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pucksandpower · 9 months ago

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The Princess and the Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Princess of Denmark!Reader

Summary: in which you follow the time-honored tradition of Danish royalty falling in love with Australians

Note: dedicated to my favorite Dane, @struggling-with-drivers, who had to put up with me taking months to finally get the proper inspiration to write this

“And if you’ll just follow me, Your Majesty and Your Royal Highnesses, I’ll take you to meet Kevin now,” the overly peppy Haas PR representative says as she gestures down the garage.

You force a smile, trying not to physically recoil as you take in the assault of garish Haas branding surrounding you. The white, red, and black color scheme is far too harsh on the eyes this early on a Saturday morning.

“Oh goody,” your younger sister Josephine says flatly, eliciting a snort from your younger brother Vincent.

Your mother, Queen Mary, shoots the two a reproachful look before turning back to the PR rep with a polished smile. “We’re very excited to meet Kevin and support Denmark’s driver.”

The PR rep beams and starts leading you further into the Haas garage, rattling on about Haas’ ambitious goals for the season as you pass mechanics in matching black Haas polos barely paying you any mind.

You internally groan, already dreading the interaction ahead. As the Crown Princess, you’ve long perfected the art of feigning interest, but this weekend has tested even your limits.

“And I know meeting the future queen will just make Kevin’s day!” The rep continues enthusiastically. “He was so honored when King Frederik reached out about you all coming this weekend to support him.”

You resist the urge to snort. More like the royal communications secretary reached out when they realized the Australian Grand Prix overlapped with your visit to your mother’s family in Australia. Nothing like conveniently timing a royal appearance to drum up positive press.

Your younger sister, Isabella, sidles up next to you, linking her arm through yours commiseratingly. At 16, she’s already mastered your family’s signature skill — conveying boredom through a pleasant facial expression.

“I have some fresh sets of Haas merch we would love for you to wear when you meet Kevin,” the rep says, holding out stacks of Haas emblazoned caps and shirts insistently. “It would mean so much to the team for you to showcase your support.”

You force a smile, already shaking your head. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t wear anything with advertisements or sponsors per royal protocol.”

The PR rep’s face falls slightly before she plasters the smile back on. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, I understand. Shall we?”

She gestures further down the garage to where the Haas drivers are standing with team personnel. Kevin Magnussen spots your approach, nudging his teammate before they turn towards you.

As you reach them, Kevin steps forward first, offering a short bow. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highnesses, it’s an honor to meet you.”

You offer your hand, which he takes, bowing again as he brushes his lips over your knuckles. “The honor is ours, Mr. Magnussen. Denmark is proud to have you representing us in Formula 1.”

Kevin smiles bashfully as you drop his hand. “Please, call me Kevin.”

You return his smile politely. “Very well, Kevin it is.”

The rest of your family exchanges pleasantries with Kevin before the PR rep guides you towards the pit wall to observe the action on track. Practice is getting underway, and you’re grateful for any chance to extract yourself from the oppressive Haas environment.

As you exit the garage into the sunlight, you breathe a sigh of relief. Two bodyguards fall smoothly in step behind you as you start down the paddock, taking in the buzz of activity.

You smile softly, the excitement infectious despite your general disinterest in motorsports. There’s something about the frenetic energy at a race that gets your blood pumping.

Your eyes light up as you spot the unmistakable papaya motorhome of McLaren up ahead. Now that’s a team you can get behind. Cool retro appeal and a driver line-up you’ve heard is full of young talent — what’s not to love?

You pick up your pace, eager to get a closer look at the iconic livery, when suddenly you collide headlong into a firm, muscular body.

You gasp as strong arms wrap around you, stopping your momentum abruptly. Your hands brace against a solid chest as you glance up, prepared to stammer out an apology.

But the words die on your lips as you find yourself staring into warm brown eyes set in an unfairly handsome face. The eyes widen in surprise, clearly not having expected the Crown Princess of Denmark to go careening into his arms.

His mouth opens, no doubt to ask if you’re okay, but you stand frozen as the hustle of the paddock fades into background noise.

In this moment, it’s just you and this beautiful stranger. A stranger who hasn’t let go of you yet, one hand still pressed gently against your back.

You know you should pull away, apologize for your clumsiness and be on your way. But something about his eyes makes you want to stay right here, wrapped safely in his arms.

You stand frozen, lost in the stranger’s mesmerizing brown eyes. You vaguely register your bodyguards stepping forward on either side of you.

“Your Royal Highness, are you alright?” Henrik, your lead bodyguard, asks urgently.

You blink, the spell broken as Henrik’s hand lands on your shoulder, gently tugging you back.

The stranger’s eyes widen further as understanding seems to dawn. His eyes flick over the royal crest on Henrik’s suit jacket before moving back to your face, a hint of panic in his gaze.

Before you can offer any reassurance, a voice calls out sharply from behind the man.

“Oscar! What are you doing, mate? We’ve got the strategy briefing in five!”

You watch as the man — Oscar, apparently — glances reluctantly over his shoulder to where a thin harried man bearing a McLaren team pass stands tapping his foot impatiently.

Oscar’s hands slip from your waist as he takes a small step back. “Sorry, I—”

But whatever he was going to say gets lost as the man strides forward, clapping a firm hand on Oscar’s shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s go. No time for chatting up fans when we’ve got quali coming up.”

Oscar allows himself to be steered away, casting one last, almost wistful look back at you before the brisk man hustles him around the corner.

You stare after them for a long moment before Henrik’s voice breaks through your daze once more.

“Your Highness, are you injured at all? Shall I call for a medic?”

You blink, shaking your head quickly as heat floods your cheeks. Honestly, they must think you a simpleton, standing here gaping after a man you collided with.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him quickly. “Just a bit clumsy this morning it seems.”

You force out a breathy laugh, hoping your flaming cheeks can be explained away as embarrassment from your blunder.

Henrik eyes you skeptically for a moment before nodding. “Very well. But please be more careful, Your Highness. Next time we may not be so lucky.”

You nod contritely before allowing Henrik to usher you back towards the Haas garage, your other bodyguard falling smoothly back in step behind you.

As you near the garage, you spot your family gathered by the pit wall, watching as a group of track marshals examines a particularly suspicious drain cover. Your younger siblings all turn as one to look at you, eerily in sync.

The knowing looks on their faces make you shudder. Of the many curses of growing up in a big family, the inability to keep secrets ranks near the top. You’re sure they’ll have the truth out of you before long.

“Nice of you to join us, Y/N,” your younger brother Christian remarks wryly as you reach them. “Have a nice stroll?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him. Barely.

“Lovely, thank you,” you reply breezily instead, moving to stand between your mother and Isabella.

You determinedly avoid meeting any of your siblings’ gazes, focusing on the timing sheets instead. But you can feel their curious stares boring into you.

“You look a bit flushed, darling. Are you feeling quite alright?” Your mother murmurs, pressing a hand to your forehead in concern.

“Just peachy!” You chirp in response, internally cringing at the unnatural brightness in your tone.

From your other side, Isabella leans in, voice sly. “You do seem rather … distracted. Anything you want to share with the class?”

You glance at her sharply, taking in her knowing smirk. You narrow your eyes in warning, but Isabella just smiles innocently.

“Oh leave your sister be,” your mother chides. “I’m sure Y/N is just overwhelmed by the excitement of experiencing her first Grand Prix.”

You make a noncommittal noise of agreement, turning your focus back to the timing sheets. Isabella elbows you subtly and you pointedly ignore her, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

You’re immensely thankful when the Haas PR rep appears again, ushering you towards the back to “give the team space to prepare for qualifying,” and drawing your family’s attention away from you.

You trail after your family to the cordoned off hospitality area, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from the proffered cooler.

As the mechanics spring into action around you, Isabella sidles up next to you again, playful smile still in place.

“Soooo,” she drawls, bumping your shoulder with hers. “Who’s got you all flustered then?”

You nearly choke on your water, whipping your head to face her. “What? No one! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Even to your own ears, the denial sounds feeble. Isabella merely arches one perfect brow, clearly not buying it.

You huff out a breath, scanning the room quickly to ensure none of your other family members are in earshot before hissing under your breath. “I may have accidentally careened into a McLaren crew member during my walk.”

Isabella’s grin turns positively feline. “Oh, do tell ...”

“There’s nothing to tell!” you insist, face flaming once more. “We collided and his reflexes were quick enough to catch me before I fell. That’s all.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure that blush is just because you’re so very embarrassed by your clumsiness and nothing else.”

You scowl and take a long swig of your water.

Isabella chuckles. “So was this mystery McLaren man at least handsome?”

You nearly choke again. “Isabella!” You admonish under your breath.

She holds up both hands innocently, still grinning. “What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question. No judgment here, promise.”

You narrow your eyes, considering her carefully. Before you can think better of it, you mutter reluctantly, “He … wasn’t entirely unfortunate looking.”

“Aha!” Isabella crows triumphantly. “I knew it!”

You shush her frantically, glancing around to make sure her outburst didn’t draw any unwanted attention.

“Do you know his name at least?” Isabella asks, slightly more quietly this time.

You hesitate before admitting, "... Oscar, I think. His colleague called him that.”

Isabella hums thoughtfully. “Very mysterious ...”

You roll your eyes, shoving her shoulder. “Oh stop it. Can we please just drop this?”

“Of course, of course,” Isabella relents, though the impish twinkle remains in her eye.

You’re prevented from further interrogation by the start of qualifying. You rejoin your family, studiously keeping your gaze away from your siblings’ knowing looks.

You determinedly put the morning’s events from your mind, focusing on Kevin’s qualifying efforts. Though you can’t help the occasional wish that the handsome stranger from McLaren — Oscar — was the one flying around the track instead.

The session proceeds fairly predictably, with the top teams claiming the top spots and the backmarkers bringing up the rear.

As Kevin pulls into the garage after qualifying 17th, you paste on an encouraging smile.

“Excellent job out there, Kevin! You and the team should be very proud.”

Kevin smiles wryly back at you. “You’re too kind, Your Highness. But I think we all know 17th is nothing to celebrate for a team with our aspirations.”

You nod sympathetically. “Of course, there’s always room for improvement. But you showed admirable pace given the circumstances.”

Kevin inclines his head gratefully at your measured response. “You have a bright future ahead as queen with such judicious words.”

You thank him sincerely for the compliment before your family takes their leave, the day’s obligations finally complete.

As you all pile into the waiting cars, Isabella leans over and whispers, “Do you think Kevin would’ve qualified higher if Haas wasn’t so slow?”

You have to smother your snort of laughter into your hand.

“Without question,” you whisper back. “I think a snail could qualify ahead of Haas at this point.”

Isabella dissolves into muffled giggles next to you as the cars pull away from the circuit, leaving the chaotic world of Formula 1 behind. At least until tomorrow.

***

You stare contemplatively out the car window as the city lights of Melbourne streak by in the darkness. Despite your family’s teasing, you can’t seem to remove a certain McLaren crew member from your thoughts.

Oscar. Even his name sends a flutter through your stomach.

You know it’s foolish to get caught up over a brief collision with a stranger. And yet … those eyes. You can’t shake the connection you felt in that moment, however fleeting.

The car slows to a stop outside your hotel and you make a split-second decision. Turning to your mother, you adopt your most winsome tone.

“Mor, I was hoping you might allow me to go out for the evening. To experience the Melbourne nightlife before we depart.”

Your mother’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Go out? Alone?”

You rush to reassure her. “Oh no, I’ll take Henrik and Simone with me of course. I would just love the chance to explore the city a bit, like a normal young woman.”

You see a flash of understanding on your mother’s face and press your advantage. “In fact, didn’t you and Far meet during a pub crawl?”

Pink stains your mother’s cheeks but her lips quirk up. “I suppose we did. But those were different times ...”

“Please Mor?” You plead. “When will I have a chance like this again?”

Your mother regards you shrewdly for a long moment before sighing. “Oh very well. But Henrik and Simone must accompany you at all times. And I want you back by midnight at the latest.”

You beam, leaning over to smack a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll stay safe.”

As you exit the car, your younger brother Christian pipes up from behind you. “Hey, can I come too?”

“Absolutely not,” your mother shuts him down swiftly, leveling a quelling look at his crestfallen face.

You hide a smile as you sweep into the hotel to change, giddiness rising in your chest. A night out is just what you need to clear your head from a certain handsome distraction.

An hour later you slide into the backseat of one of the discreet royal security vehicles, now wearing jeans, heels, and a silky camisole, your long hair spilling over your shoulders.

Henrik raises his eyebrows at your outfit but doesn’t comment as he pulls away from the hotel, heading for the club district.

When you arrive, the bouncer’s eyes widen at the royal crests adorning your bodyguards’ suits. But a few quick words from Henrik and you’re granted access without a fuss.

The heavy beat of the music washes over you as you enter the fashionable club. Bright lights flash hypnotically over the crowded dance floor. You glance back at Henrik and Simone stationed near the entrance, allowing the music to carry you further inside.

You weave your way to the bar, excitement simmering in your veins. Tonight you’re just Y/N, anonymous clubgoer. No titles, no expectations, no watching eyes judging your every move.

Well, except for your bodyguards of course. But they’re discreet enough to give you space.

You’re so lost in the heady freedom of anonymity that you don’t notice the nearby figure doing a double take. But as you step up to the bar, waiting to order, a now familiar voice sounds behind you.

“Y-Your Highness!” He stammers, nearly dropping the drinks he just received. “I mean, Princess, uh Crown Princess? Sorry, I’m not actually sure—”

You whirl around to see Oscar standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in a button-down and jeans.

“Oscar!” You gasp, a smile breaking across your face unbidden. “What are you doing here?”

Pink stains Oscar’s tanned cheeks. “Ah, well my mates from the team wanted to go out and blow off some steam before the race tomorrow.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “But what brings Denmark’s future queen out to the clubs?”

You shrug lightly, grin turning impish. “Can’t a girl just want to dance and have some fun?”

Oscar’s eyes gleam with understanding. “Suppose she can. Well then, may I get you a drink … er ...”

He trails off, clearly unsure how to address you in this unusual context.

You take pity on him and lean in conspiratorially. “Tonight, I’m just Y/N. No need for fancy titles.”

Relief flashes across Oscar’s face and he smiles. “Y/N it is.”

Soon you’ve got drinks in hand and are chatting easily at a tall table beside the dance floor. Oscar is witty and charming, and laughs freely at your sarcastic commentary about Formula 1.

You’re amazed by how at ease you feel in his presence, the crown’s ever-present weight lifted from your shoulders. With Oscar, you’re not an heiress apparent, but just a girl talking to a boy she really really likes.

When he asks what you think of McLaren, you perk up eagerly. “Oh yes, what is it exactly that you do there? Are you an engineer or mechanic of some sort?”

Oscar’s eyes shutter briefly and he clears his throat. “Ah, something like that. Mostly just tinkering to try and make the car faster.”

He steers the conversation to safer waters before you can inquire further. You make a mental note to look up the full McLaren staff list later and figure out his specific role.

The night flies by in a blur of laughter and stolen glances. Oscar gamely joins you on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on your waist as you sway together.

When at last you note the time, disappointment sinks heavy in your gut. Oscar’s face mirrors your own regret as he insists on walking you to meet your bodyguards.

Outside the club, you turn to him reluctantly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

Oscar shuffles his feet, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Would … would you want to meet up again tomorrow? Maybe outside the McLaren garage before the race?”

Your face lights up. “I’d love that.” Overcome by boldness, you lean in and brush a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Oscar’s hand drifts up to his cheek, eyes dazed. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You bid him goodnight before allowing Henrik and Simone to usher you into the waiting car, unable to keep the giddy smile from your face the entire ride back.

***

The next morning, you awake with a smile stretching across your face. The memory of Oscar’s brown eyes gazing into yours as you swayed together in the club fills you with warmth.

As you dress and prepare to head to the circuit, an idea strikes. There’s no rule saying you have to spend the entire pre-race hours cooped up in the Haas garage after all.

You slip into the hotel dining room, grabbing a piece of toast. “I’m afraid the petrol fumes in the garage were giving me a dreadful headache yesterday. I think I’ll take a walk around the paddock this morning for some fresh air before the race.”

Your mother’s brows furrow in concern. “Oh dear, that won’t do at all! Yes, a nice walk sounds wise.”

You thank her profusely on your way out, hiding your triumphant smile until the door closes behind you. Phase one complete.

You hold yourself back from rushing through the paddock once at the circuit, maintaining a sedate royal pace. But inside, excitement bubbles through your veins at the thought of seeing Oscar again.

As you make your way to the McLaren garage, your steps falter at the larger-than-life image emblazoned on the wall. Oscar beams back at you, brown hair just barely poking out from under his McLaren cap. The block letters beside the photo proclaim OSCAR PIASTRI #81.

You press a hand to your mouth to smother your gasp. Oscar is a driver? Your Oscar?

Speak of the devil, you spot him emerging from the garage, already dressed in fireproofs with his race suit half hanging around his waist. His face lights up when he sees you, lips curving into that boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

“Good morning!” He chirps, moving in for a brief hug.

You return the hug distractedly, still grappling with this new discovery. As you pull back, you arch a questioning brow at him.

“So … you’re a driver. Funny, I don’t recall you mentioning that last night.”

Pink stains Oscar’s cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, right. I may have omitted certain details about my role here.” His eyes turn pleading. “I hope you can forgive me? I just liked talking to someone who didn’t already know everything about me for once.”

You regard him thoughtfully before allowing a teasing grin to emerge. “Well, I suppose I can understand the appeal of a fresh slate. And it’s not as if I was fully forthcoming either.”

Oscar’s shoulders sag in relief. “Too right. Quite the pair we make, Princess.” His eyes dance playfully.

You open your mouth to respond but are interrupted by a shout from the garage. “Oscar! Debrief in two minutes, let’s go!”

Oscar smiles apologetically. “Duty calls. But let’s continue this later?”

At your nod, he squeezes your hand briefly before jogging back inside. You make your way back to Haas, butterflies still fluttering wildly.

Once the race starts, you have to work to restrain your enthusiasm as Oscar quickly moves up the field. More than once, you catch your lips curving upward as he deftly overtakes a competitor, and have to rearrange them into careful neutrality.

A discreet glance sideways shows your family members focused intently on Kevin’s efforts in the Haas. You allow yourself a small smile. Watching Oscar race with no one the wiser feels like getting away with something deliciously secretive.

The checkered flag finally waves after 58 intense laps. Your heart leaps as the McLaren crew begins celebrating Oscar’s podium finish. You have to force yourself not to join the applause as he climbs from his car, settling for clasping your hands tightly to contain your glee.

Meanwhile, Kevin finishes in 18th position while his teammate Nico suffered a mechanical retirement. You paste on an encouraging smile, tamping down your excitement over Oscar’s podium.

“Nice recovery there at the end, Kevin. Surely the team can build on this result in the next race.”

Privately, you think Haas would be lucky to keep a wheel attached long enough to make it to the end of a full race, let alone fight for points. But you keep that thought to yourself for now.

As your family rises to congratulate a dejected Kevin on completing the race, Isabella leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Not a great showing, I dare say. Perhaps you are considering transferring allegiance to a certain papaya team instead?”

You press your lips together to contain your smile. Trust Isabella to have guessed your conflicted loyalties.

“Indeed,” you murmur back. “One must be open to supporting all teams in the spirit of global unity.”

Isabella’s eyes dance with mirth, but she simply links her arm through yours, giving a sage nod. “Spoken like a true diplomat.”

As the celebrations kick off for Oscar’s first home race podium, you sneak glances over your shoulder, hoping for another glimpse of him through the chaos.

Someday soon, perhaps you’ll be able to cheer for him openly. For now, you hold the image of his smiling face in your mind as you reluctantly follow your family back out of the disappointing Haas garage.

If nothing else, this surprise-filled weekend has shown you that your heart will not be so easily commanded. And it seems to have rather fixated itself on a certain charismatic McLaren driver.

***

You hover near the paddock exit, half hoping to catch one last glimpse of Oscar before your departure. Your family made their polite farewells to the Haas team and you seized the opportunity to slip away.

You’ve just resigned yourself to missing him when hurried footsteps sound behind you.

“Princess! Wait up!”

You whirl around to see Oscar jogging towards you, face freshly showered but still flushed with elation. He draws up before you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I’m so glad I caught you before I had to leave,” you smile brightly. “I had to come say a proper congratulations for your podium first!”

Oscar ducks his head bashfully even as his eyes shine. “And, well, I hoped maybe you were cheering me on out there today?”

Heat floods your cheeks as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “You know I can’t answer that. But I will say you drove brilliantly and I’m so pleased for your result.”

Oscar’s grin widens, clearly reading between the lines of your diplomatic answer.

“Well I’m glad I could end your weekend on a high note after the woeful introduction to Formula 1 from Haas.”

You groan good-naturedly. “Ugh yes, I think Kevin was grateful when I finally made myself scarce from that garage of doom.”

Oscar chuckles before his expression turns wistful. “I suppose this means you’ll be heading back to Denmark now though?”

You shake your head, curls spilling over your shoulders. “Oh no, we’re spending a few more weeks visiting my mother’s family in Tasmania first.”

At Oscar’s look of surprise, you elaborate, “My mother is originally Australian. Her family is from Tasmania.”

Understanding dawns on Oscar’s face. “Well how about that! Danish royalty certainly seems to have a taste for us Aussies.” He winks playfully.

Heat blooms in your cheeks but you rally to return his banter. “I suppose we do. Though from what I hear, McLaren seemed rather keen on Danes once upon a time as well.”

A rather in-depth Google search earlier that day taught you that Kevin Magnussen once raced for the papaya team. You rather wish he never left, if only so you did not have to suffer through the tedium of being in the Haas garage for the past two days.

