#I'm going to be living in this office next week
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echojulietfoxtrot · 2 days ago
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Okay, everyone's had a few days to be sad. But the world didn't end, so there is stuff to be done. Mid terms are in 2 years.
This post isn't going to tell you anything other people haven't done better or in more detail, and I'm not even American, so what the fuck are you listening to me for, but I think it might be useful to somebody as a place to start, and I think it's useful to keep in mind that none of us are helpless - no matter how much it might benefit somebody else to let you think so.
I'll add to it as and when I can.
NOW
Check your ballot. Tell everyone you know to check on their ballots. Spread the word to everyone you can possibly tell to check their ballots. The Presidential election is absolutely not going to be reversed, but local races and initiatives can be decided by twenty, a dozen, two votes. The window's closing on this by now, so check into this immediately if you haven't already. And if there is any possibility for a recount where it might achieve something, make noise for one.
You would be absolutely amazed how much harm can be spared and how much good can be done at the Parks & Rec level, no matter what's happening up top. Do not waste the chance to make friction for bad guys later on, or lay down some tools for the good guys in advance.
Then, if you have a Dem Senator, call their office and urge them to confirm all Biden's judicial nominees now, right now, ASAP. Here's a rough call script.
Btw mid terms are in two years.
NEXT
Spend the next two months -
Buying a little extra boring ass shelf stable food and water on your grocery runs, and build up as much food security as you can. You're probably not gonna need it, but it's good to have, even only as a hedge against inflation or unreliable weather/disaster relief responses.
Stock up on medication you might need if you can. Organize whatever procedures you might need done if you can, including contraceptive measures. And find a reason to need a Morning After Pill or two in the next few weeks, somebody you care about might be real glad you did.
Consider making any big ticket purchases that will be affected by proposed tariffs (electronics etc), or any... slightly less conventional things you want to buy, now - but otherwise it would be a good time to lay some money aside if you can.
Get in the habit of paying for things in cash, and limiting how much information on your habits are out there. Stash a little cash somewhere, for if you want to buy something less visibly in future, too.
Do your homework about your digital footprint. Accounts, posts, doxxable clues, data, behavioral info, browsers, wifi links, cookies, consumer history, always-on "Smart" speakers and devices, think about all of it. Your phone is telling everyone where you are at all times whether the Location stuff is on or not - get in the habit of leaving it at home, so that suddenly not having it is not, in itself, a sign of anything. Your fitness wearables are mapping your entire lifestyle - it is effectively recording where you work, what time you finish, what routes you take, what stores you go to, where your friends live, where you go for recreation, where your family lives and what your relationship is like with them (where's your fitbit at Thanksgiving, Christmas etc?). Don't use fingerprint or facial recognition for anything, ever, if you can help it - apart from cataloguing your biometrics, it is much easier for a third party, police included, to use these to access your stuff than a password. It probably goes without saying, do not digitally document your menstrual cycle in any way.
Figure out what channels you can use in future to retain access to as much as possible if someone decides you shouldn't have it, or wants to know if you look for it. VPNs are a starting point, but not the end point. Do your homework on this now, before you need to know it.
Look into securing documentation that might be of use in future, this includes property, legal stuff like Power of Attorney, passports etc. (Though that doesn't necessarily mean carrying it at all times to everything, just sayin'.)
What's your ACA status? Are you currently availing of absolutely everything you're currently entitled to? If not, work on it. Government resources are always harder to take away from you once you're getting them than to deny you outright.
If there's any gay shit you like or want preserved, it would be a good time to buy/download/back it up. This includes movies, fics, books. It would also be a good time to seek out and subscribe to independent and non-digital gay media, zines, etc, and get to know your in-person scenes. You might be surprised how much stuff still exists and happens in ways that are invisible to the internet, gay and otherwise.
Don't forget that mid terms are in 2 years.
THEN
The mid terms are in 2 years.
Mid terms are 2 years away. Which means the campaigns for them start in a year, which means the work for them starts now.
All else aside, Democrat flips elsewhere in the government structure at that point would make it way, way harder for them to keep smashing everything, and there is work that you can do towards making that happen. For better and sometimes worse, the American political system is a very big and very awkward machine, and King Dipshit and his cronies cannot wave a magic wand to get their way everywhere all the time as a result. Look into your immediate local political scene, and figure out what you can do for it.
You might be getting sick of everyone talking about "building community". What this usually means in practice is firstly, seeking out local or neighboring orgs and groups that are doing what you want done, and joining them; or else, starting them yourself.
That might sound daunting, but it's not hard to start an interest group, just very annoying early on. You'll have to do a lot more printing than you might expect. You're going to have to deal with some deeply irritating people who are, nonetheless, very good at getting good shit done, and you're going to have to learn that's a You problem to deal with.
I'm involved in a couple of local groups in my country and it is WILD how much even one person can get done purely because nobody else gives enough of a shit about boring small potatoes stuff to notice or oppose it. That can be a blessing and a curse, so make it the first one.
Apart from this stuff being generally good, it will stop you losing your fucking mind. No, you're not going to community garden your way out of this one, sure, but that community garden might stop you letting the bullshit beat you into the ground before you can do something more important down the line. And it might introduce you to the girl who knows somebody with the thing that can do the shit you need around then too; it might teach you a lot of practical and psychological stuff you'll be glad of sometime.
It might even teach you how to get much more important things done in your local political infrastructure, who is on your side, who isn't, how to get the best from either - some of the most valuable shit I've learned about my little universe was picked up in the course of volunteering for a haunted house.
I am as guilty as everyone else as looking at the outlook and saying fuck it, bad guys won, but that is legitimately irrational no matter where you live. They never win, not outside of stories, because real life doesn't end like a story does. There is stuff to be done to make life more bearable than it would be otherwise, more bearable until it's possible to make it even better. There is so much stuff to get doing, instead of just feeling bad.
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gothamite-rambler · 9 hours ago
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Bruce is beekeeping age, but Artemis would still smash
I respect and agree.
Artemis (Amazon): Jason, your dad is at “beekeeping age.” You know what that means?
Jason refused to respond; he already knew where this conversation was headed. But Artemis took his silence as an invitation to elaborate on the slang term.
Artemis: It means he’s an attractive, middle-aged man—usually in his 40s or 50s. You know, the kind of guy who would keep bees and make his own honey.
Jason (monotone): That’s not something he does.
Artemis (undeterred): He doesn’t have to do that exactly. It’s just cute how he’s the cape crusader at night, but at home, he’s such an emo dork—like a businessman and a cool dad.
Jason pretended to examine his soda can, regretting that he had said anything at all. He wondered how the conversation had even started.
Artemis: He’s kind of cute—tough, tall, and handsome. How old is your dad?
Jason brought his hands together, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in his head.
Artemis: He’s definitely at "beekeeping age." Some Amazons even call him a DILF.
Jason (whispering to himself): I wonder if I killed myself and got thrown in the pit, would I forget this?
Artemis (looking longingly): He reads books, he’s always there for you guys. He protects you like he protects Gotham. I never had a dad, but my mom wasn’t even there for me like that.
Jason refused to respond, taking a long drink from his soda can instead.
Artemis (wistfully): The crazy thing is, none of my former partners—besides you, of course—have made my heart flutter like Bruce and guys like him do. I know you two aren’t close, but a strong man who loves you, supports you, and is conventionally attractive…
Jason examined his gun, debating what Artemis would say next while struggling to keep his boiling annoyance at bay.
