ll give it some thought.” Makomo stands up. “It’s time for me to go back. But (Y/N)-chan, I must ask you a favor. Can you keep the truth from Tanjirō? We don’t want him to be distracted from his progress.”

“But can I see you again?” She shakes her head. “No, (Y/N)-chan. You must also focus on your own self. But know this. We are all watching you, and we will always be by your side.” “...Then this is goodbye.” “Only for now, we will meet again.”

“Tell Sabito-nii I still think of him. That every time I make mushroom nabe I would still remember him, and that there will be a day when I watch the sunset and feel happy.” “I will.” “Goodbye, dear sister.”

A few more months pass, and despite Makomo’s advice, you have still yet to put her words to good use, no matter how much you’ve tried. But you can’t give up now, not when you know you have everyone’s trust in you.

It is near the hour of twilight, and you’re sitting on a rock underneath the waterfall, letting the waves pour down on you. Your eyes are closed, and all the sounds of the world are lost on you. You tune out the sensations of your body, your heart, your mind, every muscle and vein, until they’re nothing but water. You slowly rise to your feet and lift your sword, but instead of resisting, you succumb to the weight. You let it guide you, trusting it to show you the way. It answers your call. You swing.

You open your eyes, and your jaw drops. The current of the waterfall is perfectly split into two, the resulting drops of water flying from your blade like bejeweled dew against a backdrop of pink that extends its darkening arms toward the golden sunset. Entranced by the sight, you only notice your father and Tanjirō when they’re by your side. Tanjirō’s eyes are as wide with wonder as yours, while your father is hard to read as ever.

“I had no intention of sending you or Tanjirō to the Final Selection,” he finally says. “I could not bear to lose any more of my students, nor can I bear to lose my only daughter. But you’ve surpassed all of my expectations. Perhaps it’s time for me to realize you’re not that same little girl who would cling to me anymore.” He takes you into his arms, and no matter what he says, you’ll always feel like a little girl when you hug him. “You’ve become so strong, my daughter.”

That night, you’re barely able to sleep, and even though you should be sick of the waterfall at this point, you can’t help but sneak out to it one more time. It’s not long until you hear a pair of familiar footsteps joining you.

“Hey Tanjirō-kun. Can’t sleep?” “Yeah, I can’t help but feel anxious about tomorrow.” “Me too. Congratulations on completing father’s final challenge, by the way.” “That’s nothing compared to you. You were incredible! How did you do that?” You blush at the compliment. “I had some help.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, the action as normal as breathing. “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together.” You nod. “Together."

What makes Tanjirō so different to you? Why do you feel so drawn to him? Why does your heart sing when he is near? When did your eyes come to search for him, and why do you crave for these moments like they’re the air that you need to breathe? In the back of your mind, you think you have the answer, but you’ll have all the time in the world to decipher it.

You lift your head and stand up, extending your hand to him. “Come on, let’s go back.”

He slides his hand into yours, and it feels right.

The next morning, you and him are all packed and prepared. You never thought you would be the one on the other side, a sword by your hip and your father’s fox mask by the side of your face, saying a bittersweet goodbye to him.

Just before you two leave, Tanjirō turn back one more time, mentioning Sabito and Makomo in his farewell. You wince, and you can only imagine what your father’s reaction was.

“How come you’ve never mentioned them?” “...You’ve never asked.”

Thankfully, he didn’t pry anymore into the subject, and your journey to Mount Fujikasane is smooth. You’re amazed at the sight of the wisteria blossoms before you, so abundant that it falls like rain. You arrive at the main area, and after hearing the rules, the actual challenge begins.

You and Tanjirō agree that it would be best to head east in order to receive sunlight the quickest. Along the way, you encounter two demons, both of whom you two quickly dealt with. You watch as he prays over the disintegrating corpses, and at times like these you have to wonder how he manages to remain so kind when he has been broken by this world.

You proceed, when suddenly Tanjirō stops you in your path, holding his nose as if he smelled something foul. A scream from the darkness sends chills down your spine. The next thing you see fills you with horror. A demon far too big and monstrous to be considered befitting the level of an amateur slayer trudges through the forest, each of its heavy footsteps thrumming in your ears. Each of its limbs are veiny and as huge as your entire body, twisting and coiling around it like mangled flesh. You can barely make out where its main body is, let alone its neck.