Oscar barks out a laugh, eyes dancing with mirth. “Too right, you’ve got me there.” His laughter fades to a soft smile. “But I can’t say I blame my predecessors in the slightest.”

The tender look in his eyes makes your breath catch. Before you lose your nerve, you hurriedly dig out your phone.

“I should give you my number. So we can keep in touch.”

Oscar’s face lights up as he scrambles for his own phone. You quickly swap devices, inputting your contact info and trying not to notice how his name looks lighting up your screen.

Once you’ve traded phones again, an awkward silence descends. You clutch your phone tightly, unsure how to say goodbye when this thing between you feels so new and delicate.

Oscar clears his throat, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way ...”

“Right, yes ...” You trail off, searching for the right words. Because as silly as it sounds, the thought of not seeing Oscar’s smile for who knows how long makes your chest unexpectedly tight.

Acting on impulse, you step forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. Oscar’s arms immediately curl around your back, clutching you close.

You breathe him in, imprinting this moment in your memory. The noise of the paddock fades away until it’s just this — the two of you suspended in time.

Far too soon, Oscar pulls back reluctantly. His eyes search your face like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Travel safely, Princess. I’ll see you soon.” His voice holds a promise.

You nod, not trusting your voice. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk steadily towards the exit. Your bodyguards fall in step behind you.

You don’t look back, though you can feel Oscar’s gaze on you until you disappear from view. As your car pulls away, you finally chance a glance backwards, just in time to see Oscar still watching wistfully after you.

Your breath escapes in a shaky exhale and you clutch your phone like a lifeline. Everywhere else suddenly feels much too far away.

***

You collapse back onto your bed, phone already pressed to your ear before the first ring even finishes. Oscar picks up on the second, voice warm and teasing as always.

“Eager today, are we Princess?”

You roll your eyes even as your lips quirk up. “Oh hush, you know you wait just as anxiously for my calls.”

Oscar’s answering chuckle makes your heart skip a beat. “Guilty. I’ll gladly admit your voice is the highlight of my day.”

Warmth floods your cheeks as you get comfortable against the pillows. “Flatterer. Now distract me from the drudgery of royal life with some F1 gossip. How go things in the glamorous world of racing?”

“Oh where to even start!” Oscar launches eagerly into the latest paddock drama — teammate clashes, contract disputes, and salacious hookups. You listen eagerly, living vicariously through his tales.

“Meanwhile Lando has been his usual chaos gremlin self ...” Oscar continues, recounting his teammate’s latest antics.

You laugh until your sides ache, picturing the outrageous scenes. “Honestly, I don’t know how McLaren copes with you two!”

“We keep things lively, that’s for sure,” Oscar agrees, audibly grinning. “Although we’d love an even livelier paddock with a certain Danish princess around again ...”

He leaves the statement hanging tentatively. You chew your lip, heart racing as you gather your courage.

“Funny you should mention that … I’ve been thinking lately that it would be nice to attend a race again soon.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale crackles through the phone. “Really? You’d come to another race?” His voice turns playful. “Any particular reason for the sudden interest?”

You laugh, hoping he can’t hear the breathlessness in it. “Oh you know, miss the atmosphere, the excitement ...” You pause before adding softly, “Getting to see a certain Aussie driver again.”

Oscar makes a pleased little noise that sends butterflies swirling wildly. “Well I’m sure that driver would be absolutely thrilled to see your face in the paddock again.”

Warmth spreads through your chest, emboldening you further. “As it happens, my godmother is the Queen of Belgium. So it should be easy enough to arrange an appearance at the Belgian Grand Prix.”

“That’s perfect!” Oscar enthuses. “Spa is one of my favorite circuits too. Say you’ll be there?”

His boyish eagerness melts your heart. “I’ll speak to our communications secretary this week. I’m sure they can make it happen.”

“Brilliant.” The tender hope in Oscar’s voice finds its mirror in your own thudding heart. A new chapter is beginning.

You chat longer about lighter topics until Oscar reluctantly says he should get some rest before practice tomorrow.

“I suppose I should let you go then ...” He trails off reluctantly, neither wanting to be the one to end the call.

You clutch the phone tighter, casting wildly for an excuse to keep him on the line. “Wait, you haven’t told me what ridiculous outfit Lando is wearing today!”

Oscar huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, words don’t do justice to the monstrosity. I’ll send pictures so you can experience it fully.”

“It’s a deal.” You know you’re only delaying the inevitable, but the thought of hanging up is unbearable.

Just then, the bedroom door crashes open and your younger brother Christian strolls in.

“Hey Y/N, Mor wants to know if … is that Oscar you’re talking to?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

You frantically shoo him away but Christian swoops in and plucks the phone from your hand. “Sorry mate, gotta steal my sister back. Royal duties call and all that. But great chatting, bye now!”

Before you can wrestle the phone away, Christian ends the call with a cheeky grin.

You smack his shoulder indignantly. “You little brat! I was right in the middle of important diplomatic relations!”

Christian just cackles gleefully. “Oh yeah, I could tell. Your dopey romantic sighing was a big clue.” He laughs harder at your outraged stammers.

“Just you wait until you’re madly pining over someone, I’ll get my revenge,” you threaten.

But inside, not even Christian’s teasing can diminish your euphoria. The promise of seeing Oscar again soon eclipses all else.

***

Your heels click rapidly over the pavement as you sweep through the Spa paddock gates. Bodyguards trail discreetly behind but you barely notice them, eyes scanning the bustling crowd for one face.

And then you see him. Oscar stands just ahead, back turned as he bounces on his toes, head swiveling in search of you.

Joy bubbles up in your chest. You break into a run, calling his name. “Oscar!”

He whips around, eyes lighting up when they land on you. His arms open wide and you launch yourself into them with a breathless laugh.

Strong hands grip your waist, swinging you in an enthusiastic circle before setting you back on your feet. Neither of you make any move to step back, standing tangled together.

“You came,” Oscar murmurs, voice awed like he can’t quite believe you’re real.

You lean into him, his warmth chasing away the months spent missing him. “Of course. After all, I made a promise to a certain driver.”

Oscar’s answering smile outshines the sun. Reluctantly, he loosens his hold, keeping one hand entwined with yours.

“Well then, allow me to escort you inside properly.” He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles before leading you towards the paddock entrance.

After scanning your VIP guest pass, courtesy of Oscar, you pass through security hand-in-hand, giddy smiles fixed in place.

The paddock buzzes with activity but you only have eyes for Oscar as he guides you straight to the McLaren garage.

Mechanics glance up curiously as you enter behind Oscar. He squeezes your hand, leaning in close.

“Ready to meet the team, Princess?” At your answering nod, he steers you confidently through the organized chaos.

You run a suddenly nervous hand over your hair as Oscar approaches a genial looking man conversing with a slimmer bearded man.

“Zak, Andrea — there’s someone special I want you both to meet.”

The two men turn, eyebrows raising in polite expectation. Oscar gently tugs you forward.

“This is Crown Princess Y/N of Denmark. Y/N, meet Zak Brown, our CEO, and Andrea Stella, team principal.”

Zak’s eyebrows climb higher but he recovers smoothly, extending a hand. “Your Royal Highness, welcome. We’re honored to host you in our garage.”

You return his firm handshake. “The honor is mine, thank you. Your team has been so welcoming.”

After greeting Andrea as well, Oscar steers you further inside just as a mop of fluffy brown hair zooms by.

“Oscar, mate! There you are, I’ve been ...” The words die on his lips as he spots you, mouth falling open comically. His eyes dart between you and Oscar rapidly.

“Lando, come meet the princess!” Oscar calls out cheekily.

Lando snaps his jaw shut, looking utterly bewildered but offering you a hasty bow. “Your Highness! I mean, lovely to meet you, really.”

Amusement flickers through you at his gobsmacked expression. Oscar shoots you a playful wink over Lando’s shoulder as he scrambles to regain composure.

“But, wait.” Lando glances between you again in confusion. “You mean all those times you cooed ’good morning, Princess’ over the phone … you were talking to an actual princess!”

Oscar bursts out laughing while you press a hand to your mouth to smother your own giggles. Lando flushes but eventually joins in your laughter.

After extracting a promise to explain everything later, Oscar steers you away so they can focus on final prep.

“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of during the race before I have to suit up,” he promises, getting you settled with refreshments.

The anticipation builds until finally the cars are screaming away from the grid in a blur of color. Your nails dig into your palms as positions shuffle wildly on the first lap.

But soon Oscar settles into a rhythm, battling wheel to wheel with Lewis Hamilton. You’re on your feet with every overtake, yelling yourself hoarse.

The final laps loom with Oscar still fighting for a podium finish. But suddenly disaster strikes for the leaders. Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc collide attempting to lap a backmarker on the Kemmel Straight.

You watch in disbelief as both the Red Bull and Ferrari limp to a stop off the track, clearing the path for Oscar to sweep through into the lead.

The McLaren garage roars in elation as Oscar maintains the gap and finally, finally crosses the line to claim his maiden Grand Prix win.

Chaos erupts as a stampede of papaya uniforms makes its way towards parc fermé but Oscar’s performance coach Kim grasps your arm urgently. “Quickly, he’ll want you there for this!”

Kim rushes you down towards the area where Oscar guides his car to a stop. He vaults out, pumping both fists and clambering atop the chassis in triumph.

Your breath catches at the sight of his windswept hair and exultant grin. As McLaren swarms Oscar, his gaze catches on you at the barrier, pressed close by Kim.

In two strides Oscar is right there, joy and adrenaline shining in his eyes. His hand cups your cheek … and then his lips find yours.

The roar around you fades away. For one perfect, suspended moment, your world narrows down to Oscar’s lips slanted over yours, his fingers tangled in your hair.

When you break apart, eyes flying open, the full reality crashes back in. But with Oscar’s breathless laugh warming your skin, the rest of the world no longer matters.

***

You pace the plush hotel carpet, nerves jangling as you await the imminent video call with your family. Since Oscar’s podium kiss yesterday, you’ve been hyper aware of your phone blowing up with notifications but too anxious to check them.

A brisk knock precedes your royal secretary poking his head in. “The call is ready whenever you are, Your Highness.”

Squaring your shoulders, you take a seat at the polished desk as the large monitor springs to life. Your family’s faces fill the screen, ranging from sympathetic (Isabella) to highly amused (Christian).

Before you can get a word in, the royal PR advisors elbow into view, expressions like thunderclouds.

“Your Royal Highness, might we have a word about this … incident from the race?” The chief advisor’s tone drips disapproval.

Ice trickles down your spine but you keep your face neutral. “Of course.”

“I trust you’ve seen the coverage?” At your hesitant nod, the advisor continues, “Then you understand what an embarrassment this is, how damaging to the dignity of the crown.”

You clench your jaw, anger rising. But he barrels on, “Such scandalous behavior, and broadcast globally! You must see how this recklessness reflects poorly on Denmark.”

The rest of the advisors murmur emphatic agreement. Your cheeks burn in humiliation even as you desperately blink back furious tears.

“The narrative has already spiraled out of control. Such associations cannot be tolerated from the future queen.”

The scorn in his tone ignites your temper. But before you can spit out a scathing retort, a commanding voice interrupts.

“Enough!” Your father’s stern face fills the screen, pinning the advisors with an icy glare. They recoil, mouths snapping shut.

Satisfied, your father turns to you, expression softening. “My dear, you’ve done nothing wrong. What matters most is that you’re happy.”

Hope flickers tentatively inside you as the advisors gape. But your father silences them with another quelling look.

“I know a thing or two about duty versus matters of the heart.” His eyes soften, finding your mother. “I’ll not see my daughter denied the same chance at love that brought me such joy.”

Your mother smiles gently, affection shining through the screen. On her other side, Isabella squeezes her shoulder in solidarity.

The fight drains from the advisors under your father’s resolute gaze. With a few grumbled concessions, they disconnect from the call.

Your muscles uncoil in relief as your attention returns fully to your family. Isabella waggles her eyebrows.

“Soooo … looks like someone had an eventful race!”

Heat floods your cheeks but you can’t suppress a giddy smile. “It just sort of happened in the heat of the moment.”

“This Oscar must be something special,” your mother remarks kindly.

Your insides turn to mush at the memory of Oscar’s kiss. “He really is. I can’t explain it, but it feels … right with him.”

Your normally stoic mother looks touched. “Then he has my blessing.”

On her other side, Christian smirks. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re in looooove.” He exaggerates a swoon, cackling when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Hush dear, let your sister be happy,” your mother chides, swatting his shoulder before smiling indulgently. “Reminds me of another young prince long ago, besotted with an Australian girl ...”

Your father laughs, eyes crinkling. “Too right, darling. Clearly our Y/N takes after me.” He winks at you. “We Danes do seem to have a weakness for Aussies.”

You groan good-naturedly at the gentle teasing, buoyed by your family’s support. With their love behind you, the rest no longer matters.

You conclude the call with hugs blown through the screen and a heart full to bursting. No matter what the coming days hold, you won’t be facing them alone.

Later, a hesitant knock interrupts your contented musings. You open the door to find Oscar, eyebrows pinched anxiously.

But at the sight of your radiant smile, the tension melts from his frame. His hands settle comfortably on your waist like coming home.

“So ...” he begins, nose scrunching up adorably, “Think your family will let you keep me around?”

You answer by pulling him down into a long, sweet kiss. When you finally separate, foreheads pressed together, Oscar sighs out, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Your answering laugh fills the space between you as he lifts you effortlessly into a spinning embrace. The setting sun gilds the hotel room in amber, basking you both in warmth and promise.

Let the world say what they will. You’ve made your choice, the only one your heart would allow. And with Oscar’s arms encircling you now, you know you’re right where you belong.

***

“Come on, it’ll be great! When’s the next chance you’ll get to come down under?”

Oscar’s pleading face fills your laptop screen, bottom lip poking out beseechingly. You try to stand firm, but your resolve is crumbling.

“I don’t know … won’t I be imposing on your family time?”

Oscar waves a hand breezily. “Nah, Mum and Dad have been hassling me nonstop to bring you for a visit. Trust me, they’ll smother you with Aussie hospitality.”

You chew your lip thoughtfully. A trip together does sound tempting. And you’re endlessly curious to see where Oscar grew up.

Sensing your wavering, Oscar presses his advantage. “There’s so much I want to show you! The beach I learned to surf at, my favorite cafes and shops ...”

His voice turns coaxing. “And just think, falling asleep under the southern stars ...”

Your heart flutters traitorously. Oscar knows your weakness for astronomy. With a defeated huff, you nod.

“Oh alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for next month.”

Oscar whoops, pumping a victorious fist. “Yes! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

The rest of the call passes in eager planning until Oscar reluctantly disconnects to start his day. As the screen goes dark, butterflies swell in your stomach. A whole trip together!

The weeks crawl by agonizingly until finally you’re boarding the royal jet bound for Melbourne, giddiness rising with each mile.

Oscar is waiting when you deplane, sweeping you up joyfully the second your feet hit the tarmac. You cling to him, breathing in the scent of home you’ve missed so much.

As the hug extends well past proper etiquette, your bodyguard Henrik pointedly clears his throat. You spring apart, blushing when you meet his knowing gaze.

Oscar just grins unrepentantly, grabbing your hand to lead you towards where his parents are waiting.

You spot them immediately — Oscar’s smile mirrored on his mother’s face and his kind eyes reflected in his father’s crinkled gaze. They hurry over, clasping your hands warmly.

“Your Royal Highness, we’re so honored to finally meet you!” His mother gushes. “Oscar’s told us so much, I feel as if we know you already.”

You smile, charmed by her easy manner. “The honor is mine, Mrs. Piastri. Please, call me Y/N.”

She pats your hand merrily. “Of course, dear! And you must call me Nicole. Now come, let’s get you home and settled.”

The ride to Oscar’s childhood home passes quickly, filled with lively conversation. His parents’ sweet banter reminds you so much of your own.

When you arrive, Nicole loops her arm through yours, bustling you inside. “We’ve freshened up Oscar’s old room for you, I do hope it’s comfortable.”

You take in the posters of racing legends and cricketers adorning the walls, the cluttered bookshelves full of well-loved texts. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

“Excellent!” Nicole claps her hands. “Now, you two get settled. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

She disappears down the hall with a parting wink that makes Oscar flush beet red. You stifle a laugh and let him tug you further inside.

Dinner passes in a blur of delicious food and easy laughter. Chris’ eyes twinkle knowingly as he refills your wine.

“We’re just delighted to finally meet the girl who’s made our Oscar so happy.”

Oscar covers his face in exaggerated mortification, but his fingers squeeze yours under the table. You lift your joined hands to brush a kiss over his knuckles when his parents aren’t looking.

The peaceful mood continues as Nicole breaks out photo albums. You coo over baby pictures of Oscar, smothering laughter at his gap-toothed grin and wild hair.

Yawns eventually take over and everyone reluctantly shuffles off to bed. In Oscar’s room, you borrow his old karting club shirt to sleep in.

Oscar looks up from turning down the duvet, eyes darkening as he takes you in. “This was a terrible idea, you looking so cute in my clothes.”

You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose before climbing into bed and patting the space next to you. Oscar obliges, pulling you close and nuzzling into your hair.

Outside the window, the infinity of the southern skies beckons. But here in Oscar’s arms, you have everything you need.

Oscar hums contentedly, dropping a kiss to your hair as your eyes drift closed.

“Sweet dreams, my princess,” he whispers. You float off cradled in his warmth, perfectly at peace.

The rest of the trip passes in blissful domesticity — lazy beach days, intimate dinners, long talks under the stars. Meeting Oscar’s family feels like coming to a second home.

On your last night, you creep outside to sit curled against him on the back porch, committing every detail to memory.

“I don’t want this to end,” you whisper into the quiet night.

Oscar presses a lingering kiss below your ear. “It’s only the start for us.”

And basking in his touch, the infinite potential of the future unfolding before you, you know he’s right. This is just the beginning.

***

You smooth your hands over your dress, peering anxiously out the palace window overlooking the winding driveway. Any moment now, the car bringing Oscar should pull through the gates.

It’s his first time visiting the palace and meeting your family officially as your boyfriend. You know they’ll love him, but nerves still flutter in your chest.

The crunch of tires on gravel draws your gaze back outside. You watch Oscar emerge from the car, craning his head back to take in the towering palace facade.

Unable to wait any longer, you gather your skirts and hurry downstairs just as he steps inside the grand entryway.

Oscar turns at the click of your heels, face melting into a smile. In a few quick strides, he sweeps you into his arms, spinning you joyfully.

You cling to him, breathing in the soothing scent of home you’ve missed. When he sets you down, hands come up to frame your face tenderly, thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“There’s my beautiful girl. I’ve missed you so much, Princess.”

Heart swelling, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss that conveys weeks of longing. Oscar responds urgently, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

A pointed cough interrupts your reunion. You pull back to see your brother Christian smirking knowingly.

“Well now I see why you were so eager for Oscar’s visit. Should I come back later?”

You stick your tongue out at him even as a blush stains your cheeks. Taking Oscar’s hand, you lead him towards the family wing.

“Come on, everyone’s excited to finally meet you properly.”

Voices carry from the dining room as you approach. Inside, your family looks up, faces alight with warmth and curiosity.

Your father strides forward first, clasping Oscar’s hand firmly. “Oscar, welcome. We’re delighted to have you here.”

Oscar returns the handshake graciously. “The honor is mine, Your Majesty. Thank you for the invitation.”

More greetings follow before your mother guides everyone to the table. Oscar pulls out your chair, pressing a discreet kiss to your temple as you sit. Happiness bubbles up inside at having him here with your family.

Dinner passes enjoyably, conversation flowing. Oscar charms them all effortlessly with his quick wit and humor. Laughter fills the room, the atmosphere light and intimate.

With dessert finished, your siblings seize their chance to grill Oscar playfully.

“Sooo tell us,” Isabella begins, propping her chin on her hands. “What exactly are your intentions with our dear sister?”

Oscar just grins, unfazed. “Why, to make her happy every single day, of course.”

You melt at his simple sincerity, grasping his hand under the table.

“Good answer!” Christian crows. “But know if you ever hurt her, you’ll have the entire Danish army to answer to.”

Despite his teasing tone, you know Christian means every word. Oscar inclines his head solemnly.

“You have my word such a day will never come. Her happiness means everything to me.”

Your siblings appear satisfied, moving on to pepper Oscar with questions about his career and interests. He takes their antics in stride, witty comebacks drawing fond laughter from your parents.

The relaxed family atmosphere reminds you so much of that first dinner at Oscar’s childhood home. Your heart swells with quiet joy at how seamlessly he fits here too.

Eventually Oscar politely extracts you both, citing early flights in the morning. Alone in the hall, he sags against the wall in exaggerated relief.

“Whew, your family is something else! I think that interrogation was more intense than any press conference.”

You laugh and swat his shoulder before lifting on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You were wonderful. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Oscar’s eyes soften. “Me too, Princess. Being here with you feels like home.”

Heedless of any lingering eyes, you kiss him again under the twinkling chandelier.

A loud retching sound interrupts you. “Ugh, get a room you two!” Christian complains, dodging your swat.

Oscar just tugs you closer with a chuckle. “Don’t worry mate, I plan to.”

He silences Christian’s protests with another searing kiss. And surrounded by Oscar’s warmth, you can’t bring yourself to care who sees.

***

Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. You lay curled against Oscar’s chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his heart.

The steady rhythm soothes you, but your own heart feels anything but calm. There’s something you need to discuss, but nerves stall your tongue.

Sensing your tension, Oscar’s hand comes up to sift gently through your hair. “Penny for your thoughts, love?”