Artemis (twiddling her fingers, lost in thought): Jason, I think I want to… well, you know.
Jason (angry): No, really? I couldn’t tell!
---------------------------------------------
Later that day, Jason made a surprise visit to Bruce to discuss the earlier conversation. If he was going to live with that moment replaying in his head, the man connected to it would have to hear about it too.
Bruce: She said I was “beekeeping age?”
Jason (staring at his feet): Yes. And before you ask, it’s a term for an ‘attractive’ middle-aged man, usually in his 40s or 50s.
Bruce: How did she know I was in my 40s?
Jason: Oh my God, that's what you focus on?!
Bruce (alarmed): Sorry, sorry! I’m just thrown off by the fact that she said it—she’s your age, and that felt wrong to hear.
Jason: Yeah, she called you a DILF too.
Bruce: What’s a DILF?
Jason covered his eyes, cringing at the word.
Jason: Look it up. Because if I say the full acronym, I might shoot you in your kneecaps!
Bruce shrugged, then pulled out his phone to search for the definition. After reading it, he buried his head in his hands, exhausted by the world.
Bruce: I’m so tired of this. Why can’t people just see me as fairly attractive and move on?
Jason: Thank God we’re on the same page about this.
Bruce: Yep, yep, yep. I already had to get Selina to stop calling me "Daddy."
Jason nearly vomited at the thought of that word connected to his foster dad.
Jason: Yep, this is going to be a full session in therapy next week. Anyway, avoid her forever, or I'm going to lose my mind.
Bruce: I promise, I’m not going to do anything with her. That may have sounded wrong, but I wouldn’t because it's all kinds of messed up. I’m with Selina—she's my partner. Even if I were single—
Jason shot Bruce a glare, clutching a letter opener. Bruce nodded, cutting himself off before he could say anything that would make Jason want to stab him.
Bruce (ashamed): Have I paid you this month? I have not! Let me get my phone; I’ll be right back!
Bruce hurried out of the office, leaving Jason to collect his bearings. He pondered whether he deserved an extra paycheck after just getting paid last week, then shrugged.
Jason: Works for me.
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moonlitbirdie · 17 hours ago
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Hi Birdee,
Your post from the other day about your checkup really moved me - and bilateral salpingectomy is something that has been on my mind, particularly with 🍊 being elected now. Plus from my research it seems like it may reduce/prevent chances of getting certain cancers, which makes it a win-win ( it runs in our family).
I totally get if this is much too personal for you, so please don’t feel like you should respond to this - but I’m curious about how your experience was, re: pain levels and the process itself. Initially I was going to DM you to ask, but then I realized that there probably are a lot of other afab!folks who may be considering it due to, hence me submitted this asn. Would you recommend the procedure?
Xoxo
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Hi hello friend!! god i love that shot of Joel so much. I'm totally not distracted at all.
Forgive me for taking a few days to get back to you, husband had his wisdom teeth removed yesterday and I wanted to be able to give this a good answer in case it was helpful to anyone else. Fingers crossed that is the last surgery either of us have for a LONG TIME. 😭
Anyways!
I figured I'd just go through the whole process for anyone curious.
cw under cut: description of medical procedures/surgery/blood mentions
I met with my gynecologist in September to talk about options. I had a copper IUD for about 10 years and my husband had about three weeks after they overturned Roe v. Wade, but I wanted something more permanent for myself. There was still a minuscule chance that I could get pregnant and there is, unfortunately, always the chance of SA. I live in Louisiana where abortion is illegal with very, very few exceptions, and I don't really want my life being decided by some emergency room doctor in the Bible Belt, so sterilization it is!
It was surprisingly easy to get it scheduled, but my gynecologist was very willing and cooperative with the whole request. I got it all set up for the day after my birthday, which husband and I laughed about because he got his vasectomy on his birthday. Weird way to celebrate, yk?
At my pre-op appointment I signed a bunch of paperwork and she did a quick pelvic exam--I don't think this is generally part of it, but my GP's office had not sent over the results from my last pap, so she wanted to make sure everything was normal for her own peace of mind. Nothing like getting a speculum shoved inside of you with your husband sitting next to you.
Anyways, she also explained the difference between a tubal ligation and a bilateral salpingectomy. Essentially, a tubal ligation blocks or cuts your fallopian tubes, while a bilateral salpingectomy removes them completely. The tubal ligation is sometimes reversible, while the bilateral salpingectomy is not. She also mentioned, like you said, removing the fallopian tubes dramatically decreases the risk of ovarian cancer because most ovarian cancer originates in the fallopian tubes.
The only surgery I'd ever had before was, incidentally, wisdom teeth removal, and that was almost 20 years ago so I was pretty nervous the day of the procedure. Her office is in a hospital so it was done in their OR. I got there at 8 am, already starving and grumpy because I couldn't take my medication or eat or drink anything after midnight and I ate dinner the night before at 6 pm so. Grr.
They took me back at about 8:30 to start surgery prep, made me pee in a cup, drew some blood, all that stuff. My veins actually ended up rebelling when they went to put in an IV, and they had to call in their "vein expert," a very lovely tattoo-covered man named David who took one look at my arm and said "Ah, this'll be easy. She's got great veins." He poked me once and found the vein immediately, much to the (light-hearted) irritation of the other nurses. Apparently, I was just very dehydrated and it was causing problems.
I don't remember much of anything after this because they immediately gave me drugs that made me loopy and then put me under general anesthesia, but it was a laparoscopic procedure. She made three incisions--one on each side of my abdomen and one through my bellybutton, so I have three little scars. Took about an hour, and I woke up in the recovery room.
I was home before noon.
It was a little rough for a few days after, but I think I got off pretty easy. I did have some pain in my abdomen and couldn't walk around much without getting worn out. It felt like I'd done some really intense crunches and I couldn't sleep on my tummy for about a week. I also had a few absolutely wild mood swings. I didn't have any bleeding after the first day.
I still have my ovaries and my uterus, I still get a period, all that's still like it was before.
Overall I think it was as good an experience as it could be. My only complication was that my IUD, which she was removing at the same time, broke apart and now there's just an IUD arm in me, but that is mostly unrelated to this. Apparently this is common when the IUDs have been inside for a long time and she can do a procedure to take it out, too.
WHEW this is long. All of this is to say is if you're wanting a permanent form of birth control and you can afford it (mine was mostly covered by insurance), I would recommend it. Especially with the current state of things. Protecting ourselves is so important.
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insomniac4000 · 1 day ago
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7 with George or Arthur Hill please
Try to eat- George Clarke
It took you a little while to muster up the courage to take the pregnancy test in the first place. You were at least a week late when you opened the package, hands shaking slightly. You weren't so sure why you were so nervous you and George had been in a stable relationship for just over two years and the pair of you had started to have conversations about your future.
"Oh sweet Jesus," was your response when you saw the word pregnant pop up almost straight away. When you showed George the little white stick his response was a wide smile and the words "wow this is amazing."
You were both nervous, your lives were about to change but it hit you first and hit you hard.
The morning sickness had hit you like a truck, you went from wondering when you would feel pregnant to visiting the toilet at least three times in the morning.
George was there every step of the way, he held you hair back, he rubbed your back, gave you water, helped you back in bed. His helpfulness then turned into a lot of concern as he saw you get sicker and sicker, the fatigue now also coming over you in waves.
"How you feeling?" George asked, a supportive hand on your arm after he had returned home from filming.
"Awful." You replied, your voice was hoarse from being sick so much. You looked clammy, a little grey, you knew you looked an absolute state but George still looked at you adoringly, if not very worried.
