#(but if you wanna take it as that then by all means go for it. consensually!!!)

[starkeysprincess]

the annual christmas sorority date auction༉ೀ

warnings — frat!rafe, sorority!reader, date auction (for charity), rafe being competitive, jealous rafe, oral (m. receiving), praising, tit sucking, nipple biting (for like 2 seconds), spanking, sex in lingerie, unprotected sex, creampie wc — 1.7k a/n — merry christmas + happy new years !! got the date auction idea from the movie, white chicks

“not that i’m against the purpose of it, but do you have to be in this year’s event?” rafe huffed, looking around at the stage setup . “i would skip it if i could, but they think having all of us in the event will benefit the fundraiser,” you sigh. “yeah…well, these guys willing to bid to win a date with a girl is a bit pathetic, it’s stupid,” your boyfriend grumbled, making you raise a brow.

“oh is it? you didn’t seem to think it was stupid last year when you bid on getting a date with me. you know…the same date that led to us dating.” rafe knew you were right, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea, “i know, but i don’t want to even think about how many of the guys from the other fraternities will try to bid on getting a date with you.”

“guess you’ll have to outbid them, huh?” you tease. he rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines of, “i shouldn’t have to bid just to go on a date with my girl,” under his breath. “that’s too bad, i was hoping to give you one of your christmas presents early if you win the bid,” your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “yeah? and what would that be?” rafe grinned as you plucked his hat off his head, turning it around and placing it backward on his head.

“there’s only one way for you to find out,” you whipped your head around at the sound of your sorority sisters calling your name. “it’s about to start. i have to go before london rips my head off for not being ready,” you gave him a rushed kiss on the cheek, your gloss sticking to his skin, before heading towards the stage to get in position.

as the event started, rafe became antsy, waiting for your turn as your sorority sisters appeared on stage individually. members of fraternities bidding against one another in hopes of landing a date with any of the girls had him on the edge of his seat.

he fidgeted in his seat when london announced your name, his jaw clenching at the sound of the men hollering when you stepped out onto the center of the stage. you gave rafe a playful wink while london introduced your name and interests to the crowd of fraternity brothers before the bidding started.

he figured no one would try to place a bid, knowing you were his. but rafe couldn’t be more wrong when he heard “$100”. he sat up in his seat, snapping his head toward the direction of the voice. “you’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he scoffed, he glared, his eyes landing on chad, a member of his rival fraternity, who had his typical, stupid smug look on his face.

“$200,” rafe called out, and it didn’t take long for the two to start calling out numbers, trying to outbid the other. you nervously shifted in place, your eyes darted back and forth between rafe and chad, anxiously shifting in place as the number increased, nearing $800. your eyes widened at the number rafe blurted out, he knew his father would be furious once he found out how much money he blew off, but knowing no one could get their hands on you was worth it. seeing chad’s dumb grin on his face fall was purely a bonus.

after the event, you walked off stage, where rafe was waiting for you by the stairs. “thought you said you shouldn’t have to bid to go on a date with me?” you mock. he chuckled, dipping his head down to capture your lips with his, “like i said, you’re my girl. you didn’t really think i’d let these assholes take you from me, did you?” you giggle, “no, but you’re dad might kill you for how much money you dropped, which was a ridiculous amount.” rafe shrugged, “the old man will be fine, you know i don’t care how much i spend when it comes to you.”

“plus, i wanna know what my present is,” he grinned, “you can’t blame me for wanting to know when you’re the one who mentioned it.” you give him a playful smack to the chest, “you’ll see what it is when we’re back at my apartment.”

as soon as those words left your mouth, he practically dragged you out of the building. once the two of you made it to your apartment, he tried to pull you into your bedroom, only for you to shove him onto the couch, “be patient,” you warned. “baby, you know i’m the most impatient man when it comes to you,” rafe complained, groaning at the look you give him, “okay, fine.”

“wait here,” he watched you disappear around the corner and into your bedroom. he looked around at your apartment's walls which were adorned with pictures. his ears perked at the sound of your bedroom door opening, accompanied by your voice, ”close your eyes!” you poked your head out, ensuring his eyes were closed before walking out.

you stood before him, lowering your head to press your lips onto his in a messy kiss, climbing onto his lap, your legs straddling either side of him. rafe wrapped his arms around your waist, his tongue slipping into your mouth. he let out a strained groan as you suck on his bottom lip, a string of spit connecting between your lips when you pull away.

“holy shit…” rafe rasps, his eyes blinking open, raking up and down your body, taking in the red and white candy cane lingerie. “god…you look so fuckin’ sexy,” his hands ran up and down your thighs, fingers playing with the embellishments on your stockings.

you kiss along his jaw to his neck, sucking and biting at his skin. you roll your hips into him, grinding your clothed cunt against his bulge. rafe’s hand entangles in your hair, tugging your head back to pull you in for another kiss. he nips at your bottom lip, ”as much as i love this on you, i wanna see those pretty tits,” his hands snake behind your back. he unhooks the clasps of the corset, pushing the straps off your shoulders, and tossing it aside. your eyes flutter shut, his lips trailing down your neck to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses.

your hands pull at the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head, before gently shoving him to sit back. “i’m supposed to make you feel good tonight,” you slipped off his lap, settling yourself between his legs, your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. rafe lifted his hips, helping you pull his pants and boxers down to pool around his ankles, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. you look up at him, wrapping your hand around his length, stroking it slowly before licking at his tip, sucking it into your mouth.

he watches you take more of his cock into your mouth, and he leans forward, grabbing your hair and bunching it into his fist. “fuck, just like that,” he moans, his hips rolling, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth, pulling a gag from you when his tip repeatedly kisses the back of your throat. you blink up at him, tears threatening to spill and drool slipping out of your mouth, “always makin’ a mess on my cock like a good girl, just how i like it,” his praise making you press your thighs together.

his jaw goes slack, watching your lips slide up and down his dick, “fuck…you like makin’ me feel good, don’t you? always wanna please me no matter what?” you hum around him, the vibrations traveling up his cock making it hard for his eyes to stay open. he pulls you off of him with a wet ‘pop,’ “if i’m gonna cum, it needs to be inside your sweet little cunt.”

rafe yanks you up from your knees, and you hurriedly try to remove the garter belt and thigh-high stockings. “no, keep ‘em on,” he demands, pulling you down onto his lap again. you rest your hands on his broad shoulders, raising your hips to let his fingers hook into your thong to pull it to the side. “jesus, sucking my dick always gets you this wet, huh?” he chuckles, planting a hand on your hip to keep you steady.

he guides his cock to your drooling hole, biting back a groan at your walls stretching around him, sucking him in deeper. he presses his head into the cushion of the couch, staring up at you in awe as you roll your hips. ”takin’ me so deep, your pussy is always greedy f’me, isn’t she?” his hands ghost up your plush thighs to your ass. you whined when he delivered a sharp smack. “c’mon baby, you can do better than that,” he coos, encouraging you to move up and down, bouncing on his cock.

“good girl, just like that…” rafe grunted, leaning forward to capture your nipple into his mouth. his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, “rafe–” you yelped, the pain and pleasure of feeling his teeth sink into the sensitive bud sending jolts through your body. you whine as he pulls away, “oh, you like that, huh?”

he pulls you forward, your face burying into his shoulder and his hands grip the fat of your ass, holding you still to pound into you. you cry out, your nails biting into his skin, his thighs smacking against your ass with each harsh thrust. the head of his cock persistently hits your cervix, pulling a sharp gasp from you.

rafe removes one hand to slip between the two of you, the pads of his fingers circling your puffy clit. your eyes roll back, whimpering into his shoulder, “gonna cum f’me, baby? gonna make a mess all over my cock then let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum?”

“y-yes!” you sob, his fingers pinching your clit, sending you over the edge. “shh, just a little longer,” he groans at your walls squeezing around him. you pant against his neck, squirming on top of him. his hips stutter, pushing himself deep inside you, moaning your name, his cum spilling inside your cunt, painting your walls white.

“don’t know how you’re gonna beat next year’s present, this might’ve been the best christmas present yet,” rafe panted, kissing the side of your head.

taglist: @oceandriveab @cameronwillow @bloodibambiidoll @cameronsprincess @rafesthroatbaby @rafeyscurtainbangs @starkeysbabygirl @nemesyaaa @rafesangelita @rafesbabygirlx @fallbhind @zyafics @fae-of-prey @cybersunnie @whytheylosttheirminds @ilovefiction4lmen @jjslaybank @whinyangel @rafeysangelbaby @momoewn @kazanskied @saintlike05 @coco-cinnamon @blckbrrybasket @wearemadeofstardust0 @starkeysbebe @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @starkeysheart @littlelamy

[smutoperator]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Yu Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader

Tags: ball sucking, big tits worship, body bang, creampie, dirty talk, footjob, lube, married man, riding and grinding, snow, titfucking

Word count: 4820

It was a very cold day as the winter got harsher. You definitely didn't want to go outside today. However, you started hearing some unusual noises in your backyard, finding a pretty girl playing in the snow.

"What are you doing outside in this cold weather? You're going to freeze," you said to the girl. "Sorry, my manager's car broke down, and I can't go back to my dorm, so I decided to kill some time playing in the snow," Karina answered. "Come inside; you must be freezing," you said to her. "Thank you," Karina replied.

"I'm going to prepare some hot drinks for you," you said to Karina. "You're so kind," she said, taking some of her heavy gear out as she went inside. You went to the kitchen to make a hot chocolate for Karina, wondering how such a pretty girl ended up right by your house.

Karina drank the hot chocolate you offered her. "Thank you once again," she said. "How can I pay you?" she asked. "There is no need to; I decided to protect you from the cold; it's all on me," you answered her. "Okay, fine, but what if I want to pay you anyway?" Karina asked. "What do you mean?" you asked her.

"I mean this," Karina started taking off her clothing until she was just wearing her bra and then flashed you her big and saggy tits. "I think you're going to like them; everybody seems to," she said, very confident of her assets.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you asked her, very confused by the scene but deep in your head agreeing with her; she indeed got such perfect tits. "Come on, do you wanna taste them?" Karina asked, getting up from the table and putting them right beside your mouth. You hesitated at first, but those milky melons are like magnets; you can't resist them for long.

You rested your face in Karina's left boob, much to her enjoyment. But it didn't take long for you to start sucking them like a newborn baby getting fed by his mother. Karina looked down and enjoyed the way you worshipped them, pushing her right boob as well. You closed your eyes and felt them hit you softly. "Nice and slow," she said as you felt the texture and smell of it while putting your face right between her big tits.

You softly kissed Karina's nipples. "Calm down, you're moving too fast," she said, prompting you to open your eyes. She then slowly drove them to your mouth, grabbing both her boobs and rubbing them in your face. You sniffed them, amazed by how good she smelled. You started kissing them right by their areola. "There you go," Karina said, approving it and bringing her tits together so you could play with both. Your kisses got louder and louder, and soon you were tonguing her nipples too.

"Slow down," Karina said as you tried to grope her boobs. "Just let me guide you," she continued, moving her boobs up and down your face before burying it right in the middle of her melons and using them to suffocate you, hitting the side of your face with them. "You're doing well," she said, kissing you as she tried to take it slow again, but this time, you jumped over her and grabbed her massive milkers, sucking them and slapping her nipples with your tongue, making her moan for the first time. you moved from tit to tit, leading to more moans and laughs as you slapped them together and then sucked them using no hands, making her saggy boobs stretch and then popping them out of your mouth, making sounds resembling a ballon.

"Yes," Karina approved of your moves as you kept worshipping her big tits; you slapped them against your face and then motorboated her boobs. Karina decided to pump the brakes a bit and pushed away from you, but you just kept going, stretching her arms and hitting her boobs, making her smile while doing so. She started taking her bottom clothes off one by one until she showed you her sexy ass, which you spanked as soon as it got in your sight and then slowly took her panties down while you slapped her tits.

You stared at Karina's naked body from top to bottom, amazed by how hot it was. She truly felt like a specimen from another planet, a superhuman. Pretty face, big tits, a perfect slim waist, and honey thighs, she got everything.

Karina guided you to the living room, sitting on your couch and spreading her legs for you, showing off her pink pussy in full display, massaging it and teasing you. "Hmmm, I can't wait for you to smash it. I knew the moment I saw you in the snow that you got a big cock, you were already hard for me in that freezing cold weather," she said. "I won't be going home until you put every inch of that thick cock in me, and fill me up" she continued.

Damn, you wondered how she noticed that. But Karina quickly got up and closed her legs. "Now, you're gonna tell me where your bedroom is, and I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you," she said.

You loved Karina's boldness, quickly driving her to your bedroom. As soon as you two got there, she shoved you in your bed and quickly stripped you of any clothing. You were wearing a lot of them, but Karina was so fast they were all gone in less than 30 seconds. She crawled on top of the bed and kissed you while already grabbing your massive, throbbing erection. You two stayed sharing kisses for a bit, but you quickly tried to move down her body, licking her tits and grabbing her ass, to which she countered by grabbing your shaft even harder.

"I can feel it getting harder and harder for me," Karina talked dirty to you. "Your balls are so nice to touch; I hope they are full of cum; my pussy needs it," she continued as she massaged them and touched the tip of your cock with her nipples. As she did it, you dove into them and gave them a little bit. "Fucking bite that nipple," she said as you worshipped her tits again and spanked her ass. "Hmmm baby, yes, put your hands all over me," Karina said with a big smile on her face.

Karina quickly regained control, climbing on top of you and rubbing your shaft against her big tits, You spanked her ass as she kissed you, but it was difficult to contain her appetite. "Oh my God, you're so fucking hard," she said, spitting on your cock and touching the tip of it in her tits. "Fuckkkk, is it all for me?" she asked, looking at your massive cock. "Yes, all yours," you confirmed.

"Oh my gosh," Karina said as she stroked your cock, very impressed with its size; she played with your cock. "I just love feeling every inch in my hands, squeezing and stroking it," she said as she played with your foreskin. "I just want to put it in my mouth so bad," she continued, spitting on your cock again.

"Hmmm, I love feeling it on my chest," Karina said as she moved your shaft between her tits, quickly unveiling her best weapon as she started titfucking it. "I just love the way it slides up and down my big tits, nice and slow," she says. "You like the way it fucks those pretty tits too?" you asked her. "Of course," she answered.

"Oh my God, the way my tits press, it is so good," Karina says as she kisses you and then starts moving very fast. "I just love that feeling; let me rub it right on my nipple," she says as she keeps teasing your shaft with her big tits. You pour some lube on them to help her slide them better, which she approves. "Oh perfect, cover them in that," she says.

"Sensitive right there?" Karina asks as she finds different ways to move your cock between her tits each time. "Fuck, I just love playing with them," she says. "Oh shit, keep moving like that," you say as your foreskin keeps popping in and out as Karina bounces her tits and kisses you. "So good, right? Those big, fat tits wrapped around that cock," she asks, moving her tits faster and paying special attention to the tip.

"Let me rub it on my nipple," Karina says. Then she lets you grab her tits as she keeps moving them. "That cock feels so good between my tits, but I have other ways to tease it," she says, licking the tip of your cock and coughing on it. "My mouth wants to taste that cock so bad, oh yeah," she says, deepthroating your cock. "Oh, it feels so good when it touches the back of my throat. I love worshipping that cock," she says, taking it deeper in her mouth and spitting all over it.

"My mouth is watering for that cock; I can't wait for you to use it to fuck the shit out of me," Karina says. You push her head further down your shaft as she gags on it before moving to worshipping your balls. "Keep going, keep that dick wet," you say. "Yes, I will, baby," she replies. "Come here and fuck my face," she continues.

You grab Karina's pretty face and start thrusting hard against it, making her cough all over your dick. After that, she goes back to jerking your cock off and rubs her feet on your body before moving them around your cock and starting a footjob alongside a handjob. "Hmmm, my spit made that cock so slippery," she says with a big smile on her face.

Karina uses her feet to worship your cock. "That's so fucking hot; I can feel your cock enjoying it," she says, increasing the speed of her footjob and touching her toes to your balls before you grab them and keep them moving. "Perfect, keep stroking yourself with my feet," she says.

"Oh, this cock is gonna stretch me out so well," Karina says as she prepares to finally climb on top of it. "Nice and slow, yeah, ahhhh," she says as she puts it deep in her pussy from the start. "I wanna feel that whole cock in me," she says as you spread her ass, and she moves really slowly on that dick, getting herself acclimated with every inch of it. "Nice and deep in that pussy, I want every inch," Karina says.

Slowly, Karina picks up the pace, her big tits starting to bounce in front of you. "Oh God, your cock feels amazing," she says. "I love those hands in my ass," she continues as you grab them for extra grip. "You like it when I bounce on that cock?" she asks as she finally moves fast. "Yes," you answer.

"Fuck, it's so big in my pussy," Karina says as she starts shaking her ass faster, before coming to a sudden stop after a few squats. "I love grinding on that big cock," she says. "My pussy is feeling so stretched out," she continues.

Karina squats on your cock as you just watch her big tits bounce faster and faster and her moan harder and harder. "Oh yes, please," she says. You push your dick up her cunt. "Just like that, stretch my little pussy," she begs. "Perfect, I love how your balls hit my asshole," she says.

Truly, very few girls can spice things up in bed the way Karina does. You love the way she just bounces on your cock with hard squats and creams all over your cock. "That big cock makes me cum so hard; let me grind on it a bit," Karina says as she pauses her bouncing for a perfectly timed slowdown that allows her to feel every inch for longer. "My pussy is so fucking wet with this cock all the way deep inside me," she says.

"You like how I bounce on that big cock?" Karina asks. She can tell you do by the way you spank her ass as soon as she asks it. Her pussy starts queefing as she feels over the moon with your cock shaping her walls all the way deep into her cervix. She lets you pump it up a bit. "Harder, harder, right there, don't stop, don't stop," she says as your balls hit her ass cheeks.

"I need to taste it," Karina says as she climbs out of your cock to suck it. "Oh my God, that cock is so fucking hard," she continues as you feel exhausted already just by her little ride, and she keeps going with all the energy in the world, licking the tip of it like crazy and bobbing her head on it. "Oh shit," you say, trying to match her sucking with a couple of lazy thrusts that soon get fast enough to make her gag. But Karina is relentless and stays choking on your cock even with your hard pushes.

"Hey, baby, do you want to worship that pussy you just fucked?" Karina asks. "Come here," she says, lying on the bed and spreading her legs. You promptly attend to her request, diving hard inside her queefing cunt while massaging her big tits. "Such a good view of that pink pussy and amazing body, ahhhhh," Karina says as she moans. "Just fucking suck that clit, rub your face on me," she says, grabbing it as she grinds her cunt on it and squirts a bit. You quickly go crazy, moving faster and faster over her folds to match her grinding. "OH MY GOD, FUCK, OH YEAH, suck that pussy," Karina screams and moans as you only increase your speed.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna cum in your face," Karina announces as her legs shake and she squirts a fountain on your face. "Oh baby, you make me cum so hard," Karina says. "You know what? you should get a reward for that. I need that dick so fucking bad in me, put it back in my pussy as your reward," she commands.

You fuck Karina in missionary position, her spreading more lube to make it easier for you to hit deep in her pussy. "OH MY GOD, IT'S SO DEEP," she screams as your cock bulges under her belly and you muffle her moans with your thumb while she massages that clit. "Stretch my fucking cunt like that," she says just as you grope her tits. Karina spreads her pussy lips open, her legs trembling again over her head.

"MAKE ME CUM, MAKE ME CUM, MAKE ME CUM AGAIN, KEEP GOING, AHHHHH," Karina says as she creams all over your cock. Your body gets. "Just spread my fucking pussy open like that, oh yeah," Karina moans like crazy as you massage her pussy and tits at the same time. You increase your speed, pinning Karina's left leg against her left tit while letting her right boob freely bounce. "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK, GIVE ME MORE; THAT'S SO MUCH COCK FOR ME. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she moans like a good slut, smiling as she gets pounded harder and harder at each minute. "OH YEAH, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, FUCK YEAH, FUCK YEAH, AHHHHHH, MAKE ME CUM RIGHT NOW, AHHHHHH," Karina keeps moaning as your thursts keep speeding up, her big tits completely pinned to her long and thicc legs, her cunt completely spread out as you bang her body the way it should be fuck. "Bottom out inside of me," Karina moans as you hit her cervix and orgasms again.

Karina lies on her side as she lets you slide into her pussy in a spooning position, you teasing her entrance before going in. "Ohhh, work that cock in there," she begs as you stretch her pussy out slowly and suck her tits up top, pouring some lube in her still-tight hole even after all that pounding. "Spread the shit out of me, please," she demands as the lube keeps pouring on your slippery cock.

"Perfect, I can feel every inch; that's so good," she says as you take a slower, more passionate approach to digging deeper in her pussy while also paying lots of attention to kissing her neck and sucking and groping her boobs. "Nice and deep," Karina commands as she gets herself over the moon. "I love the way you suck my tits while going super deep," she says.

"Holy shit, I'm so fucking wet; I want you to fuck me harder. please, don't fucking stop," Karina commands as you increase the pace and grope her boobs harder. "Keep going, fuck me harder, AHHHHHH," Karina begs and gets it as you hit her cunt at full speed. "SPREAD MY PUSSY OPEN HOLY FUCK," she screams as you pound her and make her boobs bounce like pinballs. "FASTER, FASTER," she keeps asking and you oblige, just destroying that sexy pink pussy at will while she moans and screams. "AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH, PLEASE DON'T STOP" she keeps screaming.

"I love the way you fuck my brains out," Karina says, putting her legs up and massaging your shoulders while you keep pounding her. "Turn around; I want to see that sexy ass and make those big tits bounce," you tell her. "Oh yeah," she says, immediately following as she gets herself on all fours, you massage her ass before grabbing her waist and pounding her pussy again. Karina turns around. "Let me see that big fucking dick going inside me," she says, spreading her pussy once again.

"Look how I spread my little fucking hole for you, baby," Karina says. You react and spank her ass, only making her happier. "Keep going, baby, hit that sexy ass," she says, flaunting it while her massive udders freely bounce now. She covers her ass with your lube, making it very slippery. "Rub that shit in my ass, make me shine even more than I already do," she orders. You increase the speed, making Karina moan sexily. "Take that whole fucking dick in my—oh my god, make my ass bounce, yes," she says as you grab her even harder than before. "Keep going, make those big fat tits bounce, AHHHHH," she orders, getting interrupted by another hit in her ass that makes her scream. This slut is truly untamed as she starts bouncing her ass on all fours on your cock. "I just love being fucked like that," she says.

Karina reaches to massage her clit as your cock keeps pounding her pink pussy from behind, her tits getting bouncier than ever. "Oh yeah, just fucking drill my pussy, hit me like that, oh yeah, make me cum, please, fucking destroy me, put that whole dick in me, fuck me like a slut, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK." She keeps talking even as you tie her arms behind her back in a futile attempt to tame this big tit bitch. You try to show your strength by fucking Karina as hard as you can, but that only makes the smile in her face bigger and bigger, she's truly a superhuman creature, more explosive than a supernova, capable of causing whiplash even to the strongest guy. She burns it up, spices it up and leaves nothing behind, a next level force of nature.

"Fuck, just destroy me, work that cock in there, don't be shy, baby, hit me hard and deep, spread me wide open, ohhhh, I love that cock," Karina says in the middle of a lot of smiling. You spank her ass, but it's just futile. "You keep spanking me because that sexy ass can't stop bouncing hard on your cock, poor baby," she answers. She may be the one taking the pounding, but she's the one toying with you. "Look at those fucking balls; I can feel all that cum building up, ready to explode in my perfect pussy," she says.

"You like how that big cock slides in and out of me?" Karina asks. "You like how it stretches my little pussy? Oh fuck," she continues. "Keep going, stretch me out, please, take it deep, put every inch in there, just like that, keep spreading my ass, don't take your hands off me," she keeps saying with a huge smile on her face.

"Damn it, you're such a fucking slut. I should have never let you inside my house, you big tit bitch," you say to her as Karins starts shaking her ass up and down your cock while it stays deep in her pussy. "Oh baby, come on, it was very cold out there, but as soon as I got inside I lit up the entire house, you knew from the beginning, you always wanted me, I saw the way you looked at my big tits when I was laying in the snow, guys stare at them like you did every time I enter any room," she answers, smiling once again to you.

"Oh my God, I love being stuffed by that fucking dick," Karina says as you two have been fucking in the same position for a while now. Maybe it's time to switch it up. You slow down, enjoying a last few thrusts in her cunt from behind while you spread her ass and she fingers her clit. "Fuck, my clit is so sensitive; you hit it so hard. I wanna cum again so fucking bad, make me do it, please, FUCKKKKKK", Karina says. "KEEP IN THERE, DON'T PULL IT OUT UNTIL I CUM,," Karina says, covering your cock full of her juices and laughing like a mad girl while her already very red asscheeks shake.