It holds a dead man in one of its horrific hands, devouring him in one motion. Bile rises to your throat at the sight, and you feel your legs tremble and rooted deep to the ground. The demon seizes another man with its extended arm, your breath quickening when it opens its gaping mouth. Fortunately, Tanjirō recovered before you, and rush out to slice its arms with the second form of Water Breathing. You snap out of your fear only a second later, even out your breathing and sprint out to push the man behind you, your swords drawn alongside Tanjirō.

The demon becomes incensed when it spots your fox mask and rages as it curses your father’s name over and over. You listen in horror when it reveals how many humans it has eaten, but that is nothing compared to the fire burning in your blood when he says how many of your father’s students it has devoured.

Thirteen. Thirteen of your brothers and sisters. Thirteen souls that will never come home. Thirteen names that you can recite in your sleep.

The fire blazes into a vengeful inferno when you hear it describes the deaths of Sabito and Makomo with glee, as if they’re as trivial as bugs. As if there are not still those who mourn for them.

You advance with rage and with only one working thought in your mind. Kill.

The demon is even more amused at your reaction, and to your dismay no matter how many arms you and Tanjirō cut down, more would just grow back. One of them lands a hit on Tanjirō, sending him flying and hitting a tree.

“Tanjirō-kun!” You shout, your heart dropping at the blood on his forehead and his unconscious state. You’re left to fend the demon by yourself.

“Control your breathing, (Y/N)-chan. Do not worry about us, focus on saving Tanjirō.” You hear Makomo’s voice inside your head, and only then did you realize how you’ve essentially forgone every lesson your father has drilled into you. You quickly chastise yourself and regulate your breathing, standing your ground and working to divert the demon away from the unconscious boy.

“Tanjirō-kun! Wake up! Please, I need you!” You exclaim as you sliced another limb, your muscles starting to ache from how many times you’ve done so. You couldn’t severe every one of them all alone, and to your terror one of them escaped your attention and is targeting right at him. “Tanjirō!”

As if answering your prayers, he finally opens his eyes and move out the way. But you’re barely able to let out a sigh of relief before more come at you. You dodge and run to his side, your sword brandished and held tight, face-to-face with the enemy. You spare a quick glance to Tanjirō, both of you nodding.

“Together?” “Together.”

You advance, cutting down any obstacle standing in your way. At a warning shout from Tanjirō, you both leap in the air to avoid the arms underground. A limb lashes out to grab Tanjirō, but he’s able to utilizes that hard head of his. You both land on the arm, ready to execute the final attack.

“Tanjirō-kun, I’ll take care of its arms! You aim for the neck!” You carry out the Fourth Form and destroys anything blocking his path, and in a fast flurry of the First Form, it is done.

He is no more.

When there is finally time to rest and you’re done taking care of his forehead injury, you’re left to grasp with the ugly truth displayed right before your very eyes. So many lives lost, all of it fueled by hatred so deep that it makes your heart sinks. What would your father think when he realizes that a small decision of his may have led to his students’ demise?

“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth,” you whisper as you rest under the shade of a tree. Tanjirō turns away from you, and the action makes your stomach twist. He is silent for a moment before speaking. “It’s not your fault. To be honest, I had my suspicions, but I didn’t want to face them and realize that they’re true.” Another pause. “Do you think they’re at peace now?”

You grip your kimono where your heart rests. “Yeah. Yeah, I think they are.” You don’t lie about this, you feel your soul getting lighter.

“Will you tell me about them?” “Later,” you shuffle next to him, curling into his warmth as your eyes become heavy. “I promise.”

You spend your mornings like this, sleeping after a long, arduous night. Moving ever closer until you two fit like puzzle pieces, hands gripped tight in search of the other’s warmth, a confirmation that you both are still alive.

Against all odds, you both survived the 7 days.

Drained of all energy and adrenaline, the trek back home is just as taxing for your weary bodies. You support each other by lifting the other by the shoulder, praying with every step that you’ll soon see that thatched roof that you call home.

Your journey comes to an end when you see the light from that lone house near the mountain. Your shoulders sag in relief, and you would have buckled if not for Tanjirō’s arm around you. Suddenly, the door is kicked down, and out comes the girl that you’ve only ever seen in deep slumber. She looks even more beautiful under the moonlight, and you gasp at the recognition in her still human eyes.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirō rushes down to meet his sister, and at the halfway point she cradles his head into her chest, so gentle that it makes tears well up in your eyes.