"Have you had anything to eat today?" George asked and you shook your head a little, even that small movement made the nausea worse.
"Try eat something," George suggested as he started to run his hands through your hair.
"Every time I do it doesn't stay long," you protested. George frowned.
"I'm no expert but this can't be normal, maybe we should go to see a doctor?" He suggested. You weren't sure what to do for the best, you knew this was a part of pregnancy but on the other hand it did seem excessive and you felt terrible, of course you were also really worried if you weren't eating properly would the baby grow? It all became too much and the second a few tears rolled down your face George wasted no time in climbing next to you and within seconds you were enveloped in his strong arms, your head leaning on his chest.
"If I could take it all away from you and swap I would," he soothed, you whispered a small thank you.
"Plus think about how big my arse would get," he joked and you giggled, he always knew how to make you feel better.
The following day he sat with you in the doctor's office holding your hand, you were relieved to be told it was just a bad case of morning sickness and were reassured the baby would be fine plus were given some anti sickness tablets. With a plan of of course George by your side, you would get through it.
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lunapwrites · 2 years ago
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serkonans · 8 months ago
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the way we handle medical leave in the states even for people with good benefits is cruel
#the number of hoops i have to jump through. the way that my requirements for one surgery are apparently different from another surgery#even though there's nothing in the paperwork to indicate any need for that and the surgeries don't differ all that much#the way that they lost my initial letter and now i'm up against my deadline next week and they haven't even told me what day next week#so i'm worried that it's literally tomorrow#the way i am not receiving ANY pay for an entire month because of all the delays so i'm having to live off my savings#the way that every single person i've talked to has said something different about what is and isn't required#the way that for a lot of this i had to be navigating it while high on painkillers immediately post-surgery#the way that the group my employer contracts through has two different emails and names and flips between them constantly#the way that my healthcare provider does it differently than every other healthcare provider so i need special forms from them#instead of the leave group but then the leave group doesn't seem to accept the forms that they send#the way that the doctors office has seemed incredibly confused by my requests#the way that the ROI office told me they'd send over a completed form and never did#the way i literally don't even know who to call next to try and sort this out or if it's possible TO sort out#like i guess i'll call the leave group tomorrow and cry and beg for an extension. i guess i'll grovel bc it's the difference#of getting a few thousand dollars or not and i can't just be like oh well guess i won't get my short term disability pay#especially bc none of the hospitals have billed me yet and i'm getting scared bc i don't know what my ER bill is going to look like#bc they did xrays and a CT scan and they gave me a splint and a sling and a lot of drugs#so i do need the money. just sitting here like. idek what to do lmfao.#not tagging this bc i'm on desktop and i can't do the accent mark easily and idk where my phone is rn sorry
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shiningstages · 2 years ago
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Me lookin' at my lil content: d'aaaaaaaw it's so cute~
I wanted to do stuff before work, but I like blanked out since I'm sleepy (went to bed around 1? 2?? then woke up at 7:11; not terrible but not like Great) then did my required stretchies / looked up stuff for things~ Tomorrow I have my last PT session and follow-up, and then I plan on cleaning my room / generally just chilling out since it has been Forever, but now...I will try and schedule in time for OC thoughts today and tomorrow (still have to decide if Atlas would be primal or astral...and maybe compare some story stuff to make sure it's not stepping on any Canon toes...but maybe we also don't care about that second bit ghffjghfgvcccgkhf).
#;big bubble blowing baby! ( ooc )#( i think...i'm gonna try and schedule my hair cut too. either saturday or next thursday#i love my long flowy hair but i've getting that feeling of just...can't take it anymore ghfjcghfcgkhgcjgv#BUT it's also supposed to get colder so i may wimp out because this hair Protects Me#i also have to talk with my workman's comp doc about specific restriction papers my store director gave me tomorrow (fear)#i don't really like feeling less useful at work; but i also have just accepted that i need to take care of myself#i'm hoping nothing Too Big happens with that because i still wanna bank a lot of money before going back to school#but also a tiny bit less hours a week (since i work around 37-39 rn) would be nice...maybe even an extra day off...more me time#in other news i've also had many vtuber thoughts GFDHGFHGFHJFGHF#the only important one is...accepting that i should just kind of Do It. instead of actively thinking of where i wanna be; if that makes#any sense#and wars gave me Big Incentive to clean my room in like a non-vtuber way; but also just like...the motivation!!! the hype!!!#i have a lot of steps in my mind to do my creative stuff; but my room Must be clean#not that all my stuff isn't on my dad's very nice desk but...i don't want any potential pc i buy to be there#it would be so much better environment-wise (aka not being in my kitchen where my dad always is and near the living room#where my bro always streams) plus it's a two-way street of i don't want to disturb them either#i thought about cleaning my mom's office but she literally told me no because she wants to clean it all herself#which her being like “i have to be the one to go through everything when cleaning” is just...i see where i get my attitude#BUT ANYWAYS#i need to get ready for work gfhgjfjgfhgkjgfcghfg being the closer so much is so tiring;;#hopefully tonight is good and i don't have to have Drama and anyone who freaks out )
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because-its-eurovision · 2 years ago
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#no need to read or react just needed to rant about my brain a bit#the next two weeks are supposed to be super exciting with BC giving us a new look and song and music video#it's umk week and my favorite for once has historically great odds of winning and a good chance to do well at eurovision as well#I'm going to see umk live with my dear sister and stay at a hotel so it's like a mini-getout and then I'm going to stockholm and oslo gigs#this is supposed to be best times of the year so far but my brain decided we can't have any of that :)#last year at this same time I got hit hard with depression and the anxiety I've always had got even worse#it got to the point that nothing made me happy or feel anything at all and I just cried all day for weeks#everything about UMK night was blurry and sad because I wasn't talking to my bestie who I've watched eurovision with for 10 years#I just started crying during the Dark Side/ Bad Idea opening and the results felt like nothing#I'll always assiociate Bad Idea with my depression because it was playing on the radio in the nurse's office when I got my meds#anyway I can feel that same darkness crawling back to my brain right now and I'm very scared#my brain decides I don't deserve to be happy and screams about how unloveable and ridiculous and embarrassing and ugly I am#it isn't helping that Joel keeps reposting the most model-looking tiktokers because I always feel a hot gush of shame run through me#and everytime I see a pic of any of their blonde skinny young gfs I just wanna kms#now it's gotten to a point that the voice in my head yells at me that I don't deserve Bc or their music and I should cancel my gig trip#because they wouldn't wanna see a disgusting cow myself being so near the stage not to mention ask for a pic or autograph#and I should just hide in my apartment forever#and everyone who has ever been nice to me is either doing that out of pity or making fun of me behind my back#I can't take this anymore#delete later
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girlscience · 6 months ago
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*deep breath* SHRIEKING *vomits and passes out*
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hedgehog-moss · 2 months ago
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Last time I went to the village to buy bread I saw a woman in the street who was dressed like a 19th-century peasant, complete with a thick old-timey accent with dialect words no one uses anymore—she was telling a little group of people to follow her so of course I had to drop everything and follow her too.
And it turned out she was a theatre actress who has read a lot of local archives in libraries and town halls, and offered her services to organise guided tours of various villages to tell people about local history in a fun way, by playing characters who lived here in the Middle Ages, the 19th century, or WWII. It's such a cool idea! I talked to her for a bit after the visit and she said she wasn't sure it'd work / attract enough people, but she had groups of tourists + local families show up for the visit every week, in every village where she did this, so she think she'll be hired again next summer.