You lean into his touch, gathering courage. “I was just thinking about the future. Our future.” You twist to meet his gaze. “I know it’s still early days for us, but if this continues to get more serious ...”

You trail off uncertainly, but Oscar’s eyes are warm with encouragement. Bolstered, you continue.

“There are certain expectations that come with being attached to the heir to the throne. Traditions and duties to learn.”

You watch Oscar’s face closely, but he simply nods thoughtfully. “Of course, that makes sense. I’m happy to learn whatever I need to.”

Relief trickles through you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, smiling softly down at him.

“For example, even before my mother was engaged to my father, she decided to learn Danish. The protocol and duties, the public role … it was a massive life change.”

You take a bracing breath. “I don’t expect you to make such changes overnight. But someday, if this continues on the path we hope ...”

You trail off meaningfully. Oscar’s hand comes up to cradle your face. “Hey, if being with you means learning Danish, or attending stuffy banquets, or anything else, I’m in this 100%.”

His eyes bore into yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to build a life together.”

Emotion clogs your throat. You have to swallow thickly before responding. “Well, maybe we start small then. How about I teach you a few phrases?”

Oscar grins, pulling you back down against him. “Ja, det lyder perfekt.”

You jerk back in surprise, swatting his chest. “You brat, have you been practicing without telling me?”

Oscar’s eyes dance with laughter. “Maybe just a few key phrases. Wanted to surprise you.”

His smile turns tender. “I’d love nothing more than for you to teach me, sweetheart.”

Happiness bubbles up inside you. You snuggle closer, thinking. “Alright, let’s start simple. Like hej simply means hello.”

Oscar repeats the phrase dutifully, brow furrowing in concentration. You cover his hand with yours.

“Jeg elsker dig,” you murmur, gazing into his eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” Oscar echoes. “What does it mean?”

Sudden shyness has you ducking your head. “It means I love you.”

Oscar’s sharp inhale lifts your head. He grasps both of your hands, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Jeg elsker dig,” he repeats reverently.

Emotion clogs your throat. You lean in, whispering against his lips, “Jeg elsker dig, Oscar.”

The kiss starts soft and unhurried, a confirmation of feelings conveyed best without words. Oscar’s arms wrap securely around you as the kiss deepens, pouring every ounce of love and promise into it.

When you eventually break apart, Oscar keeps you cradled close, dropping kisses into your hair. “What else can you teach me?”

Happiness bubbles up at his tentative Danish endearment. You settle back against him, whispering translations as his steady heartbeat lulls you towards sleep.

But too soon, Oscar is reluctantly packing to leave, both clinging to these last private hours before he has to set off for the next race.

You wind yourself around him, unwilling to let go. Oscar holds you close, murmuring promises of next visits and calls into your hair.

As you finally part at the airport, his whispered “jeg elsker dig” warms you from the inside out. No matter the miles between you, your hearts remain entwined.

***

You adjust the diamond clips in your elegantly twisted updo, scanning your reflection critically. The deep blue gown hugs your frame perfectly, but nerves still flutter in your stomach.

Because tonight, Oscar will be attending his first official function as your partner — a lavish gala in honor of the new children’s hospital bearing your mother’s name.

A knock precedes Oscar peeking his head in, hands clapped over his eyes. “Safe to look?”

You smooth your skirt with a shaky exhale. “Yes, come in.”

Oscar drops his hands, mouth falling open. “Wow. You look absolutely stunning tonight, my love.”

He takes your hands, eyes roving appreciatively over you. “Going to have to beat all the envious blokes away with a stick.”

You laugh, swatting his shoulder lightly. “Oh hush. You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Piastri.”

And he does in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, hair swept back neatly. You brush a piece of imaginary lint from his lapel, nerves melting away under his warm gaze.

“Shall we?” He offers his arm gallantly. You lay your hand atop it, spine straightening.

“We shall.”

The ballroom glitters under fairy lights as you make your entrance, immediately garnering interested looks and murmurs. On your arm, Oscar draws admiring glances of his own with his rakish good looks and easy confidence.

You greet various dignitaries and philanthropists, Oscar a steady, charming presence at your side. As you speak with the hospital’s key figures, his hand at the small of your back anchors you.

But as the speeches drag on, Oscar leans in subtly. “Is it terrible I’m already bored senseless? I’d rather actually meet these kids we’re meant to be helping.”

You hide a smile behind your wine glass. The same restlessness plagues you as schmoozing patrons preen and prattle.

As dessert wraps up, an idea strikes you. You catch Oscar’s eye, tilting your head meaningfully at a side exit before excusing yourself discretely.

Understanding dawns on his face and he trails casually after you. In the entry hall, you hurry to a secluded alcove, grabbing his hand.

“Quick, while we won’t be missed. Let’s actually go see the children.”

Excitement flashes across Oscar’s face. “Brilliant thinking. Lead the way, Princess.”

Adrenaline courses through you as you sneak out to the waiting car, bodyguards eyeing you curiously.

“Rigshospitalet, please. Quickly.”

At the children’s hospital, you sweep inside, Oscar at your heels. The receptionist gapes as you approach.

“So sorry to drop by unannounced. We were hoping there might be a chance for us to visit with some of the patients?”

The receptionist’s mouth opens and closes before she stutters, “O-of course, Your Highness, right away!” Clearly your boldness has paid off.

You exchange exhilarated looks with Oscar as she pages a nurse to escort you up. On the cheery pediatric ward, you peek into rooms, greeting curious families.

At one doorway, a gasp stops you short. A little girl sits up in bed, pointing.

“Mama, it’s the princess! And her boyfriend!”

You glance at Oscar to find him rubbing his neck bashfully. Clearly his fame extends beyond the F1 sphere here.

You laugh and enter slowly. “We were hoping we might visit you, if that’s alright?”

The girl — Else — nods eagerly, blond braids bouncing. Her mother rises to curtsy but you wave her off kindly as Oscar produces a small plush racecar from his pocket, to Else’s delight.

As you chat and play with Else, joy lights up her face. For a short time, she’s just a normal girl again. Your chest aches at her bright spirit despite her poor health.

All too soon, a nurse taps her watch. As you make your goodbyes, Else throws her thin arms around your waist.

“Thank you! This was like a fairytale.” Over her head, her mother mouths a tearful thank you of her own.

You hug Else gently before kneeling down. “It was our honor. You stay strong, little one.”

Her returning whisper warms your heart. “Don’t worry, I will!”

Similar scenes play out in room after room. Your cheeks ache from smiling but it’s a welcome ache. The children’s awed joy makes the real reason for tonight crystal clear.

Watching Oscar kneel patiently as a shy boy shows him a prized toy car, your heart clenches with love. Catching your gaze, Oscar’s eyes mirror the same emotion.

Far too soon, your bodyguards notify you it’s time to return before your absence draws notice. A chorus of disappointed groans follows you out.

Back at the gala, you slip in just in time for closing toasts. No one seems the wiser about your little detour.

Under the table, Oscar squeezes your hand. The contact says it all — this is what truly matters. Not accolades or commendations, but joy brought to hurting hearts.

You know you’ll be back. Both of you. Not for galas or acclaim, but for the chance to see young faces light up, if only for a moment.

Late that night, you slow dance alone in the empty ballroom, music and laughter faded. Oscar’s arms circle you from behind, chin tucking onto your shoulder.

“I think tonight was the most important royal function I’ve ever attended,” he murmurs.

You cover his hands with yours, leaning back into him with a contented sigh. No more words need be said.

The rest of the world may see events like tonight as social currency and networking. But you hold the truth in your heart — the only currency that counts can’t be bought, only given freely through love.

***

Two Years Later

You smooth your hands over your dress, pulse thrumming as you await the imminent news conference. Just hours ago, the palace formally announced your engagement to Oscar, sending the public into a frenzy.

Now, you’re about to face the media together for the first time as an engaged couple. Press stands crowd the palace gardens, cameras poised and ready.

At your side, Oscar seems calm and collected, fingers threaded loosely with yours. But you sense the storm brewing beneath his tranquil surface.

You reach up and gently adjust his suit collar, fingers lingering on the lapels as you meet his eyes. He gives you a small, grateful smile before you both turn to face the expectant crowd.

Because today also brings another announcement — one that will upend Oscar’s world irreversibly.

Your father steps forward first to formally confirm the engagement and expound on Oscar’s character. As he returns to your side, Oscar squeezes your hand and you nod in encouragement.

Oscar clears his throat, stepping closer to the microphones. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Y/N and I are over the moon at the chance to spend our lives together.”

He gazes at you softly before continuing. “I’m truly the luckiest man in the world to have won the heart of Denmark’s lovely princess.”

You have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless then and there. Cameras flash brightly as Oscar details your romantic (and heavily abridged) love story, punctuated with charming wit.

But gradually, his mirth fades. With another fortifying hand squeeze, he steels himself for the harder part.

“While I’m elated at this new chapter ahead, it also brings difficult changes. I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1 following this season’s conclusion.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Oscar’s grip tightens as he pushes forward.

“As a member of the royal family, I will no longer be able to continue racing competitively. I am grateful to have achieved my dream this year of winning the championship.”

His voice falters briefly and your heart clenches. Racing is Oscar’s passion — having to walk away is unimaginably hard.

Oscar visibly gathers himself. “But as difficult as this is, marrying Y/N is worth any sacrifice. She is my true dream now.”

He turns to you then, eyes glistening. “The honor of being your husband eclipses any trophy or medal. You are my greatest victory.”

Emotion clogs your throat and without thinking, you wrap him in a fierce embrace. The rules of propriety fade away, only your pride and love for Oscar remain.

His arms clutch you close as flashes erupt around you. But in this moment, you see only each other.

Eventually you separate and Oscar takes your hand once more, gracing you with a tender smile. He turns back to the microphones for one last address.

“Til Danmark og det danske folk. Jeg lover at tjene jer med ære, respekt og kærlighed.”

The Danish press reacts first, visibly surprised and impressed at Oscar’s speech in their native tongue.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears at his poignant promise — to serve Denmark with honor, respect, and love.

Overcome with emotion, you step forward to the microphones as well.

“Oscar’s love for me and Denmark is clear to all who meet him. I am truly blessed to have found such a selfless, caring partner.”

Your voice wavers with feeling. “Though it grieves me to see his racing career ended prematurely, I could not be more proud of the man he is.”

You reach for Oscar’s hand, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes. “He gives up much out of love for me. I only hope I can bring him a fraction of the joy in return.”

Oscar’s fingers tighten around yours, eyes shining with affection. Cameras flash furiously at your raw display of love and emotion.

But you remain lost in Oscar’s eyes, the rest of the world fading away. In this moment, all that matters is your shared devotion and the bright future stretching before you.

Questions start flying from the excited press corps but Oscar politely extracts you both, ceding the floor to the waiting palace officials.

Alone inside once more, Oscar sags against the wall in clear emotional exhaustion. You wrap him in your arms, heart aching for the pain this transition causes.

Oscar clings to you tightly, face pressed into your hair. “I meant every word,” he whispers fiercely. “You are my whole world now.”

You draw back just far enough to meet his eyes, hoping he can see the depths of your love reflected there.

“I know, min kæreste. We’ll face this new future together.”

The answering kiss speaks what words cannot. No matter what comes, your love remains constant.

A new path lies ahead now, one you will walk hand in hand, till the end of your days.

***

Five Years Later

The roar of engines draws nearer as your car nears the Copenhagen street circuit. In the seat beside you, Oscar bounces his leg restlessly, face alight with anticipation.

In the backseat, your three-year-old daughter, Margrethe (affectionately called Maise for short), mimics her father’s excitement, chattering cheerfully about anything and everything.

You reach over to still Oscar’s jostling knee, smiling indulgently. “Easy there, we’ve barely arrived and you’re already wound up.”

Oscar shoots you a boyish grin. “Can you blame me? It’s been so long since I was last in the paddock. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Your heart swells with quiet awe once more at the sacrifices Oscar has made for your future together. While racing still runs through his veins, his duties as Crown Prince of Denmark now take precedence.

But today offers a joyous reunion, with Oscar instrumental in bringing Formula 1 racing back to Danish soil for the first time since 1962.

As the car pulls through the paddock entrance, Oscar cranes his neck eagerly, drinking in the familiar organized chaos. Before the door even opens, you hear a familiar voice shouting.

“He lives! The prodigal prince returns!” A blur of McLaren papaya hurtles towards Oscar as he steps out.

Oscar just manages to brace himself before Lando Norris tackles him in an exuberant hug. Laughter bubbles out of Oscar as he returns the embrace.

“Good to see you too, mate. It’s been way too long.”

You round the car to find Oscar’s former team already swarming him, clapping his back and jostling each other good-naturedly to greet their long-lost driver.

Oscar’s eyes shine as he falls back into easy banter, trading inside jokes and reminiscing. With Maise balanced on your hip, you hang back contentedly, letting Oscar have this moment.

As the reunion finally winds down, Lando gestures to you and Maise. “And who do we have here? Don’t tell me this little beauty is your daughter?”

Oscar beams, waving you both over. “She is indeed! Lando, meet my little girl.”

Lando pretends to stagger back in shock. “No way, our little Oscar is all grown up and domesticated now!”

Oscar shoves him playfully before sweeping Maise into his arms. “What can I say, my fast living days are behind me now.” He kisses Maise’s wavy hair, eyes finding yours. “I’ve got all I need right here.”

Your insides turn mushy at the adoration in his voice. The years have only deepened your love further.

More drivers trickle over to greet Oscar, ribbing him good-naturedly about his new royal status. But the obvious affection underlying the teasing is clear.

Zak Brown claps Oscar on the back. “It’s so good to have you back, even just for a day. You and your family should stay, watch the race from the garage!”

For a fleeting moment, naked longing flashes across Oscar’s face at the thought of experiencing race day excitement again up close.

But reality settles back in quickly, his expression turning regretful. “That’s a lovely offer, truly. But I’m afraid we’ll have to make our way to the royal box.”

He bounces Maise gently, tone wry. “Some of us have a job to do handing out trophies later.” Maise giggles and tugs at his ear happily, blissfully unaware of the wistfulness simmering beneath her father’s smile.

You slip your arm through Oscar’s, offering a comforting squeeze. His answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

After more fond farewells, you exit the nostalgic bubble of the garage. Oscar pauses, taking a moment to just breathe and gather himself.

You shift Maise to your other hip, wrapping your free arm around his waist. Oscar leans into you gratefully, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Can’t believe it’s been five years already,” he murmurs. “Feels like another lifetime.”

You smile up at him sadly. “I know, my love. But look at everything you’ve accomplished for Denmark in that time. This race wouldn’t even be happening without you.”

Oscar huffs a small laugh. “Too right. Who needs driving when I’ve got you two anyway?”

He tickles Maise playfully, eliciting delighted giggles. The melancholy edge has left his eyes now, replaced by contentment.

Hand in hand, with Maise toddling happily between you, the three of you set off together towards the royal box. The Danish Grand Prix awaits, along with the bright future you continue building as a family.

This may no longer be Oscar’s world, but he now shapes the path for future generations of drivers. After the race, as Oscar graciously awards the beaming winner while Maise excitedly cheers from the side of the podium, you know this is precisely where he’s meant to be.

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theguyinthemathexamples · 6 months ago

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Guns and... Aeons?

May Aventurine grant his luck upon everyone's Boothill pulls!!!

— C/W : spoilers?, set at the end of the 2.2 quest, boothill is boothill ft. argenti, i forgot what his lore is so take anything i say with a grain of salt, LOTS of yapping, guns and roses sneak, very self-indulgent :3

Boothill never really had much faith in Aeons, much less worshipped any. He already lost it all when he gained the information, that darned rain of fire that destroyed everything, was deployed by a zealot.

Don't get him wrong, he still knew they existed. But he internally wished that maybe, if any Aeon took pity on him on that day, maybe he could have changed the outcome of it all.

Well, that was all in the past now. He'd be a rusted out piece of metal by now if he let himself wallow in bygone events.

A low sigh didn't fail to make itself known, inadvertently catching the attention of the knight just at the other end of the room. Boothill even forgot he was there due to how quiet he was.

"A rose for your thoughts, friend?" The knight inquired, sitting at the other end of the couch. He nearly jumped at the sudden question but was just as quick to regain his composure.

"Nothin' much, just thinkin' and all," he replied, only tilting his head to look at this eccentric friend of his.

Ironic that Argenti was a man quite devoted to an Aeon, especially to a long deceased one, when Boothill was borderline detesting a good amount of them.

"This dadgum pull I've been feelin'... D'you know somethin' about it, knight?"

It was something he'd been feeling for a while now but it's been getting stronger as of late. And the voices... He'll leave those out till Argenti mentions something about it.

To put it frankly, he was worried. Quite more so if nothing else.

"Does it make you feel like wanting to visit the Astral Express, friend?" Argenti inquired shortly after,

Boothill simply nodded, curious as to how this Knight of Beauty knew of such. Sensing his curiosity, said knight certainly wouldn't mind going into the further details.

In fact, he was more than enthusiastic to do so.

"As Idrila's reason to have ascended into Aeonhood, it is only natural that I give high praises to the Aeon of Creation for such magnificence— that THEIR creations have inspired my Goddess to reach THEIR most pinnacle potential."

If this was how he talked about his Aeon and this... well, other Aeon, the two would be here till his batteries run out. And he was just about done recharging to full a few hours ago.

It wasn't till a good amount of minutes into the topic that Boothill kinda got a little impatient. No offense to Argenti, of course.

"And it wasn't till recently that their wondrous consciousness graced the unive—"

"Alright, alright, I get it, knight. Don't mean to offend ya, but can ya get straight to why I felt the pull earlier?" Boothill interjected, looking straight at his companion,

He swore that the way this man shone brightened up even more.

"My apologies if I overwhelmed you, dear friend," Argenti said, giving the cowboy an apologetic bow while he was sitting.

"Simply put, this pull you feel is but the manifestations of the Aeon of Creation! Perhaps your brilliant self captured THEIR attention when you were conversing with the Trailblazer," he continued, yapping up another storm as Boothill thought to himself.

"Seriously? This ol' hunk of metal? Catchin' an Aeon's attention? Colour me fudgin' surprised."

"Ah, this is certainly a moment worth celebrating, don't you think so, friend?" Argenti's voice spoke out, bringing his attention back to the knight.

Yet, before this interstellar cyborg cowboy could even agree or otherwise, a black envelope materialized in front of him, the edges lined with red and gold designs.

One surprise after another, huh?

The knight was quick to encourage him to open it up, taking out a letter opener from who knows where. Well now he's starting to get excited.

A golden Star Rail Pass was the first to get taken out of it, its colour shining in the midst of the room's lights. Next was a neatly folded paper that was probably penned by the Astral Express' Conductor. (Somehow; I mean, look at their itty bitty hands) It reads as follows:

—————————✧—————————

Hello, future Astral Express member, Boothill! This letter has been written by Pom-pom to formally invite you to join the Trailblaze.

By all means, this doesn't mean that you should abandon your faith for any Aeon(s) you may believe in, so long as it doesn't prohibit the other members of the Astral Express from going about their days.

As you may have guessed, yes, the golden ticket provided inside is a very formal way for Pom-pom to ask you to join us, as well as a sign that the Aeon of Creation has taken a liking to you!

To compensate for any forms of distress or trouble their consciousness has caused you, the Astral Express will be willing to offer a living space, electricity, wifi, food, water(gasoline?), as well as any other necessities and wants you may have.

Though if you truly want to seek trouble with the IPC, as the Aeon commented, please leave the Astral Express out of association for any crime you may commit in the future.

If you're ready to take on this journey with the Nameless, as well as many others, please use the ticket once the thought of doing so so much as suggests the notion.

• P.S. : Unfortunately, you don't have much time to mull it over, much less get another letter in this envelope to choose who to cover for you instead.

• The Aeon of Creation awaits your presence. •

—————————✧—————————

As Argenti finished reading the letter aloud, the expectant lilt on his face that he looks at Boothill with catches his attention the most.

"I nearly forgot to mention, dear friend, as a faithful believer of this Aeon, one can assure you that THEY don't mean any harm," he spoke, a smile gracing his lips as he continued. "The blessings THEY give to ones that they favour are quite abundant, and your captivating self truly made its impact on THEM."

"Even THEY couldn't help but praise you endlessly for your courage and demeanor!" Argenti proclaimed, almost making the cowboy in front of him want to tune him out again. ... That last part was a lie.

With a reluctant sigh, finally agreeing with the knight, the golden Star Rail Pass and the envelope in hand, Boothill stood up from his seat and went over to exit his friend's ship— to which Argenti quickly stopped him, hand outstretched for him.

"Need me to lead you there, friend?" He asks, head tilting to his left as his eyes brightened up with that usual glow.

"... Yeah, sure. Ya won't stop botherin' this ol' piece of metal to give ya updates if I said otherwise," Boothill laughed at the end of his reply, taking the knight's hand and letting him lead the way.

Maybe making a decision with a third party beside him won't be so bad.

Note : ong this took WAY TOO LONGGGGG TO MAKEEEEEEE 😭😭

My most sincere apologies to anyone whose patience ran out while waiting for this fic to come out 💔

BUT IT'S OUT NOW SO REJOICE EVERYONE ‼️‼️

Anyways, have a lovely day to all of you !! (disappears for another month)

And yes dw my interp of sahsr/sahsrau will come out maybe around late june once my recognition finally comes to pass

#sparkling wheat ♪#suspiciously shiny mint chocolate ♪#silver lined strawberries ♪#honkai star rail #hsr #sahsrau #sahsr #hsr argenti #hsr boothill #honkai star rail boothill #honkai star rail argenti #this took way longer to make than it should have 💀

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alotofpockets · 3 months ago

Text

Game changer | Daphne van Domselaar x Arsenal!Reader

Where Daphne falls for you, but thinks you are already dating one of your friends

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

The transfer of Daphne van Domselaar had been a rumour for quite some time before your club finally signed her for real. You were quite excited for the Dutch goalkeeper to make the move over to Arsenal.