You spot your father, his arms full of firewood, and a tired smile makes its way up your face. “Otou-san...”

Uncaring about the wood he just dropped by his feet, he pulls all of you (his children) close, and there is no stopping the torrent of tears from flowing down all of your cheeks.

“You’ve survived. You’ve come back to us.”

The days that followed allow you to recuperate and come to terms with what you have learned at the Final Selection. You all devote an entire day to clean and make offerings to the graves of those that are gone and spend the entire night reminiscing your memories about them.

It also allows you to bond with Nezuko, and once again you’re convicted to help Tanjirō find a way to turn her back into a human.

But those halcyon days are short-lived, and after receiving your Nichirin sword, uniform, and first joint mission, it’s finally time to leave.

("That’s a gorgeous shade of blue, huh Urokodaki?” “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”)

You stand on the other side, hugging your father and promising that no matter what, you will come back to him. This is a promise that you intend to keep. He fixes your uniforms, his fingers lingering as if he’s still not ready to let go.

“Take care of her, Tanjirō,” he says, and unexpectedly pulls him closer so that he could whisper something. You don’t know what he said, but whatever it was, Tanjirō becomes deathly pale and shivers uncontrollably. You look at them curiously, but none of them would meet your gaze.

Finally, you take your first few steps down that dirt path, sparing one final look at your world and everything you’ve ever known. But you’re not afraid, for you have Tanjirō by your side.

“We’re in this together.”

“There’s no one else I would rather do this with.”

➺ All of the following works belong to me. Please don’t repost, copy, or steal my content off of Tumblr. Plagiarism will not be tolerated.

#kamado tanjiro #tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x y/n #tanjiro headcanons #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #sunshine of my life #he's my sun #a dream come true #wisty writes

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xdaddysprincessxx · 4 months

Text

💚❤️Happily Ever After 💚❤️

Cowboy Joel Miller x f reader

Surprise! @frannyzooey I’m your @pedrostories Secret Santa!! I was so excited to write this for you! You said you liked modern and western au’s so here’s a fluffy modern western!(: this is the fluffiest fic I’ve ever written so I really hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, p in v (use contraception my dudes), 1 time jump, 1 flashback, bondage with Christmas lights, 1 use of spit as lube, alcohol (reader drinks 1 beer), reader is described as having tits and ass, 1 use of gagging with panties, use of ‘daddy’ , anal fingering, pussy eating, breeding kink, pregnancy, marriage, I believe this is everything if I missed any let me know! ❤️💚❤️

Words: 2,334

Las Vegas, Nevada

December 7, 2022

Wrangler National Finals Rodeo

The noise inside the stadium is almost deafening as the last bull rider lasts longer than eight seconds on a bull named Bodacious who’s well known for injuring riders. Everyone expected to see the Joel Miller get bucked off quick and probably end up with several severe injuries. So to watch that man beat the record for staying on the longest on what’s probably the most dangerous bull in America is the greatest spectacle any one could’ve witnessed. You’re not surprised though. Your husband has been one of the best cowboys in the nation for a while now. The two of you met when he moved to your town a few years ago and started practicing on your dads ranch. You’ll never forget that afternoon when you first laid eyes on him. You had been looking for your dad and had walked out of the stables only to find a very handsome stranger brushing your Appaloosa horse named Whiskey. Poor Joel never stood a chance, you had him wrapped around your pinky finger from the very first ‘Well howdy cowboy’.

You watch Joel walk back to the sidelines in the arena and your quick to down the rest of your beer and head down to the stables to surprise him.

Mid afternoon in the Nevada heat. Nothing but peace and quiet, laying out by the pond under the shade of a few trees. Nobody else around for miles, just you and Joel. The sun warming your body as you lay back on the soft quilt covering the ground as Joel peppers soft, sweet kisses down your body as he makes his way to that sweet haven between your legs. The way he pulls the most delicious sounds out of you as he brings you to orgasm again and again before he makes his way back up your body and fills you to the brim with his thick cock. Your lips on his as he thrusts deeply into you over and over. Joel grabs your hands, threading his fingers with yours as he holds them above your head.

“I love you Joel” you whisper softly into his lips before falling apart on his cock.

His gorgeous brown eyes widen as he takes the beautiful sight of you in, “I love you darlin’. I love you so damn much.”