When I joined their group she was talking about WWII, and how my & other nearby villages were known by the Nazis and Vichy as a hotbed of terrorists, with some Gestapo officers killed in bomb attacks. (In retaliation the Nazis eventually rounded up 100+ locals and deported them to camps, as well as shooting a few.) I was mostly familiar with WWII anecdotes from the North-East, where my grandparents lived during the war, and I found it funny how different they sounded—my grandfather made Resistance activities sound well-planned and careful (espionage, sabotage, underground presses, infiltrating railway services etc) while oral histories around here make them sound a lot more spontaneous and—handcrafted? like "Emile brought what we needed for the bomb in his wheelbarrow hidden under a layer of straw and we exploded 2 Nazis."
We then went to visit the former girls' school, and I learnt a lot about my country's history of education for girls! Also it was really sweet because there was an old lady in our group who had attended this school as a child and had lots of school memories to share. Most of them were very wholesome, until eventually our tour guide went "Surely you also have some School Mischief to tell us about" and the old woman at first was like no no no no, I was a good girl. And then she conceded that when she had to sort lentils for the nuns' dinner and she resented one of them for berating her in class, she'd do a shit job on purpose and leave some little stones in the lentils.
Then our last step was the fairground where the town fair was (and is still) held, and our tour guide told us little 19th-century anecdotes (in-character, more like acting them out) that she'd found in old postcards and letters in the archives—how the town fair was where you'd go for your dentist appointment (i.e. to have your bad teeth pulled with pliers with no pain medicine) and to get any object repaired, like damaged pans or clogs; how there were dancing bears and performing monkeys; how one year the merchant who sold linen for women's trousseaus had her linen display trampled "by 300 cows" (might have been an exaggeration) and she hit the cow herder and it started a massive brawl.
My favourite anecdote was how back in the 1800s the local innkeeper was frustrated by the fact that the nearest village is just 10km away, and people who came to the fair often decided to go spend the night there so their journey back the next day would be less long, and so he started to tell them about the beast that lives under the bridge between the two villages. Travellers say horses go mad when they see it and just jump into the water. Some say the beast has dug up corpses from the cemetery because it likes human flesh, though of course it prefers it fresh. I'm now convinced half of local legends were single-handedly created by business savvy innkeepers determined to get more customers than the rival inn 10km away.
I'm sad I only learnt about these visits at the end of summer when they're coming to an end, but I'll definitely follow this woman around again if she returns with more stories next year!
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clockwayswrites · 3 months ago
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One birdritch, two stones.
part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost
“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.
Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”
“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”
“No?”
“No.”
Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”
“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”
“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”
Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.
“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”
“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”
“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.
Tim tilted his head.
“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”
Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.
“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”
“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.
-
The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.
“Hello.”
The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.
Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.
They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.
“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.
They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”
“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.
“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.
Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”
“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”
“Explain?”
“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.
Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.
Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.
“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.
“You will come?”
Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”
“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”
“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.
Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.
Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.
“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”
Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.
“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”
“Bruce.”
“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.
Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.
“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.
“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.
Cass signed Danny’s name sign.
“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.
“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”
Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”
“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”
“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.
Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”
“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.
“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.
Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?
-
“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.
“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.
Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.
But that hardly answered any of what was going on.
“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”
Cass nodded and crossed her heart.
Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.
---
AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)
Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.
1K notes · View notes
ja3yun · 4 months ago
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touch me and see | l.hs
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boyfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, oral (f.rec), cum eating, overstimulation, they are tooth rottingly in love, but heeseung is commanding, not proof read, anything else lmk!
w.c: 4.6k
REQ: i can't, for the love of God, stop thinking about how heeseung will lose his damn mind if his girlfriend were to take his hand and slip it inside her panties while telling him how needy she is for him. Like. Please you have to write something about this. 🤲
a/n: hi! this was probably not what you were wanting and i can only apologise. after reading and writing about dom men for the better part of a week i needed some fluff and romance! hope you like it <3 also, i'm working through requests so please be patient with me, i am trying my best 🙏🏻
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Walking through the door, Heeseung places his shoes haphazardly at the entrance of your shared apartment, the clambering of them echoing in the tiny foyer. Typically, you are home by now, and the familiarity of this daily routine never fails to warm his heart. You have been dating for a few years, and nothing brings him more joy than coming home to you, even though he does it every day. The anticipation of seeing you, feeling your presence, and sharing the quiet moments together fills him with a sense of comfort and belonging that he cherishes deeply.
Heeseung's eyes scan the cosy living room, landing on you nestled on the couch, a book in hand. A soft smile spreads across his face, his heart swelling with love and contentment. He quietly walks over to you, his footsteps almost silent on the carpet, not wanting to disrupt your peaceful moment but eager to be close to you. As he reaches you, he gently wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you into a warm, tender embrace.
You feel the familiar weight and warmth of his arms around you, and your heart skips a beat. The scent of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of his day, envelops you, grounding you in the moment. Heeseung leans down, his lips brushing against the nape of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. Each kiss sends a shiver down your spine, a sweet reminder of the love and passion that has grown and never dimmed between you over the years.
"Hi, baby. I missed you," he murmurs against your neck, his voice low and filled with emotion. His arms tighten around you slightly, as if he's afraid to let go. The sincerity in his words touches you deeply, and you can feel the depth of his affection and the genuine happiness he feels being with you.
Turning slightly in his embrace, you tilt your head to look up at him, meeting his warm, adoring gaze. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. "I missed you too," you whisper, your voice carrying the same depth of emotion. It’s a bit over the top for most people, to be so in love with one another that you miss each other even only for approximately 12 hours, but it suits you both just fine.
Heeseung leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple yet profound gesture. The kiss is soft, slow, and filled with the unspoken promise of many more years of shared moments and unending love. As you pull away, he places one final kiss on the top of your head before circling the couch and sitting next to you. 
You wedge your bookmark between the pages and place the book on your lap, giving your full attention to your boyfriend. “How was your day?”
Sighing, he rubs his forehead hard enough to leave a faint red mark. “Stressful, I had to basically run after everyone’s mistakes and then somehow I got the blame.” 
Being an office worker is either the easiest job in the world or the hardest. Most days, it’s fucking dreadful since the company decided to hire people who either know nothing at all and mess up the accounts, or people who think they know it all and still mess up the accounts. When he started, he loved his job, it was a nice and simple 9-5 with little stress, even so much so that he could often call you at random points in the day just to see how you were doing. 
But now companies have merged, new staff are useless, his boss is on holiday for 2 months to go back home to Australia, life is just miserable in the office. 
Seeing his frustration, you scoot a bit closer, taking his hand in yours and kissing the back of it, the way you always do in situations like this. He doesn’t need you to come up with solutions or tell him lies like everything will be okay. The subtle gesture of your lips on his skin and your thumb running across his knuckles is enough to ease the discomfort in his bones.
“You should take a vacation once Jaeyun is back, we can go and do something fun,” you suggest, knowing that without Heeseung and his boss, the company would go up in flames. 
Pouting softly, he shakes his head, “I only have 2 days of annual leave left and I’m using it for your birthday.”
“But you’ve been working all these extra hours, days even. Surely you can get some back and we can go on a city trip somewhere?” you insist, your eyes filled with a hopeful sparkle.