You had played against her in the Aston Villa matches this season, and while it was frustrating that you couldn't get a ball past her, your admiration for her grew with each shot that she blocked.

She was a strong and confident player, and had been interested in knowing what she would be like as a person. So, of course when it was announced to the team that she would be joining you, you were the first to offer her a tour.

“Hey Daphne, are you ready for the grand tour?” You ask her after she got introduced during the first team meeting to kick-off pre-season. The warm smile on your face instantly calmed Daphne's nerves. “Yeah, that would be great.”

You show her around and enthusiastically tell her all about the Arsenal training grounds. Daphne immediately felt a sense of security. You were very easy to talk to, and your energy was contagious.

“So, how are you liking London so far?” You ask as you make your way over to the pitch.

“I only got here a couple of days to get settled, but so far I'm enjoying it. Definitely still a lot to figure out and explore.” Daphne replied.

“Well, good thing you have me then!” you wrap your arm around her shoulder in a side hug. “I'll be your tour guide, and show you all the best places.”

While you were training in London, you and Daphne hung out a lot. You kept your promise of being her tour guide, and wanted to make sure Daphne felt at home in the place you had called home for a few years now.

You visited some touristy spots, but you focused on your local favourites. Your favourite parks, shops, coffee shops. As many as you could fit in the short time you had before travelling to the US for your pre-season tour.

During the short time you had known Daphne, the two of you had grown quite close. You loved spending time with the Dutch woman. She was your seat buddy for both the bus ride over to the airport and on the plane to the US.

After the first training, which was just to loosen up their muscles after the long flight, Daphne spent some time with Steph and Beth. “You're both in a relationship, right?” When they both nodded, Daphne continued. “I don't mean to be rude, but I was wondering what it's like travelling so far and not having your partners with you. Is it hard?”

Beth was the first to answer, “Well, Viv and I have gotten used to it a little with both playing for different national teams. So during international breaks we are often in different parts of the world already. We make it work, and always try to focus on the reunion.”

“Yeah, and for me with Dean, it's just been so long, that by now it's pretty normal. I remember the first couple of times being pretty hard, but like Beth said, focusing on the reunion always gets us through.”

“Ah yeah, it must be so nice to reconnect after some time away from each other. Are a lot of the girls on the team in a relationship?” Daphne questions, and Beth and Steph start listing a few of the people.

“Let's see, was that everyone?” Steph asks. “Hm, what about y/n? Isn't she dating that girl? What's her name again, Lily?” Beth questions.

“Oh yeah, I never know with y/n, but I could totally see them being a thing.” Steph adds.

A part of Daphne was disappointed to hear that you might be in a relationship. Of course, the other part of her was happy for you. But, she had felt a connection with you that she had wanted to explore further, but she should probably set that aside until she was sure if you were or weren't in a relationship.

You thoroughly enjoyed your time in America, as you loved exploring new places. With the team you visited a bunch of tourist attractions, besides the training, which you were quite happy about.

When you got back home, you continued training for the upcoming season. Your free time consisted of hanging out with your friends, and your teammates.

It wasn't until the first wsl match of the season that the two groups mixed again. Your friends in the stands while you were on the pitch playing with your teammates.

Once the match is over and you spend some time with the fans, you head over to your friends. You hug Jack, Mila, and Morgan first, and lastly you kiss Lily on her cheek and keep your arm around her as you’re talking with your friends. Daphne looks at the scene in front of her, and with the words from Steph and Beth echoing in her mind, she concludes that you are in a relationship.

As you’re talking with your friends, your eyes keep wandering over to Daphne, as she’s interacting with the fans. Her eyes occasionally flicker over to you, you wave at her the first time that you notice. She smiles back, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Before you can think much of it, Lily nudges you. “So, how is it going with the new goalie?”

“Yeah, she’s great. I think she’s fitting in well with the team.” Morgan cuts in, “You know that’s not what Lily was asking.” Your brow furrows, “What do you mean?”

Your friends collectively roll their eyes. “Do we really need to spell it out for you?” Jack chuckles. “You’ve been hanging out with her all of the time, there has to be more going on between the two of you than just being teammates.”

“We’re just friends.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. “Then why are you as red as a tomato right now?” Lily teases. “I- eh, cause I’m a gooner. It matches the club colour, you know?”

You could see how disappointed your friends were with your joke, but it’s not like they weren’t used to them by now. “You should ask her out. She’s clearly into you as well.” Mila opts. “What? No, I can’t just do that.”

Before you can protest any further, Lily shouts “Daphne!” The girl looks over at her name being called from your direction and meets five pairs of eyes looking at her. Lily motioned her over, and when she finished signing a jersey, she came over.

She looks between you and Lily with a questioning look. You had stepped away from her side, because you were not agreeing with her calling Daphne over and had a nervous look on your face.

Before your friends could embarrass you more, you took ahold of Daphne’s hand and pulled her back onto the field. “Is everything okay with Lily?” You look at her confused, “You know Lily?” Daphne shook her head, “Well, no, not really. Beth and Steph said the two of you were dating, so I assumed that was her.”

You stop dead in your tracks, “They said what?” You shake your head, “Ew gross. Lily is my best friend from kindergarten, and also very straight.” Even the idea made you laugh.

Daphne took the news as a game changer, maybe the connection and the vibes she had felt with you, did mean what she thought you did.

“It’s funny, because Lily was actually calling you over to get me to ask you out.” Your eyes widened when you realised what you had just said, “Wait! Ehm I-” Daphne interrupts you before you can make a fool out of yourself. “I would love to go out with you.”

Your face lit up, “Really?” She nodded with a chuckle, “Yes, of course. I felt like we were already going on little dates, though we never actually called them that. And well then Beth and Steph put me on the wrong path.”

“I’m gonna need to have a word with those two, can’t start spreading rumours about me.” You laughed together at the situation, before meeting back up with your friends to properly introduce Daphne to them.

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#daphne van domselaar #daphne van domselaar x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #nedwnt #nedwnt x reader #arsenal wfc #woso #woso x reader

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hwangism143 · 6 months ago

Text

empty

synopsis: minho and his antics, of which you and your family must endure.

pairing: dad!minho x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: mentions of food, vaccines (?), swearing

word count: 1.2k words

now playing: seven - taylor swift

requested: by @stayinlimbo (have your own requests? find the prompt list here)

a/n: i could have made this very angsty and sad. i could. but i didn't since i'll save that hurt for later and dad minho is simply top tier. also, this is a first day of school present (pls wish me luck).

"just like a folk song, our love will live on"

There were several problems in the world that you should have been worried about: poverty, hunger, war; but there was only one problem in your world which you were currently worried about: a purple lunch bag.

You set off on your conquest, the lunchbox being lost to the point where you were rummaging in places where you knew it wouldn't be. (The act certainly did earn you confused stares from your family, wondering why you were rifling through the shoe closet.)

As you continued tossing things aside and internally screaming at why something had to go wrong today of all days, you heard a meek voice coming from the living room, which was behind you.

"I'm sorry," the voice came, followed by a sniffle.

"No, don't be sorry. It's not you fault," Minho said softly.

You smiled softly at the interaction before focusing on the task ahead once again. When you finally spotted the lunch bag behind the cat food in the pantry, the gears in your head started turning. You let out a small laugh when you realized the scope of the situation.

Walking over to where the two other occupants of the apartment were standing, you held out the purple lunch bag and dropped down to your knees.

Your daughter Minji gasped in wonder, here eyes wide, "You found it!"

Share wrapped her arms around your neck as you responded tightly, "I sure did."

Over Minji's shoulder, you caught Minho's eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him and he just innocently blinked in response.

"Alright, all set to go?" Minho asked gently once Minji finally peeled herself of your body.

You both knew that the overtly long embrace was not only because of the then lost now found lunch bag, but because of the nervousness that was hidden deep in the crevices of her heart now that she had to face the reality of her first day of school.

No matter the amount of anxiety that resided in her though, because Minji's excitement overshadowed all else.

Nodding enthusiastically, she slipped her hand into Minho's. The juxtaposition of her tiny hand adorned with glittery bracelets and his larger hand with a single brown watch nearly made you tear up. Shit, were you pregnant again?

Minho and Minji were practically out of the door when she squealed, "Wait! I almost forgot!"

Shoving her lunch bag into the hands a perplexed Minho, Minji ran back inside and to the tiny corner of the living room where the cats were peacefully sleeping. Minho exchanged a glance with you and quickly whipped out his phone, not knowing what Minji was about to do but eager to capture it anyways.

Minji hurriedly bent down and placed a kiss on each cat's fur. "Be," mwah! "good," mwah! "and don't," mwah! "annoy mom," she finally finished with a content expression on her face.

You nearly doubled over in laughter and turned around to look at Minho. You expected him to have a similar reaction but instead found tears glistening in his eyes. Sending a pout his way, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you asked, "Are you crying?"

Minho sniffed, "No. Yes. Maybe."

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned against you, the two of you quietly observing the outcome of the life you had built together. Materialistically, it was a four bedroom house. Emotionally, it was home. Literally, the scene in front of you was a five year old girl kissing three cats.

To you, it was family.

You pressed your lips against his cheek. "Go drop Minji off at school," you told him sweetly, "And then we'll discuss why you hid our daughter's lunch bag behind the goddamn cat food."

Minho's eyes widened fractionally until he finally let out a defeated sigh. He shifted his position so that now, you arms were around his neck and his arms were around your hips. The lunch bag hung from his wrist and occasionally bumped against your body.

"The house will be so empty," he argued, "I'll have nothing to do and no one to talk too. And you know how I am when I'm alone."

It was true; Minho's separation anxiety was an extremely comical topic of conversation. When you took Minji to visit your parents for two days, Minho called up his members so much that you started to receive complaints from his friends.

("I took my son to get a vaccine," Hyunjin ranted, "A vaccine and this man was blowing up my phone with anime memes. I don't even watch anime!")

You were about to give him a response when Minji came over, shooting the two of you a dirty look. Minho chuckled nervously and quickly detached himself from you. You placed a kiss on Minji's cheek and with a 'bye mommy!', she was dragging her father out the door.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

She was one of the most treasured people in his life. He would move heaven and earth for her, at just a request. He would kill and die for her, at her behest.

Minho thought that losing her to that horrible institution would kill him. He was overdramatizing, per usual, but it still pained him. As soon as her hand slipped from his, it dawned on him just how easily temporal loss could turn into a permanent one.

But on his drive home, Minho reflected on her beaming smile that rivaled the beauty of a rainbow. He was going to watch his baby grow, and be there every step of the way. And threaten any significant others she finds on her journey during their first meeting with possible oven baking, if you allowed it.

━━━━━━━✦✗✦━━━━━━━━

Later that night, when you secretly told Minji about the mischievous antics her father was up to (he tried eavesdropping, but she promptly told him off), she gasped as if you had just fed her the juiciest piece of celebrity gossip their was.

She quickly admonished her father for it ("appa, that is not kind!") while Minho bit back laughter, silently convulsing at her words. He later moped around you when Minji went to bed, ignoring the way you were coaxing him into bed until you apologized.

When you asked him why you should apologize, he defended himself with "You can't go around sharing our inside jokes! I want something just for me and you. In case you were wondering, kisses and cuddles will help."

Soon, it became a Lee household tradition for Minho to hide Minji's lunch bag the first day of school. You and Minji would then wake up and pretend that there would be disastrous consequences if the lunch bag wasn't found.

Despite the changing environment and personal developments taking place in all of you, two things always stayed the same during these annual games: the now old and battered lunch bags and Minho's fond gaze as he watched his wife and daughter set out to find the lunch bag.

This was the same gaze he wore when he hid Minji's graduation cap and prom dress. It was the same gaze he had when Minji introduced the boyfriend he knew would be the one and watching her walk down the aisle.

It was the same gaze he portrayed on his face when he was old and graying, with Minji soon bringing over kids over her own and work drama.

He wore this gaze often and with pride because he knew, no matter how empty his house would feel at times, he heart would be filled with people he loved and people who loved him, never deprived.

please reblog and comment if you liked this fic! it means everything to me and I love reading your thoughts <3

main taglist (reply to be added):

@linoalwaysknows @moon0fthenight @hyulino @palindrome969

@squishybinnieee @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @stayinlimbo @farfromsugafanfic

@hongshuaknow @cookiesandcreammy

#- via's fics <3 #lee know #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n

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p0orbaby · 1 year ago

Note

can i request a katie mccabe x reader??

reader is pregnant with their 2nd kid and they go to watch one of her international games! pure fluff please :)

Family Fun Day

warnings: talks of pregnancy and morning sickness

a/n: I’ve been on a roll with the pregnancy fics recently I’m ngl

word count: 815

“Oh Christ, your mother is going to kill me” Katie mumbled to herself regretfully as she tried to wrangle a very squirmy toddler.

The task usually hard on a good day, but when a child is loaded with sugar and covered in, she wasn’t quite sure, it takes ten times more effort to keep them still.

“Who’s idea was it to give you chocolate, eh?” She asks her son who just looks at her with his bright blue eyes and confectionary covered cheeks.

“Well it certainly wasn’t mine”. Both Katie and your two year old turn their heads in unison at your voice. Two sets of eyes landing on you, finding arms folded and brow raised accusingly. “I leave you two alone for five minutes and look what happens”

You knew their tricks. They were the perfect tag team, and it was exhausting trying to keep up with them. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. The laughter, the chaos, and the love that filled your life were all worth the effort. Your family was your greatest joy, and you wouldn’t trade these moments for anything in the world. Even if your kid was covered in chocolate and ready to bounce off the walls.

“He just got confused,” she explained. “I said one, but he thought I meant one handful. An easy mistake to make”

You narrow your eyes, looking between the two of them with a smirk. “Sure babe”

Katie sets Finn down so he’s standing on an unfolded seat. His sticky little hand clinging onto hers like a lifeline. “You good?” She asks, eyes sliding to your protruding belly.

Despite your size, you didn’t actually feel too bad. It was the first trimester that almost killed you off. Morning sickness was no joke and it caused you your fair share of rough days. But now, well into the second trimester, you were starting to regain some energy and getting back to feeling a little more like yourself.

Katie had been incredibly supportive throughout it all, taking on more responsibilities at home and making sure you had everything you needed. She had a knack for making you feel special and loved, even when you felt like a bloated, hormonal mess.

You smile softly at your wife’s concern. “Never better”

Even now your wife was hesitant to leave your side. She glanced at the field, then back at you, a bit torn. “I’ve got to start my warm-ups soon, but I don’t want to leave you alone with his sugar rush,” she says, her eyes filled with guilt.

You chuckle and give her a reassuring nod. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, buddy?” You direct your question to your toddler, who beams and nods enthusiastically.

She smiles, relieved, and leans in to give you a quick kiss. “Alright then. Finn, you’re the man of the house while I’m out there scoring goals, okay?” She ruffles Finn’s dark hair, and he nods with a sense of importance, puffing out his chest a little.

Katie turns to you this time, “be careful. If there’s any problem with the baby, remember to flag-

“Flag down one of your medical staff, I know” you finish for her.

“Promise me”

You lean in for another kiss. Lingering long enough for her to know you will do exactly as she says if need be. “I promise. Anyway, I’m supposed to be telling you to be careful”

She grabs your chin with her thumb and forefinger to keep your eyes on hers. “I’ll try”

“Babe”

She rolls her eyes at your seriousness and smirks. “I promise I’ll try to be careful”

Well, you suppose that’s the best you can hope for.

Katie grins at your reluctance to take her word for it, and places a hand on your growing belly gently in appreciation. No words needed as you answer her silent question.

“She’s been kicking since we got here. I think the noise has woken her up” you state, stroking the top of your stomach.

Katie chuckles and leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your baby bump. “Sounds to me like she’s just excited for the game”

“Speaking of, you’re being summoned” you tilt your head in the direction of the field. Her teammates waving her down, instructing her to get into the grass sharpish.

She gives you a final quick kiss and ruffles Finn's hair once again. “I’ll see you both after the game. Love you”

“Love you too. Go show ‘em what you’ve got,” you say with a proud smile, watching her make her way down towards her team.

As the game begins, you and Finn settle in to watch and cheer for your favorite player, your heart swelling with delight. Your baby continues to kick and move inside you, as if she knows her ma is out there, ready to conquer the world.

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #woso imagine

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tortoisebore · 6 days ago

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more than enough (aka hey, sharpshooter sequel) sneak peek 🤲

since i'm not posting any of this until it's all written and i have absolutely no idea when that will be, i wanted to give u all the first 1,700ish words of the first chapter of part 2 to hold us all over <3

Sirius was in a surprisingly good mood.

He really shouldn’t be, all things considered. New York was at the tail end of a sweltering heat wave, for one—hot, humid August air rippled in wavy mirages off the streets, and the tiny window unit in his apartment didn’t do shit against the evening sun, and the bridge of his nose was still pink from a particularly long afternoon walk around Central Park last weekend, but nevertheless, he was in a very, very good mood. Maybe it was good karma finally coming back around, or the universe had woken up one morning and decided it was done fucking with him. After the shit show that had been his last semester of college—the entire eight months since January, really—he figured he deserved it.

“Iced Americano for Sirius!”

He darted through the sullen little crowd assembled around the pickup counter as the barista slid his drink forward in a plastic to-go cup. He popped on a lid and grabbed a paper straw with practiced speed, maneuvered his way back to the entrance and called out a quick “thanks” as he threw his shoulder into the door and raced off in the direction of the museum.

After graduation, he’d wormed his way into an internship at a modest little contemporary art museum tucked away on a shady street in the West Village. The pay was shit and the busy work was worse, but he’d been offered a full time apprenticeship after the intern contract expired, and since he wasn’t exactly in a position to be turning down jobs in the industry, he’d enthusiastically accepted. It would be a great first gig, if nothing else—he’d be working under a mid-level curator, sourcing pieces, filing paperwork, and arguing with estates over pricing and displays and whose name would be biggest on the programs. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, but it was real, and it would get his foot in the door of the curation world, and that’s what mattered.

To close out the summer, the museum had been hosting guest seminars all week for the dozen or so interns on staff. Most were at least mildly interesting, but it was Friday, and Sirius had quite magnificent plans for the weekend, so he was putting a hell of a lot of faith in this singular iced Americano to pull him through the next two hours of the last seminar.

His usual coffee shop around the corner was rarely busy, but today he’d gotten stuck behind a group of suits each ordering individual lattes and ended up cutting it a bit closer on time than he'd have liked. He skipped up the flight of stone steps at the front of the museum and checked his phone—he had four entire minutes to spare, thank god—and was just about to tuck it back away when it began vibrating in his hand.

He glanced at it again, gave a happy little hum and threw open the lobby door as he answered.

“Oh, hello.”

Remus gave a quiet little laugh on the other line, and oh, wasn’t that the most perfect little addition to an already especially wonderful afternoon? “Oh, hi,” he echoed. “You sound chipper.”

“Why, of course I do. It’s Friday afternoon and I have an ice cold coffee in my hand, Remus. The world is blossoming before my very eyes.”

“Wow. Good day?”

“Very. Yours?”

“Not a single complaint.”

Sirius hummed fondly. He slowed to a stop in the hallway outside the theater room, turning towards the wall so he wouldn’t be caught grinning to himself. “Are we turning into optimists?”

Remus tutted. “God, I really hope not.”

Sirius bit back a smile, tapped the toe of his shoe against the marble baseboards and pulled his phone away from his ear just enough to check the time. “I truly do hate to cut this short, but you’ve got about two and a half minutes before I’m supposed to be in this seminar.”

He heard shuffling on the other line, a muffled curse, and then Remus’ voice came from further away. “Shit—it’s already three?”

“Mhm,” he hummed around his straw. “Don’t tell me you’re about to be late to class, you heathen.”

“I forgot to set an alarm,” Remus huffed. “I keep severely underestimating how much time it’s going to take me to get through these global rhetoric readings.”

Sirius grimaced. “Hey, one more week, and then it’s goodbye, global rhetoric forever.”

“If the final doesn’t kill me first.”

“You’ll do great, you big old nerd,” Sirius chided. “I’ll help you study this weekend if you want. Run some flash cards, try some interrogation-style quizzing…”

“Interrogation style?” Remus repeated amusedly, his voice closer to the phone again.

“I’m thinking a good old-fashioned flashlight to the forehead might do the trick.”

“Depending on how the review goes today, I might just take you up on that.”

Sirius glanced behind him as a couple of the other interns wandered into the theater room, checking the time again to be safe. “You’re coming to me tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be over after class,” Remus replied. Sirius heard some shuffling, then keys jingling in the background. “That’s actually why I wanted to try and catch you before your seminar—do you have anything to make at home or do you want me to grab something on the way?”

“Oh, my hero,” Sirius gushed. “Yes, please grab something—get whatever you want. I don’t care as long as I don’t have to attempt to cook anything.”

“Hey, you did really good with dinner last week,” Remus offered kindly. “I went back for seconds, remember?”

Sirius hummed a flat note. “You’re biased, darling. Your opinion can’t be trusted.”

“I’d tell you if it was bad.”

“I really, really don’t think you would.”

Remus hesitated. “I mean…well. Maybe not. But I definitely wouldn’t have gone back for seconds if it was that bad.”

“Well, it’s your turn next, and I’m expecting opulence after last time, Lupin. I want nothing short of fine dining.”

“Oh, god,” Remus tutted. “I really should have done something easy and kept your expectations low.”

