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pucksandpower · 7 months

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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 · 4 months

Text

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 · 1 month

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 · 4 months

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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mrskreideprinz · 7 months

Text

| 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 · 20 days

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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 · 1 year

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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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hastalavistabyebye · 8 days

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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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crazylittlejester · 3 months

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I’m not kidding when I say I reread your introduction post over ten times in order to make sure I can send an ask about just about anything and I wasn’t doing anything I wasn’t supposed to, but I think I’m in the clear… hopefully.

Anyways, I wanted to ask how you think the members of the Chain would react to spiders, if that’s okay. I ask this because for the past two days I’ve been trying to clean my room, and I’ve come close to having full on panic attacks because I keep finding spiders. It got me thinking if any of them would be scared of them or not, and I’m currently too tired to try to create my own headcanons for this. Maybe one day I will, but how do you think they’d react?

On an entirely unrelated note, one of my fics involved a very brief moment where Blue and Shadow have a sort of fist fight/wrestle, and at one point Shadow threatens to bite Blue, but people in the comments keep thinking Blue’s doing the biting, and I don’t have the heart (or the courage) to correct them because it’s honestly something Blue would do. Don’t know how that’s relative to the ask because it’s not, but I have no one to share that with, and I’m sincerely hoping you don’t mind.

you’re totally and completely good, i really do mean people can send asks about anything, doesn’t have to be LU related at all, i just ask that people be kind and try to write clearly so i can understand, so you’re good don’t even worry about it :)

oUgh, i have two friends who love the little guys but they freak me out

Time i imagine would be scared of them, the big ones could probably have him shutting down, but the little ones he’ll just freeze and stare at them with wide eyes until they disappear and are no longer his problem or until someone else deals with it. he likes bugs, but not spiders

Warriors definitely has woken up to a spider on his face and screamed about it. My headcanon for him is that he grew up in the country side on a small piece of farm land in a little town, so he’s definitely seen more than his fair share of spiders, but I believe in my heart they freak him out

Twi has no issues with em, he can tell if they’re venomous and won’t mess with those, but the harmless ones? He’s found one chilling on a leaf before and coaxed it into his hand and then excitedly gone off to show Time, who forced himself to say “Oh that’s nice, kid” while screaming and crying internally, which Twilight was completely oblivious to because he was so excited

If they’re bigger than a finger nail, Sky’s terrified of em, but he can just ignore the little ones. Kinda the whole “if I can’t see it it doesn’t exist” policy

Hyrule ate one once and Twilight cried

Legend’s fine with them. No one knows if he’s telling the truth or not, but when Twilight brought one over he didn’t really react so if he IS deathly afraid of them he’s quite good at hiding it. He’s not enthusiastic about them, but he won’t run away screaming

Wild’s obsessed, he think they’re funky guys. He’s like Twilight where if he finds a cool one he WILL stop the group to look at it

Four is fine with them as long as he’s not the size of the Minish. He nearly had a heart attack the first time he encountered one when he was that little because it was like half his size

Wind SAYS he’s fine with them, but if one dropped on him he’d cry about it. He thinks they’re very cool though, and with Wild and Twilight being able to tell which ones are dangerous, he slowly becomes less afraid

OUGH THAT’S HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE, I do agree I think Blue WOULD bite someone 😭, but if it’s something that’s bothering you don’t be afraid to go in and change the wording so it’s a little more clear who’s doing the biting

Thanks for the ask!! I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day/night

#jes talks #jes ask #linked universe #lu headcanons

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distantlaughter · 11 months

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Rising Rosberg primed to emerge from old friend's slipstream

Originally written 22 March 2008 by Alan Henry for The Guardian (x)

German's podium finish last week showed he is ready to resume a decade-long rivalry.

It was the most touching moment of the Australian grand prix weekend. Lewis Hamilton was wiping away the perspiration of victory behind the podium when he spotted his old friend Nico Rosberg, similarly flushed after an impressive run to third place, his best finish in formula one.

Suddenly Hamilton leaped forward and gave Rosberg a big hug and the two of them jumped up and down in frantic delight. For a brief moment they were no longer young professionals in their early 20s, racing in big-time formula one, but the young karting drivers they had been a decade earlier.

"It's great to see Nico up here with me for the first time since our karting days," said Hamilton enthusiastically after showering his old rival with champagne. But Hamilton's memory was clearly playing tricks. "I didn't like to say it at the time," said Rosberg, "but he had forgotten the 2004 formula three Bahrain international in which Lewis and I finished first and second. I then went on to compete in GP2 the following season while he did another year in formula three before moving up into GP2 in 2006."

