#the way they just hold each other and look into each others eyes 😭

[mushhroooms]

Day 1. Oviposition w/ Neuvillette

A/N: This is probably the most unhinged thing out of everything I’ve ever written. Also probably OOC since the last time I was into Genshin was the multiple Albedo incident and Scara being revealed as Wanderer so I’m going off fics and what little I know of his character😭

I hope this is good :(

A/N #2: I’m so sorry this took forever to release. I've had a lot of stuff going on with my mental health and school. I’m trying to do it as fast as possible without rushing the fics!

Word count: 4.7k

Reader: The reader is gender neutral but has afab anatomy but other than that the reader’s body is not described!

This fic includes consent checks because consent is sexy❣️

Warnings: blood, branding, belly bulging, biting & marking, Breeding, collar & leash, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, blood mentions, master/pet, slapping (not the face though), soft sadist Neuvillette, possessive Neuvillette, soft dom Neuvillette, dom Neuvillette. Neuvillette goes feral, monster fucking (He’s a dragon so…), double penetration, overstim, oviposition, rut/heat cycles.

If I missed anything please let me know!

2/10 - Did a little edit to fix some parts that felt rushed!

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“Please-” you go to plead with your husband, who seems to be in a very bad mood today.

“Did I say you could speak?” he snaps, voice filled with a venom that you’ve never heard from him before.

“What’s gotten into you!? I can’t even just speak to Wriothesley now!?” You shout, your own irritation growing.

Your husband was never like this, never possessive, never jealous... This was all new and out of character for him and it worried you.

“I don’t like it! The way you were so close to each other!” He turns, and for a second you swear his pupils are more slitted than ever. “His scent on you” Disgust is in his tone.

Your shoulders droop, anger fading more into worry “What is going on, Neuvillette? You’ve never acted like this before.” Your eyes search his as he stares at you sitting on the edge of the bed from across the room. There’s something different, something primal in his eyes.

He calms down a bit, but you can tell he’s still angry by the look on his face, a frown, eyes seemingly glaring, his eyebrows furrowed. “I just don’t like what I sensed between you two.”

You get up and walk over to him, the gaze in his eyes makes you feel like… prey, nearly feral.

You look into his eyes as you stand before him “Neuvillette. You know there is nothing between me and Wriothesley, he’s just someone for me to talk to when you're busy. I love you.”

He calms fully, his shoulders fall as he calms down a bit, your hands cup his cheeks and your thumbs stroking his skin. “I… I know, I…”

“Hm?” You hum as he stops talking, not finishing his sentence.

“I can’t say I don’t know what came over me because that would be a lie.” He frowns

“Then tell me the truth, it’s ok.”

“It’s just… I want you all to myself. Forever.”

“And you have me.” Your voice is hushed.

“But, I-I want you more deeply, I want to know if anybody sees you they’ll know you belong to me. I want to mark you and… Archons, I just want to claim you in every possible way.” His voice comes as a bit of a growl and his hands grip your arms, pulling you closer and holding you in place.

His words and tone send shivers straight down your spine and to your core, you can feel it, the bulge in his pants against your thigh.

“Neuv-”

“I want you, I want you so badly” His breath is heavy and his hands grip your arms tighter. “I want to mark you up, I want to make you mine over and over again, I want to own you,” he growls and you feel the knee-weakening spark of arousal in your lower region at his words.

“Neuvillette-”

“My rut, it’s come, I can’t control myself- I-” He pulls you closer, against his body as he wraps his arms around you.

“Then take me.”

“W-What?”

“If you want me, then take me.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Beloved.” His voice shakes “You can’t say things like that during my-”

“I know” His hands grope your hips “But I mean it. You’re my husband. I want to help you.” “You… you can’t. I could hurt you.”

You’ve had sex together before, yes, so you’re aware of his… physique… but he has a point, you and Neuvillette have never spent a rut together, it’s the first one he’s had since you two have been married, and you have no clue on what to expect.

“I trust you” The words leave your mouth before you begin to think about what he may even do to you because it’s true, you trust him with your life.

His eyes widen a bit, the feral look in his eyes growing, and he growls “Love. I- You can’t possibly begin to imagine the things I want to do to you.”

“Then show me.”

He lets out a heavy breath before slamming his lips onto yours, your words spurring on his maddening lust. The kiss is rough and messy, and his hands roam and grope your body, like a wild man. “My love” He groans “I’m going to ruin you.”

He pushes you onto the bed and pulls away from the kiss, he looks down at you, pupils slit in lust, his breath hot and heavy as it fans your face “Do you mean it? You’ll let me do what I want?”

“Yes,” You whisper out breathlessly “I really trust you.”

The air falls silent as he pants, his hands gripping the sheets next to your head before he whispers out a small ‘fuck.’

“Strip” He demands.

He gets off you, peeling off his coat and shirt, before walking over to the fireplace, you sit up and begin to peel off your clothes, trying to figure out what he is doing. He’s holding a metal rod into the fire and your curiosity peaks “What are you doing?”

“I am going to brand you.” Your eyes widen at his blunt response, but your thighs instinctively press together as your cunt throbs, and he sees it in his peripheral vision, he smirks, feeling himself get even harder inside his pants.

“Everybody will know exactly who you belong to just by looking at you.” He begins to walk over, metal rod in hand, the shape on the end glowing with the sizzling metal.

“Turn around.” He orders and who are you to disobey your husband? You turn around on the bed, sitting on your knees, looking down at your hands clasped tightly together in your lap, waiting for the burn, for the pain. He places a hand on your shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze. “This won’t hurt too much, my love”

He leans in, placing soft kisses on the back of your neck before pressing the burning metal to the flesh of your back. You cry as you feel your skin begin to sizzle, he shushes you “I know beloved, just a bit more.” His voice is softer as he comforts you. You tremble, your skin burning as the metal shape steals the spot of your flesh. He kisses and nips the back of your neck and shoulders as he holds the brand to your flesh. You feel your flesh give way, molding to the shape, and you can only guess from feeling that it’s a dragon. But who knows? Your mind is blinded by the burning pain.

He pulls away the metal rod and from you. The comforting weight of his body, breath, and warmth disappear, leaving you to sob as your flesh stings in searing hot pain. You can distantly hear the metal being placed and some drawers open before his weight returns to you, his thighs encasing yours as he holds you from behind.

“Shhh… I know, Darling. You did so well for me.” He whispers, you can feel his erection pressing against your rear as he leans close to you, his arms drooping around your shoulders, kissing up and down the side of your neck. “So good.” He purrs before sinking his teeth into the nape of your neck, and you cry out sharply as his sharp teeth break through your skin, hands flying to claw at his forearm meekly. He growls at the sweet nectar of your blood on his tongue, his forked tongue lapping up every droplet of blood, his hands squeezing your hips as he grinds against your ass. “Do you know how pretty you are when you cry? When those big tears roll down your cheeks from those pretty eyes?”

He hums as his hands caress your hips before he presses his gloved fingers against your still-aching brand mark, smirking as you cry out, your voice cracking and breaking in pain. “So fucking pretty” He growls, his hand gripping your hips roughly as he presses his fingers against the mark, enjoying every single little whimper, whine, and cry of pain you let out. He pulls away, looking at the violent red brand mark and the sweet bubbles of blood on the wound from his teeth.

He grabs the cloth and alcohol that he had grabbed from the drawers, pouring some alcohol onto the cloth before pressing it to the brand mark, to keep it clean for now, you let out a tiny sob at the sting of the alcohol. “It’s ok, beloved.” he gives you a gentle kiss on the side of your neck, before he removes the cloth, flipping it over and putting alcohol on that side, before pressing it to the mark on the nape of your neck, and you whimper and flinch. He kisses your hair as he pulls the cloth away, hands going back to your hips, while he grinds against your ass again, making you whimper.

“You’ve done so good for me so far, but I am far from done with you.” He groans “On my lap.” He orders and you turn, slowly crawling onto his lap. Your hands are holding onto his shoulders as you look into his eyes. You sniffle and he smirks, his hands cupping your cheeks and using his thumbs to wipe your tears. He leans in to kiss your cheeks “So pretty” He whispers.

“How about you close your eyes for me, Sweetheart?” His thumb strokes your cheek, and your eyes flutter shut, “Good, so good for me.” His hands pull away from your face and a few seconds later you feel something start to enclose around your neck, velvety and thick, a soft ‘clip’ hits your ears as what you presume is a collar finally closes around your neck, snugly but not tight enough to cut off your lack of air. A small tug jerks your upper body forward.

“Open your eyes.” He says his previous ferality in his tone returning. Your eyes peek open softly, seeing the dark blue velvety leash wrapped around his hand. “How does that feel, pet? Good?” He tugs again, a little rougher this time, making sure the collar won’t hurt you. You can feel his hard-on straining in his pants against your bare cunt.

He smirks and tugs again “Grind down onto me, pet.” He orders, and who are you to disobey him?

Your hips press down, and the rough fabric of his pants against your clit makes you whimper, “Neuvill-” Your moan is interrupted as you cry out when his hand harshly slaps your thigh, leaving a red mark in its wake.

“No, no,” He tugs the leash hasher, making you fold, your hands resting on the bed beside his hips as you grind your aching cunt down onto his clothed erection. “What’s my name, pet?” He emphasizes your title in his question, making sure you know your place.

“Master” You whine, your hips speeding up as your stomach begins to burn with the build of your orgasm, fuck, were you really that close already?

“Good, very good” He coos, his voice thick with lust and pleasure as you grind against the bulge in his pants, leaning in, he buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting into your shoulder, ears soaking in every sound of your pleasure. “You gonna cum?” He hums into your skin as he takes in your scent. Your whimpers and moans seem never-ending as you grind against him, the neediness in your movements is a big give away and you would be ashamed in any other situation if his hand weren’t on your hip helping you.

“Cum on me” He whispers, taking another bite, softer this time, into the side of your neck, You feel your cunt clench, and your clit throb, so close, so so close.

“Master- Master, please-” You cry out as you cum, hips stuttering before you collapse onto him, gripping his coat, as your cunt trembles around nothing and your body shakes.

“There you go, such a good pet for Master huh?” He whispers relishing as you jolt with the aftershocks of pleasure. “Now everybody will know you belong to me…” The words are more to himself as his fingers ghost the bite marks he’s left on you. “Lean back.” The order is simple but shocks you to the core, you know what comes next.

Nonetheless, you lean back. Your hands grip his thighs to hold yourself. He peels off his gloves, never breaking eye contact as he tosses them in the direction of the foot of the bed, where both of your clothes lie, his hand gripping the leash trails down to let his fingers rub slow, precise circles on your clit, his hold tugging the leash, forcing your head down to watch as his fingers rub your hard, sensitive clit.

“Cum again, on my fingers this time.”

You pant and whimper out “But, I just came-”

“It was not a request.” He snaps, cutting you off, pinching your clit, making you jolt. “You will cum on my fingers.”

His fingers speed up and your body shakes in overstimulation, you whine as your eyes clench shut and you feel the pressure grow. “Like that pet, cum, you can do it. Cum.” He demands, his voice hushed to a whisper as his eyes bore at your closed ones. “It’s too much!” You feel every muscle in your body tense, your back arch, your breath grows shaky, and every pant comes with a tremble in your throat. Your eyes squint open, tears gathering at your lash line as you watch the muscles in his hand contract with every movement of his hand.

“Cum.” his hand gives your hip an encouraging grope as he feels your cunt clench.

You sob, your hips stutter and buck, before your back arches, pressing your body against his as your body spasms. “Shhh… Shhh, you’re ok, pet” He whispers, still rubbing circles on your clit as you orgasm, eyes rolling back into your head.

His continued ministrations make you squeal “M-Master, please!” you sob out, shaking and trembling. He pulls you into his chest, making your head rest on his shoulder as he adjusts his angle, slipping two of his fingers into you as his other hand takes place on your clit, rubbing your clit in tight circles while nimble fingers start to spread out your cunt, scissoring, and curling inside of you.

You feel like you’re about to explode, the corners of your vision start to blacken, you let out a choked noise, and he kisses the top of your head “C’mon, you can do it.” His tone is encouraging, despite him knowing full well the overwhelm he’s putting you through right now. “Please-” you go to plead, it feels good, but it's also too much “Do it, pet.” He orders, you practically feel your body tick with each jolt of pleasure, each thrust of his fingers hitting your G-spot, each rub on your clit. “I’ve got you, pet. Now, cum.”

Your hips buck wildly and you cry as your cunt spasms “Master! Master!”

Your juices soak his hand and forearm as you squirt, eyes squeezing shut, body shaking, and tears streaming down your face. “There you go, pet, so good for me.” He praises, his fingers still inside you and his rubs on your clit slowly, working you through your orgasm. He places a kiss on your throat “You’re so good for me, so pretty when you cry and make a mess.’

He pulls his fingers away, letting you tremble as you come down from your high, kissing your forehead “I love you pet, so much.”

“I love you, too…” You say breathlessly, he grabs you by the hips, moving you so you lay down on the bed, under him “Are you ready, my love? This next part will get… intense." he whispers as he undoes his belt.

You nod softly, you’re overstimulated already but don’t want to disappoint and he can tell, he stops for a moment, his belt undone, and he cups your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as his slit-pupil eyes look down at you. “My beloved, are you sure? If you are unsure about this I can stop.”

“No, I’m sure. I’m just overstimulated… I promise, I want this.” You respond softly, reassuring him, and he gives a soft smile, he moves his hands from your hips to your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “I’ll start gently, okay?” He whispers, kissing your cheek softly as he reassures you.

He untangles his fingers from yours, hands going back to his pants, undoing the button and zipper, and pulling his pants off, tossing them with the rest of both your clothes, leaving him only in his briefs, the large bulge in them nothing except intimidating. He can see the look in your eyes, the slight hesitation, he knew it was a struggle for you to take it every time you’ve both had sex.

“I’ll start gently… I know you’re overstimulated and it’s quite a stretch, but I will ensure it’s comfortable for you, okay?” He reassures you, thumbing at your thighs to comfort you. You nod and swallow when his hand pulls away from your thigh, trailing to his briefs to pull them down, you feel your breath catch in your throat, and your cunt throb, he gives you one last look, making sure you’re ok. He knows he won’t be able to stop once he’s started, when he’s buried in your warmth. 

He pulls down his briefs, and the tips of his cocks slap against his abdomen, there’s pearls of pre-cum resting on the slits, the tips are flushed deeply, and they twitch when the cold air of the room hits the leaky tips. You swallow and his hands go back to hold your thighs, he pulls you closer, pulling your head from the pillows so you lay flat against the bed, he lifts your legs, putting them over his shoulders. He smooths his hands down your legs, from your ankles to the back of your thighs, pressing them to your chest as he leans over you, trapping you there with his cocks resting on your lower tummy, his fingers ghosting from the back of your thighs, over your shoulders, before cupping your cheeks. He looks into your eyes, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

He’s checking you, again, trying to find that hint of hesitation, of fear. He feels his heart skip a beat when he sees none of those. He sees the trust, the love in your eyes. He kisses the tip of your nose, before he takes his hands off your cheeks, embedding them in the bed next to your head.