Leaning in, Heeseung kisses your lips tenderly, sharing his gratefulness and love for your concern for him. Never in his life did he imagine someone would care this much about him, especially because he knows you will drop all your studying to make sure you can go on this hypothetical trip. The kiss is gentle yet deep, conveying all the emotions he struggles to put into words. When he pulls back, his eyes linger on your face, taking in the worry and affection that mirrors his own feelings.
Heeseung squeezes your hand and sits back to his original position on the couch. “Nah, that’s including me taking time back. You know how stingy the company is with time off.” He smiles, trying to reassure you, though he feels a pang of guilt for the tiny white lie. The real reason he’s been working every extra shift and covering for others is something he can’t share just yet - it would spoil the surprise he’s been meticulously planning for over a year.
You concede, knowing how hard-working Heeseung is and that pushing the matter might end up in one of you sleeping on the couch you’re currently sitting on. If there is one thing he could argue to the death about, it’s about how he can handle work and everything in between quite fine on his own.
“Alright, but promise me you’ll take it easy. I don’t want you to be exhausted when you come home or on the days off you have.”
“I promise,” Heeseung replies, pulling you closer. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing and familiar. “For you.”
Rolling your eyes, you whack his hand away playfully before joining it with yours once again. “No, for you, not for me. You need to look after yourself because you want to.” He has a bad habit of neglecting himself and only listening to you and never his body; it’s a curse to the admirable hard-working part of him.
Heeseung chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at you fondly. “Okay, okay. I’ll take care of myself because I want to,” he says, though he knows that your happiness will always be his first priority. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “So, how was your day?”
You settle against the couch, leaning your head on your free hand as you place your arm on the back cushion, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “It was good. I studied most of the morning, trying to get ahead on my assignments. Then, I just spent some time reading. It was nice to relax a bit.”
Heeseung smiles, his heart warming at the thought of you finding some time for yourself amidst your busy schedule. “What are you reading?” he asks, spotting the book on your lap and tilting his head in curiosity.
Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you realise the cover of the book is clearly visible. It's a smutty romance novel, the kind with a particularly steamy cover illustration that leaves little to the imagination; your typical brute man in black and white, the kind you see middle-aged mums reading poolside on their Tenerife holiday. Quickly, you try to hide it, but it’s too late. Heeseung’s gaze follows your movements, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Oh, this looks…interesting,” he teases, reaching out to gently take the book from your hands. “A little light reading, huh?”
Your cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and you cover your face with your hands, groaning. “It’s not what you think,” you mumble from behind your hands, though you both know it’s exactly what he thinks. You curse horny authors for not picking more subtle covers.
Heeseung laughs warmly and shakes his head, dismissing your embarrassment, “Everyone has a hobby,” he reassures you. The thing about your boyfriend is that he will never make you feel shame for anything you do, even if it is the most cringy, despicable act like that one time you tried to whistle note like Ariana Grande at karaoke - he will only encourage you. It’s one of the many, many reasons you fell in love with him. 
Flicking through some of the pages, his eyes land on probably the most graphic and detailed sex scene he has ever read, granted, he might have only ever read one in his life and Fifty Shades of Grey for half an hour while waiting for a doctor's appointment might not be very adventurous on his part. 
He looks at you and pouts, waving the book about in the air. “Is this what I have to compete with? Whips and feathers?” He feigns being disappointed, hiding the lingering smirk that is currently fighting its way onto his face.
You shake your head ferociously, eyes wide and mouth open. “No, no, no. I like you just the way you are, trust me,” you plead with him. He loves it when you play along with him in his upset skit, usually because you end up complimenting him way more than normal, which is like music to his ears.
Sucking in a breath, he juts his bottom lip as he looks at the book once again, his hand easily gripping its edges. The book looks so small when he holds it, like it’s part of the mini-brand series. His long fingers, slightly calloused from work, wrap around the cover with a casual strength that makes your pulse quicken.
Heeseung notices the way your eyes fixate on his hands, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You sure? I mean, these guys in the book seem pretty...intense,” he teases, his tone light but his eyes darkening with a flicker of lust.
Your breath catches as you watch his fingers trace the spine of the book absentmindedly. The sight of his hands - so strong, so capable - starts to stir a familiar heat within you. You bite your lip, trying to focus on his words, but your mind keeps wandering to thoughts of those hands on you, exploring, caressing.
“Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice a little shaky, “you don’t need any of that stuff. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Your words are sincere, but you can’t help the flush that creeps up your neck as your thoughts continue to race.
Heeseung catches the change in your tone, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. He sets the book aside, his full attention now on you. “Oh?” he says, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer, his hand coming up to gently cup your chin. “Perfect, huh?”
Taking hold of his hand, you nod quickly, suddenly dipping his hand into the waistband of your lounge shorts and past your underwear, to let him feel just exactly what he does to you, how you’re only needy for him and no one else. Sometimes, you even imagine that it’s him in the books, replacing the CEO and Cowboy faces with your boyfriend’s.
Heeseung’s eyes darken, his breath catching as he feels the evidence of your desire for him. His gaze locks onto yours, a predatory smirk forming on his lips. “Is this how you feel when you think about me? This isn’t because of that guy in the book?” he murmurs, his voice husky and thick with desire. His fingers move deliberately, exploring your softness with a slow, teasing touch.
"It's all you," you whisper, breath leaving your lungs thanks to his fingers, "I get wet thinking about you, especially when you aren't here."
His smirk deepens, and his fingers start to move with more purpose, sliding through your slick folds and finding your sensitive bud with expert precision. “Really?” he murmurs, his voice a dangerous mix of lust and amusement. “Baby, I must have kept you waiting a really long time today then, hmm?” His tone is mocking, clearly enjoying how desperate you’ve become.
The heat from his fingers and his teasing words send shivers down your spine, and you’re so consumed by lust that you haven’t even realised that he’s stopped moving his fingers. Instead, your hips are thrusting desperately against his hand, seeking release as you grind against his touch.
Heeseung’s eyes gleam with desire as he watches you. The sight of you, so lost in need and writhing for him, drives him wild. He loves seeing you like this, your body reacting instinctively to his touch, your pleasure so palpable that it’s almost overwhelming.
“You really are a mess,” he growls, his voice a blend of admiration and raw dominance. “Look at you, so needy and desperate. Does it feel that good, baby?” His words are both teasing and tender, a testament to how well he knows you and what makes you tick. Heeseung’s ability to seamlessly blend tenderness with dominance is one of the many things that make him irresistible to you.
In these moments, he becomes something more than just your boyfriend; he’s a reflection of the deep, unwavering love and respect he has for you. The way he takes charge, guiding you with a gentle but commanding hand, shows just how deeply he cares. He’s not just fulfilling your desires; he’s elevating them, giving you a glimpse of the infinite affection and lust he holds for you.
Heeseung is the epitome of devotion, the kind of man who can turn a simple touch into an expression of endless love. His respect for you is limitless, but when you become this vulnerable and needy, he flips a switch fueled by desire. It’s a delicate balance he maintains effortlessly; he can love you softly and tenderly or take you with a fierce intensity, always attuned to what you need and want.
You moan in response, your words tangled in the throes of overwhelming pleasure. All you can do is wriggle and gasp, your movements growing more frantic as you chase the release that feels just out of reach. “Heeseung...please,” you manage to whimper, your voice breaking with the raw intensity of your need.
Heeseung’s fingers don’t relent. Instead, they delve deeper into your panties, his middle finger now gently tapping at your entrance with teasing precision. His touch is maddeningly light, barely brushing against your sensitive opening, creating a maddening contrast to the desperate pleasure you’re craving. The sensation sends shivers through your body, making your hips buck instinctively towards his hand.
