#they're back my family is back this is the best moment of my life

[etherealily]

𝕓𝕦𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤 // 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗱𝗮𝗶𝗿.

Finnick Odair + fem!reader, brother's best friend (ahhh!), you don't get it, i love this man

Warning: Cuss words .

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Finnick makes quite an impression.

"Hey, what's up, man, if you could just pack up- oh."

You don't even have to turn to know just who in the hell was standing in front of the window of your family's bakery. And this is the one day you decide not to care about how frosting-splattered your apron is, how flour-smeared your hands are. So your brother wasn't lying. He really was all buddy-buddy with Finnick fucking Odair. And this was the one Thursday you decide to actually fill in for him.

"Uh, be right out, sir."

Sir? Sir? Did you really just call him Sir? Well, I mean, yeah, he's a customer, but still... sir? That's too fake. He's going to wig out, he's going to-

"Of course. Take your time. I'm in no rush."

-Be uncharacteristically patient. Hm. Weird. Odd.

Quickly patting off the flour on your hands and watching the flakes fall onto the counter, you wipe your palms roughly on your apron, turning around.

His eyes are fucking ethereal. It's everything you can do to not immediately think of how you would go about replicating the sea-green of them into a frosting colour, or something. However, you decide, it'd be very hard, seeing as there were a kaleidoscope of other hues in there, a tinge of gold, here and there, like flecks of stardust, for one.

The muscles at the front of his arms - across his chest, as he stands - clench, as though he's tightening them. And then you realise : he's waiting.

"So sorry for the wait. How can I help you?"

"Who are you?"

What ?

"Excuse me?"

"Not interrogating you.", he informs you, raising a hand to cut you short. The fucking audacity . "Never seen you before."

"Well, you're seeing me now."

"How do I know you're not just someone stealing from the store?", he inquires, in mock concern. His eyebrows raise just slightly, playfully, even, as he trains his eyes on yours.

Does he also think about how he can replicate the colours in other people's eyes, or is he normal?

"Uh, I've got a key , for one.", you retort, jiggling the keys that you've shoved deep into your apron's pocket.

He shrugs, interlocking his fingers tightly as he cracks his knuckles, tilting his head. "Could be stolen."

"I'm the owner's daughter, Y/N ?"

"Insufficient proof of that.", he shoots back, teeth grazing ever so slightly on his bottom lip as he battles a smirk. "C'mon, do better than that. I'm this close to calling the Peacekeepers, y'know?"

"I can bake a cake?", you suggest, unsure why you're even going along with this.

Oh right, because he's Finnick Odair.

"So can I.", he replies, now resting his elbow down on the windowsill of that godforsaken window your family sold their goods from. You'd always thought it was cute, but now, with the lack of a counter between the two of you, like the normal bakeries, you were resenting the idea. "You're not really selling your identity, you know?"

"I'm literally baking a cake right now.", you exclaim, pointing at your clothes and the oven in which a hopefully delicious cake was rising. "What kind of pathetic thief would help the store they're stealing from?"

"You could be trying to blend in."

"Okay, look, I don't care what you think, Sir. I'm the owner of this place, so you either get your goods or go."

"Good.", he chuckles, softly, although his tone turns slightly, seamlessly more serious. "That's good. That's the response you give, you got that?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What?"

"If someone ever makes you doubt who you are, if someone ever...", he swallows, licking his lips for a moment, looking away before continuing, "... ever forces an identity on you. I don't care what you think, I know who I am . That's what you say."

"You came all the way here, did all that, just to... teach me a life lesson?"

"You don't like it? Come on, that was a cool segue, you gotta admit.", he asks, clearly shoving whatever else he was feeling into the back burner as he snickers.

"Threatening to call the Peacekeepers on me? Oh, yeah, that's very cool ."

"Hey, I managed to get your name, didn't I? Doubt you'd have let me get that far any other way."

Not true. You'd have given him your name. Hell, you'd have given up your last name for him, had he asked normally.

"And what do you need my name for?"

"I don't know.", he shrugs, palpably pushing any dirty responses he might've had away. "Maybe I just want to know?"

"You must have a reason."

"You know what, yeah, usually, I have a reason for everything.", he replies, giving you the charming smile you've seen on television almost a thousand times. "But this time, I don't."

That was so infuriatingly expected. Of course Finnick Odair couldn't have just fucking asked for your name like a normal person.

"Do you at least have a reason as to why you're at my store?"

"Your family's store, sweetie, and yeah, I do.", he says, pointing at a tray of half-a-dozen shimmery blue cupcakes with the number '4' frosted boastfully onto them. "Pack those up for me, will you? My order."

"Insufficient proof of that.", you reply, crossing your arms and mirroring his position from when he'd said those words. "Unless you've got a receipt, which we don't give to urgent orders so there's no chance you could have one , I don't see how you're walking away from here with them."

He laughs, heartily, nodding as though impressed. "Funny. Look, let's not make this more complicated than it should be, yeah? You're a pissed off, whiny little girl who can't take a joke, and I'm Finnick Odair. Just give me the cupcakes."

You scoff, audibly scoff at that. The nerve of him. "I'm not a little girl."

"Your brother tells me you cry when you see butterflies? Like... full-on bawl?"

You'd fucking murder your brother the next time you saw him, that was for sure.

"They're ethereal, and very rare."

"They're insects.", he reasons, shaking his head as he rests his head on his palm, tilting his head and gazing at you condescendingly, like you really were a child.

"Shut up."

He snorts, softly. "Give me the damn cupcakes, sweetie."

"Or what, you'll seduce me into giving them to you?"

His face falls, for a moment, his grin faltering. Then, with a sigh that was an infuriating mix of amused, disappointed and enigmatic, he nods. "That's what I'm known for, right? I could do it, you know? Really effectively, too."

"That wouldn't work on me."

"Give me the damn cupcakes, Y/N."

"How do I know you've paid for them?"

"You'll have to take my word for it. It's called trust, ever heard of it?"

"It's called not being a pompous asshole, ever heard of it?"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you turn your back to him, bringing the tray over to the window sill. "Brought your own bag?"

He nods, a slightly triumphant smile - that you choose to ignore, thank you very much - on his face as he hands it to you, then nodding to the bag. "It's all the rage in the Capitol, you know?"

"Oh, I know. I see the Capitol freaks with it all the time on TV.", you mutter, gently bringing out each cupcake and placing them in each indent in the box you'd brought out. "Any embellishments you want before I put them in the bag?"

"Like a bow or something?"

"Yeah, like a bow, a card, some extra sprinkles taped to the box.", you shrug, feigning nonchalance. The urge to draw him was getting way too strong, and it was the most peculiar feeling ever - one you'd never felt before. Capturing him, in a way the cameras he was always swarmed by never could, that would be perfect.

"Yeah, card would be nice."

"What would you like on it?", you ask, sliding a card over from the cardboard box overflowing with them, as you click open a pen.

He raises a brow. "Do you have good handwriting?"

You tsk, shoving the pen in his face. "Here, you do it, then."

He giggles, mischief swirling in his eyes as he takes the pen from you. "Probably best." He clears his throat, dramatically, giving you a matter-of-fact look before he begins writing. "Dear President Snow, wishing you a Happy Reaping Day, with a delicacy from District Four- uh, what do you call these, sweetie?"

"Cupcakes?"

"Something cooler." He narrows his eyes at you, tapping the pen on the counter.

"Cupcakes from the Bakery Around The Corner? Seriously, this is District Four, we're not the Capitol - we don't have fancy icing and a quirky little name for each of our orders."

"Yeah, but he does this thing where each year, you have to bring a new delicacy from your District.", he mutters, a slight scoff present in his voice. "Reaping Day special. So I need a cool name."

Interesting. That almost sounded like resentment, from the Golden Boy to the President.

"I'm flattered you consider my cupcakes delicacies."

"Okay, look, your cupcakes are good, delicious, even, but they're not delicacies.", he reminds, keeping the stream of insults you were throwing at each other going. "I just need to give him something other than seafood this year, apparently."

"Well, that's stupid. We're the fishing district."

"Like he gives a flying fuck. What Coriolanus Snow wants, Coriolanus Snow gets."

You snort, covering your mouth. "That's his name?"

"What, did you think it was President ?", he asks, still not looking up from the card as he spins the pen around between his fingers - both calloused and delicate, preserved and wild.

"No, I thought it'd be something more normal."

He tsks. "Seriously, come up with a name for these things."

"They're for you , so call them Odairs, or something, I don't know. Should stroke your ego, too, so it's a win-win."

"These are supposed to be delicacies. Like, a form of pride among our people. I can't name them after me, no matter how awesome that would be.", he adds, with a slight grin.

"Whores from District Four.", you chuckle, shaking your head. "Call them that."

"Why, 'cause I'm the 'Whore from Four' ?", he asks, smirking. "That's a no-no word, you know?"

"Yeah, well, my patience is thinning with you, Odair."

He snickers, softly, chewing the inside of his cheek, still staring at the card. "You know what, fuck it. Whores it is."

"Really? Just go with no card."

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, a card is expected.", he sighs, spinning the pen around. "I should just call them whores. But, you know, spelt with an 'h'. What's he gonna do, ask around the District 4 marketplace for 'hores'?"

You laugh. "Hey, if that works...", you salute him, nodding. He writes with soft, almost enchanting strokes, and then signs his name.

"Thanks, Y/N.", he adds, after you finish taping the note precisely to the centre of the box's lid, before gently lowering it into his Capitol bag. "If this works, I'm paying you extra."

"If President Snow comes around asking for my District-famous 'hores', I'll pay you extra."

══════════════════ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ══════════════════

The muffled rush of the waterfall, and the feathery tufts of grass you were laying on almost help you enjoy life , for once, and help you forget that Reaping Day is tomorrow. Almost.

"You know you're not supposed to be out here, right, sugar?"

And then suddenly, the 4 o'clock sun isn't the thing that's blinding your senses.

It's him, instead.

Towering over you, almost gleaming hair threatening to spill over and disrupt the calm in the pool of his eyes, he tilts his head mockingly.

"I know."

He gapes in mock scandal. "Aren't you the little rebel?", he muses, raising a brow in amusement before offering you his hand.

You grab it, and he hauls you up with admirable ease. "Your cupcakes were a hit, sweetie. Absolute hit.", he informs, with the twinkly grin that comes with being Finnick Odair.

His mildly calloused hand still grips yours tightly.

"I see. You're welcome."

He shrugs, nodding. "Yeah, I suppose you deserve the thanks."

The silence sweeps past you, the only sounds embossed in both of your hushed breaths, in the gentle songs of birds, the faint roar of the waterfall, and suddenly, his voice, smooth as a wave embracing the shore.

"Come on."

"Where?"

"Trust me."

When Finnick Odair asks you to trust him, you do. Rule number one of the rule book of... well, life.

"If you take me to some Capitol party-"

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I promise, the last place I'm ever taking you is the Capitol. In fact, it can be said I'm doing the exact opposite."

You raise a brow. "What, you're taking me in the opposite direction? As far away from the Capitol as possible?"

His eyes dart around, above, behind and beside you, before they finally land on yours, and he nods, slowly, hesitantly. "Yeah, exactly.", he muses, his words drawn out as if he was unsure of them, too.

Bad sign.

"You're taking me out the borders?", you hiss, lowering your voice and glaring sharply at him. "That's illegal, Golden Boy."

"Don't call me that. Not here, in District 4."

You scoff. The audacity running through his veins was insufferable. "I'll call you whatever I damn want to. You trying to get me killed or turned into an Avox?"

"I'm trying to show you something!", he snaps, using his tense grasp on your hand to draw you closer, so that your foreheads were borderline touching. See, this was bad, this was bad, this was-

"Just let me!", he continues, his voice almost pleading. "You think I don't know it's Reaping Day tomorrow? That you could get picked to go die in the Games?"

"No, you're just the one helping us go die."

"You shut up.", he hisses, a finger in your face. "Don't say things you know nothing about. I'm a mentor."

"Did you even try with the tributes from last year? Or the year before that? Because I heard that-"

"What you heard is fucking-", he cuts himself short, taking a deep breath. "Please. Just follow me. For the love of God.", he orders, gently tugging you along.

Not like you even wanted to pull away - this was Finnick Odair.

"What is it you love most about District 4?"

"What?"

"District 4. What is it you love most about it?"

"It's home.", you shrug. "What else is there?"

"Yeah, but I mean, with time, any place is home. Have you never wanted to leave, to explore?"

It's times like these you realize your parents' bakery isn't that important- you'd sell the whole thing to figure out what was going on in that angelic head of his. His words lilting through your senses like sea-breeze.

"I'm exploring as much as I can right now."

He pauses for a moment, turning around. Dimples. "I'm glad I can be your guide, then."

Shut the fuck up, freak of nature. Stop with your beautiful words.

You almost say that. You don't, though.

"Okay, can you jump for me?"

"Jump?", you ask, looking over his shoulder at the huge gap between the part of the rock you were on, and the one you were supposed to go to. "No way."

"Come on, you can do it.", he says, leaping over the humongous gap as if he were playing hopscotch. "I'll catch you."

That's not the part you're worried about. The part you're worried about is you chickening out in front of the Finnick Odair. The interviews he would go through.

'Oh, yes, Hunger Games or not, tragic deaths have always been part of my everyday. Just the other week, a girl I knew slipped near a waterfall and plummeted to her death. Tragic. But I got over it because I'm Finnick Odair. I'm hot. And rich. And did I mention, hot?'

The entire nation wouldn't mourn you. It'd mourn the fact that poor Darling Finnick Odair had to watch you die.

"I don't know about this, Odair."

"Trust me."

That's the second time this man had asked you to trust him tonight. Rule of life.

"I swear, it'll be worth it. Take a leap of faith. Literally."

You grimace, pursing your lips. Your eyes move-

"Don't!", he yells, suddenly, waving his hand from across the abyss so your eyes land on it. "DON'T look down. Just look at me. Leap to me."

Reach for his eyes. Those pools of moss green and cerulean blue that make you want to embrace and destroy the planet for being able to create something so perfect.

It takes a couple of seconds for you to convince yourself he'll catch you. It's an excuse to look at his muscles, yeah, but still, he's strong enough. He'll catch you.

I won't die in front of Finnick Odair.

And you leap.

Instantly, your feet slip on the wet rock on the other side, and you grip onto Finnick's shoulders as he wraps his arms around you.

"Toldja."

"Shut up. I almost died."

"So dramatic.", he chuckles, gently letting go of you as he leads you further behind the waterfall, the tufts of grass on which you lay now faintly visible through the gushing water between you and them.

"There's a tiny cave kind of thing here. Look."

You squint, kneeling down in front of the entrance.

"Don't be shy. Come in."

You crouch down, taking his hand as he leads you further into the cave, walking gingerly until you see a tiny pool, illuminated by a golden ray of sunlight spilling through from a crack in the stone above.

Good god.

And around it, as though crafted for you, placed for your perusal, were hordes of glass-blue butterflies, fragile, delicate, and oh-so-ethereal, twirling around each other, bathed in all directions by the beam of light, which flowed through their transparent wings.

Finnick Odair, marry me.

"So?", he asks, breath gently brushing your ear. "What do you think?" The eagerness in his eyes was obvious, as though he were a child showing you the scribbles he'd just made.

"I..."

"I thought, y'know, I mean, I get excited about the ocean, so there's no reason for you not to get excited about butterflies."

"How did you find this place?", you ask, breathless.

"That's a secret."

Your eyes are transfixed onto the flapping of wings, the distribution of gold, the surreality of it all. It's almost godly. It's so breathtaking, you genuinely need to sit down. He sits with you.

"Are you scared for tomorrow?"

"That's a secret."

He smiles, softly, though the sadness in his expression is palpable and inevitable. It irks you. The way he is supposed to be, according to you, is spinning around the shoreline, laughing as he dances with the waves, sand on his hands and knees, a tan kissing his skin. That's how he must remain, and that is how you will draw him, if you ever get to.

After a tiny while, though, he leans back, against the rock behind him, eyes still trained on your awe as you watch the butterflies glide around blissfully, before looking out, at the curtain of water flowing and concealing the entrance of this little slice of paradise he'd found for you.

"You know, you could just stay here till tomorrow. You don't even have to go to Reaping Day."

"Oh, yeah, because that's smart. I'll be arrested."

"Then just don't go back."

"Leave my family to get punished?"

"Please tell me you didn't need tesserae."

"Well, before you, barely anyone from our District won, and if they did, they most definitely didn't share."

He groans, running his hands over his face. "So it's not even a fair chance."

You shake your head. "It's fine, though." Has been for five years.

He scoffs, borderline laughing at you, derisively. "Please elaborate."

"If you managed to find the one tiny place on earth where butterflies still thrive, and it happened to be here, by the waterfall I spent my whole life admiring, then, there's a chance I won't be reaped."

"You're extraordinary. Genuinely. Phenomenal. Splendid. Fabulous. Amazing." Was that awe in his voice? Awe at... you? What you just said?

"Are you buttering me up because I might be picked to die tomorrow?"

"I'm buttering you up because you're incredible."

Drawing him isn't enough.

Sonnets, prose, stories, love songs, ballads.

Those would be enough.

"If I get reaped, you better mentor me good."

"If you get reaped, you'll win. I'll get you sponsors, I'll train you so that you'll be an absolute force to reckon with."

The promises are beautiful and fragile and absolutely ludicrous. But that would be the name of his biography.

"If I survive, we're coming here every day."

It's like you've already resigned yourself to the fact that you were going to get chosen.

"You're a Career. You'll be fine."

"Who are you trying to convince?"

Silence suddenly enters the cave.

"We should go."

Both of you say it, both of you agree, and both of you get up.

"Thank you, Finnick."

His name tastes oddly sweet coming out of your mouth. However, the next moment shows that his lips taste even sweeter.

His fucking dimples.

"C'mon. I think this time, leaping will be easier."

What he means by that, you don't know.

Not like you want to, not immediately. Spending your whole life trying to figure him out seemed like a solid career plan.

You leap again.

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[backgroundagent3]

for the character ask, daisy johnson!

Thank you so much for the ask! �� I love any excuse to talk about Daisy Johnson.

First impression: I'm trying to squeeze my brain here, but all I remember was trying not to like her at first because I knew se was a double agent for the Rising Tide. It goes without saying I failed miserably about three episodes in.

Impression now: She is my favourite character of all time.

Favorite moment: I really can't choose, but one that comes to mind was the final fight of season 5. I think it's a very underrated fight scene, because it's the end of the world, her dad is dying, she has been recently betrayed and tortured by her friend, and she still goes into battle BY HERSELF against Talbot, and if that wasn't bad enough, when she's about to die a horrible death she realises that the only way she can save the world is if she takes the serum and basically condemns the person she loves most to his death. It's so heartbreaking and poetic, but very cool to watch, and I just love so much it, idk.

Idea for a story: This is angsty but I would love to read something where the events of 5.14 are properly dealt with. May watches the security cameras and goes ballistic on Fitz, and Daisy gets time to grieve and heal. They get Coulson back and he's horrified, and Jemma is so conflicted but she's there for her best friend.

Unpopular opinion: Since apparently I can't stop thinking about season 5, here's some more. I think she actually did a good job of leading the team in season 5b. Especially if you consider that she's been recently tortured, her family doesn't seem to care, she has no experience, and hasn't gotten a good nights sleep in about 5 years. She might be tough, but hello? IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?? You have to be at least a little bossy if you wanna make it through that. Also if you're gonna be a baby and call her a hard ass maybe you should have thought twice before joining SHIELD.

Favorite relationship: If it's romantic, then Sousa. I love them so so much, they're literally perfect and despite my obvious outrage at season 5, I will forever love the AoS writers for somehow pulling that off. As for platonic relationships, I'd say May. She's the perfect mother figure for her, and I love the parallels between them. I think Daisy has the best relationships in general, but this one is my favourite. Honourable mentions go to Coulson for being the most unhinged dad ever, and to Jemma for being the sweetest friend in the earlier seasons.