He pulls his hips back, his tips rubbing against your clit as he positions himself, you whimper at the sensation, your hips subconsciously squirm to try and get more friction, he groans as he feels you rub against his cocks and finds himself grinding his hips into yours. His cocks rubbing through your slick cunt and bumping on your clit. He snarls and ruts his hips faster “You smell so good, so sweet- fuck- you feel so good-” His hands tangled in the sheets, grip tighter and you yelp when you feel the cold feel of his tail wrap around your waist. He growls as his tips catch on your entrance before slipping and bumping harshly on your clit, making you gasp. He huffs as he positions himself again, putting his force into pushing into you. His breath hitches as he feels your cunt give way to him, his flushed tips pressing into your warmth. He groans loudly as you whimper, his cocks sinking deeper into your sweet cunt.

He pants as he bottoms out inside you, claws gripping the sheets and threatening to rip them. “You feel so good my love…” he groans out again, his fang digging into his bottom lip, drawing blood. You pant as well, underneath him, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head just from him bottoming out. He chuckles, one of his hands releasing the sheets from his death grip and trailing down your body, pressing down on the bulge on your tummy. You moan shakily, the pressure making your walls tighten around him, ensuring you can feel every inch… every vein… every throb. 

“Are you sure about this… my love? Once I start, I will not stop till I am satisfied.” He says breathlessly, his purple eyes piercing your very soul. “I’m sure, I want this.” You reassure him, you wanted to tell him that if you really didn’t want this, you’re cunt wouldn’t be as soaked as it is but the words left your brain with his first shallow thrust, flushed tips poking at your cervix. You gasp, and he lets out a quiet groan. His pace is slow, and shallow, trying to make sure you're ok first before he lets himself go. You grow slightly frustrated with the ever so slow pace, reaching up and cupping his face “Please, Neuvillette, I’m ready.” You whisper, and his eyes meet yours once again before he growls quietly. “I’d grab onto the sheets then.” He whispers, and before you can question what exactly he means by that, his hips are pulled back, snapping forward just as fast, stretching your walls and pounding you mercilessly into the mattress with each thrust, the bedframe creaking with a protest at the rough and fast movements, the tips of his cocks for sure to be bruising your cervix, your sure tomorrow you won’t be able to walk, but right now that’s the last thing on your mind. His claws had already ripped through the sheets next to your head, your own hands digging into the sheets.

“You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He growls out, his eyes falling shut, and his eyebrows furrowing, baring his fangs as he bites your shoulder. You feel tears well once more in your eyes, clouding your vision. A bittersweet mixture of pleasure and pain. “Neuv-Neuvillette.” You barely manage to moan out in pain between your moans and cries. Your ankles dangling uselessly over his shoulders. You’re already close again. Your eyes squeeze shut and a sob tears through your throat as you cum, his hips never once faltering as he fucks you through your orgasm. He’s focused, so incredibly focused on the way your weeping cunt sucks him in despite the rest of your body’s protests, on the way his tips are pounding against your cervix with every thrust, where he’ll plant his seed, where you will bear him children.

His pace is unrelenting, his tail wrapped around your waist tightening its hold just a bit, he pulls his fangs from your neck, forked tongue lapping up the blood. He wraps his arms around you, forcing your back to arch as he hugs you, cocks feeling like they’re pounding into your sensitive cunt even deeper. You sob, your arms wrapping around his neck, nails clawing at his back, your bleary eyes seeing your ankles dangling over his shoulders and your ears ringing with the sound of skin slapping and the wet squelching of your poor pussy. “Neuvillette! Neuvillette!” You cry out.

“So good for me, so good.” He growls, his arms tightening around you. He’s starting to get close, he can feel his cocks throb inside your warm cunt. “I’m gonna cum, I want to cum inside you, please. I want to give you my eggs.” He practically whines, despite the fact he was growling just seconds ago. The thought of planting his eggs deep inside your womb, having your belly grow round and your body plump as they grow inside you, drives him crazy. Your thighs shake as you feel your upcoming orgasm. The thought of him laying his eggs in you is both exciting and terrifying. Will they fit? When they grow will you even be able to birth them?

Logic and worry go out the window as he angles his hips, the tips of his cocks pounding against your g-spot with every snap of his hips, you feel the pressure growing, and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his forked tongue caressing the bud as he suckles. His claws dig into your skin threatening to break your skin from his death grip, his arms wrapped around you not even allowing you to squirm away by as much as an inch.

“Neuvillette! Cumming! M’ cumming!” He pulls away from your nipple, leaving the bud sore, his hips moving faster “Cum. Cum for me.” He demands. You feel your orgasm crash into you like a freight train; your legs tremble as you squirt again. Your eyes roll back into your head as you soak his pelvis, your back arching even more in his hold, a wave of white crashing into you. He lets out a primal growl, his hips moving faster, pounding into you. His growls and groans and grunts grow, and his claws break your skin, droplets of blood spilling from the claw marks now adorning your sides. He grunts loudly, hips slamming in one last time before he stills, his cum pouring into you, deep into your womb. He pants, his cock pulsing and twitching with every spurt of cum into your depths, your walls milking him as your body trembles.

His hold doesn’t falter “Do you want it, love? Do you want my eggs?” He whispers down to you, your mind is foggy from overstimulation and the afterglow of your orgasms. He finally releases you, letting your body slump to lay down on your back again on the bed, caressing your cheeks as he helps you come back down to earth. “Yes.” you whisper out as your senses slowly return to you.

“Are you sure?” He asks ever so softly, making sure you are 100%. You nod, shaky hands reaching up to pull him gently down into a kiss. He kisses you with fervor, tender and soft. His hands cup your cheeks as you feel something moving up through one of his cocks, you gasp. He pushes himself deeper, his tips poking at your spongy cervix, you can feel the object trying to pry past your cervix, it stings as you feel yourself begin to open up and allow the object in and he groans lowly, the sound soft as the weight leaves him, the egg planting itself in your womb. The egg is rather large and the weight is nearly crushing, it makes you whimper as you feel the foreign object and weight. He practically purrs into the kiss, another bump moving up the length of his cocks, before planting itself in your womb alongside its sibling. You would feel embarrassed, the coil in your tummy tightening, going to cum from him laying his eggs in you, but with how fucked out your mind is can’t bring yourself to care.

“So good. Do-ing so good for me, love.” He grunts out breaking the kiss as another begins to travel, a thin string of saliva connecting your mouths still, “Last one, so good-” He mumbles, Groaning as the the final egg leaves him, snuggling in your crowded womb next to the others. Your walls twitch around his cock, and you tremble as the third egg finally settles in place, your walls spasming and milking his cocks as you cum, a sob tearing through your throat. He shushes you, running a hand through your hair.

“So good for me, my love, so full of my clutch.” He rubs your stomach, which now has a tiny but noticeable bump. His voice is soft as he brings you down from your intense high. Your body is still trembling, and he kisses a tear off your cheek. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“Heavy.” Is all you can manage to mumble out “No pain?” He asks softly. You shake your head. “Good. Good.” He kisses your forehead, still rubbing the bump on your stomach. You feel your eyes droop, the exhaustion from the overstimulation and intense sex taking its toll.

He kisses your forehead again “Sleep love, I’ll clean you up.” You hum in response, too tired to form words, your eyes shut and you sigh, sleeping overtaking your overworked mind, you can distantly feel the warm damp cloth cleaning bite marks and the mess between your legs, his voice is softly heard, not talking to you, no, but to your stomach, a warm smile overtakes your face and the last thing you feel being his hand caressing your bumped up tummy and kissing it before the arms of sleep wrap around you and you sink into the mattress.

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

Ohohoho, I see more stp related character ask games. In which case, thoughts on Hunted? Could always use more Hunted content out here

(Ooooo Hunted!!! The silliest of fellas)

(And as I’m writing this my appreciation for him just skyrockets ten fold. He makes me. Let’s just say. Feral.)

(Ask is here!!! vvvvvv Sorry that it looks like this, I’m on IPad🗿)

(Also the reply is getting too long (again), sooo gonna put a cut somewhere here…)

FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

Probably how reliable he is in general. I feel like he’s probably the voice that is the most loyal to Quiet alongside Hero. He just really doesn’t seem like the type of character to have any hidden agenda underneath his actions. He’s just, when he thinks of something, he’d just do it instinctively. I love how he just focuses on the now and what’s happening around him, and doesn’t rely on what he sees only. He’s a really simple guy and all he really wants is safety. And I really like that about him. (The contrast between him and Oppy is glaring here)

And also despite the fact that instinct is a big part that makes him “him”, he’s not completely feral and still holds that humanity inside of him. I think he’s pretty darn neat.

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

It’s how little he had appeared 😭😭😭

He needs more chapter 3 appearances aside from his own

Both him and Skeptic need more chapters actually.

(And honestly I don’t have much “””bad””” stuff to say about him. He’s just overall a very likeable character to me)

FAVORITE LINE

“Does a cat lie to a cornered mouse just to play with its freedom, or is it acting out its own nature?” (You’ll see this line again)

“The Look. We’ve all used it.”

“Looking at her makes me sad.”

BROtp

Gotta say Hunted and Witch. Hunted pairs well with many other voices and vessels, but the thought of two semi-feral characters interacting with each other is kind of adorable to me. Just. Similar brain wave signals. Vrrrrrrrr. Y’know.

Witch would just sniff Hunted and be like “hmmm he doesn’t smell like a liar to me” and she would just be chilling with him with half an eye closed and half of it open. Just in case. And Hunted just sees her as someone who’s gotten hurt. And had to fight back like a scared animal. So I think he would empathise with her. Idk.

Stubborn and Hunted is a good one too. I could imagine Stubborn and Hunted just sparring with each other whenever they could. The battle always ends in a stalemate though, since Hunted just dodges Stubborn’s attacks most of the time. And by the time Hunted is tired dodging Stubborn is tired as well. But knowing Stubborn he would try to throw a punch at him anyway. And then failing cause they have bodies now. Stubborn takes it as a challenge and is thrilled to see what other stuff Hunted could do. Unstoppable force vs Immovable object.

And the mental thought of Stubborn throwing Hunted like a Pokeball and be like “Hunted I choose you” is just so funny to me. And. Just. Hunted riding on Stubborn’s shoulder. So cute.

OTP

He honestly pairs well with a lot of them tbh, so I don’t think I can choose an exact one.

NOtp

I have none hehe

RANDOM HEADCANON

He would sometimes bite the other voices to show affection. If he is feeling really bite-y that day he would just find something to chew on just so he won’t accidentally hurt the others.

Also, the current smaller form you see of him is not his full form. That’s just him holding back his more feral side, and hence why he looks so tiny. He’s way taller and stronger than he looks.

(Sneak peak of his feral form!!!)

A more antsy head canon I’ve got for him is that a part of him always have this urge to consume the other voices since they are technically parts of the same guy. He feels really guilty about feeling this way. When that feeling is too strong he would lock himself away from the flock until it passes.

UNPOPULAR OPINION

(This is becoming less of an unpopular opinion and more of a ramble as I’m writing this, but I’m just gonna keep this here because I think this is pretty interesting)

I feel like he would take an integral role in helping the other voices in fighting against their nature, since he is so used to doing that himself. Many of the fics I’ve read where the voices are starting to become more complex and more than their nature often doesn’t mention Hunted at all. He would definitely take a role in helping the voices manage their own urges in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone, knowing how he empathises with Den despite everything she has done to them.

He shines the most when he is paired with Oppy regarding this. Oppy embraces his own nature, and often times to his own detriment. Hunted wouldn’t trust him, but he would still protect and look after him anyway since he is still a part of the flock. If Oppy ever shows an ounce of genuine interest in fighting against his urge to betray people for his own benefit, Hunted would be one of the first ones to help and encourage him.

“Does a cat lie to a cornered mouse just to play with its freedom, or is it acting out its own nature?”

Nature vs Nurture baby!!!!

SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH THEM

Butcher Vanity, specifically him in Den where he goes completely feral

And also Kaibutsu/怪物. It can be a shared song between Hunted and Oppy, but mostly Hunted.

FAVOURITE PICTURE OF THEM

(I love it when I just draw him like a fu@king creature)

(He’s so derpy-looking here)

[maeevel]

“Sorry, my darlings, Apollo thought, not feeling an ounce of remorse that he was using his children as an excuse to get closer to Percy Jackson.”

🤣🤣🤣🤣 I can just imagining Cabin 7’s faces. I don’t think they would even be angry, truth be told. They would just look at each other deadpan and think yeah, that tracks.

Honestly, they might even be a little understanding. I mean, it’s Percy Jackson. Who could blame Apollo for going above and beyond in order to seduce her? They are just glad their father hasn’t pulled a Hades.

I just hope they manage to milk this for all its worth. I want each Apollo kid to look their dad in the eye and ask for the most exorbitant gift (for all the birthdays you missed dad - he has never missed a single birthday) possible. Let’s just say, thank the Fates Apollo is a god, because any mortal would struggle under the barrage of requests.

I’m imagining something like this scene:

Apollo: Will, my boy! I’m sorry I forgot your birthday! Tell daddy what you want, we can make a camp-wide celebration with all your siblings! I will bring the cake! And a date.

Will, confused, clearly remembering waking up the morning of his birthday months ago to an Apollo-crafted magical medical satchel hanging from his bedpost: Dad? But you-

Apollo, grabbing Will by the shoulders and angling him just right so he can see Percy ‘hiding’ in the bushes, monitoring their interaction: I know! I know what you are about to say! I’ve been a terrible, negligent father to my darling angels! But I promise you, son, I will strive to become worthy of you and your siblings again!

Will, suddenly deadpan, the light of clarity and second-hand embarrassment in his eyes: oh. Oh I see. I understand. Wow dad, just… wow. I’m so… happy. Yes, so happy right now. You’re such a great dad. Yeah.

Kayla, standing just behind Will, holding a seven-pages long itemized list of things she wants Apollo to give/do for her. A line of other Apollo children, holding their own lists, stretches behind her: Yeah, yeah, dad’s finally shaping up. He’s got a long way to go though. Until then, he can warm up by getting me *starts listing off the things she wants* *pauses on Item 9 to look her father in the eye* you know, you could also get us a stepmother. Just throwing that out there. The younger ones would really like a stepmother. Wouldn’t you Timmy?

Little 5-years old Timmy, blinking wide blue eyes at Percy crouching behind foliage, tilting his head cutely: Mama?

Kayla, looking inordinately pleased: That’s right.

Apollo, suddenly feeling like he’s staring down Artemis’ arrow: … maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Percy, too far away to listen to what’s being said and drunk on her apparent success: look at them go, now that’s what I call family bonding. Everything’s going swimmingly. I should start advertising to the other gods, I’m clearly amazing at this.

