#but then decided no i want this as a reblog

[theetherealbloom]

Whole Package, Babe, I Like The Way You Fit

Summary: Holiday beach trip with Pedro and friends.

Or, that one new Pedro shirtless pic…

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Beach Trip, Light Blood, Scratch, Ocean, Swimming, Swimwear, Shirtless Pedro, Light SMUT, Spicy, Sweet, Implied SMUT, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: The mf decided to give us shirtless Pedro and suddenly I have the will to live again LMAO. Weirdly enough, I am also at the beach while writing this so it’s kinda a funny coincidence… Imagine if we were at the same beach, that would be so funny (He can never know my existence I might die.)

No one ask me how I knew what hotel they were staying at. I scare myself too dw.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

| Main Masterlist |

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — DAY

The warm tropical breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean as you stepped onto the soft, powdery sand of the secluded beach Pedro’s friends had chosen for the Christmas getaway. The sun kissed your skin, palm trees swayed lazily overhead, and the gentle rhythm of waves provided the perfect soundtrack for a holiday escape.  

The group—Lauren Alexander, Brandan Campbell, Omar Apollo, and Pedro’s ever-charismatic agent, Franklin Latt—had already claimed a prime spot near the water. Lounge chairs were lined up under brightly colored umbrellas, a massive cooler sat brimming with ice and drinks, and Omar was enthusiastically attempting to set up a speaker while humming the latest tune stuck in his head.  

Pedro lagged a few steps behind you, carrying your beach bag and his, though his attention wasn’t on the task. It was on you.  

When you shrugged off your airy cover-up, revealing a stunning red bikini that hugged your curves just right, Pedro froze mid-step. His sunglasses couldn’t hide the way his jaw tightened or how his eyes darkened as they roamed over you.  

“Everything okay there?” you teased, tilting your head as you caught him staring.  

Pedro blinked, visibly gathering himself. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” He cleared his throat, but his gaze didn’t waver. “More than fine.”  

You smirked, adjusting the straps of your bikini for good measure. “You’re staring.”  

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, taking a step closer. His voice dipped, low and husky. “You look... breathtaking.”  

A flush crept up your neck, but you refused to let him win so easily. “Not too bad yourself,” you quipped, lightly poking his chest. His white linen shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of his tan skin and the gold chain that rested against his collarbone.  

Pedro chuckled, the sound warm and intimate. “If I’d known you’d be wearing this, I’d have hired a bodyguard to keep everyone else from looking.”  

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”  

He leaned in, his hand brushing against your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. “Stop being so cute, or I might never let you leave my sight,” he murmured.  

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you teased, your voice playful but your heart racing.  

“Both,” he said, his grin widening as he pulled back to admire you once more.  

From nearby, Omar let out a loud whistle. “Pedro, are you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna help us with this speaker? Some of us want to vibe to music!”  

Pedro groaned, turning reluctantly toward the group but throwing an arm around your shoulders as he led you over. “Fine, but only because she’s coming with me,” he called out, earning a round of laughter.  

As you settled into the setup, the sun beamed overhead, and the carefree energy of the group was infectious. Pedro stayed close, his arm brushing yours as you helped Lauren unpack snacks, and his eyes never strayed far from you.  

At one point, Franklin handed you a coconut with a straw and a cheeky smile. “Best way to stay hydrated,” he said, winking.  

“Cheers,” Pedro said, clinking his coconut against yours. He took a sip before leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear. “But if you spill even a drop, I’m licking it off you.”  

Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on your drink. “Pedro!” you hissed, swatting at him.  

He grinned, unapologetic. “What? I’m just being practical.”  

The day unfolded in easy laughter and warmth, with the sun high overhead and the turquoise ocean sparkling like a field of diamonds. Pedro carried you on his back through the shallows, his hands gripping your thighs as you pretended to be his commanding officer.  

“Faster, soldier!” you commanded, leaning forward and tugging gently at his ears as if steering him.  