Favorite headcanon: before she goes off to space at the end of season 7, she rebuilds Afterlife with the help of Sousa and Kora. I've said this before, but I think they are actually the perfect team to do this. Kora has lived in Afterlife her whole life, she's seen Jiaying help people go through Terrigenesis, and she's been though it herself in a much healthier and safer environment than Daisy. Sousa is reasonable and calm, which are good qualities to have when you're helping someone who's terrified and potentially dangerous. He has experience leading people, which I think would make him a good mentor for the Inhumans. So Kora has the experience, Sousa has the qualities, and in my opinion, Daisy has a nice combination of the two. She has a different and much more horrifying experience of Terrigenesis that people who accidentally go though it can relate to, and she has spent years exploring and controlling her powers, so she knows what the deal is. And she's also a good leader, so where Sousa can help the Inhumans pre-Terrigenesis, she can train them after if that's what they want. Because that's another thing, SHIELD may be funding Afterlife, but they've learnt their lesson and they're not sticking their noses where they shouldn't. They accept new recruits and help train them, but if that's not what the Inhumans want, then SHIELD helps them get settled back into their normal lives. Anyways this got long but it's one of my favourite headcanons, so there you go.

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry for rambling, but I have a lot to say about Daisy. 🌼💛

Character Asks.

#ask away #character asks #agents of shield #aos #daisy johnson #skye #quake #glenn talbot #melinda may #the cavalry #leopold fitz #phillip coulson #jemma simmons #deke shaw #daniel sousa #dousy #kora #jiaying #brekker-by-brekkerr #background agent 3

[leclercings]

Long Distance Love | Lando Norris x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

A/N: This was for a request!! Here's what I came up with🤍

yourusername

tagged landonorris

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and others

yourusername: i think i like this little life

view 456 comments

landonorris: ilysm🤍

↳yourusername: i love you too!!

↳oscarbabe: I'm deaddd

carlossainz55: 🔥🔥

papayatifosi1: they're all cute together!!

↳y/nlover: agreed🥺

*****

“Babe, I missed you.”

You wrap your arms around Lando just as he enters your apartment.

Not just yours, though. His as well.

You've been living together for the past year. Although you're used to the solitude because Lando travels across the world for the races, the place still feels empty without him around.

The feeling of joy and happiness that fills you whenever the bell rings and when you see it's him- it gives you a thrill.

Long distance is hard, but there is some strength in holding on to a relationship while being apart. It's challenging. It's frustrating. There are days you crave his presence and touch. There are days you wish he was beside you to keep you together.

You've known Lando since he was a kid. From his go karting days to his F1 stint, you've always been a pillar of support beside his family. Being raised in a humble background, you're still not used to the glitz and glamour of Monaco.

You keep falling apart again and again in this foreign country, without your family, without any support- and Lando isn't there to pick up the pieces.

You start sobbing, losing yourself in the hug.

“Y/N, what happened?” He pulls away and gently wipes your tears.

“I miss you so much. It's so painful not having you around.”

He gives you a sad smile.

“I know. But I can't help it, love.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is electrifying, a feeling like none other, especially considering that you guys rarely stay together.

“Lando, I-woah!”

Lando carries you to the room, bridal style, catching you by surprise.

“Would you like to go for a drive?” He asks you, placing you on the bed and plopping down next to you.

That sounds like a fun idea. You're willing to spend as many moments as you can with him. You're feeling a little emotional, and this might be a good distraction.

“What about drive-in theater? There's a screening of The Notebook.”

He chuckles. “You'll never get tired of this movie, will you?”

“Never.”

*****

You're sobbing throughout the movie. Lando hands you the tub of ice cream you're both sharing. It's hard to find privacy amidst the stares that people are giving to the both of you- considering Lando’s celebrity status. But you're getting used to it.

You decided to match hoodies. He's wearing one of your favourite black Playboy hoodies with the purple logo at the back. You have a similar looking one but in grey.

Just as the movie ends, your ice cream too.

“I'm hungry,” your stomach growls as if on cue, and a blush spreads across your cheeks.

“Burger and fries?”

“Yes!” You make a fist pump.

You reach McDonald's. Lando parks the car and you both enter the restaurant.

There are stares again, of course, so you feel a little conscious about your appearance. Lando places his hand at your back, guiding you to a seat and also as a reassurance that he's there with you, no matter what.

You place your order. You're both sitting, waiting and chilling, but you're suddenly interrupted by a little girl walking towards your table along with her mom.

“Lando!!!”

Lando smiles at the girl.

“Could I please have a picture?”

“Sure,” Lando gets up and stands beside the girl. She gives you both a toothy grin. “What's your name, love?”

“I’m Diane. Who is this with you?” She points at you.

“This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Wow! Could I have a picture with you as well?” She gives you an innocent look, and your heart skips a beat. You click a picture with her.

“I think you're really pretty,” she tells you, before taking off a bracelet that she's wearing and giving it to you. “Please keep this.”

You beam at her.

“Thank you, love. I'll keep it safe. I think you're really gorgeous too.” Diane blushes.

“Thank you,” her mom says. “Let's go Diane.”

She gives Lando a hug and then leaves.

After spending a few hours at the McDonald's, you both decide to go for a walk.

Fans keep on approaching you. Most of them are so supportive and sweet. By the end of the day, you're feeling better and you've earned quite a few bracelets.

As the night approaches, you're tired. But your heart is full of love, grateful for all the kindness that you received today. As a thank you, you decide to post a picture on Instagram.

Lando is leaving for Japan tomorrow. You're going to miss him. But you're willing to go through this tribulation- as long as Lando gets to live his dream.

You're lucky to have someone like him in your life. And to be honest, he's very lucky too. No matter how many hardships and ups and downs you face in your life and relationship- you will always have good people around. Today has proved that.

You're willing to make it work, and so is Lando. That's what matters in the end.

#f1 #formula 1 #lando norris #ln4 Leclercings #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #ln #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #f1blr #leclercings #f1 imagines #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART NINE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: family trauma/lore

Notes: TSOTSC finally reached 20k words, yippee!

PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN | NAVIGATION

Azrael looked at the female angel beside him, noticing the lovestruck expression on the girl's face. He looked at her with a deadpanned expression, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Azrael's deep black eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a light blond haired short male angel with rosy spots on his cheeks, Lucifer. Azrael grimaced, watching as Lucifer talked with Michael, Lucifer's twin brother.

Azrael can hear a satisfied sigh left [Y/n]'s lips, Azrael still doesn't know why the girl is so lovestruck with the guy. Lucifer's curiosity is a looming threat, everyone in the high council of angels can feel it but they can't do anything about it as the said angel hasn't done anything yet.

Azrael sighs, grabbing the cloud pillow off the couch so he could sit beside her, the cushioned seat sinking as he sat down. He nudges her, catching her attention.

“I still don't understand what you see on that guy.” he deadpans at her and [Y/n] rolls her eyes at the taller male.

“Do you want me to take out my 50 slide presentation again on why I like him so much?” [Y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow and Azrael flinched, raising his hands in defeat.

“No, thank you.” He mumbled, shuddering as he remembers the time she presented those slides to him, which he still didn't understand why she liked the boy so much. He was zoned out during all of the presentation.

Azrael sighs, chest heavy and tight. He doesn't understand why. The thought of his best friend getting married to someone else hurt for some reason.

“Make sure you won't regret it, you're getting married to him soon.” He deadpans and [Y/n] just laughed, “I won't. He won't do anything to hurt me.” she said confidently.

Azrael rolls his eyes playfully, “You seem confident with that statement.”

[Y/n] scoffs playfully, “Because I know him.”

“Do you really know him?” Azrael retorts back, raising an eyebrow at her. [Y/n] flinches slightly, Azrael is right. She's still 25 years old and so is Lucifer, they're both very young. They still have lots to learn about each other.

It doesn't matter, Lucifer loves her and she loves him back. They have an entire eternity to know each other.

With a long exhale, she turned to look at Azrael, “Maybe I may not know him entirely but I will be able to.”

Azrael just sighs, shaking his head, “Whatever you say [n/n], but if he does something... Don't tell me I didn't tell you so.” he chuckled and [Y/n] rolls her eyes playfully at him, nudging Azrael playfully.

“Hey, I know him. He's my best friend and we've known each other the moment we existed.”

Azrael scoffs playfully at her words, “Who knows? People change.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. [Y/n] avoided his gaze and turned to look back at Lucifer who seems to notice her.

Lucifer gave her a wink and a charming smile, sending her a kiss to her way causing for her to blush and giggle.

Azrael rolled his eyes at the scene.

“They do and I hope he changes to become a better version of himself.”

After getting married to Lucifer, life felt good. Lucifer treated her so well, bringing her flowers everyday, giving her affections in every chance he gets.

Everything was fine until God created the first ever humans, [Y/n] knows how much of a curious man Lucifer is, naturally, he went out to observe them.

It created cracks in their relationship.

Lucifer began to go home later than usual, occasionally forgetting to give her affections.

And their topics—his topics have now shifted to God's newly created creature, a woman named Lilith.

[Y/n] had to endure the pain and heartache as she listens to her husband talk so fondly about the woman, complimenting Lilith in every possible chance he gets.

But nevertheless, [Y/n] remained to have confidence in him. Choosing to trust him, he is her husband after all. They've been together for many eons, she knows him.

Does she?

No, she doesn't.

Especially on what she's currently witnessing, [Y/n] hid between a large tree in the garden of Eden. She had the urge to check up on Lucifer, her instinct was screaming for her to do so.

Her nails are buried in the bark of the tree, ichor flows out of her fingertips as she tries to prevent a sob from escaping her lips. The wooden sensation of the wood against her fingertips, the stinging pain of the scratched skin of the tips of her fingers is what she felt.

With the additional sensation of the aching feeling that came from where her heart lies.

Warmth slid down her cheeks, bringing her gold covered fingertips to feel her skin.

Tears, the tears never seem to stop running down her beautiful yet sorrowful face.

Her eyes locked on to her husband, Lucifer—who looked at Lilith with so much affection in his eyes as he held the woman's hand.

‘Why... Why is he looking at her like how he used to look at me...?’

[Y/n] asked herself repeatedly in her mind. Each word got louder and louder on her mind, and each time she did, pain became more apparent to her internal voice as she asked herself in anguish.

‘Move... I need to leave... Move [Y/n]!’ she cried to herself, her mind screaming for her to leave. To save herself from even more heartbreak.

Yet, she remained still. Eyes fixed on the two.

Her hands slapped over her mouth to prevent sobs from escaping her plump and soft lips, eyelashes fluttering and glistening with tears. Warm sunlight filtering through the strands of her eyelashes, making the redness around her eyes more prominent.

Dull [e/c] eyes blankly staring at the two—her husband and a different woman.

Despite its dullness, her eyes were filled with anguish.

Tired, dull, and swollen.

No longer bright, hopeful, and happy. It's now filled with sorrow, and unimaginable heartache. Something an angel like her shouldn't feel. Yet, Lucifer Morningstar made that possible.

[Y/n] watches as her husband caresses Lilith's face, so affectionately.

Something she didn't experience from him lately.

“You're so beautiful.”

She heard him mutter to Lilith with a voice that carried so much emotion, it was enough to shatter her heart to tiny million pieces.

Finally gathering enough strength, she finally released herself from where she stood. Finally allowing herself to move, flying away swiftly and discreetly.

A single feather was what was left of where she once stood.

She arrived at her shared home with Lucifer, quickly locking herself inside their bedroom.

Her body slouches against the door as she slowly slides down to the floor.

Painful sobs left her lips, shoulders shaking as she buried her face into her hands.

‘No, no, no, no, no... I must be seeing things... Lucifer can't just fall in love with someone that easy...’ she laughs to herself, voice cracking and trembling as she did so.

Shaking her head as she desperately tries to make herself believe her own words.

“This must be a misunderstanding, that's right... I'll ask him when... When he comes back...”

She says to herself, voice lowering to almost a whisper.

‘That is... If he comes home...’

She thought sadly, supporting her shoulder on to her knees, burying her face into her arms. Strands of her hair falling off to the side of her face,  framing the heartbreaking picture of the face that belongs to a heartbroken angel.

‘He can't just... Leave me like that... He can't just break our vows.’

She thought to herself, her hands rubbing her sides for comfort.

She only has herself to comfort herself, her husband isn't here after all.

“When he comes back, the two of us will have a proper and mature conversation... I hope.” she says to herself weakly, picking herself up from the floor. Knees tremble from the weight of her emotions, chest filled with pain and heartache. She can barely breathe, she wonders if she was still breathing.

She felt like a walking corpse.

Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her dress, the soft material of her dress providing comfort to her swollen and aching eyes.

She dragged herself across the room, finally approaching the full length mirror just by their closet.

She can see how much of a mess she is. Eye bags underneath her eyes, tear streaks evident on her cheeks, her hair a mess. Pale skin and chapped lips from severe dehydration from how much she cried.

‘Is that me...?’ She asked herself, finally processing what she's seeing, finally coming to the realization that the figure in the mirror is her own reflection.

She can barely recognize herself, she doesn't look like that. She doesn't remember looking so tired and so... Sad and pathetic.

‘This wouldn't do, I don't want Lucifer to see me like this..’ she thought to herself sadly, the face of Lilith flashing in her mind.

Lilith, the first ever human woman. Of course, someone as beautiful as her would be someone Lucifer would fancy.

[Y/n] couldn't help but compare herself to the woman. Lilith has bright and blemish pale skin, hers were a sickly kind of pale.

Lilith has bright and hopeful eyes, hers are dull and sad.

Lilith has a beautiful and blemish free face, hers are tired and dark bags are underneath her eyes.

[Y/n] shakes her head, getting rid of the negative thoughts that filled her mind.

“Stop that, Lucifer loved you just the way you are.” she says to herself, yet doubt was evident in her voice.

‘Loved. That's right, he probably doesn't love me anymore.’

She shakes her head once more, ‘Stop that, he hasn't told us that yet... So I shouldn't say something like that...’

‘I'll just clean myself first, make myself presentable. In case he ever comes home.’

She says to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom to freshen up.

He never came home that day.

She lies on their shared bed, coming to that realization as the clock finally hit one in the morning. The bed was cold and lonely, the warmth that was usually beside her isn't present.

Closing her eyes, allowing the tears to glide down her pale cheeks, the tears staining the pillowcase of her pillow.

Past memories flash on her mind, memories of where Lucifer and her were still happy and in love.

“You are my best friend, the love of my life... I am so lucky to be called yours.” Lucifer says to her, kissing her forehead.

They were still teens in love, young and stupid but in love.

“You are so cheesy, stop saying cheesy things you're making me flustered.” she giggles as he twirls her around, bits of the clouds around them fluttering due to their movements.

Lucifer giggles, dipping her effortlessly and presses his forehead against his, “But it's my job to make you flustered, darling.”

She giggles, pink dusting her cheeks, “I love you, Lucifer.”

“I love you too, darling.”

She cried herself to sleep that night.

She sat on the couch of their living room, the early sunlight filtering through the large windows of their home, giving their home some warmth. The warmth makes her forget the coldness of her skin and the numbness of her heart.

Her head whipped to the sound of the door being opened, lo and behold, her husband finally came home.

Her eyebrows furrowed, eye twitching. She was aching to snap at him but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.

“Lucifer, where have you been?” she asked softly, voice cracking and trembling in each syllable.

Lucifer flinches, jumping slightly from surprise. He was surprised to hear his wife's voice. He didn't expect her to be awake so early in the morning.

He gave her a nervous smile, “Darling, why are you awake so early?” he asked, [Y/n] just continuously tapped her feet against the marble tiles.

“Enough of that, I know you have been spending time with that human.” she says softly and Lucifer's eyes widened, avoiding his wife's eyes because of guilt.

“It's part of my job, love—”

“Stop lying to me, Lucifer Morningstar.” she snaps, eyes glaring at him, “I didn't know telling her that she's beautiful is part of the job? Might I also include... Caressing her face? Was that part of the job? Tell me, Lucifer...”

“Are you tired of me...?” she asked softly, and Lucifer's eyes saddened.

“No, no, no... I can never be tired of you...” he says softly, he's unsure if he's lying to himself or not. But he desperately tries to believe that he's not tired of her. Yes, he still loves her... Right?

He doesn't know the answer to that.

“Then why...?! Why are you spending the majority of your time with her?!” she screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she grips her hair. She swore she ripped some strands but she's too much in pain to care.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by her outburst.

“Because I'm trying to make her feel better because Adam hasn't been good to her and I hope you can find it in your heart to care for her just a little.” he says softly, remembering the things Lilith told him, how Adam was mean to her.

[Y/n]'s eye twitch, the nerve. Why would she care about her?

“Why would I care about her?!” she asked angrily, and Lucifer frowned, “Because I care about her.” he says honestly, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Morning, noon, and night I care about her, yet you cannot spare a single sympathy for her.”

[Y/n] was taken aback, the first time sensing such hostility from him. Her husband defending another woman when all she ever asked from him is his time, some time for her.

“I'm just asking why you're spending so much time with her! I am your wife, Lucifer... I need you too!” She exclaimed, her voice cracking in anguish, “You're barely home anymore and it's getting unbearably lonely in our house, I missed you so, so much... Please.. I need you.”

“For heaven's sake, [Y/n]... Lilith just existed and she's scared and confused and Adam is also not treating her right! She needs someone.” He sighs, blue eyes looking at tired [e/c] ones, he would've asked for her forgiveness for his tone, but he was blind with the sense of duty towards Lilith. He couldn't think straight. Neither of them can.

“So stop being selfish, I'll come back when you have cleared your head, okay...?” he says softly yet a tinge of sharpness in his voice, turning around to leave, his heels clicking against the marbled tiles in each step he took.

The sound of the door clicking as he closed it brought her back to reality.

Her legs gave out as she fell into the cold hard marble floor, kneeling like heaven's first ever sinner. Her sin? Falling in love with heaven's most beautiful angel.

Blinking, she tries to process what just happened.

She and Lucifer just had their very first fight, and she doesn't know how to process it.

‘Azrael was right, I really don't know him at all.’

She thought to herself sadly, wiping her tears with her wrist before a broken sob escaped her lips once more.

She was left alone crying to herself in an empty, cold, and lonely house.

Days passed by, both Lucifer and [Y/n] were ignoring each other, unsure how to approach the other.

[Y/n] remained unmoving in their bed, all alone and cold. It's been so long since she last took care of herself.

“I feel so tired and weak... Heaven's... I feel like I'm about to pass out.” she murmured weakly, turning around to look at the empty spot of her shared bed with Lucifer, to see the said man to be nowhere in sight. He hasn't been home for a few days now.

‘I am so tired... Maybe I should rest for a bit...’ she thought, her eyesight blurring from the lack of sleep, she kept waiting for Lucifer's return but the man was nowhere in sight.

She sighs sadly, her eyes drooping without notice.

She passed out.

She doesn't know how long she was asleep but the moment she woke up she was in Azrael's house, the man told her that she was asleep for days.

And also told her about the fall of both Lucifer and Lilith.

She still couldn't wrap her head around it, refusing to believe it.

Azrael sighs, taking a seat at the edge of the bed of where she was lying down.

“It's true, he and Lilith gave the apple to Eve... I'm afraid work is going to get much harder now that evil exists.” he spoke softly, eyes saddened as he looked at the downcast female.

He's wondering if this is the right time to tell her...

“And another thing... [Y/n]...?” he calls out softly to her, she looks at him with not a single light on her eyes.

“What is it...?”

“You're pregnant.” he says softly, [y/n]'s eyes widened.

“What...?”

[Y/n] gasped loudly as she sat up on the bed, her head whipping around to look at her surroundings.

She's back in her room, weren't she in hell before?

Her breathing was uneven, placing a hand over her chest to calm her fast beating heart.

‘Why now...? Why did the memory have to come back now...?’

Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pitiful sobs leaving her lips.

“Mom...?” a soft male voice calls out, the door to the room opening, the head of Xavier peeking through the small opening.

The boy's eyes widened when he saw his mother crying on her bed.

“MOM...?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT SOMEWHERE?!” he asked, immediately rushing to his mother's side, kneeling beside the bed.

[Y/n] shakes her head slowly, “I'm alright, I just got a bad dream...” she admitted softly, small hiccups leaving her lips.

Xavier's [e/c] eyes softened, grabbing a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket that he hasn't used yet, using it to wipe his mother's tears away.

“Do you wanna talk about it...?” he asked softly, his hands gently dabbing the soft cloth on [y/n]'s face, making sure to dry her tear stricken face.

“A little bit...” she says softly, smiling gently towards her son. Her eyes saddened even more, Xavier really looked like Lucifer.

“That's alright, don't pressure yourself mom.” Xavier spoke softly, standing up so he could sit at the side of the bed, leaning down to give a kiss on his mother's forehead.