This right here is gold 😭 Thank you for feeding my inspiration with this, I love everything about it!! Cabin 7 is going to be so done with their dad lol

[pbaz7]

was going through an insane crash out yesterday and the tenn game was just the cherry on top. really needing this rn lmao.

“Go back to sleep, pretty.”

tearing up alr

“You’re lucky you look like your mama, you know that?”

if their kid does end up looking like azzi that little girl is about to be spoiled beyond anyone's wildest dreams

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re more important,” she sighed, giving her tiny hand a gentle squeeze.

🥹

“She thinks I don’t know it, but she’s been running my life since I was fifteen.”

azzi had her on a leash for nearly a decade atp

“I swear, she could tell me to do anything, and I’d do it. No hesitation,” Paige admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “And now you? I just know you’re gonna be the same way. I’m gonna be in trouble with you two. Probably broke.”

at least she's aware!

“And you? You’re the best thing we ever did…”

ever better than getting that 2025 natty?! (let me stay delusional)

Azzi’s heart melted.

how could it not

Azzi watched in disbelief before shaking her head. “Oh, this is ridiculous. She’s already got a favorite.”

p tends to have that effect on people unfortunately (fortunately)

Aliana was sound asleep, bundled up in her little UConn onesie, oblivious to the fact that she was about to make her first official appearance in Gampel Pavilion.

uconn fan since BIRTH quite literally

Azzi sighed, shaking her head as a small smile pulled at her lips. “I still can’t believe we call him Grandpa now.”

oh em gee this is adorable. geno pls get ur act together and stop making game losing calls and maybe this can happen irl!

“Oh. My. God,” she gasped, eyes wide with shock and excitement.

still extra and dramatic all these years later

her fingers already moving to undo the straps.

can't even call you out for the double entendre bc this is genuinely so adorable

Ice shook her head, laughing. “Oh, you already on that parent logic, huh?”

girl math parent logic

just Paige and Azzi, tucked into each other like they were back in college, stealing moments in between practices.

just thinking about them being so cute and annoying during practice and lit tearing up. I can't have it be over guys😭

Paige tightened her hold, letting out a small hum of satisfaction. “I missed this,” she admitted. “Just… holding you.”

longing for simpler times right with p and az... oh how I miss Hopkins p

“You’re my wife. Meaning you’re irreplaceable, Bueckers.”

literally can't imagine either of them with anyone else

When they pulled away, she whispered, “God, you’re beautiful.”

azzi almost looks like ai she's so perfect. like sometimes I wonder if she's real

Paige smirked. “I do know. But please tell me more.”

she's just the same

“Yeah, but when she doesn’t want to sleep unless she’s on your chest?

this trait seems to be hereditary then...

Paige pulled out the tiny noise-canceling headphones and carefully adjusted them over Aliana’s little head.

just thinking of kate martin holding her nephew with those stupid little headphones over his head

The moment people noticed the baby in Paige’s arms, the volume somehow got even louder.

cuz they know that little girl bout to be playing for them in like 17 years

After a moment, Paige sighed and carefully, almost reluctantly, shifted Aliana into Azzi’s arms.

this is so dad watching the Super Bowl core

Paige smirked. “Guess she likes messing with you already. Knew she’d be just like me.”

azzi got TWO of these hoes to deal with. someone give her an award for patience

“I get it, baby. Auntie Nika is a lot sometimes.”

would NEVER in a million years trust nika with my kid... but love that for p and az!

but they’re practically vibrating waiting to meet you.”

me core I fear

“She was always putting me first. It didn’t matter how much pressure she was under, how exhausted she was from practice—she always made sure I felt loved.”

azzi stop talking before I start sobbing

You and me? We’re the luckiest girls in the world.”

and a tear rolled down my cheek🥹

Paige leans in and presses a quick but lingering kiss to her lips, not caring in the slightest about the people around them.

just one of these is all I want! it doesn't even have to be on the lips guys just a cute little kiss on the forehead at the draft or smth

“I mean, can you blame me? I bagged the most beautiful woman in the world and we have the cutest baby ever. I think I’ve earned the right to be a little cocky.”

I mean she does have a point...

Paige and Azzi both chuckle at the comment. Paige leans in slightly toward Azzi, murmuring, “They’re already trying to recruit her.”

knowing who her parents are you can't blame em

“Move over, CD. Let me see my granddaughter.”

gramps is so sassy lmao

a familiar but unexpected face appeared beside them.

wait im scared

“You and Azzi still going strong, huh?”

who is this ugly hoe..

As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Azzi turned to Paige. “I thought we were done with your groupies at this stage.”

nah that's just what comes with marrying Paige bueckers

Now, Azzi was straddling Paige’s lap, her arms draped lazily over Paige’s shoulders as they kissed.

OH?!

“Doesn’t change anything,” she said, her voice low but firm. “You know I can’t do it.”

yeah im on team Paige here I would efintley not have sex in front of my kid lmao... no matter how young they are

Azzi let out a laugh just before Paige kissed her again, pulling her under the warmth of the water, their laughter fading into something softer.

can't even be mad I was robbed cuz this is adorable

ugh I love pazzi as parents so much

truly still in shambles about yesterday

dare I say I knew we were gonna lose from before the game even started...

anyway author, as usual, I love you

-🍉

tearing up alr

everybody said this 😭

ever better than getting that 2025 natty?! (let me stay delusional)

exactly you see the vision..yup..yup

oh em gee this is adorable. geno pls get ur act together and stop making game losing calls and maybe this can happen irl!

please luigi i need you to get it together

azzi almost looks like ai she's so perfect. like sometimes I wonder if she's real

this is so real

would NEVER in a million years trust nika with my kid... but love that for p and az!

i wouldn’t trust any of them with a child

and a tear rolled down my cheek

sorry 😬

just one of these is all I want! it doesn't even have to be on the lips guys just a cute little kiss on the forehead at the draft or smth

man gimme something please

also i’m letting that game drift from my memory permanently ✨

[mobius-m-mobius]

Lokius + touch in season 2 / (season 1)

[liliadrawingstuff]

OHHH MY GODDDDDD

Finally finished this WIP :')

Some of Faba's jewellry is missing I know,, I didn't want him poking Colress' eye out with that crown ;;

[harrysfolklore]

little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz absolutely hate each other. carlos thinks she’s immature, yn calls him a little bitch on social media. they also kiss every now and then. PART TWO

word count: over 10k + social media posts

folkie radio: guys this fic is my baby okay 🥲🥲 please take care of it i spent like two weeks writing it. FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED !!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2023 SEASON

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ynpiastri that’s my optimistic little brother cry about it 😚 see y’all after the break

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username1 LAJSIA SO MESSY

username2 yn really said you will NAWT mess with my little brother

lilyzneimer Love you forever 😂

↳ ynpiastri ilysm

username3 the sainz - piastri drama just spiced this season up

mclaren That’s our boy 🧡

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri fighting on the internet and oscar is just 🧍

username5 the fact that daniel ricciardo and pierre gasly liked yn’s tweet too 😭

landonorris Stop fighting people on the internet please

↳username1 HELP HIS BESTIES ARE FIGHTING

↳ ynpiastri never 😤

oscarpiastri When nobody got me I know my messy sister got me

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SM

↳ yourinstagram HE SAID NO PICKLES !!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

"You didn't have to tweet that," Oscar said, giving you a look from his seat.

You were currently traveling from Belgium to Monaco in McLaren's private jet after the race weekend, and the main topic of the day was your little message to Carlos Sainz after his statement about your brother.

"Osc, he's being a petty bitch," you shrugged, "He keeps blaming you for what happened on the track and we all know it was his fault."

"Lando, can you help me out please?" Oscar looked at his teammate, who was immersed on his phone as a way to avoid the conversation.

"Oh no, don't put me in the middle of this," Lando shook his head, "I have enough PR issues myself."

"We know you're siding with your bestie anyways," you said, making him roll his eyes.

This dynamic was nothing new. Lando and Carlos Sainz were best friends, and so were Lando and you. The issue? You couldn't stand Carlos at all, and Lando was always in the middle of your bickering.

Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced out of the window. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but sometimes it's better to let things slide. Engaging with him on social media only adds fuel to the fire."

He had a point. Deep down you knew it, however, your were short tempered and protective towards your loved ones, so it was natural that you took the chance to come for Sainz's neck when he gave you a reason to.

"I get it, Osc. I just can't stand seeing him drag your name through the mud when you're not even at fault," you stressed, "You're my little brother, I'll always get protective, you know?"

"I know, and I appreciate you having my back," Oscar said, softening his tone. "But it's not worth it. Like you said, I'm not engaging with whatever he's saying so there's no point of starting stuff."

"He started it, I'm just finishing it," you shrugged, and Oscar gave you a pointed look, you were older than him, but he was definitely more mature than you. "Fine, I'll try to hold back next time," you sighed, leaning back in your seat.

Lando finally looked up from his phone, a smirk on his face. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it? Now, can we all be friends?"

"If that includes Sainz then no, we can't,"

You could never be friends with Carlos Sainz. That was literally impossible.

For starters, you were pretty sure he didn't even know your name, he was always too full of himself to even acknowledge those around him.

And lastly, he was a bitch to your brother on and off track.

"I just, I would really like for you two to get along," Lando said and you immediately rolled your eyes at his words, "You're both important to me, and it sucks being caught in the middle. Plus I don't even understand why do you dislike him so much."

You knew the real reason why you disliked him so much, you perfectly did. However, that was a subject that you decided to ignore every single time.

"Honestly? I find him arrogant. He always acts like he's the center of the universe. He never takes responsibility for his actions and always tries to shift the blame onto others. It's frustrating to watch."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it, but you have to understand, Carlos is actually a good guy once you get to know him. He's passionate and competitive, sure, but he's also loyal and a great friend."

"I get that he's like your hero or something," you teased, "But it's not going to happen, Lando. I don't think I'll ever like Carlos, and I really wish you’d stop pushing the subject."

"Look, you don't have to be his best friend or something," Oscar intervened, "Just promise me you won't punch him when you see him in the paddock after the summer break."

"No promises."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri a weekend in monaco with some of my favorite people 🤍 back to race cars soooon (love being a nepo sister)

tagged: oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris

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username1 SLAAAY

username2 ahhhh lily x oscar content thank u yn

francisca.cgomes having major fomo rn, love you all babies 🥲

↳ ynpiastri get over hereeeee

username3 she has the dream life

charles_leclerc Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you

↳ ynpiastri never

↳ alexandrasaintmleux We’re like this 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t do this to me

lilyzneimer 🤍

oscarpiastri I think you just invented the term “nepo sister”

↳ ynpiastri and i’m too iconic for that

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Going to Jimmy'z the last day of the summer break was a tradition among the drivers at this point.

You looked forward to it, for you, nothing could beat a night of loud music, drinks and friends. You thought that was the reason you got along with Lando and quickly became best friends.

“Ready to tear up the dance floor?” Lando shouted over the music, giving you smirk

“Always!” you replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the center of the action, Oscar and Lily being their introvert selves decided to stay at the table with some of your friends.

After a few songs, you returned to the table to catch your breath and order another round of drinks.

Oscar looked up from his conversation with Lily and smiled as you approached.

“Having fun?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. “You two should join us on the dance floor.”

Lily laughed softly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re enjoying people-watching.”

“Suit yourselves,” you said, shrugging, "I'm going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"

Oscar shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"I'll have another gin and tonic," Lily said, giving you a warm smile.

"Got it," you replied, turning towards the bar.

As you made your way through the crowded club, you found an open spot at the bar and flagged down the bartender. As you waited for your drinks, you felt someone step up beside you. Glancing to your left, you saw the last person you wanted to run into tonight... or ever.

Carlos Sainz was standing there with what you called his "resting bitch face" and acting like he owned the place.

You knew chances of him being at Jimmy'z for the last day of the summer break were high and you had decided earlier that you were just going to ignore him for the night if you ever ran into him. After all, you were there to have fun, not to get into a confrontation. But you were known for being short-tempered, a stark contrast to your brother's laid-back demeanor.

When you heard Carlos order his drink without so much as a “please,” you couldn't help but call him out.

"Whiskey, neat," he ordered, his tone clipped and lacking any form of politeness, his Spanish accent that you found absolutely irritating coming through.

“A 'please' would be nice, you know,” you interjected.

Carlos turned to you, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you replied coolly. “It's not hard to be polite.”

"Do I know you?" Carlos stared at you for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh you're Piastri's sister, aren't you?”

“That I am,” you confirmed, your tone equally cold.

“Figures," Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "You’re the one who sent me that lovely message on Twitter.”

“You deserved every word,” you replied, crossing your arms.

“Did I now?” Carlos leaned closer, his expression hardening. “You don't even know the whole story. You just assume I'm the bad guy because of Oscar."

“I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you never take responsibility for your actions. You always blame someone else.”

“And what about you?," Carlos’s jaw tightened, "Hiding behind your keyboard, throwing insults. That's real mature.”

“Someone had to say it,” you replied, refusing to back down. “You can't just go around acting like you're untouchable.”

“And you can't go around thinking you're some kind of vigilante,” Carlos retorted. “Can't your little brother handle things himself?.”

“Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, people wouldn't have to call you out,” you snapped, feeling your temper flare.

Carlos sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I don't have time for this. Just stay out of my way, alright?”

“Gladly,” you replied, turning away from him.

When you rejoined your friends, they noticed your tense expression. Lando shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head.

"Ask you bestie," you simply said and Lando threw his head back in frustration, once again, he was in the middle of his two best friends tension.

“I’ll talk to him," Lando said, sipping on his drink.

"Don't bother, he's a bitch."

Later that night, Lando found Carlos near the dancefloor chatting with some friends. He pulled him aside, needing to get to the bottom of the latest incident.

“What happened with YN now?” Lando asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Carlos shrugged before speaking, “I was minding my own business, ordering a drink, and she just came at me."

“And?” Lando raised an eyebrow.

“And she’s just so immature and arrogant,” Carlos continued, “She’s always ready to pick a fight over the smallest things. It’s embarrassing.”

Lando shook his head. “Look, Carlos, YN is protective of Oscar. She sees you two butting heads and she gets defensive. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like she’s completely unreasonable.”

“Well, she sure seems unreasonable to me," Carlos crossed his arms, "I don’t know how you deal with it.”

Lando sighed. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I wish you two could just get along, but I know that’s asking a lot. Just... try to give her a bit of slack, alright? She’s not a bad person.”

"She's insufferable."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynpiastri has added to their stories

carlossainz55 replied to your story

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ynpiastri little bitches everywhere, always a pleasure monza

tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc

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username1 HEEEELP

username2 she’s so messy we needed this 😭

lilyzneimer I can’t wait to hear this rant in person

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username3 IS THIS CARLOS SHADEEEE

username4 not her adding the radio message

landonorris I would like to be excluded from this narrative

↳ ynpiastri scared of your boyfriend??