"Put that cock back in my mouth," Karina orders as she spits all over your dick and tastes her juices. You look at her amazing body while she slurps your shaft in her mouth. "Your cock tastes so good, hmmm," she says. "Soon you're gonna put this back inside me, make me cum again and again because I want it," she says, licking your balls and allowing you to have a perfect view of her ass. No matter how much you see of her body, it always amazes you how perfect it is from head to toe. If you were one of those mythological authors, you would definitely say Karina is the goddess of fertility with those big, saggy tits and hot body.

"Let me put that pussy in your face," Karina says as she facesits you and gives you a 69 while grinding her cunt on your mouth and covering your cock full of spit as she chokes on it without using her hands, and your tongue massages her throbbing pussy. "Ohhh yeah, let me shake my fucking pussy on you," she says as she moves her body sideways, now in a standing-up position that makes her saggy boobs drop down quite a lot while she reaches to stroke your cock.

"Tell me you want to put your cock back in me," Karina says. "I do," you promptly answer as she sits back on top of you, allowing you to suck her tits like a baby while she grinds her asscheeks on your shaft. "Hmmm, look at the way your cock likes being wrapped around my ass, just like it does to my big tits," she says. "You know, I was gonna let you fuck my ass too, but you were a bad boy, called me a slut, which I know I am, but you can't say it," she says while pouring more lube on your cock for an easier rubdown. "Because of that you're going to be facing more punishment, I'll sit that pussy on that big dick and bounce on it until your balls explode," she continues as she jerks your cock off and then inserts it back in her pussy.

"HOLY FUCK, it stretches me out so good; it feels so good in me," Karina says as she puts every single inch of that dick inside her pussy, the hood of her clit landing right where your balls are positioned. "Work that cock in there, please," she commands as you start pushing your shaft up her pussy. "I want every inch; go nice and deep," Karina says as she spreads. "Oh God, I feel so full," Karina says as you pump it up and down her pussy. "Go deep, go deep, please, ahhhhh, yesss, hmmm," she moans as your balls now hit her clit nonstop and you grope her tits, making her smile a lot.

"OH MY GOD, THAT COCK IS SO BIG," Karina screams. "HARDER, HARDER, AHHHHH, JUST GO FUCKING CRAZY IN THAT PUSSY!" she keeps pushing, trying to bounce a bit herself as it gets deeper and deeper in her cunt. "I love how it hits all the way in the back of my pussy, yes, yes, AHHHHH, PLEASSE, FUCKKK, GO DEEPER AND DEEPER IN ME, FUCK YEAH, USE THAT FUCKING SLUTTY PUSSY" she keeps moaning and rubbing her clit as you keep pounding. "I love watching my titties bounce while you fuck me," she continues as she pinches her clit while your cock piunds her and you grope her saggy bouncy tits.

"Spank my ass and let me take that fucking dick," Karina says as you clap her cheeks with your hips hitting it nonstop. "Oh, it's so fucking slippery," Karina says as your big cock keeps sliding in and out of her pussy with ease. "Give me all that fucking dick, oh God," Karina moans as you pound her harder and harder and suck her big bouncy tits, before slowing down and letting her bounce on your cock by herself as she does her squats on your cock. "Ohhh, look at my pussy just gripping the whole fucking thing," she says.

Karina clings on to your body, pressing her big chest against yours while her pussy is queefing. "Oh, I love to ride that big fucking dick, deeper and deeper each time in my pussy," she says. Her squatting only gets faster the more you spank her butt, her pussy completely obliterating your cock at each bounce. Now she's the one spanking her own ass, getting crazier and crazier and smiling each time your cock reaches the furthest depths of her pussy. "I love the way you stretch my little fucking hole; you stretch me so nice, I want to keep this dick in me all day, make my pussy sore as it pounds me like a good slut," she says.

You pull out your cock a bit and slap your tip on Karina's clit, but she's so needy at this point she can't stay a single second. Karina now bounces like a mad girl. "YES, YES, YES, GIVE ME THAT FUCKING DICK RIGHT NOW, OH YEAH, FUCK ME REALLY HARD," she screams. She's ready to make you cum at any second as her bounces get faster and faster. "I want to get this dick so fucking hard it can't stop cumming all over my pussy," she bluntly shows her intentions.

"I want you to cum in me; I want you to put your load in me, please," Karina commands. "Oh, that big cock just stretches my pussy perfectly, oh god," she says. "I want to feel that hot cum in me, my pussy is gonna make that big cock cum soon," she continues as she grinds on your cock and you suck her big tits. "You want me to grind on that cock until you cum?" Karina asks. "Yes," you answer. "Then put every last drop in me," she says.

As soon as she says these words, you promptly unload in her pussy, spreading her pussy as your cum leaks out of her pink hole. "Let me taste some of this yummy cum," Karina says as it falls on your body and she licks it, while also licking your shaft. "Hmmm, still sensitive?" she asks as your balls are completely drained and you collapse on the bed, but Karina keeps going, slurping all that cum that fell into your abs. "Hmmm, it tastes so good," she says, giving a little kiss and lick to the tip of your cock as a way to thank you. "I can never get enough of this cock," she says.

Karina leaves the room as you remain on the bed completely naked. The next thing you see when waking up is your wife. Karina had put all her clothes back, except one, which she left on the kitchen table and gave the evidence your wife needed.

"Whose bra is this?" your wife asks.

"It's yours; I bought it for Christmas," you lie to her.

"Cut the crap; my tits are not that big," she answers.

[henry7931]

Chase:

Today is a really weird day and I didn’t know how I would feel about coming over to my best friend Bryce’s house especially after the incident.

Bryce and I have been friends for over 12 years now and him and I have always been a couple of scrawny gay nerds. We both love Minecraft legend of Zelda, just about every video game you can think of and one way we really bonded was figuring out that we are both gay.

Now for years, I’ve always known that Bryce had a crush on me. For me it was never that I didn’t like Bryce or I was never interested, but I never wanted to ruin the friendship. But then you have Walker is older brother. Walker is a few years older than us. He’s super handsome, athletic, charming, he could basically date anyone he laid his eyes on.

The truth is Walker was my sexual awakening for years. I’ve stayed at their house and spent the night and it wouldn’t be uncommon to see Walker come out and nothing but basketball shorts hell I don’t even think he would wear underwear sometimes.

I can remember the way seeing him made me blush, and I tried my hardest not to stare at him. I don’t know if Walker could tell that I was checking him out. Or maybe Walker was just used to people checking him out shouldn’t be any surprise that his little brother‘s gay friend had his eyes glued to him.

And somehow he continues to keep getting hotter and hotter and hotter…

So several weeks ago, Bryce and Walker’s family went on vacation to some tropical island. And something very strange happened while touring an old temple. How Bryce explained it to me was that they had a sign up that specifically said, “ please do not touch artifact.”

Bryce can be such a stickler for rules and I can almost see it in my head. It all went down. Bryce told Walker not to touch it. Walker likes to get on Bryce‘s nerves Walker reaches for it and then shit got real quick. Because Walker and Bryce have now switched bodies.

When Bryce was explaining all this to me, I really thought it was bullshit. I mean, who would believe that that sounds like something from a movie and yet even hearing Walker‘s voice, I can tell just by the tone that it’s Bryce.

So today is the first day that I have seen Bryce since he swapped bodies with Walker. And that’s why I feel all kinds of weird.

Now Bryce and I have stayed with each other like 1 million times and it’s really not unusual for us to be basically naked around each other. OK maybe not completely naked but like at least in her underwear.

And I have tried really, really hard to make him feel comfortable and I think I’m doing a really good job but having him standing in front of me in just his brother’s boxers is driving me a bit insane.

I’m sitting on Bryce‘s bed and walks back into his room just to ask me if I wanted anything from downstairs like something to drink or maybe a snack. I can barely get out the words because I can’t stop staring at the chiseled God in front of me.

“ chase you’re staying the night right?,” he asked me.

“ oh yeah, of course I’m staying the night as long as that’s OK.”

“ yeah man of course it’s okay! You know it’s okay man. No one cares you stay the night. You’re like basically family sides. My brother isn’t going to be home tonight. He’s wanted a lot of space since the whole. I’ve got his body thing. And both my parents are out of town so it’s just gonna be us,” he says with a side smirk.

“ well if it’s just us what do you wanna get into tonight?,” I say trying to make conversation.

I’m holding my eye contact directly at his face and I try my hardest not to look anywhere else, but he takes his hand and start scratching his balls and I can almost feel my whole cock twitch.

“ I mean since everybody’s not here tonight, we can always break into my parents liquor cabinet, whoop whoop!”

You know I am probably the most innocent 18 year-old alive, I don’t wanna attend parties nor do I really sneak around my parents but I feel like alcohol sounds like a great idea right now. I mean it I might be able to calm down a bit.

“Hell yeah! That’s sounds fun!,” I say with some enthusiasm.

“Bet! Be right back!”

I hear as heavy feet running down the stairs and all I can do is try to think of something that would totally turn me off like anything taxes, my grandparents, just something…

And yet all I can think about is how hot it would be if I could suck on his toes. I’ve had a thing for feet a while now and it’s taking me a little bit to accept it and a part of that I blame Walker for him because he has some sexy ass feet.

I can remember clearly the smell of his feet after he would finish football practice and he would pull off his shoes. Shit! Fuck! I’m so hard right now. I feel like I’m gonna have to sneak away and beat one out in the bathroom just to clear my head.

And then here comes Bryce with two glasses in his hand and a bottle of wine for the both of us just super eager.

I reposition myself to where I’m laying flat on my stomach so he doesn’t notice.

Bryce hops on to the bed with me and try’s his hardest to navigate a wine opener.

“Geez, I have no clue what I’m doing here…”

I eventually take it and started twisting in. I try to pull it out but struggle.

“Here since you now have all of the muscles.”

He rolls his eyes at me and tugs it out.

“Success!”

“Good team work there he-man,” I say playfully.

Bryce’s pours both of us a glass and at first I thought it tasted awful. But the second glass… now I see why people like it. I feel so warm inside and relaxed.

We both lay back in his bed.

“Is it super weird for you?,” I ask him.

“What?”

“You know… being in your Walkers body.”

“Um… yes. Yes and no I guess. I feel like everything has just moved so quick since the trip. I feel very different in public, like I’m so much more noticed. girls hit on me… so do guys. It’s a lot to take in especially since you and my family are the only ones who know about it.”

“What about Walker’s girlfriend?”

“Oh he broke up with her, thought it would be less weird. Although he had to do it over text because I refused to call or see her in person.”

“Damn! That’s crazy.”

“Yeah but she was like his girlfriend for the month, nothing serious.”

Of course…

“So is this pretty permanent?”

“Yeah I think so, unless you know of any other magic objects than can reverse it haha.”

“No, not off of the top of my head,”I say jokingly.

“Well… that answers your question. This is my body now. This is the new me I guess,” he says looking his muscles over.

I look them over as well and then my eyes draw this briefs… he’s got a hard on…

Bryce catches my eyes and says, “you wanna touch it?”

“What?!?”

“Come on Chase… don’t play games with me. I know you and I know you’ve had the hots for this body. I’ve known for years now.”

I take a deep breath… I feel my nervous all over again.

“It’s okay, I know you like this body. It’s my body now. And I want you to touch my massive dick.”

“But Bryce!”

“Shhh! Chase I’ve had a crush on you for years and I know you would never fool around with me. And now I have the body you’ve been lusting for years now. TOUCH MY MASSIVE DICK PLEASE!”

“Fuck, okay.”

I start touching it from the outside and it does feel huge!

“You know I love you Bryce, you’re the most important person to me. I just never wanted us to loose our friendship. It’s why I never tried anything with you.”

“I know. And listen I know you weren’t trying to go after my brother. I know what he looks like. Everyone does. But now I have the body and the personality so, I’m giving you no choice but to date me. Got it?”

“Ugh fine,” I say rolling my eyes.

“Now can you do me a favor?”

“Sure!”

“Can I see your feet?” he says to me.

Wow! Wasn’t expecting that!

“Wait why?”

“I hope you don’t think this is weird but I have a thing for them.”

“Shut up! So do I!”

“You do?!?”

“Yeah especially…,” I eye down to his feet and wiggles his toes.

“Oh my god! This is about to be a wild night!”

“Wait, can I kiss you?”

“Please!”

Part 2 Coming…

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Cramp Simulator

LADS Men and a cramp simulator. This is how I imagine they would handle it.

A/N: I’ve gotten many requests for a cramp simulator so this is for those who wanna torture their man hehe

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

[Before]

Of course he is berating you with questions. Where did you get this? why do you want him to do this? Will this have long lasting effects?

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad so he’s having a hard time understanding why you want to cause him immense pain

Agrees anyway because he will always do whatever you want him to do

[During]

This would be one of the rare moments you see Zayne break his calm cool and collected composure

“Are you sure you’re not having a heart attack every month?” He’s leaning on any surface he can find long after you’ve taken the simulator off of him

I imagine he has a high pain tolerance, but this was too much “You can turn it off now” you turn it up. “My love please turn it off” red in the face sweating and hands are shaking

[After]

You gave him your heating pad to help with the lingering pain “I was unaware of what you were dealing with every month”

Prepare to be pampered every time you get your period now; he's stocking up all your feminine products, tea, heating pads, painkillers, and your favorite foods and snacks

Monitors your heart closely during the week because he's worried you might have a heart attack

Brings up the option of medical grade painkillers, but immediately changes his mind because he doesn’t want you getting addicted

“Next time you start you period just take the week off” insists you stay home and let him take care of you, bringing you tea and rubbing your stomach

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

[Before]

Overconfident to start — he can sense when you’re not feeling well, but can’t sense your cramp pain he just knows you’re not okay

Believes you when you say your cramps are bad, but "there’s no way they’re that bad" he has a high pain tolerance so “this will be a piece of cake turn it up”

[During]

Trying to hide the grimace on his face when he feels the first ‘cramp’ “Keep going?” “Yea this is nothing” he’s already sweating

Screaming, whining, crying and damn near throwing up “I’m dying there’s no way im not dying I see the light” “You’re not dying” “YES I AM”

��This is what you go through? No wonder you’re so mean” “I was being nice this is what I actually feel” you turn it up and he throws himself on the floor “I’M SORRY I’M SORRY TURN IT OFF PLEASE” gasping for air as he rolls around

[After]

Leaves you little snacks and gifts outside the door whenever you get your period now

Has never asked “Is it really that bad?” again because he knows the answer now; gets pains just thinking about it

Had to go lay down and take a nap after you took the simulator off of him.

Stocks up on heating pads and rubs your stomach and back religiously now

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

[Before]

Isn’t nervous, but also isn't excited “I’m ready”

Is only doing this because you promised him hotpot afterwards

“You’re no stranger to pain” “Im not a masochist” “Debatable”

[During]

The pain was so bad that it pissed him off “This is complete bullshit” “I’m not interested in continuing this turn it off please”

When you turn it up so show him what you actually experience he’s kneeling at your feet begging you to turn it off “My Star please I understand please end this”

Accidentally grips whatever is near him so hard he breaks it

sweating, red in the face with tears in his eyes

[After]

Nurse Xavier now

Whenever you get your period he’s making you lay down and take it easy all week.

Is helping you in and out of bed

Leaves either a tampon or fresh underwear with a pad already lined in it on the counter for you when you get out of the shower

Loves these weeks now because he can nap with you as much as he wants

Carries you everywhere “Xav I promise I can walk” “With cramps as horrendous as those? You really are superwoman”

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

[Before]

Nonchalant as always has almost a bored expression

“I still feel pain Princess, but I'll indulge you”

You tell him to sit down, but he opts to stand

"You shot and stabbed me before I can handle this" "I scratched you" "You stabbed me clear through the chest" "What?" "What."

[During]

Panting and red in the face does his best to try and handle the pain

Breathing heavily and doubled over leaning against the nearest surface he can find

“Okay okay thats enough” brought him to knees once again “I thought you could handle pain?” “That does not mean I enjoy it”

Has to sit down for a while completely still like a statue after that

[After]

Already pampered you during your periods, but he’s upped it now

Literally tracks your cycle and makes sure he’s always nearby incase it comes early

Wants you to stay with him the entire time “I need to go to work Sylus” “No you don’t you need to rest”

Makes a nesting bed for you and is at your beckoned call

[moonstonejpg]

i am having a rough mental health day so here’s some christmas bakugo fluff

“mina, if you sing that song one more time I swear to god I’m going to—“

“kats!” you hiss, tugging his sleeve.

he harrumphs. “what? it’s annoying me.”

kirishima laughs from the kitchen, pointing at katsuki, who is standing in front of the christmas tree with his arms crossed.

“everything annoys you.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, and you can’t help but let out a small giggle as you watch him. he’s wearing a santa hat (courtesy of ochako), and yet he still has his signature scowl on his face.

his eyes snap to you upon hearing your giggle, and the corners of his lips tip up in a small smile. he reaches a hesitant arm around you, plucking your now empty glass from your hand.

“do you want more?” he asks quietly, eyes soft as he gazes as you.

you nod, smiling softly at him.

he then goes into the kitchen, smacking kirishima on the side of his head as he passes him.

“i don’t know how you did it.” a voice says next to you. you turn, seeing mina leaning over the couch where you’re seated, chin resting on the backing of the couch.

“did what?”

she sighs happily, reaching out to twist one of your curls around her finger.

“katsuki’s never…well, you know how he is. i don’t think he’s ever considered that another person could love him, and then you found him. and i don’t think i can ever thank you enough for showing him that he deserves to be loved.”

“I—he means the world to me.” you say quietly.

mina grins, then lets go of your hair, standing as you turn your eyes to the blonde who was making his way back over to you. he hands you your drink before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “wanna go somewhere a little quieter?”

you nod, heart thudding as you stand and follow him to the dining room where towers of cookie boxes are stacked, a result of a baking contest gone awry a few nights ago (izuku won, of course).

katsuki stands there for a few seconds, eyes shifting around the room nervously.

“i uh. i got you a gift.” he says quietly, avoiding eye contact as he slips a small white box from his back pocket.

you take it from him, eyeing the badly wrapped box with amusement.

“y—you got this for me?” you breathe.

he nods, a hand coming up to scratch his neck, heat flooding to his cheeks as he brings his eyes up to yours. you carefully unwrap the gift, taking the top of the box off and gasping at what lays beneath.

“katsuki, this is beautiful.” you say in awe, gently pushing back the wrapping and taking the rose gold necklace out. there was a small heart on the thin chain, and you gingerly touch it, eyes filling with tears.

“i know i’m not, like, the best at all of this stuff. but i promise i’m trying! i just—well, you deserve so much, and—“

“oh kats,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and cupping his jaw with one hand, necklace dangling in the other. “i love you so much, my sweet boy.”

a big beautiful grin splits his face, his eyes shining as he dips his forehead to rest on your own. “i love you too, my beautiful girl.”

[amirasainz]

hooola!! absolutely love the baby alonso series and i’d love to see her playing with penelope maybe?? or one of lando’s nieces!!

hope u have a great day 🫶🫶

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

@piastappies

Best friends forever

The bustling paddock was alive with the hum of race car engines, chatter from teams, and fans eagerly seeking autographs. Amidst the energy of the Formula 1 weekend, two tiny figures stood out—Yn and Penelope.

Yn, with her sparkling pink bike that had streamers hanging off the handlebars, was busy adjusting her helmet. Penelope, on her equally dazzling sparkling purple bike, was already riding in circles, her giggles carrying through the air.

"Come on, Yn!" Penelope called, a teasing grin on her face. "You're so slow!"

Yn puffed up her cheeks in mock frustration, tightening the strap on her helmet. "I'm not slow! I just wanna make sure my helmet is perfect! Safety first, P!"

Penelope stopped her bike and crossed her arms dramatically. "We’re in the paddock, silly. No cars are gonna hit us!"

Yn finally climbed onto her bike, wobbling for a moment before finding her balance. "Fine! But you're not gonna win the race!" she said with determination, pedaling furiously to catch up.

The two girls zipped past team garages, their bikes glittering under the sun, leaving a trail of laughter behind them. Engineers paused to watch, some waving and smiling, others snapping quick photos of the adorable sight.

"Careful, girls!" Charles called out, leaning against a garage wall with a cup of coffee.

"We’re being careful!" Penelope yelled back, her voice high-pitched and confident.

"Yeah!" Yn chimed in. "We’re super fast, like Max and Fernando!"

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, just don’t beat them in qualifying, okay?"

The girls burst into laughter, though neither truly understood what qualifying was.

---

Later, Yn and Penelope decided to ditch their bikes and explore on foot. Hand-in-hand, they skipped down the paddock, their little sneakers slapping against the ground in perfect rhythm.

"We should go see the snacks table!" Penelope suggested, her eyes sparkling.

"Snacks!" Yn cheered. "I hope they have gummy bears. And cookies!"

As they approached the Red Bull hospitality, Max was leaning on a railing, chatting with Sergio. He spotted the duo and immediately straightened up, his tough demeanor softening into a wide grin.

"Hey, what are you two up to now?" Max asked, crouching down to their level.

"Snacks!" Penelope declared with a triumphant fist in the air.

Yn nodded eagerly. "Gummy bears!"

Max laughed. "Ah, I see. Well, the snacks are this way, but no eating too much, okay? I need Penelope to cheer for me later, not fall asleep!"

"I’m gonna cheer for Yn’s dad too!" Penelope said proudly, looking at Yn.

"Me too!" Yn added, squeezing Penelope’s hand.

Max ruffled Penelope's hair, a rare, tender smile on his face. "Good girls. Now go on, and don’t cause too much trouble."

---

The next stop on their grand paddock adventure was Fernando’s garage. The two girls peeked in cautiously before scampering inside. Fernando was sitting on a stool, studying data on a screen, but the moment he saw the two tiny intruders, his face lit up.

"Ah, mis pequeñas amigas!" Fernando exclaimed, opening his arms wide.

Yn ran straight to him, throwing her arms around his leg. "Papa! We’re having the best day ever!"

Fernando chuckled, scooping Yn up onto his lap. "I can see that. And Penelope, are you taking good care of my little one?"

Penelope nodded solemnly. "Of course. We’re best friends!"

"Bestest friends!" Yn echoed, reaching out to hold Penelope’s hand again.

Fernando looked at them with soft eyes. "You know, seeing you two like this reminds me of why we do all this. It’s not just about winning—it’s about family and having fun."

"Does that mean you’ll let us ride your car next time?" Penelope asked, her face completely serious.

Fernando laughed heartily. "Not quite, pequeña, but maybe one day."

---

As the day wore on, Yn and Penelope found new ways to entertain themselves. They drew with chalk on the pavement, leaving colorful hearts and stars for everyone to see. They played hide-and-seek around the motorhomes, with Lando and George willingly pretending not to see their bright clothes sticking out from behind crates.

At one point, the two girls sat on a patch of grass, sharing a juice box they had "borrowed" from the hospitality.

"Do you think we’ll ever drive like our dads?" Yn asked, her face thoughtful.

Penelope tilted her head. "I think so. But only if the cars are purple and pink."

Yn nodded solemnly. "Definitely."

---

By the time the sun began to set, the paddock had grown quieter, but the two girls were still full of energy. They convinced Max and Fernando to sit down with them for one last activity: a tea party.

Fernando looked hilariously out of place, holding a tiny plastic teacup between his large fingers, while Max did his best to balance a tiara Penelope had insisted he wear.

"More tea, sir?" Yn asked in an exaggerated posh accent, holding out an empty teapot.

"Why, thank you, madam," Fernando replied, playing along with a dramatic bow of his head.

Max sighed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. "This tea is excellent, Penelope. Did you make it yourself?"

Penelope giggled. "It’s pretend, Papa!"

"Ah, of course," Max said, nodding seriously.

---

As the day came to an end, Yn and Penelope finally started to tire, their eyes drooping as they sat on a bench together, wrapped in a shared blanket.

Fernando and Max watched from a distance, their competitive natures completely set aside as they admired their daughters.

"They really are something, aren’t they?" Fernando said quietly.

Max nodded, a rare softness in his gaze. "Yeah. Makes you realize what really matters."

The two girls held hands even in their sleep, their innocent friendship a bright light in the often chaotic world of Formula 1.

[jybyls]

First time || Jinx

Masterlist

Request by anonymous here

Warnings: smut, soft sex, virgin!Jinx, virgin!reader, fingering (r receiving), not proofread, bad writing, and I think that's it.

Words: 1.9k

- 📜🎧🍂 -

"You're so pretty." Jinx mumbled against your neck as you put her hair behind her ear. You hummed, smiling down at her while her lips were travelling down your body. You shirt wad already on the floor, leaving you in sweatpants and a bra. On the other hand, Jinx was still fully dressed. Your hands made their way down her top, slowly caressing her back, which made her shiver under your gentle touch. You didn't want to rush or make her feel pressured to do anything, so you always made sure to keep your touch loving and comforting with her.