“At this rate you’ll be a full fledged chef by Christmas.”

“Well, tonight you’re getting something cheap and most likely dumped out of a paper box. No opulence allowed on a Friday.”

“Deal,” Sirius smiled. He snuck another look into the theater room, spotted a deck of slides thrown up on the projector, and sighed reluctantly. “I have to get in there in the next twenty seconds.”

“Okay,” Remus sighed back. Sirius heard a door shut and lock and imagined he was leaving his apartment for class. “I’ll text you when I leave school.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Have fun,” Remus smiled. “Love you.”

Sirius’ stomach fluttered. He couldn’t believe it was still doing that, all these months later, but it was a surprisingly frequent occurrence these days.

“Love you, too.”

He allowed himself five seconds to goon grin down at his phone after hanging up, to admire the newest in a lovely series of photos of the two of them he’d chosen for this week’s lock screen, and then turned on his heel and slipped into the theater room just as his supervisor began introducing the guest.

His usual seat in the second-to-last row was taken, so Sirius slid into one in the back with only a half-hearted little huff. If it were last month—last week, even—he might have put up a bit more of a fuss about losing his unassigned-assigned seat to a rando from the marketing team, but not today. No; today was Friday, Remus was bringing home something greasy and delicious for dinner, and Sirius couldn’t be bothered to be anything but ecstatic for the weekend. He took several long sips of his coffee when the slides at the front of the room flipped to a rundown of the talk—digital curatorial practices in contemporary media landscapes, how very tantalizing for a Friday afternoon—and settled in with a goal to stay at least a little awake for the next two hours.

The speaker—a short, middle-aged man with a vaguely northeastern accent—took off on his introduction, and something about the monotone drone of his voice sent Sirius drifting off into his thoughts nearly instantly. He fiddled with a chip on the back of his phone case for a moment before giving in and flipping it over. The photo from the weekend before waiting on the lock screen really was particularly swoon-worthy; what had started out as a double date picnic in Central Park with James and Lily had turned into an hours-long stroll around the reservoir that left Sirius and Lily sunburnt, James with an infuriatingly perfect tan, and Remus with about a hundred more freckles than he’d started the day with. The four of them had eventually parked it beneath the shade of a line of trees, sprawling out on the thin, brightly-colored woven blankets Lily had brought and savoring the warmth of the late evening sun. Sirius had been feeling especially fond, what with the smattering of new freckles dotted along the bridge of Remus’ nose, and the golden light of the sunset was practically glowing on his skin, so he’d tossed his phone to Lily and demanded she take a new photo for his lock screen.

The impromptu little shoot had produced several pictures that Sirius loved—one of the adorable, disgruntled scrunch of Remus’ nose as Sirius coaxed him up from his lounging on the grass, another of him carefully pulling Sirius’ sunglasses off and perching them on the top of his head, and this one, his favorite, of himself raised on his knees, pressed up against Remus’ back with his arms thrown around his shoulders, pressing a smiley kiss to his cheekbone. Sirius studied the photo and recalled the warmth of Remus’ skin, the surprised, breathy little laugh he’d let loose and the feel of his hand slipping around the back of Sirius’ neck, tugging him forward and craning his head back to press one, then two quick kisses to his lips.

A series of bright, fluttery feelings took off on a twirl somewhere beneath his ribs, pulsed warm and sugar sweet under his skin and made him bite back a smile. Sirius took a long, contented breath in and savored it.

Not so long ago, these quiet little moments of fondness were few and far between. However much he’d tried to convince himself otherwise at the time, Sirius had spent a good chunk of the spring with a heavy pit of anxiety in his stomach, entirely positive that his and Remus’ relationship was one more unresolved, petty fight and a couple of strained silences away from shattering for good. They’d started it off strong, but that last semester in Boston was hard in ways that neither of them were prepared for.

#fic: more than enough

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just-a-space-rabbit · 2 months ago

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Flufftober 2024 Day 8: Secret Relationship

Hero and Villain! The classic lovers from rival families. Only that the families are very enthusiastic rival farmers.

Flufftober 2024: Prompt List by @thepenultimateword

Hero x Villain TW: Lying Mood: Fluff

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hero opens up the backdoor as quietly as possible, the cold autumn night breeze began to flood past them, as they step outside into the dark.

“Where are you going?” Hero’s parents asked suddenly from behind, making Hero freeze up.

“I…! Um… I’m going out for milk!” Hero lies, and internally cringes at how bad of a lie that was.

“Milk?” Parent asked, looking both baffled and suspicious.

Hero hated having to keep their work a secret from their family, but they knew that it was necessary. Both since they would not accept and accept them… “Yes… Milk for um… a cake! I’m making a cake for a coworker, but I need more milk” they said, trying to at least make it somewhat believable.

“Hero… it’s eleven o'clock. Where are you going to find Milk at this hour? Also, we need to get up early tomorrow to prepare for the harvest festival. We don’t have time for milk and cake for coworkers” Parent asked, narrowing their eyes at the last word.

“Also” Other parents suddenly jumped into the conversation “Is this co-worker anything more than a coworker?”

“NO! Love ya both, see you tomorrow!” Hero yelled, cheeks blushing as they slammed the door shut and ran off. Once they had gotten far out of view, they checked their surroundings before jumping over the fence. There in the small dark corner they swiftly took off their clothing to reveal the green supersuit.

As they put on their mask they let their powers flourish, they took a long steady breath as vines began to grow from their hands shooting up into the air letting them launch themself over the buildings and into the night.

…

“Took you long enough” Villain smirked as Hero landed on their favorite rooftop, the city gleaming far below them. “I was getting so bored waiting for you I almost started a crime spree”

Hero only shook their head as they walked up to the criminal “Try it,” they too smirked leaning on the wall next to them.“I could do with some with some action”

Standing next to them, Villain looked deep into Hero’s deep brown eyes, and basked in its warmth. Villains felt themself softened as they cupped Hero’s face, responding to them with a light chuckle “nah… now that you are here. I would rather stay” they blushed, before softly and gently kissing the crime fighter’s lips.

“Sorry that I was late,” Hero whispered softly as their lips parted. “My parents are really busy at this time of year, and need my help with almost everything. So it’s getting harder and harder to sneak out-” they did not get to finish as Villain just kissed them again, softly pinning them against the wall.

“Why don’t you tell them what you're doing?” Villain asked curiously “my family knows who I am and they're don’t have any problem with it”

“Are you crazy?” Hero said, getting dragged out of the moment. “They would never leave me alone again, terrified of my safety” Hero said, pulling away from Villain. “Plus, half the city is currently in heated debate about… us”

Villain blushed for bringing it up in the moment. Then they thought about the news and the magasins, and how hard it had been to keep this a secret from everyone. “Yeah, at least my mom ships us!” Villain joked.

“Villain!” Hero snapped back.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Villain chuckled as Hero gave them a small punch in the arm. “Yeah, you're right. Maybe now is not the time for that.”

After the conversation stopped, the two simply sat down close to each other, looking up at the stars above, as they let the silence fill the space.

Despite being a bit annoyed at them, Hero still leaned into Villain, smiling softly. This was their favorite spot in the world and they loved being here with their favorite person. But they knew they could not stay for long.

Hero sighed, and Villain immediately knew what was up.

“Already?” they asked.

“Yes, sadly crime won't stop for love” Hero joked as they got up and stretched. “You're not planning any crimes tonight, right? I need to wake up early tomorrow”

Villain smirked as they joined them. “Nope, none planned. The only crime I have done the past weeks, is not ask you out on a date yet!”

Hero blushed at the words, but quickly smirked back at them. “Really…? So it was Supervillain who robbed the bank last week then?”

“Oi…” Villain said “don’t bring Supervillain into this.” But seeing Villain’s reaction only made Hero smirk harder. “And I mean what I said before.” Villain continued, “Do you want to go out on a date? A REAL one, maybe we can meet up at the harvest festival?”

“You know we can’t do that there!” Hero said horrified at the idea, “both of our families are going to join and it would end up as a disaster!”

“Aw come on, I know both of them can be fairly competitive.” Villain continued while Hero raised an eyebrow at the word ‘fairly’ as that word was doing a lot of heavy lifting. “But if we are just sneaky about it. No one will know!”

A small silence fell between the two before Hero gave Villain one last kiss “how about we meet before the firework show? In disguises! Then we can go for dinner after.”

“Deal! Let’s meet under the old oak tree!” Vilain said, blowing a kiss into the air as they ran off into the night.

… … … … …

Day 7 -🎃- Day 9

#flufftober2024 #hero x villain #hero and villain #hero x villain community #hero and villain community #my writing

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the83rdgenius · 10 months ago

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| Falling on Pavement |

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, No Pronouns for Reader, He/Him Pronouns for Lucifer, Fluff, Implied Slow Burn, First Kiss, Strangers -> Friends -> Lovers, Reader is bad at feelings, Reader is Oblivious, It kinda gets a little suggestive towards the end lol, Open Ending, 1.7k words.

A/n: Uhm i just wanna kiss Lucifer <3

Summary: When Lucifer asks you to go on a little night time walk, who are you to refuse?

Tags: @auphelia @suyacho @tighnarly @themovingcastlez

It had been a long day at the hotel and everyone had run off to do their own thing, and that’s when you decided to rest on the couch. You’d flipped through the various channels and ended up landing on something that was halfway interesting. That’s when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye, looking to the right you saw Lucifer standing there, a little awkwardly, too.

“Lucifer?” You called out.

His body stiffened before quickly turning to you and (trying) to laugh it off. “Mhm, yeah?”

“Are you okay..?” You questioned.

He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head. “Oh yeah, I’m okay.”

“Lucifer.” You pressed.

“Okay, okay, truth is I had something I wanted to ask you.” He admitted sheepishly.

You tilted your head in curiosity, waiting for what he was about to ask.

Lucifer fiddled with his thumbs as he slowly approached you. “Well, I was, uh, just wondering if maybe you’d like to go on a walk.. with me.. alone.”

“Oh.” You said without thinking. “Shit, sorry that’s not what I meant to say.”

Lucifer seemed to lean away for a split second before he heard your actual response.

Your next reply was more enthusiastic. “I’d love to!” Already you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, and embarrassment swimming in your chest. “Lemme go grab my shoes real quick, then we can go.”

Lucifer nodded and waited patiently for you to get your shoes on and meet beside him for this walk that was now lowkey making the both of you panic internally. Sure, the two of you had been more than well acquainted with since your arrival at the hotel, but there had always been this odd tension between the two of you that you could never quite put your finger on. Lucifer opened the door for you, holding it open as the two of you took a stroll down the street. You took in all the usual sights and sounds but this time with Lucifer beside you, talking to you. It was such an unusual feeling, enjoying the world around you with him by your side. Or at the very least it was weird to do such normal, mundane things with the king of hell beside you. It felt weird, like you were almost out of place here, but you shook away those thoughts.

You continued walking as Lucifer pointed out different places and the memories he had held onto with each place. It was when Lucifer pointed out the next nostalgic place that he had accidentally bumped his arm against your chest, which made the both of you instantly become hot with embarrassment. He looked at you first but then quickly averted his eyes, too ashamed to make eye contact with you. You wouldn’t even look at him, your eyes glued to the ground as you listened to Lucifer say multiple apologies. There was a moment of silence before anyone said another thing, the both of you were far too nervous to say a damn thing, but eventually you chose to speak up.

“Hey, it’s okay, it was just an accident. I’m sorry for not saying anything afterward, that was kind of shitty.” You admitted. You were a little ashamed for not forgiving him right on the spot, but in all honesty you were really embarrassed.

He turned to face you and you did the same, and as he spoke you took in each and every word he said. “You have nothing to apologize for. So, please, don’t.” He smiled at you, and just as he was going to say something else you saw something that filled you with fear.

You never told anyone before, even after joining the hotel, that before you had been welcomed into this safe haven, you had lived under one shitty ass roof with a very sketchy demon. That same demon you lived with for so long was the exact reason you came to the hotel. To be honest, you were ashamed to admit you made a deal with someone you most definitely shouldn’t have. You knew that if anyone at the hotel found out they’d try their best to find a way out of your deal. At least that’s what the fear told you every time you wanted to confide in anyone at the hotel. You hadn’t seen the guy since you escaped that night, and how you managed to escape his sights for so long was beyond you, but you weren’t about to cross paths with him anytime soon.

So, without warning you dragged Lucifer down a nearby alley and told him to be quiet, adding a hand over his mouth for extra measure. This was definitely going to come back and bite you in the ass in a few moments. Logically you knew he had nothing to be afraid of, but you were too scared of who you had just seen to let logic dictate your actions. You hadn’t seen him in quite some time, so you couldn’t help but let your initial instinct upon seeing him, be to run and hide. You waited until the coast was clear and the demon had completely walked out of view for you to weaken your grip. Lucifer pulled your hand off of his mouth and looked at you with a face of worry.

“So, mind telling me what all that was about?” He asked.

You sighed and tried to stand up and balance yourself before confiding in him, but as luck would have it you completely lost your balance and fell into his arms. It was almost too comical how coincidental it was, as if the afterlife was trying to throw you a bone, but it wasn’t like that between you and Lucifer. Was it? Sure, you had your tension with him and of course you had your wholesome moments with him just like you did with anyone else, but that didn’t mean you wanted him in any other way.. Right?

In the split moment that you had lost your balance and fallen into his arms, you had begun to think back to all your times with Lucifer, especially the ones where it was just the two of you. The wheels in your head started turning and thinking back to how your chest pounded everytime you were near him, or how you stared at him longer than others did, and the many other instances in your head in which time seemed to stop around him, you had begun to realize he was never just a friend to you. Fuck, you kind of knew that already, but you were just.. Not quick on the uptake. You’d never been good with feelings, even as a human, but this was a new low even for you, or maybe it was simply denial. You had soon forgotten the realization and the emotions that came with it once you looked up at Lucifer, gazing deep into his eyes.

His eyes were half-lidded and filled with yearning. Your chest began to throb, your body aching for his touch, and your hands slowly slid up the wall of the alleyway to entangle with his hands. Everything in your body was screaming for you to stop what you were doing, telling you that this was a bad idea. You didn’t know how it was wrong, but something about it felt too good to not be a sin. Before you realized it Lucifer had moved his hands so that they held onto yours. Instinctively you pushed your body against his as he leaned his face close to yours, he was mere breaths away from you when his lips hovered over yours. You waited with bated breath until his lips finally pressed up against yours.

Whether it was right or wrong mattered not to you anymore, the only thing you cared about was his lips against yours. You struggled to get as close to him as possible, even slithering underneath his skin wouldn’t have been enough for you. You had a sudden urge to devour him whole, eager to taste all the king of hell had to offer. Slowly your hands slid down from his hands, your nails scratching him as you made your way down. Once your hands had been at the same level as his hips you began to slide them underneath his shirt, lightly tracing a trail up his back with your nails. Lucifer opened his mouth in a breathless gasp, as if the air was sucked right out of his lungs, but it wasn’t long before his mouth made its way back to your mouth. Just like an animal craving something unattainable Lucifer slid his hands down to your hips and pulled you close to him.

It was shocking to think that this was your first kiss. That something passionate and hot could be the beginning of something so sweet and honest. As much as you wanted to continue this.. Amazing experience, you couldn’t help but pull away breathlessly. You looked up into Lucifer’s eyes and let out an airy chuckle.

“That was.. Wow.” You said quietly.

Lucifer rubbed the back of his head, looking to the side and chuckled at your comment. “Yeah.. Wow.” He replied.

You waved your hands in front of you frantically and apologized. “I’m so sorry! We shouldn’t have– I shouldn’t have done that, sir. Oh, fuck I’m so sorry.” You trailed off in a moment of panic, but a hand tilted your head up and you were then met with Lucifer’s empathetic expression.

“Hey, I liked it, and please, call me Lucifer.” He reassured you with a smile.

You opened your mouth to say something but Lucifer quickly shut you up with a kiss. He left you once again speechless and embarrassed. He held out his hand for you to hold and ushered you out of the alleyway.

“C’mon let’s head back.” He said smiling at you as if you were the greatest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

You nodded and squeezed his hand as the both of you made your way back to the hotel. You wondered what this meant for the both of you. What were you two now? Fuck if either of you knew. One thing you did know was that you definitely wanted to do that again.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel

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waytooinvested · 3 months ago

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Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 26

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lena was perhaps unreasonably proud of the small cup of lime jello she had managed to get her hands on, and bore it back to Kara with the air of a conquering hero bringing home the holy grail.

In her defence, it had been a mission to find. At L-Corp all she would have to do would be to buzz the request through to Jess, and within 15 minutes she would have had half a dozen different brands and flavours on her desk to choose from, but here at the DEO she had to do it the hard way. It turned out that surprisingly few of the very serious field agents, scientists and tech geniuses that worked at this particular top secret government organisation brought jello to work with them for lunch, and even fewer still had it untouched at 2.30pm. In fact, this applied to exactly one person in the entire building, as far as Lena had been able to ascertain: Ms Ewa Jagoda, alien toxicology specialist, jello enthusiast, and Lena’s official new favourite DEO lab technician.

She had intended to present the jello with a dramatised retelling of her misadventurous quest, both to keep up her own distraction and to make Kara laugh, but in the time she had been gone it seemed visiting hour had opened up. On one side of the bed J’onn was talking to Kara with a paternal expression that mingled stern and concerned in equal measure, while beside him Kelly gently combed the last traces of dried blood and street dust from her hair. Across from them Nia and Brainy were good naturedly bickering over the ideal placement and wording for a leg cast signature, passing a marker back and forth between them without stopping their debate long enough to actually write anything down. It was such a familiar scene, all of them talking over each other and cracking jokes, that it took a moment for Lena to work out what was wrong with it. Then it hit her: Nia, Brainy, J’onn, Kelly, Kara, but no Alex.

She was here, in the room, but rather than being gathered in by the bedside she was standing off to one side, leaning up against the wall with Kara’s chart in her hand. She had washed the tear tracks from her face at some point since they’d talked, but it did nothing to disguise the lingering redness around her eyes or the ragged scabbiness of a lower lip chewed to the point of bleeding one too many times. She was ostensibly making medical notes, but the fact that her gaze remained fixed on one point and she never actually put pen to paper suggested otherwise. Alex was clearly not okay.

Lena glanced briefly over at Kara, the part of her heart that always tugged in that direction urging her to move towards the bedside, to claim a place beside her, take hold of her hand and never let it go. Today of all days with her fear and shock still roiling just below the surface the instinct was difficult to ignore, but Lena managed to hold back. Kara was in the midst of a game of tic tac toe with Kelly on her otherwise still unsigned cast, and seemed happy with the company of her friends. She didn’t need Lena right now, and after a second or two more of silent internal wrestling, she made her way over to the elder Danvers sister instead.

‘Hey. All okay?’ she murmured, keeping her voice low enough not to draw anyone else’s attention to the question.

‘Huh?’

Alex stopped tapping the end of her pen against her teeth and looked at Lena distractedly, blinking slowly back from whatever thoughts had been absorbing her.

‘Oh, yeah, it’s all fine. She’s doing as well as we could reasonably hope for at this stage without you-know-whats, and there’s no internal damage to speak of. She should make a full recovery.’

‘That’s great news, but I actually meant you… no offence Alex, but you look awful.’

Alex snorted.

‘Thanks a lot Luthor. Do you actually know what no offence means?’

For once Lena hadn’t actually been trying to be provoking, but Alex had clearly taken the comment as part of their usual banter and huffed back at her, giving her a little poke in the ribs with the chewed end of her pen as if the comment had been a dire insult. Lena briefly considered apologising, but it was good to see the vague, distant expression transformed into Alex’s comfortably familiar trademark Luthor v. Danvers snark-battle scowl.

If she had been talking to Kara, or Jess, or even Sam, Lena probably would have gentled her approach at this point even so. She was concerned for her friend, and wanted to take care of her as best she could in their current circumstances. But she suspected that despite her protestations Alex, like Lena herself, would not want to be coddled right now. Breaking down in a roomful of people (even people you loved) was humiliating, and there was nothing that could bring down walls so effectively as someone being sweet to you when you were trying to be strong. So Lena wasn’t sweet. She folded her arms and met Alex’s glower with an unyielding look of her own.

‘Well, I’m not wrong.’

Alex narrowed her eyes, preparing to argue, but then apparently decided she didn't have the energy for it. She hugged the chart to her chest like it might somehow shield her, and let the scowl drop.

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘There’s nothing to talk about, really. It just- it feels different this time, you know? I’ve been here so many times before it should just feel like another day at the office, but it never does, and somehow this one’s worse than usual. For all the… incidents… we’ve had, they’re almost always in the midst of world ending fights where a certain amount damage is expected, and most times the injured party is back to normal within a few hours. But this- it’s not meant to be like this. I know we’ll find a way to fix it eventually, but what if-’

Alex broke off, unable to say more with the risk of being overheard so acute, but Lena didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what came next. Alex was scared that Kara would hurt herself again before they found a cure to return her invulnerability, and that next time this happened she wouldn’t be so lucky. Lena was scared of that too.

‘I know.’

They stood together in silent solidarity for a few moments, then Alex nudged her again.

‘I was going to return the compliment and point out in great detail all the ways you look awful, but you actually don’t. You look… weirdly unruffled. Like, unnaturally so. And as much as that makes me want to rough you up a little to even things out, I’m guessing this is just that thing you do, and at some point it’s going to break and become a full on freak out?’

Lena could have denied it, insisted that she really was totally fine: another day, another near death experience for herself or a loved one; but at some point in their re-aquaintenceship and without her noticing it happening, things had shifted so far with Alex that bluffing would have been pointless. She knew her too well for that now. Besides, after their afternoon of breaking things together there was an element of camaraderie to their shared turmoil, and Lena found she didn’t even want to lie about it. So she shrugged.