She nodded and took a deep breath, “I dreamt... About your father.” she says softly and avoids her son's eyes.

Xavier's eyes widened, his shoulders dropping but decided not to speak and allowed his mother to talk.

“I dreamt of the past, how happy me and him were used to and now... I don't even know anymore.” she laughs bitterly.

Xavier's hand clenched slightly before relaxing, “It's not your fault mom...”

“I know.”

Xavier sighs softly, “Mom...?” he calls out softly to her, [Y/n] hummed.

“I think we need to talk about him now, it's a long overdue topic.” he says softly to her and she flinches but sighs.

He's right, she's been avoiding this topic for so many eons. It's time to talk about it.

She sighs softly, “You're right... I think we should.” and Xavier smiled, proud of her. He always has been.

[Y/n] remained seated on her bed, thumbs playing with each other. Xavier has already left to do his usual routine around the house.

Their conversation about Lucifer has already ended, she told him everything about what happened. Told him why she loves him so much and what he did to hurt her.

She told him how she and Lucifer were together for how many years before marrying each other, she told him the things that he did that made her love him.

And she just can't let go of her feelings for someone that she loved for so many eons. It's not that easy.

Even after all these years, she can't forget.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her hair cascading down to her face, framing the shape of her face perfectly. She turned her head to the side to look at the window, she could see the large backyard forest-like garden.

Knock, knock, knock.

Her head whipped in the direction of the knock, she turned to look at the door to see Michael standing and leaning against the door frame lazily.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, “Michael... What are you doing here??” she asked softly and Michael sighed as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“I came as I heard what happened, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. [Y/n] smiled and nodded, “Yes,I feel slightly a lot better now.”

Michael smiled though, his eyes still held a tinge of worry in them. He sighs, “[Y/n]... Do you want to stop this mission and let someone else do it?” he asked her softly and [Y/n]'s eyes widened.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this, Michael... Don't worry too much about me.” she says softly and Michael sighs once more.

“I'm just worried for you, everyone is.” he says sternly and [Y/n] frowns, “I know but I can assure you that I'm fine with doing this...”

Michael sighs once more, clearly already used to her stubbornness.

“If you say so,” he says softly before looking back at her once more, “—but if it's suddenly too much for you, don't hesitate to tell me okay?” he says sternly to her.

[Y/n] giggles softly, a small smile on her face, “Yes,I'll keep that in mind.”

Michael smiled and gave her a single nod, “You better.”

Michael's eyes widened, snapping his fingers as he seems to remember something, [Y/n] tilted her head at him, confused.

“I just remembered, Gabriel said she was gonna visit later.” he says deadpanning and [Y/n]'s lips tightened into a flat line, she gave Michael a deadpan, “Yay... I can't wait.” she says unenthusiastically.

Michael laughed softly and ruffled her hair, “I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad.”

“She's gonna lecture me again about how men are shit.” she says deadpanning at him as she remembers the times Gabriel kept on lecturing her about how Lucifer was just a man.

“That is so real, love that for her.” Michael says, nodding.

“Michael, you're a man.” [Y/n] says with a small smile while shaking her head with her eyes closed.

“Am I?”

[Y/n] turned to look at Michael... Who's now a woman now. She deadpanned at him, “Really?” She asked sarcastically with a small smile, Michael laughed out loud. His laughs reverberated around the room.

“I think I look gorgeous as one.” he says sassily, flipping his long blond hair behind his back.

[Y/n] giggled and Michael smiled, proud to make her happy.

“You're so silly, try wearing a maid dress next time.” she suggested playfully at him, giving him a wink.

“Don't push your luck.” he says deadpanning at her and she just laughs, holding her hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay... I won't.” she says in-between giggles.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Alright, alright... You seem to be feeling much better now,” he says standing up, giving her a small smile, “—I'll head out first, I still have some work that are needed to be finished.” he says with a long sigh.

[Y/n] giggles, “Alright then... Don't push yourself too much okay?” she says softly, her eyes looking at Michael with worry.

“I won't.” he says and she deadpans at him, “I know you're lying.”

“Shush.”

“I'll see you later, [N/n].” he says with a smile, [Y/n] smiled at him, “I'll see you later, Michael.”

“It's Michelle.” he says sassily once more, flipping his long blond hair dramatically making [Y/n] cackle, “Right... Michelle.. lmao.. I'll see you later, Michelle.” she says in-between snickers.

“Laterz girlfriend~” Michael says sassily as he left, transforming back to his male form as he did so.

[Y/n] was left alone in her room, but this time... She was laughing thanks to Michael.

© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.

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#lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #“TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN” #lucifer x reader angst #lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader angst #lucifer morningstar x you

[runningfrom2am]

the death of a doctor // LTPF

summary: with the snow heir on the way, your first son, your father wants to meet with you for the first time in years. your husband is not going to let that happen.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. use of poison with intent to kill, murder. also this takes place ten years after they returned to the capitol!

series masterlist // playlist

Your father is led through the extensive halls of the Presidential Mansion and out to the back gardens, into the rose garden where he is set to meet with you. Finally.

He's not met with you, and he should have anticipated that. His daughter, pregnant with her first child- a little boy, who should one day be heir to the President's fortune, born into a life of success and indulgences beyond imagination. Instead, he only sees his son-in-law.

"Please, take a seat." Coriolanus offers to him, a welcoming smile on his face as he gestures to the small tea table in the middle of the space. It was a fake smile, of course. Your father has seen it on the television or at events hundreds of times, but Coriolanus Snow would always try to be a good host- regardless of how much he loathed the guest in question.

"Thank you." Your father matches his polite grin, nodding to him before taking a seat. His eyes scan the greenhouse, taking in the abundance of roses and the patches of raspberry bushes that line the walls.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Coryo says proudly, carefully plucking one of the white roses from its stem to place in the centre of the tea table. "My wife takes good care of this garden, it's in honour of my Grandmother. They both love roses." He explains, not giving your father any chance to answer.

"It's lovely." He nods in agreement, watching as his son-in-law places the blooming flower in a vase on the table, sitting down himself and looking at your father expectantly. "Where is she?" Your father decides to get right to the point- no use dancing around it anymore.

"She's out." Coriolanus answers. "She's with Tigris. They're picking out colours for the nursery today."

"I was told I would be able to speak to her."

"I am capable of passing on a message."

Your father sighs, looking down and shaking his head. "Coriolanus, I appreciate everything you have done for my daughter over the years, I do, but that girl needs her family. Her parents. Especially right now. We just want to be able to support her during such an exciting and scary time."

"She has a family." Coryo defends quickly. He had never thought the situation to be scary, before. It was all excitement and parties and baby clothes and being together and enjoying the moments in which she carried his child. Suddenly, he's seeing it differently. His mother. His sister who was never even given a name. You were not free from that fate. He clears his throat. "And I assure you, she is well taken care of here. We have the best medical care the country offers available at the snap of my fingers." He says it more to remind himself.

"No, she doesn't." Your father argues, a smug smile tugging on his lips. She doesn't have him. The most renowned and desired doctor in the Capitol, in the country.

"She does." Coryo insists. "I know what you are implying, and I promise you are mistaken."

"I just want to make things right, Coriolanus." Your father adds. "I want to apologize so my wife can be there for the birth of her grandchild, so I can take good care of my daughter and ensure she is safe."

"She is safe."

Your father clocks the tenseness in your husbands jaw very quickly. "I know about your mother." His tone drops to make space for a fake form of empathy. "I knew her. She was an amazing woman and a wonderful mother. It's such a shame, what happened..." He ticks his head. "So easily preventable."

"Then where were you?" Coriolanus allows himself to lean into something more personal with the bitter question.

"I wasn't called. I wish I had been." Your father answers honestly. "Both of us know your family was in no position to pay for a doctor at the time, even with your father away working himself to death in Twelve."

Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek, looking down at the untouched drinks in between them.

"Maybe things would have ended differently for all of us."

"You speak as if you are some kind of angel." Coryo scoffs. "You still would have gone home from saving my mother and sister and beat your own daughter for being up past her bedtime, but you didn't come because my mother's life was worth nothing to you if you weren't going to be paid to save it." He picks up the teacup in front of him, taking a sip before removing it from his lips and looking down at the liquid. "My apologies, this one is yours. I asked for milk in mine." He says casually, carefully switching the cups. He can see it in your father's eyes he wants to fight with him on this.

"The war made it impossible to do any unpaid work, and like I said, I wasn't made aware of your mother's state. Besides, Y/N is my child, and you know nothing of what goes into being a parent. It is hard. You'll have moments of poor judgement and do things you will regret. You will make mistakes. That is all it was to me." Your father explains. "But I know better now. All I want is to help her."

"You don't want to help her." Coryo shakes his head. "I am telling you she has all the help she needs, and you are not needed. Your wife and son will be allowed in the mansion during the birth. It is my wife's choice when and if they will be allowed to see the child." He knew you would allow it, you occasionally had lunch with your mother and your brother found himself at the mansion quite often to use their library. They were welcome, he was not.

Your father takes a sip of his tea while he processes the information. "Is that her decision, or yours?"

"Like I said, I can pass on a message to her." Your husband replies, ignoring his question and popping one of the raspberries from the plate into his mouth and sitting back, hands placed patiently on his lap while he ignores the pain starting to bloom in his chest.

"Tell her..." Your father sighs. "That we love her, and we miss her dearly. And if she needs anything or feels unsafe, she can always come home."

"Unsafe?" Coryo asks, tilting his head with a slight, humourless laugh. "I know you don't care for me, sir, but I am the last person on this planet who would do anything to harm her. It seems you're not understanding that."

"I just want her to survive." Your father spits. "If you love her the way you say you do, don't you want her to be the one to successfully produce your heir? You would hate to have to find someone else, I know you would. Especially if the love of your life died in the same way as your mother, this time taking your child with her."

Coriolanus stands up abruptly, anger coursing through his veins alongside the poison as the chair slides back behind him. "You've never believed in her. Ever. Even now you assume that at the most natural struggle she will die. This is not about my doctors, it is about your ego and how little you respect your own child because of how you raised her. She has more fight in her than any woman I have ever met. You don't even know the extent of it."

"It's because I know her, Coriolanus. I..." Your father's voice trails off and he looks down at his shaking hands. He knows what Coriolanus has done, but there's nothing he can do to save himself now.

"You don't know her. You never have." Coryo argues. "You have never once reached out except to try and leach off of her success and my name. You couldn't care less if she lives or dies- you just want to be the one to deliver a royal baby. If you knew her, you would know that the last thing in the world she wants is to ever see you again."

He watches as your father's face goes ashen, the sentience behind his eyes disappearing. It brings a smile to his face. "You are a monster." He adds, and it's the last thing your father hears before he dies right there in your garden.

Coriolanus smiles in satisfaction, raising his hand and snapping for his security and his nurse to enter. Quickly, she reaches for his arm as he already rolled up his sleeve and she can inject the antidote.

"Dispose of him." He urges the security team, quickly pulling his red coat sleeve back over the injection site in his arm. "My wife will be home soon, this would be distressing for her. I need her as calm and comfortable as possible."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

#tbosas #tbosas fic #president snow #hunger games #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top

[nouvellevqgue]

LE TEMPS DE L'AMOUR!

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: where he spoil his girlfriend of anything aside from love on the special day of the week.

a/n: it supposed to be posted yesterday, but since my ethernet is kinda bloopy, and it erases my draft for this too, so i had to make it twice. but anyway i hope you enjoyed it!

vday series masterlist

now playing: françoise hardy — le temps de l'amour

yourusername added a photo to their story! 29m

seen by charles_leclerc, taylorhill, and 749,681 others

charles_leclerc

liked by damianodavid, and 750,368 others

charles_leclerc Flower girl 💐

view all 2,324 comments

yourusername oh i'm literally feeling so spoiled with this, thank you, cha🫶🏻 ilysm

username She's looking so smol like that 🤏

username ah to be posted by charles is gonna be my dream forever

username she's so lucky

username Why am I visiting his account on this type of day😭😭

username when will i find this man in my life

danielricciardo Tell me the location, I'm omw

   ⤷ charles_leclerc Buying for Heidi, I see.

   ⤷ danielricciardo No, it's for Max

   ⤷ username WAKE UP MAXIEL NATION

   ⤷ username what the—

yourusername

liked by gracieabrams, and 950,824 others

yourusername don't u love it when your boyfriend does 🤨

view all 8,572 comments

oliviarodrigo SO CUTE????

username we're coming back again with paparazzi y/n

username AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH

   ⤷ username so #real

username They're on a mission on driving people crazy on this type of month

username idk whose dog but OMG SO CUTE

landonorris okay then valentine family.

   ⤷ maxfewtrell Alright, let's go home, Grandpa

   ⤷ username GRANDPA😭😭😭

username Since when did his side profile become this attractive??????

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 Since then

   ⤷ danielricciardo It's no surprise that you're here, but commenting about Charles?! 😔

   ⤷ yourusername omg max look what did u do to my man danny

yourusername

liked by haileestainfeld, and 646,444 others

yourusername 🩷

view all 4,719 comments

charles_leclerc I hope you liked it, sweetie

   ⤷ yourusername LIKED?? I LOVED IT!!!!!

jennierubyjane You're an angel

username she's feeding us for this entire time is soo good i love it

username That massive heart ice cream looks really deli shoes

isahernaez The prettiest woman! 😍

   ⤷ yourusername you melt me like this ice cream on a hot summer sun

   ⤷ isahernaez 😚

   ⤷ charles_leclerc Whys betrayal always starts from Instagram?

   ⤷ username charles drama king is back again

lilymhe You didn't share the ice cream with me... 💔😔

radvxz You're gorgeous gorgeous

username i feel like charles should make a jpg account for his and y/n moments

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 And not for me?

this comment has been deleted

   ⤷ username wait i feel like seeing max's comment here

   ⤷ username dig more, i think it's probably buried along with other comments

   ⤷ username no he's replying to me and then the next second i check it, it's gone

   ⤷ danielricciardo You need to check it deeper.

username make up tut next time queen

yourusername

liked by franciscac.gomes, and 647,581 others

yourusername is this a bribe?

view all 2,763 comments

pierregasly Yes and stay away from it

username WITH A DOLLAR ON THE DOOR HANDLE I'M CRYING 😭😭😭😭😭

username the dollar is so random

   ⤷ username that's not a dollar, that's a coupon

username isa's comment is definitely brewed something in him

username the way that he immediately got her a bouquet is so funny to me

nicolezefanya I can literally hear what is he going to say to you

username i just know that was charles just based off his weird standing posture

   ⤷ username and his odd fashion too

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 We're kinda matching in that way, don't you guys think?

   ⤷ danielricciardo WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS ENDED UP IN CHARLES RELATED COMMENTS????

   ⤷ jackdoohan Someone's jealooouusssss

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, and 792,480 others

yourusername happy valentine's day from me and my best boyfriend in the whole wide world<33 love you alllllll

view all 4,618 comments

pierregasly You didn't stay away, did you?

   ⤷ yourusername nope, not even a bit

username 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

lailahasanovic this absolutely warms my heart

username ‘will you be my valentine’ RIP MY ASS

username I would launch myself up to him too if my boyfriend is him

joris__trouche Congrats to you, Lovebirds!

   ⤷ username based on the shakiness, i know it's joris who took this one

username somebody push me off a cliff😭😭😭

username they really hate seeing us free

username we're literally got drunk in this valentine day posts💀

username i feel like this truly is a revenge for isa's comment😭 poor her...

maxverstappen1 THAT SHOULD BE ME

   ⤷ danielricciardo And that also should be me who you wanted

2 comments has been deleted

username NONONO I SWEAR I SEE DANIEL AND MAX FIGHTING

   ⤷ username alright let's drink your pills granny

danielricciardo You guys are so cute!

   ⤷ yourusername how is it going with the man?

   ⤷ danielricciardo Still trying, but I got it

   ⤷ yourusername you better be

TWITTER, AROUND 4 HOURS AFTER THE POST:

charles_leclerc

liked by sabrinacarpenter, and 1,469,835 others

charles_leclerc My Valentine's day with you are always been the best, I love you❤️ yourusername

view all 3,621 comments

username she's so stunning, no wonder he pulled her

   ⤷ username leclerc siblings are never pulled a bad one. they definitely has a quite similar taste in woman

yourusername you're the sweetest! i love love love love love you so much❤️❤️

username she look so good! what type of dress is that??

livkatecooke STUNNING!!!!

estebanocon That cake is looking so delicious

landonorris you guys suited valentine's day, ngl

username PARENTS 😍

danielricciardo We should do a double date!

   ⤷ yourusername have you get along with him?

   ⤷ danielricciardo I definitely have 😄😄

   ⤷ charles_leclerc I have a bad feelings about this.

anadearmas 🫶🏻🫶🏻

dovecameron I love love her fits so much

#✶! #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smau #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #coral sky

[love-belle]

paper rings !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she would say yes, even with paper rings.

or

for when you're certain that they're your person. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au irl // lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - one of the cutest things i have ever written, loved this request!! i hope you like it, i love you, thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 729,926 others

yourusername best believe i'm still bejeweled

7,718 comments

username MOTHER IS MOTHERING

username just one chance pls 🙏

username im so norma abt her hahahaha!! SO normal abt losing my wife to a man that goes vroom vroom in circles!!

lewishamilton the most beautiful ❤️

-> yourusername thank u baby ❤️

lewishamilton can't believe how lucky i am

-> yourusername that's all me

-> username i NEED what these bitches have

username she's not wearing her engagement ring question mark

lilymhe girlfriend 💌

-> yourusername girlfriend 💌

username the ring ⁉️⁉️⁉️

username she ate so hard they named the restaurant after her

username she's not wearing her ring ://

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

"hey, baby."

"hey," lewis mumbled, not sparing y/n a single glance as he continued to watch a random episode of modern family.

"how was your night?" y/n continued to make conversation with him, removing her high heels and discarding her handbag. she walked towards where he was at and kissed the top of his head before petting roscoe a few times. "sorry, there was traffic and then i had to drop aaliyah at her boyfriend's place cause she got too drunk to drive."

"'s okay," was all lewis said, making y/n frown as she turned back to look at him. he was still watching the tv, his head thrown back against the back of the couch with roscoe next to him.

"uh — i'll be right back, i need to change," y/n spoke, her confusion only growing as her fiancé gave no reply, not even a slight hum as an indication that he had heard her.

moving towards their bedroom, y/n could feel herself grow more confused, thinking of all of the possible reasons as to why lewis would be so short and distant with her.

maybe he was just having a bad day? maybe he was just tired? was he sick? did i do something? another rumour of me hooking up with my best friend? he found out i broke his favourite vase?

her mind swarming with plausible to way-too-ridiculous reasons, she didn't even notice her changing her own clothes until she was left staring at the heap that was her dress by her feet. picking it up and throwing it on the bed, she made her way towards the living room, hoping that maybe she just imagined it. that it was just ber overthinking mind that over analysed a situation.

"hey," y/n spoke again, walking around to the couch to the front of it. sensing that she wanted to sit here, roscoe stood up and moved a bit, just enough so that y/n could scoot in and then laid back, this time on her. "hey," lewis replied, his eyes flickering to her before he focused again on the show in front of him.

okay so, maybe she didn't imagine it.

"what are we watching?" y/n questioned, scratching behind roscoe's ears, desperate to make a conversation with him, seeing him for the first time since this afternoon.

"modern family," lewis sighed exasperated and as much as y/n hated to admit it, it made her feel like he didn't want her there at the moment. sure, he may have had his reasons but it didn't feel exactly good, noticing that her fiancé didn't wanna be around her at the moment.

as long as she's been with lewis, almost seven years, they've always communicated with each other. from the smallest of things like when y/n told lewis that she hated his choice of carpet for their living room to the biggest and the most important stuff like when lewis talked to y/n about wanting to wait until after they were married to have kids.

and the best thing about this was the other always understood. lewis understood that yeah, bright pink did clash with the warm and pastel tones of their home and y/n did understand that waiting until they were fully settled down was the best option.

and now, watching him not talk to her when there was obviously something bothering him was a bit confusing but still, she knew it was best to give him some space.

"uh — i'll be in the bedroom," y/n spoke, her voice just barely above a whisper and she knew he heard her because of the way his face changed and the way he turned to look at her with the slightest bit of confusion showing in his eyes. "it's been a long night and i just really want to sleep."