↳ username2 THEY’RE SO TALKING ABOUT CARLOS 😭

charles_leclerc Did you call me a little bitch?

↳ ynpiastri you’re literally the only ferrari i like..

↳ username3 she really hates carlos i’m screaming

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Ferrari hospitality was the last place you wanted to be during a Grand Prix, the mere thought of it being the place where Sainz (or as you liked to call him, the little bitch), was most likely to be kept you away from it.

However, Alex told you to meet her there after the Qualifying so you could leave together for dinner. Oscar and Lando already left with the rest of the team, so you had no choice but to wait for your friend.

"Looking for someone, hermosa?" your eyes immediately rolled without even turning around to see who was speaking, the thick Spanish accent that you despised filling your ears.

"Not for you, that's for sure," you said, not even bothering to face him.

"Are you sure? Because this is not the McLaren garage, did your little bro finally kick you out or something?"

"Sainz," you retorted sharply, finally turning to face him, "Shouldn't you be busy making excuses for your next mediocre performance on track?"

"Ah, always so angry, Piastri," he chuckled, unfazed by your hostility, "Maybe you're just frustrated because you're not getting enough attention. I could help with that."

"I don't need or want anything from you," you shot back, your voice laced with irritation.

Carlos leaned casually against a nearby wall, his smirk widening. "Come on, hermosa, you know you've got a temper. Maybe you just need to let off some steam."

Hermosa, the word he used often when he wanted to get to your skin. When you first heard it, you had no idea of what it meant. You were never good at learning Spanish growing up. But after a quick google translation search you found out that it meant beautiful. And for some reason you felt like throwing up.

"Believe me, Sainz, you're the last person I'd ever turn to," you replied icily, folding your arms across your chest, "And don't call me that."

He chuckled again, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You wondered how Lando could be friends with him when he was nothing but an arrogant little bitch, and you cursed Alexandra for taking so long to get her stuff from hospitality.

"I hope you know that you have some serious issues, Sainz," you said, your patience wearing thin as his cocky stare weighted on you.

"Issues? Me?," Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your anger, "I think you're the one with the problem, querida. Like I said, maybe you need to get laid. I could help you with that, your brother won't find out."

Your eyes narrowed, your blood boiled to the point where you could feel your skin burning up. If it wasn't for the all the people around, you swore you could've punched him.

You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I hope your car sets itself on fire so you're not able to race tomorrow."

Carlos's smirk only widened, he was well aware that he got into your skin and he enjoyed every minute of it. Before he could respond, Alex finally appeared, her eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ready to go?" she asked, sensing the tension.

"More than ready," you replied, shooting Carlos one last glare before turning to leave with Alex.

The next day, news spread quickly through the paddock that Carlos' car had suffered a mechanical failure during the warm-up, rendering him unable to compete in the Qatar Grand Prix. Meanwhile, Oscar had won the Sprint and finished P2 in the race.

Karma got that little bitch, you thought to yourself

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynpiastri season over and out. super proud of you, rookie of the year @/oscarpiastri 🥹

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username1 i’m going to miss this season sm

username2 proud sisssss

mclaren One for the books 🧡

username3 thank you for fighting sainz online all season long bestie

landonorris Little Oscar is all grown up now

↳ ynpiastri don’t say that i’ll cry

lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶

username4 highlight of the season was the piastri - sainz beef

↳ username1 not for lando 😭

oscarpiastri Thank you for always supporting me (creating drama online and all) Love you so much ❤️

↳ ynpiastri that’s what big sisters are for

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The end of the 2023 season was a blur of celebrations, laughter, and champagne showers. Oscar had closed off the season as the Rookie of the Year and you couldn't be more proud of him, you were grateful you got to be by his side through it.

And of course, with the end of the season a celebration at Jimmy'z was in order, all drivers, their girlfriends and friends pulling up to Monaco for one last night of partying before the winter break.

You had stuck close to Lando and Oscar for most of the evening, since it was a special occasion, you decided not to hold back with your drinking and have as much fun as you wanted, Lando being your partner in crime as always.

So by 2 a.m, you were pretty drunk, not to the point where you couldn't stand on your own feet, but drunk enough to make a couple of bad decisions.

With that thought on your mind, you decided that it was time to find your brother or best friend and call it a night. But for some reason, both of them were nowhere to be found.

Stumbling through the crowded dance floor, you made your way toward the back of the club, hoping to spot them. The alleyway was dark and you couldn't see a single thing, but they weren't definitely back there.

"Fancy seeing you here, hermosa," a voice behind drawled, almost making you jump.

"What the actual fuck!" you said, holding a hand to your chest.

Of course it was fucking Carlos Sainz, once again

"You scared the hell out of me!" you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, "Do you hide in dark alleyways like a creep all the time?"

"Slow down, hermosa, why are you so angry all the time?" his Spanish accent was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was as tipsy as you were.

"I'm not in the mood for your games tonight," you retorted, trying to brush past him.

"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, blocking your path with an easy grace. "Though you do seem to find me wherever you go."

"Only because you insist on being everywhere I am," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.

"Or maybe you just can't resist my charm," he teased, leaning casually against the wall.

"Charm? Is that what you call it?" you scoffed, "More like arrogance and an inflated ego."

"Arrogance? No. Confidence? Absolutely," he replied with a smirk, "And I think you secretly like it."

"You're delusional," you muttered, feeling the alcohol clouding your judgment. "I can't stand you."

"Is that so?" he said, stepping closer. "Because you seem pretty invested in this conversation for someone who supposedly hates me."

True

"Maybe because you won't let me leave," you said, your voice rising in frustration.

"Or maybe because you've spent the entire season trying to get my attention by being rude to me and blasting me on social media, calling me a little bitch and all."

"I was defending Oscar," you snapped. "You kept messing with him on track. Someone had to call you out."

Carlos shook his head, his cocky smirk even bigger now. "It was never about Oscar, and you know it."

"God, I hate you," you said, ready to walk away but he blocked your way one more time.

"No, you don't," he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. "You just hate that you can't help but get all hot and bothered whenever I'm around."

"You're really are such a little bitch," you spat, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt a strange thrill.

"And you're a firecracker, Piastri. That's what makes this so fun."

"You're so full of yourself," you retorted, but the words lacked their usual bite. The alcohol was making it hard to keep up your defenses, and Carlos's close proximity was doing strange things to your resolve.

"Maybe," he conceded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But I think you like it more than you let on."

Before you could argue back, Carlos took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself unable to pull away.

"You're infuriating," you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"And you," he said, his breath warm against your ear, "are insufferable."

Without another word, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. It was a collision of anger, frustration, and undeniable chemistry, and you couldn't help but respond in kind.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

What the hell was happening?

For a moment, all the animosity, all the bickering, melted away. It was messy, it was intense, and it was everything you hadn't realized you wanted.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you could see the same mix of surprise and desire reflected in Carlos' eyes.

Before either of you could say anything, you were interrupted by Lando's voice calling out your name. You quickly stepped back, putting some distance between you and Carlos as Lando approached, a curious look on his face.

"Everything okay here?" Lando asked, glancing between the two of you.

"Just fine," you replied, giving Carlos a final, challenging look. "Just fine."

Carlos nodded, his smirk returning. "See you around, Piastri."

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texts between lando and yn

texts between carlos and lando

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2024 SEASON

Formula 1 was back and in full swing. And with that your "nepo sister" privileges, which included traveling with Oscar for races came back too.

You were excited for this season, Oscar was no longer a rookie and he had a lot to prove, and you couldn't wait to see him rise to the challenge.

In addition to that, this season was going to be extra interesting, since the news of your least favorite driver on the grid (or at least the one you swore you hated) being replaced by Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari were announced a few weeks prior.

"Did you hear the news?" Oscar asked, making his way to you.

"What news?" you replied, setting down your coffee cup.

"Lewis Hamilton is moving to Ferrari next season," Oscar said, watching your reaction closely.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? So the little bitch is out?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be an interesting season."

Carlos Sainz was both a source of irritation and inexplicable attraction. You had tried to push the memory of that kiss at Jimmy'z to the back of your mind all winter long, but you just couldn't stop thinking about it.

Plus, Lando was firm on his mission of making wither of you confess that apparently you "liked each other", which made ignoring the whole situation even harder.

You just hoped that he would keep it chill this season, not bothering either you or Oscar so you could just pretend he didn't exist.

With that thought on your mind, you made your way back to the hotel. You spent the day exploring around Bahrain with Oscar and Lando, and now you were ready to unwind in your room. The boys deciding to spend a few more hours walking around before heading back.

Once in the lobby, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a familiar hand slipped in, forcing them open.

Carlos Sainz stepped inside, his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say.

"Not going to say hello, querida?" he said after a few seconds of complete silence from you, leaning against the elevator wall.

"Carlos. Still popping up where you're least wanted, I see," you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.

"Missed you too, Piastri," he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand closer you, "How was your break?"

"Great, thanks for asking," you replied coolly. "Did you enjoy yours, planning how to be a pain to other drivers this season too?"

"Is that really how you want to start our first conversation of the season?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, "I though we've left that in the past, specially after what happened at the end of last year."

You tensed at his statement. More than once during the break, you wondered if he remembered what happened that night. He was as drunk was you were, if not more, so you convinced yourself that he had forgotten about it.

"I don't remember much from that night. Must have been the champagne."

Carlos leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Oh, I think you remember perfectly well. Especially the kiss."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you," he said with a chuckle. "But fine, we'll pretend it never happened. For now."

"Good," you replied sharply. "Because I have no intention of discussing it."

"Maybe you're playing dumb because you want me to kiss you again," Carlos teased, making you throw your head back in frustration.

"I'd rather choke on my own spit, little bitch,"

"Ahh, missed hearing that," Carlos said, his tone cocky and satisfied with your frustration. You mentally cursed the elevator for taking so long to get to your fucking floor.

"You know what? I hope you don't find a seat for next season at all. You act like a total peacock when everyone knows you're basically unemployed right now," you spitted out before you could even think twice.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "Low blow, Piastri. Even for you."

You held his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Just stating the obvious."

The elevator finally dinged, announcing your floor, and you stepped out swiftly, eager to end the conversation before it could escalate further.

Carlos Sainz had a way of getting under your skin like no one else, and the season had only just begun.

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username1 ICON IS BACKKKK

username2 nooo we need you to keep dragging sainz

mclaren Our favorite nepo sister 🧡

↳ ynpiastri that’s meeee

username3 yn always gives us lily x oscar content bless her

charles_leclerc What if I need you to fight someone from the grid for me?

↳ ynpiastri you know there’s one person i would gladly drag through the mood

↳ username1 HER HATRED FOR CARLOS LIVES

lilyzneimer love youuu✨

oscarpiastri Cute picture of me and Lily, thank u sis

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↳ ynpiastri you’re so strange sometimes

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It was a sunny day in Melbourne, and the paddock was buzzing with excitement. The Australian Grand Prix was always a favorite, and this year was no exception.

You felt good to be back home, you always felt proud when you saw Oscar on the track, but seeing him racing in your home country was something even more special.

Carlos was also back from his emergency surgery and ready to race again. And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were relieved to see him back and healthy. The news of his appendicitis had shocked you more than you’d expected, and you’d found yourself genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

I'm just being a decent human being, you tried to convince yourself, It would be really scary if that happened to Oscar or Lando.

Walking through the paddock, you looked for a familiar face to hang out with before it was time for the track action to start, spotting Lando's back talking to someone you couldn't quite identify, you decided to approach him.

As you got closer, Lando shifted slightly, revealing the person he was talking to, Carlos.

He looked well, a healthy glow back in his cheeks, his smile easy and relaxed. He was wearing his team gear, the Ferrari red suiting him perfectly. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and despite the casual setting, he looked effortlessly handsome for someone who had a major surgery just two weeks ago.

Your stomach did a little flip. You hated to admit it, but lately your hatred towards Carlos had cooled down. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss, seeing him vulnerable after his surgery or the fact that he had been decent to Oscar so far. You couldn't deny that there was something about him that made you feel… softer.

However, you decided to ignore those thoughts and feelings every time they got to your head, because at the end of the day, there was no way he could ever feel or think the same way. It was better to keep hating each other.

Lando noticed you approaching and gave you a teasing grin. "Hey, YN! Look who’s back from the dead!"

Carlos turned to face you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Hey, Piastri," he greeted with a warm smile. "Back to your home turf, huh?"

"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the flutter in your chest. "It feels good to be back."

Lando gave Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later, mate," he said, winking at you before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.

You stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. Maybe he was still tired from what he had been through, but he didn't show any signs of cockiness or wanting to annoy you this time.

"You look well," you finally said, your voice softer than usual. "I'm glad you're back."

Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I heard you were worried about me."

"Don't let it go to your head," you replied quickly, though the usual bite in your tone was missing. You felt a bit embarrassed that he knew, "I’m just being a decent human being."

"Of course," Carlos said, his voice nonchalant, "Decent human being, sure."

"I’m serious," you insisted, though your voice lacked the usual edge. "But I am glad you’re okay. It must have been scary."

Carlos’s expression softened. "It was. But I had good doctors, and I’m ready to race again. Thanks for worrying."

There was silence again, and you noticed that this was the first time you and Carlos had an interaction that didn't include biting each other's heads off.

It felt nice.

"Well," you said after a minute of silence, "don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you had surgery. You're still on my watch."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Carlos smirked, "But for the record, it’s nice to see you care, even if you won’t admit it."

"Don't push your luck, Sainz," you warned, but there was a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"I wouldn't dare, Piastri."

"I should get going," you said, pointing towards the McLaren hospitality, "Good luck out there."

As you turned to walk away, Carlos's voice stopped you in your tracks.

You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You know, this is the first time you don't call me a little bitch," Carlos said, a small playing on his face.

"What, you miss it already? Does it turn you own?"

"Maybe a little," Carlos chuckled, "Keeps things interesting."

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face.

"Well, good luck out there, little bitch."

You didn't wait to see his reaction, but you knew he was grinning from ear to ear.

Later that day, Carlos crossed the finish line first and won the Australian Grand Prix, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You watched as Carlos celebrated on the podium, spraying champagne with Lando and Charles and holding up the winner's trophy with pride.

You swore you played it cool, but everyone around you noticed the huge smile on your face.

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username1 AUSSIE QUEEN

username2 omfg included a picture of sainz win??

↳ username1 how pissed do you think she was bc he won in australia

↳ username3 i love that she didn’t tag him tho 😭

alexandrasaintmleux Mama piastri >> 🫶

↳ ynpiastri our real queen

lilyzneimer the third pic is my faveeee

username4 surprised that she didn’t blur carlos in the podium pic

landonorris Please don’t make me do a shoey ever again

↳ username2 OMFG I NEED TO SEE THAT

↳ oscarpiastri Aussie traditions mate

↳ ynpiastri cry baby

carlossainz55 started following you

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"You're not my best friend," Lando said, sitting on the plush couch of your hotel room, watching as you put a sweatshirt on, "You've been replaced with an alien or an evil twin, there's no way you're YN Piastri."