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” he called back, mock-serious but laughing as he jogged through the water, sending small waves splashing around you both. “Anything else, ma’am? Should I do some push-ups in the sand too?”  

You grinned wickedly. “Push-ups? I’d like to see you try—with me on your back.”  

Pedro stopped abruptly, twisting his head to glance at you with a raised brow. “Oh, you think I can’t?”  

“I know you can’t,” you teased, leaning down to press your cheek against his.  

He smirked, suddenly spinning in place. “You’re asking for it now.”  

Before you could protest, he dropped into the water with a dramatic splash, sending you tumbling off his back and into the cool embrace of the ocean.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, surfacing with a gasp and pushing your wet hair out of your face.  

He was already laughing, standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead. “That’s what you get for doubting my strength!”  

“Oh, you’re so dead!” you shouted, lunging toward him.  

Pedro yelped playfully, backpedaling but not fast enough. You caught his arm, laughing as you pulled him down into the water with you. The two of you wrestled like kids, splashing and laughing so hard your stomach hurt.  

“Truce! Truce!” he called out, holding up his hands in surrender as you pelted him with another wave of water.  

“Do you admit defeat?” you demanded, a triumphant grin on your face.  

“Never!” he declared, darting forward to grab your waist. Before you could react, he lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around in the water.  

“Pedro!” you shrieked, laughing and trying to wriggle free.  

“You wanted a soldier,” he said, his voice full of mischief, “and now you’ve got one!”  

You finally stopped struggling, letting your arms drape around his shoulders as he held you close. The laughter faded into something softer, the two of you catching your breath as you stood chest-deep in the water.  

His hands slid down to your hips, steadying you as he gazed at you with a look that made your heart flutter. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.  

The way he said it, like it was a simple truth he’d always believed, made your cheeks warm despite the cool water. “You’re just saying that because I’m soaked and ridiculous-looking,” you replied, biting back a smile.  

“No,” he said, leaning in so his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”  

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant at first, like he was savoring the moment. The kiss deepened quickly, his arms pulling you closer until there was no space between you.  

When you pulled back for air, Pedro’s eyes were dark, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “You’ve got this effect on me,” he admitted, his voice husky.  

“Oh yeah?” you teased, though your voice wavered with the same breathless energy.  

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands sliding up your back. “And I never want it to go away.”  

For a while, the rest of the world melted away. You stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the ocean rocking gently around you. He kissed you like he was memorizing every detail, every taste, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips, feeling completely and utterly adored.  

At one point, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “If this is what it feels like to surrender, I’m never fighting again.”  

You laughed, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I like you defeated.”  

“And I think I like you here, in my arms,” he replied softly, his lips brushing against your temple.  

The sound of your friends laughing and splashing in the distance barely registered. For now, it was just you and Pedro, lost in a world of sunlit kisses and salty skin, the ocean your only witness.  

The group gathered in a loose circle, each person holding a large green coconut decorated with colorful straws and tiny paper umbrellas. The warm, golden light of the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a soft glow, making the moment feel like a scene out of a postcard. Omar crouched to capture the perfect angle with his camera while Lauren struck a dramatic pose, tilting her head back and raising her coconut like it was a chalice of the gods.  

“Lauren, you’re doing the most,” Franklin said, shaking his head but smiling as he adjusted his sunglasses.  

“Darling, I am the most,” Lauren shot back with a wink, drawing laughs from everyone.  

Pedro, standing just behind you, pulled you snugly against his side, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. “C’mon, let’s show them how it’s done,” he murmured in your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.  

Franklin, standing in front with his phone, held it up. “Okay, lovebirds, your turn. Smile for the camera!”  

You turned your face toward Pedro’s at the exact same moment he turned toward you, and the laughter bubbled up before either of you could stop it. Your foreheads bumped lightly, and you both dissolved into giggles, the kind of uncontainable joy that made your chest feel light.  

“Oh, my god,” Lauren groaned theatrically, pointing at the two of you. “Are they even real? Look at them, they’re in their own damn rom-com!”  