Music is playing through the speakers and the roar of the crowd is dimmed as you make your way down to the stables. You made sure to wear your favorite pair of blue jeans that make your ass look sensational. Paired with a green plaid button up with the top three buttons undone with a push up bra on so your tits look fantastic. Standing in the far back corner you hide behind a stall wall as you hear a few voices approach.

“You did great out there man! I couldn’t be proud of you Joel, that is what’s it all about man!” You hear your daddy say

“I wouldn’t be half the man I am without you sir. You know I appreciate everything you do for me.” Joel responds as both men lean in to each other for a one armed hug and a pat on the back.

You can hear footsteps move away but before you move out from behind the wall, you feel a big hand grab your hip from behind.

You yelp as something pulls you back. Covering your mouth with your hand, eyes wide as you see it’s just Joel.

“Joel! You scared me! I was trying to surprise you!” You reprimand him as you swat at his chest. He just smiles real big as he grabs you by the hips and pulls you into him.

“You’re so cute when you get all flustered darlin’. I can’t help myself”

All you can do is smile back at him as you reach up and clasp your hands together behind his neck, getting up on your tip toes to press your lips into his. You smile into the kiss as he kisses you back. Letting him take control and deepening it as he swipes his tongue across your lip. You open up for him as your tongue meets his and you both begin to explore each others mouths. His spiced, woodsy musk filling your nostrils, you can already feel your panties growing damp with your slick.

“Ahem” a man clearing his throat, jolting you away from Joel, embarrassed you’ve been caught yet again, “Mrs Miller I hate to interrupt but Ima need Joel to come with me now for the awards ceremony.”

You and your husband’s embarrassment subsides as you both let out a chuckle. Joel leans forward and softly presses his lips against your forehead before walking away with his assistant, Jake.

Later that night. . .

Christmas lights twinkle in your bedroom as Joel ties you up. Laying on your back, your knees pushed into your chest as he ties the lights around your arms and wrist to your legs, keeping you spread wide open for him. You can’t help but moan around your panties he’s gagged you with. Watching him tie you up, his fingers working fast. The both of you naked as the day you were born.

Joel stands up next to the bed, admiring his work as he starts stroking his cock, “You look so fucking beautiful baby, all mine too.” He says as he begins to kneel on the bed in front of you. Joel takes his cock and drags the tip from your clit down to your entrance. He does this a few times, gathering your slick on his cock before gently pushing just the tip inside of you.

Joel is mesmerized as he watches your tight cunt bloom open for him. Still holding his cock, he slowly pulls back out and swirls the head around your hole before slowly pushing the tip back in.

“Goddamn darlin you look so beautiful taking me. I’m the luckiest bastard alive.”

He dips his head slightly forward and spits on your cunt. Your eyes wide as you watch it drop down. His saliva lands on your clit, sliding down to join the wet mess you’ve made. You let out a muffled moan.

Joel groans before using his cock to spread his spit up and down your slit a couple of times before pushing back into you. This time feeding you more of his cock before pulling out once again. You’re so turned on his teasing starts to hurt in the most delicious way, you can’t help but let out a whine.

Joel makes a clicking noise with his teeth, “ now baby I hope that wasn’t a whine I just heard. You know I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt good. Ya gotta have a little patience sweetheart, let daddy play with ya first.”

You begin to whine again and it turns into a moan as he pushes back into you, going all the way to the hilt. His thick cock feels so deep inside of you, your breath caught in your throat.

“Fuck darlin oh shit you feel so good” Joel moans out as he throbs his cock inside of you. He leans forward, one of his arms snakes under your neck while the other arm wraps over the top of your head, his chest on yours as he reaches up and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. He moves his face down yours to rest his forehead against your forehead. His nose moving down your nose. His soft brown eyes boring into yours as he starts to thrust softly. The two of you looking deeply into each others eyes as he slowly rocks into you. Shallow breaths taken, Joel’s eyes close shut as he thrust in real deep and grinds into you before pulling all the way out. You feel so empty without him as he sits back on his legs. He takes his finger and dips into you before trailing the same finger down to your puckered hole.