Rosberg has a matchless pedigree. The son of the 1982 world champion Keke Rosberg, only the second driver to take the title at the wheel of a Williams, Nico was born four days after his father won the 1985 US grand prix in Detroit in a Williams-Honda. Nico recalled that he always had a really good relationship with his father, even though Keke could be very critical "although in a constructive way…"

"But my father helped me a lot and didn't intervene when I took the decision to pass up the opportunity to come to study at Imperial College in London for a degree in aerodynamic engineering," he said. "I think he could see that by then I'd made my mind up to pursue my racing career and I realised that I couldn't do both because I'd lose too much momentum if I went to university. So my father didn't say anything and just sat back and let me make my decision for myself. I think in the end he was just pleased that I'd come to a conclusion by myself."

The younger Rosberg started competing in 1996 at the age of 11, winning the Cote d'Azur mini-kart championship. He continued racing karts to the end of 2001 then switched to cars, winning the ADAC formula BMW championship with nine race wins. Many formula one insiders now regard Rosberg as among the most promising emergent stars of what some already call "the Lewis generation".

"Nico [and] probably Sebastian Vettel are the two drivers most likely to get in Hamilton's way to prevent him winning seven straight world championships," said the pundit Martin Brundle, not altogether seriously, in the Sepang paddock yesterday. Yet the point was well made.

After Fernando Alonso left McLaren last season, Rosberg was at the top of their wanted list as a new team-mate for Hamilton. But Frank Williams was not interested, rejecting a substantial offer from McLaren to buy out Rosberg's contract and rewarding the young German driver with an extension to his existing contract to the end of 2010.

"Finishing on the rostrum for the first time is an important milestone in every driver's career," said Rosberg, reflecting on his performance in Melbourne. "It's right up there with your first front-row start, scoring your first championship points and, of course, your first win, which I have still to achieve."

The Williams management consider Rosberg to be a chip off the old block, with many of the qualities that made his father so popular. The team have not won a grand prix since Juan Pablo Montoya triumphed in Brazil in 2004, and Jacques Villeneuve won their last world championship in 1997. "It's probably a bit much to expect Nico to have anything more than an outside chance of winning a race this year," said a team insider, "but Frank has great faith in him."

Rosberg agreed: "We are under no illusions as to where we are in the overall pecking order. To be honest, I don't see this as a launch pad from which we can make a bid for race wins. Not yet, anyway. We can't get over-confident just because we got a podium. The fact is we are still the fourth best team behind McLaren, Ferrari and BMW, so the best place we can finish realistically is seventh.

"That's our reality, as bad as it sounds. So we need to be careful and not be disappointed if we're suddenly running in seventh. And we also need to be careful because the teams behind us are very close - Renault, Toyota, Red Bull. It is not an easy situation."

#nico rosberg #nicology

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karmatheprowlthra · 7 months

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Apologies if today's post sounds like insane rambling. 3.5 hours of sleep and a long day of the army ruining my mood have not been fantastic for my mental health x3 Today I think I'm gonna talk about Karma's main snak Space! He was mentioned in the last post under the name Vasya, so if you're confused, don't you worry! Since it's a long post, I'm gonna put it under a cut x3

This is Vasya Kayashi! His nickname is Space because he has ADHD and has a lot of trouble focusing on any specific subject for too long. You could say he spaces out *wheeze* Okay sorry, bad joke. Space stands at 5'9" or 1.75 meters tall. He weighs about 170lbs, mostly muscle and a lil bit of chub (he cuddly boi :3). He is a sand cat, particularly known as a Runecian sand cat because that's where he is from. Like Karma, he (and everyone else in my worldbuilding) has a different anatomy than you might see most of the time, but lacks most of the abilities that the bigger felines like Karma have. Space, like Karma, is a soldier by trade! Being much smaller, he is far less aggressive than his large companion, but also far more methodic with his work. While Karma uses his strength to outright destroy his enemies, Space prefers to engage them from medium distance, or in ambush attacks.

Space's personality is a blend between introvert and extrovert. If he gets to know you well, he will happily talk your ear off about both his favorite subjects and yours. He loves to hear about the stories and things that people create, and enthusiastically encourages you to make the best that you can! However, if he doesn't know you well, he'll be very hesitant to engage in a conversation. He hates talking to authority figures aside from Karma, it gives him butterflies in his tummy.