"Can I ?" You whispered as your fingers traced random shapes on her shirt. The simple question was enough to make her stomach do a flip. She was still getting used to being asked for consent or opinion on random things. She eventually nodded, "Yeah, you can. I mean, you're already shirtless. It's only fair that way, right, toots ?" She rambled. You could tell she was slightly nervous, so you didn't waste a second to reassure her, "This isn't about fairness. It's about you being comfortable with this, love." You tenderly explained, a hand on her cheek, softly caressing her reddened skin. She nodded again, slowly but surely understanding the situation. You kiss her nose to bring her attention back on you, "So ? What's your answer, baby ?" You murmured.

She suddenly kissed you and quickly pulled away, barely giving you any time to process what just happened, "The answer is yes." She said. Her lips inches away from yours. You nodded, letting your hands go underneath her top, unhurriedly taking it off. Her breath hitched at the cool air, hitting her now bare skin. You were mesmerised by the sight in front of you, your brain could barely think straight but you rapidly remembered who you had before you -a broken soul who needs constant reassurance- so you did your job, "You're stunning, Jinx. It's absolutely stunning." Your voice was full of adoration. The blue haired girl could only believe your words. A smile appeared on her face, and her eyes filled up with stars while looking into your fond ones. No words were spoken, but you both understood the other one's need and leaned into the most passionate kiss you've ever shared.

Your lips moved. I'm synchronisation as her tongue asks for entrance, which you gladly gave. Your tongues are now dancing with each other. The kiss was slow yet heated, hands roaming around every inch of your bodies like you guys were making sure to never forget what your partner's body looked like. The need and desire you were feeling towards one another was basically palpable, and you both definitely knew where this make-out session was going.

Her lips left yours, founding their place back on your neck as her hands went to your back to open your bra but nit before asking for permission that you happily gave. Her fingers quickly unhooked your bra without any problem. You gasped at her efficacy, which, of course, busted her ego. She smirked, taking your bra off to throw it somewhere in her room. Her eyes fell on your breasts, "Oh wow. Didn't know you were hiding all that under your clothes, baby." The rasp in her voice came out strongly, making you melt. Your cheeks reddened at her comment. It made you feel confident, but you couldn't help but ask, "You like it ?" You mumbled, feeling insecure. Jinx's eyes widened, "Like it ?! I love it ! You're gorgeous, toots. Wanna workship you, to be honest." The last past of her sentence came out as a whisper.

"Workship me ? Yeah, you can do that. Only if I get to workship you back ?" You smiled, and she nodded. Her lips found your neck again, going down to your cleavage. She took your time before going further and kissing between your breasts. You breathed heavily but tried to keep it steady. Jinx noticed your irregular breath, so she put her hand on where your heart was and helped you breathe more steadily. "You're safe. Don't worry, doll." She whispered, her lips making their way to your breast. She held your hand, interviewing your hands together when she kissed around your breast and then sucking on your nipple. You let out a soft moan of her name, which indicated her she was doing. She was proud and aroused at the same time. She could already tell this was her favourite sound. She gave attention to both your breasts, massaging the one she wasn't sucking on, eventually leaving small hickeys. You whimpered and moaned each time her lips touched your nipples, you couldn't get enough, and you wanted more of her.

"Jinx..." Your hips shyly jerked, she smirked, "Yes, toots ?" She answered while kissing your abdomen that contracted to the feeling of her lips. She didn't help your state when her hand left your breast to caress your side. You shivered under her touch, only then did you remember to answer her question. "Can we go further ?" You murmured, feeling slightly ashamed for some reasons. Jinx smiled up at you, "I'm ready to go further. Are you ?" You immediately nodded, and a 'yes' quickly left your mouth.

She pecked your lips, her hand leaving yours to undo your pants, your hands instinctively did the same with hers. Now both your pants are off, and your girlfriend didn't wait a second to love on your thighs, proudly smiling at the wet patch on your panties. She was glad you couldn't see how wet she was because she wanted to keep her pride, even if it wouldn't last long. She kissed your legs as you caressed her hair. Her mouth found your panties, looking up at you to make sure you weren't uncomfortable. And you weren't. You were getting impatient because of how painful the pool between in your panties felt.

She understood the message and took your panties off. Her breath hitched at the view of your bare pussy, "God... so pretty. You're absolutely perfect, my love." She praised, "Can I ?" You blushed at her words and nodded, "Yes, you can. Please." You begged and obviously Jinx gave in. She kissed your inner thighs then your clit, your body trembled, you moaned her name. "Feels good ?" She whispered. She was worried she wouldn't be able to make you feel good since she never done this before. "Yeah, you can keep going, darling." You panted, she nodded. She licked up your folds and kissed your clit again, you moaned and your legs shook. She couldn't get enough of your reaction so she kept going.

She sucked on your clit with precautions, her hand massaging your thigh, the other one back into yours, your hand never left her hair. "Should I put a finger in ?" She wondered, you hesitatingly nodded. You've only felt your own fingers inside of you so you were scared, however you wanted to take this step with your lover. "Yes, you should." You murmured, she came up to you to kiss your lips then sweetly smiled at you, "I'll try my best." She whispered, "I'm sure you'll do great." Your hands enveloped her face. You felt her finger going up your folds, leading you to tremble, she massaged your clit in circular motion as she slowly went in. Your walls felt tight our her finger, a gasp came out of your mouth to the feeling of her inside you, she didn't dare to move until you gave her the go and that didn't take long for you to give it to her.

She started moving her finger, she made sure to hit every spot inside of you, her eyes glued to yours not to miss any of yours reaction so she's know when she hit the that spot. She was steadily stirred, listening to your little moans and whimpered that made her ears go red. She felt herself getting wetter, but she brushed the thought away to focus on you and only you. Jinx's finger curled against your gummy walls it sent a shot of pleasure through your body, one that you've never felt before, your back arched with your mouth leaving a moan of her name. Her pupils went darker of lust. She wanted to give you more without overstepping your boundaries.

"Do, um, do you want me to add a finger ?" She unsurely asked, scared of your reaction. However, you were so lost in bliss that you couldn't even think straight. You eagerly nodded and only wanted to feel more of her. Jinx smiled and gently rubbed her other finger against your folds before entering your tight cunt. You moaned out loud, you've never felt so full in your entire but, gosh, it felt so good. "Jinx, fuck, you can go faster." You had a time forming a sentence but thankfully your girlfriend understood your will and obeyed. She went faster and it was so immediate you saw stars within the second.

"Like that, baby ?" She kissed your jaw, teasing you because she knew you liked what she was doing, and it was only busting her ego, "Yeah, keep going, love." You panted, your back arching when you felt her fingers curling, touching your g-spot. A lusty moan came out of your mouth as you felt the heat in your stomach getting stronger. Your walls tightened around Jinx's fingers, which made her groan. The whole time she tried to keep her noises down but she never succeeded, the sight fo you in such deep pleasure in front of her was too much for her to stay quiet, leaving small moans, sighs and whimpers. She took the time to praise you every now, and then when she felt your walls tightening around her, she understood you were close.

She caressed your tummy, "It's okay, toots, let go. Trust me." She gently whispered, her lips ghosting yours, keeping her mouvement steady so you'd get your release soon. And soon you got it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you held into her arms, your body trembling in pleasure when your orgasm hit you. And it hit you like a train. You uncontrollably shook under her from your first orgasm given by someone else. It was so much more intense than all the orgasms you've had by yourself and you weren't complaining because, fuck did it feel good.

Jinx held you against her, kissing your head as she murmured sweet words into your ear until you calmed down. She was so incredibly proud that she made you come undone around her fingers. She couldn't live that moment down. She looked at you with so much love and care. Her pink eyes never looked so warm. Your reaction was impossibly endearing to her she wanted to see it again and again and again, but at the same time, she didn't want to overwhelm you. She was too lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear you talking.

"Jinx, baby ? Are you still with me ?" Your breath was irregular as you spoke, a small giggle leaving your mouth. Jinx shook her head to focus back on you, "Yeah, of course, I'm here, toots." And here she was, everything was so quiet, everything was always so quiet when you were here. No voices, no bad thoughts, nothing. Just you and her against the world. "Did you hear what I said, hun ?" You asked, your hand caressing her cheek, "Nah, your body distracted me." She answered with a cheeky tone that made you blush. You smiled and repeated yourself, "I said do you wanna go next ?" You whispered. She didn't know how to react because she didn't know if she wanted to go next. But she did. She agreed, letting you take care of her. She trusted you with her body.

The night was eventful but unbelievably romantic.

- 📜🎧🍂 -

A/n: Here's my Christmas gift for y'all :) Love you <33

[crtter]

I added a shortened version of this on tags but I think it’s better as a full comment: People who are fighting in the notes. Please. The point of OP’s post isn't that Polish people aren't allowed to be mad to be mistaken for German or Russian because they’ve been both under German and Russian occupation. The point is that a LOT of people who take offense with their country being mistaken for countries they’ve historically been at odds with don’t find it an issue when the same thing is done to people from Asian and African countries.

Like, as any European knows very well, just because countries are geographically close to each other, might have some overlapping cultural aspects and sometimes even speak the same language, it doesn’t mean they haven’t clashed against each other in the past and insisting that people are “just the same” as people who have historically oppressed them just due to proximity and (sometimes just perceived) cultural similarities is equally as tone-deaf, no matter which country or continent we’re talking about.

For example, westerners often confuse or lump China, Korea and Japan together under having similar cuisines, culture, etc. to the point where “Asian restaurants” are a thing. But both China and Korea were colonized by the Japanese during its colonial empire era, and it’s a sensitive topic in all three of those countries to this day. People of Korean descent born in Japan couldn’t both be registered under Korean names and have Japanese citizenship until 1987. That’s the same year Dirty Dancing was in theaters. The same year Whitney Houston released I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me).

Similarly, Africa is very, very often thought and spoken of as a “country” instead of a continent with a single culture and identity, when it’s actually comprised of 54 different countries and around 3000 different ethnic groups. If you tell, for example, a Somali person that they’re indistinguishable from Ethiopians to you, they’re very likely not going to be very pleased as Somalia and Ethiopia have clashed over Ethiopian expansion over Somali territory since the 12th century! The last time there has been armed conflict over it? 2006. In 2006, you could already have Twitter and Facebook accounts and play games on the Nintendo Wii.

I’m not saying you have to know the historical relationships between every single country and cultural/religious/ethnic group in the world. Just be, like, sensible. If the thought of your country or an identity of yours being dismissed as being “the same thing” as a people who have oppressed, waged wars against or interacted in any violent manner towards your ancestors or you upsets you, just know that people feel the same all over the world. If you want to talk about some cultural element that you know comes from a place in a certain continent but not the exact country, look it up. Do a bit of research. Does it take more effort than to generalize? Of course. But if being considerate was completely effortless, there wouldn’t be nearly as many assholes in the world.

Good double feature here

[stxrslutrestored]

BE STILL

pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader

summary; rafe works a lot, and you need a lot, that means sometimes you have to come to a compromise 

content; ddlg dynamics, subspace, slight dry humping, cockwarming, female masturbation

authors note; lowkey I rushed the ending but I wanted to have at least one new full blurb out on each of my blogs

rafe is working in his office, doing some pointless admin work on his laptop that he claims is crucial, you know it’s not.

all day you’ve been huffing and puffing. hot and bothered, unable to calm yourself down. you need to be taken care of. you’d told rafe as much but all he’d done is promised you that he would later. you don’t want it to be later. 

it’s about midday when you decide enough is enough and go to see rafe. your mind is already starting to go fuzzy and you fear you won’t be able to stay stable by yourself. you pad down the hallway in your bare feet towards his home office. 

he doesnt turn back when you walk through the door, approaching from behind. you go up to him and he swivels his chair round momentarily, letting you climb into his lap and straddle him. you immediately cuddle up as he turns back to face the desk. 

you sit in silence for a moment before he speaks “what’chu doin’ up here huh?” he murmurs, still working around you, fingers tapping away at his keyboard. 

you bury your face in his chest “need you rafe.” you tell him, “need to stop thinkin’ please.” you say. 

rafe nods, rubbing your back with a free hand for a moment, “thought I told you to wait for that baby? don’t remember that?” he asks, still not looking. 

you whine, “can’t wait daddy.” you tell him, “just can’t wait. tried so hard but… but need you daddy.” you look up with your best wide eyes, needing him to take care of you right now. you notice that you’re absentmindedly starting to grind forward, your crotch starting to rub up just a bit against his. 

he sighs, “you really can’t wait huh?” you shake your head, affirming his question. he sighs again and then nods, “I’ll take care of you baby.” he tells you, “but gotta let me finish my work. gonna sit n’ be nice an’ quiet for me okay?” 

“okay,” you nod, feeling immense relief as you finally let your thoughts begin to melt away. you’re grinding on him now, weakly, but surely you are. his hand comes to your back to support you for a couple of seconds. 

“wanna kiss. c’mere real quick, yeah?” you immediately comply, starting to suck on his bottom lip with great vigor. he kisses back for a little bit before slipping his thumb into your mouth and pulling you away. “gonna sit on dad’s cock now. yeah? but gotta be real still.” 

barely registering his words you move back, ketting him undo his fly and then pull your panties down from under your short skirt. he takes you by the hips and brings you forward, gently lowering you onto his cock. 

you whimper at the stretch, it stings just a little but you quickly get settled. the first few seconds are okay, because you normally don’t move to start with anyway. but after those seconds pass it starts to feel weird. you have the urge to squirm around and stimulate yourself but the moment you even make a hint of a movement he stops you and murmurs “be still.” 

you whine, “dad,” you fall into his chest, propping your head up on hsi shoulder, “lemme cum first please.” you ask him, “gonna be still after that daddy. promise.” 

rafe shakes his head, “why don’t you rub that little clit of yours, then. can make yourself feel good on daddy’s cock by yourself, but I aint doing any work until later.” you huff at that response, but mind ever so cloudy, you decide to do it anyway. 

your hand snakes down to where your pussy is wrapped around rafe’s cock, you start to rub little circles. while it’s exhausting and irritating at first, it eventually feels good, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling. 

rafe may be a busy guy, and sure he doesn’t take care fo you in the most conventional way. but really, you wouldn’t wish to be doing anything else right now. 

[cupidhoons]

+1 new notification from cupidhoons

( 엔하이픈 ) ─── PRESENTS ⟡ how boyfriend! enhypen would react to you saying that you're their present

enhypen x separate! reader

fluff ⋅ 6OO

n. merry christmas eve to you all 😼

HEESEUNG would definitely be amused. He would look at you with confusion when you suddenly appear in the living room in front of him with wrapping paper around your body, and then would just laugh at how silly you look—but he'd be so sweet about it.

“You’re saying you’re the best present? Not going to argue with that,” he says, pulling you into a warm hug. “But does this mean I can keep unwrapping you forever?”

JAY would be extremely cocky. So cocky, in fact he even claims that he “doesn't need” the rest of the gifts he received from everyone else, just you. He definitely teases you afterwards too, calling you “my gift” for the rest of the day.

“Oh, so you’re my big present, huh?” he says teasingly, raising an eyebrow. He leans in, wispering to you in a hushed voice, “could my gift give me a kiss by any chance?”

JAKE would burst out into giggles. His eyes would twinkle in amusement and adoration for you when you enter the room. But, as much as he giggles, he would be so touched and would want to spend time with you the rest of the day at home.

“Aww, that’s so cheesy, but I love it,” he says. He pulls you into a long, tight, hug as he showers you with kisses, saying “Best. Gift. Ever,” between them.

SUNGHOON would try so hard to be nonchalant, only giving you a small smirk and making teasing remarks about the way you wrapped yourself in gift paper. Though, as much as he teases, he secretly enjoys it, and you would catch him cheesing over you from afar.

“Is that so? Lucky me.” he says with a smirk, acting as though his ears weren't turning pink. But, eventually, he'd pull you close and mutter, “I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

SUNOO would act dramatic when you reveal the big surprise. He'd gasp and put a hand over his mouth while you stood in front of him. You would see the way his eyes sparkle as he pretends to inspect you like an actual gift.

“You’re my present?! I must be the luckiest person alive!” he says with a playful sparkle in his eyes. He pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek. “You really are the best present I could ask for.”

JUNGWON would simply let out a small laugh. He would laugh, but his eyes would twinkle with full love and affection when you enter the room. His dimples would come out and he would be smiling so hard to the point where it hurts. He feels like he fell in love one hundred times harder than before.

“You really know how to make me smile,” he says, shaking his head in amusement. He gently takes your hands and says, “If you’re my present, then I’ll take care of you like the most important thing I have.”

RIKI would act cool about it, like he doesn't even care. His cool demeanor would be so annoying to the point where you just wanna smack that dumb look off his face when you see it. Though, the whole demeanor doesn't last very long, as he eventually caves in and confesses that you're the best present he got.

“Oh, so you’re my present? That’s kind of bold of you,” he says teasingly. He looks at you for a good 10 seconds before breaking in to a grin, giggling to himself how cute you are. “Okay, fine. Best present ever. Can I open this gift now?”

[azzifuddslover]

UNRAVEL — chapter one

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

trope: best friends to lovers

tw: light swearing, think that’s all

themes: fluff

word count: 4.8k

a/n: my second series YAY! i absolutely adore reading best friends to lovers, it’s honestly my favorite trope, so i figured i’d make one of my own. i love this so far lowkey, they’re my literal babies 😭 also merry christmas to those who celebrate! please lemme know how u like it, and if i should continue. enjoy my pookies 𝜗𝜚

the gym echoes with the sound of squeaky sneakers and the rhythmic bounce of basketballs. it was the first day of USA basketball tryouts, and azzi felt a rush of excitement and anxiety as she stands silently in the corner, watching other girls around her age begin to fill in the open room. some began to practice shooting to pass time. at 14, she was nervous yet determined to make the team.

once all the young girls make their way into the gym, azzi scans the room, curious to know if she recognizes anyone. when she comes up with no familiar faces, she begins fiddling with her own fingers, her nerves becoming more evident. she absolutely hates doing new things alone, especially something as scary as this.

“let’s go ladies! time to get warmed up!” the coach announces his presence, a clipboard in his hands.

azzi, along with the other girls, form a line, starting to stretch out their limbs. her eyes dance over her future teammates, but when she makes swift eye contact a tall blonde unintentionally, she tears her eyes away, focusing on the ground instead.

warm ups quickly end; the girls break into teams of five, bustling with energy. azzi stands a little off to the side, watching everyone find their friends and form tight-knit circles. she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, feeling the familiar pang of anxiety in her stomach. she feels out of place, unsure if she really belongs here.

just as she contemplates stepping away, she notices the blonde she made eye contact with earlier lingering nearby, alone, like herself. the blue eyed blonde takes a steady, deep breath before wryly approaching the curly headed brunette.

her expression is friendly but obviously hesitant, maybe slightly shy as well. “hey, um.. do you have a group?”

azzi’s heart races in her chest, heat covering her cheeks as embarrassment sets in. “no, not yet. do you?”

the blonde’s face lights up just a tad, although her nerves are still apparent. “not yet. i was wondering if.. you wanna be in mine? not that i have one, but we can find one together..?”

azzi feels a rush of relief as any lingering nerves in her stomach instantly settle. “i’d love that.”

“great! i’m paige, by the way,” the blonde, paige, says, a wide smile appearing on her face.

“azzi,” the brunette replies, matching paige’s grin with one of her own.

as they walk together, navigating their way through the crowd of girls, paige steals glances at azzi’s frame, a mix admiration and awe in her eyes. she’s possibly one of the most beautiful girls she’s ever laid eyes on.

“i’m so nervous,” azzi whispers, a soft, stressed smile tugging at her lips.

paige chuckles lightly, “same here. it’s hard not to feel a bit overwhelmed with all of these girls who seem to know each other already.”

“right?” azzi replies, her gaze drifting to the formed teams, “i just wanna make a good impression.”

paige turns to azzi, “you totally will!” she reassures her, nudging her gently. “you just gotta remember we’re all trying to figure this out together. everyone’s nervous,” she wears a soft grin. “i’m sure you’ll be just fine— i saw your warm ups, you got some serious skills.”

a noticeable blush covers azzi’s cheeks at paige’s kind words. “thank you, that means a lot.”

paige’s lips tug into a wider smirk at azzi’s red face. shortly after, the pair finds a spot in a group with only three players, finally forming a group of five. the other girls greet paige and azzi warmly.

“alright, let’s get this started!” the head coach shouts, shutting down any side conversations the players were having. “we’ll start we 5v5s, then finish with a scrimmage.”

as each player in their small team break into their desired positions, paige throws yet another quick glance at the brunette she’s quickly growing fond of. she already feels a connection between them— like they’re meant to be friends.

only a couple minutes into the 5v5, azzi becomes highly aware of the kind of player paige is. a selfless passer, always willing to give up the ball to an open teammate in the corner, now including herself. but it’s not just her passing that sticks out to azzi— no, it’s the effortless shots she doesn’t hesitate to take that almost always goes in. it doesn’t matter where she’s positioned— whether it be the 3 point line, midrange, or a simple layup, it always swishes through the net.

as azzi digests paige’s skill set, paige takes in the curly headed brunette’s at the same time, in a similar state of awe. her 3 point shooting ability was undeniably impressive; she swears she never seems to miss. everytime she’d pass the ball to an open azzi in the corner, she had full confidence it’d go in, she didn’t even bother to look. she was that good.

the short 5v5 match comes to a close, leaving azzi feeling more herself, more comfortable and confident in her abilities. paige feels good about her performance, too, but more so in azzi’s.

“holy shit, you were so good out there!” paige exclaims once they’re allowed a short break for water.

azzi lets out an airy laugh, clearly out of breath from the previous 5v5. “thank you, so were you.”

paige shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “i mean it, i’ve never seen anyone hit so many threes in a row. what was it, like six?”

azzi feels a sudden rush of pride at paige’s words. “more like five, but i get what you’re saying. thanks again.” azzi takes a swig from her water bottle, “it really helps when i have someone like you passing me the ball.”

the corners of paige’s lips quirk up as an unrecognizable feeling travels throughout her chest. “i guess we make a pretty good team.”

azzi tries to hide her smile, but ultimately fails. “i guess so.”

paige glances at the ground, fidgeting with the water bottle in her hands. “i was so nervous to come here, genuinely. i try to appear as confident as possible, but on the inside i’m an anxious wreck.”

azzi smiles in a reassuring manner as she suddenly reaches out, gently patting paige’s arm to somewhat comfort the girl in front of her. “i understand. i was nervous too, until you talked to me, that is.”

paige beams at azzi’s comment. “really?” when the brunette nods, she continues, “i’m glad i approached you then. it’s nice to know i’m not the only one feeling this way.”

azzi feels the connection between the two of them deepen as they share a vulnerable moment. “i think we all put on a brave, tough act, but it’s always nice to find someone who gets it.”

“exactly!” paige says, her excitement bubbling over. “i’m so glad we’re on the same team. you’ve made this whole experience way more enjoyable.”

azzi’s cheeks grow warm at the sincerity of the blonde’s choice of words. “me too. i don’t think i could’ve done this without you.”

now it was paige’s turn to blush— way more pigmented than azzi’s, that is. paige turns her gaze away from the curly brunette’s, desperately trying to hide her inflamed cheeks.

the two girls continue to chat, discussing their high school teams and other random interests outside of basketball. paige already knows, with time, azzi has the potential to become the best friend she’s never had.

paige and azzi’s conversation quickly fades away once the head coach orders them to break into two large groups, in preparation for the scrimmage. paige doesn’t hesitate to stay rooted besides azzi, keeping their distance close to indicate they’re on a team together.

the players surrounding them occasionally brush into the pair, separating them more and more. it isn’t until azzi rushes over to the older girl, gently gripping her forearm, mere inches away from her hand, that they get placed into a team together. paige feels instant sparks scramble within her chest at azzi’s touch— she’s brave enough to move her hand, grabbing azzi’s hand with her own, yet not interlacing their fingers— just letting her know she’s here.

the coach blows the whistle, signaling for everyone to get settled. as the two teams are finalized, paige and azzi find themselves on the same side, as expected but still, relief washing over the two girls.

the coach picks a starting five from the opposing team first, choosing the obvious top players with the highest skill sets out of everyone there. the coach then makes his way to paige and azzi’s team, scanning the girls one by one.

“aliyah, cameron, azzi, paige, caitlin,” he voices before turning around, casually walking to the side.

paige turns her head to look at azzi, who seems equally as shocked, but pleased with his picks. anxiety floods the brunette’s features— out of everyone on the team, he chooses her? she couldn’t believe it.

“we got this,” paige nods at azzi, reassuring the younger girl, “you got this.”

azzi hesitates, but shares the nod, trying to mask her nervousness with a quiet pride expression.

once the scrimmage starts up, the atmosphere shifts. the gym fills with the sound of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floor, and the shouts of encouragement from teammates. paige feels a rush of adrenaline, her confidence bolstered by azzi’s presence.

throughout the game, they fall into a rhythm, passing the basketball back and forth with ease. azzi’s sharp shooting is as impressive as ever, landing each 3 pointer with precision, while paige’s passes are spot on, giving azzi the chance to shine. they communicate seamlessly, each play reflecting their undeniable chemistry.

as the scrimmage progresses, the score tightens, and both of the two teams push harder. paige spots azzi’s competitive spirit ignite, only fueling her own drive. with every successful shot and assist, they exchange swift glances filled with passion and excitement.

eventually, the whistle blows, indicating the end of the scrimmage. both teams gather for a quick huddle, breathing heavily but exhilarated.