‘That’s the plan, yes. It’s on my to do list for when I leave here, actually.’

‘On your- y’know, if anyone but you or Brainy said that I’d assume they were speaking figuratively, but-’

Lena pulled out her phone and navigated quickly into her personal calendar, smirking as she held it out to show Alex the 15 minute block labelled ‘Feel Things’ she had entered for this evening. It wasn’t serious, obviously. She might be a Luthor, but even she couldn’t plan her emotional breakdowns quite so precisely. It was more like a promise to herself, and a reminder that while she needed to keep a handle on herself right now, maybe putting everything into a box and never looking at it again wasn’t how she wanted to deal with things anymore, and at some point that meant she was going to have to feel it (later though. Much later. And alone). It had also been a whim that she had only indulged in order to kill a few extra seconds while she waited for the elevator to carry her and her newly acquired jello back to this level, and one she probably would have deleted in embarrassment given another hour or so. Now though, as Alex choked on her laughter at the sight of it, she was glad she hadn’t.

‘You actually did. Jeez Luthor, the inside of your brain must be really-’

‘Lena, hey!’

Up until now they had been conversing barely above a whisper, but at the bright peel of Alex’s laughter Kara had looked up from her game and at last realised Lena was back in the room. Her bruised face lit up with a lob-sided, swollen lipped grin that could equally have been for Lena or the vibrantly green dessert she was holding. It was painfully endearing, and like a moth to a flame Lena took an automatic step towards it, then paused and turned back to Alex.

‘Hey… if you want to get drunk about this later, I have a $2000 dollar bottle of scotch with our names on it. Just say the word.’

Alex blinked at her – she was usually the one to reach out to make plans, while Lena was the one being coaxed into them, it had never happened this way round before. She smiled, a quieter version of Kara’s surround sound beam, and a little of her weariness seemed to fall away.

‘Yeah, okay... I’ll text you.’

‘Do.’

Then Lena gave in to Kara’s magnetic pull and made her way swiftly to the bedside, jello cup held out in front of her like an offering.

‘I can’t believe you actually found this for me! I realised after you were gone that the pain meds were maybe making me a bit loopy and there was no way you could actually get jello without trekking a mile out to the nearest grocery store. But you did! You are officially the best.’

Kara balanced the pot on the edge of her cast, freeing her good hand long enough to give Lena’s a grateful squeeze, their fingers curling together so naturally that the idea of letting go seemed impossible. But then Brainy held out the spoon that he had apparently (inexplicably, since no one had told him Lena was off looking for jello) thought to bring with him into the room, and the moment passed.

It would have been ridiculous to feel a little pang of loss as Kara withdrew her warm fingers from hers, so Lena didn’t. She looked round at everyone else and used her empty hand to wave at them all instead, as if that was why it had been held out in the first place.

‘Hi.’

J’onn and Brainy responded with smiles, nods and murmured greetings, and Kelly pulled Lena into a quick hug. She was just relaxing into it when Nia followed up her friendly ‘hey’ with ‘aren’t you meant to be out of town until tomorrow though? Did you cancel your big press thing?’ and Lena stiffened.

As one everyone in the room turned to look at her, Kelly’s arm going slack around her tense shoulders and Kara freezing with a heaped spoonful of jello quivering just outside her open mouth. The question was clearly well intentioned, but Lena still wished Nia hadn’t asked it. It made it hard to keep ignoring the twisting in her insides that was determinedly trying to remind her just what a big deal this might have been for L-Corp.

‘I didn’t cancel. They didn’t need me for the product demo anyway, and I had someone step in to give my speech. It’s all taken care of... But if anyone asks, I’m currently recovering from an emergency appendectomy.’

She forced a chuckle, trying to break the tension and make it a joke, but it fell flat, and Kara dropped her over-laden spoon back into its pot with a soft, dismayed splat.

‘You told them you had appendicitis? I’m so sorry you had to do that for me when I’m not even badly hurt, and it was all my own stupid fault. I feel awful.’

‘Oh no, Kara, this one was all me.’ Alex finally abandoned her post by the wall to reassure her sister, stepping in to stand beside Brainy and casting guilty glances between Kara (bruised and now slightly jello spattered but very much alive and more or less well) and Lena (still dressed in her presentation outfit and probably wearing a fixed grimace of discomfort from all the attention, though apparently not enough of one to divert it).

‘Lena, I’m the one that asked you to come back without thinking about what else you were in the middle of. I’m sorry for putting you in a difficult position when we didn’t even know how bad it was yet.’

Lena frowned. ‘If you hadn’t told me I would be plotting where to bury your murdered body right now, as I’m sure you would me if our positions had been reversed. It was my choice to drop everything and I’m glad I did, so please, don’t worry about it.’

She meant what she said, but it didn’t diminish the unease that still writhed in her belly at the reminder of just how abruptly she had abandoned the press conference. She wondered how Jess had gotten on without her, and whether Raj and Amanda had managed the product demo as smoothly as they had in previous events. Had there been questions they couldn’t answer? Had anyone pressed the issue of Lena’s sudden non-attendance? She hadn’t talked to many people ahead of the event, but enough of the staff had seen her looking not at all like someone about to collapse with a ruptured appendix that it was possible her story was going to be interrogated.

Still, there was nothing she could do about any of that right now. She needed to focus on Kara for the moment, and when she got home later she would start on damage control. She’d call Jess to check she was alright after being thrown to the metaphorical wolves. She’d make sure her bonus was processed right away, and maybe order a muffin basket or something as an extra thank you. Then she would go through the conference footage and draft something for the press to smooth over anything that needed smoothing. Whatever had happened, Lena could deal with it. And even if the whole thing had been the worst PR disaster imaginable, she was still glad she had made the decision she had. If Kara had been more badly hurt, if she had died without her while Lena was off talking to the press, she would never have been able to forgive herself.

She did her best to focus back in on the conversation the others were having, which had thankfully moved on from Lena to the best flavour of jello (black cherry, or else anything with a bit of zing to balance out the sweetness. Strawberry was also acceptable, but Brainy’s assertion that it was berry blue was preposterous, and frankly objectionable), and what exactly it was about it that made it so satisfying to eat (the jiggles, obviously).

After twenty minutes or so Alex said that Kara was looking tired, and as her doctor she thought they’d better all leave her to rest now, so one by one the others hugged her (carefully), told her how glad they were that she was alright, then filed out the room. Lena reluctantly made to do the same, but Kara held on when she moved to straighten from the hug.

‘Stay with me a little while longer? I’m not too tired for you.’

She shuffled over on her mattress as best she could, patting the space beside her invitingly.

‘I should probably at least sit on the chair, I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘You won’t hurt me. Besides, being in pain makes me kind of needy, and I want to be held… if you’d be okay with that?’

Lena felt her lower lip tremble slightly with the request. There was nothing in the world she wanted right now as much as she wanted to hold Kara, but it wasn’t going to make keeping her feelings in under control any easier…

But maybe it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t care anymore.

Screw her carefully scheduled slot to feel things only once she was safely alone. Kara had nearly died today, and they both needed this too much to deny it.

Lena kicked off her stilettos, taking a beat to savour the sudden reduction of pain as her feet dropped back into their natural position and her toes wriggled gratefully against the cold linoleum. The small concession to comfort felt so good that after a moment’s consideration she followed it up by shrugging out of her blazer, untucking her shirt and loosening her tight chignon before finally easing herself into the space Kara had made for her, moving slowly to avoid jostling any injured parts. As soon as Lena’s arm was in place around her shoulders Kara relaxed into the embrace, a long, quiet breath escaping her lips in a sigh that could have been pain or relief or simple exhaustion.

‘Thank you. I know you probably have other places to be right now, but I’m really grateful for you staying here with me like this.’

Lena pulled her in a little closer, the physical contact making her feel suddenly, absurdly protective, as if she could somehow retroactively keep Kara from getting hurt just by holding her close enough.

‘Forget other places to be, I don’t want to let you out of my sight. Look what happened last time.’

‘Well, I don’t think I’m very likely to get in much trouble from here.’

‘I wouldn’t put it past you after what happened today. What if you decide hospital bed stair surfing would be a good idea next?’

It was meant to be a joke, but the tone came out all wrong and it didn’t feel like one to Lena. At this point she wasn’t sure she could put anything past this version of Kara who seemed to have all of Supergirl’s recklessness and none of her invincibility, and the thought made her simultaneously sick with worry and hot with anger that Kara could treat her life so casually. It was one thing when she was saving the world, but this risk had been so pointless.

Kara however either missed or willfully ignored her tone, taking what she’d said at face value and grinning the mischievous grin that would usually make Lena melt, playing along as if their situation was perfectly normal.

‘Now there’s an idea. I bet if you took a run up and pushed I could get up enough speed to make it all the way down without rolling.’

‘KARA!’

Lena’s voice cracked, and Kara’s smile faded as she finally noticed the tears glimmering on her lashes.

‘Hey… Lena, I’m just kidding.’

She knew that, of course. Downplaying and making light of traumatic events was Kara’s default coping mechanism, and she hadn’t even really been the one to start it this time… But still, it tore at the walls Lena was maintaining around her feelings and grated at her frayed nerves. The anger she had been trying so hard to tell herself wasn’t there stirred again, hot and desperate insider her, and she snapped:

‘Don’t. Not about this.’

She met Kara’s eyes as the expression in them finally began to lose its playful twinkle, but it wasn’t enough. She needed her to feel it, and Lena poured every ounce of sincerity she dared to express into her next words.

‘Kara... I’m furious with you for jumping off that roof. You understand that, right? I’m too relieved and you’re too hurt for me to yell at you about it, but I also can’t listen to you joke like it’s nothing. If you died it would break me. And if you died because of something so stupid-’

‘I won’t.’

Kara’s interruption forestalled the rest of Lena’s admonishment, but she wasn’t quite ready to leave it at that. She needed to hear her say it properly.

‘You won’t what?’

‘I won’t joke anymore. You’re right, it’s not fair on you. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if it was the other way round, if it was you who had-’

Kara broke off with what probably would have been a shudder if not for her sore muscles, and nudged in a little closer against Lena’s side.

‘I promise I won’t do anything like this again. I really am sorry for what happened, I swear I never meant to cause all this trouble.’

‘So... why did you do it? I know you’ve been enjoying climbing and paragliding and the rest, but you must have known how reckless this was. What got into you Kara?’

‘I’ve been asking myself that ever since I woke up here, and the answer is… I honestly don’t know. Looking back I can see that it was a stupid thing to do, but it didn’t feel reckless to me at the time. I can’t explain it in a way that makes any sense, but when I was doing it, it just felt like I couldn’t fall. Like gravity wasn’t even an issue for me, and the air would catch me and carry me where I needed to go. Up on that rooftop I felt so close to- I don’t know, something. It was like if I just went on a little bit longer, jumped a little bit further, everything would click, and I wouldn’t need to keep chasing that feeling anymore… Urgh, that sounds so crazy. Maybe I am crazy.’

Lena softened at once.

‘Oh darling, of course you’re not.’

Actually, the explanation made far too much sense, and she couldn’t even really blame Kara for it (well alright, she could. Kara was still an adult supposedly capable of rational decision making who had jumped off a damned roof. But maybe it wasn’t just her fault). After all, Lena was the one that had poked a hole in her mental barrier without understanding how it worked and let just enough of Supergirl leak out to make Kara feel like she could fly without any of the actual accompanying powers to back it up. She was also the one that had made Kara promise to wait until they’d researched proper abseiling techniques, then failed to follow through and help her find a safe outlet when it was obviously something she badly needed. And she was the one who still, after months working on the problem, hadn’t found a way to bring back Kara’s memories and physical invulnerability to make sure something like this couldn’t happen to her in the first place.

Kara must be so confused...

‘It was probably just the adrenaline high, you got carried away. I’m sure you’re not the first person to experience that, and you won’t be the last. And as long as that was your last, I won’t keep going on about it anymore. I’m just glad you’re going to be alright.’

‘Me too. And it’s definitely the last, I’ve learned my lesson.’

The remains of Lena’s anger at her best friend drained away, and she let her head fall back into the pillows behind them in relief.

‘That’s okay then.’

#supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #my fic #kara x lena #supergirl fanfiction #multi chapter fic #Forgotten Not Forgiven

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artificial-transmutations · 2 years ago

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Two sides of the same coin - Early Morning

Kyle loved the early mornings. Not the eight o'clock early mornings or even the six o'clock mornings. No, the best time in the morning was much earlier, the time when the first gray of the morning turned into the sunrise over the waves of the ocean to the east. Although the sunrise over the waves was a spectacle and so beautiful that Kyle had made multiple paintings of it already, it was not the main reason he liked the early hours of the day best.

No, the reason for that was that there were no people around. Kyle didn't hate anyone per se, he just didn't like the company of people in general. Sadly, meeting other humans couldn't be avoided entirely, so these precious few hours of loneliness in the morning helped him to gather the strength he needed for a day full of unavoidable social interaction.

The beach was usually empty at this time, and the first visitors only came here later in the morning, so for a few hours, his usual spot on a rock was left in wonderful solitude.

Not so today. When he came here today, he was surprised to see another person already there, on his rock, a dark and alien silhouette against the gray morning.

Kyle frowned and turned around. His day was pretty much ruined already.

However, as he turned to leave, he heard the other man's voice:

"Hey, don't go."

The voice had a boyish charm to it, but it was clearly a man's voice. The words were surprisingly soft and gentle and didn't carry any force with them.

Despite that, or perhaps even because of it, Kyle stopped and turned around again.

The other man had stood up and walked a few steps in his direction but kept a respectful distance.

"Sorry for invading.", he smiled. "I'm Xavier, and I have noticed you around. They said I would find you out here in the early mornings."

Xavier's voice was gentle and calm, but surprisingly firm, the kind of voice that only people possess who are so very sure about their place in the world. It seemed to come from a position of utter certainty. Kyle found it quite attractive but was confused.

"Why would you be looking for me", he asked.

Xavier shrugged nonchalantly and smiled a warm smile. "Because you're extremely cute and I want to ask you out on a coffee. Oh, here, I even found this while waiting. Even though it probably fell out of your pocket, we could use it to pay for the coffee."

Kyle automatically took the shiny coin Xavier handed him. His head was swimming from the openness of the other guy. He rarely discussed his homosexuality and when he did, he felt so clumsy talking to other people that he quickly stopped. Not so Xavier. He didn't seem like the typical extrovert, but at least he was very sure of himself. Kyle didn't yet know if he liked that. Perhaps he would be even full of himself?

As he didn't answer, Xavier asked: "So, what do you say?"

"Oh, sorry." Kyle replied. Sometimes he didn't notice how long he was thinking internally. He was automatically searching for a good excuse why he couldn't go and played around with the coin, before pocketing it.

"I don't like coffee" was what he finally settled on. And normally, he would have ended the conversation with that, but for some reason he added: "But we can talk now, if you like."

"Sure thing." Xavier nodded enthusiastically. "We should sit down somewhere."

They sat side by side on the rock, facing the ocean and the sunrise. Both men were silent for a moment. Kyle was horrified. Why did he say that? Was he supposed to flirt now? He didn't even know how this worked. How did one make small talk with someone they wanted to date?

Xavier broke the silence. "So, tell me something about yourself."

"Well," Kyle began, trying to think of an interesting topic. "I'm Kyle." God, that sounded awkward. He needed to add some question to it. "And who are you?"

Xavier looked at him and chuckled. It wasn't a mean laugh, but a friendly one, but still Kyle felt deeply ashamed.

"You're not very good at this, are you?" Xavier asked in a friendly voice. "That's okay, it kind of makes you look even more cute."

"Let's try something else, okay? Don't tell me about yourself, at all. Instead, tell me about yourself as if you were the complete opposite of yourself, an entirely different person."

That was a funny idea, but for some reason, it really made things easier for Kyle.

"Okay. Well, in that case I... like to surf."

"Great, so you're a surfer. The whole package? Are you carefree and perhaps even a bit dim?" Xavier entertained the thought.

"Yes, you could say that! I'm really easy going and don't think about things too much at all!" Kyle felt his mood brighten considerably. "I'm also really loud usually and very outgoing", Kyle added, almost shouting to make sure he was being heard.

"Cool, I can see that going for you!" Xavier said. The situation felt a bit weird, like it began a certain way but then took a sharp and unexpected turn. He couldn't really tell why he felt that way, though.

"And it's also my language. To be honest, I'm really not that bright. So, I make my sentence short. And avoid long words. My favorite word is 'dude', though. What is your favorite word, dude?" Kyle had his usual happy grin on his face.

"I never thought about it, actually." Xavier responded. "But is it true that surfing gives you an amazing body?"

"You bet, dude! Check out those guns! And these abs!" Kyle pulled off his hoodie and flexed for the other man, not forgetting to show off the cobblestone road of abs of his. The sun had risen somewhat by now, so his fit body was kissed in the golden light of the morning.

"And I bet all the sun makes you really tan, huh?" Xavier found himself being drawn in by the surfer more and more. His body looked just so perfect.

"Yeah. Goes really well with my blond hair. It's all natural, dude!"

Kyle saw that Xavier was checking him out quite obviously now and leaned back with his arms behind his head to give him a good view, blowing some of his golden strands out of his face.

"It's all natural down there as well, dude!" he added as Xavier's gaze stopped at his more-impressive-by-the-minute bulge that tented his board shorts now.

"Sorry about that. I get hard very often, dude!" Kyle laughed, not embarrassed in the slightest.

Xavier didn't answer, but his eyes stuck to the clear dickprint in the front of Kyles board shorts and the perfect round ass on the other side, clearly visible against the wet fabric.

"Can you teach me how to surf?" Xavier asked, wishing nothing more than to have a body like that.

"Sure dude! Come on, let's get our toes wet!" With that, Kyle ran towards the ocean line, dragging the surprised Xavier behind him.

"Okay, first step: You need to get naked! Completely nude, dude!"

That seemed strange to Xavier, but he quickly complied. His dick was standing stiff to attention and yearned for actions.

As he had finished undressing, Kyle smiled. "Okay, now kiss me dude!"

"O..okay?" Xavier said but leaned up and gave Kyle a peck on the lips. As he wanted to draw away though, Kyle just pulled him into a deep, French kiss.

When they finished kissing, Xavier was rock hard. No, really, his whole skin felt hard and durable, and he found his body quickly getting impossibly thin. Before long, Xavier was nothing more than the colorful surfboard of Kyle, who looked at the object still with lust in his eyes and pants. Time to hit the waves! He didn't care he still had a raging erection - he was confident enough to flaunt it. And who knows, he might even get laid by some dude who watched him enjoy the early morning sun!

If you liked the idea of dudes finding together with objects in an unlikely pairing, you might also like the other stories of the same kind.

#two sides of the same coin #inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #male transformation #dumbing down

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lexosaurus · 13 days ago

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stained teeth leave the aftertaste of rot (part 2)

Part two of my @ecto-implosion fic for @antleredweirdo's art [right here]!

Characters: Danny Fenton Tags/warnings: minor character death, gore, ghost hunger Summary: Danny was just sick. It was probably some sort of ghost flu that was making his body heavy, his stomach hollow, and his eyes burn with fatigue. There was no way he was—no, he wasn't going to think about that. He wasn't. In the darkest corner of the room, something shifted.

[read on ao3]

[part 1] [part 3]

****

His parents were in the lab.

That wasn't anything unusual. Nor was it odd that they'd been down there all day and probably had only barely remembered to stop to breathe every so often.

That was, in fact, very normal for their household. Once his parents got sucked into a project, there was simply no telling how long it'd take for them to remember that they were, somehow, still human and not machine.

"I'm ordering pizza," Jazz said once it had finally become clear that their parents not only had no plans to make dinner, but had likely forgotten that dinner was a meal that existed at all. "Can you go down and see what they want?"

Danny scowled. "Why does it always have to be me?"

"Because," Jazz said with a tone and expression that stated her entire argument.

Which was a terrible argument, really. She was only pulling the older sibling card because she knew that whoever went downstairs would have to listen to Dad blather on about ghosts for the next hour. And sure, Jazz was the one who actually studied and did homework and therefore, hypothetically, would make good use out of her non-Dad-blathering hour, but shouldn't Danny have a say too? Since Danny was the struggling academic of the two of them, it would be just as sound reasoning to argue that he needed the extra hour for studying. Hypothetically.

But, Jazz's look was very persuasive.

"Yeah. yeah." Danny waved her off and stood from his chair to stretch. "I'll text you what he says."

"Thanks. Good luck down there."

"Yup."

Danny opened the lab door and made his way downstairs, taking his sweet time on each step. He dreaded this conversation on a good day, but today, that dread had increased tenfold. He was exhausted, and still dealing with whatever ghostly illness was draining him from the inside out.

His stomach lurched with each passing step, but he didn't feel nauseous. But then, he didn't know what other way to describe it. Anticipation? For what?

He finally landed on the last step where only a patched metal door stood before him. It was dark, cold, and somehow seemed like the only thing standing between him and...and...

Danny shook his head. He was just tired, and he always got a little nervous before listening to his parents enthusiastically rant about the new way they'd thought of how best to torture and dismember ghosts that week.

Internally groaning at his own annoying thoughts, he pushed open the door and ushered in whatever lay inside.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The acidic, tangy smell of ectoplasm. Except, it didn't smell like normal ectoplasm. This was stronger, somehow. It smelled sweeter.

His parents must have been experimenting on ectoplasm samples again.

He held his breath and stepped over the threshold.

The atmosphere inside was par for the course. His mother hovered over some large, computer-like scanner, and his father stood before a mess of metal scraps and wires.