Space is fond of video games, indoor rock climbing, writing and playfully fighting with others. He also enjoys betting, particularly with small prizes like who pays for dinner one night while everyone is on leave! He strongly dislikes tomatoes, excessive amounts of melted cheese, useless military regulation and running. Space was raised in the suburbs of his desert city and lived a relatively sheltered life. He decided at 17 years old that the military life was something he wanted to pursue and enlisted, joining the new specialized corps that were being introduced at the time. By sheer luck, he was assigned under Karma's leadership! The big feline quickly took Space under his wing, adopting him as a tiny and protecting him fiercely (I have some cute art I will share soon :3). At 19 years old, Space has served dutifully for upwards of two years. He has had many close calls that flare Karma's protective instincts, most notable of which was an encounter with an IED that left a deep scar over Space's right eye. The little sand cat was traumatized by the event, but ultimately recovered thanks to Karma's comforting and some quick medical treatment. Space is Karma's go-to snak for multiple reasons, among them being:

Space is a very tasty boi

Space needs comforting and seeks out Karma almost nightly, resulting in him having more belly time than every other Karma snak combined. The warmth and soft cozy flesh feel like a very comfortable weighted blanket to him, and he cozies right up without a care in the world :3

Space likes to squirm and massage Karma's soft tum from the inside, knowing how Karma enjoys internal belly rubs

Space is by far the least likely to complain if Karma eats him unwarranted. Even annoyance will quickly dissolve into purrs and nuzzles once he relaxes into the warm soft fleshy muscle!

That's about it for a simple description! Feel free to ask questions if you wish :3

(Important note! None of my characters respond well to teasing, and any preyish characters tend to be prey only to my other characters unless I know whoever wishes to do the nomming thoroughly! Please get to know me first if you wish to nom/be nommed by anyone uwu Also please refrain from making comments regarding these characters too vorish, I don't know exactly how to respond-)

#e-a/t #extreme cuddling #nsx vore #eaten alive trope #nonsexual vore #aiyk worldbuilding #Karma's Characters #OC: Space

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saiyanlpkwife2013 · 1 year

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Midnight Siren

Chapter Seven: Hitoshi

Romantic relationship: Hitoshi Shinso x y/n (female/AFAB)

Chapter warnings: Cursing, angry Shinso

MINORS: DO NOT INTERACT BELOW THE "KEEP READING" BREAK.

You both ran in a comfortable silence, keeping pace with each other. Shinso was impressed.

For someone who hates running, she sure is keeping up really well.

At the halfway mark in the first lap, you slip in front of him running just a touch faster. He watches you from behind, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand but finding it difficult as his eyes trailed down your toned body.

Hard to beat this view though.

His mind jolted back to last night as he remembers stumbling upon your private bathing time. His ears become hot again and he picks up the pace to try to get ahead, pushing the intrusive thoughts out of his mind.

He barely notices the hiss that escapes your lips.

“You alright?” He casually asks over his shoulder, not daring to slow down as he knows the second he ends up behind you again, his pants will get tighter.

I wonder if she’s pushing herself too hard. She may have actually gotten hurt somehow during that whole mess and is just now realizing it.

***

“No, I’m fine!” He hears you say a little too enthusiastically. He’s unable to see the deep blush that has taken over your face. Thankfully, even if he had seen, you feel confident that you could just pass it off as a side effect of the exercise.

I don’t think I’m supposed to know that...Shit, I’m guessing that’s who I heard last night.

Your eyes trail up to a spot on his neck, right where his hairline ends. You decide to assess his emotions at this point in time, unable to shake the fact that he has seen you naked.

Taking inventory of the space around him, you feel the amount of guilt he has about stumbling upon you last night. You are able to sense that it was an accident, one that he regrets...At least, mostly.

It’s difficult to be mad though as he clearly feels shame. That would explain a few things. You think back to this morning, how he avoided eye contact and the internal dialogue he held with himself. Maybe one day, I can confront him about it.

Or I could make things even harder for him.

You speed up, cutting him off as you both round the arena, coming up on completing your first lap. Shinso notices this and takes it as a challenge.

~*~

By this point, you are coming up on the end of your second and final lap around the arena, keeping pace with Shinso and barely breaking a sweat. Approaching your finish line, Shinso expects you to rub it in his face that you’ve finished your punishment. Much to his surprise, however, you start a third lap.

“What are you doing? You’re done.” Confusion takes over his face as he continues his way around the arena for a third time.

“Well, I don’t want you improving faster than me! Or have a reason to think you’ve worked harder than me here either. Besides, I figure I owe you for, you know, not letting that rock squish me to death. I don’t think I would look very good as a splat.” You laugh lightly, picking up the pace.