“nice work everyone!” the head coach praises, “you all showed fantastic teamwork out there.”

paige turns her body to azzi, her heart racing, not just from the game, but also from the connection they’ve built in such a short period of time. “damn, we really do work good together.”

“i know, right?” azzi smiles, exposing her dimples on each one of her cheeks.

the girls begin packing up their bags, stuffing their now empty water bottles in the pockets. paige’s gaze shifts to the brunette’s, then back at her bag, then once again, back to azzi.

azzi quickly notices paige’s wandering eyes, “everything okay?”

paige’s eyes widen, embarrassed of her previous actions. “yeah, sorry. i was wondering if i could get your number, though? just so we can keep in touch throughout the tryouts, y’know.”

azzi swears her heart skips a beat at the request, a gentle smile spreading across her face. “is this your way of asking me out on a date?”

paige is taken aback at azzi’s comment, her cheeks becoming noticeably red. “what— no, that’s not—“

azzi nudges her shoulder, letting out a laugh at her reaction. “i’m only kidding, paige. of course i’ll give it to you. i’d love that.”

paige shuts her eyes, embarrassment still lingering, yet she pulls out her phone. azzi masks the older girl’s movement, taking her own phone out as well.

azzi hands paige her phone, to which she punches in the brunette’s number, labeling her in her personal contact list. as she hands the phone back, their fingers brush, the moment growing electric.

the two throw their own bags over their shoulders, barely making any movements to leave quite yet. azzi feels a ding come from her phone— it’s a text message from her mother, katie, letting her know they might be a couple minutes late to pick her up.

azzi lets out a groan, loud enough for the blonde beside her to hear. paige glances at azzi, curious as to what’s got her frustrated.

“what? everything good?” paige asks.

azzi meets her gaze, “my parents are gonna be late. i have nothing to do besides sit here for like, 20 minutes.”

paige scrunches her eyebrows, feeling slightly bad for the brunette. an idea forms in paige’s head, not bothering to think about her own mother waiting outside to pick her up.

paige suddenly reaches for azzi’s hand, interlocking their fingers and tugging her towards the gym door.

“um, where are you taking me?”

a grin tugs at paige’s lips, excitement glistening in her bright blue eyes. “just trust me, will you?”

“not like i just met you,” azzi mutters, although its laced with sarcasm. surprisedly, azzi’s trust for paige grows every minute she’s with her.

walking out the door, into the chilly weather with a slight breeze, paige’s grip on azzi’s hand remains tight and secure. she spots her mother’s car, noticing a confused expression on her face— she holds up her finger, telling her one minute, although she has no intentions of leaving azzi alone until her parents arrive.

she leads the younger girl into a nearby smoothie shop, dropping into an open table, hinting for azzi to take the spot in front of her.

as the two girls settle in their chairs, directly facing each other, the hum of the smoothie shop surrounds them, blending with the chatter of other customers. azzi glances around, intrigued at the colorful menu board. “okay, i’m curious. why’d you take me here?”

paige leans back, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “i just discovered this place the other day, their smoothies are so good. and plus i figured i’d wait with you until your parents get here.”

a faint blush covers the brunette’s cheeks, which she quickly hides with her hands. “thanks, that’s really sweet of you.”

“anytime,” paige beams. “do you want anything? i know i do.”

“oh, i don’t have any money with me,” azzi shrugs.

paige’s lips form a line, “no worries, it’s on me. now, what do you want?”

azzi’s face breaks out into a huge grin, exposing her dimples once again. the blonde masks her expression, wearing a grin of her own at the sight of azzi’s cute dimples. as she scans the menu, paige takes the time to really look at azzi. god, she’s unreal. her soft, brown curls pulled into a bun, brown, wandering eyes paired with long lashes, deep dimples paige already adores. her heart races at her beauty.

“i’ll take the pineapple one,” azzi announces, “thank you, paige. really,” she adds, gratefully.

paige simply nods, then walks up to the counter to order their smoothies. only a minute later, she brings them back to the table, setting azzi’s pineapple one in front of her.

azzi takes a long sip, followed by another when she realizes she really enjoys the taste. paige does the same with her own strawberry banana, downing half the drink.

“you’re right, they are really good,” azzi agrees as she shallows.

“told you so,” paige says, taking another fast swig.

the girls silently sit there, making no effort to converse. “so, do you think you’ll make the team?” azzi questions the older girl, eventually breaking the comfort silence.

paige shrugs, “i mean, i think i have a good chance. you’ll definitely make it, though.”

azzi’s heart quickens in her chest, beating at an erratic pace. “you’ll make it. do you have any idea how good you are?”

paige bites back a grin, avoiding eye contact with the younger girl. “stop gettin’ soft on me.”

azzi rolls her eyes at the blondes comment, “i mean it, though. i’ve never seen anyone with the ability to pass as perfect as you.”

pink floods paige’s cheeks, warmth spreading throughout her body. “look in the mirror, azzi. your form is literally textbook perfect.”

azzi chuckles, a mix of embarrassment and pride flooding her. “thanks. that means a lot coming from you.”

paige nods before taking another sip of her fruity smoothie. “so, what do you do outside of basketball?”

the two girls fall into a flowing conversation, discussing anything but basketball— getting to know each other better. they share laughs and wide grins as the conversation develops.

paige feels weird— she cannot understand how quickly azzi and her have bonded over such a short period of time. she feels like she’s known her forever.

azzi’s phone vibrates mid laugh; it’s a text from her mom, saying she’s here.

“my moms here,” azzi says, gaze lingering on paige’s figure. a wave of sadness floods her features— she’s sort of wishing she could stay here longer, with paige.

“oh, alright,” paige nods, sharing a similar disappointment. she stands with azzi, pulls on her backpack, and moves for the door.

the wind has pickin’ up, causing goosebumps to form on both young girls arms.

“see you tomorrow?”

“duh,” azzi replies, an effortless smirk appearing on her face. she waves paige goodbye, before heading around the corner to where her mom is parked, waiting for her.

paige watches azzi leave, the lingering flash of sadness noticeable on her face. she begins walking over to her mom, her steps slow but steady.

she greets her mother with a quick smile, setting down her backpack.

“who was that?” her mom questions, her tone light.

“a girl i met at tryouts,” she doesn’t bother to hide her beam, “she’s so cool, i swear. she’s so good at basketball, too. i’ve never seen anyone hit so many threes.”

paige rants on and on about azzi, talking about her impressive basketball skills and about how they clicked so instantly.

paige eyes her mom’s knowing smile, to which she scrunches her eyebrows down. “what?”

“you really like her, don’t you?”

paige’s eyes widen at the comment, “i mean, yeah, she’s my friend. but if you mean like that, then no.”

paige’s mother, amy, pulls her lips into a line, clearly not believing her daughter, although she doesn’t push.

the entire car ride home, paige has yet to stop thinking about azzi. her excitement about seeing her tomorrow basically buzzes off her, it’s that strong. she contemplates texting the brunette, but shuts that thought down immediately, considering it’s only been ten minutes.

back at paige’s house, in her room, she lays silently on her comfortable bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. azzi continues to linger within her mind— she eventually decides to text her, in hopes to settle the obsessive thoughts.

hey azzi, she types and sends quickly, without the chance to overthink her words.

a minute passes with no response— paige bites at her nails, an anxious habit of hers. her phone buzzes with a text message from, of course, azzi.

hi paige!! azzi’s text reads. paige’s lips tug into a small smile.

what are u up to?

only seconds later, azzi responds. not much, u?

same. wanna ft? paige works up the courage to ask, looking away from her phone out of fear.

three minutes pass with no answer from the brunette. just as thoughts like what if i did something wrong develop in paige’s mind, an incoming facetime call from azzi covers her screen.

the first thing paige sees is azzi, messy curls framing her face, laying in bed, looking directly into the camera.

“hey,” azzi smiles into her phone at the blonde.

“hi,” paige answers, mimicking her expression.

the two girls settle into a steady conversation, each smiling shyly at one another throughout. paige can’t help but admire azzi’s nature beauty, the way her curls fall effortlessly around her face.

“it’s so weird, i feel like i’ve known you forever,” paige announces in the middle of a collective laugh.

azzi falls silence, but her grin stays put on her face. “me too— i’ve never met anyone like you.”

heat, yet again, covers paige’s face, her heart speeding up at azzi’s soft words. “really? i feel the same way.”

azzi’s eyes sparkle with warmth. “yes, really. i mean it, too. you’re just so… genuine. i love that about you.”

paige bites her lip, both flattered and a little shy. “thanks, azzi. i appreciate that.”

they exchange more laughter, sharing stories and favorite moments about the tryouts. as the conversation flows, paige feels a growing sense of comfort, like she can be completely, undeniably herself around azzi. she hasn’t felt that way in a long time— if ever.

paige and azzi’s facetime lasts for hours on end, filled with continuous chuckles and getting to know one another. katie, azzi’s mom, eventually barges into her dark room, suggesting she heads off to bed, considering another day of tryouts is approaching.

“talk to you tomorrow,” azzi says to paige through her phone.

“talk tomorrow!” paige squeals, her excitement for the next day peaking through. she shuts off her phone after ending the facetime, her room fills with darkness and complete silent at azzi’s absence.

she lets out a quiet sigh, already missing talking with azzi, although it was only moments prior. she cannot help but feel an extreme pull towards the curly brunette— like they’re meant to meet, meant to be best friends.

throughout the night, into the next morning, paige desperately tries to ignore the warm feelings that bubble up just thinking about azzi. she distracts herself with homework, scrolling on her phone, yet nothing seems to quiet said feelings.

as the sun rises, filling her room with soft light, paige can’t shake the thought swirling in her mind. do i have a crush on azzi? she remembers back to azzi’s dimply smile, the way her laughter lit up her phone screen, how easy it is to talk to her.

before she spends another minute questioning her feelings, she forces them out of her mind, trying to focus her attention on the next day of tryouts instead.

the day both paige and azzi dreaded was finally here. the championship— the game the USA basketball team worked so desperately hard to reach. regardless of their excitement to win, the two girls couldn’t fathom leaving one another for god knows how long.

paige and azzi, over the last couple of months, have grown inseparable. the pair would spend every minute their downtime together, barely leaving one another’s side. they share laughter and secrets, bonding over late night talks and all throughout practice. the chemistry between the girls was undeniable, yet neither of them had the courage to question if it was purely friendship, or something more.

as the game approaches, paige feels a swirl of anticipation and anxiety. the team has trained so hard for this moment, yet all she could think about was what it would mean to leave azzi. after the game ends, they would be separated by hundreds of miles— azzi being in virginia and paige living in minnesota.

in the locker room before the championship game, the atmosphere buzzes with enthusiasm and energy. azzi sits down next to paige, a smile plastered on her face. for a moment, the world already them seems to fade.

“you ready for this, p?” azzi asks, her voice steady but with an underlying hint of nerves.

paige takes a deep breath, glancing at the younger girl. “ready as i’ll ever be.” she tries her best at a smile, although her sadness is evident to azzi.

azzi scrunches her eyebrows in concern for paige, “everything okay?”

“yeah, i’m good. i’m just kinda sad to leave you, y’know?”

azzi meets her gaze, her expression softening. “don’t think about that right now. let’s focus on the game first, then deal with that later, okay?”

paige bites her lips, her nerves still swirling in her stomach. she tries her best to ignore those thoughts and nods in agreement.

as soon as the championship game starts, the crowd roars, both girls feeling the weight of their training and dedication bearing down on them. every little play is a testament of their hard work, and as the minutes tick by, they find themselves in sync, communicating effortlessly on the court.

throughout the game, azzi continues to drain threes, one after another, as paige racks up assists unlike anyone else on their team.

with just seconds left on the clock, paige and azzi exchange a quick, soft glance filled with determination but also a hint of admiration for the other. the USA team is up by 30, so paige, as the point guard, dribbles the ball with no effort to move, running the clock. the buzzer goes off as the crowd erupts into cheers.

players belonging to the team rush each other, pulling one another into quick hugs, filled with laughter and pride. as azzi pats the back of aliyah, one of their teammates, in a gentle hug, she catches her favorite blonde’s eye, knowing exactly where she’s headed off to next.

the two girls approach each other, a look of longing flooding their eyes with small smirks planted on their lips. to close their distance, paige reaches out, pulling azzi by her jersey into a fierce hug that encapsulates everything they’ve shared over the past few months. azzi chuckles softly, her arms wrapping tightly around the older girl’s frame as paige nuzzles her face into azzi’s neck, breathing in her scent.

against azzi’s exposed neck, paige murmurs, “you did so well, az.”

azzi doesn’t dare to hide her growing smile, gripping paige’s shirt to keep her close. “thanks, but you were the one who really made it happen,” the brunette replies, her voice warm. “you were amazing out there.”

paige pulls back just enough to meet azzi’s line of sight, her heart swelling with pride at her meaningful compliment. “we really do make a great team.”

“couldn’t of asked for a better teammate,” azzi agrees, her genuine grin brightening even more.

as the celebration around them continues, the reality of their impending separation begins to fully sink in. their teammates cheer and take photos, while dread lingers in the two young girls stomachs for what’s to come.

azzi hasn’t left paige’s side since the championship game ended, practically binded hip to hip. she didn’t want to miss any singular moment with her best friend before they would soon separate.

the two girls were eventually forced to pack their bags, ready to head off to the airport to catch different planes. a mix of sadness and disappointment clouds their minds, not wanting to leave one another. they’ve grow so unexplainably close throughout this entire experience, that the thought of separating was heart-wrenching.

arriving at the airport, paige’s brain is still buzzing with dread at the thought of leaving her best friend behind. as she approaches azzi, her expression in a similar state, she tries her best to keep her tears at bay.

“this feels surreal,” azzi breaks the silence suffocating them, “i don’t wanna leave you.”

paige carefully sits her bag down, rushing over to the brunette she’s grown very fond of. the affectionate, touchy person she is, paige wraps her arms tightly around azzi, holding her close. “i don’t want to leave you, either.”

azzi doesn’t hesitate to hug the older girl back, her attention never wavering from paige. she feels her eyes begin to water, so she drops her head, resting it on paige’s shoulder.

paige’s heart speeds at azzi’s doing, making her want to keep the young girl close forever. eventually, however, their tight embrace comes to an end, yet azzi’s hand lingers on paige’s arm.

“please promise me we’ll stay in touch. preferably, like, everyday,” paige whispers, only loud enough for azzi to hear.

“i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a slow smile creeps onto paige’s face, yet her melancholy is still apparent. “you’re my best friend, az.”

a lone tear spills out of the corner of azzi’s eye at paige’s words. “and you’re mine,” she tugs the blonde back in for a second hug, already missing her comforting warmth.

with azzi being so close, everything around paige seems to fade away— and before she has time to consider whether this is a good idea, she presses her lips just under azzi’s ear, a soft, fleeting gesture that conveys all the unspoken words spiraling between the two.

azzi’s breath hitches in her throat, although her expression remains light, a mix of surprise and understanding. they stand there, in the airport, for a heartbeat, the weight of their connection hanging in the air. but then the airport intercom crackles to life, calling for the minnesota flight boarding, pulling them back into reality.

“guess i should get going,” paige says, her voice breathless.

azzi nods, “please take care of yourself, paige.”

the older blonde gives azzi’s hand one last squeeze, before letting go, leaving azzi behind.

as they walk towards their respective gates, each step feels heavy with the knowledge that they won’t be seeing each other everyday now. they don’t even know the next time they’ll get a change to hangout. yet, both girls know their bond is strong enough to withstand the distance between them.

[whistlewritesforfun]

“Mom get off me!” I rumbled, pushing her off me. Her wet kiss still on my cheek as I tried to wipe off her lipstick.

“I was wondering when you’d visit again! Your brother was here just last week-“

“Mom I’m here to kill you.” I stated firmly, drawing my sword. She sighed deeply with a groan.

“Before dinner? Really? Your father was at the smoker all day making brisket.” I ignored the faint rumble in my stomach.

“It’s for the prophecy!” I protested, waving my sword around.

“That’s what your brother was yammering about when he was here too.” I answered dismissively. “Honestly, what are they teaching you in college? When I was in school we used prophecies for important things. Like foreseeing if your boyfriend was gonna cheat on you, or if you were gonna get arrested for stealing a golf cart.”

“Mom they said the worlds gonna end if I don’t do it!” I once more protested as she started rummaging through a drawer in a side table. “Mom? Mom are you even listening!?”

“Yes- yes I am-“ she answered, putting a set of readers on. She yanked out a wrinkly old newspaper, squinting at it. “See! Your father was wrong.”

“What?”

“He said that 3 years ago the chicken meal at Sir Lances was 4 gold pieces-“ she said as she whacked the page with the back of her hand. “This says it was 6!”

“Mom can you at least pretend to take me seriously?” I questioned, entirely fed up.

“Alright alright,” she sighed, taking the readers off and tucking them into the bodice of her extravagant dress. She raised her arms up and her hands glowed with a deep purple energy. I readied my sword and charged at her, before she all too easily disarmed me.

“Mom!!” I groaned, stomping my foot. “Why’d you have to knock it so far away??”

“Ah I’m sorry dear, I’ll go get it.”

“No no- it’s fine.” I huffed, pinching my nose bridge. “I shouldn’t of reacted so angrily. It’s a completely normal distance.” I walked over, my armored boots clinking as I crouched and picked the sword up.

“Are you sure you wanna do this before dinner? I mean fighting on an empty stomach isn’t very fun.”

“Fine.” I agreed, sheathing my sword. “But tell dad not to give me a piece with too much fat!”

“Of course.” She agreed, before raising her voice loudly, “HAROLD! THOMAS IS STAYING FOR DINNER!”

“WHAT?!” Was the faint shout from the vague direction of the kitchen.

“THOMAS IS HERE FOR DINNER!”

“OH! OK! ARE WE USING THE CHINA OR THE PAPER PLATES?” My father responded again, sounding a bit closer before his head poked out from the doorway adjacent to his throne. I seriously don’t get why they didn’t hire more servants.

“It’s just Thomas,” she responded incredulously. “I don’t feel like dishes, we’ll just use the paper plates.”

“Alright Betty dear.” I grinned, his crown slightly lopsided as he slunk back to the kitchen.

“Y’know I think he’s going deaf.” My mother said plainly.

“I think you need to stop yelling from the other room.” I mumbled, before perking up. “Wait is that cake??” I asked, smelling the familiar scent.

“Yes, but it’s for the Dimmesdale’s.”

“Oh come on!” I groaned, walking with her to the dining room.

You, the chosen one, walk into the evil queen's throne room. The queen was sitting gloomily on her throne. She sees you and lightens up. She rises from her throne and kisses you. "Sweetheart, I am so glad you are back."

[sanguineterrain]

holiday spirit | jason todd

Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!

the divider

You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 

You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancés, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.

Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 

Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.

So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 

You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 

The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 

"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.

Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 

"Oh my God.”

He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”

"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."

"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.

"What, um—" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”

"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"

Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."

"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."

He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 

Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."

"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 

"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"

"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 

"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."

You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.

"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."

You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"

Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."

You blink. "What?"

"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."

Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.

five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.

“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.

“Yup. Good eye.”

"This seems... illegal.”

"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”

He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 

"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."

Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"

"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."

"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"

"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."

"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”

He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 

“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”

You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 

“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."

You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.

Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 

Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"

"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"

“Does your left arm hurt?”

“No, but—”

“Are your limbs stiffening?”

“No, but—”

“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”

Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 

It’s quiet for a second. Then— 

“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.

"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 

There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.

"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.

"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling… not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."

You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"

"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."

So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.

"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.

"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."

You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 

“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”

It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 

“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”

Yeah, but what if you lose your job?

You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”

“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”

“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"

You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.

"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”

"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 

Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh…”

You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”

You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.

“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.

"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.

"What the hell? Why not?"

"Because—"

There's a creak from the back. You wince. 

Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"

He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.

"Would you stop—is someone here?"

"My boyfriend!" you blurt.

Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."

"Well, I have one and he's here."

"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"

"Because he's... um..."

You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 

Oh, this is a terrible idea.

"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.

Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."

"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."

"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”

Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"

"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.

Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."

He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.

"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 

“How… do you know his name?”

“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 

"Oh… yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."

"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."

"What? No! Hood—"

"Oh, relax. I was kidding."

"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."

Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.

"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”

"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.

"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."

"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”

“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”

“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”

"Well…” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”

“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 

“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”

But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 

Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.

"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."

His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.

"You're pretty crafty," he says. 

"...Thanks?”

Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”

“You will?”

He tilts his head. “Should I not?”

“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”

He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."

"Y-yeah, got it."

Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."

"Who's Roy?"

"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."

He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.

"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 

This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.

But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.

And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?

The door swings open. You turn around.

“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 

“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 

You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 

He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.

“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 

And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 

His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.

“What?” he snaps, glaring.

“Nice eyes,” you blurt.

His brows furrow. You remember the guns.

“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.

Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."

"Okay."

"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."

"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."

"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."

He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.

"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.

"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"

“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”

"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.

"The same one who takes Xanax?”

“Would you believe it?”

You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.

“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 

“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”

“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 

"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."

"Your family doesn't celebrate?"

Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.

The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.

"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."

You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.

"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."

You nod. “Got it.”

“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”

You smile tightly. “As promised.”

A few people wave. Others cheer. 

“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.

“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.

“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”

“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.

“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”

You shrug. “Never came up.”

“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”

“Th-that’s right… honey,” you say, face going hot.

“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”

You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.

“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”

You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.

“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.

“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”

“Not like that. Just… it’ll be handled. Okay?”

You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”

Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”

You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 

Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 

“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”

“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.

You smile. “Glad you like it.”

You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 

Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”

You can guess exactly how he feels about that.

"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”

"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."

She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."

Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.

But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 

And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 

"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.

"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"

"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."

He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.

"Thank you for that," you say.

Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."

"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."

"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”

You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”

"And where is she?"

"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."

"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.

"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"

He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.

“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”

“So?”

He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 

It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 

“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 

Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 

“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 

“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”

“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”

His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”

“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 

Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 

You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 

“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”

The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 

He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”

“No, some people mixed it here.”

“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.

“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 

“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 

“That's what I say!” 

He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 

The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 

And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 

"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"

One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 

Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.

"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"

Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.

"No pictures," he says.

You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.

"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"

"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"

The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"

"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.

As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.

"Wow," you say.

"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."

You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.

"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."

Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.

"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.

"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"

"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.

Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"

"Yeah…” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”

"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."

You two go off to the side while Hood dials.

"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?

"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 

"Why?”

“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”

“Zombie breath.”

“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 

“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”

“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”

“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.

You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.

"Who's that?" the voice asks.

"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"

"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”

“It’s the TV,” Hood says.

“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know…”

“Mind your damn—”

“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 

Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then…

“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”

“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”

“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.

You look at each other for a moment. 

“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”

“Got it.” 

“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about…” 

His phone beeps. You look around the room. 

Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!

Holy shit. 

"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."

"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.

"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"

"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"

"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 

You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 

Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 

“Hood!” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 

Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”

And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 

You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 

You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 

Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 

“Y’alright?” he asks. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”

He lets go. You shift on your feet. 

“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 

Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”

The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 

“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 

You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 

The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 

“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”

The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”

You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.

“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”

As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 

“What is that?” you hiss. 

“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not…”

He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 

“That wasn’t—”

“I didn’t—”

You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 

“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 

Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh…”

“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”

“Yup. Find Matt?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.

“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 

“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 

“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 

“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”

“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 

“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.

“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”

He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 

Fifteen Minutes Later.

“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 

“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 

“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 

Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 

“Almost there!” he says. 

“Hey! What're you doing?” 

You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 

An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal… though after tonight, you're not so sure. 

“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”

The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 

“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”

Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 

The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 

The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 

“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”

He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”

“And I commend you for that.” 

“Are you sassing me?” 

Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 

Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 

“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”

The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 

You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?

Bang!

You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 

Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 

“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 

Shoot? Oh no.

You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 

Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 

You can't just leave him there. 

Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 

Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 

Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 

You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.

“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.

That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 

“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 

“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”

Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”

“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”

Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 

He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”

“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 

You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 

You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?

“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”

“Then we'll take care of her too.”

Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 

“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”

Candy? Why would—oh!

On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 

“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.

You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 

“Are you o—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 

“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”

You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.

“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 

“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  

Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 

Matt fires four more shots. 

“Fuck you, cop!” 

“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”

“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 

Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 

“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”

You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 

“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 

“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”

“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 

“What?”

Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 

“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”

He ignores you, of course. 

“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”

And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 

“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 

“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 

Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 

Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 

“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 

You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 

“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 

“Yeah.”

It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 

He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 

“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”

“You let go of the hook?”

You stop. “Um. No?” 

Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 

“I knew you were inside the office!”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”

“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”

“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 

“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 

You laugh. “I already think that.”

Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.

“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 

“With pleasure.”

“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.