"Hey." Danny shuffled in, trying his best not to breathe. But when neither parent reacted, he drew in a breath—intending on shouting their names—and choked.

The portal was sparkling. It was so green and bright. Was that smell coming from it?

Were his parents messing with the portal?

Fear struck his heart, and on instinct, he nearly transformed into Phantom. His parents didn't know the portal like he did, they didn't understand how dangerous it was, how unforgiving it was, how it could kill them.

But a stronger instinct, this one of self-preservation, kept him grounded in his human form. His parents didn't know he was Phantom. He couldn’t transform in front of them.

That didn't stop the coughs from worming up his throat and breaking through the silent room.

His father jerked up, looking like a robot with his metal welding mask over his face. "Danno!"

"Hi, Dad."

His mother whipped around. She, too, was in full gear with her hood up and her goggles covering her eyes like a bug.

"Hi, Mom," he added.

"Hi, Honey!" Maddie pushed her goggles onto her forehead and stared at him curiously. "What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be at school?"

"It's six-thirty."

Maddie blinked and glanced at the clock Danny had forced his dad to install on the wall last year. "Oh wow, it is!"

"Is it really?" Jack asked.

"Look!"

"Wow, look at that!"

It was as if neither of them had ever heard of time moving forward before. Seriously, Danny didn't know how they managed before they had kids to remind them to do basic things like sleep and eat.

"No wonder I'm hungry!" Jack moved the mask to the top of his head, revealing a sweaty, grinning face underneath. "I just figured it was the old brain using so much energy working on my latest thingamajig! Which, look at it!"

Danny was scared to move from his step. On one hand, it was impossible to tell whether or not the object of Jack's latest fascination was an unintentional stick of dynamite or whether it would genuinely work as intended, which was also a different cause for concern. On the other hand, if he moved, he might accidentally take a breath.

And he wasn't sure why, but the air was intoxicating.

It must have been something his mother was doing.

Danny refusing to move from his spot did little to temper Jack's enthusiasm. In fact, the man hardly seemed to notice with the way he waved his new invention with the vigor of someone who had just won gold in the Olympics. "This one, this one!” he hollered. “This is it, I tell you! It's a real good one, this one is!"

Uh oh. This could even be a two hour lecture tonight.

"Wait! Before you tell me, what pizza toppings do you want?"

Both parents froze, their brows drawing in as if they'd never heard of pizza before.

"Pizza?" Jack cocked his head. "But why?"

"It's six-thirty and we're hungry!"

Jack blinked. "Oh! I'd forgotten how late it was! Well, I'll have an Italian sausage pizza. You know me—godda get that brain food!"

Danny had to resist slapping his open palm on his forehead.

"Whatever you guys get is fine. I'll eat anything," Maddie said.

Danny shot the text over to Jazz before either of them could change their mind.

Which, of course, neither of them did. Because they'd already gone back to thinking about whatever experiment or invention they were just working on before he'd invaded the lab.

A shiver slipped down his spine at the reminder that he was still in the lab.

In the corner of the room, a shadow wavered.

"Look at this!" Jack waved the device again.

Danny knew the script. "Oh gee, Dad, what does it do?"

"I'm so glad you asked, Danno! This one's a really cool little machine, let me tell you. This baby emits a sound that hurts only ghosts!"

"Does it?" Danny went through his mental categories for his parents' weapons. Depending on the severity of the noise from mildly acknowledgeable to annoying to downright painful, he may be able to force the machine to somehow malfunction if need be...

"Oh yeah! Ghosts have a wider range of hearing than us humans, and their ears are a lot more sensitive! And after thinking about things like dog whistles, I figured, hey, why not invent something like that for ghosts too? Except, I'm not trying to call ghosts over to me. Although, maybe this will work like that? You know, I actually wouldn't mind that so much because then I could hit them with the Fenton Ghost Net Cannon!"

Danny was having a difficult time hearing his parents over the gem-like siren that was the portal. "The what?"

"The Fenton Ghost Net Cannon!" Jack said, proudly slapping the side of what looked like an old-fashioned cannon made from sheets of scrap metal and 3D-printed parts. "Since I can only throw my net so far, this little guy will shoot it out for me! The only problem is, the net gets a little tangled inside of it, so when it shoots out, it doesn't usually end up capturing any ghosts!"

And thank goodness for that because although Danny was almost always one step ahead of his parents, there had been times where Jack had regrettably, much to Danny's limitless embarrassment, surprised him with an attack.

"That's good," Danny said, ducking down. Was the portal whispering to him?

"No, not good! Not catching the ghosts means that they all end up getting away and can cause trouble for others!"

"Oh." Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. His skin felt cold, damp.

Maybe his parents were playing around with a chemical that was affecting his ghost half?

Yeah. That must have been it.

Did Blood Blossoms have a cousin? Maybe something that instead of killing ghosts, just confused all their cells to the point of complete and utter disarray?

"Well, I'm happy you have that weapon now," Danny forced out.

"So am I! And so is your mother!"

Maddie turned around from her hunched position over the lab bench to offer a grin and a thumbs-up. "That's right, sweetie!"

"Hey, Mom?" Danny started, eyes darting up to the ceiling. The portal was so distracting. Why did it smell like that? "Um...are—are you experimenting with anything that would...well...what—what exactly are you studying?"

"Oh, I'm just looking at some scans of some ectoplasm we got from one of Phantom's fights earlier this week."

The shock and subsequent whiplash he got from craning his neck to face his mother was more than enough to break through the allure of the portal. "That's Phantom's ectoplasm?"

"The ectosignature seems to point in that direction."

Danny's mouth dried.

Shit.

"What are you—what do you mean?"

"Well, it's sort of a strange sample. That's what's got me so stumped."

Danny wasn't sure it was possible for his stomach to sink so low, but apparently, his body loved to prove him wrong.

"I guess the equivalent in human terms would be looking at hair samples. When forensic scientists look at hair samples under a microscope, depending on how old the hair sample is, the medulla—that's the tube that runs through the cortex of each hair strand—may be broken down or have parts missing. Fresh hair samples tend to have all their medulla, but as time goes on, it begins to become fragmented. Now, ghosts don't have medullas, but they do have ectosignatures. Over time, these ectosignatures can break down. In very old samples, it can be impossible to tell which ghosts the ectoplasm belongs to, if any. And in this sample here, the ectosignature is extremely weak."

"So, why is that weird? It means you got an old sample."

Maddie shook her head. "But I didn't get an old sample. That's the thing! This sample is one I collected from a fresh fight on Monday. For a ghost as strong as Phantom, it should take weeks before his ectosignature begins to fade like this. But it's only been a few days."

That was odd, certainly, and it was something he probably should bring to Frostbite. But for some reason, he couldn't. Some piece of his brain, one that was full of fear and shame, outright refused to let him say a word.

But why? Why the shame?

Suddenly, the portal was back in the center of Danny's attention.

It sparkled and swirled like a ballroom dance, emitting fresh waves of citrus and pine. It glowed with an inviting aura, beckoning him to come closer, come closer, come closer.

His mouth watered. It was so green. Like taking a bite out of a key lime pie fresh from chilling in the fridge. So airy and perfectly balanced between the crystallized sweetness of sugar and the tangy pockets of lime.

No, stop. Why was he thinking about that now?

He tuned back in to Maddie who had continued talking as if he had been listening the entire time.

"...which is why I wanted to take a closer look. It just didn't match his profile or his power level. You can see that throughout these past few samples, his power level has not dropped. But with each sample, the strength of his ectosignature has dropped. I hypothesize that it's Obsession-related. Maybe Phantom hasn't been able to fulfill his Obsession as much as before? No matter what, it's very intriguing."

"Super intriguing!" Danny cut his mother off.

He needed to get out of here. Both to save him from the portal, and also to save him from being subjected to a three-hour lecture about his Phantom half from his oblivious parents.

"Listen, Jazz is waiting for me to give her the pizza order." He'd already texted her the order. When one of them ventured into the basement to inquire his parents about food, there was no saying how long it would take. "But...uh...we can talk another time? Maybe when you've figured out what this whole ectosignature business is about? I really don't want to distract you from your work."

"What a considerate son!" Jack's booming voice came to the forefront. "Look at you, looking after your mother! Why, that's the true sign of a good partner! You and that batty girl are going to get along just fine."

Danny nearly choked on his next breath. "Sam's not my girlfriend!"

"That's what they all say at first! You kids will learn soon enough." He bent down and elbowed Danny. "I certainly did with your mother!"

Okay, barf. Now, Danny really needed to get out of here.

"Aw, his cheeks are getting all rosy!" Maddie bent down and pinched one of his cheeks.

Danny waved her hand away and backed for the door. "Okay, going to order the pizza now! Bye bye!"

He could not slam the door on them quickly enough.

Especially since he had a feeling that if he waited even a second longer to let either one of them get another word in, he would have been trapped here for the next half hour listening to his father give him "the talk" that somehow managed to swing back into killing and dissecting ghosts.

Which Danny knew because that was exactly what happened the last time his dad had tried to give him "the talk."

He bounded up the metal steps and phased through the top door. Jazz was sitting on the couch casually scrolling through her phone without a care in the world, and for a second, Danny had to fight the urge not to strangle her.

"That was quicker than I thought you'd be," Jazz said, not looking up from her screen.

Danny stormed past her, leaping up the stairs two at a time. "You owe me!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll do it next time. I know, I know."

You fucking better, Danny thought, and might have muttered under his breath—he couldn't be sure—as he reached the hallway at the top of the stairs and rounded on his door.

Normally, with his parents safely tucked away in the basement, he would have just phased through the door. But now, he hesitated.

He slammed open the door, shutting it with equal force behind him for emphasis. Just in case Jazz didn't get it from his tone, of course. No other reason.

Certainly, his stomach hadn't just fluttered in discomfort at the concept of using his ghost powers to walk through his door, something he did nearly every day.

Whatever. He was just out of sorts because of whatever experiments his mom had been doing to his ectoplasm. Surely, by studying his ectoplasm and ectosignature, that had done something to mess with him, right? He hadn't seen any chemicals on the desk, but that didn't mean she hadn't done something to his ectosignature before he'd gotten there.

Yeah. That must have been it. Surely, whatever she'd been doing was causing all these problems now.

Surely.

In the corner, the shadow jittered. Almost as if it were laughing.

****

Danny couldn't sleep that night.

His limbs were heavy, and sleep gnawed at the edges of his eyelids. But something in his torso—his chest—was missing too much to be able to rest.

Missing what?

He didn't know. Or, maybe, he could know if he looked into it, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do that. Or, no, rather he was entirely certain that he shouldn't look for the answer. That finding out what was missing would destroy him.

So he didn't.

In the darkest corner of the room, something shifted.

A shadow. Likely the curtains, again. He wasn't even sure why it'd caught his eye. It was nothing. His ghost powers didn't have anything to do with shadows, after all.

It shifted again. Then, it morphed, ends pulling into themselves to form an arm, then a hand. The fingers wiggled, reaching out to the air as if searching for something. But, finding nothing to grasp at, they dissipated.

Danny stared wide-eyed at the wall, too frozen to do so much as sit up.

No, he'd watched too many horror movies. This was just his imagination. Just a figment of his imagination.

The shadow stirred. It contorted again, flowing as if it were liquid until it formed another hand, an arm, a shoulder connected to a torso with another arm, a waist, two legs, and a head.

It was humanoid, but still strangely amorphous. The shadows swirled within it like clouds of thick, metallic gas. It stood, or hovered, Danny wasn't sure which, and though it didn't have any facial features, Danny knew with absolute certainty that it was studying every inch of his skin.

"What do you want?" Danny's sharp whisper echoed in the dim light.

The shadow figure didn't move. It didn't speak. It continued standing in the corner of the room absorbing any light that happened to come its way.

His ghost sense hadn't gone off, so this wasn't a ghost. Then, what was it?

"Who are you? Where did you come from?"

It made no motion that it'd even heard him.

Danny's gaze flickered to the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. He was being silly. It was clear that he was just tired, ill, and was at the point of stress where he was hallucinating. There was nothing there. It was just a figment of his imagination.

He looked back over to it, and the shadow hadn't moved. It stared at him with nonexistent eyes.

Pushing his comforter off his body, he climbed out of his bed. The air was cold, and not pleasantly either. That...wasn't right. Cold air had always felt good. He had an ice core, after all. But now, as his feet sank into the refuge of the plush carpet underfoot and the night air nipped at his skin, he found that a shiver traveled up his spine.

He trudged forward. "Seriously, what is your deal?"

And then, the shadow vanished. Not instantly, but it faded out, convincing his eyes to think there hadn't been a shadow-like figure after all. That it'd always just been a figment of his imagination.

How silly of him.

See? He just needed sleep.

He turned, fighting off the annoying shame that threatened to tinge his cheeks because it wasn't like there was anyone to judge him for freaking out over nothing anyway, and crawled back into the safety that was his bed.

His eyes felt as if cinderblocks were weighing them down, and he relaxed into his mattress. If he shut them, he could almost ignore the hollow void in his torso, or the way his core felt a little too warm and cold simultaneously. He turned over, ready to divulge in the greatest pleasure that life could gift to him, but when his eyes flicked open one last time, there was the shadow standing back in its corner of the room.

****

The shadow was there when he woke up the next day standing in its little corner, staring at him impassively.

Only this time, he didn’t approach it. Because somehow he knew that it wasn’t going away.

When he brushed his teeth, it settled against the tiled wall beside the shower.

When he ate breakfast, it hung out beside the fridge.

When he walked to school, it followed him in the shadows between the buildings.

No matter what class he was in, or how crowded the hallways were in passing time, it always hovered just within his eyeline.

The next day, he woke up, and there it was in the corner of his room.

And the next day too.

It never stepped away from its corner. When Danny went from one room to the next, it didn’t walk behind him necessarily—Danny wasn’t even sure its legs were functional—it merely just appeared seemingly at will.

As the days continued, it seemed to grow blacker, more opaque, less wispy as if the barest hint of light would annihilate it.

Danny tried to ignore it. But the more he turned away, the more it seemed determined to follow him.

****

It had surprised him when he checked his phone to see it was Friday.

He hadn't remembered going through the week. Last he remembered, it had been Tuesday.

But apparently, the week had continued forth. And now it was Friday.

He stared at the paper on his desk, his vision stirring the words together. It was a math test. According to the header, it was on something called slope-intercept. He vaguely remembered that. Maybe Sam had mentioned it? Maybe not.

He wondered if this was supposed to be a difficult test, or if everyone else found it easy. He wondered if he was the only one who didn't understand what the first question was asking.

"You're in the final fifteen minutes," Mr. Falluca called from his desk. He adjusted his round glasses with his stubby fingers and continued, "If you're not on the calculator section yet, you'll want to wrap up the non-calc portion in the next few minutes."

Danny blinked. Hadn't the test just started?

He looked around. Everyone else was tapping away at the calculators on their desks. Meanwhile, he had only written a few things on the first page of the paper, and, reading his work over again, it was blatantly obvious that he had no idea what he was doing.

This was a wash, he realized. He was going to fail.

No, he could pull this together. If he focused, if he really tried, he could do it.

Graph the function and list the vertex, domain, and range below.

What was a vertex?

His head was swimming, his stomach was a black pit, and he wanted to fall asleep on his desk. Ancients, he was so tired. He was tired and drained and he couldn't stop thinking about that ectoplasm on Johnny's back, how it shimmered like crystalized sugar on top of a sweet dessert, so inviting, so gorgeous and perfect and green. How it smelled like citrus and lime and how much he just wanted to—

A hand tapped his shoulder, ripping him from his daydreams. He started, nearly jumping out of his skin as he whirled up to see the concerned eyes of Mr. Falluca and the hushed giggles from everyone else in the room.

His head whipped to the taunting faces around him, and to his horror, he couldn't see a single exam paper on anyone else's desk.

Only his.

"Danny?" Mr. Falluca asked. He picked the paper off Danny's desk. "Stay with me after class, please."

Danny wasn't sure if he'd responded. The only thing he was completely sure of was that his face was sheet white.

His hands shook, clammy and cold. He wiped his palms on his jeans, but it did nothing to bury his thoughts, his feelings, his fears.

Breathing low, he dipped his head, bringing his hands up to cup his forehead and shield his eyes from his classmates. His gut pitted in horror, a new crevice forming with each passing second. He thought he might throw up, or pass out, or scream, or run.

What the hell was that? Why had he thought those things about Johnny?

What was wrong with him?

"Danny," Mr. Falluca's nasal voice said again, this time from his desk.

Danny peered up to see his classmates missing.

When had the bell rung?

"Can you come over to my desk?"

Danny went to stand, and then paused. How could he be sure that his muscles would fire correctly and his legs would push his body from his chair? What if he accidentally flew? What if he turned intangible and sank through the ground? He had mastered these powers months ago, but he was sick, wasn't he? How could he trust his body to respond accordingly if he...if...

He'd never had these fears before. But as his core pulsed a wave of warning around his body, somehow, he knew them to be true. He knew that he simply couldn't trust himself.

His ghost half was too strong. It was taking over, he realized in stunned silence.

"Please," Mr. Falluca said.

"Sorry," Danny managed out. He could only hope that his response hadn't been too delayed.

Mr. Falluca, however, didn't seem to be in a rush. Danny could feel the eyes on him as he tentatively stood from his chair, repeating, stay human, stay human, in his brain as he did, and tiptoed across the room to sit on the chair before Falluca's desk.

Mr. Falluca peered at him with a concerned, pinched expression. "Danny? Are you feeling okay?"

"Um..." Danny's eyes darted in every direction except the eyes of the man before him. If he said he was fine, then Mr. Falluca would think he was just being lazy on the test. But if he said he wasn't feeling fine, then would he pry? Would they send him to the doctor’s? Would Danny be forced to reveal himself to his parents? "I'm..."

Mr. Falluca sighed and scratched at his balding head. "You seem exhausted."

"I...am...I guess."

Mr. Falluca held up his test. "I can't grade this, you know."

"Oh." Danny had tried to look surprised by this information, but apparently, that was the wrong way to respond.

"Do you even—Danny, what happened? What's going on with you today?"

"I don't know?" It didn’t seem like he could skate his way through this.

"I don't know how you can be in class all week and not get a single problem right. I would try to give partial credit, but I honestly, don't think I can do even that. I just...what's going on with you?" He put the mostly blank paper back down on the desk. "You've seemed off all week. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine."

That response had been a reflex from Danny. Nothing was fine, except he was trying to force it to be fine. Because if he admitted that nothing was fine, then that would mean that the nightmare would actually be real, and he couldn't have that. He didn't even want to think about it. Because it wasn't true.

So, he was fine.

The shadow wavered. He looked away.

"This goes against the department policies, but I just can't accept this test. And frankly, I don't think you really looked at it, anyway." He frowned at Danny, the wrinkles on his forehead accentuating under the harsh light. "I'm giving you the opportunity to retake this after school."

"Oh." Danny had never been cut slack like this before. Frankly, he hadn't even been convinced that such niceties were in line with the laws of physics. "Um, yeah. Thanks. That'd actually be great."

"Perfect, I'll see you then. But because I don't want a repeat of class today, I want you to go to the guidance office first."

Danny's stomach plummeted. Of course, nothing could ever come free.

"No, I'm okay."

"I'm not asking."

Danny glanced to the ceiling, tapping his foot impatiently. He could always say yes and then not go, but then his teacher would probably check, and he'd know that Danny had bailed, and then he wouldn't let Danny retake the test.

Quiz?

What even was this again?

"I'll write you a pass and I'll call your next class. Who's your next teacher?"

If possible, his stomach sank lower. "Lancer."

Shit. Lancer and Falluca were friends. Worse, Lancer was Lancer. There was no way Danny could get away with skipping now.

"I'm fine. Really. Listen, I'm sorry about the...the test. I'm sorry. I just got distracted. It won't happen again."

"Danny." Mr. Falluca cut a pass from his pad. "Here. Take this and go."

Shit, shit, shit.

"Now, please. And then you can return after school for the retake."

"Okay. Thanks." Danny turned for the door. Each step was a struggle to stay visible, to stay tangible, to not sink through the floor and fly straight for the nearest exoplanet.

He ducked into the halls, his shoulders creeping up to his chin. He kept his face down and focused on maintaining one step after the other. That was all.

It was fine.

The shadow peered at him from an empty room.

His stomach was so hollow.

He wondered if there were any ghosts around.

Even small ones. Like a school of little blob ghosts. Floating in the air like a tiny bundle of grapes.

So green. And round. And vibrant. Full of ectopla—

Danny's head snapped up. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he thinking about blob ghosts right now? This was serious! This was the guidance office! The last thing he needed was some shrink telling his parents that he had issues that needed a closer look at! If the guidance counselor suspected a single thing, he could kiss his quiet life undercover in his home goodbye.

It was time to focus.

He knocked.

"Come in!" said a muffled voice behind the door.

He opened it to reveal Ms. Lynch. After the Spectra incident, the school had been a bit more thorough in its search for a qualified school counselor. Then they found Ms. Lynch. And yes, Danny had made sure that she was entirely ghost-free.

"Danny? Hello, take a seat. What brings you in today?"

Right. Time to lie. Fortunately, Danny had ample practice at this.

"I accidentally fell asleep during my math test."

Her gaze turned concerned, but fortunately, she didn't seem suspicious. Yet. "Oh no, why is that? Just feeling tired today?"

"Yeah, I guess." He sat down in her padded chair. One of the few padded chairs for students in the building. Beside him, the shadow appeared in his dark corner, ready to soak in Danny’s misery. "Didn't sleep well last night. He told me to talk to you about it. So yeah, here I am."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that you didn't sleep well last night. I can see that this is very frustrating. Were you having trouble falling asleep, or did you just keep waking up?"