“Y’all are embarrassing,” Omar chimed in, snapping pictures anyway. “But keep doing whatever that is because it’s disgustingly cute.”  

Pedro’s grin widened as he tilted his head toward you, his nose brushing against yours. “You’re ridiculous,” you said through your laughter, feeling your cheeks warm under the attention.  

“And you’re perfect,” Pedro replied, his voice low but playful, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smirk.  

Franklin groaned loudly, still holding up his phone. “For the love of all things holy, just kiss her already! We’re trying to make memories here, not watch a slow-burn romance unfold in real-time!”  

Pedro raised an eyebrow, glancing at the group before looking back at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What do you think, Hermosa? Should we give them what they want?”  

You laughed, pretending to ponder. “Hmm… maybe. But only if you make it a good one.”  

“Challenge accepted,” Pedro whispered, and then his lips were on yours, soft but sure. The kiss was sweet and unhurried, the kind that made everything around you fade into the background.  

“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it,” Lauren shrieked, clapping her hands together like a giddy child.  

“Finally!” Omar exclaimed, snapping several pictures in rapid succession. “This is going on the Christmas card.”  

“Make sure you get my good side!” Pedro joked, pulling back just enough to shoot Omar a wink, his arm still secure around your waist.  

“I don’t think you have a bad side,” you teased, your eyes meeting Pedro’s.  

“Ugh, stop!” Franklin groaned, clutching his chest dramatically. “This is too much. I need a drink—and not out of a coconut. I’m going straight for the tequila.”  

Everyone burst into laughter, the lighthearted teasing filling the air as the moment was immortalized with photos, laughter, and a shared sense of joy. Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your temple as the group continued to banter.  

“They’re just jealous,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with affection.  

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling at the warmth in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’m not sharing, so they can stay jealous.”  

Pedro chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because neither am I.”  

The heat of the day softened into a golden, languid warmth as the two of you found refuge under the shade of a broad umbrella. The beach stretched endlessly before you, the waves lazily licking at the shore. Pedro reclined in a beach chair, his book propped open on his lap. The faint breeze tousled his hair, a few stray strands falling over his forehead, and the way he absentmindedly pushed them back sent a flutter through your chest.  

You leaned against his side, your legs stretched out on the chair beside him, the perfect picture of ease. With one hand, you held your favorite romance novel, its dog-eared pages evidence of how many times you'd read it. With the other, you traced patterns along the inked lines of his tattoos. Your fingertips moved slowly, savoring the ridges of muscle and warmth beneath his skin, as if committing every part of him to memory.  

Pedro’s free hand slid into yours, threading your fingers together with a natural intimacy that still made your heart skip a beat. He didn’t look up from his book as he murmured, “Everything feels right when you’re with me.”  

The sincerity in his tone made you pause, your eyes lifting from the words on the page. A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “I know the feeling,” you replied, your voice soft.  

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the kind that only comes when you’re entirely at ease with someone. The distant laughter of your friends mingled with the rhythmic crashing of waves, creating a serene soundtrack to your stolen moment.  

Pedro finally set his book down, slipping a receipt in as a placeholder. His gaze shifted to you, lingering in a way that made your cheeks heat even before he said a word.  

“You know,” he began, his voice warm and teasing, “you’re kind of amazing.”  

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes with a playful arch of your brow. “Kind of?”  

Pedro chuckled, his smile widening. “Okay, more than kind of. Very. Incredibly. Like, the kind of amazing that makes me wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”  

You closed your book, setting it on the small table between your chairs. Turning slightly, you rested your chin on his shoulder, your fingers still entwined with his. “Pedro, where’s all this coming from?”  

He shrugged, but his eyes were soft, almost vulnerable. “Just thinking. Watching you. It hits me sometimes how lucky I am. How lucky I feel to be the one sitting here with you.”  

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “You’re the one everyone loves. The kind, talented, ridiculously handsome Pedro Pascal. If anything, I’m the lucky one.”  