“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 

You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 

There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 

“Hood… what did you do?” 

“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”

“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 

“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”

You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”

“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well…”

You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 

Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 

“So—”

“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”

“Hood…”

He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”

“And what would I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”

You open and close your mouth. “I don't… I don't know what to say.”

“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”

“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”

“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”

“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”

Hood nods. “Deal.”

You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.

“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”

He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”

You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”

“Oh, I will. Will you?”

He laughs. “No promises.” 

Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 

In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.

[requiemforthepoets]

ain’t nothing like an asian wedding! 𖦹 LN4

part one

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!asian!reader

SUMMARY: you and lando just wanted to make the most of your singapore trip before heading off to the UK, but it seems like everything descended into series of unfortunate events. though maybe, this is also a way to get lando be acquainted with everyone that may or may not drive your whole family crazy and singapore’s social elites on a daily basis.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, google translated chinese, mentions of gutted fish, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, minor public indecency (not main characters), mentions of marriage & grandchild, mean/bully characters, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 18k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! i hope you are all having a very wonderful holidays! so i have decided to post the part 2 of ‘stickwitu’, ask and you shall receive! lolz but i love crazy rich asians so much and i just can’t let go of this kind of crossover (?). i had decided to chop off this one to three parts, with 20k max of word count since i wanna get it all out there. this one is open for taglist as well since there will be a part 3 of this, so just comment if you wanna be tagged hehe. your comments/reblogs are highly appreciated 🥺 hope you’ll enjoy this second part! <3

The early return was unplanned but felt necessary after everything that happened at Araminta’s bachelorette party. The atmosphere among the girls was tense, full of subtle jabs and veiled competition that you and Rachel simply were not in the mood to tolerate any longer.

On the second day, when you got the chance, over breakfast, you leaned over to Rachel and whispered your plan. She hesitated at first, unsure if Araminta would even believe it, but eventually nodded in agreement, trusting you to handle the situation.

You approached Araminta just before the midday activities, adopting a concerned tone as you told her that Rachel was not really feeling well. You explained how she had been feeling faint and a bit queasy since the night before but had been trying to push through. Araminta’s face immediately fell into worry, and she reached out to Rachel, who played her part perfectly, adding a weak smile and saying she just needed rest.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel murmured, holding Araminta’s hand. “I really wanted to stay, but I think it’s better if I head back to the city.”

Araminta turned to you, her concern for Rachel deepened. “Do you need me to come with you? I don't want you both traveling alone if she’s not well.”

You shook your head, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “Absolutely not. Minty, this is your bachelorette party, and you shouldn’t leave everyone behind. I’ll take care of everything. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

It took some convincing, but eventually, Araminta relented. She hugged you both tightly, telling Rachel to rest and recover, that she’ll be seeing you both on the wedding day. As you left the island, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the lie, but the overwhelming relief of leaving outweighed it.

The flight back to the city was quiet at first, the two of you decompressing from the tension of the past day. Rachel let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we pulled that off. I feel terrible lying to her, though.”

You sighed, leaning back into the plush seat. “I know. But honestly, that crowd was unbearable. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.”

“Thank you for getting me out of there. I owe you one.” Rachel smiled gratefully at you.

Once you landed, the two of you decided to make the most of the unexpected free day. You took her to some of your favorite spots in Singapore, then introduced her to local dishes and hidden gems around the city. From the bustling hawker centers to the serene gardens, you wanted her to see more than just the usual tourist spots.

“You weren’t kidding when you said Singapore is magical,” she said as she admired the view from Marina Bay Sands.

“It’s home,” you replied with a small smile. “And now you’ve seen a little piece of it.”

By the time you dropped her off at the hotel, it was late, the city lights twinkling against the dark sky. As you hugged her goodbye, Rachel whispered, “thanks again for today. I really needed this.”

“You’re very welcome, and hey, if anyone asks, you’re still recovering from that ‘terrible stomach bug.’”

Your family driver was already waiting as you stepped out of the hotel. You gave Rachel one last wave before sliding into the car, sinking into the leather seat as the city blurred past the window. The relief of being home and away from the chaos of the island was evident, and for the first time in days, you felt at ease.

The house was quiet as you stepped inside, but your mind was already racing with the thought of seeing Lando. The faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft creak of the floor beneath your feet were the only sounds accompanying you as you called out his name. No response.

You wandered from room to room, checking the living room, kitchen, even the study, but there was no sign of him. Then, as you approached the sliding glass doors leading to the patio, you saw him sitting there, phone in hand, smiling and laughing as he talked to someone on facetime.

Lando’s gaze shifted towards the door as you slid it open, and his face lit up when he saw you. He motioned for you to come over, his smile growing even more brighter. You made your way to him, the cool evening breeze brushing against your skin.

As you reached him, you wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. His free arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, and he returned the kiss, deeper and more deliberate. When you pulled away slightly, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of surprise.

“You’re back early,” he murmured softly, his thumb grazing your hip.

“I’ll tell you everything later,” you said, glancing toward the phone in his hand. It was that you noticed the familiar face on the screen, Max. “Hi, Max,” you greeted warmly.

“Hey, you,” Max replied with a grin, leaning closer to the camera. “Back already? Thought you were off on some wild bachelorette adventure?”

You laughed softly. “Something like that. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you guys. How have you been? And Pietra? I can’t wait to catch up when we're in the UK for Christmas.”

Max chuckled. “We’re good. Pietra’s already planning the whole holiday—dinner menus, decorations, everything. You’ll have to let her drag you into the chaos.”

Lando shifted slightly, pulling you down onto his lap, his hand resting on your waist as he held his phone with the other. You settled against him, his fingers idly tracing shapes on your side while you continued chatting with Max.

“She doesn’t have to drag me. I’m ready for it,” you replied, smiling. “Tell her to save me a spot in the kitchen, I’m good at taste-testing.”

“I’ll pass that on,” Max and Lando shared a laugh, but then Max’s expression softened. “Honestly though, it’s good seeing you hoth happy. Pietra and I were just talking about how happy you’ve made this muppet. But you know, we were skeptical at first.”

“Oh, I remember,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Something about expecting me to be snobby?”

Max laughed, holding both his hands up in defense. “Hey, it’s not everyday that someone from your background walks into our lives. But you proved us wrong pretty quickly. You’re as down-to-earth as they come, and more importantly, you make little Lando happy. That’s all we care about.”

Your gaze shifted to Lando, whose thumb was tracing idle patterns on your side, a content smile resting on his face. “Well, he makes me happy too,” you said softly.

Max smiled. “Good. That’s all that matters. Anyway, I’ll let you two catch up. Don’t keep him up too late.”

You laughed, nodding. “I’ll make sure he gets some sleep. See you soon, Max.”

“See you soon,” he replied, before ending the call.

As the screen went dark, Lando set his phone down and wrapped both arms around you, holding you close.

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice low and earnest.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, leaning into him, the weight of the past few days melting away in his embrace.

The evening air was cool and crisp as you sat comfortably on Lando’s lap, the soft hum of distant city noise blending with the quiet rustle of leaves. His arm rested securely around your waist while his other hand lazily drummed against the armrest of the chair. He tilted his head slightly to look at you, his expression soft but curious.

“So,” he began, voice low and easy, “why are you back early? I thought you had a few more days of bachelorette shenanigans left.”

You let out a small sigh, glancing at the darkened sky before turning your gaze back to him. “It’s a long story,” you said, trying to suppress the frustration that the memory brought up.

Lando’s brows lifted slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We’ve got plenty of time and I’m not going anywhere,” he teased, tone light as he tightened his arm around you.

You laughed softly before settling deeper into his embrace. “Okay, so Rachel traveled with Minty and the other girls ahead of me to Samsara, right? I had to leave later because of a meeting, so I got there after everyone else.”

Lando nodded, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, silently encouraging you to continue.

“When I arrived at the villa,” you said, voice dropping slightly, “I saw Rachel speed-walking back from the spa. She was just wearing her robe, and she looked…off. Like she was about to cry, so I went to her and asked what happened, but she didn’t answer me right away. She just kept walking, looking like she wanted to disappear.”

His expression shifted to one of concern, his brows furrowing as he listened intently.

“I followed her back to the villa she was staying,” you continued, tone growing more serious. “And that’s when we saw a huge gutted fish on her bed, with pink lipstick scrawled across the glass window that said, catch this, you gold-digging bitch.”

Lando’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his jaw tensing. “What the hell?” he muttered, his voice edged with disbelief.

“I know,” you said, exhaling sharply at the memory. “I wanted to call security right then and there, but Rachel stopped me—she didn’t want to make a scene. She was so humiliated, Lan. You could see it all over her face.”

He shook his head, voice low. “That’s fucking awful. Who even does something like that?”

“Oh, I know exactly who’s capable of pulling this kind of stunt,” you said scoffing, tone sharp with certainty. “Francesca Shaw. That little bitch.”

“Who’s Francesca Shaw?” Lando asked in curiosity.

You tilted your head, letting out a dry laugh. “She’s Nadine Shaw’s daughter, one of Auntie Eleanor’s closest friends. Francesca used to be an heiress to the Shaw Foods fortune, but her grandfather cut her off completely from the will after waking up from coma. Guess grandpa Shaw didn’t like how little miss two-faced was spending the family money.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “So, she’s broke now?”

“Eh, pretty much,” you said. “And before you ask, yes, she’s also Nicky’s ex. They dated briefly years ago, but it didn’t go anywhere because Nicky didn’t like how her attitude began to change for the worse. Francesca clearly thought she still had shot, but when Rachel came into the picture, that dream was practically over. She’s been a bitter bitch ever since.”

Lando leaned back slightly, grip still firm on your waist. “So, she’s trying to ruin things for them all because of jealousy?”

“Not just jealousy,” you corrected. “Envy. She’s spent her whole life in circles like ours, and now that she’s lost her position, she’s desperate to claw her way back in. She probably sees Rachel as a threat, someone she thinks doesn’t belong.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “That’s pathetic. I can’t believe someone would go that far.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But Rachel didn’t want to make waves, especially not at Minty’s party. It wasn’t the time or place, and honestly, I just wanted to get her out of there. I wasn’t going to let Rachel stay there a second longer, so I told her to act like she was sick, and we left. The toxicity is just too much.”

Lando’s eyes scanned your face, then pressed a soft kiss to your temple, voice filled with reassurance. “You did the right thing. I’m glad that you were there for her.”

You gave him a small smile, “I just couldn’t stand by and let Francesca get to her. Rachel doesn’t deserve any of the shit they’re throwing to her at all.”

“Neither of you do,” Lando said firmly. “But I’m glad you’re back.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in your body ease slightly as you settled back into his embrace, the weight of the day beginning to dissipate.

The next day, you and Lando found yourselves back at your Ah Ma’s estate, where everyone was gathered in the big, spacious dining room that was only reserved for the family. The air was warm with the aroma of fresh dough and seasoned fillings, as half a dozen maids moved seamlessly, rolling small balls of dough into flat circles and forming minced meat into dozens of uniform, expertly shaped balls.

You were seated beside Nick, with Lando on your other side. While this was not Lando’s first time making dumplings, you often found yourself teaching him the technique whenever you were in Monaco. It had become a little tradition between the two of you as well, and you always made sure to leave him with a stack of freshly prepared dumplings to store in his freezer before you fly back to New York.

Lando had a knack for making dumplings by now, though you couldn’t always trust him with all the cooking in general, especially after the time you learned through Max’s stream that he had been running on no sleep for twenty-six hours, eaten out-of-date food, and spent his break before the Las Vegas GP playing call of duty. Dumplings, at least, were something he could handle—trusting not to burn his own kitchen down.

A maid carried a tray of the minced meat balls to the center of the room, where your mother and other family members—Nick, Rachel, Oliver, and your Aunties Alix and Eleanor, were all gathered around a large table. They worked busily, folding dumplings with swift, practiced hands and placing them neatly into stacked bamboo steamers.

This was a cherished family tradition, and your Aunties led the effort with the ease of many years of experience, their hands moving expertly while they kept up a lively flow of conversation. The hum of chatter filled the dining room, blending perfectly with the rhythmic movements of the dumpling-making process.

Your Auntie Eleanor carefully inspected the tray of folded dumplings and gave a satisfactory nod of approval, her sharp eye ensuring every piece was up to standard. Meanwhile, your mother glanced at the dozen trays already filled, her expression betraying a mix of alarm and disbelief.

“This is all too much,” your Auntie Alix remarked, shaking her head as she folded another dumpling with her precise fingers. “We’re only hosting a rehearsal dinner, not feeding an entire army.”

Your Auntie Eleanor countered almost immediately, her tone firm yet practical. “It is better that it’s too much than too little. Imagine people saying we’re stingy, that’s much worse.”

On the other side of the table, Nick was patiently teaching Rachel how to fold her first dumpling. He held the thin dumpling dough in his hand, placed a small ball of minced meat in the center, and carefully folded the edges, sealing it closed with practiced ease.

“It’s like tucking in a baby,” Nick explained, glancing at Rachel with a smile.

Rachel’s face lit up at the analogy. “That’s so cute,” she said, then added with mock horror, “and then you eat the baby.”

Her comment sent everyone into fits of laughter. Then Oliver, always quick to join in on the fun, leaned forward and added his own take on how to fold a dumpling.

“Grand Auntie Mabel taught me that folding dumplings is like getting botox,” he said, picking up dumpling dough. “The filling is the botox, and the wrapper is the face. You pinch it here and here, and voilà! You now have a flawless face.”

The whole table erupted with laughter again, and Rachel, shaking her head at the humor, asked, “did you all learn how to make dumplings when you were kids?”

You turned to her and nodded, folding another dumpling as you replied, “we didn’t exactly have a choice, it was mandatory.”

Then your mother chimed in from across the table, her voice carrying a mix of pride and amusement. “We taught all of you so that you’ll all understand the blood, sweat, and tears it took to raise and feed you monkeys.” she said, folding her dumpling expertly and placing it on the tray.

Your Auntie Alix nodded in agreement with your mother. “Not like the ang-mohs, microwaving everything for their children. No wonder, when their parents grow old, they send them to the old folks’ home.”

Lando turned to you, asking silently that only the two of you could hear, “babe, what’s ang-mohs?”

“Oh, it’s a colloquial expression used to refer to Caucasians or Westerners.” you replied as Lando nodded.

“Exactly. That’s what Ah Ma always says, if we don’t pass down traditions like this, they slowly disappear.” your Auntie Eleanor chimed in, tone firm.

You snickered, rolling your eyes playfully as you murmured loud enough with the intent for everyone to hear, “well, God forbid that we lose the ancient Chinese tradition of guilting your children.”

“Honestly, learning how to make these dumplings is totally worth it. I remember back when I was little, Mom used to wait for me after school with a basket of fresh dumplings.” Nick added, voice softened at the memory, and your Auntie Eleanor smiled, corners of her mouth tugging upward in quiet nostalgia.

“幸運嘅男孩!” (lucky boy!) your Auntie Alix said.

You turned to your mother and teased, “how come I never got after-school dumplings?”

Before your mother could muster out a reply, Oliver had beat her to it, smirking as he quipped, “well, probably because Auntie Elizabeth was busy having an after-school microdermabrasion.”

Your mother gasped, mock-scolding him in rapid Cantonese. “你真系个叻嘅屁股！ 如果你嘅祖父仲在生，佢會直接將你踢到下周.” (you’re such a smart-ass! if your grandfather were still alive, he’d kick you straight into next week) with a quick flick of her wrist, your mother threw a piece of dumpling dough at Oliver, which hit his shirt with a soft plop.

“Auntie!” Oliver looked down at the dough stuck to his chest, brushing it off with an exaggerated pout. “This is Dolce, you know.”

Laugher rippled through the room again, the air filled with warmth, teasing, and the familiar comfort of family banter.

Your Auntie Alix turned to Rachel, her expression curious yet kind. “Rachel, do you speak Cantonese?”

Rachel shook her head, smiling politely. “No, I don’t,” she admitted, then quickly added, “but it’s so great seeing your family bond like this.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Oliver, all of you caught slightly off guard by her statement, except Nick. It was not something you really thought about, it was just how things were.

Rachel seemed to sense everyone’s confusion and explained further, “growing up, it was just me and my Mom. We didn’t have a big family like yours, this is really special.”

“We’re glad that you appreciate it,” Oliver said softly. “You’re right, we’re lucky to have this.”

Your mother and Auntie Alix both smiled, their postures relaxing just a little. Your Auntie Alix even murmured, “it’s nice to hear someone appreciate it.”

Rachel, emboldened by the shift in mood, turned her attention to your Auntie Eleanor, who had been largely quiet, methodically folding dumplings with precision. Her gaze fell on the large emerald ring your Auntie Eleanor was wearing, glinting under the soft light as she carefully placed a dumpling into a bamboo steamer.

“That ring is very stunning, Auntie Eleanor,” Rachel said, voice genuinely admiring. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You paused mid-fold, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you, his eyes widening slightly. The conversation from the other night before leaving for Samsara immediately surfaced in your mind.

Your mother and Auntie Alix both turned to look at your Auntie Eleanor, their expressions carefully neutral as they waited to see how she would respond. Your Auntie Eleanor looked genuinely surprised, her delicate hands momentarily pausing their rhythmic folding of dumplings.

“This ring,” she began, glancing at the emerald on her finger, “was made by my husband, Nick’s father, when he proposed to me.”

Rachel’s eyes lit up with interest. “That’s really amazing. Did he design it himself?”

She gave a small node, movements deliberate as she reshmed folding another dumpling. “He did. He wanted it to be one of a kind.”

“That’s incredible! Where did you two meet?” Rachel's eyes lit up with curiosity, leaning slightly forward.

Nick jumped in, tone light and proud. “They met at Cambridge, both are studying law.”

Rachel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn't know you were a lawyer.” she said, admiration apparent.

Your Auntie Eleanor resumed folding, her expression calm but firm. “I didn’t finish,” she clarified. “When we got married, I chose to withdraw from university.”

Rachel blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry…”

Noticing the slight tension that was slowly forming, your Auntie Eleanor elaborated, voice steady as she carefully sealed another dumpling.

“I made that decision to help my husband run his business and to raise a family. To me, that was a privilege,” she glanced at Rachel, her gaze sharp yet polite. “But to some others, it might seem old-fashioned.”

Rachel hesitated, not really sure of how to respond, but before she could say anything, your Auntie Eleanor continued.

“It’s nice of you that you appreciate this,” she said, gesturing to the room that was filled with chattering and dumpling-making. “Everyone together, contributing, creating something. But I want you to fully understand that all of this doesn’t happen by accident or with the snap of a finger. It’s because we’ve always prioritized family above all else.”

Her voice took on a slightly sharper edge, though still calm. “Sometimes, that means letting go of personal ambitions for the greater good. It’s a lesson I learned early on and one I hope will never be forgotten.”

A very heavy awkward silence settled over the table. You felt Lando’s hand subtly intertwining your fingers under the table, as you glanced at Rachel. Her smile faltered slightly, and her posture stiffened as though she was not entirely sure how to respond.

Your mother and Auntie Alix remained silent, both just looking at their dumplings, minding their own business, their expressions natural but tense. You knew they were traditional in their own ways, yet far more accepting than your Auntie Eleanor. They were not going to intervene, but their discomfort was apparent.

Rachel finally nodded, voice quiet but steady. “I see. Thank you for sharing that, Auntie Eleanor,” she said, offering a faint smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

Then, the dining room doors opened with a soft creak, and your Ah Ma entered with her Thai maids following closely behind, their presence as graceful and composed as always. She was wearing a beautiful silk blouse in shades of soft jade, with her posture upright and regal despite her old age. Your Ah Ma’s presence immediately shifted the atmosphere in the room, dissolving the lingering tension.

Everyone rose to their feet, a chorus of respectful greetings filling the space. You and Lando followed closely behind Nick and Rachel as you walked toward her, hand firmly clasping Lando’s.

Your Ah Ma’s face lit up when her gaze fell on Lando. “Ah, Lan Lan!” she exclaimed, voice warm and filled with genuine affection. “I’m happy to see you again. Tell me, has your dumpling folding improved since the last time?”

Lando smiled, bowing his head slightly in respect. “I think so, Ah Ma,” he replied, voice steady but tinged with amusement. “But you’ll have to judge for yourself.”

Nick stepped forward, taking your Ah Ma’s arm gently, and you mirrored his action on her other side. Her smile widened as she turned to Nick, patting his hand affectionately. “我很高興你帶瑞秋來了.” (i’m so glad you brought rachel) she said, voice kind but observant.

Your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes landed on Rachel, who stood politely beside Nick. She scrutinized her face for a moment, her expression contemplative before breaking into a small smile. “在白天，我可以清楚地看到她。 非常漂亮的臉蛋.” (ah, in the daylight, i can see her clearly. very nice-looking face)

Rachel’s lips parted slightly, unsure how to react, but she eventually nodded and smiled, choosing to take it as a compliment. “謝謝阿媽.” (thank you, ah ma) she said, in a respectful tone.

With Nick and you guiding her, your Ah Ma walked toward her seat at the head of the table. When you reached the chair, Lando quickly stepped forward, pulling it out for her with fluid motion. Your Ah Ma gave Lando an approving nod before settling into the seat, her movements deliberate but elegant.

Once your Ah Ma was seated, she gestured with a delicate wave of her hand. “坐下，你們所有人.” (sit down, all of you) she instructed, tone commanding but not harsh.

Oliver leaned back slightly and chimed in, tone light and teasing. “We’re almost finished, Ah Ma. Just a few more baskets left.”

“Good, good,” she said, a trace of satisfaction in her voice.

While your Ah Ma was observing everyone, her gaze swept over the trays of folded dumplings, her discerning eyes pausing on a particular set of dumplings that stood out. Without any hesitation, she gestured toward the batch and turned to your Auntie Eleanor.

“埃莉諾，你做了這個批次嗎?” (eleanor, did you make this batch?) her tone was sharp, but not unkind.

You Auntie Eleanor straightened slightly, nodding with a subtle air of pride. “是的，阿媽,” (yes, ah ma) she replied, voice composed but tinged with a hint of accomplishment.

Your Ah Ma’s eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned in for a closer look, inspecting the dumplings with the same scrutiny she might give to a priceless piece of jade. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, and she tilted her head, her words carrying a weight of blunt honesty.

”他們看起來不太好,” (they don’t look very good) she remarked, tone in a matter-of-fact but leaving little room for dispute. “你失去了你的觸摸,埃莉諾.” (you’ve lost your touch, eleanor)

The room seemed to pause momentarily, the faintest ripple of tension spreading across the table. You glanced at Rachel, who sat stiffly, her expression carefully neutral, clearly unsure how to react to the sudden critique.

You turned to Lando, who had been watching the exchange with curiosity, leaning slightly toward you as he whispered, “what did Ah Ma say?”

Lowering your voice, you translated quickly but gently, “Ah Ma said the dumplings don’t look good, and that Auntie Eleanor has lost her touch.”

Lando made a face, and though he made no comment, the slight twitch of his lips suggested he was trying not to laugh. You gave him a soft nudge under the table, silently reminding him to keep a straight face.

Even with your Ah Ma’s comment, your Auntie Eleanor maintained her composure, her lips tightening as she focused on folding another dumpling, pretending as though the comment did not bother her at all. But still, you knew that everyone at the table heard everything, and no one was really surprised by your Ah Ma’s brutal honesty.

As the final dumplings were folded and placed neatly into the bamboo steamers, Rachel excused herself, standing from her seat with a polite smile. “I’m just going to the restroom,” she said softly, tone light.

Nick immediately offered, “I'll come with you.”

Rachel just shook her head gently, declining with a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, I can find my way.”

With that, she turned and walked off, navigating through the hallways of the estate, leaving the rest of you to finish arranging the trays.

Meanwhile, your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes scanned the remaining dumplings, her attention landing on the ones Lando had folded. Despite her age, her vision remained sharp as ever, and she leaned forward slightly, inspecting his work. A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“這些很漂亮,” (these are beautiful) she said, nodding approvingly.

Lando lit up at the compliment—well, he didn’t really understand what your Ah Ma had said, but based on her reaction, it’s a positive one. His cheeks colored faintly as he looked at you for a moment, seeking your silent confirmation that he had done well.

Your Ah Ma then turned to you, tone warm but firm as she continued, “你教他很好,我的孫女。 我可以看到他爲此付出的努力。 你跟他幹得真不錯.” (you’ve taught him well, my granddaughter. I can see the effort he’s put into these. you really did a good job with him)

You smiled, bowing your head slightly in acknowledgment of her praise, but before you could respond, her attention shifted back to Lando. Your Ah Ma’s expression softened, yet her words carried a note of earnestness.

“Lan Lan,” she began, “好好照顧自己，好好吃飯,” (take care of yourself, eat properly) she spoke slowly enough that he could understand the weight of her words even if he did not catch every meaning of it.

Your Ah Ma paused, gaze flicking back to you for a moment, before continuing. “I remember when my granddaughter came back here to Singapore after being in Monaco. She was so worried about you.”