"Can you quit being dramatic," you rolled your eyes at him, "It's no big deal."

"You're grabbing sushi with Carlos Sainz," he stressed, moving his hands to emphasize, "You hate Carlos Sainz, it's been an issue for me for the last year because both of you force me to pick sides and I have to make sure you don't kill each other. And now you're suddenly going on dates."

"This is not a date," you protested, "Don't even say that out loud, it's gross."

"Then what is it? Because he asked you out and you said yes, that's literally a date."

You didn't give him a reply right away, hiding behind your your busy hands as you pretended to adjust your sweatshirt.

Truth was, you didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made sense. You couldn't blame Lando for thinking you've been replaced with someone else, because you'd never accept anything from Carlos last year, let alone willingly grab dinner with him.

But here you were, about to head out to meet him.

"I just want free dinner," you shrugged, "And he offered to buy it, so I'm taking advantage of it."

"Sure, free dinner," Lando gave you a skeptical look, crossing his arms, "Because you’ve never had other options for free dinner before, right? Your brother is rich, he could buy you whatever you want."

You huffed, trying to sound annoyed but feeling a bit defensive. "It's just sushi, Lando. Stop making it a big deal."

"You know, it's okay if you like him," he said, his tone genuine. "I mean, I get why you're hesitant, but it's fine to have feelings for someone, even if it's Carlos Sainz."

"Are you out of your mind?" you immediately said, your voice sharper than intended, "We're talking about the little bitch, what on earth makes you think that I could have feelings for him other than disgust and irritation."

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're getting ready to get dinner with him, or that you were on the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was recovering from the surgery, or the time I almost caught you kiss-"

"God, just shut up," you interrupted him, "Oscar would understand. He knows I'm never going to get all lovey-dovey over Carlos."

"Oscar might buy whatever you tell him," Lando raised an eyebrow, "But that doesn't mean you're being honest with yourself. It's not the end of the world to admit you might have a crush."

"I do not have a crush on him," you insisted, your cheeks heating up. "It's just... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Lando pressed, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty straightforward. You’re intrigued by him, he’s intrigued by you, and you both can’t seem to stay away from each other."

You let his words sink in, Lando might be a year younger than you, and often perceived as a carefree guy who didn't have a serious bone in his body. But in reality, he was a very wise person who understood the complexities of situations better than most.

That was one of the reasons why he was your best friend.

"Look, it’s not that simple," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "We have history, and not the good kind. I don't trust him, and I don’t think he trusts me either. We're just… trying to be civil for once."

"That's good," Lando stood up from the couch, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Honestly I was tired of dealing with your constant bickering, if you didn't kiss and make up on your own, I was going to lock you up in a closet until you resolved it."

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username1 BESTIEEEE

username2 THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE

alexandrasaintmleux I just texted you !!!

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

f1gossip 👀

username3 CARLOS SAINZ ???

↳ username1 girl no way they hate each other

↳ username2 he’s in the likes tho 😭

landonorris IM FREEEEE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFEEEE

↳ username1 wtfffff

oscarpiastri Answer my texts right now please

↳ username1 IM SCREAMING

↳ username2 OSCAR 😩

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After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, you and Carlos walked back to the hotel. The sushi had been surprisingly good, and the conversation… surprisingly pleasant.

The bickering between you was still present, but this time it wasn't harsh or spiteful, it was playful and and light-hearted. The tension that usually accompanied your interactions had lessened, and you actually acted friendly towards each other.

"I still can't believe you made me try that weird seaweed thing," you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked.

"You loved it, admit it," Carlos chuckled.

"Maybe a little," you conceded with a small smile, "How did you know this place anyways?"

"I like reading restaurant reviews online," he shrugged, "It's a random hobby of mine, and I'm going to need those in case I don't have a job next year."

You paused, his words sinking in. Carlos joked about it, but you knew the uncertainty of his future in Formula 1 must be horrible. The sport is cutthroat, and the thought of not finding a seat to race must be weighing on him heavily. It made you think about Oscar, and how that could happen to him too.

"I'm sorry for saying that I hope you don't find a seat next season," you blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right, that was low, even for me."

"Are you really apologizing, Piastri?" he teased, "First you cared about my health, now you apologize. What's next? You'll stop calling me a little bitch?"

You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice behind it. "Don't push your luck, Sainz. Just take the apology and run with it."

"Alright, I'll take it," Carlos laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, "You must be praying I stay just so you have an excuse to argue with me, aren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you shot back, grinning. "I can argue with anyone."

"But you like arguing with me the most," he said, his voice softening.

You didn't reply, the truth in his words making your heart race. From the corner of your eye, you saw the satisfied grin on his face.

Soon enough you reached the hotel lobby, and once you walked through the doors you spotted Charles and Alexandra by the reception desk.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Charles called out, drawing the attention of Alex, who looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Just coming back from dinner," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "What are you two up to?"

"We were just about to head up," Alexandra said, linking her arm with Charles's. "How was dinner?"

"Surprisingly good," Carlos said, glancing at you with a smirk.

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "This is new. You two actually getting along?"

"Don't get used to it," you said, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted free dinner."

"Right," Charles said, not convinced. "Well, we're heading up, you coming?"

You all piled into the elevator, the small space filled with a mix of comfortable silence and light conversation. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out, Carlos following close behind.

"Goodnight, guys," Alex called out as the elevator doors closed, giving you a look that screamed 'TEXT ME ASAP'

Carlos walked you to your room, the hallway dimly lit and quiet. As you walked side by side, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sent small shivers down your spine.

"So, the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight was because you wanted free dinner?" Carlos asked once you reached your room.

"Exactly, what else do you think would make me want to spend an evening with you?"

Carlos chuckled, leaning against the wall beside your door. "I don't know, maybe my charming personality and good looks?"

"Charming?" you raised your eyebrows at him, "You're literally the most annoying person I know."

"Likewise, Piastri," Carlos shot back, his smirk widening, "But here we are, aren't we?"

"You really think you're that special, don't you?" you said, rolling your eyes.

"I know I am, querida," Carlos replied, stepping closer. "And you can't get enough of me."

You looked away from him, his stare suddenly becoming overwhelming. He was really close, as close as he was the night you kissed at Jimmy'z, and even thinking about it has your neck crawling away in sweat.

"See? You can't even deny it." Carlos grinned, his eyes locking onto yours again, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer.

"Don't get any ideas," you warned, but your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it.

"I can't help it," he said softly, his face now inches from yours. "You bring out the best in me, Piastri."

"I still hate you," you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned in even closer.

"No, you don't," Carlos whispered back, his lips brushing against yours.

Before you could protest, he closed the distance and kissed you. It was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn't, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense and filled with a raw passion that took your breath away.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you kissed him back, losing yourself in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a small smile playing on Carlos's lips.

"Goodnight, Piastri," he whispered, his voice husky.

Unable to move from your spot, you watched him walk through the corridor and disappear into the elevator doors, your mind still blurry about what happened just seconds ago.

You were fucked.

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TWITTER

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A playlist full of pop classics played as you got ready for Lando's millionth win celebration.

He took the win at the Miami Grand Prix and the next following days were full of partying and champagne. You were beyond happy for him, and willing to put up with his multiple celebrations of his well deserved win.

This time, the setting was not that over the top, just a casual dinner at his place in Monaco with his close friends.

"Can I come in?" you heard after a knock on Oscar's guest bedroom, the place where you stayed when visiting Monaco.

"Sure," you replied, quickly meeting with your brother's figure.

Oscar entered the room, a casual grin on his face. He glanced around before his eyes settled on you. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah," you replied, adjusting an earring. "I hope this is Lando's last celebration, I can't keep up anymore.

"He's definitely on a roll," Oscar chuckled, "You know, Carlos is going to be there."

"I know," you said, looking away from him for a moment and trying to keep your tone nonchalant.

"You do?" Oscar raised a eyebrow.

"He's Lando's best friend, Osc, it's obvious he'll be there."

Oscar nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Right, of course. But you two have been getting close lately, haven't you? You didn't even come for his neck after Miami, and you always do that."

You sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. There was no denying that there was something between you and Carlos, your friends might not know about the times you've kissed, but they definitely noticed the shift in your behavior towards each other.

You found yourself enjoying his company, looking forward to catch a glimpse of him every weekend and craving his touch. You don't know if he feels the same way, but the way he looks at you and finds ways to get you alone tells you he does.

Admitting this to Oscar felt like crossing a line, even though he had always encouraged you to be open about your feelings.

"We're just… getting along better. That's all," you muttered, "And you asked me to behave on social media this season, I'm trying to do that."

"That's bullshit, YN," Oscar shook his head, a teasing smile forming on his lips, "Come on, admit it. Maybe the real reason you didn't attack him this time is because you like him."

"Oscar, we're not having this conversation," you quickly became defensive, "I don't know why everyone insist on something that's far from the truth. I don't like Sainz."

"Sis, it's okay if you like him," Oscar said, his tone gentle but insistent. "You don't have to hide it from me."

You looked away, feeling conflicted. Ever since you first met Carlos, there was something about him that intrigued you, however, you were too caught up in convincing yourself that he would never see you as more than his brand new rival's sister. Things getting worse when his incidents with Oscar on track started and you took that as an opportunity to be reckless to him.

It was a self defense mechanism for your own feelings.

"It's complicated, okay?" you said, feeling vulnerable but knowing you could trust him, "We spent last year coming from each other's necks all the time, but now he's nice to me and I am too, we spend time together, we kiss. But at the same time, I feel like I can't trust him, that he's going to switch to little bitch mode again and I'll end up feeling stupid for potentially catching feelings."

"Holy shit you've kissed!" Oscar said, his eyes widening, "Lando was right all along."

"Oh god, I shouldn't have said anything," you threw your head back in frustration.

"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense, "But It's okay to feel confused. You can talk to me, you know. I'm your brother, and I just want you to be happy. I can tell that this is really bothering you."

You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I just don't know what to do, Osc. One minute I think I might actually like him, and the next I'm terrified of getting hurt."

"Look, I know Carlos can be intense on track, but off track? He's a good guy," Oscar sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "When he's not trying to push me off the track, he's really supportive and a nice guy. There's a reason why Lando adores him. Plus, maybe he's figuring things out too."

You leaned into Oscar's side, grateful for his comforting presence. "Do you really think so?"

"Yeah, I do," Oscar nodded reassuringly. "And you deserve to give yourself a chance at happiness. If Carlos could make you happy, then why not see where it goes?"

"When did you become so wise?" you teased, giving him a small smile, "You're supposed to be my annoying little brother who picks his nose and runs around the house."

"Hey, I can be wise when I want to be," Oscar chuckled, giving you a playful shove, "But don't worry, I'll always be your annoying little brother, nose-picking and all."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. "Thanks, Osc. I needed this."

"Anytime, sis," Oscar said warmly, giving you a quick hug. "Now, come on. Lando is probably drunk already and we haven't made it to his house yet."

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username1 so iconic tbh

username2 EXCUSE ME MISS IS THAT CARLOS SAINZ IN THE LAST PIC ??

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danielricciardo 🙌

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landonorris IM V DRVNK OMG

↳ username3 i love him 😭😭😭😩

username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri the ultimate enemies to lovers lowkey

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You're not sure how it happened, but Carlos' arm laid casually in the back of your chair as you chatted with those around you. His fingers gently brushed your bare shoulder from time to time, his thigh pressed to yours under the table.

Maybe it was the couple glasses of champagne you both had, you're not sure. But you definitely didn't want to move from your spot.

No one dared to say anything about it, but your friends had teasing grins at the sight. You knew you'll have to deal with them later, but you decided to ignore it for the night.

"Alright, I think I'm calling it a night," Oscar said as he got up from his chair, Lando immediately booed, "Are you coming, YN?"

You looked at him with raised eyebrows, you definitely didn't want to leave yet, feeling too comfortable in Carlos' presence. In addition to that, you haven't had a chance to get him alone, and that was enough to not want the night to end.

After a minute of silence from you, Carlos spoke up, "I can give her a ride home if she doesn't want to leave yet," he offered, his voice smooth and nonchalant.

"Oh, a private chauffeur service now, Carlos? How fancy," Max teased from across the table, making the entire group laugh.

Oscar hesitated, glancing between you and Carlos, his protective instincts kicking in. "Are you okay with that, YN?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with it," you met Oscar's eyes and nodded, "Or I can just crash here, Lando is too drunk to notice anyway, don't want to cause much trouble."

"It's really no trouble," he insisted, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder. "I'll make sure you get home safely."

Oscar seemed to relax a bit, though you could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Alright then. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Osc," you replied, standing up and giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."

As Oscar left, the group continued to tease and laugh. You always enjoyed when the drivers were in a casual setting like this one, where they could forget about competition and teams and just hang out and have fun.

You stayed glued to Carlos the entire time, getting even closer as the night went on, you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, so you laid your head on his shoulder.

"You're falling asleep on me, hermosa," Carlos whispered to you, not moving your head from its place.

"I'm not," you protested, but at the same time you did a yawn escaped your mouth, which made Carlos laugh.

"Come on let's get you home," Carlos offered you his hand.

You took Carlos' hand, not even thinking twice about it. As you both stood to leave, your friends couldn't resist one last round of teasing.

"No funny business, Carlos," Charles called out, grinning widely. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "We have Oscar on speed dial."

"Yeah, don't make me come after you, that's also my sister," Lando added, too drunk to even make sense.

You laughed, waving goodbye to everyone as you and Carlos made your way out. The cool night air was refreshing as you walked to his car, your hand still in his.

The drive to Oscar's place was quiet but comfortable. Carlos kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close to you. You found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the streetlights played over his features.

At one point, Carlos glanced over and caught you staring. "You're staring," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

You felt your cheeks heat up but didn't look away. "Maybe I am," you replied, a teasing edge in your voice. "You have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Piastri. Not at all."

When you arrived at Oscar's place, Carlos parked the car but you made no move to get out. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

"Are you ready to stop pretending we hate each other?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. "Because I am."

His words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't playing around or teasing you. He was being real and serious.

You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Yeah, I am."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the way his kiss made you feel.

Carlos' other hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pressed you closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on as if letting go meant losing this moment forever.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Carlos' eyes searched yours, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"But… I'm not ready to stop calling you a little bitch, though."

[gilverrwrites]

I love imaging Dick, Tim, and Damian sneaking around trying to meet Jasons new gf because they just wanna be involved in his life and they know if they they leave it to Jay they wont meet her u til they're married with kids 😭

AND ‘omg us meeting Jason’s siblings when’

AN: Ngl I love this idea too, its so shitty of them but they have the best of intentions.