Danny ran through the list of excuses in his head. "Yeah, just kept waking up, I guess. Had some stuff on my mind."

"Why don't you tell me about it?" she offered. "Sometimes, talking about it can be a great way of helping to sort through the stressors."

Despite not having a mouth, the shadow grinned at him.

He ignored it. It didn't exist. It was all in his head.

"No. I don't know. It's just school stuff. Grades, homework. You know, normal high school stuff." Because he was a normal high schooler who worried about normal issues. Normal human issues.

He was fine.

The shadow took a step away from the corner.

Dizziness rolled over him in a wave. His stomach hollowed, and fire ants crawled over his skin, biting little paths into his arms and causing his limbs to tremble. The world swayed in his vision as if he were riding a boat through a storm.

"Whoa, Danny. Are you alright?"

He grunted, head slowly twisting up to see Ms. Lynch now standing over him. She reached out to steady him, and her hand felt like lead on his shoulder.

She was too warm. His body didn't want warm. It wanted—

"Sorry." He ducked his head, but that was the wrong thing to do.

"Danny!" Ms. Lynch caught him before he tipped out of his chair. His body really didn't want to stay upright all of the sudden. "Here, let's get you to the nurse. Have you eaten anything today?"

He'd tried, but he couldn't. None of the food was edible.

They managed to make it to the nurse, though it helped that her office was only two doors down from Guidance. Mrs. Brenton, a middle-aged woman with streaks of gray highlighting her hair, fawned over him, setting him down in a spare bed and giving him a cup of water and a packet of saltines.

She'd asked him a bunch of questions, he was sure. But it'd been hard to pay attention.

The shadow's nonexistent eyes had been boring into him the whole time.

And it refused to go back to the corner of the room where it belonged.

****

< part 1 / part 3 >

#danny phantom #phicc #ghost hunger #fanfiction #my writing #ectoimplosion2024

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hastalavistabyebye · 3 months ago

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Last line challenge

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).

So I may have a smidge of backlog on this, just a tad bit.... *clear throat* I've been tagged and/or uno-reverse by @nooneherebutusghosts, @loverboy-havocboy x2, @whiskygoldwings, @ninjababypowpow, @aerjnn, @five-oh-thirst x2, @sithfox, @adhd-coyote, @cookiemonsterv3, @mamuzzy-creates-stuff x2, @workingchemistry and @mereelskirata ! I love you guys <3

Technically not my last line because that was for a drabble and I want to give you more than just one line.

Things start to settle down in the Senate district. Or do they ? “After the last few months, the protests against the Senate seems to have finally calmed down, especially after the call for internal peace sent by the infamous Marshal Commander Cody of the 7th Sky. Many planets still promised that actions are being taken, but the Dome’s Place is finally empty for the first days in many long months. Chancellor Palpatine had now announced an hour ago that the annual Spring Equinox Gala will still occur, like every year. But, he also publicly and warmly invited every Clone Commander present on Coruscant during the event to join him for the Gala. This always awaited celebration will stand strongly for unity and peace this year.” How to help the clones ? Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard held a press meeting this morning after the enthusiastic demand of the citizens to know how to help their devoted soldiers. Find the report of that meeting and some additional solutions in this article.

[...]

Padme Ami-who ? Core News. One of the most hated men of the Republic steals the show at the Spring Equinox Gala, learns about it in this article. A dress to die in. Mode and Fashion “The Spring Equinox Gala is galaxy-wide known as The fashion event of the year. The most beautiful and influential people of our planets all gathered for an incredible night. And incredible, this year's edition sure was. But repack the crystals and hide the Nabooians, because every breath has been stolen the second black heels, as sharp as that crown of thorns, hit the red carpet. Marshal Commander Fox was more deadly than ever in this dress, the jewels on his skin like the blood of his people. More regal than a prince, he [subscribe to Mode and Fashion to read more]

To be perfectly exact my last line is the second article, but I couldn't resist adding the two others even if I hadn't write the ones leading to them yet x'D it's still very much a first draft with a few things like the journal names missing here and there, and I have still no idea how to format it, but it's lots of fun !

Of course I uno-reverse you all and also tagging everyone of you who read this. Yes yes, you're tagged. Show me what's you're cooking. I just doesn't want the list to get completely out of control that's why I'm not tagging manually anybody else x'D

#tag game #hi tumblr void

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aurorafables · 2 months ago

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From the Grey, Chapter 10.

Hey :) I'm back with this story, and you may not have to wait so long for the next part.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Nicholas Ruffilo

Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Past character death, Suicidal thoughts

Tags: M/M, M/F, Slow burn, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, Family drama, Band fic, Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, P in v sex

Word Count: 4.1k

Cross-posted: AO3

10.

The endless roads, sleeping to the monotonous sound of the bus engine, cities that change every day, crazy fans, flashing lights, staying overnight, brushing your teeth in the morning at a gas station, unhealthy food, playing video games until sunrise, the total loss of time, the chaos in your internal clock, Jolly's silly jokes, Folio and his hyperactivity, Noah's toothy smile, his voice after waking up, the smell of his hair when he rests his head on my shoulder exhausted...

It was the enthusiastic roar of the audience that pulled me back to the present. I was standing on stage, Noah was talking to the crowd, and for a moment I completely lost touch with the outside world as I watched him. It can't become my routine when I'm in front of everyone. I quickly turned around with the guitar around my neck and bent down to get my water to get some time. I'm not a spectator now, I'm part of the band and I'm working, I muttered to myself as I took a few sips. I can call myself really lucky, because this and also the tattoo work are amazing, so I can't screw it up. The boys count on me. I brushed back my locks of hair from my face and looked up at Folio, who was smiling at me from behind the drums. I returned the gesture and turned back to face the audience. The show went on.

We played Too Close To Touch for the fourth time that week in Keaton's memory, but none of the times were as moving as that night. Noah's voice was full of pain as he sang a duet with his friend, who had already moved among the angels, and the few hundred people who witnessed him lay his whole heart out in front of them on that stage, making himself infinitely vulnerable. I watched worriedly, even though I knew he wouldn't break, he was much stronger than that. During the guitar solo, he looked back at me over his shoulder. Dark shadows fell on his face, his gaze became veiled and he looked at me almost pleadingly as his lips trembled. He shook his head barely perceptibly. Then he broke his gaze and walked over to the drums to take a sip. No explanation was needed, I just looked into his expressive eyes to guess what he meant. I have been in that place created by despair, anger and fear. When you are afraid of losing someone very important to you.

"Noah, the sun is slowly shining on you," I entered the room after I finished showering. I just pulled my jeans up, then knelt on the bed we'd shared for months and pulled out the blackout. "We have to go to the salon, otherwise Michelle will be really mad."

The boy lying on the bed was unaffected by my words. He pulled the blanket over his head, completely disappeared under it, and turned onto his side.

"Noah, doe, what's wrong?" I asked with furrowed brows, because it wasn't typical of him. Of the two of us, I was the one who hated mornings more, not him.

"I don't think I'm going in today," he whispered in the pile of blankets. “Will you tell Michelle I'm sick?”

I carefully pulled the blanket off his head. Noah blinked tiredly at me, his auburn hair spread across the white pillow and he was much paler than usual. Her pale freckles almost glowed on her skin and her lips were completely dry.

“What's wrong?” I asked again, now full of concern. “Are you not feeling well?”

“I think I caught something, maybe when…” but he couldn't finish because he started coughing. I remembered that he was already coughing and wheezing the night before when we came up the stairs. When the coughing stopped a little, I ran my hand over his forehead.

“I don't think you have a fever. But there's antipyretics in the drawer if needed.”

"I just need to rest a little," he said quietly, because it seemed that even talking was too tiring for him.

I knelt next to the bed so that our heads were at the same level.

“You must promise to call if you feel worse.”

Noah smiled languidly, flashing his sweet, snow-white bunny teeth.

“Go to work, because Michelle is going to be mad,” he quoted my words. “And don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm not going anywhere,” he added, and his eyes were already starting to close.

We got off the stage before the last three songs and the first thing I did was hug him. I caught him unexpectedly, he froze for a moment in my arms. The microphone was wedged uncomfortably between our chests, my guitar lodged in my hipbone, we were both sweaty, but none of that mattered. We both needed this. We understood each other without words, and we assured the other without words that we were there for each other, no matter what happened.

I remembered how scared I was when he called me. I just tattooed the calf of a nice woman, and left everything there without reason. I threw the tattoo machine on the small table, tore the gloves off my hands, and waved an apology to the guest, who fortunately was understanding because he heard our conversation. Noah was crying, gasping, and afraid he was going to die. He complained of constant sharp pain in his right side from his shoulder to his abdomen. And I called the ambulance because I knew it was a big problem. I heard it in his voice. I didn't wait for the bus at the two stops, instead I ran home as if my life depended on it.

I arrived at our apartment together with the ambulances, I let them in. My hands were shaking as I took the key out of my pants pocket and panted frantically. Noah was still in bed, but in much worse shape than he had been when I left for work a few hours ago. He gasped for breath as if he was having a panic attack, but something told him it could be something more serious. The medical staff flocked into the small room and got to work. They asked when it all started, where his pain was, then they took his blood pressure and felt his abdomen. The doctor touched him with extreme caution, quietly trying to calm him down. I can't put into words how grateful I was that she was as careful with him as I would have been. She told Noah that it would be all right, and I clung to that catchphrase. An IV was inserted into his vein and one of the nurses said something about his blood oxygen level, but I didn't really catch it. They put an oxygen mask on him and decided they needed to take him to the hospital. I stood in the door of the room with my feet completely rooted, I didn't understand what the hell was going on. The doctor must have taken pity because she came to me while the others were putting Noah on the stretcher.

"Your friend is in a bad condition, but his life is not in danger either. Further tests are required, which we can do at the hospital. Where are his parents? According to his papers, he is only sixteen years old."

"I... he... he doesn't have parents," I stammered.

“Who is his guardian?” asked the young woman. It was half on my tongue that I was, but I quickly shook my head to get my thoughts in place.

“His grandparents.”

“Can you notify them?”

My eyes drifted to Noah's phone lying on the floor, then I nodded.

“I can call his grandmother.”

“That would make our job easier,” she nodded with an encouraging smile. “Can you gather some things for him while we take him in for examinations? Clothes, pyjamas, toiletries…”

“Of course.”

She nodded again, then looked at Noah, whose cough was muffled by the oxygen mask.

“Do you know if your friend has an eating disorder?”

“No, he… he was always so thin. He's under a lot of stress... he's always upset about something, but no... ,” I mumbled back and forth.

“Air may have entered the pleural cavity, because of this his lungs can't do their job properly, that's probably why he's sick” she told me, but I just watched Noah start to be pushed towards the door.

“Can I say goodbye to him?” I asked the doctor, who nodded. I walked over to the side of the stretcher and took Noah's hand, the one that wasn't pierced. His skin was covered in cold sweat, the mask fogged up in front of his nose and mouth with every exhalation.

“Everything will be okay, doe, I'll see you soon.”

Noah squeezed my hand and we let go and he was led out of the apartment. After a few moments, I was standing alone in the room, in total silence, and wrapped my arms around myself. I didn't want to cry. Then I realized that there was no one there to keep me strong.

Noah ended up spending three days in the hospital, and his grandmother—whom I met for the first time then—helped arrange for me to be in with him most of the day. Maybe we had different views, maybe she wasn't a model grandmother, but at least she loved Noah, even though she didn't know how to express her feelings.

The crowd demanded an encore and Noah started squirming in my arms. I let go of him and watched as he stepped back with a smile and put his earpiece back on. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Folio and Jolly watching us, then as if I caught them, they quickly looked away. Jolly began to tune his guitar and Folio examined the toe of his shoe.

"Let's play the remaining three songs," Noah said a little louder for the others to hear as Matt began the intro to The Death Of Peace Of Mind. He turned on his heel and strode onto the stage.

I climbed off the bus in downtown Chicago, in the parking lot of our hotel, with numb legs. I took a deep breath of the smog-filled air, then stretched my arms toward the sky. It was late afternoon, the sun was just setting, and people were on their way home from work. We usually started work at this time, but that day we had a day off.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Noah asked as he stepped next to me.

“I don't think so,” I shook my head. “I'd rather just rest and such.”

“We must take advantage of the fact that we can sleep in a comfortable bed," he said with a smile.

“I think that's exactly what I'm going to do.”

“Guys, I still need to talk to the reception to clarify the reservation.” Matt approached us with a tablet in his hand. “But twenty minutes, and you can occupy the rooms.”

“I'm going for a walk and I'll make a call,” I picked up my mobile phone. “Shall I return your hoodie?” I asked Noah. He gave it to me on the way, because after lunch I was sleepy and a little cold, and my own clothes were packed in my big suitcase.

“Will be okay later,” he answered and ran after Matt towards the entrance of the hotel.

I took a cigarette out of my pocket, lit it, and started walking towards the crowd flowing down the street. Maya had already sent several messages saying she wanted to talk, and something told me it would be best if the others didn't overhear this call. My plan was to sit in a cafe, in some quiet corner, but I ended up buying a hotdog from a street vendor and headed for the nearby park that I saw on Google Maps. I had to walk all the way to the small artificial lake in the middle to be able to make a phone call. Even the noise of the cars filtered in there. Maya answered the phone quickly, she probably didn't get home from work that long.

“Hello, Nick.”

“Hi, Maya. You wrote that you wanted to talk…”

“Oh... that was last night.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. I know she wanted to talk yesterday and I managed to ignore her.

“I was too tired after the concert,” I answered, which actually reflected reality.

“It's okay, it's not that important, it's just... I was thinking a little. About us.”

I leaned forward, my elbow resting on my knee. Maybe she will end up breaking up with me over the phone? It was strange that she didn't bring up the case, because I didn't call her back the day before. There was a short pause in the effect, which was so nerve-wracking that my feet began to squirm nervously on the gravel floor.

“Will you tell me?”

“I was thinking that maybe a baby would be good for our relationship.”

I asked her to repeat it again because I couldn't hear her well. She said the same thing a second time while I looked out of my head with wide eyes. I expected something completely different. That she will fight with me. That she's holding us accountable for the fact that we haven't spoken in days. That she brings up, our relationship no longer makes sense. But this topic surprised me so much that I suddenly didn't even know how to react.

“This is very bad timing,”I answered her in an emotionless voice.

“And will there be such a thing as good timing?” she asked back. “Nick, you are thirty years old. Would having a child really be so weird?”

No, that wasn't the weird one. Rather, it never occurred to me that I wanted a child from her, but I was too polite to say that.

“It's not about how old I am. The band is soaring, and now it's taking up all my energy,” I answered her and started kicking the stones under my feet.

“Of course, because Noah needs to be babysat all the time.”

“It has nothing to do with him,” I answered, and it really took a lot of effort not to raise my voice. I was tired of her always bringing Noah up when something didn't go the way she wanted it to.

“So what? What are we waiting for?” she asked phlegmatically, which made me lose my composure.

I let out a laugh in agony that echoed through the trees like the laughter of a madman.

“Do you really wanna know what I want?”

“And you care what I want?” she asked back.

“You want to chain yourself to me with a child,” I said my thoughts because I couldn't hold it in anymore. “You feel that we are slowly moving away from each other, and you think that a baby can solve everything. Sorry, this is not working for me… our relationship has been screwed for months now.

I finally said the obvious, and it was as if a huge stone fell from my heart. I could breathe again.

“Do you mean that you want to break up?” Maya asked softly.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes under my glasses.

“I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be so harsh.”

“You know what, Nick? Don't be sorry! You better fuck off! And I fucking hope I'm not pregnant with your baby!” she shouted, then she finished the call.

After that I sat and stared at the dark screen for several minutes. When I was already cold because the sun had completely set, I left the park and started walking the streets, thinking, did I screw up? In the beginning, everything was as beautiful as in a fairy tale. I felt like I was in love, but after a few months the feeling disappeared, like it wasn't really there. What happened in the meantime? I put my hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt because it was getting colder. It was completely dark and there were far fewer people around me. Was Maya right all along and is it all because of Noah? Because of my sick emotions that are starting to dominate me more and more? If it wasn't for Noah… no, I couldn't get into that thought, because that was enough to make my chest tighten painfully. I couldn't imagine my life without Noah. I was sure that if he wasn't there, I would feel like I was missing something…someone.

I found myself with the pavement running out from under my boots as I made it to the shores of Lake Michigan. I didn't know how long I'd been walking, so I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was already past eight, which meant I was over an hour away from the park. I sighed tiredly when I saw that I had received a bunch of messages. I looked around the illuminated beach. A larger group of young couples and a group of high school students were nearby. I sat down on the sandy beach and opened the messages.

Jolly asked if I would like to sit with them somewhere for a drink, then sent the name of the place, which was finally chosen with Folio. And Matt asked if I was still alive, if he should call the police.

“Everything is fine, I just came for a walk,” I texted him back before he actually sent half the FBI on me.

When I read it back, I furrowed my brows. I hated to lie, but after all... it's not a big deal, no one kidnapped me. I just broke up with my girlfriend after ten months. This sort of thing happens, with some we decided after two years, some snapped without any signs, and I survived that too.

"I fucking hope I'm not pregnant with your baby!" Maya's words echoed in my head. No, I don't need to deal with that right now. I tried to focus on the sound of the waves and the wind, and when I did, I imagined I was on the terrace of the house by the lake and Noah was with me.

The next hour almost flew by, but then I started babbling while sitting still. It was 10:30 and I was thinking about walking or taking a taxi back to the hotel. When I saw that if I went purposefully, I would have to walk for just over half an hour, so I chose that. It took me another half hour to completely calm down.

When I got to the door of the hotel, Matt almost pushed me, scooting out.

“Nick, finally! I wanted to talk to you," he began, leaving no room for words. “There is a problem with the rooms. And there was a question, would it be a big deal if you had to sleep with Noah? There is also extra bedding and a pull-out sofa. If you want to relax completely alone, it can be done, I'll tell the receptionist right away…”

“No problem, Matt.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Leave it, I wanted to talk to Noah anyway.”

Matt sighed in apparent relief.

“Okay. It's great. Noah's room is… 326,” he looked down at the tablet in his hand. “I'm sorry, Steven just arrived, and only then did it become clear that there were fewer rooms.”

“It's really not a problem,”I reassured him with a tired smile as I walked past him through the photocell door. “Sleep well!”

“You too!“ he shouted to me and started towards the parked bus.

I entered the elevator and pressed the button for the 3rd floor. When I reached the top, I easily found door 326. I have slept in so many different hotels, motels that finding my way around was no problem. I knocked on the red oak door and it only occurred to me that I didn't know how I was going to start when Noah opened the door. Should I cut right through the middle? Maybe it would be best…

But when the door opened, I couldn't even speak. A girl with jet black hair was standing in front of me in a skimpy baby blue top and black lace panties that were so see-through for even a fleeting glance that I had to catch my eye. She had a glass of champagne in one hand, while the other was leaning against the door next to her head. My first thought was to walk away amid profuse apologies and call Matt because he must have given the wrong room number, but then she spoke.

“Hello, Nicholas.” Her voice was like concentrated sugar, only much more nauseating as she blinked at me with her big blue eyes.

“Do we know each other?” I was completely shocked.

“I know you, but you probably don't know me.”

In the next moment, Noah also appeared next to her, in a string of underwear, with wet hair, and slowly everything made sense. She snuggled up to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist.

I smiled in embarrassment and shook my head. The evening became more and more interesting, and I gave up trying to follow the events.

“I’m so sorry..”

“Nick, are you okay?” Noah asked. I heard in his speech that he also drank a lot of that particular champagne.

“Of course, I just... wanted to return your hoodie.” another lie, but I didn't even count anymore. I locked eyes with my best friend for a while. I was sure he knew I wasn't telling the truth.

“What if he joins too?” the girl turned to Noah, interrupting the moment.

At first I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. It slowly dawned on me that she might be a fan of ours, that's why she knows me, and I remembered how upset Noah was when I innocently flirted with a girl who was at our concert, long before Maya.

I felt burning stares on me and turned to Noah in disbelief. They both looked at me like merchandise that could be bought.

"Unfortunately, Nick has a girlfriend," Noah finally said, grinning at her. “Although you’re right, he's the only person on Earth I'd be willing to share with.”

I felt nauseous for the second time that night, first during Maya's call, and then there, standing in the hallway of a hotel, staring alternately at Noah and his one-night stand, who was barely wearing any clothes and who he'd probably picked up at the bar in less than an hour. I wouldn't be surprised if they had been through several rounds. I wanted to end this conversation. I've never felt so uncomfortable around Noah. I pulled the hoodie over my head and pressed it into its owner's hand.

“Have a nice evening!” I forced a smile and immediately turned around. I heard Noah whisper my name, but I pretended not to notice.

I went down to reception and couldn't be more grateful when they got me a room in ten minutes. Matt wouldn't have been happy if he knew I booked it in my own name, but it didn't matter. Noah brought a girl here, who could talk about where we were on social media anytime between sex.

I went down to the bus to get my things, then unpacked in the room and fell on the bed. As I stared at the ceiling in the light of the bedside lamp, I realized that this was not going to be good. If I want to quiet my thoughts, I have to go somewhere much louder. I sat up and took out my phone, then opened the messages. The place where the others boarded was barely ten minutes away from the hotel. So much walking can't hurt. I unzipped my suitcase and looked for my denim jacket, then I checked that I had my wallet, ID and mobile, cigarette with lighter, complete with the room card. Don't go anywhere, ten minutes and I'll be there - I wrote to the shared chat, and I was already out the door, trying to gather my hair into a messy bun on top of my head.

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