Pedro leaned closer, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re wrong about that. Don’t get me wrong—I like myself just fine,” he teased, earning a laugh from you. “But you? You’re everything. Smart, funny, compassionate. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful you are.”  

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried to deflect with a teasing grin. “Oh, so it’s just my looks, huh?”  

“Not even close,” Pedro said, his voice dropping to a softer, deeper tone. “It’s the way you talk about your favorite books like they’re old friends. The way you laugh with your whole body. The way you care about everyone—how you make every room brighter just by being in it.”  

“Pedro…” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion.  

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve got everyone wrapped around your finger,” he added, his grin returning. “Omar can’t go ten minutes without asking if you need something, and Lauren keeps calling you her ‘new favorite person.’”  

You laughed, brushing at your cheeks as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”  

Pedro’s expression softened further, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if to catch a tear before it could fall. “If I do, they’d better be happy tears. Because, cariño, I love you more than I ever thought was possible.”  

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into his touch. “I love you too. So much.”  

For a moment, the world around you faded into the background. Pedro leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and tender, like a promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“Promise me you’ll always stay this close,” he said, his tone carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place.  

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. “I promise. Always.”  

Pedro’s heart swelled at your words, and though he didn’t say it out loud, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He pictured the perfect ring, the perfect moment, the perfect way to ask you to spend forever with him.  

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.  

You didn’t need to say anything else. The way you melted into his arms, the way your fingers found his once again, said everything. For now, this was enough. But in his heart, Pedro knew it wouldn’t be long before he made good on the promise his soul had already made: to love you, always.

The late afternoon sun bathed the beach in golden light as you wandered back into the water. The waves lapped gently at your legs, warm and inviting. Lost in the tranquil rhythm of the ocean, you didn’t notice the jagged rock just below the surface until it grazed your shin. You winced, feeling the sharp sting before brushing it off as nothing.  

You emerged from the water, the salty breeze brushing against your skin. Pedro, lounging nearby with a half-finished coconut drink, immediately sat up. His eyes darted to your leg, catching the small but noticeable trail of red trickling down your shin.  

“Are you bleeding?” His voice carried that signature mix of concern and urgency that only Pedro could make sound so endearing.  

You glanced down, surprised to see the cut. “Oh.”  

“Oh?” Pedro’s tone was incredulous as he practically leapt from his chair, already reaching for the towel draped over the back. “That’s all you have to say? Oh?”  

“It’s just a scratch, Pedro,” you said with a small laugh, trying to wave him off. “I’m fine.”  

But Pedro was having none of it. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands circling your calf to keep your leg still. The towel dabbed gently at the cut, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re not allowed to get hurt on my watch,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.  

“It’s barely a paper cut,” you teased, watching the way his features softened even as he fussed over you.  

“Doesn’t matter.” His voice was firm, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. “What if it gets infected? What if—”  

You laughed, cutting him off. “Pedro, it’s not like I got bitten by a shark.”  

He looked up at you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “Don’t joke about that. I’d fight a shark for you, you know.”  

The sincerity in his voice, paired with the completely ridiculous statement, made you laugh even harder. “Oh, I’m sure you would,” you said, brushing your fingers through his damp curls.  

“Don’t test me,” he quipped, finally satisfied that the cut was clean. He reached for the small first-aid kit Franklin had insisted on bringing, pulling out a bandage. “Hold still.”  

“Seriously?” you asked, your amusement growing.  

“Seriously,” he said, shooting you a look that dared you to challenge him. He peeled the adhesive back and smoothed the bandage over your shin with a precision that would make a surgeon proud.  

“There,” he said, sitting back on his heels and surveying his work with a nod. “Good as new.”  

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but smiling all the same.  

“And you’re reckless,” he shot back, standing up and pulling you into his arms. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and this is what happens.”  

You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest. “I think you’re overreacting. It’s a scratch, Pedro.”  

“It’s your scratch,” he said, his voice softening. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours. “That means it matters to me.”  

Your heart did a little flip at his words, and you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “You know how you’re like—”  

“Absolutely embarrassingly in love with you?” he cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips.  