"okay," lewis whispered back and gave her a small smile, the most reaction she'd been able to get out of him since she came home.

"good night," y/n stood up, kissing roscoe's on the head before she turned toward lewis, who was watching his with an unreasonable look on his face. "good night, baby, i love you."

she barely heard an 'i love you' back before she was walking away from the couch and towards their bedroom. closing the door behind her, she picked up her dress from the bed and placed it on the chair by the dressing table, making a mental note to take it to the dry cleaners. after looking at herself one more time in the mirror and removing whatever was left of her makeup, she was in bed, covers drawn up to her chest.

y/n didn't know how long she laid there for, moving in and out of sleep. her mind was still stuck on lewis like a broken record, wondering what had happened while she was out. in the midst of her analysis, she didn't hear the footsteps approach the door until the person was right in front of it and the handle twisted and y/n quickly closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep just so he wouldn't question her about what she was doing.

the door opened and closed and the soft patter of footsteps could be heard.

there was silence for a full minute before lewis got in next to her, the sheet rustling. for the first five minutes, he stayed on his own side and y/n had to resist the urge to pull him closer to her, finding it hard to sleep when he was not holding her. then, he turned towards her and y/n had a feeling he was starting at her, finding it harder and harder to not let her expression change. she could feel movement next to her and ruled it out as lewis getting comfortable until a hand moved to lay across her abdomen and pulled her closer.

she heard lewis inhale deeply, his head moving to lay in the crook of her neck. she could feel his warm breath on the exposed part of her collarbone, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin. she shifted against him, her hand moving to hold him closer.

they stayed like that for what felt like mere minutes, their breathing the only sound in the room along with the ticking of the clock with each passing second. y/n figured lewis fell asleep, with how even his breathing was and she was about to move to get a bit more comfortable when he spoke.

"i'm sorry," his voice was quiet in the room, his thumb tracing circles on her stomach where her tank top had risen up slightly. "for ignoring you, kind of and being distant. i know you don't like it."

"it's okay, lew. i just want you to be able to talk to me, whenever you feel like," y/n assured him, kissing the top of his head.

"it's a stupid thing, really," lewis chuckled half heartedly, his body vibrating against hers. "don't even worry about it."

"i always worry about it when it comes to you, you know that," y/n reminded him, making him look at her. "and it's not stupid if it bothers you. what is it, love?"

"it's just that — " lewis stopped before he could continue, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "you weren't wearing your engagement ring, when you were out with your friends and then that post you posted on your instagram, people took notice of that and they were all like 'why isn't she wearing her ring' and 'did they break up' and there were some hate comments too. i reported them, by the way. and then, i don't know, i just kinda got into too much overthinking and just made myself upset over nothing and i ignored you and you went back when it was so clear you just wanted to talk to me and i feel — "

he was interrupted by a kiss.

y/n kissed in the middle of his rambling, pulling him closer with the front of his t-shirt while one of her hands rested on his cheek. a surprised noise left lewis' mouth before he melted into the kiss, tilting his head so that he could deepen the kiss.

y/n pulled away, making lewis chase her lips once again and she gave him another soft kiss before pulling back fully and looking at him with a soft smile.

"do you not like the ring?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, making y/n furrow her eyebrows.

"what?"

"do you not like the ring?" lewis repeated himself, sitting up slightly. "because if so, i can get you another one and this time you can come with me. i chose that one all by myself and i wasn't even really sure about it being 'you' because your style literally changes every week and i can totally understand if you don't like it like — that's totally valid and i'm sure — "

"oh, my god," y/n sat up straight, folding legs under her as she looked at her fiancé. "you think i don't like the ring?"

"... yeah."

"lewis," y/n dragged out the 's', standing up from the bed and rapidly moving towards her dresser, opening a small box and pulling out her ring, her engagement ring. "this the most beautiful ring i have ever seen in my life."

and it was, really. it had intricate patterns throughout the band, with a giant diamond sitting in the middle with several diamonds surrounding it. and what made it even more special was the fact that lewis had his initials, along with hers engraved on the inside of the ring. that's what made y/n fall in love with it.

"really?" lewis asked hopefully from the bed, watching her make her towards his side of the bed. she sat down next to him and took his hand in hers, the ring still clutched in her free hand.

"but that ring is not the reason i said yes, you know that, right? like, you could ask me to marry you with a ring made out of tissue paper and foil and i would still end up saying yes," y/n whispered, leaning in closer and placing a soft kiss on his lips before she gave him the ring and put out her hand for him to slide it on. "as long as it's you asking me that damn question."

lewis chuckled, sliding on the ring onto her ring finger and kissing it. he looked at her, the smile being so genuine that it shone in his eyes and y/n could see him being in love and she knew she was no different from him.

"marry me, will you?" lewis asked again, in the empty room with no one, no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them, a total contrast to when he had first asked the question. even though the answer was already yes, he couldn't help but ask. just so he could hear it one more time.

"only because you asked so nicely," y/n teased him, making lewis chuckle before he leaned in, closing the gap between them.

no shining lights, no crowd standing there applauding, no extravagant arrangement of flowers, just them.

yet, somehow, this managed to be even more special than that one.

≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱

y/n wasn't there when lewis woke up, just a post it note, along with a small box on her side of the bed saying that she was called to her office a bit early and wouldn't be home until late afternoon.

lewis smiled as he looked at the numerous hearts drawn on the note. he kept the note aside, mentally noting that he would have to add it to his collection of notes he had received from y/n throughout the course of their relationship. he took the box and opened it, his face scrunched up in confusion before he smiled, a laugh leaving him as he took out the contents of the box.

it was a paper ring.

the most simple thing yet he knew he would choose this over a million something diamond ring. a small heart on the top with the ridges along the band, it was perfect.

there was another note attached to it, just one simple line and it had lewis smiling for the rest of the day

'i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings ♡'

yeah, he made the right choice marrying her.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, lilymhe and 862,926 others

yourusername i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings 💌

tagged lewishamilton

8,719 comments

username NO ONE'S DOING IT LIKE THEM

username brb crying.

username TAYLOR SWIFT REFERENCE IM DEAD

lilymhe gf are u cheating on me ://

-> yourusername NEVER baby he's just a side piece

-> lewishamilton ...

username i see how kind god has been to others 💔💔

username no bc they're so in love i could throw up

charles_leclerc is that why he's been blasting that damn song the whole day

-> lewishamilton it's a great song ❤️

-> yourusername yes it is ❤️

username THE PAPER RINGS THE LOVE LETTER THE SONG IM DECEASED

lewishamilton uh huh that's right darling ❤️

-> yourusername you're the one i want ❤️

lewishamilton loved the ring so much 💍 i love you

-> yourusername im so glad <3 i love you sm

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #lewis hamilton x female reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton instagram au #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 instagram au #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #fake instagram imagines #fake social media #social media au

[harunayuuka2060]

Falena: Leona? I've heard from Ruggie that you would be on a vacation in the House of Al Asim's for a few months.

Leona: Yeah.

Falena: ...

Falena: Will you be there to ask MC to come back to you?

Leona: Tch. What are you saying?

Falena: Ruggie did also tell me that MC is working there as a servant.

Leona: That little—

Falena: I wish you good luck, Leona. And... don't cause any trouble while you're there.

Leona: Just bail me out if anything happens.

Falena: ...

Falena: Wait. Really?

Leona: Of course not. I never need your help.

Falena: *frowns*

Female servants: *talking about Leona's arrival*

Female servant A: I've heard he's extremely handsome and a gentleman. I can't wait to see him in person!

Female servant B: He's a prince. You can't see him just because you want to.

Female servant A: It's only a peek— Oh! MC! Good morning!

MC: *has walked into the room* Good morning.

Female servant A: MC! MC! Do you know that a prince from Sunset Savannah will spend his vacation here? It's Prince Leona to be exact! *squeals*

MC: *looks disinterested* Ah. Then it means we're going to be busy.

Female servant B: Oh. No. MC, Master Kalim specifically asked us not to give you too much tasks.

MC: Why?

Female servant A: Hmm... He said that it wouldn't be good for your health.

MC: ...

MC: I see that my lord cares about the wellbeing of his servants.

MC: How generous of him.

Female servants: *giggles* Yes! You are so right!

Female servant A: That's why I've promised to never leave this family and to forever serve them with all my life!

Female servant B: How about you, MC? I hope you will stay with us for the longest time.

MC: I hope so too. *smiles at them* You ladies are fun to be around.

Female servants: !!!

Female servants: *blushes*

Female servant A: It seems that the rumors are true. You were indeed a noble!

Female servant B: Hush! You didn't have to bring that up! MC, we're sorry. That's so rude of us.

MC: No. That is fine. I'll be going now.

Female servants: Good luck today!

MC: *leaves the room*

Female servants: ...

Female servant A: They're so beautiful...

Female servant B: Girl, you have a boyfriend.

Female servant A: But still—

Female servant B: Let's continue with our work.

Kalim: MC, a friend of mine is going to spend his vacation here.

Kalim: Can I ask you to be his attendant during his stay here?

MC: ...

MC: I can't possibly refuse you, my lord.

Jamil: *overhears that* *rushes immediately to their side*

Jamil: Nonononono! Kalim! I request that you assign another attendant to him.

Jamil: MC shouldn't do it.

Kalim: Eh? Why? Besides you, MC is one of our best servants.

Kalim: And the others are already occupied so—

Jamil: Kalim, MC is—

MC: Leona Kingscholar is my ex-husband. The reason why Jamil is concerned.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: Eh? NO WAY! YOU WERE MARRIED TO LEONA BEFORE?!

Kalim: Why didn't you tell me?! And I even hired you as our servant! Leona will probably kill me!

MC: My lord, I'm surprised of how naive you are.

Kalim: Huh?

MC: Leona would never be concerned about me.

MC: We might exchange a few pleasantries, but that's just it.

Kalim: ...

Jamil: ...

Jamil: Kalim, you look curious.

Kalim: ...

Kalim: I wanna know... Is he the father of your baby?

MC: He was.

Kalim and Jamil: ...

Kalim: Ouch.

Leona: *criticizing everything in Scalding Sands the moment he arrived*

Leona: What is so good about this place? Tch.

Leona: It's nothing different from Sunset Savannah.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst kalim #twst jamil #twst falena #twst divorced au

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Hi love I love your stories!

I was wondering could you do a story where Lando is just burnt out and exhausted from a triple header weekend and is just jet lagged and breakdown and just wants to be with reader

Idk if that makes sense if not interpret however works best

Thanks 🧡

Burnt Out - LN

I'm going to add in that the exhaustion was causing some slip ups in the last weekend of the triple header

Y/n looks at Lando as they get home, he's been quiet since they left the paddock. Just on a mission to get home and now they're back he looks almost hollowed out.

"Do you want to eat?" She asks almost hesitantly while Lando looks at her for a moment.

"I'm going to bed. You coming?" Lando mutters earning a slightly sad smile before she shakes her head since she slept on the plane, though so did he.

"I'm hungry but I'll catch up with you later." Y/n states trying not to sigh as he moves over kissing her cheek and then shuffling off and disappearing.

She ends up doing their washing and making herself a meal which she then leaves some leftovers for Lando but during her cleaning up from cooking she's almost given a heart attack when she feels arms wrap around her. Only getting such a fright because she'd put headphones on to listen to music and disturb Lando's rest as little as possible.

"Hey, how was your sleep?" Y/n asks softly, reaching up to his head and running her hand through his hair. But when she doesn't get a response, she turns around to properly face him. "Baby?"

She moves them both to sit down where Lando rubs his face into her chest.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"I fucked up on that qualifying. I fucked up and it keeps replaying in my head and I'm so fucking tired. We're doing more races next year and all the travelling and I'm ignoring you and my family-I don't even know the last time we had sex!"

Y/n has seen Lando in bad ways as a result of his career, the weeks following Russia he was just a different person. Though he tried to portray a quick ego recovery, really he still can't forgive himself for the mistake that cost him his first win.

"Lando-"

"And I come back and lie in bed for hours while ignoring you and being a dick and you leave me to it because you don't want to upset me. You are the best thing in my life and I never thank you enough for it."

"Lando...you are just exhausted. You need to rest. It's been a heavy few weekends and you are more than deserving of some time off." Y/n smiles sadly moving towards him and kissing him softly, pulling his hands up to hold her waist. "Stop being so hard on yourself baby. You are the most incredible boyfriend and the best person I know. By MILES."

"I love you." Lando mumbles making her smile at him but the sad element to it is very much present. "And I don't deserve you, even if you think I do. I don't you are just the best person ever and you deserve someone who is there for you in the same way you're there for them. I'm not."

"You're too hard on yourself. Do you think I'd sit here. and be here for you if I didn't want to be or I thought I could get better?" Y/n asks with almost an unimpressed expression. "How about...we have a bath, you can relax and the you're going to sleep and we can cuddle?"

"Yes." Lando confirms before moving over and kissing her. "And once I've slept for a bit, we;'re having the most feral, rabid, unhinged, mind blowing, blinding sex."

"That's a big promise." Y/n jokes before smiling as he carries her into the bedroom and sort of dumps her down on the bed. He climbs onto her and groans rubbing his face into her stomach. "This isn't a bath."

"I got us half way there."

"You did." Y/n laughs then gently pushing him. "Stay here, I'll be back."

"You'll be back." Lando hums, his green eyes heavy on her as he watches her get up from the bed and move through to the bathroom. Running him a bath and sighing as she FaceTimes him making him smile because his girlfriend his the laziest kind of genius. In which she'll leave her phone in there on FaceTime to keep an eye on the water but also be able to come back to cuddle with Lando since it's a huge bath that takes ages to fill.

She moves back towards him and sighs softly as he returns to lying with his face smushed into her tummy.

"I don't think I believed it when people said there was more to life than F1 before I met you..." Lando whispers making her suck in a breath tensing a little just because her boyfriend sounds so completely sad. "I mean it, even when we met and we started dating I thought you'd leave because you wouldn't understand how important F1 is. But you proved me wrong and here I am telling you how I'm not as good as you deserve."

"You're an idiot, Lando. You really are." Y/n sighs shaking her head. "You don't get to decide what I deserve. That's up to me, and I think I'm more than deserving of you."

Lando stays quiet while she sighs and looks at him.

-

After a bath in which Lando did get a head massage while y/n washed his hair and then gave him a full skincare routine, which he'd publicly condemn but actually he loves how gently y/n touches his face and just pampers him into relaxing. She also made sure to use every product he doesn't use, despite all of them being bought specifically to define his curls, on his hair while drying it.

It's not as if it happens often, so he just embraces the moments. Plus she gets so happy when he lets her use all her expensive skincare stuff on him.

"You should get back into streaming. You love streaming."

"I think I have higher priorities over streaming." Lando murmurs while she tsks as if he's lying.

"And those would be?"

"The feral, rabid, unhinged, mind blowing, blinding sex." Lando smirks a little while she gently swats at his head lightly which makes him laugh.

Clearly all her efforts have paid off because the Lando she knows and loves is very much back with her.

"You know, rather than waiting till we get home. You can tell me when you're beginning to feel a bit shitty. I might be able to help in the moment." Y/n sighs while Lando smiles brightly at her the moving up her body and kissing her several times before moving his head and kissing her neck with his teeth catching her skin.

They both know they're both too tired for sex, but maybe in the morning they'll have it in them to give each other the best orgasms after being so withdrawn from being intimate with each other.

"You going to sleep?" Y/n asks making Lando hum since his body is getting heavier against her as he sort of goes dead weight.

Finally he falls asleep and she feels a sense of her mission being completely. He'll be better in the morning, all his exhaustion and emotions just caught up with him because he tries to pretend that everything is ok even when people know it's really not ok. He just has some sort of need to pretend that he's fine.

It's not as if matters that much in y/n's mind because she'll always determined to do whatever she needs to in order to perk up his mood and make him feel better. Whether it's ahead of the next race or in a break of the season.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando #lando x reader #norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #mclaren #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #mclaren f1 #ln4 one shot #mclaren racing #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris request #request

[undiscovered-horizon]

Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]

SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"

Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.

“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”

“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."

"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"

"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike." 

“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.

Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.

“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”

“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.

“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”

“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”

Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.

Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.

The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne. 

The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”

Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.

Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.

“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”

As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.

Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.

“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”

“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.

“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”

Maybe some people don’t actually change.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”

Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.

“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.

“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”

Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.

You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.

Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.

"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”

As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”

The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”

“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”

Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”

Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”

Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.

The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.

“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.” 

The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.

“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”

“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.” 

“Right away, мой царь.”

When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression. 

“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.

“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.

“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”

“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”

A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”

His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”

The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.

Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”

“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”

“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”

That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.

“You started this.”

“And I will finish if you play nice.”

Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you,  just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”

“I learned from the best.”

The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.

Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”

To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”

The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away. 

You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?” 

You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.

 "You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.

“Mother-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”

Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”

You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.

The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.

“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”

“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”

Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.

Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:

“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”

You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.

“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.

“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”

The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.

“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”

Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.

Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.

You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.

“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.

Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”

Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”

“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”

Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.

“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”

You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.

Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.

He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.

Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.

“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”

For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.

“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”

Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.

“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”

“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.

“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”

You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.

“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.

Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”

“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”

“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”

“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.

“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.

“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.

He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”

“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”

Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:

“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.

Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.

‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?

“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.

“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.

Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.

“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.

An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.

____

мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king

моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen

#nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bones x you

[tieronecrush]

🎃 trick or treat 🎃

summary: it's halloween and joel's taking your girls trick-or-treating with you in a family costume. feeling uncomfortable in his clothes and his skin, he's on edge most of the evening but does his best to disguise it in order to not spoil the fun. back at home, when his girls lightheartedly tease him about everything he already thought about himself, you're sure to end the night showing joel exactly how you feel about him and his body.

wc: 10k (oops?)

warnings: established relationship/married, canon divergent (no outbreak, ellie & sarah are both his kids, sort of obscure with if they're both his bio kids/your kids - basically y'all are a cute lil family either way! also joel is ~40, no age mentioned for reader!), halloween, family/group costumes, DOMESTIC JOEL!!!, fluff, body insecurities, age insecurities, joel has minor sensory issues?, his kids poke fun at him, sensitive joel, SMUT. it kind of is a thing for the basically the second half, descriptions of joel's body, tummy & thigh worship, oral (m receiving), cowboy rule (for a costume), unprotected piv, lowkey sub!joel for a lil bit, reader is "giving cunt" according to bestie el, then quickly gets back to dom!joel as he gets his confidence back, joel gets that strength in an adrenaline rush that moms get lifting cars off babies but his is for chasing a nut, also, dirty talk!

a/n: my contribution to spooky season, basically at the buzzer lol. this started with me thinking how cute it would be for joel to dress up and go trick-or-treating with his kids, and ended with wanting to s*** his d*** big time. anyways, enjoy my version of halloween with joel, and thank you to @kiwisbell for screaming about this scenario with me and as always a big thanks to my sweet, sweet girlfriend @northernbluess for beta-ing!!!!

Brought on much later than the northern states, fall in Texas is not quite an impactful sight. The one thing that can’t be beaten though is the Texas sun; shining across expansive horizons all times of year, temperatures of the light shifting with the seasons. Orange evening sun stretches across the sky and seeps down in between the leaves speckled with changing colors while Joel’s truck coasts down the neighborhood street. Kids retreat from running around in the road when his car approaches, returning right back to their gameplay when he’s through. Half are dressed up, a medley mix of witches, zombies, vampires, Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Disney Princesses, and countless outfits that he has no idea what they’re referencing.

Fibrous, white faux spiderwebs litter the front porches of the houses lining the street, Jack-O-Lanterns carved and lit up stack on the stairs or create a path along the front walkways. Some of the pumpkins’ faces are wrinkly and sagging, signs of overeagerness from when the fall season started earlier this month. A handful of scarecrows find themselves pitched in the middle of yards with hay spilling out of them, and some of the houses have turned out an expense to get those motion-sensor decorations — the ones really intended to scare the kids that will be unleashed on the neighborhood to trick-or-treat this evening.

Rolling to a stop as he turns into the asphalt driveway, throwing the truck in park, he sits in the cab for a still moment, staring at the signs of life scattered around his family’s house. Four pumpkins, gutted and showing off their faces, a family feud that reached a compromise when it was decided that yes, they would carve pumpkins but no, they would not sit to rot on the front porch all month long; the corn stalks wrapped around the posts of the porch, tied with burlap twine and arranged with sprigs of fall foliage; pots of colorful mums framing the path up to the house, carefully selected by your eye and less delicately planted in their terracotta vessels by Joel’s hands. 