I wouldn’t have let that happen. I COULDN’T have let that happen. Not to someone like you...

You suck in your breath and hold it, wishing more than anything you could let him have his private thoughts...But wanting to hear more.

“Yeah, well, you ought to be more careful. You won’t be much of a sparring partner if you’re busy bleeding out.”

You feign irritation, scoffing at his choice of words. “Oh, yes! Silly me. I should’ve KNOWN the fucking ground had a vendetta against me today. I’ll make sure to mark my calendar for next time so I won’t have to put you in such a bind. I sometimes can’t believe how selfish I am!” You dramatically roll your head while keeping your same speed. Shinso darkly chuckles.

“So long as you know.”

You two continue to race while off in the distance you see Pixie Bob running down to meet Aizawa. Instantly, you focus your attention on them.

“I wonder what that’s about.” Shinso cuts through your focus as he looks on at the two pro heroes.

“I’m not sure. I wonder if they felt the earth shaking earlier too.” Your mind takes over and drifts to the mental conversation between the two of them.

God, Aizawa, I can’t believe how stupid I was. I’m so sorry!

It’s them you should be apologizing to. You could’ve killed my students, you know.

I didn’t realize how close I was to the arena. I was trying to prepare for one of my lessons and the earth beast I was commanding got a little closer to this area than I intended. A LOT closer, apparently. Are they alright?

Thankfully, yes. All because Shinso has improved drastically on his speed. Not to mention his ability to manipulate the binding cloth. That’s how he was able to pull Y/N to safety. I would never tell them this but I’m not sure they realize how close that rock was…

You did your best to ignore the rest of the conversation, not really wanting it to sink in just how deadly that whole training exercise could have been.

Shinso picks up on your concentration, not really understanding what you could possibly be hearing from so far away. You two run in silence for the rest of the third lap.

At the start of the fourth lap, you show no intention of slowing down. Shinso rolls his eyes lazily.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me, you know. You can sit this one out and I won’t say a word.” He glances over to you, almost pleading.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Shinso. You’re just going to have to be stuck with me for one more lap. But don’t worry, I’ll give you your space after we BOTH complete this last mile.” You smile, looking ahead, still keeping up with the brainwasher.

I didn’t say anything about giving me space…

“Hitoshi.” He almost whispers.

“Huh?” You almost stop running at the unspoken words followed by what sounded like his first name.

“Call me Hitoshi.”

~*~

By the end of the fourth lap, you both were ready to call it on the cardio regardless of the fact that you both were actually in really good shape. The adrenaline from the rock incident earlier has subsided and you were looking forward to leaving the cliffy area.

You and Shinso both start to slow down to a jog as you approach Aizawa and Pixie Bob, stopping in front of the trainers waiting for your next instructions. Pixie Bob was the first to initiate conversation.

“I am SO sorry about the, uh, rumbling earlier. I understand that it almost resulted in, um, a bit of an accident—”

“A bit of an ‘accident?’ That could have killed Y/N.” Shinso cuts off the pro hero with a hint of malice laced in with his blunt recount of the events from earlier. Your eyes widened at his reply, mostly from the tone he spoke with in such a way to a seasoned hero…

And also at the sound of your name leaving his lips for the first time.

“Yes, and Erasure tells me that if not for you, we four—or rather—three would be having a very different conversation than the one we are having now. I am grateful to you Shinso for stepping up and saving the day when I clearly failed to take the necessary precautions.” Pixie Bob then turns to you, “I hope you can forgive me, Y/N. I am unable to offer anything other than my sincerest apologies and the promise that it won’t happen again.”

“It’s fine, Pixie Bob. Don’t worry about—”

“Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep. If we as students have to be aware of our surroundings, might I suggest a refresher for the ones who are to be training the students? I’d be pretty pissed if I was having to scrape up a dead classmate right now.” His eyes staring intensely at the Pussycat who seemed to have shrunk in size right before your very eyes.

Shit, he’s right. God, I feel like such an idiot, a student having to chastise me is a new low…

Hm...This is an interesting development. You look at Aizawa desperately wanting him to elaborate further on what the hell he could possibly mean by “interesting development” as well as step in and end the uncomfortable conversation that was unfolding before you.

What if I had been too late?...I barely even know this girl and I can’t imagine—

The air continued to get uneasy as Shinso’s mind flashed images of his perspective when the giant rock started to hurtle towards you, except the scene playing in his mind looked as though he was too late… As the images continued to replay over and over, you shudder, deciding now would be the perfect time to alter the emotional atmosphere.