Damian

A boy no older than 14 with eyes that pierce the soul was not what you'd expected to find on Jason's couch the very first time he'd left you alone there. Jason had to dip out unexpectedly early, and had promised you run of the place until he got back so you'd slept in as long as you could and were on your way to make breakfast when you're greeted by the hell-child.

Once your initial fright wears off you realise you recognize him from a photo Jay had showed you which makes you feel slightly more at ease.

“Good morning? Damian right?” You offer as you pass him, be-lining for the coffee machine, you're gonna need caffeine if you're meeting any member of Jay's family for the first time. “Can I get you anything?”

“Alfred says it's unbecoming to sleep past 9.” Besides the initial glare he'd graced you with as you emerged from the bedroom, he doesn't even look up at you, his eyes glued to the pages of a book. Like brother like brother, you guess.

“Oh, well. Good thing Alfreds not here then.” You add a small laugh, trying to inject some humour to the situation. Damian does not respond in kind. “Is that a no? I think there's some chocolate cereal around here somewhere.”

“What do you do for work that allows you to be in my brother's home in the middle of the day?”

Jeez this kid is no-nonsense. “Or I could make pancakes, I make really good pancakes.”

“And tell me what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Baby?

“I think there's some chocolate chips around here somewhere. Jason says you like chocolate. Chocolate pancakes?”

“Do you always avoid questions?”

“Are you always so intense?”

He slams the book closed and you nearly jump on the spot. He finally looks at you, really looks at you and as you stare back his features begin to soften slightly.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

You're certain from the sly look on his face that he's probably not allowed coffee. He certainly doesn't need any. But screw it, he's not your kid and if it gets him to like a little, you'll take the risk.

So you pour two coffees and join him on the couch. His questions do not cease until Jason returns about an hour later. He couldn't care less about the coffee, but he does care about Damian breaking in to interrogate his partner and immediately kicks Damian out.

Dick

Dick finds out about your existence from one of Damian’s letters, and he's subtle but pushy about meeting you. Not that you're aware. He keeps ‘dropping by’ Jason's apartment ‘just to see his lil brother’, no other reason but is told to get lost or downright ignored anytime you're there, until he decides to cut out the middle man and turn up at your home instead.

“Let me tell you, you are a hard person to get a hold of.” He informs as he invites himself through your front door.

“Um, hello Dick?” As you stare at his lush hair and sculpted abs you wonder what Alfred feeds these boys.

“Yep! I can't stay so I’ve gotta make this quick.” he gestures for you to come closer, speaking in a playful, conspiratorial whisper. “Jay doesn't know I'm here.”

That would be why he can't stay, Jason is due at your door any minute now.

“But you two seem to be getting pretty serious and I think it's important that we all get to know each other. You following?”

You nod, and he gives you the perkiest, most genuine smile. That or he has that exact look practised to a T. From what Jay tells you, either is possible.

“So, Barbara and I, that's my wife” You nod once more, you're aware of Barbara also. “have booked a table at Casa Gotica for Thursday night. We need you to get Jason there without letting on that it's a double date.”

“I don’t know.” you finally give your nodding head a break. “Jay and I don’t lie to each other.”

“Right. I can't begrudge that. Very glad to hear he's picked an honest one.” He takes a moment to straighten his thoughts, but his moment is cut short but the echo of Jason’s combat boots approaching your door. Dick’s eyes rapidly scan the room for a secondary exit before he settles on an open window. “Don't think of it as lying, think of it as omitting the truth. Whatever you have to do just be there for 6.30. Oh, and it's great to meet you!”

“You too.”

“Thursday, 6.30!”

Before you can agree he’s gone, presumably scaling the side of your building as Jay steps inside.

Tim

Tim was actually the first to be aware of you and your relationship with his brother, however, the very real possibility of being gutted by Jason for snooping in his personal life was too high for him to make a move.

But you seeking him out is a different story; or rather, you being the first to say hi when you bump into each other in line at the grocery store is different. It would be rude not to respond to your attempts at initiating a conversation.

“Hello, hi, are you Tim? You don't know me but I’m Jasons partner. Its so great to meet you.”

“I know who you are.” He states rather ominously, eyes darting around behind you. “Is he here?”

“No, but he's picking me up after.” His shoulders visibly ease.

“Cool cool cool.” He’s suddenly much more personable. “So, I hear you're into…”

That chatting doesn't dry or lul at all as the queue dwindles and both buy your groceries. He waits with you until you get confirmation from Jay that he's on his way. He's easily the chillest sibling you've met thus far.

When Jason arrives he gets out of the car to open the boot and passenger door for you as always, but not before he thrusts his phone in your face. “Where is he?”

Displayed on the screen is a selfie of Tim with you in the background, you absolutely do not remember it being taken.

[caotictimmy]

if you're doing mouthwashing can i have daisuke x reader hcs plz... just pretend the tulpar never crashed i want him to be happy hjdkjkdsjg

OMG ANON…you get me. Daisuke has me in a CHOKEHOLD. Ok so here are how the headcanons are gonna go. Pre dating/confession. Dating and NSFW. I had another anon ask me to do NSFW head canons with daisuke. So why not kill two birds with one stone. The regular head canon r gonna be Gn. But the NSFW are gonna have some AFAB stuff. Still can kinda be read as Gn.

Crushing - Confession

- I believe Daisuke crushing on you would be a very, you fell first, but he fell harder kinda thing.

- I think that because Daisuke can be well.. a bit dense (still love him though). That he’s not really gonna pick up on any hints or flirting. So you kinda of have to wait till he realizes he likes you.

- When he does realize he likes you is probably when you were sticking up for him against Swansea(I love you Swansea but you still were mean to Daisuke🙁).

- It’s gonna be easy to tell when he likes you. This man is gonna be so obvious😭🙏

- We all know he’s eager to please right? He’s doing this with you 2 times more. Always asking if you needed anything, he’d be right on it.

-Little things to. I’m talking some laying his shirt over a puddle for you to step on. I feel like he tries to woe you with these gestures.(and it works)

- Daisuke loves listening to your voice. No matter how your voice sounds. He’ll go out of his ways to find you to ramble on about something. He thinks you look and sound cute rambling. o(^w^)o

- Also I think he just likes looking at you. There have been MANY times where Swansea has smacked Daisuke in the back of the head, cause he got sidetrack staring at you with this very lovesick grin. Staring like you personally hung the stars for him.

- Daisuke would be a bit too nervous to think of confessing first. So Swansea would definitely be pushing him to confess. He’s tired of seeing you two ogling at each other and doing nothing about it😒.

- Our sly little man some how convinced Curly to make a cake for him to give you. (I swear on my life curly is a die hard romantic but I’m saving that for when I do headcanons on him later)

- I feel like Daisuke would sneak in your room. Waiting for you to enter. When you do he lifts up the cake in his hands, “ Imadeyouthiscakewillyoudateme” He rambled out. Being scared you would say no.

- But when you say yes. I’m not kidding he shouted “WHOO HOO!!!”. It was very funny. Daisuke would quickly put the cake down and rush to hug you,

Dating

- I feel like the affection he likes to receive is words of affection and physical contact. And for what he usually gives. Acts of service and physical affection. Let me explain

-(Daisuke receiving) It’s a bit obvious that Daisuke probably hasn’t gotten a lot of praise in his life. So I believe that he absolutely melts when you give him these encouraging words. It can range from a lot. From a small, “good job” to a “I love you so much, no matter what.”. It makes him so happy like you don’t even understand.

-(Daisuke receiving) Idk it’s just a an itch in my brain telling me. I think he likes all kinds of physical affection. From holding his pinky, to wrapping you arms and legs around him cuddling. If it insures some sort of touching he’s down. I also think he like resting his head on either your thighs, or chest. Resting his eyes. PLEASE scratch his head or tangle your fingers through his hair. He loves it so much. Like it calms him down so much.

-(Daisuke giving) You can’t tell me this man isn’t at least a bit clingy. Not in a “if you talk to someone else I’ll kill them” type of way but a “ you make me feel safe and secure” kind of way. Does that make sense? Anyways, he loves flopping onto you when he sees you laying down. Like I’m talking full rag doll flop. I fully believe he brought a stuff animal on the ship. So he fully treats you like a stuff animal. Quick random switch. I don’t think he likes being the small spoon. Only because I feel like he needs to sleep holding something. I don’t think he would mind being big spoon. But overall he prefers you two facing each other.

-(Daisuke giving) We all know he has a knack for trying to be as helpful as he can. We can see that when he tried to fix the vent! To trying to crawl up it to save Anya… guys I can’t do this anymore. ANYWAYS. This man does not want you to lift a FINGER. He is so head over heels inlove with you. He’ll do anything for you. He’ll ask him to bring you a star and he’d ask which one. LIKE HE LOVES YOU SM AND JUST WANTS TO SEE YOU HAPPY.

- He loves kissing. Receiving and giving. From a simple peck, to kissing your face all over. He just loves it so much. He finds it so romantic. Listen hear me out. Non sexual neck kissing. He could be waking up before you(highly unlikely). Softly kissing your neck to wake you up. Just soft and sweet.

- Late night talks are a must with him. It could be about anything really. From what plot twist you guys thought would happen on the shitty soap opera you guys were watching. What ifs, what your guys future would look like, what you guys would be if you were animals. The topics you guys talk about are far and wide. But he enjoys the comfort of being by you.

- You can’t tell me this man isn’t a big back. Daisuke definitely brought a bunch of snacks with him. So he will happily share with you. He is a very giving person. But also expect to get your food stolen sometimes.. make sure you get extra food in your plate to give him the rest. He would appreciate it a lot!!!!!:3

- He also really loves spending anytime he can with you. Especially if it involves games. Let me tell you. YOU DO NOT WANNA PLAY DRESS TO IMPRESS WITH THIS MAN. He would cook you so hard in the game it’s not even funny. He’s literally in the top 10 players in dress to impress.

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- Praise kink. YOU GUYS CANT TELL ME I’M WRONG. You guys could water board me. Scream at me that I’m wrong. Every time you praise him when y’all are getting freaky. Busting. Like it gets him going SO HARD (pun intended) Like omg… Especially if you praise his efforts/ how good he’s doing. Pray that you’ll be able to walk after.

- This man is LOUD…… grunting, whimpering, moaning, panting. Any noise you can think of hes made it. Like he doesn’t even think of suppressing his noises. He also doesn’t want you to either! He loves hearing you. He thinks the louder you are = the better he’s doing. So please don’t suppress your noises he’ll get so sad:(. But back to the topic. This man needs something to muffle him. Wether that be kissing you, or lightly nibbling your neck. When he starts to get to loud you need to find a way to shut him up.

-Speaking of loud Swansea has definitely caught you guys once’s. Y’all were a bit to loud and he was wonder what was going on and… Let’s just say he wasn’t able to look at you guys for a bit. But after he gave Daisuke a fist bump. Man to man🗣️🗣️🗣️

- Daisuke is willing to try almost everything. I full heartedly believe this man is a virgin. The furthest he’s ever gone is making out. So he’s eager to learn! He was a bit nervous your guys first time. But after a bit that nervousness dissolved into eagerness! I don’t think he’d be into hurting you badly. And I don’t think he likes pain that much either. But I think he would like his hair being pulled. Or maybe you lightly scratching his back.

- I think he would be open to having sex not just in your rooms. Either in random room barely used. Or a couple of times on the couch when everyone was in their sleeping quarters. Thankfully you guys weren’t caught!!! But Curly was wondering what that clear sticky substances was on the couch…

-(AFAB) Munch no question asked. LISTEN WHEN I SAW HE WANTED AN EXTRA PACK OF SWEETENER I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT BIG BACK MUNCH BEHAVIOR. Also because this man loves to please. DO YALL SEE ME VISION. This man who’ll slurp it up like no tomorrow. His favorite made is your pleasure is his pleasure. But omg like he gets so into eating you out it’s not even funny… You have to pry his face away from your core. And he looks so hot. His hair a mess. His eyes dazed but still has that love in them. And your juice all over his face like…

- He doesn’t have a favorite position. He likes way too many. And when you asked him what position he liked the most, he only responded with, “how can I pick a favorite when there all so good, and what about the ones we haven’t tried yet!” Safe to say you guys went to go try some more positions 😜

- I know I’ve been doing really freaky headcanons but I think Daisuke loves soft sex and morning sexy to. Maybe the morning after a bad day HES still feeling bad. You both are still groggy but you have time before you have to get up. Hell sink himself into. Before thrusting as his arms are wrapped around your waist. His hot breath on your neck, as he trailed kisses all along it. Just because he can be a freak doesn’t mean he can’t be really soft either.

- Daisuke loves cock warming. Try. Try to prove me wrong. He loves cuddling. He loves being as close to you as possible. What’s better than combining the two! But after a bit he does get a bit impatient and starts to subtly thrust. He really is trying to not to be you feel to good!

Authors note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I STARTED THIS WHEN I GOT HOME AND FELL ASLEEP MID WAY THROUGH WRITING THIS. Again sorry for request being slow I’m trying my best😭🙏

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

���-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[martiniluvr]

I just cannot get over the thought of Jason Todd cooing while you take his massive cock, talking you through the pain of stretching you out on it the first time, and giggling at each other from euphoria because of just how much love there is between you two AHHHH 😭

this ask is so good I had to let it marinate in my mind…anon take these flowers I beg 💐

18+ minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

“jay…” you say apprehensively, trailing off as you bite your lip. your eyes are fixed on jason todd’s huge body hovering above you, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. you look down anxiously at his hard cock resting right below your bellybutton and smearing your skin with precum, and instantly avert your gaze. fuck, that’s big.

“I don’t—um…I don’t think it’s…” you trail off, your cheeks burning. despite your nerves, you feel your arousal drooling out of you. he smiles and shakes his head lightly, reaching down to run his fingers over your entrance.

“don’t worry ‘bout that,” he coos, collecting your wetness on his fingertips as you shudder. “look at me, ma.” you tear yourself away from the sight of his length, meeting his stare. “that’s right. just keep lookin’ at me. you’re gonna be fine.”

his hand comes down to pump his cock, spreading your slick onto his shaft as he aligns himself between your legs. after a pause, he sinks the tip in, and you suck in a sharp breath at the stinging in your walls as he penetrates you. he pauses halfway to allow you to adjust to his girth, his brows furrowing at your tightness. shit, you feel good around him. you let out a whine at the unfamiliar feeling of his size, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“fuck…you’re doin’ good, ma,” he says, the muscles between his shoulder blades tensing. “c’mon, princess, just relax for me. worst part’s almost over, hmm? just a little more.” his words are strained with need; he’s holding himself back from fucking you like he wants to, the way a pretty cunt like yours deserves to be used. soon, he tells himself. soon.

“ready?” he asks, his green eyes searching yours. you nod anxiously, and he bottoms out inside you with a groan. you gasp at the flash of pain as he stretches you, right as jason’s hand comes up to caress your cheek. he looks down at your expression, with your eyes screwed shut and your lower lip trapped between your teeth, and lets out a soft laugh. god, you’re pretty.