Aside from the seasonal decorations, the usual markings of the Miller family were easily spotted: chalk drawings on the shared sidewalk in front of the yard and along the driveway, replaced every weekend by Sarah once the old was washed or worn away; Ellie’s bike discarded on the front lawn, small tire tracks digging up the grass, no matter how many times Joel and you have asked her to put it away when she’s done; the porch swing that Joel built for you, swaying in the breeze and now unoccupied — unusual for the evening routine around the time that Joel comes home from work. He’s normally greeted by his girls, not merely their artifacts. But tonight is a different night, much busier than the slow, molasses life Joel gets to enjoy in the colder weather.

Gathering his lunch bag from the bench seat and bunching up his jacket in the same hand, Joel climbs out of the car and walks into the open garage, leaving his tools behind in the flatbed to be dealt with tomorrow morning. Passing your parked car, he shakes his head with a subtle smile as he closes the driver’s side door of your SUV left open. He can picture you now, running around after picking the girls up from school, mental space occupied by getting everything and everyone together to make it out the door before the sun went down completely. 

There’s a trail of evidence to support his musings: a lonesome plastic bag filled with groceries left on top of the car, Sarah’s purple jacket looped through the handle of the garage fridge, probably left behind after she went looking for a juice, and Ellie’s army green backpack tossed on the ground in front of the shoe racks lining the wall next to the door. None of that would fly had you been your usual focused self — more often than not, you’re the parent to put their foot down and keep the girls in line while Joel is the total pushover.

Along his way inside, he picks up all the left-behind items, balancing everything in his hands while he steps into the mudroom. Ellie’s backpack gets shoved into her designated cubby, and Sarah’s jacket gets wrapped on a hook screwed into the wall as Joel kicks off his work boots. After depositing his own belongings in their spots, lunch bag in his cubby and jacket on the hook next to Sarah’s, he grabs his boots in one hand, leaning out the doorway to place them on top of the shoe rack. Closing the door behind him, he picks up the singular bag of groceries left on top of your SUV and pads across the tile further into the house. Immediately, he’s embraced by the warmth radiating from the kitchen, the smells of tomatoes, onions, garlic, and more wafting into his nose causing a smile to stretch across his face and his stomach to rumble. 

Every year that he’s known you, without fail, you use Halloween night as an excuse to cook up your family-favorite chili recipe. Sure, it doesn’t get too cold for October in Texas, but damn, does he look forward to the night every year simply for a bowl of it. Laboring over the prep and slow-cooking it all day long, anyone who tries it can taste the care in each bite; like a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders that lasts with him for the entire evening spent outside with the kids.

The pleas of his stomach lead him straight into the kitchen, his smile growing wider when he sees you standing over the kitchen counter, affixing a sheriff badge to the cow print vest laid out in front of you. He strides over to your side, resting his palm on your lower back and swiping his thumb against the material of your shirt while he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head, drinking in your scent and feeling the ache of missing you all day. Losing focus from your task, you turn toward him with a bright smile, a quiet sigh leaving your lips, and your shoulders relaxing from their tensed position. Wordlessly, he folds forward, catching your lips in a lingering kiss. Heat pushes against his chest through his denim shirt, your hands skating from his pecs, up and across his shoulders, and down his arms to rest on his biceps. The motions raise goosebumps in their wake, trailing down his spine with a tepid drip.

Joel steals another kiss before he stands up straight again, voice rasping from yelling over powerful tools all day and volume low to keep the semblance of a private moment between the two of you for as long as possible; anything louder would expose his arrival, bombarding him with questions and conflicts to resolve between his daughters.

“Hey, baby.” He greets you with one fleeting kiss pressed to your forehead, hand at your lower back now rubbing side to side, fingers carefully lifting the fabric and pressing the tips of them into your deliciously soft skin. 

Turning back to the vest, you drop your hands from his arms not before giving them a gentle squeeze, “Hi, Joel. Good day?”

He shrugs, unable to step away from you just yet, “It was fine — much better now. And I take it yours has been a busy one?”

Joel holds up the plastic bag of groceries with two fingers, one corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. His hip pops out as he leans against the counter, the smirk turning into a smile when you grimace. His heartbeat skips when your laugh fills his ears, the sound still exciting him after all these years, and you stand over the bag to take a peek inside.

“S’all good. Non-perishables.” It’s Joel’s turn to laugh, shaking his head with a breathy chuckle as he places the bag on the counter, unloading its contents into the pantry while you go about recapping your day for him.

In the midst of you speaking, the tumble of footsteps down the stairs draws his attention away, eyes focusing on the open threshold that leads from the living room into the kitchen. As the quickened steps grow closer, Joel turns to you and holds up three fingers, counting down with them. When he lowers his last finger, a mop of curly hair, a bouncing ponytail, and a whirlwind of chaos disrupts the initial peace of his return home.

“Hi girls, how was today?” he starts before a cacophony of noise fills the kitchen. Skidding to a stop in front of him, he exchanges a look with you before facing his daughters, already overwhelmed with their two voices talking over the other.

“Dad, Dad, Sarah said—”

“Dad, Ellie’s saying that I said—”

Holding his hands up, he flicks his eyes between his two girls. Sarah, the older of the two at eleven years old, stands in front of him with her arms crossed and brow furrowed — a look he is all too familiar with, the similarities between him and her emphasized with her annoyance. Ellie, your youngest, stands with her fists clenched at her sides, her mouth twisted up in frustration and the same furrowed brow as her sister. She looks so much more like you at the moment, only a nine-year-old version, calling back on times Joel can remember of you giving him that very look.

However, with their tempers, there’s no doubt that they’re his kids.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath before addressing them.

“So, what’s going on now?” he asks, brows raising and head tilting when the girls each take a sharp inhale, about to speak over each other again, “One at a time. Ellie.”

Sarah rolls her eyes at her younger sister being called upon first, expectantly looking at her sister with annoyance still painting her face. Ellie shoots her a smug look before turning back to Joel, drawing a pout onto her lips to sell her story. He can’t say it doesn’t work for a second, it always will with these two and they know it, but with a quick glance in your direction, he sees you turned away from your task, watching the drama from the sidelines. Mustering the strength to stand his ground against the sweetness of his girls, he clears his throat and listens with his best poker face as Ellie begins explaining.

“Sarah said she wouldn’t trade all her Skittles for my Three Musketeers even though she knows I hate Three Musketeers and she said last week when we were getting our costumes that she would—”

“I never said that, Dad! She’s lying—” Sarah gestures with her hands as if to physically point out the obvious falsehoods in Ellie’s story. Spiraling back out of the fleeting control he had over the situation, the kids get riled up again, yelling over each other, and inching closer. The dad-instincts kick in and he grabs one of each of their shoulders, separating the two of them and turning them to face him again as he puts on what you affectionately call his ‘no-bullshit’ voice.

“Okay, okay, okay! Enough arguin’ about candy that you don’t even have yet. Ellie, you don’t even know if a single house is gonna give ya Three Musketeers, and you don’t even know if Sarah is gonna get any Skittles. Save the trade negotiations for tonight or tomorrow morning. ‘Sides, you gotta pay the Dad Tax before either of y’all get to trade around your pickings.”

“What?”

“No way!”

Joel smiles, waving his pointer finger between his daughters with a single nod of his head. “See? Something y’all can agree on. Now go get washed up for dinner and plot how you can hide your candy from me and Mom.”

As quickly as they came in, they rush right back out, this time a united force scheming against their parents. Joel huffs out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself as he turns back to face you. Met with a growing smile, you unravel your arms crossed in front of your chest to pick up the vest from the counter.

“Nice conflict resolution there, hon. Now I won’t see a single piece of candy.” You throw a pout at him, bottom lip jutting out as he steps over to you, one hand splaying on your hip and thumb rubbing languid circles.

“Don’t worry, baby, I think I know every single one of their hiding spots from how many times they had to move their candy last year. They won’t even notice anything's gone.” With a quick wink, he leans in for a kiss, short and sweet. Standing up straight, the smile on your face mirrors his, your left index finger reaching up to fit into the valley of his dimple.

“Are we bad parents to be scheming how to steal from our children?” you question, biting back a laugh.

“I think that’s just part of parenting, darlin’.”

The laugh you held back escapes you, rolling your eyes playfully at his facetious answer; the vest in your hands catches his eyes again, and he sighs to himself as he holds a hand out for it.

“So you really did find a cow print vest for me? How lucky.” Sarcasm coats his tone and you lift the material, depositing it in his open palm.

“It is lucky, isn’t it? I think you’re going to look great in your costume. Got all the perfect parts, plus you can wear your own jeans and boots. Economical.”

“You sure you need me for this group costume?”

“Joel. You’re literally one of the main characters from the damn movie. And the girls really want you to dress up and take them trick-or-treating. Plus it’s probably going to be one of, if not the last year that we get to do all this as a family. Our kids are growing up.”

“Don’t remind me, means m’getting older too,” he grumbles under his breath, eyes falling to the fabric in his hand.

It’s true what they say about having kids: the days are long, but the years are short.

At times, Joel wishes he could pull each hair out of his head instead of dealing with the shit his kids bring to him sometimes — “Dad, I got called into the principal’s office.” “Dad, I threw a softball and broke the window.” “That’s so unfair, Dad! Why do you have to be so mean?” It’s easy to get lost in the mess that is his family, but it’s a mess he loves. It feels like it was only yesterday that he was becoming a father when Sarah was born, getting a grasp on the whole thing and then Ellie came along. What he would do without you there by his side, he doesn’t have a clue.

Like flipping through a scrapbook, he can remember every year prior for his girls. In a flash, they’ve grown from dressing up as princesses and unicorns — a dragon for Ellie — to being Spy Kids and vampires. His oldest is verging on becoming a teenager, and if he knows his daughters, he knows that once Sarah quits dressing up each year, when she asks to go to her friends’ houses instead of spending the night with Mom and Dad, Ellie will want to do the same as her older sister, always looking up to her despite their differences.

There’s only so much more time for his kids to be kids, even if they may always feel like the tiny baby girls he held in his arms. All he wants to do is to protect them, keep them under his eye as long as he can, but he can hear your voice prying his grasp away from them, encouraging him to let them grow, let them experience the world as he got to do when he was younger. You’ll remind him that you were a teenage girl once, reassuring him that they’re always going to need him. He knows it’s all going to sneak up on him; one day, he’s going to pull into the driveway and notice the lack of chalk drawings. He might even be happy at first about Ellie’s bike being put away, but when he goes into the garage to work on some of his projects, he’ll notice the smallest bit of dust on it from disuse.

Stepping away from him to shuffle across the kitchen, you reach on your tiptoes to pull out four bowls from the cabinet. Joel steps over behind you, a hand on your back as he intercepts your movements, grabbing the ceramic dishes and handing them to you.

Like a shadow, he follows behind you as you walk over to the pot filled with dinner, eagerly watching over your shoulder with his chest pressed against your back and hands on your waist as you lift the lift. Aromas waft with the steam rising, the delectably rich dish slowly bubbling as it finishes melding altogether. It smells like home, always the mark of the changing of the seasons in the Miller household, and one of the little traditions that he so appreciates you creating for your family. Just like the way you make crinkle cookies and still sign presents from Santa at Christmas, despite the fact that your daughters found out about that a couple of years ago from a yappy kid at school.

Joel was very close to driving over to his house and letting his parents know how he felt about their kid murdering the magic of Christmas for his girls.

All he can hope is that these little traditions continue even when the girls are grown up; the four of you gathering around the table for your annual chili dinner before they head off to hang out with friends and you two are left to watch cheesy Halloween movies and hand out candy to children that remind you of your daughters.

With another deep breath, warmth surrounds him. Joel’s lips find the spot just under your ear, kissing gently before he rests his chin on your shoulder, “Smells so good, baby. Have I told you how much I love you?”

A breathy, incredulous laugh falls from your lips as you stir the pot’s contents around, your smile sticking around as you counter, “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m feeding you.”

A dramatic, exaggerated gasp sharply inhales into his lungs, standing up straight and patting his hands on your sides, “Absolutely not, darlin’. I love you all the time—”

“But especially when I feed you,” you finish, turning out of his arms to grab the stack of bowls. He stops your motions by wrapping his arms around your waist, feeling the press of you against his torso and relishing in the heat of your body against his. Curling up like a cat in the sun, he nudges his nose against your hairline, peppering kisses along the contours of your face.

In between kisses, he says word by word, over and over, “I. Love. You. My. Beautiful. Wonderful. Incredible. Wife.”

“Alright, alright! Gosh, you’re clingy,” you tease, leaning back to look into his eyes with a playful glint in your eye and a smirk held tight in your lips, “I love you too, my beautiful, wonderful, incredible husband.”

Your free hand smooshes his cheeks together and tugs him down gently to exchange a tender kiss. It ends much too soon for Joel, him chasing your lips and pouting when you turn away to start serving up dinner.

“Better go tell the girls dinner’s ready before they’ve finished plotting how to stow away candy in the floorboards.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, punctuating the conversation with a cheeky smack to your ass, scampering away quickly before you can pretend to scold him.

Tugging at the material across his stomach, Joel combs his eyes over his reflection in the mirror of your en-suite bathroom. Rolling his shoulders back, the fabric of the yellow and red plaid flannel pulled taut, lifting the hem a couple of inches and showing off the skin of his softened tummy. Dark curls of hair litter the center of the sliver of skin, trailing down under the waist of his dark wash jeans. He doesn’t bother tucking the shirt in, giving himself the breathing room of the few inches at the hem. Fingers grip the thick fabric, sharply pulling it back down to lay over his jeans again.

Picking up the cow-print vest you were adorned with the plastic gold Sheriff badge downstairs in the kitchen, he’s taken back to a few weeks ago at the Halloween store.

You and he had opted to spend Saturday morning taking Sarah and Ellie to pick out their costumes for the holiday, letting them run free until they decided on a shared costume for once. Sarah quickly picked out her size in the Jessie costume, and all of the family agreed to be different characters from the Toy Story movie.

Ellie wandered the aisles, searching for the perfect combinations to create her ideal costume, which was, of course, the mechanical spider toy with the baby doll head that the kid Sid builds in the film. She returns to where Joel is standing with you, staring at the walls of costumes to find something for the both of you; he looks down at his youngest, jumping minutely when he’s faced with a mutilated baby doll mask, shiny plastic reflecting him in the surface.

“Ellie. You can’t be the creepy baby doll,” he sighs, hand falling to his hip as he rests his weight on it, the other leg stepping out while he slowly shakes his head.

Tipping the mask up to the top of her head, Ellie stomps her feet, shoulders falling and head leaning back as she groans in complaint, “Why not, Dad?” She draws out his parental title, kicking the toe of her shoe against the buffed tiles of the storefront that remains empty eleven out of twelve months of the year.

“You’re gonna scare the little kids, and it’ll be your mom and I who are dealing with the angry parents.”

Ellie huffs out a breath, reaching up to snatch the mask off, turning on the heel of her sneaker, and stomping off to go find another costume. Turning his attention back to you at his side, he notices a cheeky smile on your face as you find your size in a woman’s Buzz Lightyear costume.

“What? What are you laughin’ at?” he questions, his lips tugging up in a grin.

“Oh, nothing. Jus’ that you told our daughter she can’t be the creepy baby doll 'cause you’d be the one scared of her.” A laugh takes over the end of your sentence, a flash of your bright smile widening his own.

“Did not. It’s ‘cause we’d have a bunch of crying little kids and judging parents to deal with.”

“Sure, honey, sure. It’s okay if you’re scared.”

Stepping closer to you, he pinches your side playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you against his side. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, speaking softly, “Know me too well, baby…”

Your free hand pats his chest affectionately and you unravel from his hold. Joel takes your hand before you get far, intertwining your fingers together while you both shuffle along the wall of costumes. The plastic bags shine, displaying cartoonish outfits of various characters. The exaggerated smiles of the models give him the heebie-jeebies, shuddering his shoulders at the thought that any grown person would be that excited to wear itchy polyester once before letting it collect dust in their closet and giving it away before next Halloween.

Halting in front of the costume you were looking for Joel, you bend down to flick through the sizes, your lips pulling together in a thoughtful pucker. Standing back up straight next to him, your teeth toy your bottom lip left to right, eyes scanning for any other options before you turn toward him.

“Can’t find what you’re lookin’ for, baby?”

With a shrug, you respond, “They have the costume the girls wanted you to wear, but they don’t have your size. Think I can find some stuff at the thrift store or TJ Maxx or online to make the costume up if that’s okay—”

“Whatever you need to do. S’fine.”

“I’m sorry, hon, but you don’t need to worry about it, I’ll find everything.”

“Said s’fine, darlin’. Don’t even need to dress up, really.” A small seed of shame is planted in his gut, insecurity watering it and causing it to grow, branching off to tangled in his chest. Comfort eases him out of the spiral when your hands find his chest, rubbing softly and tilting your head to meet his gaze with pure affection.

“Still gotta dress up with us, hon. Who’s gonna be the Woody to my Buzz if it isn’t you? Can’t dress up as one half of the best friend duo without my best friend,” you grin, standing on your toes to catch his lips in a gentle kiss, which ends too soon for his taste despite being in the middle of the shop.

Vest shrugged onto his shoulder, and he gives himself another once over in his full outfit, the same insecurity from a few weeks ago pouring down to cultivate his shame. He doesn’t look the same as he did when he met you, even the same as he did last year. Graying hair and salt and pepper beard, lines next to his eyes and across his forehead, only deepened when he furrows his brow at the look of him in his costume.

He looks ridiculous.

Better to get this night over with, let his girls enjoy themselves, and attempt to forget his discomfort in the outfit. Picking up his cheap cowboy hat that arrived in the mail earlier that week, he avoids another look in the mirror before he slips out of the bathroom, eyes focused on the toes of his boots while he walks out the door of your bedroom, past the full-length mirror next to your closet and the small round one on your vanity.

No need to foul his mood and spoil the fun. It’s for his girls. 

The screams and laughter of children echo into the deepening night sky, the street bright from the lamps lining it along with porch lights staying on, open garage doors, all signaling a welcoming to the trick-or-treaters to come and grab their haul from each vast bowl or cauldron of candy.

Blurs of costume cross below Joel’s sightline as he walks hand-in-hand with you, kids running around blindly, the safety of such a crowd in the small neighborhood blanketing them with trust that they’ll be able to find their way home wherever they end up. Sarah and Ellie are ten paces ahead, moving quickly and efficiently to “maximize their candy collection”. Ellie’s words, after she presented her hand-drawn map of their neighborhood and the one across the main road, highlighting which houses are notorious for King Size treats and noting which ones give out toothbrushes or nothing at all.

The collar of his flannel is tightened around his neck from the string of his chestnut cowboy hat. Pulled down to rest on his clavicle, the body of the hat swings against his back as he walks, only adorning the top of his head for a few photos that you insisted on dragging out the tripod and self-timer for in the middle of the living room. He took the rest of the photos you wanted, maybe a bit too eagerly getting out of the frame and relaxing the slightest bit behind the camera. Photo evidence of how laughable he looks does not need to exist en masse. With a sigh, he reaches a hand up to tug the string down for what feels like the tenth time in thirty minutes of walking, relief felt for a few seconds before it slides back up to the base of his throat, flipping up the collar of his shirt with it.

Denim from his dark wash bootcut jeans starts to dig into his hips, roughening the skin there from his strides and their inch-too-small size from the year prior. These were deemed his “nice” jeans, per your request, only pulled out a handful of times a year for occasions that he was meant to look nicer than his raggedy Levi’s, covered in spots from paint, wood stain, oil, or dirt, the fraying, white strings hanging from the hems and ripping when caught under his step — all the signs of his day-to-day life. What he’s comfortable in.

These — these are not comfortable, not worn in enough to feel buttery against his skin, and not returning to his size even after washing and line drying. These are stiff, formed to his skin and resisting a tightness with each swing of his legs. The fresh material rubs against his bare skin underneath, the waist of his boxers falling an inch or two down to create the perfect space for the waistband to chafe. He’s tempted to pause the two of you walking along, long enough to tuck in the material of the flannel, but quickly decides against it when he thinks about the exaggeration of his stomach with the form-fitting, tucked shirt stretched over it.