Then she turned again to Lando, tone shifting slightly to a mock-scolding one, though her affection for him was evident. “She told me how you hadn’t slept for twenty-six hours and were eating expired food. How can you not take care of yourself?”

Lando ducked his head slightly, his smile sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping into his cheeks.

Switching to Mandarin, she fired rapidly at Lando, though there was no malice in her tone. “你認爲僅僅因爲你年輕，你的身體會原諒一切嗎？ 不會的 你很幸運，我的孫女飛到摩納哥爲你做飯.” (you think just because you’re young, your body will forgive everything? it won’t. you’re lucky my granddaughter flew to to monaco to cook for you)

You were trying not to laugh as you translated everything your Ah Ma said to him, and Lando nodded earnestly, voice quiet but sincere. “I know, Ah Ma. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Your Ah Ma turned to you with a knowing smile. “我什麼時候能指望你結婚?” (when can i expect you to get married?)

You froze on your seat, eyes widening in disbelief as he words hung in the air. You felt Lando’s hand tense slightly in yours under the table, though you were sure he hadn’t understood any of it.

“我想在我死之前見到我的曾孫們。 我已經沒有多少年時間了.” (i want to see my great-grandchildren before i die. i don’t have that many years left) your Ah Ma continued.

The room erupted into laughter at your Ah Ma’s bluntness, a mix of amused chuckles and good-natured teasing. Even your mother, who rarely join on such jokes, could not help but wink at you across the table.

“Ah Ma,” you began, swallowing hard, trying to find the right words to appease her. “蘭多和我還年輕。 他有一個非常忙碌的職業生涯，我們現在都專注於我們的目標.” (lando and i are still young. he has a very busy career, and we’re both focused on our goals right now)

“太年輕了？ 胡說八道！ 你們兩個都老了，有什麼目標？ 家庭是人生最重要的目標,” (too young? nonsense! you’re both old enough, and what goals? a family is the most important goal in life) she retorted, waving her hand in the air as if brushing aside your excuses.

She leaned slightly forward, her gaze fixed on Lando now, as if silently willing him to understand what she was saying. “我走之前要抱着我的曾孫,” (i need to hold my great-grandchild before i go) she reiterated, as though her insistence alone could make it happen.

Lando, who had been smiling politely, began to glance around the table, sensing that the laughter was at his expense but unable to piece together what was being said.

“What’s going on? What did Ah Ma say?” he said, leaning towards you.

Before you could think of a way to downplay it, Nick—ever the troublemaker, grinned wickedly and leaned over. “Oh, I’ll tell you,” he said, just loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Ah Ma’s asking when you’re getting married. She wants great-grandchildren before she dies.”

His jaw dropped slightly at what Nick said, cheeks already tinged pink. “What?” Lando stammered, glancing at you for confrontation.

The laughter just grew louder as Nick continued, “she’s serious too. She’s already planning your family timeline.”

You groaned inwardly, shooting Nick a sharp look that only made him smirk wider. Meanwhile, Lando’s blush deepend, spreading across his ear and down to his neck. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, and lips twitching into an embarrassed smile.

“I…uh…” he stuttered, clearly flustered, and you couldn’t help but smile despite the situation.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table, leaning closer to whisper, “don’t worry, she just likes to tease. You’re doing great.”

Your Ah Ma smiled warmly at Lando, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening with the kind of affection reserved for those who had truly earned it. She placed her hands gently on the edge of the table, her gaze shifting between you and him as she began to speak again in Mandarin.

“我愛你這個年輕人,” (i love this young man for you) she said, tone resolute yet tender. “我等不及你們倆結婚的那一天了。 當然，這必須在我死之前發生，但沒有壓力.” (i cannot wait for the day you both get married. of course, this must happen before i die, but no pressure)

The table chuckled softly at her words, though you could feel the weight of her underlying sincerity.

“我希望你們的關係最終會導致婚姻。 它必須，我很高興是他。 我認識你以前約會過的所有男孩，但沒有你介紹他們給我,” (i expect your relationship will lead to marriage in the end. it must, and I’m glad it’s him. i knew all the boys you dated before without you introducing them to me) she continued, tone sharpening lightly as she referred to your past. “他們都不值得。 蘭多是。 他是個好人，是個紳士。 我看得出他讓你多麼高興.” (none of them were worthy. but lando is. he is a good man and a gentleman. i can see how happy he makes you)

Her gaze lingered on Lando, eyes bright with approval. “你選的不錯,” (you chose well) she said firmly, her words almost carrying the weight of a blessing.

You glanced at your mother, who was watching the exchange quietly with a soft smile. When your eyes met, she gave you a small nod, as if to echo your Ah Ma’s sentiments. Your heart swelled, knowing that this was not just about Lando being accepted by your family, it was about him being fully embraced in a way that rarely happened in a family as traditional as yours.

“我們的家庭一直重視傳統的重要性，在我們自己的背景，我們自己的文化中結婚。 這就是讓我們堅強的原因。 但有時，當心髒看到什麼是正確的時，必須做出例外.” (our family has always valued the importance of tradition, of marrying within our own background, our own culture. it is what keeps us strong. but sometimes, exceptions must be made when the heart sees what is right) your Ah Ma’s eyes softened further as she looked at you. “你已經看到了什麼是正確的。 我相信你的選擇。 他會給你帶來快樂，你也會給他帶來同樣的快樂.” (and you have seen what’s right. i trust your choice. he will bring you happiness, and you will bring him the same)

Lando, though unable to follow the Mandarin, seemed to understand the atmosphere and the sentiment. He offered a polite smile, his hand tightening slightly around yours under the table.

“你知道，你是第一個正式向我介紹這樣一個人的人。 這不是一件小事。 它表明了對我們家庭的尊重，它表明你是認真的.” (you know, you are the first to formally introduce someone to me like this. it is no small thing. it shows respect for our family, and it shows me that you are serious) she paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “這就是爲什麼我相信這將工作。 你有我的祝福.” (that is why I trust this will work. you have my blessing)

You felt a lump in your throat as you glanced again at your mother, who was still smiling softly. There was no need for words, her expression said it all. The weight of family approval—especially your Ah Ma’s, was very significant. It was not just about you and Lando anymore, it was about the life you were building together, one that your family wholeheartedly supported.

You turned to Lando and gave him a small smile, and squeezed his hand, a private gesture of reassurance for him. Though he could not understand the exact words, you knew he felt the love and acceptance in the room, just as deeply as you did.

While everyone was now immersed in a new topic of conversation, you can’t help but notice that Rachel was taking longer than usual. Rachel hasn’t gone back yet, the same as your Auntie Eleanor. Just before your Ah Ma would say his monologue about family tradition, your Auntie Eleanor had excused herself.

You glanced at the door Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor had exited through earlier, your eyes narrowed slightly in concern. This was a sprawling estate, one where getting turned around was almost inevitable for someone unfamiliar with its labyrinth of hallways and grand rooms. You couldn’t shake the sense that something was amiss.

Minutes passed. Neither Rachel nor your Auntie Eleanor had returned. Your unease deepened. So you leaned slightly toward Lando, your voice low enough not to disrupt the ongoing chatter around the table.

“I think I’ll go check on Rachel,” you murmured. “She’s taking a little too long, and Auntie Eleanor too.”

Lando nodded, his eyes flickering with slight concern. “You think everything’s okay?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” you replied. “But I’ll find out.”

You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, the faintest smile touching your lips despite the worry now bubbling beneath the surface. Straightening up, you excused yourself from the table, smoothing down your dress with a quick, practiced motion.

As you step away, the chatter behind you fades, replaced by the muted hum of distant sounds in the house, the faint clatter of dishes being cleared in the kitchen, soft shuffle of footsteps from maids moving about their duties.

You moved quietly, your steps deliberate as you followed the path Rachel had taken earlier. You knew this house like the back of your hand, each twist and turn etched into your memory, but even for you, it was easy to imagine how someone so unfamiliar might lose their way.

Your eyes scanned the hallways as you moved, the ornate decorations and rich furnishings familiar yet suddenly feeling imposing in the quiet. You still could not shake the thought that perhaps your Auntie Eleanor had cornered Rachel somewhere in the house, and the idea made your pace quicken.

The moment you approached the grand staircase, you approached quietly, you heard voices and stopped just short of the landing, hiding yourself out of sight behind the very heavy drapery of a nearby window. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on other people, but your concern for Rachel overpowered the voice of reason.

Peeking through the fabric, you saw them. Your Auntie Eleanor stood on the top step of the staircase, her posture sharp and commanding, while Rachel stood two steps below her, visibly uneasy. The height difference only seemed to amplify the imbalance in their dynamic—your Auntie Eleanor looking every bit like a hawk, and Rachel was the unwitting prey.

“I’m glad I found you,” your Auntie Eleanor began, voice low and calm, but laced with a kind of weight that felt impossible to ignore. “I felt…perhaps I was unfair to you earlier.”

Rachel immediately shook her head, her voice soft but apologetic. “No, no, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to offend you, and I’m really sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t offend me, Rachel,” she said quietly, almost too quietly, as though she were weighing each word before releasing it. “But since we’re already here, I feel it’s only fair to share something with you. Something that I don’t often talk about.”

“Alright,” Rachel said, voice barely above whisper.

“The emerald ring,” she began, lifting her hand slightly to glance at the emerald on her finger, “had been customized by my husband, Philip, because Ah Ma didn’t want to give him the family ring.”

“She…refused?” Rachel was clearly surprised.

Your Auntie Eleanor gave a small, humorless smile, the corner of her lips barely turning upward. “She didn’t think I was worthy of it. Didn’t think I was worthy of Philip.”

At that, you felt your breath catch. This was new information, something you had never heard before. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them, even as guilt tugged at you for listening in.

“Why would she think that?” Rachel’s voice was cautious, tentative.

Your Auntie Eleanor’s expression hardened, though her voice remained calm. “Because I didn’t come from the right family. I didn’t have the proper connections, and I was not what Ah Ma envisioned for his eldest son. To her, I was inadequate. Not a suitable wife for the future head of the family.”

Rachel looked stunned, her hands fidgeting slightly at her sides. “I…I didn’t know.”

“No, of course, you wouldn’t,” she said softly. “It’s not the kind of thing people would discuss so openly, and why would they? It’s already humiliating to admit that you weren’t the first choice.”

Rachel’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out of her mouth.

“I wasn’t even the second choice. You’re Ah Ma wanted someone else entirely, someone from a family with status and wealth that matched ours. But Philip, he chose me.”

From your hiding spot, you could see the faint sheer in your Auntie Eleanor’s eyes, though her expression remained resolute. You felt your stomach tighten. This was far more personal than the surface-level gossip you and your mother often indulge in about your Auntie Eleanor.

Rachel seemed to struggle to find the right response. “I think that’s very brave of you, to have gone through that.”

“Brave?” she echoed, almost as though testing the word on her tongue. “Perhaps, or perhaps I simply had no choice but to endure it. That’s what women like me are expected to do. Endure. Sometimes, there were days when I wondered if I would ever measure up.”

Another pause filled the air, heavy and suffocating. You glanced back toward the hallway that leads to the dining room, where laughter and conversation continued, oblivious to the tension unfolding right outside.

Your Auntie Eleanor looked down at Rachel, her tone softening just slightly. “I don’t say this to make you uncomfortable, Rachel. I say it because you remind me of someone I once was, a young woman trying to find her place in a family with traditions that can feel suffocating at times. But here’s the thing.”

“To belong here,” your Auntie Eleanor said quietly, “you must learn when to bend and when to stand firm, and above all, you must understand that family will always come first before passion, before dreams. It’s not easy, but it’s the way it is.”

Her words lingered in the air, cutting deeper than anything you had expected. You tightened your grip on the drapery, heart thudding in your chest.

“But Rachel,” she said softly, almost gently, as she took a slow step closer to her. “Having been through it all myself, I can tell you this much…you will never be enough.”

The words hung in the air, deceptively gently, yet sharp enough to pierce. Rachel was eviscerated, as your Auntie Eleanor draws back, placid and calm, as if they were talking about the weather. Her hand lightly touched Rachel’s arm, almost a contradictory gesture to the blow she had just delivered.

“We should head back, I wouldn’t want Nick to worry.” your Auntie Eleanor’s tone did not falter, nor did her gaze waver. She slowly began descending the stairs.

You’re still hidden—more like frozen in place. You watched as Rachel’s expression crumbled ever so slightly, her face a mixture of hurt and confusion, though she tried valiantly to hold her composure. You felt a pang in your chest for her, but before you could decide whether to step out, you felt a presence approaching from behind.

You turned your head quickly, startled to see Lando walking towards you. His lips were already parting, likely to ask what you were doing or what was taking you so long, but you reacted instinctively. You brought a finger to your lips in a sharp shushing motion, then darted towards him as quietly as possible, pressing a hand gently over his mouth before he could make a sound.

Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he obeyed your silent command, his wide eyes flickering between you and the staircase. You both froze as the unmistakable sound of your Auntie Eleanor’s heels began clicking rhythmically against the marble floor, growing louder with each step.

Peeking back around the corner just enough, your Auntie Eleanor was already headed your way, her expression calm and composed, never even looking back at Rachel, who remained standing frozen in place.

Without any second thought, you grabbed Lando’s hand firmly and began pulling him back down the hall, away from the grand staircase. His confusion deepened, but he did not resist, allowing you to guide him. You stopped just short of the door, turning to face him, you placed a hand on his chest and pressed a little to keep him from moving any further. Lando tilted his head slightly, silently asking for an explanation, but you shook your head.

“I’ll tell you everything later,” you whispered firmly, voice barely audible. “When we’re home.”

Lando frowned slightly but nodded in understanding, his gaze softening as he squeezed your hand gently. You exhaled, releasing the tension in your shoulders, and took a moment to steady yourself. Lacing your fingers together, you took one more deep breath, and walked back into the dining room with Lando by your side.

You plastered on a casual smile, even as your thoughts raced, determined to keep up the act for now.

Later that evening, you were now back to the safety and comfort of your home. You and Lando were now settled into the bed, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. Lando was lying on his back, one arm tucked under his head, while his other arm rested lightly on your arm. The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his face as you propped yourself up on your elbow, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Okay, here’s the tea,” you began softly, keeping your voice low in the stillness of the room.

Lando turned his head to look at you, his brows knitting slightly. “What’s the tea?”

You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before recounting everything you had overheard between Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor by the grand staircase. You spoke carefully, detailing the conversation, voice growing more serious as you described your Auntie Eleanor’s sharp words, her admission about the family ring, and the way she had undermined Rachel. Lando listened intently, his gaze never leaving yours, expression shifting from concern to quiet disbelief as you continued.

“And then,” you said, voice dropping even lower, “she told Rachel she would never be enough. I just couldn’t believe it, honestly. It was so cruel.”

“That’s awful,” he said firmly. “I can’t imagine how Rachel must’ve felt when she heard that. She must’ve been gutted—no pun intended.”

You chuckled, then suddenly feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. “I wanted to step in, but I didn’t know how without actually making it worse. Then I saw you coming,” you paused, sighing. “I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Lando reached out, taking your hands in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “It’s not your fault,” he said reassuringly. “Your Auntie Eleanor has her own set of issues. But Rachel seems strong, I’m sure she’ll handle it.”

You nodded, though the worry lingered in your chest. “I just hope my whole family can be as welcoming to Rachel as they’ve been to you. She deserves that. Nick deserves that.”

“Your family has been incredible to me,” he said. “Your Ah Ma, your Mom, even your Auntie Alix, they’ve all made me feel like I belong, even though I’m not from the same background—traditionally, as you. That means everything to me. It’s rare to find that kind of acceptance.”

You felt your chest warm at his words. “I’m so happy they’ve accepted you,” you murmured. “It makes me love them even more, knowing they see how amazing you are.”

He chuckled lightly, ears turning red at your compliment. “Well,” Lando said, tone turning playful, “Ah Ma did say she expects a grandchild, so I guess I’m officially part of the family now.”

You laughed softly, then tension from the earlier conversation easing slightly. But as you rested your head against his chest, you whispered, “I just hope Rachel gets that chance too. To feel what we have with my family.”

Lando pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice gentle as he said, “she will, it might take time, but your family loves deeply. They’ll come around, and if not, well, Nick and Rachel would always have us. That’s a pretty good start, don’t you think?”

You nodded. “But hey,”

“Hmm?” he hummed, looking at the ceiling aimlessly.

“I was thinking,” you started, “tomorrow’s our last free day before Colin and Araminta’s wedding. I was wondering if it’s okay with you if I spend it with Rachel. I feel like she could use some company, and I’d love to catch up with her one-on-one.”

Lando’s lips curved into a small smile as he nodded. “Of course, love. You don’t need to ask, and I think that’s a great idea.”

“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I don’t want to leave you feeling bored or anything.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, take your time. I can keep myself busy.”

At that, you looked at him with curiosity. “Oh? What’s your plan for the day?”

Lando grinned, “actually, I was thinking of hitting up your Dad for a few rounds of golf. He told me during Ah Ma’s dinner party to let him know anytime I wanted to play, so I figured I’d take him up on that offer.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the thought of Lando and your father on the golf course together. “That sounds perfect. I think he’d love that.”

“It’ll be nice to spend some time with him, and,” he added with a playful grin, “it’ll give me a chance to show him I’ve been practicing my swing.”

You chuckled, “well, don’t let him win too easily, or else he’ll never let you live it down.”

Lando laughed along with you, then leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Go spend the day with Rachel,” he said warmly. “I’ll be fine, and later, you can tell me all about it over dinner.”

“Deal,” you said with a grin.

The warm scent of roasted coffee filled the air as you and Rachel sat across from each other at the small patio table. The sunlight filtered gently through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the table between your cups of coffee. Rachel stirred her latte absentmindedly, her eyes occasionally drifting to the street beyond before meeting yours.

“I’m really glad you agreed to meet with me,” you began, voice steady but soft.

Rachel offered a small smile, though it did not quite reach her eyes. “Of course. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk after everything.”

You took a deep breath, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “I wanted to talk because I owe you an apology. For everything.”

She tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing. But she let you continue speaking.

“I’m sorry for how you were treated at the dinner party by my family,” you continued, gazing at her earnestly. “Especially by my Auntie Eleanor. I know she was cruel, and I won’t make any excuses for her just because she’s family. You didn’t deserve that.”

Rachel let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she leaned back in her chair. “Thank you for saying that, it truly means a lot.”

There was a brief pause before you added, “and I need to come clean about something.”

“I overheard everything Auntie Eleanor said to you by the staircase,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands for a moment before looking back at her. “It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, I swear. I was going to get something from the car, and I happened to pass by.”

She studied you for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Honestly, I’m not even surprised you overheard. She wasn’t exactly trying to whisper.”

You gave a small, rueful smile. “Still, I should have stepped in sooner. I hate that she made you feel the way you did.”

Rachel’s grip on her coffee cup tightened briefly before she let out a small, humorless laugh. “It was pretty intense, I’ve got to say,” she admitted. “I mean, I felt like I was going to cry and puke all at once.”

The two of you exchange a glance before breaking into laughter. The sound was a relief, breaking the lingering tension like the first warm breeze after a storm.

“Well,” you said. “I bet if you tell her that you’d leave Nick for a million of dollars, she’d write that check on the spot.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she burst into laughter again, this time louder and freer. “You think so?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you replied, grinning. “It’s a pretty normal thing to do here. A million-dollar breakup is just another Tuesday.”

Rachel shook her head, still laughing, and took a sip of her latte. “That’s terrible.”

“Maybe it is,” you smiled and shrugged. “But I know my Auntie Eleanor.”

She then set her coffee cup down, fingers fiddling with the edge of her napkin as her expression shifted something akin to serious.

“You know, I just…I don’t even know what to do anymore. Whether I will tell Nick everything or not,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I can see how much Nick practically worships his Mom. I mean, it’s like she can do no wrong in his eyes.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “I fully understand that,” you said carefully, tone gently. “It’s common, especially with Chinese sons. They hold their mothers on a very high pedestal, and it’s not just cultural, it’s ingrained, passed down through generations. Mothers are revered, respected almost to a fault.”

Rachel let out a small, defeated sigh, leaning back in her chair. “So what am I supposed to do? Compete with that?”

You shook your head, giving her a smile. “No, you don’t need to compete with anyone. Look, on the bright side of all things, Ah Ma loves you. Did you notice how she complimented you yesterday? That’s pretty big.”

Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought back, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “She did, didn’t she? I was not really sure what to make of it at first, but I guess that was her way of showing approval.”

“Exactly,” you said. “Let Auntie Eleanor stew in her own bitterness if she wants to. She can hate you all day long or even her whole life if that’s what she’s determined to do.”

“That’s…comforting?” she raised an eyebrow, her smile wavering.

“Just let Auntie Eleanor be, she has nothing against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.” you chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked, intrigued but unsure.

You gestured gently with your hand, voice steady but light. “At the end of the day, it’s not really about Auntie Eleanor. It’s about what Ah Ma thinks, and in this family, her opinion carries the most weight, and she’s already decided that she likes you. Auntie Eleanor might throw tantrums and make her snide comments, but she can’t overturn the foundation of how this family works. What Ah Ma says, goes.”

Rachel sat back, her lips curving into a small, thoughtful smile. “So, you’re saying that I don’t need to fight back? Just let her do her thing?”

You nodded. “Exactly. She’s not the one you’re trying to win over, and frankly, she doesn’t hold the power she thinks she does. As long as Ah Ma’s around and on your side, you’re practically untouchable.”

“You make it sound so simple.” she let out a soft laugh, her tension finally easing.

“It’s not simple,” you admitted with a small shrug, “but it’s the truth. You’re a part of this family now, Rachel—whether they like it or not, and you’ve already got the most important ally you could ask for.”

Rachel’s smile grew warmer, and for the first time, she looked truly at ease. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I needed to hear that.”

The midday sun cast long shadows over the manicured fairways of Sentosa Golf Club. Lando steadied his swing, aiming for the flag ahead. Your father stood a few paces behind, watching his stance with an appraising eye. The gentle rustling of the trees and occasional chirping of birds provided the only background noise. Lando took the shot—clean, low drive that rolled smoothly onto the green.

“Good shot,” your father remarked, nodding in approval as they walked toward the cart together.

“Thank you,” Lando replied, brushing his hands against his shorts.

As they drove to the next hole, your father leaned back slightly, gaze fixed ahead. “So, Lando,” your father began, his tone casual. “What are your plans?”

Lando glanced at him, slightly startled by the abruptness of the question. “Plans, sir? You mean with golf? Or…generally?”

Your father chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, no. Not with golf, I meant your plans for the future. It’s a broad question, I know, but I’m curious.”

He straightened. “Oh, well…I’m focused on my career right now, of course. Racing tends to keep me pretty busy, but I try to balance things as best as I can.”

Your father nodded as they both stepped out of the cart. He let a few moments pass before continuing, voice taking on a more serious tone. “When my wife came back from her mother’s estate last night, she mentioned something to me over dinner.”

Lando tilted his head, curious. “What is it?”

“She said that Ah Ma gave you and my daughter her approval,” your father said, eyes steady on Lando. “Ah Ma hopes your relationship will end in marriage someday.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the statement, or just how straightforward your father is. He shifted his weight slightly, unsure of how to respond to your father.

Your father, noticing his hesitation, offered a small smile. “Don’t worry, Lando. I’m not here to pressure or scare you away. But I thought it might be important for you to understand something about how everything goes on around here.”

“In our culture,” your father explained as he placed the golf ball on the tee, “relationships are viewed differently than in the West. They’re not just about love or companionship, they’re built on sacrifice, duty, and responsibility. When you commit to someone, you’re committing to the entirety of it all—even to the family. It’s a partnership that demands effort and selflessness.”

“Now,” your father took his shot—a smooth, powerful drive that sent the ball soaring down the fairway. He straightened and turned back to Lando, resting the driver on his shoulder. “I’m not saying this to intimidate you. It’s far from it. I know how much my daughter cares for you, and from what I’ve seen, you care for her just as much. But I want to make sure you understand what this means to us—our family and her. It’s not just about dating or having fun. It’s about building a life together.”

Lando swallowed, feeling the weight of your father’s words. “I…I get that, sir. I really do, and I want you to know that I take our relationship seriously. She’s,” he paused, searching for the right words. “She’s the most important person in my life. I may not have everything figured out yet, but I’m fully committed to her. I want to make her happy and support her in every way I can.”

Your father studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s good to hear, Lando. You’re a good man, and that’s all I needed to know.”

Lando exhaled softly, relieved but still thoughtful. Your father clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s see if you can make this shot. I’m one up on you, and I don’t plan on losing today.”

”We’ll see about that, sir.” Lando grinned.

The two of them had just finished their round and were sitting in the shaded patio area of the clubhouse, sipping on cold drinks. Your father leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed.

“You know, back in her teens, she was quite the handful.” your father began, voice carrying an edge of humor.

Lando turned to him, intrigued but slightly nervous. “Oh?”