Heeseung’s eyes stare into your desperate ones. “Please what, baby?” he murmurs, his voice thick with both affection and a seductive edge. “Tell me exactly what you need. I want to hear it from you.”
The demand in his voice just adds to your frustration. You can feel the heat accumulating between your legs, and your body's response is becoming increasingly urgent. "I need you…" you declare, the words tumbling out between gasps. "I need you to make me cum."
“Is that what your little book boys do?” he teases, prodding at your sobbing entrance as you whine out, almost crying out in need.
“Shut up, I told you, you’re the only one I need.” you screw your eyes shut, agonisingly frustrated by his underlying jealousy, no matter if he is being serious or not. You need him to touch you and you want it now. 
Heeseung’s finger finally slips inside you, and you gasp as he fills you with a slow, deliberate push. The sensation is both intense and exhilarating, the warmth of his finger adding a layer of pleasure you’ve been yearning for. He starts to move with a slow, steady rhythm, his touch both tender and commanding as he finds your most sensitive spots.
“Like this?” he asks, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as he curls his finger, seeking out the spot that makes you mewl. He continues to caress your clit with his thumb, adding to the overwhelming pleasure.
You can only moan in response, your head dropping on his shoulder as your body responds eagerly to his touch. Each movement, each stroke sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you closer to the edge.
Heeseung’s movements are torturously slow as he adds another digit, each thrust of his fingers inside you measured and deliberate. He curves them expertly, finding that sweet spot deep within you and pressing against it, making your whole body shudder with pleasure. His thumb never ceases its flicking motion on your clit, sending jolts of electricity coursing through you.
Gripping his arm for support, your chest heaves as he presses his fingers roughly to a very sensitive area inside your cunt, the spongy surface melding itself around your boyfriend’s fingers as he holds down on it. If your body were a map, Heeseung had studied and explored every part of it, memorising your X spots with ease. It’s the reason you’re already starting to see those stars behind your eyes.
Heeseung’s breath is hot against your neck, and you can feel his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you’re like this.” His voice is a tantalising blend of tenderness and authority, sending shivers down your spine.
He pulls your head to look at him, and you meet his gaze through flickering eyes, fighting the urge to succumb to your pleasure. "Look at me," he commands softly, his voice a low growl that makes your toes curl and shoulders straighten despite the difficulty of the request. His fingers start to move faster, pumping in and out of you with an unrelenting rhythm, your body arching towards him.
Your hands scramble for something to hold onto, one hand finding purchase on the couch cushion while the other grips at his shirt. Your knuckles turn white as you cling, trying to anchor yourself against the overwhelming sensations. Heeseung’s fingers work you mercilessly, the slick sound of your wetness mingling with your desperate moans and his heavy breathing.
Although you’re slipping into a cum-atose, your eyes never leave his, still abiding by his previous request. His face is smug as he strains, putting immense effort into finger fucking you, his arm working overtime as he rapidly rams his fingers in and out of you the way you like it. 
If there is one thing Heeseung is going to do, it’s please his girl. And by the look on your face and the jittering of your hips, he would say you’re sufficiently pleased.
Yet, he notices how you’re holding your breath and clenching your jaw. “Baby? What are you holding back for?” he asks, his voice softening with concern even as his fingers maintain their relentless pace.
“I... I can’t...” you manage to gasp out, the intensity of the pleasure making it hard to form words. Your body is trembling, teetering on the brink of release, but something is holding you back. Maybe it’s the idea of not having his fingers once you cum, knowing that they can’t live in you forever - sadly.
Heeseung's eyes darken with determination. “Let go,” he commands, his voice a deep growl. “I want to feel you cum all over my fingers.”
His words ignite a wildfire of desire within you, the coil inside you winding tighter with each passing second. Heeseung's thumb presses down harder on your clit, moving in swift, precise circles that send electric waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours with tenderness despite the relentless scissoring of his fingers. “Let it happen. Don’t hold back.”
With a strangled cry, you surrender, the tension in your body unravelling all at once. Your orgasm crashes over you with the force of a tsunami, your entire being convulsing as waves of ecstasy radiate from your core. Your grip on his shirt tightens, nails accidentally digging into his skin as you scream his name, your walls clenching around his fingers. “Heeseung, fuck!”
Heeseung watches you with a blend of satisfaction and awe, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm to prolong your orgasm. The pleasure borders on overwhelming, your hips bucking uncontrollably as you ride the intense ripple of euphoria.
"That's it, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the intensity of his movements. He peppers kisses all over your face and neck, constantly reminding you of reality as your brain gets lost in your high. When Heeseung makes you cum, it’s like you go into your own version of subspace, not quite out of it to the point of unconsciousness but just out of it enough to forget your surroundings.
When he’s fucking you, it’s a lot worse.
As your body starts to relax, the tremors subsiding, Heeseung gently withdraws his fingers, making sure not to cause any discomfort. He brings his glistening fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum, his eyes never leaving your shaking form. The taste of you is his absolute favourite thing and this sample isn’t enough for him, not when you have a whole pool of it between your legs.
"You did so well for me," he whispers, his voice filled with warmth and pride. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering as if to imprint his affection into your skin.
Gently, Heeseung manoeuvres you, his strong arms effortlessly guiding you to lie back on the couch. His movements are careful, almost reverent, as he shifts your weight, ensuring you’re comfortable. You feel the cool leather against your back, a stark contrast to the heat still radiating from your body.
Heeseung’s hands move to your shorts. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says softly, his voice a soothing murmur. His eyes are filled with a loving tenderness as he slowly slides your shorts down your legs, the fabric gliding over your skin.
He places your shorts aside, his gaze returning to your exposed form with a mixture of adoration and desire. Heeseung leans in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh in a series of feather-light kisses that send shivers down your spine. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, his breath warm and tantalising.
Heeseung's breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening with an intense mix of lust and adoration as he takes in the sight before him. "You’re fucking gorgeous, baby," he murmurs, his voice a low, reverent whisper for only you to hear. He trails the tips of his fingers over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns as he slowly lowers himself to the other side of the couch, his breath caressing your skin with each exhale.
He starts at your ankles, placing tender, lingering kisses along your calves, his lips soft and worshipful. His hands follow the path of his mouth, massaging and caressing, as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory. As he moves higher, his kisses become more deliberate, his mouth seeking out the sensitive spots that make you shiver and sigh.
Heeseung’s lips finally find the juncture of your thighs, his breath hot and heavy against your most intimate area. He pauses, looking up at you with a gaze so filled with adoration that it makes your heart flutter. "You’re so perfect," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He places a gentle kiss just above your core, eliciting a gasp from your lips.
Heeseung's tongue darts out, teasing your folds with feather-light strokes, his touch tender and unhurried. "I love the way you taste," he continues, his eyes locked onto your face, filled with adoration. "I could do this forever."
“You do, somedays,” you manage to meek out, chest gasping out a laugh even though you’re head is still spinning.
His tongue laves over your entrance, collecting your essence with a deliberate, sensual grace as he cleans you up. Each movement is slow and careful, designed to draw out your pleasure and keep you on the edge of sensitivity. Heeseung hums in satisfaction, the vibrations sending delicious tremors through your core. "So sweet," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin. "I can’t get enough of you."
Heeseung’s tongue delves deeper, exploring you with a gentle yet thorough intensity. His strokes are varied, alternating between languid licks and playful flicks, each one causing your breath to hitch and your body to arch involuntarily. 