Occupied in his thoughts, he barely notices that you've slowed down until you come to a stop at the end of a driveway, two streets over from your own home, waiting as your daughters wait in line for their packaged sugar. 

You hold onto his bicep with your opposite hand, leaning your weight against his side. Like a weighted blanket, in the interim of a hug from you, he takes on the change to his equilibrium, relishing in the comforting press of your body against him. Easing away his anxieties and his insecurities that, of course, had to be present for this wholesome, once-a-year family night; he rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your rosemary and mint shampoo, tingling his nostrils and drinking down the scent he��s so familiar with.

His focus draws to Sarah, hair in a French braid pulled away from her face and cherry red cowboy hat on her head, and Ellie, lime green face paint that she insisted on and an antenna sticking up from the top of her head and exaggerated, pointed green ears all attached to the same headband. The two of them are near the front of the queue for candy at this particular house, the process a bit more involved with a haunted graveyard required to pass through to earn your sweet reward. 

All she’d been saying the whole night since getting dressed had been “The claaaaaw!” or “I have been chosen!”. She screams the latter in the face of a teenager who pops out from a bush to scare her, completely unphased as she sneaks past him, grabbing a handful of candy for her and Sarah, running back down the path with her older sister before they pause to distribute the goods.

Joel lifts your joined hands, hooking his arm over your shoulder and laying your arm across your chest as he gathers you closer.

“So how many cavities do you think we’ll be paying for ‘cause of tonight’s candy haul?” he wonders aloud, a smile ticking up the side of his mouth when you giggle at his joke. It never gets old, being able to make you laugh, and it’s like a weed whacker to the strangling vines of his insecurities growing tightly in his chest. A looseness that gives him the chance for a deep breath, gratitude wilting the branches as he studies the grin on your face, the admiration twinkling in your eyes.

“Probably should be callin’ the dentist to see if they have a two-for-one discount.” It’s his turn to laugh at your response, tautening his arm around your shoulders to tow you closer to him, your head tilting back as you swing your front toward him. Joel bends his neck, pecking your lips with a smile before he looks back toward his daughters walking back to the two of you.

Annoyance thumbs the bruise of shame, driving his frustrations higher; his hand reaches up again with a huff, yanking the string away from his neck, “Thing’s like a damn noose…”

“Jus’ take it off, hon, I’ll carry it for you,” you sweetly suggest, swinging your joined hands between your bodies.

“But, you got it for me…” he mumbles guiltily, a worry in his voice over your potential irritation with him. Ever the masochist, Joel argues with you, not wanting to disappoint. He knew he should have just kept his mouth shut—

Pausing in your steps, you hang behind him long enough to snatch the hat off his back, releasing it from around his neck and depositing it on your head in one smooth movement. Taking his hand again, you continue, unphased by his complaints and happy to hold onto the new accessory.

At the next house, the two of you wait at the end of the driveway for the girls; Joel taps the side of his pointer finger on the brim as you look up at him, a cheeky smile growing on his face as a thought distracts from his festering doubts. His voice lowers, rasping as he speaks only to you, attempting to disguise the conversation from all the people milling about.

“Y’know, there are consequences for stealing a cowboy’s hat, baby.” Wetting his lips with the quick swipe of his tongue, his hands drift to your waist, fingers stretching to skim the top of your ass, dangerously close to grabbing a handful in front of everyone.

“M’well aware of those consequences, cowboy. Why d’you think I took it?” You shoot him a wink that goes straight down below the belt, a brazen flash of mischief in your eyes, the reflections of yellow lamplight lighting them up further. 

Gripping his biceps, your nimble fingers squeeze gently while your thumbs rub massaging circles into his slightly flexed muscles. A nearly inaudible hum of a moan rolls from your chest, one of his hands gathering the polyester material of your dress tightly at the sound. Beckoning him to fold forward with one look, he molds his lips to yours in a supple kiss. It lasts only the length of an inhale, drinking in the taste of your lips before your warmth is fleeting, hands patting his chest in a signal to wrap it up.

He grumbles, irritation heating under his collar as he itches to get home and for the night to be over, now for more than one reason. You laugh softly at his annoyed pout, poking his chest as you tease, “What? Mad ‘cause you got a snake in your boot?”

“More like in my jeans…” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough for you to hear and playfully jab his arm, shaking your head as you breathe out a chuckle from your nose.

“Nice, Miller. In a costume for a kid’s movie no less.”

He matches your laugh, shrugging when you turn in his arms, back to him as you await your daughters to make their way back to the both of you. His arms drape around your hips, tugging you into his chest to press against him comfortably, the plush-filled wings of your costume padding you against his torso. Lips find your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he responds, “What’s the saying from the movie? To infinity and beyond? Reckon that’s where I’ll be takin’ you by the end of tonight.”

“Joel!” you attempted to chide, your laughter exposing your real feelings over the suggestive comment, laying your arms over his. The girls walk toward the two of you, and he takes a second to press an open-mouth kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin before unfurling himself from you. A light smack on the side of your ass is the punctuation to the teasing, Joel standing up straight and taking your hand.

“Giddy-up, partner,” he murmurs before turning his attention to Sarah and Ellie, overly excited and completely calm. “Whatcha y’all get this time? Anything good?”

They answer over each other and he nods along, corralling them to start to walk to the next house, “Alright, mission accomplished at this house. Onto the next, we gotta get this wagon a-movin’! Only got another hour in me, girls.”

Protests whine against his announcement and your daughters start to walk faster, determined to complete their hit-list for the houses with the good stuff. You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as Joel looks over at you, feigning innocence.

“What? Got a bad back, bein’ out in the cold makes it worse.”

Now back at home, the four of you are gathered in the living room, costumes all on still as you seek out the comfort and warmth of the soft furnishings and blankets. Joel lounges on the couch, you next to him, back leaning against his side while your legs stretch out on the rest of the sofa. Ellie and Sarah have taken to the floor in front of the coffee table, massive pillowcases dumped out and beginning to be sorted. Every so often, you or Joel get up with the sound of the doorbell, passing out candy to the dwindling number of trick-or-treaters. Eventually, the intrusion stops completely, the TV playing a bad, kitschy Halloween movie per the request of the girls.

They trade their earnings, and you and Joel steal on the sly, both from the bowl you were handing out and from Sarah and Ellie’s piles. Wrappers are strewn around the floor and across the surface of the coffee table, the sound of another torn open by the girls making you sigh and sit up.

Holding out your hand, you shake your head, beckoning for the treat with your fingers, “Okay, Ellie. No more candy. You’re not going to be able to go to sleep if you keep eating it now, it’s too late.”

Ellie whines, rolling her head back with a groan before pleading her case, “Please, Mom, just this last one! And then I’ll be done, promise. Please.”

Joel chuckles when she shoots you the same puppy dog eyes that he gives to you to get what he wants, knowing his smirk grows wider when you fold easily. Shooting your head over to him, you announce to the whole room, “No more candy for anyone. C’mon girls, put it all back in your bags.” 

Calmness finds itself back in the room once all the complaints are lodged with you, the girls lying down to watch the movie while you continue to sit with Joel. Spaced out as he focuses on the film, his attention is grabbed when he hears the crinkle of wrappers and glances around to find all three of his girls indulging further.

With the remote from his lap, he pauses the movie, pouting as he exclaims, “Hey! What happened to not havin’ any more candy? If I can’t have anymore, y’all can’t either.”

Sneaking the last bite of her fun-size Snickers bar, Ellie giggles and shrugs, always the smart aleck, “Well, you are gettin’ a little pudgy, Dad, maybe less candy’ll help.”

Sarah and you giggle at her lighthearted teasing, and Joel waves it off with a breathy chuckle, leaning back against the cushions as Sarah chimes in with her jests, “Yeah, think you’re getting a little fluffy, Dad. Better to lay off now than at Christmastime with all Mom’s cookies.”

Joel attempts to defend himself from the teasing by threatening their candy supply, eager to end the conversation as the back of his neck heats up, “If m’already gettin’ pudgy then I guess that permits me to eat all your candy.”

They both are in a fit of giggles, continuing to tack on silly comments as Joel sits quietly on the couch, trying to mask the way the words worm their way in, feeding the shame and insecurity that was already festering in his chest from the last few weeks.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a smile as you laugh softly, “Alright, alright, enough. Think that’s the sign that it’s time for bed. C’mon, up up up.” Before standing, you pat Joel’s thigh and shoot him a carefully concerned look, but he wipes away your worry by sending you a warm smile back, laying his hand over yours and squeezing gently. 

Joel stays downstairs to clean up, the girls both saying goodnight before you follow them upstairs to get them ready for bed. Gathering candy wrappers in his fists, he throws them away in the kitchen, stomach rolling as he replays the small comments from minutes ago. He knows it was teasing, all in good fun as it always is between his girls and you, but he can’t shake the heaviness inside of him, the hot prickles of shame when he passes by the mirror in the hallway on his way back to the living room.

The bowl of extra candy you were handing out gets placed back on the coffee table, his silly cowboy hat from the evening deposited on top of it to hide the contents. Not that he was going to eat anymore, he couldn’t stomach even the thought of anything else when all he could think about was how much he desperately wanted to shed his skin at that moment. Breathing shallows when he settles on the couch again, one of his hands pressing onto the left side of his chest and willing his heart to slow down, for his brain to silence itself.

The skin of his palm meets the scruff of his beard, scratching against the roughened, worked skin. Grays in his hair, salt and pepper beard, wrinkles on his forehead and at the side of his eyes, softened tummy from years of love and care, from an easy life with you.

He certainly isn’t the same Joel that you met all that time ago, that you fell in love with. Have you noticed the changes as much as he has?

He swears you haven’t aged a day; all the more beautiful with each passing day.

Light steps carry you back downstairs, the sound shaking Joel out of his thoughts as you swing around from the staircase and through the entrance to the living room. Joel relaxes on the couch, the same spot he was occupying before, only sinking further into the cushion, shifting to pull the fabric of his shirt away from his stomach. Glancing up at you, away from whatever was playing on the TV that did nothing to distract him from himself, he sends you a tight smile, stretching an arm over the back of the couch to welcome you in.

Accepting it, you sit next to him, curling up into his side with your legs under you, leaning against his frame with your comforting weight. Your hand rests on his chest, your head on his shoulder while you both watch the TV movie playing. Silence falls between the two of you, minutes passing by with only the noise from the speakers, the volume turned low so as not to disturb the kids upstairs.

Joel feels your hand move against his chest, curling up to leave your pointer finger extended, the pad of it skimming against his flannel. He ignores the feeling, figuring it’s you fidgeting as you do while you focus. The same thing as twirling your hair while you’re reading, tapping your foot as you cook.

But when your hand stairs to wander, his eyes flick down to watch its path, your gaze still facing forward and quiet. With your thumb and index finger, you work open the first button on his shirt, trailing down with the rest undone in your route. Slipping under the material, your cold hand presses against his chest, nails scraping against the skin there. With a sigh at the contact, Joel finally uses his hand to gently caress your chin, turning you to face him.

Low and rasping, he questions, “What are you doin’ exactly, darlin’?”

Innocently, you shrug, bottom lip bit down on while your touch moves lower again, skimming across his stomach and reaching the waistband of his jeans, “Well, I still have to face the consequences from stealin’ your hat, cowboy.”

Fingers dip below his belt line, toying with the elastic band of his boxers. Slipping away, he almost protests at the loss, biting his tongue when you move next to him, sitting up on your knees while both hands reach for the button and zipper of his jeans. When his button pops from its secure place, he warns with a breathy exhale, “Baby…”

“Mhm, yes, honey?” you reply, words trailing up at the end, feigning naivety. Through your lashes, you send him a pout, tongue poking out to dampen your plush lips that he stares at, his mouth parted with heavy breaths. His blood is rushing from his head, leaving him feeling light, as it all pumps to his cock, your delicate and teasing touches getting him half-hard.

Before you can tug down his zipper, you pause, taking your hands off of him; he holds back a whimper, the sound dying as a low hum in his throat.

“Don’t worry, baby, m’not done yet. Let’s go to our room, yeah?” Your voice is soothingly saccharine, an eager nod being his only response. 

Shutting off the TV, you stand from the sofa and take his hand, snatching the cowboy hat from the coffee table before pulling him to stand and follow you across the main floor, down the hallway into your first-floor bedroom. Joel shuts the door behind him, your nod toward the handle serving as a reminder for him to flick the lock.

 “Y’know, honey, you’re always showing me how you feel about me. I think it’s time we had a night that’s all about you…” He’s holding in a breath as you stalk closer to him, shaking his head as the back of his neck heats up.

“No, baby, you don’t—I don’t…” he stutters before trailing off, ashamed that he can’t think of any other excuse than the truth of why he does not want the attention on him tonight.

“You don’t…?” Running your hands across the expanse of his chest, he drops his shoulders in, curling around to make himself smaller, one foot stepping back but he doesn’t move from under your touch.

Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, faintly confiding, “I don’t feel like I deserve it. I jus’, I’d rather give to you, baby.”

“Oh, Joel…you deserve it and more, honey. Why wouldn’t you?” Your fingers graze up, skating across his skin and carding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not…not the same. I don’t look like who you fell in love with. Everything’s changing, catching up to me. Got gray hair and white in my beard and wrinkles and a beer belly startin’ and my back hurts all the time. M’not who I used to be but you—”

“Have changed, too. It’s not just you, Joel. Everything’s a little softer now, I’ve got wrinkles too. Found like four gray hairs yesterday and had a mild panic attack before I got into the shower. M’curvier and—”

“And you’re fucking beautiful, baby. You’re as beautiful, if not more beautiful than the day I met you.” He’s quick to defend your negative self-talk, his hands running delicately along the curves of your sides and around your lower back. Enveloping you in his arms, he presses your foreheads together, nose notched next to yours.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Joel. Don’t listen to us teasin’ you, especially me, ‘cause I wouldn’t change a thing about you…” As you tilt your head back, your nose grazes against his cheek, feeling a rush of heat from your breath as your lips hover over his, deliciously close to a kiss, “Can I show you what I think about you, honey?”

Joel nods, wordlessly waiting in anticipation; in the next breath, your lips crash into his, drinking him down deep while the hand at the back of his head tangles further into his hair and tugs. He moans, parted lips allowing you to lick into his mouth, whining at the taste of him before you push the flannel material from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as you continue to dominate the kiss.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. Joel follows your lead, carefully moving backward, your tongue melding with his. All he can focus on is the taste of you — sweet, fruity, with the tang of citric acid from all the sour candies you stole from the bowl, the softest hint of chocolate as an aftertaste from his indulgences. The flavors of you coat his mouth, the scent of your perfume and shampoo mixing in his nose, and the feeling of your soft skin in his rough palms when he hikes up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass; it all stirs together, creating an intoxicating cocktail of you that he can seem to taste enough of. Joel’s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he’s being pulled away from your mouth with a pop when you ease him to sit down. Curiosity flashes in his mind, the sight of you over him with kiss-swollen lips growing the bulge in his undone jeans. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, beautiful?” His voice is lecherous as it comes out in a rasp, dripping with desire and a bit of wonder over what exactly you’re going to do with your night in control.

You shake your head at him, standing up straight and reaching for his hands, placing them at the hem of your dress, “Go ahead, baby. Take off as much as you want.”

His choice is obvious, tugging the fabric over your head with your help, a hand around your back yanking you to stand close, between his spread legs, while his fingers work open the clasp of your bra. Sitting back on his hands, he observes greedily as you let the straps fall down your arms, dropping the bra entirely onto the floor.

“These too?” Your thumbs hook into the waistline of your panties, doe-eyed and biting down on your body lip teasingly. Cotton-mouthed, Joel nods slowly, lips parted with shaking breath as you strip completely, sinking to your knees in front of him before he can reach out for a handful of your curves.

He lets you work his jeans down to his thighs, his boxers following in their wake, his cock springing free against his bare stomach. You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, the need to see every single one of your movements outweighing the drying of his eyes with his slow, infrequent blinking. Scooting to settle comfortably on your knees, you stand up straighter, gaining enough height to bend your head over his lap, lips meeting his soft tummy and hands gripping onto his thighs. Delicate kisses and ghosting touches on his skin raise goosebumps, a warm shudder trickling down his back at your tenderness.

“So handsome…” you whisper, grazing your teeth into the flesh of his torso, biting down to nip. “Y’know I think about doin’ this all the time, baby. Every time you take off your shirt, jus’ wanna sink my teeth into you.”

His cheeks heat with sincere attention, muscles in his abdomen flexing when you litter lovebites and heated, open-mouth kisses all over him, the gentle touches and desire to relax his anxieties slowly. The focus on your mouth drops to his thighs, turning your head to the side when you sit back on your haunches, licking a stripe up toward his aching cock, a quivering exhale from his mouth drawing your eyes to his face. A satisfied smile stretches across your face, kissing his inner thigh before mirroring the actions on the opposite side. His fingers curl into the duvet, gripping hard as your lips wander closer to where his stiff cock drips needily, throbbing for any kind of reprieve.

“You’re so pretty, baby. So strong, solid.” The sweet nothings tickle at the back of his neck, words that he’s sure you’ve spoken before, but at this moment, they raise his body temperature and lighten his head, the only thoughts being how much he needs you.

Standing on your knees again, you bend your neck over Joel’s lap, eyes flickering up to his face to look at him through your lashes. Your lips part, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto his waiting cock, the sensation making him hiss with urgency. One of your hands wraps around him and strokes slowly. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. One swipe of your thumb across his tip drags the beads of pre-cum from where they’re leaking, melting them into the mix of your saliva that lubricates your motions.

Searing needles pierce into his skin when you finally give in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin of his swollen length. Your thumb brushes against his tip again, another hiss of pleasure escaping from between his teeth. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you to ground himself.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the fresh dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. Humming satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, he looks down at you meeting his gaze, feeling the splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration of your light teasing. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’, please.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, and he’s lost in the delicious warmth of your mouth, unabashed in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Starting a slow bob up and down, he moans at the weight of him on your tongue, saliva coating the underside of his cock as he feels you curl the muscle against every vein. With half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t initially fitting inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, hyperaware that his cheeks are likely visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” You shift in your position slightly, thighs rubbing together and a chuckle rolls from his lips, smug in the need he’s drawing from you simply from enjoying his pleasure. A sigh exhales around him in your mouth as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your aches.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan rumbling from his chest, the reverberations sending aftershocks to the tips of his ears. At that point, he gets lost in the high feeling, his composure leaving him when his large hand at the back of your head pushes you down onto his cock, taking him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me,” he whines, heading tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut, shallow thrusts meeting the rhythm of your head. “Gonna fuckin’ come, baby, holy fuck, I—”

A moan around him gurgles to nothing when he thrusts again, hand tangled in your hair pulling you back until his tip rests against your lips, “Don’t wanna—please—” His words are lost on the tip of his tongue, pleasure hazing his mind as he searches for the plea he wants to make with you.

You giggle from your knees, swiping your fingers to wipe away the drool from the corners of your mouth, a satisfied smirk on your face. Bracing yourself on his thighs, you push yourself up, standing in between his legs while your hands find his shoulders, scraping your fingernails against the curve of them.

“You wanna come inside of me? Not my mouth? Is that what you were trying to say, baby?”

“Yes,” he exhales, relieved to find the word he needed, blinking open his eyes to look up at you. Your thumb skates across his bottom lip, holding onto his jaw as you study his features.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Joel. Anything for my perfect, doting husband. D’you know how fucking good it makes me feel to make you feel good?” you question curiously, tilting his head as he lets you mold him whichever way you want. “Tell me how you deserve to have me like this. ‘Cause you’re so fucking good to me, tell me that you’re gonna let me fuck you, let me take your come inside of me.”

“Baby, I don’t think that—” he starts, palms pressing into the backs of your thighs as he looks up at you.

“Tell me, Joel. You said you wanted to be the one giving to me tonight. That’s what I want.” You use his earlier, shy request against his negative thoughts, and the intensity in your eyes bends him to your will.

“M’gonna let you have my cock, gonna let you fuck me and show me how much you love when I take care of you.” The words roll foreignly on his tongue, unconvincing coming from his mind to his mouth. You bend a knee, bringing it up to rest next to his thigh, nodding along to encourage him to continue, “I give you whatever I can give to you, and always gonna, baby. Now’s your turn to take care of me, right?”