Your father nodded, a sly smile on his face. “She used to escape the house and date boys behind our backs. Thought she was clever about it too.”

Lando’s lips twitched into a smile, imagining you as a teenager, trying to outsmart your parents. “Really? I can’t imagine her sneaking around like that.”

“Oh, she was good,” your father said, in a playful tone. “She never introduced us to those boys, but we always knew who they were. We made it our business to know. Still, we never made a fuss, we figured she’d grow out of it—and she did.”

He just smiles as your father tells these little snippets of anecdotes of your life that you had never told Lando before. Lando just kept silent, and continued listening to your father.

“So when she introduced you to us, we were shocked to be honest.” your father laughed, a deeper, more genuine sound. “It was the first time she brought someone home. That was our first indication that this was serious, different from anything she’d had before.”

“To tell you the truth,” your father continued, tone shifting to something more reflective. “We always thought she’d end up seriously dating one of the sons from our family’s business partners, since that’s how these things tend to go. But looking at it now, we’re thankful that it’s you.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard. “Thankful? Why’s that?”

Your father leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Because those boys, they have big, fragile egos. Pampered from birth, they’ve never had to work for anything, and never had to learn humility. Trust me, there’s nothing worse than a man who can’t admit his faults.” he looked at Lando meaningfully. “You’re nothing like that, you’ve worked hard for everything you’ve achieved. You respect her, and that means a lot to us.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lando replied as he felt a warmth spread through his chest. “That really means a lot to me.”

Your father nodded, a small but approving smile on his face. “Just don’t let her outplay you on the course of life, Lando. She might be silent and reserved most of the time, but she’s competitive.”

Lando laughed. “Oh, I know. She’s already winning in a lot of ways.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” your father regarded him for a moment, then smiled. “Now, shall we see if they have any dessert worth trying here? Golf always leaves me craving something sweet.”

“Sounds good to me, sir.” Lando chuckled.

The house was still dark when you arrived, a quiet stillness greeting you as you set your things down and flicked on the lights. After slipping into more comfortable clothes—a loose white shirt and soft shorts, you made your way to the kitchen.

You had informed Lando earlier that you had decided it would be steak night, so you tied your back and opened the fridge, pulling out the steak to defrost, then setting them on the counter before gathering ingredients for the side dishes. You peeled and chopped the potatoes, boiling them in a pot of salted water, and then turned your attention to the vegetables.

Then you sliced the carrots, zucchini, and bell peppers—the rhythm of chopping and preparing was soothing, you then drizzled them with olive oil, sprinkled them with salt and pepper, then slid the tray into the oven to roast.

By the time the vegetables were roasting and the potatoes were soft, the steaks were now finally defrosted. You began to season them generously with salt, pepper, and a hint of garlic powder, then heated a cast-iron skillet until it was searing hot. The steaks sizzled as they hit the pan, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma of cooking meat.

While the steaks rested, you drained the potatoes and mashed them with butter, cream, and a touch of garlic. The creamy texture was perfect, and you set the pot aside before arranging everything on the plate.

Tonight, you wanted to dine outside by the pool deck, where the view of the city lights was nothing short of magical. Grabbing a couple stacks of plates and utensils, you stepped out to the deck and set the table. The air was cool, and the glow from the pool lights danced against the walls, creating a cozy ambiance.

Just as you returned to the kitchen to plate the food, you felt an arm wrapped around your waist and a soft kiss pressed to your cheek. Startled, you spun around to see Lando smiling down at you, hair slightly mussed from the day.

“You scared me!” you said with a laugh, leaning up to kiss him on the lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “It smells amazing in here.”

“So, how was your day with Dad?” you asked smiling, brushing a hand over his arm.

“It was good,” he replied. “Tiring, but good. I think I held my own.”

You smiled at that and patted his chest gently. “Go change into something comfortable and grab a bottle of wine from the rack, we’re eating outside by the pool deck.”

“On it,” Lando said with a quick kiss to your temple before heading off to the bedroom.

You carried the plated food out to the pool deck, setting it down on the table. The city lights twinkled in the distance as you adjusted the chairs and smoothed the tablecloth. Lando soon joined you, a bottle of red wine in hand, dressed in a simple shirt and joggers.

“That looks incredible, love.” he said as he set the wine down and pulled out a chair for you.

“Why thank you,” you smiled, settling in on the chair. “Let’s eat.”

As the two of you began eating, the sound of clinking utensils and the occasional splash of water from the pool filled the serene evening air. You cut into your steak and took a bite before glancing at Lando, who was pouring wine into both of your glasses.

“So, as promised,” you began, setting your form down for a moment. “I wanted to tell you about the conversation that I had with Rachel earlier when I met up with her.”

Lando looked up from his glass, giving you his full attention. “Yeah? How did it go by the way, how’s she holding up?”

”She’s trying, but she’s still shaken from what happened with Auntie Eleanor.” you replied. “She told me that she finds it hard to tell Nick everything because Nicky practically worships her Mom, because well, that’s how Chinese sons are—they think their Moms fart Chanel No.5.”

He froze for a moment, processing what you said, and then burst into laughter. Lando set down his wine glass as he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

“That’s such an oddly specific comparison, babe. But honestly,” Lando said through his laughter, “it’s kind of perfect. I admit that at times, I notice that’s how Nick acts around Auntie Eleanor, isn’t it?”

“Yup,” you confirmed as you took another bite of your steam. “Rachel feels like Nick would never fully stand up to his mother and I get why she’s worried. But I explained to her how Auntie Eleanor is basically defenseless against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.”

“Filial piety?” Lando repeated, brows furrowing slightly.

You took a sip of wine, then set the glass down carefully before explaining. “It’s this concept in Chinese culture that emphasizes respect, obedience, and care for your parents and elders.” you continued, “it’s not just about being polite, it’s deeply rooted in our traditions and values. Sons, in particular, are expected to honor their mothers in every way possible. That’s why it sometimes feels like their Moms can do no wrong.”

Lando nodded slowly, taking in your words. “So it’s more than just a family dynamic—it’s cultural, like a duty?”

“Exactly,” you said with a small smile. “It’s why Rachel feels the way she does, but I told her that she shouldn’t worry too much. Ah Ma has taken a liking on her, and that’s already a gold sign. Auntie Eleanor might act high and mighty, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t really have a say in Ah Ma’s decisions.”

“Basically, you’re saying that Auntie Eleanor has no powers here?” he tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Not over Ah Ma, no. Hell no,” you said, chuckling. “And honestly, I think it’s about time someone stood up to Auntie Eleanor. Rachel is strong, even if she doesn’t always realize it, Nick and her will be fine. It’s just a matter of time she finds her own footing and Nick learning to balance his loyalty to Auntie Eleanor with his commitment to Rachel.”

Lando chuckled softly, raising his wine glass. “Well, here’s to Rachel and Nick figuring it out, and to Ah Ma—who clearly runs the show.”

You clink your wine glass against Lando’s with a grin. “Family is really fucking complicated, but hey, cheers to that.”

When Lando finished the last bite of his steak, he set his fork down with a satisfied sigh. “Speaking of Ah ma,” he began, swirling his wine glass, “you Dad told me something very interesting stuff today.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? What did he say?”

Lando smiled, leaning back in his chair. “He mentioned how he knew that Ah Ma already gave us her blessing and that she’s expecting this relationship to end up in marriage.”

You froze mid-bite, fork hovering above your plate. “Wait,” you said slowly, “did Dad give you the talk?”

His grin widened, and before he could even answer, you groaned and buried your face in your hands. “Oh my fucking god, that’s so embarrassing.” you mumbled, voice muffled.

“It wasn’t bad,” Lando said laughing. “He was just laying it all out on me. Talking about how serious relationships are in your culture and how family values commitment. Honestly, I kind of expected it.”

You peaked through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Still,” you muttered, “he didn’t have to do that.”

Lando leaned forward, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, but that’s not all he told me.”

Your hands dropped from your face, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What else did he say?”

He smirked. “Apparently, back then you had a rebellious streak. Sneaking out to go on dates with different boys, huh?”

You groaned, slumping back in your chair. “Nooo. He did not tell you that.”

“Oh, he did,” Lando teased, clearly enjoying himself. “And he said that they knew exactly who those boys were because they were keeping track.”

Your head dropped to the table with a dramatic thud. “Why does Dad always have the need to air my embarrassing phase like that,” you said, voice muffled against the table.

Lando laughed. “Hey, it’s not that bad,” he reassured you.

Lifting your head, you frowned at him, still mortified. “Okay, but in my defense, I always had a feeling that they knew. Especially dad. I wasn’t exactly completely sure, you know? But now…” you sighed, gesturing at him. “Now I know that they know. Great.”

He reached across the table, fingers brushing against yours. “Is that why none of those boys ever made it past your family’s front door?”

“Yup,” you said, nodding. “Not a single one got far enough to meet my parents, I couldn’t really stand the thought of introducing someone who didn’t actually care about me at all.”

You continued, leaning back in your chair. “Along the way, I realized that they only wanted to be with me because of my family. They saw me as some kind of tool…I guess. Like being with me would give them status, connections, or some kind of benefit.”

Lando’s smile faded slightly, his expression turning serious. “I can imagine how tough it must’ve been.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I just wanted genuine connections, but they just saw me as an opportunity. So, before things got messy, I was always the one who ended it first. That’s why none of them ever got through the door of my parent’s house, or let alone set foot on our estate. They weren’t worth it at all.”

Lando reached across the table, hand covering yours. “Well, for the record, I’m glad your Dad approves of me, and I hope I’ve made it clear that I’m here because of you, not anything else.” he then added, “I do hope that I’ve done a better job at proving I’m not one of those boys.”

You smiled, finger tightening around his. “You’re not even close. You’re nothing like them, Lan. You’ve made it more clear, that’s why you’re here now.”

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the delicate fabric of your gown. The gown was breathtaking, every inch was meticulously crafted by Giambattista Valli himself. The subtle shimmer in the fabric caught the light as you moved, and you smiled, tracing your fingers over the discreet initials that had been embroidered near the hem—a personal touch that made the gown uniquely yours. Lando’s suit complemented you perfectly, a sharp, tailored masterpiece with matching initials of his name on the inner lapel.

Lando adjusted the cuffs on his crisp white dress shirt but fumbled slightly with the cuff links. Noticing his struggle, you stepped in closer, gently taking the cuff links from his hands.

“Here, babe, let me,” you said softly, deftly fastening the sleek gold links.

His eyes met yours, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks, love. You always know how to save me, huh.”

“You’d manage eventually,” you replied with a teasing smile, your fingers lingering for a moment on his wrist. “But we can’t afford to be late.”

Just as you finished, a soft chime from your phone notified you of the arrival of the car. “The car's here,” you said, stepping back to grab your clutch.

Lando picked up his jacket, slipping it on before crossing the room to you. “Ready?” he asked, offering his arm.

“Ready,” you confirmed, taking his arm as he led you to the door.

The car was waiting at the entrance, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. The chauffeur quickly stepped out, opening the door for you, and Lando helped you down the small steps, his hand steady at your back as you navigated the delicate heels you were wearing. He opened the car door, his free hand gently resting on yours as you lowered yourself into the plush interior.

“Careful,” he murmured, making sure you were settled before following after you.

Once he was seated beside you, the car pulled smoothly away, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. You glanced at the matching embroidery on your outfits, a quiet sense of anticipation washing over you as you looked ahead to the day’s events.

The car slowed to a stop in front of the First Methodist Church, the scene outside was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and steady buzz of voices. There was a long line of luxury vehicles stretched down the street, each one spilling out more high-profile guests—foreign dignitaries, government leaders, business tycoons, and a studded lineup of Asia’s brightest stars.

Crowds outside were a sea of media personnel, their cameras aimed and ready to capture every moment of what deemed Singapore’s wedding of the century, akin to Royal Asian Wedding. The chauffeur stepped out and swiftly opened Lando’s door. He exited gracefully, buttoning his tailored suit jacket before turning to offer you a hand. You placed your hand in his, and helped you out of the car.

The moment you fully got out of the car, the flash of the cameras intensified, different photographers yelling questions and calling your names. You paused beside Lando, your arm loosely looped through his, both of you offering calm, poised expressions for the cameras.

“This is a lot,” Lando murmured under his breath, leaning closer so only you could hear.

“Welcome to Singapore’s media circus,” you replied quietly, managing a polite smile as you stood in place for a few more seconds.

The attention was relentless. A few reporters called out to Lando directly, asking for interviews or comments, their voices cutting through the crowd. He shook his head subtly, lifting a hand to politely decline as the two of you turned to make your way towards the church entrance.

You glided across the red carpet, your hand still resting lightly on Lando’s arm. As you approached the grand doors, the tall, ornate arches of the church loomed above, intricate carvings catching the light. The media frenzy continues behind you, but you maintain your composure.

Then, as you entered the threshold, a familiar face came into view, one that is so familiar with you—Francesca Shaw. She stood just off the side, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if assessing everyone in attendance. Her pristine gold dress was undoubtedly designer, her hair styled to perfection.

Your expression shifted instantly, a smile vanishing into a deadpan look. Francesca caught your gaze for a moment, her lips twitching as if she might say something, but your firm expression was enough to make her quickly redirect her attention to something, or rather someone else.

Lando noticed the brief exchange as you both walked past her. “Who’s that?” he asked, voice low but curious.

You glanced at him. “Francesca Shaw,” you replied simply, keeping your tone neutral.

He furrowed his brows. “Should I know who she is? Friend of yours?”

“Fuck no,” you answered quickly. “She was the one that’s responsible for the gutted fish in Rachel’s bed during Minty’s bachelorette party.”

Lando blinked, steps faltering for just a moment. “Wait, that’s her?!”

“Mm-hmm,” you confirmed, leading him further into the church. “Best to steer clear. Nothing good comes from her.”

He nodded, expression tightening slightly as he glanced back toward Francesca. “Noted.”

As you and Lando stepped into the main part of the church, the sheer opulence of the space struck you in awe. The vaulted ceilings were adorned with intricate gold details, and the air was filled with soft strains of a live string quartet stationed discreetly in one corner. Every surface seemed to glisten, whether from the polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, or the hundreds of white orchids cascading over every available surface. It was evident that no expense had been spared—the grandeur practically screamed wealth and power.

Lando’s eyes scanned the space as he whistled low, “this is extravagant.”

You smiled, leaning slightly closer to him as you whispered back, “wait until you see the reception. This is just the warm-up.”

You and Lando moved further into the church, where you caught sight of your family by one of the pews. Your mother stood alongside your Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, their presence commanding attention as they chatted with a group of equally polished society wives. It was a familiar tableau—your aunts all clustered together, forming an impenetrable circle of sharp eyes and even more sharper tongues.

Predictably, your Auntie Eleanor seemed to be critiquing the whole setup. She gestured subtly towards the floral arrangements, her expression a mix of disapproval and thinly veiled judgement. While your Auntie Jacqueline, ever the pragmatist, seemed to be nodding in agreement, and your mother maintained her usual composed smile, occasionally offering diplomatic comments.

You and Lando approached them briefly, exchanging polite greetings. Your mother’s smile softened when she saw you, and she leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“You look very lovely, my darling,” she said, before glancing at Lando and adding, “and the two of you together—perfection, as always!”

After a few moments of pleasantries, you had excused yourselves, knowing the four of them would stick together for the ceremony and be seated in the same pew.

You made your way to the second row, you noted that the first row had been reserved for the Khoos and Lees, with Colin and Araminta’s immediate families already seated. You scanned the room quickly but no sign of Rachel yet, though Nick was near the altar with Colin and the other groomsmen, laughing and chatting. You assumed Rachel must be somewhere nearby.

Upon reaching your seats, you and Lando slid into the second row, settling into the plush velvet cushions. Three rows behind you, your mother and aunts had taken their places, their polished presence unmistakable even without turning around.

You leaned towards Lando, lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “So, I heard from Auntie Alix,” you began, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, “that Colin and Minty’s family spent sixty-five million dollars on this wedding.”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly, though he managed to keep his expression neutral. “Sixty-five?” he repeated under his breath.

You nodded, biting back a laugh as you added, “and it made me laugh because I heard Auntie Jacqueline said, ‘we’re Methodists, forty million is our maximum budget for a wedding like this.’”

That was enough to make Lando chuckle softly and shake his head in disbelief. “Forty million is the maximum?” he echoed, tone incredulous but amused.

You grinned, leaning back slightly but keeping your voice low. “Apparently, anything above that is considered excessive—even by our standards.”

Then, you turned around discreetly in your seat to scan the church again, searching for Rachel. It didn’t take long to spot her, she had just arrived and was being greeted warmly by Oliver by the entrance. She moved with a quiet confidence, her luminous presence immediately drawing attention. Heads all turning as she walked past, captivated by the stunning dress she wore—a rich light blue that complimented her complexion perfectly and subtly shimmered in the light.

Your aunts, seated a few rows behind you, were visibly taken aback. Auntie Eleanor, who rarely displays much reaction, looked momentarily stunned, her usual sharp expression softening into one of unguarded surprise. Your Auntie Alix leaned closer to whisper something to her, and Auntie Jacqueline adjusted her posture, almost as if reevaluating Rachel in that moment.

Your mother, however, was all warmth. You could see her beaming brightly at Rachel, her smile filled with genuine approval. You knew immediately what she was thinking, she completely adored the dress and the elegance Rachel exuded.

But something else caught your attention. Rachel glanced towards the pew where your mother and aunts were seated, but she didn’t move towards them. It was obvious she had not been invited to sit with them. Likely, they had made some excuses about how their pew was full, even though you could see there was space.

Rachel hesitated for a brief moment, her eyes scanning the room for an empty seat. Without thinking twice, you raised your hand and waved her over, her eyes lighting up when she saw you, and she made her way towards you. When she reached you, you immediately stood up and pulled her into a warm hug.

“You look absolutely incredible,” you whispered, meaning every word. You stepped back slightly to admire the dress. “That color on you, it’s just so perfect.”

Rachel smiled, her cheeks flushing just slightly. “Thank you,” she replied softly, clearly touched by the compliment.

You gestured to the space beside you. “Come, come. Sit with us,” you said, nodding toward the pew. “There’s plenty of room here.”

She hesitated for only a second before accepting. “Thank you,” she said, voice genuine.

Rachel slid into the pew beside you, and you could feel a subtle sense of relief in her presence as she settled into the seat. Lando leaned over slightly to greet Rachel with a polite nod and warm smile, and exchanged a quick look with him, silently acknowledging how significant this small act of kindness was, especially considering the dynamics at play.

Then, the murmur of the crowd faded into silence as Colin, Nick, and the four other groomsmen made their entrance alongside the pastor. Together, they formed an impeccable picture of elegance and charm, with their perfectly tailored suits catching the soft glow of the church lights. They walked with synchronized strides, confident yet there’s a reverent air about them, like a dashing pack.

Your attention drifted to Rachel, seated beside you, and the way her expression softened when her eyes found Nick. You caught the subtle shift in her demeanor as their gazes locked, a quiet exchange of affection that needed no words. There was something magnetic about the way they looked at each other, as though the entire room fell away for just a brief moment.

A hush of anticipation swept over the congregation as Kina Grannis took the stage by the live string quartet. Her voice rose delicately, the familiar strains of I Can’t Help Falling in Love filled the whole church with a dreamy, romantic air. The melody was sweet and tender, it struck a chord deep within, making the atmosphere impossibly more magical.

Two tiny figures appeared at the entrance—adorable flower girls, their tiny hands clasping wicker baskets as they scattered delicate petals along the aisle. They moved in a choreographed sweetness, bright smiles stealing the hearts of everyone in the room.

Behind them, toddled an equally charming ring bearer, clutching the pillow with seriousness that belied his young age. Each careful step he took earned a quiet chuckle from the crowd, his determination clear as he reached the altar. Nick crouched slightly, taking the ring pillow from the boy, and the playful high-five exchanged between them drew a ripple of soft laughter and smiles.

There was a collective gasp echoing through the church. Water began to flow, a gentle cascade spilling onto the aisle, shimmering as it caught the light. It trickled in perfect harmony, creating a luminous, rippling path that stretched from the entrance to the altar. The sound of water intertwined with the stillness of the music, holding everyone in awe.

The lights dimmed suddenly, and the soft flicker of long delicate stems with glowing tips spread through the crowd like fireflies. One by one, everyone in the congregation reached for the stems and held it aloft, their glittery illumination casting a celestial over the church, all eyes turning towards the entrance.

A group of bridesmaids stood poised, holding beautifully decorated large fronds that veiled what could only be Araminta. Their positioning was precise, deliberate, and graceful. With a choreographed motion, the bridesmaids slowly lifted the fronds, revealing Araminta, standing right next to her father. The moment was breathtaking—she radiated an ethereal elegance that made her appear almost otherworldly.

Araminta held her father’s hand as she gracefully stepped out of her towering heels. The hushed audience barely had a chance to react before she stepped forward, placing her bare feet onto the watery aisle. The music resumed, delicate yet triumphant, as she began her slow, graceful walk.

The bridesmaids followed closely behind her, their steps echoing her elegance, as the congregation swayed their glittery lights in unison. It was a scene out of a dream, a river of light and water that guided Araminta towards her future. From your seat, you could see Colin at the altar, his composed demeanor wavered, expression softening as he took in the sight of Araminta, eyes glistening with unshed tears, emotion written plainly on his face.

You didn’t exactly know what came over you, but as you sat there in the church, watching Colin and Araminta exchange glances filled with love and anticipation, a thought took root inside your mind. The entire wedding, its grandeur, intimacy, and the sense of two people stepping into forever had stirred something within you. It was not a matter of envy or longing for the spectacle itself, but it was the way Colin looked at Araminta—the way she smiled back at him, and the unspoken promise that passed between them.

Perhaps, selfishly, you found yourself imagining that kind of future for yourself. Not just marriage for the sake of it, but a marriage with Lando. The idea settled gently, not as a plan or something to be rushed, but as a hope—a quiet wish for someday. Though it was still too early now, you both were at the top of your careers, still growing individually and as a couple. A year of dating was only the beginning, and there was no need to rush, but the seed of the thought was already there, talking with surprising ease.

It made you genuinely happy to see Colin and Araminta standing at the altar. You had been an observer of their relationship from the beginning, a silent witness to the small and significant moments that had brought them to this day.

Growing up, Colin had been a near-constant presence in your family’s life, a fixture at every gathering and celebration. He was practically an honorary member of your family, and it felt like he belonged there just as much as anyone else. You had seen how Colin pined for Araminta, how he had talked Nick’s ear off about her, recounting every detail of their interactions with the kind of fervor only someone deeply in love could manage. Nick had confided that much to you during your conversations over the years, shaking his head fondly at how his best friend could turn any discussion into one about Araminta.

Your relationship with Nick has always been different from that with your other cousins. Despite the age gap, there was a closeness there that came naturally. Unlike many of your other cousins, who were either too competitive or too caught up in their own bubbles, Nick had always been kind, grounded, and someone you can rely on. Growing up, you often found yourself gravitating towards him, trusting him in ways you could not with the others.

So, seeing Colin—Nick’s best friend, your family’s honorary member, now finally standing with Araminta, the woman he had loved for so long, felt like a full circle of something extraordinary. It made you believe in the kind of love that could weather time and challenges, the kind of love that could one day be yours with Lando.

The reception took place at Gardens by the Bay, where the Botanical Gardens had been transformed into a scene straight out of fairytales. It was utterly breathtaking—every detail meticulously designed to create an almost otherworldly atmosphere. The iconic supertrees stretched overhead, illuminated with soft lights that shimmered in sync with the music. A Chinese big band played softly, filling the air with a nostalgic charm, while fireworks erupted in bursts of vibrant color against the dark night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the festivities.

Colin and Araminta were having their first dance at the center of it all, moving effortlessly in harmony. The wedding party stood loosely circled around them, watching the moment in admiration. You stood close to Lando, his arms loosely draped around your waist, holding you gently but securely. Chest pressed against your back as he swayed with you to the rhythm of the music, a silent echo of the couple’s dance.

Lando leaned in closer, voice low and intimate as he said, “you know, I didn’t really get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look absolutely stunning today, baby.”

His words caught you slightly off guard, but the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten with warmth. Before you could respond, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, lingering just long enough for his breath to tickle your skin.

“And this dress,” he added, lips brushing against your exposed shoulder now, “it’s beautiful. But it doesn’t even come close to how insanely beautiful you are.”

Your heart raced as Lando shifted, tilting your face gently towards his. His lips captured yours in a kiss, slow and tender, yet filled with a quiet intensity that made the world around you momentarily dissolve. When Lando pulled back, his eyes met yours, a glint of affection and something deeper reflecting in the warm light of the supertrees.

When Colin and Araminta’s first dance came to an end, the band seamlessly transitioned to a lively and upbeat tune. The atmosphere shifted immediately, with laughter bubbling through the crowd, and Araminta, radiant and full of energy, already had an outfit change, began beckoning guests onto the dance floor.

“Come on, come on!” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “The party isn’t going to dance itself!”