“hey, eyes on me, ma,” he rasps gently. you pry your eyelids open to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “that’s right, baby. fuck—doin’ so good.” he rocks his hips gently, and you let out a quiet moan despite the ache. “so fuckin’ good for me.” he thrusts again, a little deeper this time, and you notice the stinging is starting to subside, pleasure gradually taking its place. you moan again, louder this time.

“startin’ to feel it, huh, baby?” he murmurs, his eyes glancing down at your stretched pussy taking him in. heat pools in your chest as you hum in agreement, a sheepish giggle escaping you when jason’s eyes lock back onto yours. he chuckles in return, before planting a longing kiss on your lips as his hips continue to rock slowly.

you whine into him, wrapping your legs around his waist to signal that you’re ready for more; he smiles against your lips as his arm snakes around your back, locking your body against his. oh, you poor thing. you have no idea what you’re in for.

[thejujvtsupost]

It’s Always Been You

🍎F!reader, pet names: (pip/squeak, my girl, sweetheart,) suggestive but not smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief miscommunication and lots of groveling but it works out.🍎

Notes: I struggle with editing. This is totally separate from canon bc I’m heartbroken. It’s also my first lads fic, I’ll ALWAYS be a Sylus girlie but Caleb broke my brain for a minute 😭

Poll for a possible part 2 -> Taglist signup for part 2

Caleb joining the DAA wasn’t the problem at hand…No, it was the fact that you were going to be separated. Spending his last night before he leaves wrapped around each other like you always did when things were tough was the best comfort you could get.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, do you really have to go?” This was going to be the longest you’ve ever been apart since you were kids, and even worse, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone.

This wasn’t any easier on him but he couldn’t just back out. “I’ll be home before you know it, don’t worry too much.” Caleb brushed the hair from your eyes and held you closer, “plus, you get to have six months free of my constant nagging.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say, the tears you were holding back finally fell. Your hands that were originally wrapped around his waist were now at his chest, between your bodies and fisted tightly in his shirt. “But I love you and your nagging!” You inhaled like you were suffocating. Perhaps you were, under the weight of his impending absence.

“Shh I know, I love you and being a pain in your ass.” That earned him a wet chuckle. “I swear, as soon as I’m home I’ll fulfill my promise and I won’t leave your side. You’ll never have to worry again, about anything.” A soft kiss to your temple solidified his vow.

It took you a few long moments before you were able to get in a proper breath and process what he said. “You made a promise?”

“Don’t remember? Hm that won’t do. Think back to when you were 18, and that boy you had a crush on rejected you and broke your heart.”

“I’d prefer not to remember that, actually.”

“But remember after? When you still hadn’t come home by dinner and I found you alone at the park?” Large hands ran down the length of your back to help soothe you while he spoke.

You’re still lost but it’s coming back to you. Confessing to your crush in the park was supposed to be perfect— except he not only rejected you, but he made fun of you. You could respect rejection, but the way he humiliated you and made a scene wasn’t something you wanted to think about. “That day was awful.”

“You were so upset. I wanted to beat him to a pulp but you didn’t want to be alone. Remember what I told you? The pinky promise we made? It’s only been four years you know, I’d hope your memory isn’t that bad yet.”

The moment flooded you then with a gasp, ‘You’ll never be alone as long as I live sweetheart, and when it’s time, when I finally graduate and become a pilot, I swear I’ll marry you myself to prove it.’ And at the time it made you giggle, because surely he was just joking to cheer you up, right? “You meant it?”

Caleb chuckled and lifted your chin to look at you directly, “of course I did, it’s always been you and me. Don’t you know that?”

A fresh wave of tears formed as you surged forward to meet his lips with yours- and stopped out of embarrassment before you could make contact. “Sorry, I didn’t- I think I’m just being emotional—”

But the space between you closed once again and before you could overthink it, Caleb was kissing you the way he’s wanted to for years. His lips were all consuming and tender. His palm cupped your face like it was glass and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through his hair. Kissing Caleb felt like home, like everything was right.

He tried to break away to bring you both air but you refused to let him, instead pulling him closer and closer until he was on top of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his size. “Slow- slow down, you still need oxygen.” You shook when he started dragging his kisses down your throat, letting out soft moans when gentle sucks were left behind.

“C-Caleb…”

He pulled back and grew tense as if he was afraid he scared you away, “what’s wrong, you tired?” He was trying to give you an out if you wanted it.

You were certain your cheeks were flushed, you shook your head. “I want… more…”

Caleb groaned and buried his face in your neck “you’re killing me, Pip.”

Had you said something wrong? “Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’ll just-” you loosened your arms from around him, thinking you somehow embarrassed yourself yet again.

He stopped you. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re killing me because you have no idea how badly I want you; how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Really?” Having someone like Caleb love you was the best feeling, but him being attracted to you left you wanting him even more.

Deciding to just show you, he ground his hips into yours. And god, it felt good against you. Just that little bit of contact felt better than anything you ever achieved on your own. “You’re-” hard went unsaid. He grunted when you spread your legs wider for him. “Yeah, I am. And if you want me, then you have me. But you can’t take it back, so if you’re not ready for that commitment…”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“This really isn’t the time for that—”

“Shut up, it’s important.” He sighed and let you continue. Your arms dropped from his neck to hold his face in your hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face. “That guy I had a crush on? I only liked him so much because he reminded me of you. So I’m yours, too. If you want me, then you can take me.”

Words were lost on him so actions took hold, “are you sure?” His kisses resumed their path after meeting your lips, the room grew hotter with each new brush against your skin.

“I trust you, Caleb,” you had no idea your neck was so sensitive, your gasps talking for you. “but I should let you know I’ve never done this before.”

“I’d kill anyone who ever touched you if you had”

“Isn’t that hypocritical? Should I hunt down your past lovers?” You worked his shirt over his head, the dog tag necklace you gave him mere hours ago dangled in front of your face.

He chuckled and discarded your top, your sleep shorts were next. “It’s funny how you think I’d ever want someone that isn’t you.” His revelation hit you full force: he loves you so deeply, there’s truly no doubt to have. “I’d never do this with anyone else.”

Two things happened that night: your bond was solidified, and unbeknownst to you, a life was created

The goodbye was brutal the next day, already missing him terribly before night fell again.

You managed to fall into a routine, though. You would go to work, occasionally spend time with friends— Tara spent the night with you at least once a week to keep your mind off of things; and the days she didn’t you laid in bed desperately wishing he would be by your side.

Your routine was solid, until a month into your separation when you were sick almost every single day. You were fed up by the time a week passed and the day after that you made your way to visit Zayne- who congratulated you because in his words, ‘he and his wife were expecting as well, perhaps they’ll be friends, too.’ Finding out you were pregnant without Caleb with you was difficult, there wasn’t a way to reach him and share the news.

But you weren’t alone anymore. You spent the time you felt lonely talking to your baby now, who definitely couldn’t hear you yet but that didn’t matter. You were kept company with a perfect blend of you and your Caleb.

According to the official statement released last week Caleb would be home any time today, any minute, any second.

The anticipation left butterflies in your tummy, your baby moving with your nerves. It didn’t occur to you that he might not be happy to be a father, that you might’ve been presumptuous that he’d be ready to care for another life so soon.

And when the door flew open, as much as you wanted to jump into his arms (carefully, of course,) you held your breath and waited for him to notice. And of course, because he was your Caleb, it was right away. His happiness and relief fell away to shock and— was that anger? You didn’t expect anger…

“Welcome home, I—”

“Who else has been here?”

“What? I mean Tara has been keeping me company a few times a week but that’s it.”

“What man has been in our home, pipsqueak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, just a demand. He’s never been so terse with you…

His tone made you anxious, “No one, other than Zayne and his wife for dinner occasionally— Caleb what are you talking about?”

Caleb dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, still not moving from his spot. “I’m talking about the fact that I came home after six months and you didn’t seem to miss me at all, nothing like the way I missed you. How else would you be pregnant? So who is he? Someone from the Hunters Association?”

Oh… he thought… “Oh my god how could you think- I’d never cheat on you Caleb— EVER how could you even think—”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t have knocked you up in the time I’ve been away.”

A knife cut through you at his words, the accusation, the betrayal of thinking you’d ever be with anyone else. And how vulgar it was… Did your first time mean so little? Was it something he just wanted to get out of the way before he left? A sob escaped you, tears spilled over. “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”

His eyes went wide, “I’m the asshole here?”

“Yes! You’re a fucking asshole! I expected you to be shocked but accusing me of cheating on you? Thinking that night was nothing? That’s low. I can’t believe you!”

“That night means everything to me!”

“Ask me how far along I am! Go on, fucking ask!”

That stopped him short, “you mean?”

“SIX MONTHS!” Standing there while he dropped to his knees was barely satisfying. “God I can’t stand you right now! You must’ve lost your damn mind and all your common sense!”

His silence was angering you further, stomping off to the kitchen for a drink of water and trying to calm down was a better use of your time; crying from this much stress wasn’t good for you.

Once he gathered himself he followed you, “Sweetheart… you’re telling me that night…”

“Finally used your brain, did you?”

“I’m so, god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His hand reached out to bring you in for a hug but you denied him.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” His audacity made you seethe. No way were you going to give in so easily no matter how much you desired to be in his embrace and reassured.

“Sweetheart—”

“You’re sleeping on the couch. We can decide what to do later.”

His emotions began to overflow, the guilt crushing him; the ring in his pocket practically burning into his flesh. “Decide what?”

“Decide if I should even let you stay.” Your throat felt tight but you continued to hold your sobs back. “Your dinner is in the oven by the way, it’s your favorite so I suggest you don’t let it burn.”

A few hours rolled around before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore hearing your sniffles. You hadn’t eaten dinner, who knows if you had any water, and no matter how (rightfully) mad you were, you still needed to eat.

Grabbing a few of your favorite snacks with a glass of juice instead of the untouched dinner he put in the fridge was his safest option, unsure if seeing the meal would upset you further.

“Pip squeak? I know you’re awake.” Crouching by your side of the bed and setting the snacks on the nightstand, “please talk to me?”

“Go away.”

“You know I can’t do that, you have to eat something.”

You poked your head from the blanket, “oh so you care now that you know it’s yours?”

The jab was deserved but it still earned a wince. “I’d still care even if they weren’t.”

“How noble of you. Sticking around to raise a kid that’s not yours before I even have a ring.”

“Who said I didn’t have a ring?” This time you accepted the comfort of his hand brushing your hair behind your ear and gently cupping your cheek.

Curiosity was a bitch, but you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. “You were really mean.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else but I didn’t expect to come home to a family either— and I’m beyond happy to be a dad. It’s not an excuse though, never okay to talk to you like that.”

A few leftover sniffles came before he pulled a tissue from the box on your nightstand, opting to dry your tears himself. “Blow,” He said, holding the tissue to help you blow your nose; then offering you the straw of the juice so you could hydrate.

“I missed you so much, I thought you’d still be happy to see me.”

“I’m over the moon, actually. But I hurt my girl, gotta make things right. Think you can forgive me? I’ll earn it forever.”

“Caleb if you ever, I mean ever, speak to me like that again I won’t hesitate to let you talk to the front door. You’ll be out.”

“I’ll cut my tongue out myself.”

“So dramatic as always.” You rolled your eyes, “you mentioned a ring?”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “there’s my girl. You sure you still want it? Or should I earn it first?” He dug into his pants pocket to show you anyway.

“It wouldn’t hurt your efforts.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle fully before presenting the velvet box to you, “I’m pretty close to the ground but if you sit up for me I’ll get on one knee.”

Sitting up to stretch was good for your back anyway, “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

The velvet box opened and your jaw dropped, “picked it out in Skyhaven. Gideon and I helped the elderly owner of a small shop with some boxes he was struggling with in front of his door. Knew it was perfect right away, gorgeous and one of a kind like you.”

“You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” He slid it on your finger and sealed it with a kiss, and you fell into his arms like you’ve wanted to for the last six months.

Pulling away after many minutes of hugs, ‘I love you’s’ and kisses wasn’t welcomed by you. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner? I don’t think snacks are enough, they were backup. Gotta keep you healthy.”

“Did you like it?”

You were pulled to your feet and carried out of the room. “Didn’t eat without you, sweetheart. Having dinner without you and the baby felt empty.”

“Good. You can reheat it then.” You waited for the perfect moment to drop your bombshell, which happened to be when he was carrying a full glass pitcher of water for the table. “We’re having a daughter, by the way.”

The pitcher fell so fast his evol barely managed to catch it before glass hit the ground. It left you feeling smug.

You couldn’t help but cackle at his shocked spluttering, “A WHAT?”

I’m so flattered, I’ve never had so many people interested or had a taglist this long: @pixelcafe-network @kentochronicles @sashisuslover @lunia-likes-pomegranet @elli4ever @mysssticc @kaemaybae @kamisatoaiko @midiplier @jamseashell @llamabois @boba14 @crimsonspring @angrychinchillanoises @ali-shiii @kazbae95 @ifistoptherain @c-I-stinnett @nephelesthoughts @etherealzi @jjoppees @keithkoganeirl

Click here to be added to the taglist for part 2

All divider credits to me @thecutestgrotto

[beloveds-embrace]

AND ALSO POLY!141

joking around and calling them your brothers and they go deathly silent because what do you mean tou don’t see them romantically? doesn’t matter if they’re already involved with each other they want you to be just as involved too.

also this is toxic but threatening your various dates, stalking them and taking them out (not in the romantic way) so they have an excuse to hold you close. you get comforted, and they get to embrace your warmth #win-win

Friendzoned? Nah, it’s bro-zoned now 😭

The one good thing about grueling and long missions- were the post-missions.

Without fail, each time, you’d be invited to their house where Price would grill up something delicious and juicy on the barbecue, and everyone would be able to unwind. You enjoyed that time, spending it and relaxing with them.

The dynamic you all shared was easy, comfortable, and fun- at least for you.

You rolled your eyes and tossed a fry at Johnny, who caught it in his mouth with a proud grin and wagged his eyebrows, daring you to try again. “You’re like an annoying big brother, you know that?” you huffed at last, a matching grin on your face.

Johnny froze mid-chew, but you didn’t notice, too busy thinking. “Actually… all of you are like annoying big brothers, now that I think about it.”

You chuckles at your own thought, grabbing another fry from your plate and popping it into your mouth without once realizing the shift in the atmosphere. You didn’t catch the way Soap’s grin had vanished completely or how Price’s hand tightened around the armrest of his chair. Gaz’s usual easy smile was gone, replaced with a cold, unreadable expression, and Ghost… well, Ghost’s dark stare had become a touch more menacing.

The silence hung heavy, but you were blissfully unaware, waving your hand dismissively when no one responded. Your focus was on your phone, scrolling through your social medias. “What? You all went quiet on me.”

Soap cleared his throat, but it came out strained, his voice low. “Brother, huh?”