“That’s right, honey. I should show you how much I appreciate you more often…you work so hard, give us exactly what we need, and provide for us. My big, strong man. You do so much for me, baby. Gonna show you how thankful I am for you, how grateful I am that you’re lettin’ me have this cock,” your words breathe hot against his ear, your other leg now straddling him on the bed, cunt hovering over his waiting cock. A hand leaves his shoulders, reaching between your stomachs to wrap around him, guiding him to your entrance. His breath catches in his throat when you ease down onto him, pushing through the wet seal of your slit.

Wet heat envelopes him, taking in a few inches of him; Joel groans under you, head falling forward onto your breasts, forehead pressed into your sticky skin. One hand tangles into his curls, dragging his head back to look into your eyes. Your hips start to move, adjusted to his size easily and taking more of his cock, letting it split you open inch-by-inch. His eyes wildly search yours, seeing the pleasure overtake your mind, lips parting to match his as you both breathe out shallow, hot breaths.

“Fuck, Joel, so fucking big…” you whine for the first time tonight and the sound goes straight to his cock, twitching him inside of you as his hips jerk up, giving you another inch. Lust clouds his mind, nodding confidently as you take him, desperate to feel your tight, dripping cunt around him entirely.

“I know, baby, I know. Should’ve let me get you ready. But I bet you like the stretch, like a lil’ bit of pain, huh?” he coos, arm snaking around you to hold you closer, your eyes fluttering closed above him as you nod languidly.

“Fuckin’ love it, makes it feel even better,” you whimper when his arm tugs you down further, only an inch or two away from him being fully sheathed.

“C’mon, be my good girl, baby. Show me how you sit on my cock.” He leans forward, bending you backward with his force and holding you tight, his lips attaching to the soft, velvety skin of your breasts and biting, “Gotta face your punishment for stealin’ my hat. Take a cowboy’s hat, gotta ride the cowboy, babygirl. I don’t make the rules.”

You giggle, eyes clearing as you’re pulled out of your cloud of pleasure, gripping onto his shoulders and holding eye contact as you finally sink completely down, burying Joel’s cock inside your soaked pussy. Moans echo in the room, bitten down before they get too loud, your hips immediately finding a quick, sloppy pace to chase your highs. The slick glide of your walls grip his cock lusciously, your flooding arousal coating his balls as thighs as you ride him. Little noises slip from your mouth, simmering the coals burning in the base of his gut as he feels the familiar bliss building.

“Is this what I’m supposed to be doin’, cowboy?” you wonder, hips continuing their pace and mouth twisting as you hide a smile. Joel is unashamed, a wide grin on his face as he unravels one arm from you, picking up the hat from the corner post of the bed, and setting it loosely on top of your head. Giggles erupt from the both of you, your pace faltering as the muscles in his stomach cramp from use. 

Recovering from the interlude, your thighs rub against the outside of his as you bounce, nails digging into his shoulders as your rhythm picks back up, the slap of skin against skin the only noise save for your airy breaths that get shallower and shallower. Flames have ignited in his gut, licking inside and burning hotter and hotter the closer he gets. Nearly at the edge, he needs more, body taking over and lifting you with him as he stands, holding you up on his cock as he thrusts hard and quick into you, dripping for him and gripping him tight to keep yourself up while he fucks into you.

“Oh—fuck, Joel! Right there, m’gonna—oh!” Your desperate pleas in his ear pitch up as you moan, cunt tightening with a flutter around him as you come, soaking his dick as he continues his hard pace, selfishly chasing his high. 

A growl rolls from his chest when you come, his fingernails biting into the flesh of your ass, the slap of his balls against your skin as they draw up. His eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name, the first rope of his come released into your cunt, smaller whimpers following in its wake as he fucks one, twice more, filling you up as deep as he can.

Limbs feeling heavy, he turns you both around, pulling you off of him and dropping you gently onto the mattress. He flops down next to you onto his stomach, blissfully out of it as you move to straddle his back, fingers working the knots and soothing the aches growing there after a long week of work, and a night spent corralling your kids.

The warm press of your body against his back makes him hum contently, your breasts at his shoulder blades as you lay on him, one of his hands reaching the rub his fingers softly against the outside of your thigh.

“You know I think you’re the most handsome, right, honey?” you ask with a hint of worry in your voice, barely above a whisper. He nods, rolling over to his back underneath you and meeting your eyes, brow furrowed with concern.

“I know, baby. Jus’ was feeling weird this whole week. You made it a lot better, though.” A knuckle nudges your cheek, and you take the hat off, Joel chuckling again as you throw it off to the side of the bed. Laying down on him again, he strokes your hair while you hug yourself to his torso, both your eyes and his fluttering shut with exhaustion, from tonight and life in general.

Before drifting off, Joel speaks up, cheekily asking, “So…can I wear this costume next year, too?”

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[angelltheninth]

Honkai Star Rail Men + Showing Affection

Pairing: Blade, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, teasing, hand-holding, cuddles, sitting in their lap, playful biting, gift giving, domestic fluff, protectiveness, clothes sharing

A/N: Thinking about the little ways these guys would show you they love you. This is a repost, I don't know what happened to the original one but suddenly it wasn't on my blog anymore, sorry about blogging it twice.

Blade always keeps his hands on you, literally always no matter what. He needs you to know that he is always by your side, always there to support and protect and have you when ever you need him in whatever way you need him. Privacy? What is that? He can best show you how much he cares by always being there. When he's not there he likes sending you texts, anything to let you know that he's thinking of you when you're apart and then giving you a big kiss when you see him again.

Caelus likes to craft you little gifts that you can put around your house. Honesty they're not the best decorations but they're from him so you don't have the heart to tell him you don't want them. Besides you get to see his face light up when ever you accept a gift from him and that's the true gift as long as you're concerned. When you give him something he looks at it like its his biggest treasure, like he's gonna make it his family heirloom, your- eh, no, no, forget that, his family, yeah only his... he's not thinking that far ahead.

Dan Heng pulls you against his chest when you're alone, kissing you so hard he takes your breath away. He knows he should slow down but you have precious little time so he wants to make sure his love always comes across. Kissing you is his favorite thing in the world, not just kissing your lips but your cheek, your neck, your wrists in particular, slow kisses on your eyelids as they flutter against his lips, kisses on your shoulders and ears and further down even, but that's only for when you're done with work.

Gepard stands up for you in any situation no matter what, wearing his title of protective boyfriend with as much pride as his family name. He straightens up his back and holds your hand with his, the other on his weapon, ready to strike, his eyes the color of a dark stormy sky. Knowing that you're watching, that you're seeing his devotion and valor and love for you, that's what gives him his strength against any opponent. And he knows that if he gets hurt you'll be by his side until he recovers.

Jing Yuan loves cuddling with you literally anywhere. Its all fair game to the general, as are you, your body fitting perfectly onto his lap, on top of him, into his wandering hands and against his daring lips which he playfully nips at your skin with. If he could freeze time and exist with you in this moment, unbothered by everything else and indulge his deepest desires with you for the rest of his life then he would ask for nothing else in the word ever again.

Welt shares all his clothes with you, half the closet is yours anyways so why should it matter if you put one of his shirts on by accident? It doesn't matter, he is yours, and he loves seeing you wearing his shirts and pants and vests. There's no better sight then him waking up to you in his sleeping shirt, having stolen it off the edge of the bed where he threw it last night and putting his glasses onto his face while giving him a small kiss on the forehead.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #blade x reader #caelus x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #welt x reader #honkai star rail x you #blade x you #caelus x you #dan heng x you #gepard x you #jing yuan x you #welt x you #welt yang x reader #honkai x reader #hsr headcanon #hsr imagine #hsr fluff #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanon #hsr x female reader #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail fluff

[sebscore]

PRIZE OUT

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader 

warnings: rbr. mention of horner and marko. this doesn't really have a plot, tbh- just felt like writing it. 

author's note: idk how this came to me, but it did in the middle of the night and i hope you enjoy it as well. also, the way i keep writing things that no one requested- i know yall hate me. 

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Yeah, I'll let you know. Goodbye, bye.'' Charles hung up the phone, sighing loudly as he put it back in his pocket. His mother watched him, frowning at her son's obvious frustration. ''What is it, Charles?'' She asked him, slight concern in her voice. 

''I have to let them know who my plus-one is for the FIA Prize Giving this week, but I have no date.'' He explained, his hand going through his hair. 

Pascale chuckled, relieved it wasn't some bigger issue her son was dealing with. ''I thought you were about to reveal a big crisis to me, but it's just about finding you a date.'' She laughed, much to Charles' dismay. 

''It's serious, Maman!'' He exclaimed. ''Normally I would take Charlotte, but you know…'' the couple hadn't split for too long, the topic still a bit sensitive for him, ''maybe you can go with me? You love Italy!'' 

The offer was tempting, but Pascale had a better idea. ''How about you take your sister with you? She likes dressing up and the two of you will get to spent some time together.'' She suggested. 

Charles thought for a moment, thinking about the idea. His little sister would indeed enjoy going to a formal event like this and with her by his side, it would be way less boring than usual. 

''Yeah, I'll ask her.'' He smiled. 

His mother walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, putting her arms around him. ''Oh, that's so great! My two babies!'' Pascale beamed. ''And she's been so stressed with her exams coming up, it will take her mind off of that.'' 

''I'll go ask her then.'' Charles got up from his seat, wanting to move to his sister's room. However, his mother's voice stopped him in his tracks. ''Oh, don't forget that we have dinner with Ollie's parents Monday night.'' She told him. 

''I didn't know about that.'' He furrowed his eyebrows, confused on why this is the first he has heard of it. 

''That's why I'm telling you about it now.'' Pascale retorted, matter-of-factly.

Charles had the urge to roll his eyes, but managed to hold himself in. ''So who's coming? The five of us, and then him and his family?'' 

''Y/N, me, you, Lorenzo and Arthur is also bringing Carla, and then Ollie is coming with his parents.'' She replied, getting up from the couch. 

''Aren't they from England?'' 

''Yeah, but they're in Monaco for the Formula 3 Prize Ceremony on Sunday.'' Pascale clarified for him, amused by his attempt to appear uninterested. ''Charles, I know you're not too happy about your sister dating, but he's a good kid and I want you on your best behaviour Monday.'' 

''I just don't want her to get hurt. This is her first relationship and it's long distance so I'm just looking out for her.'' Charles didn't have anything against the young Brit, he really didn't. Ollie is a polite guy and from what he has seen, he has a bright future ahead of him as a driver.

But he's her big brother and even the mere thought of his baby sister getting hurt by anyone breaks his heart. Charles knows she'll have a hard time with Ollie being away so much, because he knows the experience himself. Yes, there are many drivers who are able to make long distance relationships work, but most of them are adults. She's 17 years-old and still in school, she shouldn't be stressing about what her boyfriend is up to on the other side of the world. 

''Trust me, Chérie- I don't want her to get hurt either, but we can't stop her from experiencing life. Whatever is meant to be will happen, whether it works out with the kid or not. Until then, I want everyone to be as supportive as they can be.'' Pascale understood his worries, she shared them with him. Y/N is her youngest and only daughter, she wants to protect her girl from all the evil in the world. However, shielding her away from everything will do more bad than good. 

Charles nodded at her words, knowing she's right. ''I know, I am supportive of them, but if that little guy makes her cry, I'll give him something to cry about.'' He tried sounding scary, clenching his jaw. 

His mother simply laughed. ''I think that 'little guy' is a bit taller than you, Charlie.'' 

''Oh, whatever.'' 

''That's the Red Bull car?'' Y/N observed the winning machinery that was displayed for everyone to see at the FIA event. 

Charles looked from his sister, to his rivals' car, to her again. ''Yup, that's the one.'' 

''It's kinda ugly.'' The blunt comment made the Ferrari driver snort, garnering some weird looks from bypassers and other drivers. 

''Be careful, Y/N!'' He hushed her, putting his hand over her mouth. ''Don't get us in trouble.'' 

''It's the truth, though.'' 

''I know, but just keep it in your head.'' 

The siblings walked further into the building, Charles greeting some people he recognised here and there. Y/N held onto her brother's hand for dear life, her anxiety going through the roof. It wasn't just the large space with all the strangers that was freaking her out, it was also the new pair of heels she was rocking. 

Charles glanced at the shoes. ''Why didn't you wear flats? I don't want you to break your ankles.'' 

''I wanted to look a little taller next to you and they go well with my dress.'' She answered him, a bit agitated by his questioning. ''Let's link our arms, if I fall- you fall.'' Y/N did as she said and put her arm around Charles'. 

Her brother laughed, momentarily patting her hand. ''How about no falling at all?'' 

They arrived at the big hall where someone led them to their seats at one of the many tables present in the room. Seated on the table next to them was the RBR family: Max, Checo, Christian Horner, Helmet Marko and their significant others who subtly greeted the Leclercs upon seeing them. 

''You look really pretty, Y/N.'' Kelly complimented the young girl as they walked past them. 

Y/N shyly smiled at the older woman, surprised at the sudden praise since the two of them haven't had many interactions throughout the years. ''Thank you, you too.'' She politely replied. 

''Hey, how are you?'' Max focused on her when his small talk with Charles was done, sticking out his fist for a bump. 

Both Leclerc siblings chuckled at the greeting. ''I'm good and you?'' She didn't leave him hanging and gently bumped her fist with his. 

''I'm great.'' The dutchman smiled. 

The youngest Leclerc remembered how she would taunt Charles by running after him while shouting Max's name, knowing it would annoy her older brother- especially if he had just lost to him in karting. She found it funny how they're still rivals after all these years. 

''Congratulations on your championship.'' Y/N quickly told him before following Charles to their seats, not wanting to lose her brother in the crowd. 

Max thanked her, but she was already gone and didn't hear it. The Red Bull driver was very fond of the young girl, because he had known her since she was a toddler. He would always remember how Charles would take her on the podium with him if the Monégasque had won, and that one time a 7 year-old Y/N gave him a high-five despite having won against her brother. 

''This shit is really boring.'' Y/N whispered as the two hosts started announcing a new category, a yawn almost escaping her mouth. 

Charles chuckled, feeling the exact same way about the event. ''I have to get up to give the 'Rookie of the Year' award in a few minutes so I'm just trying to look alive.'' 

''Who won it this year?'' She asked him, not aware of the winner. 

''Zane Maloney, he was second in the F3 championship,'' he answered before smirking, ''oh, he finished in front of Ollie.'' 

Y/N gave him a side-eye, unimpressed by her brother's teasing. ''Yeah, by like 2 points.'' 

''Maybe you should have dated Zane instead.'' Charles continued, still grinning like an idiot and raising his eyebrow. 

''How many points were there between you and Max again?'' 

''I gotta go now, I think.'' Charles got up from his seat, looking mildly annoyed by his sister's comeback. Meanwhile, Y/N had a satisfied expression on her face knowing she pissed her brother off. ''He's so stupid.'' 

''You had fun tonight?'' Charles asked her on their drive back to his home in Maranello, his tailored Ferrari jacket draped over her as the coldness of the night settled in. 

Y/N nodded her head, a tired smile on her face. ''Yeah, it was funny seeing you on the stage.'' 

''You kept laughing at me! You know how hard I was trying to keep my laughter in?'' He exclaimed, recalling his sister distracting him while he accepted his award. ''And you were filming it as well!'' 

''Of course I was,'' Y/N cackled, ''it's for mum.'' 

''Well, I'm happy you had a good time at least.'' Charles grinned, his tone changing from offended to loving. 

The youngest hummed, a comfortable silence falling upon them. 

''Are you, uh, gonna be home Monday?'' Y/N interrupted the quietness, a hint of nerves in her voice. 

Charles confusingly glanced at his sister. ''Yeah, we're having dinner, haven't we?'' 

The unexcited sound of his voice made her roll her eyes. ''You sound very excited about, thank you so much, Charles.'' Y/N told him, sarcastically. 

''I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that- I am looking forward to it, it's gonna be great.'' He apologised, his arm going over her shoulder. 

Y/N nodded to his words. ''I hope so, Ollie's very nervous about it.'' 

''Why?'' 

''Cause he says Arthur has been acting weird with him, and he thinks you and Lorenzo absolutely despise him.'' Ollie's concerns over her brothers had greatly upset her, the sad look on his face when he told her breaking her heart. 

Charles felt guilty upon hearing his sister's answer. ''I don't despise him and neither does Enzo, and Arthur is always weird,'' he denied her words, ''I'm sorry that we made him worry about that, that's not our intention- he's a good guy.'' 

''I don't need everyone to be like best friends, but he shouldn't be shitting his pants any time you guys come near him.'' Y/N joked, although there was a truth to her words. 

Her brother squeezed her hand. ''We like him, alright? 

''That makes me happy.'' She said, a genuine smile on her face. 

''But if he makes you cry-''

''Yeah, you're gonna give him something to cry about- mum already told me.'' 

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#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x oc #f1 imagines #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic

[thisonehere]

hi! I'm not exactly sure if you're taking requests, but if you do then I have an idea!

Syzoth x gn/fem (whatever you feel comfy with)

where Syzoth sucks at flirting with *humans* and tries his best to use Zettarian ways to get other's attention but it doesn't work out at all, so he asks johnny cage for advice...

(it can be dabble or just headcanon, whatever you'd like. also thank you if you decide to write it down!)

OMG, YES, I'd love to!

Mating Season

A/n: Omg, I Love this idea. I hope I did it justice. Fun fact: I actually looked up some mating rituals which reptiles and other animals do for this, and I got an eyeful, so I'm traumatized lol. Tags: MK1, MK1 AU, Request, Fluff, Drabble C/w: fem!reader, afab reader, courting, mating rituals, maor confession

Syzoth has had feelings for you for quite a while, how could he not You were so loving and warm. You always made him welcome and loved, a much-needed comfort after the loss of his family. He loved being around you you never failed to put a smile on his face. He loves so many things about you that it would take hours to name them all. Others have noticed how head-over-heels in love with you he is. Kung Lao jokes about how you two will be walking down the aisle one day. Though Syzoth doesn't know what this "aisle" is or why you would be walking down it, but he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

But Syzoth feels unsure, he has just lost his family, or he has just learned of the loss of his family, how possibly could he move on from them so soon? But you are so amazing though, he can't get you off of your mind. He can't help but worry about what life would be like without you. His heart broke at the idea of you and him not being together, he had to try even if you didn't feel the same. After much, he decides to do it, he is going to woo you and, hopefully, make you his mate for life. When it comes to flirting, Syzoth only has ever known the Zetarrian way. But surely that is enough. Surely the mating rituals for humans are no different than it is for Zattarians.

The next moment he sees you he will immediately start the mating rituals. He'll change into his real form to display his colour patterns in their full glory hoping that it'll attract you, but you just compliment him and walk off. He then will go behind you and bump his chin on the back of your head to let you know that he's ready to mate with you, unfortunately, you just think he's being playful and laugh. It appears that his simple wooing practices is not working, so he takes things up more extreme measures. This include giving you dead animal carcasses (or what you hope were animals) as gifts, twigs, leaves and branches for you to make a nest, he introduces you to a nice cave where you can raise your young.

Syzoth is trying his hardest to win your attraction, even going as far as fighting and chasing off potential rivals for your affection even if they were his friends. He has attempted a mating call, but you ran away in fear of the demonic screeching that came out of his mouth. It soon dawns on Syzoth that nothing is working. In fact, he seems to be pushing you further and further away with his advances. He doesn't want to lose you, but he fears that he's scaring you. Everything that was seen as acceptable or good in his homeland seems to be seen as repulsive up here. This was much more complicated in this world than he had ever anticipated. Syzoth can't help but panic, he doesn't want to lose you, he loves you with every fibre of his being. He needs someone, anyone, to help him. Someone who what they're doing when it comes to flirting...

"Well, Well, Well, looks like a certain Romeo needs my help." Johnny Cage Cage said with a smirk as he welcomed Syzoth into his mansion. "I see after you finish helping whoever this 'Romeo' is, can you help me? I desperately need your aid in the wooing of (Y/n)." Syzoth said with a sense of desperation in his voice. "(Y/n), huh?" Johnny said knowingly with an impressed smirk. "She's quite the catch, I don't blame you for trying to tap that.". Syzoth shook his head at this "I've already tried the tapping, but it didn't work. Nothing I do seems to work." There was a sense of desperation Syzoth's, one which Johnny recognized all too well. "Well, you've been to the right place. The ladies love me. Just look at Kitana." "Didn't she break your nose for flirting with her?" "That's beside the point, what is the point is that I am THE ladies man. So if you wanna know to get with (Y/n), I'm you man." Syzoth leans in, both out of intrigue as well as desperation. "What must I do?"