“Mm so fucking pretty baby. My pretty baby.” He whispers, looking absolutely captivated by you as he starts to sink his finger into your asshole. Once he gets down to the first knuckle, he wiggles his finger gently inside of your hole. He brings his other hand to your pussy and begins to rub circles around your clit with his thumb as he gently begins to finger your asshole. Joel brings his face down and starts licking wide stripes up your cunt as he continues to finger your ass. The feeling of having him in there while he shoves his tongue inside your pussy and continues to rub your clit has you on an extreme edge. Everything in your body is lit, you feel yourself going higher and higher. Joel must’ve noticed and starts moving faster. It’s all too much, you practically black out, drool running down your chin from being gagged, your eyes rolled back as you scream as loud as you can as you cum hard from his ministrations. Your juices just flow from you as he continues to drink as if he’s been lost in the desert for a year and you’ve gifted him water. Your legs shaking, Joel can feel your legs try to close around his head. He pulls his finger out as he gives your clit a kiss before getting back up. He’s painfully hard but he knows he has to cum inside of you. He already made you his when y’all got married but to get you pregnant? Watch your belly grow round with his child? Now that scratches the deepest itch he has. Everyone would know your his without any doubt then. They would know you are his. Body, mind and soul. He unties the lights and throws them on the ground and pulls your panties out of your mouth. You reach up and kiss him, your tongue darting into his mouth. Breaking the kiss, Joel grabs your hips and flips you on your stomach,

“Come here baby I need to feel this sweet cunt creaming on my cock.”

Your face is smashed into the bed as you feel Joel lift you hips up causing your ass to stick up in the air. Before you can even take a full breath, Joel thrusts his cock inside you knocking the breath right out of you. Your whole body lit ablaze with euphoric pleasure. He gives you no time to adjust before he starts pounding the absolute life out of you. His thick cock head punching up into your guts, kissing your cervix. The way he fills you completely, your pussy stretched around him and all you can do is lay there and take every punishing shove of his cock. Still reeling from your orgasm, it doesn’t take long before your already feeling another orgasm approaching.

“Oh fuck honey, yea that’s it baby goddamn this pussy is good to me. My pretty little wife being such a dirty little whore all for her husband.”

Joel is never shy in the bedroom, always vocal, praising you for how good you feel and how good you make him feel. His moans are starting to turn into deep guttural groans and you know he’s close. Something about making this man, the love of your life, lose all inhibitions all because of you has you rolling to your peak.

“Oh god oh god Joel oh I’m coming! I’m coming!” You manage to scream out as white hot, blinding pleasure encapsulates your whole being.

“Fuck yes honey that’s it! Oh fuck I can feel you squeezing the life outta my cock baby ngh o-oh fuck baby let me make you a mama, please. Please baby. I wanna see those sweet tits grow and your belly grow with my seed. Oh god baby nngh f-fuck!”

“Oh god yes baby! Do it! Cum inside me Joel!”

You barely have the first syllable of his name out of your mouth before his hot cum is shooting out deep inside you, coating your walls.

Next December. . .

You stand next to the Christmas tree in front of the window, looking out on your little piece of land you and Joel built your house on. Feeling absolute peace and serenity, your hand resting on your big belly. Joel was not joking when he said he wanted to make you a mama. It took a few tries but he did it. You’re 8 months pregnant with a sweet baby boy on the way. You’ll never forget when you found out. Couldn’t hold any food down, you seemed to smell everything in high def. You had an little inkling that you were pregnant. But then you took a test and saw those two pink lines. The most joyous feeling washing over you. Of course you took ten more tests just to be 100% sure. That day Joel walked in the side door that leads into the kitchen, you were already jumping into his arms before he could even reach down and take his boots off and accidentally knocked his cowboy hat off his head. The both of you falling into a little fit of giggles as you press your lips into his. Giving him a sweet kiss after sweet kiss before jumping down and grabbing his hands in yours as you led him into the living room where you had a little gift waiting for him.

Soon you feel your husbands big warm arms wrap around you. His chest against your back as he rests his cheek against your head.

“Whatcha thinking about darlin’?”

“Oh nothing honey just thinking about how lucky I am. How I can’t wait to watch our babies grow and run around and play.”

Joel doesn’t respond but you can feel the smile on his lips before he softly presses a kiss to your temple. The two of you continue to stay in this warm embrace as you look out the window, imaging your future.

A/n: I hope you enjoyed! I made the moodboard and I also made a lil playlist of country songs to get the vibes going. Merry Christmas & happy holidays my sweets! ❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fic #fluff #fluff fic #merry christmas #Spotify

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