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, that.”  

Pedro leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I am, you know,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with you.”  

Your teasing melted away as you cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over the scruff of his jaw. “Good. Because I’m absolutely embarrassingly in love with you too.”  

His smile grew, and he kissed you softly, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, no more rock fights, okay? You’ve got to take it easy on me.”  

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll do my best. But no promises if a shark shows up.”  

Pedro groaned dramatically, lifting you off your feet as he carried you back to the lounge chairs. “If a shark shows up, I’ll negotiate with it. Tell it I’m already your protector and it can’t have the job.”  

You giggled, nuzzling against his neck. “Sounds like a good plan. My hero.”  

He set you down with exaggerated care, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Always,” he said simply.  

And as the two of you sat there, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, you felt it again—that perfect, undeniable feeling of being home.

HOTEL ESENCIA, MEXICO — SUNSET

The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and deep indigo, casting a magical glow over the beach. The group sat in a loose circle, their laughter and conversation mingling with the soft crash of the waves and the mellow strumming of a guitar Omar had picked up. The mood was serene, the kind of calm that felt like it could stretch forever.  

Pedro sat behind you on the sand, his strong arms wrapped securely around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel the soft puff of his breath against your neck. His warmth enveloped you, a perfect contrast to the cool ocean breeze.  

“You cold, cariño?” Pedro murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.  

“Not even a little,” you replied, turning your head to catch his eyes. They sparkled, reflecting the fiery colors of the horizon.  

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against your stomach. “Good. Can’t have you shivering out here, not when I’ve got two perfectly good arms to keep you warm.”  

“You’re too good at this,” you teased, smiling as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.  

“Good at what?” he asked, his tone playful, though his eyes held that familiar, unspoken intensity that always made your heart skip a beat.  

“At making me feel like the luckiest person in the world,” you said softly.  

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow smile, and he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your temple. “That’s funny,” he murmured, “because that’s exactly how I feel about you.”  

The golden light of the sunset cast a halo around his face, and you couldn’t help but reach up, cupping his cheek as you brought his forehead to yours. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say things like that.”  

“You’d better not,” he said, his voice warm and teasing, though there was an edge of vulnerability beneath it. “Because I’m not planning on stopping.”  

“I’ll love you forever,” Pedro whispered, his lips ghosting against your ear as the first stars began to peek through the darkening sky.  

You tilted your head back to meet his gaze fully, the world around you falling away. “You promise?”  

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. “I promise,” he said, his voice steady and filled with so much certainty it made your chest ache in the best way.  

His lips found yours in a kiss that was soft and lingering, filled with a sweetness that felt endless. When he pulled back, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before tucking you closer to him.  

The night deepened, and the group eventually wandered back to the cozy beachfront hotel. Pedro’s hand never left yours as you made your way to your shared room, the two of you moving in quiet, comfortable synchronicity.  

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the glow of a single bedside lamp casting a warm, intimate light over the space. The sound of the waves was faint through the open balcony doors, and the scent of salt air mingled with the faintly floral perfume you’d spritzed on earlier.  

Pedro closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his expression soft but unmistakably intent. “You know,” he said, stepping closer, “I meant it. Every word I said out there.”  

You tilted your head, giving him a playful look. “Even the part where you said you’d never get tired of me stealing the covers?”  

“Especially that part,” he said with a grin, his hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Though I might need extra cuddles as compensation.”  

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”  

His grin faded, replaced by something deeper, more serious, as his eyes searched yours. “I love you,” he said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything he felt. “So much that sometimes it scares me.”  

You leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you too. And you don’t have to be scared, Pedro. You’ve got me.”  

His lips claimed yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his hands splaying across your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss deepened, his lips parting to taste yours, and you felt the warmth of him everywhere.  

He backed you gently toward the bed, his movements unhurried, as if savoring every moment. The backs of your knees hit the edge, and you sank onto the soft mattress, pulling him down with you.  