You and Lando exchanged a quick glance, a shared look of amusement and anticipation. Without any single hesitation, he took your hand gently, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Let’s go,” he said, tone light and teasing.

“Lan, babe, I don’t really—” you began, hesitating slightly, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“You’re with me,” he assured, grinning reassuringly. “I won’t let you look awkward, I promise.”

The music pulsed through the whole garden, and the dance floor was quickly filling with guests, each one letting loose in the joyful chaos of the celebration, singing along with the band. You had never considered yourself much of a dancer, the thought of dancing always made you self-conscious. Your movements felt stiff and unnatural, and the fear of looking out of place usually kept you from even trying. But with Lando, it was different.

Lando kept a firm but gentle grip on your hand, spinning you lightly to the rhythm of Wo Yao Ni De Ai. His energy was very contagious, movements all natural and easy, and he guided you effortlessly, making sure you felt comfortable.

“Just follow my lead,” he said, voice steady over the music. “And don’t think about it too much.”

You did as he said, allowing yourself to let go of the self-consciousness. You focused on him, and only him—Lando’s playful smile, the way his hands steadied you, the warmth of his presence. Soon, the tension that you’re feeling in your body eased, and you found yourself laughing as you moved to the beat.

“I told you you'd be fine,” Lando said, voice filled with a playful confidence.

“I still think I look very ridiculous,” you replied, laughter spilling out.

“You look amazing,” he countered without missing a beat.

The two of you moved seamlessly among the crowd, completely immersed in the music and the moment. Lando twirled you under his arm, making you laugh again as you stumbled slightly, but his steady hands caught you before you could lose balance.

As the music reached its end, he pulled you in closer. Lando’s movements slowed, the lively rhythm fading into the background as his gaze locked with yours. There was an intensity in his eyes, a soft, unspoken emotion that made you breath catch. Without a word, he leaned in, lips capturing yours in a kiss—gentle, tender, and filled with quiet passion that seemed to echo everything unsaid between you.

When he pulled back, a small smile played on his lips. “See? You’re a natural,” he teased, tone soft and warm.

You just rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The music had picked up again, and without hesitation, you two returned to the rhythm of the night, dancing together with an ease and happiness that made the rest of the world fade away, leaving you and Lando in a little bubble that you made yourself.

As the party went on, you and Lando continued swaying to the rhythm of the music, letting the night carry you in its revelry. The energy of the party was contagious, and you both were determined to make the most of it. The crowd around you was lively, a series of laughter and chatter blending into the music.

Suddenly, someone bumped into you, jostling you slightly. Turning to see who it was, you found yourself face-to-face with Rachel, who was looking very upset, her expression disoriented and distressed as she weaved through the throng of dancing guests.

“Rachel?” you called out, instinctively reaching out to her, your brows furrowing with concern.

Lando gently let go of your hand, his expression mirroring yours. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Rachel, however, did not respond. She seemed lost in her thoughts, her gaze darting around as if trying to find something, or someone. Her pace was erratic and quickened as she moved further into the crowd.

You were about to follow her when a piercing scream cut through the music, causing heads to turn. There was laughter and the unmistakable hum of a crowd gathering, phones were raised in unison, their screens glowing as guests pointed toward something, or someone hidden behind the bushes near the edge of the garden.

Your stomach dropped as you and Lando turned to see what the commotion was about. Emerging from the bushes was half-naked Bernard Tai, his shirt already gone and his pants barely clinging to his hips. His movements were chaotic, clearly drunk, and he pawed at Kitty Pong, who struggled to pull herself away.

Kitty, the girlfriend of your cousin Alistair, looked utterly mortified. Her dress was disheveled, and her face was flushed with shame as she desperately tried to cover herself. Bernard, oblivious to the humiliation that they are now facing and radiating off of Kitty, stumbles toward her again, but she shoves him back.

The crowd wasn’t really helping. Instead of intervening, they just stood there, laughing, and some guests outright pointing and jeering, others filming the entire scene as Kitty managed to pull her dress up and flee from the scene, heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she disappeared into the night.

You felt a mix of shock and disgust twist in your stomach, gaze flicking between the fleeing Kitty and the drunken Bernard, who was now slumped against a nearby table, seemingly unaware, or uncaring, of the chaos he had caused. At Colin and Araminta’s wedding, nonetheless.

Lando shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath.

Though your attention snapped back to Rachel. She had managed to stop briefly during the commotion, her body all stiff and face unreadable as she watched the scene unfold.

“Rachel!” you called again, but by the time you stepped forward, she was already gone, melting into the crowd and disappearing from view.

A few moments later, Nick came running toward you and Lando, face flushed and breathing uneven. “Have you guys seen Rachel?” he asked urgently, eyes scanning the crowd as though hoping she might reappear.

You glanced back toward the direction Rachel had gone, your worry mounting. “She was just here, but—”

“She already left, mate.” Lando finished, voice somber.

Nick looked around frantically, but it was clear he was too late. Rachel was already nowhere to be found, and whatever had just unfolded seemed to mark the abrupt descent of what had been.

As the night wound down, you and Lando decided it was time to call it a day. The events of the wedding had been unforgettable, but the exhaustion was starting to creep in. Knowing that you only had one day left in Singapore before flying to the UK for Christmas, you both set out to find Colin and Araminta to thank them properly.

After weaving through the remaining guests hand in hand, you finally spotted the newlyweds near the dance floor, glowing with happiness as they spoke to family and friends. When you approached, Colin was the first to notice, greeting you and Lando with a wide smile.

“Hey, you two! Having a good time?” Colin asked, tone warm and genuine.

“A very amazing time,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you so much for inviting us. This was truly the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to.”

“Absolutely,” Lando added, nodding. “It was really incredible. Congratulations again to both of you.”

Araminta beamed, her hands resting lightly on Colin’s arm. “Thank you so much for coming. It means the world to us to have you here.”

“Though we wish we could’ve stayed longer,” you said, “but we’re flying back to the UK the day after tomorrow to spend Christmas with Lan’s family.”

Araminta’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s very wonderful! But before you go, we absolutely need a picture together.”

She glanced around and quickly called over a photographer, waving him toward your small group. “We need a picture of the four of us,” she told the photographer with a laugh.

The photographer positioned all of you, and Colin gently placed a hand on Lando’s shoulder while Araminta stood beside you, her arm lightly around your waist. The flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly.

“Wait, wait,” Araminta said after the photographer stepped away. “We need one on your phone too!”

You quickly pulled out your phone, handing it to her so she could take the picture. She directed Colin to pull in a little closer so you could all fit on the frame. This time, the pose was more casual, with everyone leaning in and smiling brightly.

After the pictures were taken, Colin suddenly chimed in. “Oh, by the way, Harrison mentioned the other day that you’re moving to Monaco soon?”

You nodded. “That’s the plan. Everything’s set to go in a few weeks.”

“Then we’ll probably see you in Monaco soon!” Araminta said with a smile. “We’ve got a few trips planned early next year.”

“Definitely! Let us know when you’re coming,” Lando said. “We’ll take you around and catch up.”

“For sure, man! Absolutely.” Colin replied, grinning wide.

You and Lando hugged Colin and Araminta goodbye, exchanging heartfelt well wishes for their honeymoon and married life ahead. As you turned to leave, Araminta gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas!” she said happily.

“Merry Christmas!” you and Lando said in unison before heading off to find your mother.

Your mother was seated at a table, chatting animatedly with your Auntie Eleanor. When she saw you approach, she stood up and pulled you into a warm embrace.

“You two leaving already?” she asked, tone affectionate.

“We are,” you said softly. “But it was such a beautiful wedding. Everything was perfect.”

“I’m so glad you could be home,” she replied, smoothing a hand over your arm. “Have a safe flight to the UK, and please give my regards to Lando’s family.”

“We will,” you promised, hugging her tightly once more before stepping back. “Lando and I will be back for the New Year’s.”

Your mother stretched out her arms to Lando, giving him a hug. “Thank you for everything.”

“Take good care of her, okay?” your mother reminded, as she smiled at Lando kindly.

“Always,” Lando replied with quiet sincerity.

When you and Lando finally walked through the door of your home, a deep sense of relief washed over you both. The quiet was a stark contrast to the chaos of the day, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you finally slipped off your heels by the entryway. Lando stretched his arms over his head, letting a low groan before giving you a small smile.

“Fucking finally,” he said, voice filled with exhaustion but tinged with amusement. “Home sweet home. That was…something, huh.”

You nodded, placing your clutch by the glass table. “Eventful doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

After settling down on the couch, you pulled out your phone and sent Rachel a quick text:

Hey, Rachel. I hope you’re okay. If you need anything or just want to talk, I’m always here for you.

You stared at the screen for a few moments before putting the phone down. There was a lot on your mind, but Rachel’s well-being was at the top of the list right now. Lando was already seated, leaning back against the cushions with his tie undone and his jacket draped over the armrest. He turned to you with a tired grin.

“That’s got to be the most entertaining wedding reception I’ve ever been to. Not wild, exactly, but definitely eventful. I mean—” he gestured vaguely with his hands. “What even was that? Who are those people?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You mean Bernard and Kitty?”

“Yeah.” Lando nodded.

You sighed deeply, not really knowing where to begin or how to start the conversation about Bernard and Kitty. “Bernard Tai is…well, where do I even fucking start with that guy? Let’s see…he’s the only son of Dato’ Tai Toh Lui and Carol Tai, an insanely wealthy family. The Tai Fortune is massive, and Bernad’s basically the heir to all of it. He’s a former classmate of Nick and Colin back in the day.”

“And?” Lando prompted, tilting his head.

“And he’s spoiled as fuck,” you said bluntly. “Like, obnoxiously spoiled. He’s been handed everything his entire life and spends his day burning through money on the most ridiculous shit. He lives for excess and has zero accountability for anything he does. Basically, to sum up all of it—he’s a walking disaster who somehow gets away with everything because of daddy’s money and his family’s influence.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by all of it. “Sounds like he’s a real charmer.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s one way to put it.” you hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And then there’s Ms. Kitty Pong.”

“She’s Alistair’s girlfriend, right?” Lando asked, recalling her name from earlier.

“That’s ex-girlfriend now,” you corrected. “Kitty’s…a real piece of work. She used to be a soap opera star who decided to pivot into climbing the social ladder. She’s been trying, well, desperately, to get into the higher social circles here, but that’s not really going well for her.”

You continued, “most people look down on her because they see her as a gold-digger, and honestly, they’re not really wrong. She's always relying on people like Oliver or Corinna Ko-Tung—Fiona’s cousin, to help her navigate these circles.”

Lando frowned slightly. “And Bernard?”

“Not much better, honestly,” you shrugged. “Yes, he’s a part of our circle, but no one takes him seriously because he’s…well, Bernard. After tonight? Him and Kitty just cemented themselves as gossip fodder for weeks, maybe months. What they pulled tonight at Colin and Minty’s wedding reception is only going to add fuel to the fire. Kitty’s already seen as an outsider, and now, people have an excuse to talk, ridicule, and ostracize her even more.”

He let out a low whistle, leaning his head back against the couch. “That’s rough. But honestly, I don’t get why they thought this, of all nights, was the right time to make a scene.”

You exhaled sharply, the frustration you had been holding back starting to bubble up. “Exactly. Colin and Minty’s wedding was supposed to be their moment. They’ve worked so hard to make it perfect, and then Bernard and Kitty come along and turn it into…that.”

Lando reaches over, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t let them ruin it for you. The wedding was still beautiful, and Colin and Minty looked so happy. That’s what matters, right?”

You nodded slowly, trying to let go of your irritation. “Yeah, you’re right. It's just…makes me mad, you know? They deserved better than that.”

They did,” Lando agreed, voice soft. “But it’s already over now, and you can’t control what other people do. All you can do now is focus on the good parts of the day, and trust me, there were a lot of those.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into him. “Thanks for the reminder. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lando pressed a light kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

[softestqueeen]

just a kiss

pairing: aaron hotchner x afab!reader

summary: a kiss under the mistletoe with a certain casanova makes your boyfriend, aaron hotchner, question himself.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, p in v, fingering, jealous!hotch, hurt/comfort, jealousy fucking, slight breeding (i’m just a girl guys), unprotected sex (guys, don’t do that)

wordcount: 1990 words

a/n: better late than never guys, i really wanted to write something for christmas! I’m thinking about writing something short for spencer as well, but i don’t know how much time i will have. But anyways, merry christmas to those who celebrate! enjoy <3

“Oh oh, a mistletoe. You know what that’s means mama, come here and give me a kiss,” your good friend and colleague Derek was already rubbing his hands together before holding them out to you.

You decided to humor him, taking a step closer to him, definitely not expecting him to pull you in and tip you back. Letting out a surprised squeak, you tell Garcia, who was watching the spectacle with wide and curious eyes. “Don’t look Penelope, you don’t wanna see this.”

It was the last thing you said before Derek pressed his lips to you, pulling away with a loud smooch. He lifts you back on your feet again and lets out a laugh, quickly matched by your own laughter.

He gently pats your hip before leaving to join the others in their festive activities around Rossi’s mansion. Garcia immediately lets out an excited squeal which you only answer with a dismissive wave of your hand before following Derek into the heart of the party.

You don’t mind the kiss anymore, until you are alone with your boyfriend Aaron Hotchner. He was standing by the fridge, beer in hand and a frown adorning his handsome face.

Looking around to see if anybody was nearby, you step closer to him, going in for a kiss, which he tried to avert by moving his head. He gives you a tight lip smile before quickly leaving the kitchen, leaving you with a heavy heart and even more confusion.

Why was he acting so weird all of the sudden? Did you do something wrong the last time you saw each other? Yes, your relationship was secret, but you both agreed to keeping it from the team. So, what was wrong?

Following a harmless Christmas tradition under the cheers of Penelope already slipped your mind. You didn’t think it was that much of a deal.

A little while later, while Aaron was still avoiding you like the plague, the two of you unknowingly found yourself under another mistletoe. (damn you, Garcia)

You looked at your (secret) boyfriend, while the team cheared you on. “We don’t have to kiss in front of everyone, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s alright. If they want a show, let’s give them one,” Aaron answers you, a rare smile slipping through. His answer confused you, why was he suddenly talking to you like nothing happened?

Leaning up, you place a quick peck on his lips, briefly placing your hand on his arm. As quickly as it started it was already over again. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, knowing he was never one for PDA.

“Show’s over guys,” you announce before going to the kitchen to fulfil your actual plan of getting a refill for your drink.

Aaron silently follows you, even though he just left the massive kitchen. After watching you for a moment, he asked you the question that had been on his mind since you kissed Derek some time ago.

“Why did Derek get a real kiss?”

“What do you mean?” The confusion was written all over your face.

“Just now, under the mistletoe.” Oh, so that is what this is all about. He continues “I only get a small peck, but you kissed Morgan like it was the last time you would ever kiss someone” in a smaller voice he added “It almost seemed more real with him.”

“Aaron, are you jealous?” You almost let out a small laugh, but his almost pained expression made you hold back. In that moment he looked so small and vulnerable, avoiding your eye.

Stepping forward, you take his hands in yours and tell him “Listen to me now, Hotchner. You’re the only one that I want, yeah? I need you to know that.” Your hands now move to cup his face, his dark eyes meeting yours again, the uncertainty in them slowly fading again. “I only gave you a small peck because of the whole ‘we don’t want to tell the team about us” thing. And of course, when Mr. Flirty himself tips you back for a little smooch under the mistletoe you can’t really say no that easily. And why would I, a seemingly single woman refuse to kiss my very good friend Derek Morgan. But that doesn’t matter now, because you Mr. Aaron Hotchner are it for me, I don’t want anybody else. You understand me?”

Hearing you talk like this made Hotch almost feel a little bit silly. Of course, he loved you and knew that you loved him too. And deep down he knows that he never doubted that, but you kissing Derek made something ugly and green sprout in his mind and he was foolish enough to let it overshadow the love you shared.

“I’m sorry, of course I know. I love you like nobody else but seeing you with somebody younger and more charming made me question myself.” It pained you to know Aaron felt hurt by this.

“No, don’t be sorry. I promise I won’t kiss any more colleagues under the mistletoe. Ok, I think that’s a lie, I have the feeling Prentiss is just waiting for her opportunity.” Your joke had the anticipated effect, making you both laugh. Without thinking you lean up, meeting his already waiting lips in an almost passionate kiss. After parting , you both share a knowing look before departing and joining the party again.

++++

The party continued everybody – even you – oblivious to Aarons inner debate. Of course he knew that you were stable, especially after you reassured him, but something still didn’t let him enjoy the time, especially when you were talking to Derek or as as silly as it may sound, Prentiss. He couldn’t get your comment out of his head, even if it was a joke.

Thankfully there was not just the team at Rossi’s Christmas party, but also a lot of his other friends and fbi people, so it wouldn’t be noticed that the two of you were missing.

He quickly found you and thankfully you weren’t talking to anybody at the moment. Closing the distance, he leaned into you and whispered in your ear. “Meet me upstairs, the first bathroom to your left. You go ahead, I’ll join you in about five minutes, darling.” With a quick kiss to your cheek, he left you alone and went back to the party.

Even if you questioned his behaviour, you also trust this man with your life, so you went upstairs and waited. After almost exactly five minutes you heard a knock and a quiet it’s me, making you open the door.

The moment it was closed again, Aaron connected your lips with his and kissed you like his life depended on it. His hands immediately went to your waist, his grip never faltering for even a second. You let out a surprised squeal but weren’t unhappy with how things turned out, so you immediately returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm, your hands wandering over his arms before letting them rest on his muscular chest.

The unit chief lead you backwards to the sink, turning you around and pressing you against it. The cool tile made you shiver, your thin dress making you feel every dip. You were quickly distracted though, now feeling Aarons massive body against you, his hard cock pressing against your back.

Feeling his length made you gasp. You boyfriends hands rested against your hips again, his lips trailing over the back of your neck and your shoulder.

“You look so beautiful in that dress; it almost kills me to act like I don’t care. Especially when I see everybody looking at you, but you’re mine, aren’t you?”

You were again surprised by his words. Was he really that jealous? Your only answer was a whined only you, before Aaron let his hand wander underneath your dress.

He started stroking your wet cunt through your wet panties, the kissing and his behaviour already having an effect on you. Pressing your ass against his erection, you let out a small moan.

Aaron wanted to be inside of you as fast as he could, so he didn’t hesitate to push your panties to the side and let his finger glide through your folds.

“Already so wet for me, baby. Do you want my cock?” As he was saying that, he slowly pushed one of his thick fingers into you, slowly pumping in and out of you while waiting for an answer.

After a moment you realised he was waiting for an answer, his fingers on you making it hard to concentrate. “Yes, Aaron, need you so bad.”

He swiftly added another finger, now slowly curling them inside of you, preparing you for his length. Letting out another string of moans, your grip his hand, signalling hm to go faster.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close.” It was more of a whine, your head dropping back against his strong shoulder.

Aaron reached forward, hugging your torso against him.

“Let go, come for me, now” it didn’t take more for you. With a breathless call of is name you came undone, your whole body trembling. Aaron supported your weight, his fingers slowly coming to a halt inside of you before pulling out, making you whine.

The unit chief placed a kiss upon your shoulder, before using his now free hand to open up his fly and pull out his rock hard cock. He gave himself a few slow pumps, spreading your remaining wetness over his length.

He properly bunched up your dress to your waist and pulled your panties to the side again, before lining his tip up with your hole. Slowly he buried himself inside of you, his hand now going to your mouth to muffle your moans.

Your eyes closed, you already anticipate the heavenly feeling of him rubbing against your walls and moments later he starts moving. First slowly, giving you a moment to adjust to his length, and then he starts pounding into you, as if to get you both to your release as fast as possible.

The only sounds in the small bathroom were skin slapping against skin and your mixed moans and groans.

Aaron moves his hand, gripping your face and directing it to the mirror in front of you. “Look at you, so pretty. All just for me. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, huh?” His possessive words make your pussy throb and your walls contract around his cock. You’ve never seen your boyfriend act like this, but you weren’t complaining.

“Only you Aaron, only you,” you breathed out, already feeling your release, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap.

“Please Aaron, I’m so close. Please cum with me, fill me up,” was all you could get out before your whole body started to tremble again, your second orgasm hitting you even harder as the firs. If it wasn’t for your boyfriend holding you up, you would have already slumped forward.

“Fuck,” was all Aaron could get out before his cock twitched and released inside of you. He halted his movements and buried himself to the tilt, now using both of his hands to hug you close to him.

Once you’ve both calmed down, he pulled out and moved your panties back and your dress back down.

“Don’t wipe it away, leave it as a reminder as to who you belong to.” He told you gentle, before adding, “I’m going to go back to the party, follow me after a few minutes.”

He placed another kiss against your lips before pulling away completely to leave the room, leaving you breathless and satisfied.

You were both sure about your relationship now and even when Prentiss eventually gets you under the mistletoe and leaves a very passionate kiss on your lips, the wetness in your panties is a gentle reminder to who you belong to.

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @bigbananaa

[somerandomcockroach]

PLEASE WHEEEEEEEEZEEEEEEE

*DYING BIRD SOUNDS*

YES. YES IT'S SWERVE GODDAM I CAN DIE PEACEFULLY

I am dead. I am so dead.

I LITERALLY CAN'T EXPLAIN THE LEVELS OF JOY THIS WHOLE THING IS GIVING ME RIGHT NOW

YES. YES THIS NERD IS VERY GOOD AT IT PRAISE HIM Had a whole new full life on the other planet - "I got carried away"

PLEASE HE RIGHT AWAY KNEW WHAT TO ASK PFFFHT. Get all transformers to pass exams. I bet 60/40 not pass

WHEEEEEEEEEZEEEE OH MY GOD I LITERALLY. THEY. IT'S. THEY WORTH EACH OTHER WHEEEEZEEE

PLEASE SWERVE. TRUE HUMAN IS HORRIFIED AT THE IDEA OF THEIR BROWSER HISTORY, YOU PASSED THE TEST PFFHTTT .... OF COURSE AHHASGAH UM. HE IS ALIVE! I'M HAPPY HE IS AT LEAST ALIVE! *Nods* Onslaught is a genius indeed AH here comes plot

I continues reaching new levels of dead

Please it's.... how the hell... why... he almost burned to death, he needs a rest or at least to properly look after his skin... not this....

*looks in the distance* Pilots need a fricking tiktok or whatever to show their life to become a new group face

*inhale-exhale* THIS GUY OVER HERE ISN'T A SPOILER BRAT AT ALL. AT ALL. I DON'T KNOW FROM WHICH SIDE SPOILED BRAT WOULD DO IT ALL.

*Looks at Jazz* You need to talk Next phrase is him talking to Prowl and Jazz *Sitting back*

*incoherent sounds*

*EVEN WORSE INCOHERENT SOUNDS*

*goes out of the room*IT'S TOO GORGEOUS TO NOT POINT IT OUT BUT ALSO SO HORRIBLE Blurr... my sweet... ahh I love people under painkillers but I have a feeling the same would happen anyway pfffht. Imagine all of problems and now the thoughts of someone dying because of you ahah... great.... P[OFPGOFPIGOIPSEIES JAZZ YOU ARE TOO FRICKING GOOD AT READING PEOPLE, I'm sure he didn't change the mind about Swerve's reason of absence XDDD

DANG IT. DANG. DANGG. FEHJGEDWJHGBJMCW I'M 'BOUT TO PULL YOUR "GHOST" ASS IN FRONT OF HIS FACE FOREVER BEFORE HE ACCIDENTALLY DIES OR SOMETHING. FOR THE GOD'S SAKE *ROLLS ON THE FLOOR FLORRS WALLS LIKE A ROTATED 980 DEGREE SPIDER* HE SAVES HIM, HE GOT OUT TO SAVE HIM HERE. TAKE IT. TALK HIM DOWN. SHOW WHO IS THE TALKY BOSS HERE WITH THE LIBRARY OF A NERD

HMEWDBNBMCHMNBCHMHMHDSHSSHS *SLAMS ON THE KEYBOARD WITH THE HEAD* NO DON'T SHUT UP, BLABBERS, NEVER SHUT UP HELPA DHJGA Don't you love it when two characters blend it and play a bullshit game of no context to get attention out? You better love it because personally I am dying for one more reason It's so IRONIC even to use NORMAN name *BREAKS THE TABLE* HE IS REAL!!!! YEAH!!! MY NERD KNOW MORE ABOUT HUMANS THAN HUMANS DO. PHARMA, GET OUT OF HERE, BLURR HAS A PERSONAL DOCTOR ....Wellllll I mean TECHNICALLY you already failed at keeping all possible secrets, Swerve.....

I'M SORRY I JUST KEFERON, KISSING YOU IN EVERY POSSIBLE KISSABLE PLACE I NEVER THOUGHT I CAN GO THAT CRAZY OVER THIS SPECIFIC PART GOING ON AND HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SO GOOD AT ALL THIS I AM IN SHAMBLES AND SHAKING I LOVE IT TO DEATH AND WANNA PRINT IT

Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵️

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

---------------

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”