Your boyfriend loves to eat pussy, more specifically your pussy. It’s like a drug to him, a fountain of pure delicious nectar that he needs to be devouring. It calms him down and riles him up all at once. If he’s having a bad day, sometimes he won’t even speak, just carry you to your bedroom and eat you out for hours. It doesn’t even have to be rushed or end with you crying out for him to stop, there are times he’ll simply lick to taste you while asking you about your day.
Men say they love giving head, but no one quite likes it as much as Heeseung does.
That’s why he will say he’s ‘cleaning you up’ when in actual fact, he’s just drinking you dry so he can cause another billow of your juices to flow straight onto his tongue.
Heeseung’s lips close around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue swirls in a rhythm that has your toes curling and your hands gripping the couch. The sensations are overwhelming, and your body is hypersensitive from your previous climax.
“Heeseung, it’s too much,” you whine out as your thighs threaten to crush his head with force as they suffocate his ears.
He can feel the tension building within you again, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he continues his loving assault. The pressure from your leg pillows mixed with the taste of fresh fluids beginning to flow into his mouth has his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 
Feeling for your hands, he interlocks yours with his as he begins to slurp you up with more vigour, the lewd noises roaming around your apartment like a song on the radio, the familiar tune bouncing off the walls as they increase with volume.
“Fuck, I’m going to cum again, baby,” you warn him, the information sending a thrill of excitement through his spine.
With a final, skilful circle of his tongue, you’re sent spiralling into another climax, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Heeseung doesn’t stop, his mouth tenderly working you through the aftershocks, his tongue cleaning up every drop of your release with reverent devotion.
As your tremors finally subside, Heeseung pulls back, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Perfect," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. He leans over you, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes of you, sealing the moment with a promise of love and devotion. "You’re everything to me," he whispers against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "Absolutely everything."
He wraps your legs in a nearby blanket, tucking you in with care as your spent body finds comfort on the couch. Heeseung’s hands linger on your skin, his touch a comforting presence. “How do you feel?” he asks, his voice a soft caress, filled with genuine concern and love.
“Perfect,” you reply, your voice a contented sigh. You reach out, cupping his face in your hand, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “You make me feel perfect.”
Heeseung leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savouring the moment. He then presses a kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. “And all your kinky books with men who could never compare to me.”
Tuting, you push his face away playfully, smiling so wide that it splits your face in half. “Shut up, oh my god,” you reply, your giggles high-pitched despite your exhaustion. “I love you, too.”
_____
perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve
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roanofarcc · 4 months ago
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A MISJUDGMENT
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pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader
summary. when kate drags you back to the home for a one-week stint to help out one of her old friends, you meet tyler owens. the uncouth cowboy and his reckless actions when dealing with something as dangerous as tornados almost instantly prick your nerves until you realize maybe there's more to the cowboy than meets the eye.
warnings. description of tornados, a curse word or two, slightly inaccurate meteorological info, reader is from the midwest.
word count. 2k || masterlist
a.n. did not expect my other fic to get so much love!! sending kisses to everyone who sent me such nice words <3 and I am having a ball with all of the wonderful requests I'm getting!!
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The difference between the Oklahoma and New York was more jarring than you remembered. The wide-open skies and fields that stretched for miles were a distantly familiar sight as you stepped out of the truck. You had grown up in the Midwest, smack dab in the middle of tornado alley, which meant your youth was spent listening to your cautious mother warn you every tornado season of the dangers the storms posed so you’d always be prepared when worst came to worst. You’d hunkered down more time than you could count in your storm cellar, listening to doors rattling and the radio speak. Your father was less cautious; he enjoyed watching the storms roll in on the front porch as he listened to the distant hum of sirens. 
You’d never been a fan of storms, not like your father. They made you nervous; the unpredictably and devastating destruction wasn’t something you found fascinating enough to chase.
Moving to New York was a culture shock but you were lucky enough to score to a job working in tandem with someone who also grew up in tornado alley. You and Kate quickly became friends, bonding over your upbringing and knowledge of the weather. She had opened up to you about her storm-chasing days, all ending with the tragedy that took the lives of three people she loved. Her story only cemented your opinion of storm chasing; it was too risky. But she had suckered you in with your love for the science behind weather, and the next thing you know you were in Oklahoma with Kate and a friend of hers on a one-week mission.
You stuck back with the team in charge of reading the data the chasers collected. Your apprehension wasn’t thwarted by Kate’s reassurance, but you’d always known her to be smart and she knew those storms better than anyone. Your distaste for storm chasers was not because of those there for the science of it all, but rather those who did it for the thrill. 
Tyler Owens was exactly the kind of person you expected to drive into tornados with no regard for the danger. What he was doing, from what you gathered from Javi’s brief explanation, was for entertainment and the excitement of facing down peril, laughing in the face of it. 
You stretched in the nighttime air as Kate closed the truck door behind her and turned to you with the same unsure smile she’d been carrying around since you arrived in Oklahoma. You could tell her feelings were mixed about being back there, but you also saw the spark of enjoyment she was slowly relighting. 
“I’ll go check us in,” Kate said, gesturing to the front office of the motel before she took off. You leaned against the side of Javi’s truck, yawning and taking in the scene of more storm chasers lounging around the motel’s lot, enjoying each other’s company as you all waited for another storm to pop up amidst the outbreak. 
The sound of boots under gravel approached you, belonging to none other than Tyler Owens himself. “How ‘ya holding up, city girl?” he said. 
He introduced himself to you and Kate when you first arrived with Javi, meeting his team and the other groups of chasers who were all gunning after the same storm. She had told him the two of you were in from New York for the week, and he assumed that meant you both were born and raised there. Maybe you had lost your Midwest twang during your stay, but no matter how far you moved away, a piece of you would always remain there. 
“Just fine, thank you,” you replied. His team had set up not far from where you two stood; they all seemed busy working on their equipment, but their work was often cut by howls of laughter. They seemed to be enjoying themselves more than Javi’s team was. They’d all split up into separate rooms for the night, so they’d be ready to leave first thing in the morning. 
He rested his arm against the bed of the truck, making himself comfortable as he too looked out across the lot at the people. “I’ve always wanted to visit New York City,” he said, surprising you. That seemed like the last place someone like him wanted to go. “What’s it like?” 
You shrugged. “A lot different than this.” You looked upwards at the sky, seeing stars blinking back at you. The skies were never that dark in New York City, but the towering buildings made for a cool scene too. “I haven’t lived there too long, though. I’m still figuring it out.” You were still trying to gauge if you liked it more than home. You liked the hustle and bustle most of the time, but being back under starry skies and open plains, you had to admit you missed it a little. 
“Really?” he furrowed his brows. “Where’d you move from?” 
“Kansas.” 
He smiled in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. City girl’s not actually a city girl after all.” 
“I’m full of surprises.” 
“I’m seein’ that.” Tyler was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Do you miss it?” 
You weren’t sure why he asked or why he seemed to care, but you answered regardless. “Sometimes. Not so much the storms though.” 
He laughed. “Yet, you’re out here storm chasing anyway?” 
“I’m just here to help my friend; their business is to help people. That kind of storm chasing I can get behind, I guess. Yours on the other hand…” You trailed off, and he scoffed in mock offense. 
“My kind of business is to face my fears.” 