It was evening time now at the Wu Shi Academy. You have found the perfect place to relax after such a stressful day. Though you could not admit it, you also came here in hopes of avoiding Syzoth. He has been acting strangely as of late, you don't know why. You were worried for him, he was scarring you and you didn't know what to do. He seems to be only acting this around you, why? Did you do something to upset him? Does he hate you? Maybe this was some weird Zettarian tradition that you didn't know about. You didn't know, all you knew you could do was give him some space for now, and maybe talk to Liu Kang if things got any worse.

Suddenly, you notice something in the corner of your eye. It was Syzoth. When you see him, you quickly rise to your feet and attempt to leave, hoping that he won't see you. "(Y/n)!" Dammit, he saw you. You turn around to face him, and as you do, you feel your heart racing. This always happens to you whenever you are in his presence, he just has this effect on you. You sometimes lose your train of thought with his smile, the way he says your name gives you butterflies, and many times you have to fight off blushing at every word he says. Syzoth finally catches up to you, you both stand there for some time awkwardly staring at each other, unsure what to say to the other.

Syzoth took a deep breath, he silently prayed that what Johnny told him was right. This was probably his last chance to court you, f he fails now then he won't know what to do next. He's already embarrassed himself around you enough. "I'm...sorry if I've been acting strange around you lately, I-I didn't mean to hurt you." He says with a calm and soothing voice, trying his best to put a charming foot forward. "It's just that you're so amazing and pretty-I mean beautiful-no-I mean- I wasn't-I'm sorry." He said in shame at fumbling his words. He looks at you in the eyes as he clears his voice "I have been acting so weirdly because I was trying to court you the way my people did. Johnny told me that's not how things worked up here, he told me to talk to you and tell you how I feel...well he told me to do other things too but I don't that would end well. Alright, here goes." He inhales and exhales just one more time before he continues. "I am in love with you (Y/n), you make me feel seen whenever you look at me, you make me feel safe when you hold my hand, and you make me feel welcome when you are by my side. Every moment I am with you is an ecstasy I cannot describe. I never want us to end. I wish to be with you for the rest of my days, possibly raise a family together, or not. All I desire is you, for it to be you who comes back to me, I want to feel your flesh against mine, I wish for you to belong to me and me to you. I want you, every last bit of you." He exhales in relief as he finishes. His eyes fall onto you as you process what you just heard. "Please don't break my nose."

It is a most painful second as he waits for a reply. His heart pounds within his chest, he feels sick for some reason, and his eyes stay on you as he pleadingly waits for an answer. At this point, Syzoth begins to lose hope. I have failed. He slowly and silently begins to concede. Perhaps this wasn't meant to be after all.

Syzoth opens his mouth, planning to apologise and leave. But you act first. You throw yourself into arms. Even though this sudden action leaves him confused, he does not hesitate to wrap his arms around you and hold you close. There is smile on your face as you pull away, you continue your barrage of affection by assaulting his face with kisses. Syoth holds you tighter as he returns you kisses. "I'd love to, Syzoth, but let's just takes things slow first." Syzoth only replied with a nod. The smile on his face said everything else. The joy he felt inside felt unmatched to any other feeling he's ever felt, the future suddenly felt brighter for him and you.

#mk1 #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mortal kombat 1 #mk fanfic #mk fandom #mk fanfiction #fanfiction #mortal kombat fanfiction #syzoth #mk syzoth #mk reptile #syzoth x reader #johnny cage #mk johnny #mating #the circle of life #mating ritual #coupling #johnny cage being a wingman #romance #request #taking requests

[halsteadlover]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @hart-kinsella: Maybe him and mc are working undercover (but they're married in real life) and a guy tries too hard with her (takes her by the arm and invades her personal space as well as trying to flirt with her with words) and then Jay tells him that and punches him. They could be at a club like that one episode when he and Hailey (and Kevin, maybe? I don't remember exactly) were undercover - unfortunately I don't recall which season it was.

• Warnings: mention of drugs, violence.

• Word count: 1543.

• A/N: I know this is not my best work and I apologize 😭 but I managed to quickly write it so I can post something ❤️ and tell me why I stayed for half an hour staring at the wall to think about a title and I ended up with this one 😭 btw love you all and thank you always for your support

It was no secret Jay sometimes hated undercover missions. Especially if you were involved.

He couldn’t help it. He knew you were an amazing cop, one of the best he ever worked with, capable of defending yourself in any circumstances but since you were also his wife, he couldn’t help but worry about you.

And this case was no different.

You and Jay were undercover due to a drug trafficking case, him as a potential buyer interested in purchasing the drugs, you as his work partner who had set up the connection with Joshua Ryder, the criminal suspected of being the gang’s leader.

Jay was on the verge of losing his mind, not being able to stay still and acting like nothing was happening.

You were both in a club, sitting in a VIP room while you talked with Ryder and convince him to make a deal with you. The rest of the team were instead in some fake company’s vans listening to your conversations in real time.

However, things started to go wrong when Jay noticed one of the traffickers approaching you in a way he didn’t like at all.

“Are you here to do business or watch her like a hawk?” the gang leader had insisted for the umpteenth time while for the umpteenth time Jay directed his gaze towards you who continued to giggle with fake enthusiasm with one of Ryder’s henchmen.

You were uncomfortable, as with any mission that involved getting close to another man other than your husband. You knew it was your job, that you had a duty to fulfill and your private life had to stay out of it but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

“You sure you don’t want anything to drink, sugar?” Asked the man who insistently continued to hit on you. You didn’t even know his name – or care to know – but you smiled anyway with fake naivety, slightly shaking your head.

You quickly glanced at Jay who was sitting in front of you, noticing he was busy talking to Ryder, but his gaze met yours for a moment. It was brief but in that simple look you understood he too had noticed that guy’s insistence. Jay had his arms crossed over his chest, breathing heavy, his jaw clenched as he saw how this man insisted on getting closer to you.

He was disgusting, he smelled of alcohol from miles away, and you had to repress the urge to vomit and the instinct to punch his ugly face.

The man approached further, sliding on the sofa towards you and you moved back, trying to create further distance but without making it obvious and making him suspicious.

“You know, my boss is quite jealous of his employees, you shouldn’t be so close to me,” you falsely giggled but he didn’t seem to get the hint, in fact, it seemed to amuse him even more.

“We’re all one big family here darling, what’s mine is someone else’s and what’s someone else’s is mine…” He rested an arm on the back of the sofa behind your shoulders and although he hadn’t even touched you, you felt your skin crawl and the urgent need to throw yourself into an acid bath. “If you want to do business with us your boss will have to learn how to share… Especially with such a beautiful and gracious girl like you.”

The desire to kick him in the balls was intense and you wondered what kind of woman would really fall for these words.

Jay was on the verge of losing his mind.

He was trying.

He was really trying but it was so fucking hard to stay still and not react when that son of a bitch was being a creep with his wife. Ryder was talking to him about something he didn’t even care about, but he couldn’t pay attention and process a single word, too focused on you.

He couldn’t help but glance at you every now and then, running a hand on his jaw in frustration and starting to fidget on the spot as he saw the man getting closer and closer to you and invading your personal space, like touching your hair or caress your shoulder.

It wasn’t jealousy, he could never be jealous of a filthy man like him but he deeply hated not being able to do anything to keep you safe without ruining the whole mission. He hated seeing you so tense and uncomfortable although from the way your hands were balled into fists in your lap, he knew you too were itching to punch him.

He hated having to pretend you were simply his work partner and not his wife.

But he swore he saw red when that man’s clammy hand rested on your face and your eyes widened at the contact as your entire body froze in place.

Fuck the mission and these motherfuckers too.

Jay lost control.

That slimy hand on you had driven him crazy and before he knew it, he had stood up and grabbed the man’s hand with his, punching him in the face with all the strength in his body. He didn’t catch the gasp that escaped you and he didn’t even care he had just ruined any chance of doing ‘business’ with Ryder along with the possibility of framing him. While his fist hit that bastard again and again, all he could do was think of those hands on you.

“That’s my fucking wife you motherfucker!” Jay screamed in his face, holding him by the collar of his shirt as the man spat out blood, struggling to keep up with the fury of the undercover detective. “Let me catch you again putting a hand on her or even just looking her way, I’ll enjoy breaking your fingers one by one before throwing you in jail.”

Everything was now chaos.

The team, who in the meantime had witnessed everything through your hidden cameras, burst in when they realized the situation had now worsened to the point of no return. You tried to pull Jay away from the man, but it was totally useless, not when he was so furious that your strength was no match for his.

Ryder was fuming when he realized you were cops and you had tried to frame him, swearing he’d make you pay dearly while Kevin handcuffed him along with the rest of his goons.

“Baby,” you called back but Jay didn’t look at you right away. You stood outside the club under Voight’s orders, a hand on his bicep and caressing him as you tried to get his attention. You were alone in a little corner, waiting for your boss for his inevitable fury.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice low but finally focusing his gaze on you.

You let out a laugh trying to diffuse the tension, you hated seeing him so furious. “You are ask me if I’m okay? I’m not the one who just punched a guy.”

He sighed, tearing his eyes away from you as he ran his hands over his face with frustration. Your heart clenched at the sight of his red and bruised knuckles. “I wish I had killed him to be honest.”

“Jay I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” you replied, taking his hands in yours and leaving a kiss on the back of them, smiling when you saw his hard features start to soften at the gesture. “I could’ve handled him, I wouldn’t have let him go any further.”

“I know you could baby, you’re amazing,” he softy spoke, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He took a step towards you, closing the distance enough you had to slightly lift your head up to look into his eyes. “But there’s no way on earth that I would have sat there and watched while that son of a bitch put his hands on you.”

He cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs caressing your heated cheeks. “No one gets to put a hand on you, much less against your will. You’re my wife, I’m the only bastard who can touch you and I will gladly kill anyone who dares to do it instead of me, am I clear?”

You let out a breath, almost on the verge of passing out right there and now in his arms. “God baby I want to suck your dick so bad right now. I love when you get so protective of me, it’s so hot.”

Jay burst out laughing, his stomach clenching in anticipation knowing you would stand by your words. He pulled you into a hug and you rested your head on his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ll always keep you safe, I won’t let anyone touch a single hair of your head, I hope you know it. God knows I would set the city on fire to protect you.”

“I know baby, I love you so damn much it’s insane,” you deeply inhaled the smell of his cologne, leaving a kiss on his shirt coated chest. “But I hope it’s worth it because Voight is coming and I think he’s ready to take us both out,” you continued when you broke away from the hug and saw your boss coming up behind Jay, a furious look on his face.

“Oh yeah, it’ll always be worth it, especially for the amazing blowjob you’ll give me later.”

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[gotham-daydreams]

Oh my god due to the recent Alfred ask it makes me wonder and scream at the thought if there has ever been a moment when Reader asked Alfred if there's something else they can call him. Like DAD perhaps...(and this can go for different routes and so many juicy things, but ill get into that later).

But since the backstory is up to us, I like to think the Reader has a bio family which was questionable(maybe I'm projecting), so they never had a good track record with their dad and then Bruce adopted them and we know that didn't end well.

So when they ask Alfred if there's something else they can call him ( a lil show that they do see him closer than anyone and that he's important to us.) We could have gone back and forth with him talking about what to call him and stuff when we jokingly say something along the lines of "maybe not Dad since my track record with such isn't the best." Maybe they open up to Alfred about how their family/ life was before they were adopted by the batfam. Maybe even admit they can't see anyone as a dad figure after them (😭), so the thought is uncomfy for them( this hits in so many ways.) Or how they're scared if they call him dad something will change about Alfred and become like their 'dads'.

Which will undoubtedly hit some strings with Alfred. Seeing as how every 'dad' has failed them to the point they can't fathom or be comfortable with seeing or thinking of someone as a dad. But the fact that BRUCE had played a part in it 💀... Which is what's making the Reader confused and feel unsecured in his own personal relationship with the Reader (on what to call him, but probably in other stuff as well).

Back to the top part of the reader asking what they can call him, and they end up at something along the lines or at calling Alfred Dad.

It will undoubtedly make his heart squeeze and scrumble( One way could be he's being called 'Dad' after so long). Probably make Alfred a lot closer to the reader than before. Probably stepping up to the title and being closer taking care of Reader even more, now that he knows they have that emotional bond( stronger than before and the permission).

For little cute ideas/cenerios I imagine he makes an even greater effort to come to our plays and tournaments and sit front row probably recording.( in a reserved seat next to all the other empty ones 😒). And get a lil prissy when he can't make it (ESPECIALLY IF ITS BC OF THE BATFAM). He asks some of the organizers to record it specifically for him if they aren't doing it already, so he can watch it live (or once handed to him)while doing whatever keeps him from going. All so he can talk about it with us when we come back home and show how proud of us he is.

Definitely gets us gifts for each performance/ tournaments. If he was present he would walk with us a while after it ended and get us ice cream or out for a celebratory dinner. 😭

Okay but now for the lil angst part in that moment when we settle on what to call Alfred whenever it would be similar or is Dad or a different title all together that would be the moment we lose any real attachments to the Batfam. Not seeing them as siblings or parental figures anymore. At most just wanted to impress them but that quickly died off and just just focused on what we do have.

Alfred would also know that that was the moment or the end of the falling bridge with the Batfam and Reader. Which would probably hurt him cause the Batfam is still his family, but now he also has us and sees our neglect and what the batfam's consequences are. Probably breaking his own hope of us being accepted/ integrated into it and the Batfam to being back a normal dysfunctional but loving family with us in it.

Okay but the real ANGST. It's not just the reader and Alfred having heart to heart or other situations between the two of them. BUT INSTEAD BRUCE HEARING READER CALL ALFRED THE TITLE WE SETTLED ON. And it doesn't have to be only Bruce that would work for angst because the others are smart so if they hear Reader call Alfred by the title... They know it doesn't correlate to them and their relationship of being Reader's sibling because Alfred isn't that title to them. Connecting and discovering at the same time that the Reader doesn't see them as siblings and hasn't for a time they weren't even aware of.

Imagining just Bruce sneaking away and thinking by himself or even confronting Alfred 😩😩. The Batkids doing their research seeing Reader live their life completely disconnected from theirs only hammering that Reader doesn't see them as family. The only thing connecting to them being Alfred and even Alfred is a different role in Reader's life than in theirs.

Maybe Batfam finds out about what the Reader tried to get their attention only to give up, maybe they don't and just see the Reader slipping away until the Reader becomes a foggy memory again until the Reader moves away like in the [Not] series everything follows.

Hope you enjoy 🥰🥰💕 drink water 💦

Yeah!!! And since there is another ask that's about the reader considering Alfred their dad, and how Bruce would react to that, I won't be going too much into how Bruce himself would react since I'd like to explain it there when I get to it- but I will say that in very, very simple terms. Bruce is not happy about it. At all.

As for how the whole name thing would start? Alfred would definitely say that you can call him whatever you'd like, but will definitely silently try to nudge you in the direction of calling him dad or something akin to that. He may not expect it to work right away, especially in this scenario where the reader already has a messy relationship with people who were supposed to be their father's in the past. However, when you do call him dad or something similar, he is literally about to cry.

He won't cry in front of you! But he might later-

Regardless, words cannot express the amount of joy he feels when that happens, and as you've mentioned, Alfred does try to not let you down. Unwilling to become another reason why you have a hard time seeing people as your father, or father-figure. He feels more inclined to look after you above everyone else, and tries even harder to be present. There isn't a single event of performance that he'll miss willingly, and even if he does- he has his ways of making it up to you, even if you know that it was out of his hands.

I think a neat detail would also be that the amount of unoccupied seats next to him slowly shorten with time. It starts off with there being a seat for everyone in the Batfam, but as time goes on the amount begins to dwindle, until there's just one for him. Maybe with the occasional one other seat beside him if it's for an event, and you get to sit next to him before going or doing whatever you have to. Further showing how you, as the reader, begin to care less and less about the Batfam, and really only see/recognize Alfred as your family. As there is only one reserved seat for him at each and every performance and tournament.

I think the idea of the Batfam noticing this and trying to fix it, yet the reader still being able to slip away, and them forgetting all over again is both just out right heartbreaking and infuriating.

Like, can you imagine as a neglected!reader, finally having your family notice you (despite you growing used to their lack of attention at this point), only to have them forget you exist all over again? Or just forget about you enough to where you still leave without saying much of anything, and only leave behind a note to the one person you considered family?

And imagine the Batfam- not only feeling, but knowing that they've failed you more than they could ever imagine? Not only making you feel alone and isolated in your own home, since they never noticed you, not only once, but twice? That's borderline unforgivable. They noticed you, and somehow still managed to neglect you all over again. It's astonishing, really. Maybe they do have powers after all.

But really- how I could see that happening is if they get too busy with the idea of you rather you yourself, if that makes sense?

Through their research and everything, they form a version of you in their heads that they're all clinging onto, that they unintentionally don't give the real you a chance. Hell, they don't even give themselves a chance to even see it as they drown in their own delusions. Stuck with plans and ideas they ultimately never saw through, either because they were far too worried to further mess things up (like a certain brooding bat), or were far too certain of the outcome and therefore came up with more ideas and plans that they ended up not doing. Like a certain robin who, after two generations, finally wore pants. So by the time they realize their mistake, (which probably happenss when one of them finally decides to actually act on a plan they made) you're gone. Lost to the wind. Like a distant whisper they nevr quite heard, but dreamed about encountering ever since. Forgetting that chasing and searching were things they could do right from the start instead.

Though Alfred and the reader having a heart to heart? Please, we could all really use that. Forget about how horrible Alfred is behind the scenes- we need the closest thing we can get to a positive influence in this family. Or really just a good source of comfort, honestly.

Though his dying hope does break his heart, he just takes it as another opportunity to fill in the shoes of being your father. Even if at this point it means being your only family out of everyone in the Batfam, then so be it. He'll just have to fill in where they refuse to, but he doesn't mind since it gets him more time with you- and I can imagine that, despite the hurt of realizing that you'll never be 'fully' apart of the Wayne family, at least you have a part with Alfred and the Pennyworth's. And there is some comfort and reassurance that comes with that. Since, while you may not be able to have this big, huge family- at least you have this small, comfortable one right here with Alfred.

Hell, this time around Alfred might even fully support the reader moving away, as he's more certain than ever that he'll still have that connection with them. That he and the reader will actually communicate, and as long as he can still see them and so on- he doesn't mind.

He'll let the Batfam run around, and play dumb at all the right moments with that sassy, sarcastic attitude of his. Letting them know that they've wasted their opportunity- wasted the one real chance they had with you, and probably won't be getting another one.

After all, it isn't his fault that they fucked up. If anything, he's probably the only reason why the reader is connected to the Batfam at all, or even associates with them the smallest amount. It isn't because of Bruce or any of the others. It's because of Alfred. Even if he won't say it out loud, he'll make sure that they all know it one way or another, and though Alfred doesn't necessarily view himself as cruel- he wouldn't mind throwing a little shade if it meant emphazing that point a little further.

You are his kid. His family. Why would they think otherwise?

On a lighter, more wholesome note, I definitely agree with the more light/cuter ideas!!

Alfred is definitely spoiling you if he can help it, and will poorly disguise his favoritism- though probably would stop even trying to hide it all together at some point.

There is never a moment where Alfred doesn't/won't remind you of how proud of you he is, and how much you've improved. He isn't afraid to admit that you're doing a good job or doing the right thing, even if you can be reckless at times, to your face. And if you end up doubting your ability, or just yourself as a whole, Alfred will definitely be there to comfort you, and remind you of how well you've been doing and reiterate how proud you make him.

He wants you to know that he'll always be there for you, and by the time you leave, you still feel that.

Alfred also makes sure to check up on you and tend to your needs, along with spend time with you in other ways- which does include, but isn't limited to; watching films at home, baking/cooking together, sewing, reading, tending to the garden, and just generally being in each other's space. Maybe even a small hang out outside of the manor if you both can help it.

Nevertheless, that was a fun read, and I fully agree!! Make sure to drink some water and rest up too!

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dc #gn reader #platonic yandere #neglected reader #yandere alfred #yandere batfam x reader