Pedro’s hands roamed, his touch reverent as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your neck. “Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.  

“You’re perfect,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly to bring his lips back to yours.  

His breath hitched at your words, and you felt the weight of his love in every kiss, every touch. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other, lost in a moment that felt infinite.  

Pedro pulled back briefly, his forehead resting against yours as his fingers laced with yours. “You’re my everything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your heart full to bursting.  

And as the night stretched on, the love between you grew even deeper, wrapping around you both like a warm, unbreakable cocoon.

[little-bloodied-angel]

I apologize in advance if this is hijacking, feel free to tell me so. (I've reblogged without additions too, just in case).

I'm nonbinary transmasc. And when I was figuring that one out and feeling a lot of very complicated (and mostly not good) stuff, the people that held my hand and helped me were trans women. The people who convinced me life didn't end then were trans women. The people who helped me not feel like a traitor to my own experiences and to womanhood were trans women. The people who helped me decide I didn't have to stop wearing what I wanted, or cut my hair, or generally not be femme anymore, were trans women (and transfem nb people). I didn't know any trans men yet, or any transmascs. They introduced me, actually.

The people who made my life immeasurably better and more than likely helped save it were queer trans women and transfems. Whether or not we still talk, I will literally always remember you and the impact you had on me.

So yes. The world in general, and mine specifically, is better for having trans women in it. And I guess I just wanted y'all to hear it from someone who isn't a trans woman because I am so done with seeing post after post where the only people uplifting you all and reminding you of your worth are other trans women. You deserve better than only being able to rely on each other. You deserve the world to give a little bit back.

the world is a better place with trans women in it

[requiemforthepoets]

ain’t nothing like an asian wedding! 𖦹 LN4

part one

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!asian!reader

SUMMARY: you and lando just wanted to make the most of your singapore trip before heading off to the UK, but it seems like everything descended into series of unfortunate events. though maybe, this is also a way to get lando be acquainted with everyone that may or may not drive your whole family crazy and singapore’s social elites on a daily basis.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, google translated chinese, mentions of gutted fish, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, minor public indecency (not main characters), mentions of marriage & grandchild, mean/bully characters, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 18k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!! i hope you are all having a very wonderful holidays! so i have decided to post the part 2 of ‘stickwitu’, ask and you shall receive! lolz but i love crazy rich asians so much and i just can’t let go of this kind of crossover (?). i had decided to chop off this one to three parts, with 20k max of word count since i wanna get it all out there. this one is open for taglist as well since there will be a part 3 of this, so just comment if you wanna be tagged hehe. your comments/reblogs are highly appreciated 🥺 hope you’ll enjoy this second part! <3

The early return was unplanned but felt necessary after everything that happened at Araminta’s bachelorette party. The atmosphere among the girls was tense, full of subtle jabs and veiled competition that you and Rachel simply were not in the mood to tolerate any longer.

On the second day, when you got the chance, over breakfast, you leaned over to Rachel and whispered your plan. She hesitated at first, unsure if Araminta would even believe it, but eventually nodded in agreement, trusting you to handle the situation.

You approached Araminta just before the midday activities, adopting a concerned tone as you told her that Rachel was not really feeling well. You explained how she had been feeling faint and a bit queasy since the night before but had been trying to push through. Araminta’s face immediately fell into worry, and she reached out to Rachel, who played her part perfectly, adding a weak smile and saying she just needed rest.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel murmured, holding Araminta’s hand. “I really wanted to stay, but I think it’s better if I head back to the city.”

Araminta turned to you, her concern for Rachel deepened. “Do you need me to come with you? I don't want you both traveling alone if she’s not well.”

You shook your head, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “Absolutely not. Minty, this is your bachelorette party, and you shouldn’t leave everyone behind. I’ll take care of everything. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

It took some convincing, but eventually, Araminta relented. She hugged you both tightly, telling Rachel to rest and recover, that she’ll be seeing you both on the wedding day. As you left the island, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the lie, but the overwhelming relief of leaving outweighed it.