You hummed absently. “Yeah, you know- family. You guys are my family. Like brothers, watching each other’s backs and all that.”

Price exhaled slowly, sitting back in his chair and running a hand over his beard. “Family.” He repeated, almost under his breath, his voice calm but tight.

Gaz tapped his fingers against the table once, then twice, before stopping abruptly. “Is that all we are to you?” he asked casually enough, though his tone carried an edge you didn’t catch.

“Of course,” you replied with a shrug, not bothering to look up from your food and phone. “I mean, it’d be weird to think of you any other way. You’re my team, my brothers-in-arms.”

You missed the way Ghost’s hands curled into fists on the table, his knuckles white, or the way Soap’s jaw clenched, demeanor replaced with something far darker. Price exchanged a look with Gaz, silent communication passing between them while you obliviously chewed on your steak, still oblivious to the storm brewing around you.

If you’d glanced up, even for a second, you might’ve noticed the way their gazes lingered on you- too intense, too sharp. But you didn’t. And they weren’t about to correct you.

Not yet, anyways.

The first time it happened, you didn’t connect the dots.

Your date, some charming guy you met at a café off base, canceled on you last minute, claiming he “didn’t feel safe” after someone left a threatening note on his car windshield. You shrugged it off as a weird coincidence- maybe it was the universe looking out for you, even. You didn’t want to be dragged into whatever that guy was stuck in.

The second time, a woman from the gym you’d been chatting with stopped replying to your texts entirely after she mentioned being followed home one night. You’d honestly tried to call and check on her, but she just… blocked you. Weird.

By the third time, when a guy you’d met on a dating app ghosted you entirely after his apartment was mysteriously broken into, you started to suspect something was up.

You mentioned it offhandedly to the team one evening, voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t know what’s going on, but every time I try to date someone, something weird happens. It’s like the universe doesn’t want me to find someone!”

Soap hummed, a little too casually, but you simply discarded that thought. “Maybe the universe knows what’s best for you, bonnie.”

Gaz leaned back in his chair, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Or maybe these people weren’t good enough for you anyway.”

“You’ve got us to look after you. Don’t need anyone else mucking things up.” Even Price added in his own two cents, making you pause.

You laughed, thinking they were joking, but Ghost’s silence was unsettling- actually, none of them were laughing. He just stared at you, his eyes glinting in a way that made your stomach twist. But that was normal for your L.T… even if it’s been quite a long while since he’s made you feel like that.

The fourth time, it wasn’t just a weird incident. It was a full-on assault.

You were on another date- though even you had to admit this one was just… not going well. He was too dismissive, too loud, and the first thing he’d said before you even sat down was that you’d split the bill, and then he made a comment about you eating too much.

You’d sent a simple text to the team groupchat, telling them you really weren’t enjoying this one, and they’d left you on read. Bastards.

But then you date had been walking you to your car when someone stepped out of the shadows- a big, familiar hulking figure in a balaclava. Your date didn’t even have time to react before they were on the ground, unconscious.

“Come on,” Simon said, gently but firmly clasping his hand around yours. You were too shocked to even say anything- what the fuck? “Let’s get you home.”

You didn’t argue. Your heart was pounding too hard, and Simon took advantage of that to guide you to his car.

“Simon-“

“No.”

And thus the silence continued.

When you got back to their house, the others were waiting for you. Price immediately pulled you into a hug before you could demand answers, his hands firm but gentle on your lower back. “You’re safe now.” He murmured, as if soothing an angry kitten lashing out at him from fear. Despite your confusion and the flurry of emotions swirling in your chest, the tension in your body began to melt anyways, always so trusting of your Captain.

Gaz’s hand brushed against yours as he handed you a steaming cup of tea immediately once Price let go of you. His smile was kind, but his eyes seemed… off. Too sharp. “Drink this, yeah? It’ll help.” He said, his fingers lingering a second too long before retreating.

Before you could question the strange atmosphere, Soap tugged you down to sit beside him on the couch. His arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close as though you were on the verge of breaking. “You’ll be alright,” he murmured, tone light yet firm. “We’ve got you.”

Simon remained silent, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed. His presence loomed heavy in the room, his gaze never straying from you. It wasn’t comforting exactly- more like being caught in the sights of a predator lying in wait. Is this what the enemy soldiers thought and felt? You pitied them- but more than that you pitied yourself.

Your hands tightened around the warm mug, your confusion bubbling up like a shaken-up fizzy drink. “Okay, what the hell is going on?” You glanced between them, searching for answers. “Simon knocked out my date! What if he presses charges? And what’s with all this- this hovering?”

“Hovering?” Soap echoed, his arm tightening ever so slightly. “We’re making sure you’re alright, bonnie. That’s all. You said your date wasn’t good, no?”

Price leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke calmly, like he was explaining something obvious to a stubborn recruit. “That man wasn’t worth your time. None of your dates have been. They can’t protect you- not the way we can.”

“What are you even talking about?” you demanded, finally pulling away from Soap’s hold. Yet the feeling of being a bleeding sheep surrounded by wolves didn’t abate. “You’ve been acting so weird lately- ever since I mentioned dating. If there’s something you’re not telling me, just spit it out!”

Gaz sighed, his tone carrying a note of exasperation as he leaned against the couch. “We’re trying to keep you safe, love. Every time you step out with someone, you’re putting yourself at risk. You don’t know these people like we do.”

Your stomach churned. “What do you mean-?”

Gaz chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it, and you did not laugh. “Do you think we’d let you go out with someone without knowing everything about them first? Their names, their jobs, their pasts…” His voice dropped, a edge bleeding into his words. “How to get rid of them.”

Your blood ran cold, and you stared between them. They were dead serious, you realized. “That’s… You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.”

No one answered.

Simon pushed off the wall, his massive frame closing the distance between you in just a few steps. He crouched down in front of you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. You were essentially boxed in from all sides. “We’re not joking. You don’t need anyone else. You’ve got us.”

“…This isn’t normal.” You whispered, your voice shaky as you tried to process what you were hearing. “This- I don’t-“

“It is normal,” Price’s voice was steady and calm, eyes dark. “For us. For the people who care about you most.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as the implications of their words sank in. They weren’t just being overprotective or overbearing. They were sabotaging your dates, controlling who could get close to you, and now- God, had they hurt people? How many had they hurt? All those people- you-

Your hands trembled, though you braved on even if bravery was the last thing you felt. “You can’t just decide this for me. I’m not some possession you can keep to yourselves.”

“We’re not keeping you from anything you need,” Gaz spoke so softly, you could trick yourself into believing he was saying you could leave and this was all just a mean prank. “We’re protecting you from what you don’t.”

“You should be thanking us,” Proce sighed, pulling out a cigar to smoke. Yet his eyes did not leave you even once, not even for a single second. “We’re the reason you’ve been safe so far.”

Simon’s gloved hands rested on your knees, pinning you down to the couch. “We’ll take care of you,” he said, his voice low and almost soothing. “Always.”

You wanted to argue, to push them away, but the realization- the full weight of what they had done hit you like a freight train. You stood abruptly, pushing past Simon and cutting through the tense silence in the room. Their eyes followed your every move, like predators watching prey.

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” you stammered, stepping back toward the door. “This isn’t normal. None of this is normal. You can’t just- control my life like this!”

“Sit down, love.” Price said, his voice calm, but the edge in it was unmistakable.

“No, no,” you shot back, shaking your head as you took another step toward the door. “I’m leaving. I need some space. This- this is insane.”

Gaz rose from his chair, moving to block your path to the exit. His expression was so deceptively soft, but his stance was firm, unyielding. “You’re not thinking clearly, love.” He said, low. “Just sit down. We’ll talk it through.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you snapped, your voice rising with panic. “You’ve been stalking me- sabotaging my life! That’s not protection. That’s obsession!”

Soap stood then, and his expression made you flinch. He stepped closer, effectively boxing you in again as he joined Gaz. “We’re not letting you walk out that door.” He said simply, but his words were anything but.

You turned toward the only other way out, but Simon was already there, his massive frame looming in the doorway to the hall. He didn’t say a word, just stared, his presence alone enough to make your stomach twist.

Your breathing quickened as you turned back to Price, the only one still seated, though his gaze was sharp and calculating. “You can’t keep me here, Price,” you said, your voice trembling but still clinging to the traces of defiance. “You don’t have the right-“

“We do have the right,” Price interrupted, standing slowly. The sheer authority- the sheer finality in his voice made your knees weak. “Because we’re the only ones who care about you the way we do. The only ones who’ll keep you safe. Your team, remember, darling?”

“This isn’t safety,” you hissed, backing toward the wall. “This is prison.”

Price mouthed the word, then huffed a humorless laugh. “We’re not locking you up. But we will stop you from running into danger. Even if you don’t understand it now, you’ll thank us later.”

“You can’t just-“

“Enough,” Simon cut in, sharp and blunt, his voice cutting through your protests like a knife. “You’re not leaving. Not now. Not ever.”

Your back hit the wall, your escape routes blocked on all sides. Your chest heaved as you looked at each of them, searching for even a sliver of remorse. But all you saw was determination, faces set in stone…

Much like your fate.

[always-just-red]

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.  

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[monicahar]

“my wife.”

how they address you. why does it make your heart skip a beat each time?

characters; neuvillette, wriothesley

—female pronouns obvi, aaaa this is so random😭 fluff, tad bit of crack, has suggestive themes/dirty jokes cause that's my humor in general, just tryna get into writing again heehaa don't mind me ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

NEUVILETTE always accompanies the term with unmatched affection. it rolls off his tongue perfectly like a match made in heaven, coupled with the serene image of you instantaneously appearing in his mind before he even thinks of the uttering the endearing term. he still finds it surreal that you are both even lawfully married, yet the way he calls you his wife is already on instinct. is it too presumptuous of him?

well, in the end, he can't find any means to worry about it when you seem to equally adore the nickname.

“ooohh, say it again, say it again!”

he can't tell whether he married a child or not, but he still obliges your request and calls you his wife affectionately once more.

meanwhile, furina nearly gags everytime she hears him say it so softly—like using any other tone when referring to you would land him in the hands of the fortress of meropide. sure—she might've been the one who set up both of you—but the drama and thrill akin to watching a romance film has delightfully ended, and she can only meddle so much in marital matters. the iudex just might actually have her head in a platter if she were to do anything mischievous at that point.

but while a happy neuvillette is running around announcing 'my wife' this and 'my wife' that, you are currently stuck on what to call him in return, sadly enough.

“at this point, i think i'm just going to call you daddy.”

it was unfortunate with the way he choked on some of the water he was drinking—well, thank goodness he didn't spill much as before. for this wasn't the first time you said something unprompted while he was in peace with his water—he can only internally sigh.

“and what exactly has influenced you to arrive at such a conclusion, my wife?” he does not miss the tiny shudder of your body that followed the endearment. your face burns a tad bit at that, and he softly chuckles.

“your effect on me is no joke, you know?” you pout at his amused smile, “the way you refer to me so sweetly makes me want to call you my dearest husband everytime.”

“i don't recall voicing any complaints. is something else holding you back from doing so?”

you nod solemnly in agreement at that, which prompts him to raise a brow in mild curiousity.

“thing is, i really like calling you by your first name. same with monsieur neuvilette. there's something mildly erotic within it—you get what i mean, hehehe...” he only stares at you, clearly unimpressed, and a bit concerned at the implication. you clear your throat, apologizing under your breath.

“still—it's such a devastating predicament to be unable to choose between the three.” you sigh defeatedly, moving to slump your entire weight on his lap. you mutter, “my dearest husband monsieur neuvillette...mmm, no, that's too long.”

chuckling at your dramatic antics, he plants a soothing hand on your waist, the other fixing your wrinkled clothing as you practically melt against his hold. “and you thought settling on daddy was the appropriate option?”

“i'm not hearing any objections.” you jest, feeling cheeky.

“please refrain from calling me such a thing in the eyes of the public atleast.”

“...huh? you're actually allowing it??”

WRIOTHESLEY on the other hand, says it as if he's flaunting. it leaves his lips like a taunt each time, indirectly telling the other party 'i have a hot wife and you dont' even though most of the time the people he mentions you to don't even know what you actually look like. it's silly, childish even, but you still love it nonetheless.

sigewinne and the other inmates have collectively told you that ever since you got married, he has never uttered your actual name to anyone else. some find it weird, some find it somehow disrespectful, and some are now convinced he's crazily obsessed with you, and now he's showing it off every chance he gets, much to everyone's dismay.

it's arrived to the point where a small percentage of people have actually forgotten about your name, and now refer to you as the duke's wife, or even duchess, to which you made a face at. that's kind of pushing it by then.

anywho, in the end, it's funny and endearing, maybe even makes you a bit giddy, but there is no way you're telling him that. the situation might escalate even more if possible.

“you know, my wife is very mean to me today.”

as a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrap around your waist, you resist the growing smile on your face, deciding to mess with your husband for a bit.

“is that so?” you continue your chores without a care in the world. he huffs.

“mhm. she won't look me in the eye the whole day, even though she seemed sooo happy last night.” face instantly burning, you hiss as you slap his arm in a fit of embarrassment, pulling a hearty chuckle from the man behind you.

“—and now she's hitting me as well. i can't believe this.” you both know very well he was not fazed in the slightest bit.

“if her husband wasn't such a pervert then maybe—”

his facade cracks as he forces out an awkward laugh, “hey now, baby, you know i'm nothing like that.”

“wriothesley.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “okay, maybe a little. it's exclusive for you though! my wife doesn't have to be so mean about it, you're making me reallyyy sad here, y'know?”

there it is again, you think. that nickname. that damned word that makes you want to turn around and smash your lips against his and—wait, hold yourself together! don't forget the reason you're being cold to him!

“you deserve to feel remorse. i've been struggling to even move the whole day because of you.”

you go rigid.

you didn't mean for that to come out so bitter...oh no.

“oh. so that's what this is about.” you don't even have to turn around to know that there's a smug look on his stupidly handsome face, his grip on your waist turning into soothing circles as he presses a kiss to your neck.

“if my wife wanted a massage, she could've just said so.” it's husky when it leaves his mouth, leaving you to shiver with the chills he enunciates.

flustered, you completely disregard the way your knees buckle at the endearment laced with that low voice of his, hitting his arm once more, earning a tiny 'ouch' from him.

“pervert. i want rest, not another round!”

“heh, i didn't say anything about another round, my perverted wife.”

“you—” you are abrupt cut off as you yelp in surprise when your feet are raised off the ground, your face now much closer to your husband's as he carries you gently in his arms.

“shhh, just let me take you to bed. if my wife was feeling terrible the whole day, she should've just told me in the first place so she could stay in, don't you think?”

he's right, but you're still angry. “shut up.”

“just letting you know i'm not completely at fault, wife.” you attempt to ignore the furious beating of your heart, face burning at his smug expression. “i'm not the only one who wanted it.”

hsr version...? if i feel like it...🤔🤔