It was your turn to scoff. “By putting yourself and your friends in danger for…what, exactly? Your internet audience? I know plenty of people like you from back home. You’re reckless and irresponsible.” You saw Kate waving you down by the stairs of the motel, flashing a set of room keys in the air. You said nothing more to Tyler, didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself, before you walked off and into your room for the night
You’d seen devastation before following a tornado, but it was still a harrowing sight. Homes flattened, family belongings flung miles away, and people left hurt in the ruins of their town. You, Kate, and all of Javi’s team arrived just as the storm subsided and the damage was fresh as wounds many of the townspeople bared. You wasted no time going around to help people; Kate did the same. 
An old woman sat in her front yard, carefully cradling windchimes in her arms. “Are you all right?” you asked, kneeling down in the wet grass in front of her. She looked up slightly startled but smiled kindly as she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m just fine, dear, thank you.” 
“Here you go, Ms. Riley,” a familiar voice sounded from behind you. You turned your head just as Tyler appeared, holding a small box in one hand and a little kitten in the other. The woman, Ms. Riley, gasped and sat her windchimes back on the grass. She took the kitten, teary-eyed, as it purred. “There’s food there too. Make sure you eat, and if you need more my team’s got a table set up just down the road, all right?” 
“Thank you,” she said. 
Tyler said nothing to you as he began to walk away, but you followed him, not catching up with him until he was at a little table surrounded by his team. They had a stack of brown boxes they were handing out, filled with sandwiches one of the members was making quickly. They also handed out bottles of water to the line of people who had just been affected by the storm. 
One of his team members smiled at you, holding out a box of food. “You hungry?” they asked, but you shook your head. 
“No. These people need it, but thanks.” 
You weren’t sure for a moment that Tyler was going to say a word to you. You hadn’t left your last conversation on the nicest note, only to find him and his team working hard to help the ravaged neighborhood. 
But he turned toward you for a moment, looking a little conflicted. “At least take a water,” he said before looking at another member of his team. “Lily, can you take some boxes up the road? There’re  some people who can make it all the way down here.” She nodded, filling her arms with the boxes before she took off.
You were quiet for a moment, staring at Tyler as he and his team came up with a plan to help and feed as many people as they could before night fell. You felt a complicated set of feelings topple over you. And as Tyler started to walk away, you surged forward and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around. 
“What can I do to help?” 
Together, you and Tyler spent the rest of the afternoon helping members of the neighborhood find their lost belongings and connected anyone with injuries to the EMTs working overtime. It wasn’t until the sun started to set that you took a break, finding a blown-away lawn chair that was still usable to sit on. All day you had eaten your judgment and first impression of Tyler and his team. Maybe they all were reckless and a little irresponsible in their storm-chasing, but they were doing just as Kate was, helping people, just differently. He and his team apparently did that often and were some of the first responders to the damage the tornados they chased caused. You had overheard Lily tell Kate they used the money from their t-shirt sales to buy food for victims of the storm. 
“Hey,” Tyler greeted, approaching you with two boxes of food. “Here.” He handed onto to you before he found a seat and pulled it up beside you. 
You thanked him before the two of you ate in silence for a little while. Some of the debris had been picked up, but the wrecked houses haunted the street. You’d been lucky enough to never lose your home turning a storm, but you knew too many people who had. It was terrible. That was why you had gotten a metrology degree. You had witnessed the devastation storms brought and even though you were trapped behind a computer most days, your goal was to help improve warning systems for all kinds of disasters and ensure that people knew the best way to prepare for them, but it wasn’t foolproof. Sometimes all there was to do was help pick up the pieces in the wake. 
“I think I misjudged you,” you said, breaking the silence. 
“Yeah?” He smiled slightly, his face warmly illuminated by the ironically beautiful sunset. “Are you taking back the reckless and irresponsible comment?” 
“No.” You smiled too. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. You guys did a good thing here, helping these people.” 
Maybe there was more to him than you had originally believed. 
“It’s all a part of the job,” he said, a bit too casually for all of the work they actually did to help; one could say he was humble about it, which confused you even more. From the second he climbed out of his truck the first time you saw him, you were so sure you knew exactly the kind of guy he was. 
“You aren’t exactly how I expected you to do,” you said, honestly. 
He seemed to take that in stride, smirking at you bright enough to bring heat to your face. “Well, if you stick around, you might even get to like me.” 
You laughed. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.” But you had a feeling he right be right. The week wasn’t over yet; you still had time to figure out exactly who Tyler Owens was. 
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hairmetal666 · 4 months ago
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Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.
And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 
So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.
They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."
After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.
He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.
And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.
Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."
He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.
Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.
Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.
They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"
And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."
Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"
"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."
He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."
Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."
His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.
The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.
The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"
Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"
The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.
Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.
It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"
Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."
He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."
"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."
"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.
---
The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.
He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."
Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."
The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.
Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.
He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.
They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.
When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 
---
Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.
The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.
It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--
Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.
He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.
He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.
Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.
"Okay?" Wayne asks.
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.
He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"
And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."
And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."
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coff33andb00ks · 5 months ago
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Rule Breaker - Pt 1
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max verstappen x single mom!reader
{next}
face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers
"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."
On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.
His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.
"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."
"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."
She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"
Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"
"No, no, where in America," he corrected.
"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"
No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"
"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."
He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"
"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"It's not so bad."
"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"
Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"
"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."
That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"
Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."
"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.
"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.
His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.
"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."
"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.
"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."
"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.
"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."
"Does he like racing?"
"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."
"You'll have to bring him to the track—"
"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."
Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."
"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."
"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."
She giggled, letting out a snort.
And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.
*-*
"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"
Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"
Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"
"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"
Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."
Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"
"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"
"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."
"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."
"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.
"You know it!" y/n called after her.
Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.
Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.
"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.
"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"
Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.
"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.
"He's nice."
"Just nice?"
"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"
Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."
Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.
Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."
Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"
"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."
"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."
"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."
"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."
Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.
"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."
"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.
"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.
"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.
They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.
👋🏻
Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.
Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.
And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.
Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.
Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?
She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.
"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.
"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.
"Love you, Mama."
*-*
"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.
Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.
"Hi!" He waved.
"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.
"Kevin Scott—"
"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"
The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."
"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."
Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"
"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."
"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.
"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."
Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"
Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"
"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.
"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"
Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"
She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."
Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"
Grinning, Max nodded and stood.
"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"
"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."
She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."
"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"
"Only on my tour the other day."
"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.
"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."
"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.
"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"
"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.
"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."
Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"
"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."
What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"
Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.
At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.
"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."
"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"
"I did. And I won the championship too."
"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.
"I am."
"Like Lightning McQueen?"
"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.
She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"
"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"
"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"
"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.
"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.
"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"
Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."
His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."
Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."
"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.
"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.
"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.
Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"
Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.
Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.
"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.
"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."
"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"
"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."
"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"
She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"
"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.
"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"
Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."
Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"
Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"
"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."
"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.
"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."
"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."
"I can Google," she told him.
"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.
To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."
He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.
"I just worry," she sighed.
"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."
"Thank you."
"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.
"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.
Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.
God, she was lovely.
She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."
Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."
"I'm sorry," he said automatically.
"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."
"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.
You always fuck up don't you?
His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.
"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.
Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."
She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.
You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.
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churipu · 8 months ago
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SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.
note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33
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"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."
nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"
(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.
"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.
half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.
"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.
nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.
what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.
"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."
nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.
(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.
the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."
"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."
nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.
he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).
but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.
"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.
the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.
unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."
(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.
nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"
the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.
nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."
the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.
"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?
nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"
you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."
the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"
you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"
nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"
"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.
"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."
you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"
her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"
and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"
the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"
you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."
"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"
the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.
"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"
and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"
nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.
(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"
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