If you got in trouble with your mentor, you didn’t care. You needed this to end NOW.

With Vibe, you breathe out, bringing in a more relaxed space around the four of you. Instantly, you see Shinso and Pixie Bob’s shoulders release tension and their faces soften. Funnily enough, Aizawa didn’t look affected at all. Then again, he didn’t really seem to be all that invested in the conversation taking place, at least not outwardly.

I see you decided to use Vibe, Y/N. Your eyes look up to Aizawa, almost pleadingly with a hint of apology. You couldn’t stand to go against the rules but you didn’t need everyone at each other’s throats over something that ended up working out just fine.

Shinso looks at you as though he realizes what you’ve done, his eyes confused as he has just experienced part of your quirk for the first time. Pixie Bob looks relieved to say the least.

“Well, we can leave the ‘scraping up dead classmate’ for another day!” You say, with a light chuckle. “I’m starving. You think it’s about lunch time, Mr. Aizawa?”

~*~

Pixie Bob left the three of you to walk back to the dining hall from the arena you had just been training. This time, it was Shinso who had decided to walk ahead of you and Aizawa, hands in his pockets and staring at the ground while he quickly tried to get some distance.

For a time, you and Aizawa walked in silence with his mind not really seeming to focus on anything in particular to draw your attention. Though you weren’t entirely sure as to how your teacher would react, you wanted to express your remorse for using your quirk earlier on the group without his expressed permission.

“Mr. Aizawa, sir, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I know I wasn’t given permission to use Vibe but—”

“You’re right. You had not been given permission.” He continued to look straight ahead, though his gait appeared lax as you both continued your slower pace towards the training facility.

“Right...I just...It won’t happen again, sir.” You bite your lip, hoping that you didn’t just make matters worse. It’s not like he had decided to chew you out or anything before you brought up the incident. Maybe it would have been better if you had just kept quiet on your way to lunch.

Though you will not catch me saying this out loud, I do understand why you did. Shinso seems to have been...affected by the earlier incident and I don’t believe it was the wrong thing for you to do.

You glance beside you and see that Aizawa has his eyes trained on you without turning his head.

“Yeah, well, hopefully he doesn’t hold it against me, you know, not saving myself instead of having to rely on his help.” You chastise yourself in front of your mentor.

“Is that why you ran the additional laps?” Aizawa has now shifted his eyes ahead, still maintaining his indifferent expression.

“Partly, yeah.” You admitted. Aizawa cocked an eyebrow at that.

“Well, it appears that Shinso has...taken an interest in you. So I don’t believe he will be holding it against you.” Now it’s your turn to blush, remembering the images that flashed through your mind earlier when you two were running with each other.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.” Am I REALLY talking about this with my teacher?!

“You’re a bright student, Y/N, which I know is something that he appreciates. You did give him a run for this money today during the training exercise. I know that he has been searching for a worthy opponent which I believe he may now consider you to be in the running.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, much like the indigo-haired man who shares the same habit. “In the meantime, consider ways you can continue to work on improving your quirk with the resources we have available here.” He seemed to almost end the conversation there but you had one more question.

“Sir, speaking of resources available...Do y-you think disclosing my full quirk to Shinso would be prudent?”

Aizawa slows his pace even more so than he was previously moving, clearly focusing on his words carefully as though forgetting you could likely predict his answer. You mirror him and wait patiently for his verbal advice when he flicks his eyes up to yours.

“That will be something for you to decide. For obvious reasons, it is best that as few people know about your quirk as possible, though it is YOUR quirk to manage. I also understand pieces of your background that would make you hesitant to disclose your full quirk for personal reasons.” He paused, clearly mulling over his thoughts as he tried to choose his next words carefully. “What I will say is this: If it were up to me to decide which student would be best for you to confide in the nature of your full quirk, Shinso would not be my last choice.”

Okay, I’m almost more confused than I was before this conversation started.

Aizawa noticed your eyebrows furrow as you tried to sort out exactly what it was that he was trying to say. He sighed, deciding that he ought to elaborate a little further.

“Shinso has had...similarly difficult experiences related to his quirk. He certainly would be able to relate with your struggles. He is a strong student, already catching up with class 1A even though you both have just joined. And if I know him as well as I think I do, he is trustworthy with sensitive information.” He turns to continue walking towards the training facility. “Still, it will be up to you to make the final decision.”

You two continue to walk in verbal silence, though you hear his mind trail on…

Shinso would be the best option. Really, the only option I am comfortable with…

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