The flight back to the city was quiet at first, the two of you decompressing from the tension of the past day. Rachel let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we pulled that off. I feel terrible lying to her, though.”

You sighed, leaning back into the plush seat. “I know. But honestly, that crowd was unbearable. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.”

“Thank you for getting me out of there. I owe you one.” Rachel smiled gratefully at you.

Once you landed, the two of you decided to make the most of the unexpected free day. You took her to some of your favorite spots in Singapore, then introduced her to local dishes and hidden gems around the city. From the bustling hawker centers to the serene gardens, you wanted her to see more than just the usual tourist spots.

“You weren’t kidding when you said Singapore is magical,” she said as she admired the view from Marina Bay Sands.

“It’s home,” you replied with a small smile. “And now you’ve seen a little piece of it.”

By the time you dropped her off at the hotel, it was late, the city lights twinkling against the dark sky. As you hugged her goodbye, Rachel whispered, “thanks again for today. I really needed this.”

“You’re very welcome, and hey, if anyone asks, you’re still recovering from that ‘terrible stomach bug.’”

Your family driver was already waiting as you stepped out of the hotel. You gave Rachel one last wave before sliding into the car, sinking into the leather seat as the city blurred past the window. The relief of being home and away from the chaos of the island was evident, and for the first time in days, you felt at ease.

The house was quiet as you stepped inside, but your mind was already racing with the thought of seeing Lando. The faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft creak of the floor beneath your feet were the only sounds accompanying you as you called out his name. No response.

You wandered from room to room, checking the living room, kitchen, even the study, but there was no sign of him. Then, as you approached the sliding glass doors leading to the patio, you saw him sitting there, phone in hand, smiling and laughing as he talked to someone on facetime.

Lando’s gaze shifted towards the door as you slid it open, and his face lit up when he saw you. He motioned for you to come over, his smile growing even more brighter. You made your way to him, the cool evening breeze brushing against your skin.

As you reached him, you wrapped an arm around his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. His free arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, and he returned the kiss, deeper and more deliberate. When you pulled away slightly, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of surprise.

“You’re back early,” he murmured softly, his thumb grazing your hip.

“I’ll tell you everything later,” you said, glancing toward the phone in his hand. It was that you noticed the familiar face on the screen, Max. “Hi, Max,” you greeted warmly.

“Hey, you,” Max replied with a grin, leaning closer to the camera. “Back already? Thought you were off on some wild bachelorette adventure?”

You laughed softly. “Something like that. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you guys. How have you been? And Pietra? I can’t wait to catch up when we're in the UK for Christmas.”

Max chuckled. “We’re good. Pietra’s already planning the whole holiday—dinner menus, decorations, everything. You’ll have to let her drag you into the chaos.”

Lando shifted slightly, pulling you down onto his lap, his hand resting on your waist as he held his phone with the other. You settled against him, his fingers idly tracing shapes on your side while you continued chatting with Max.

“She doesn’t have to drag me. I’m ready for it,” you replied, smiling. “Tell her to save me a spot in the kitchen, I’m good at taste-testing.”

“I’ll pass that on,” Max and Lando shared a laugh, but then Max’s expression softened. “Honestly though, it’s good seeing you hoth happy. Pietra and I were just talking about how happy you’ve made this muppet. But you know, we were skeptical at first.”

“Oh, I remember,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Something about expecting me to be snobby?”

Max laughed, holding both his hands up in defense. “Hey, it’s not everyday that someone from your background walks into our lives. But you proved us wrong pretty quickly. You’re as down-to-earth as they come, and more importantly, you make little Lando happy. That’s all we care about.”

Your gaze shifted to Lando, whose thumb was tracing idle patterns on your side, a content smile resting on his face. “Well, he makes me happy too,” you said softly.

Max smiled. “Good. That’s all that matters. Anyway, I’ll let you two catch up. Don’t keep him up too late.”

You laughed, nodding. “I’ll make sure he gets some sleep. See you soon, Max.”

“See you soon,” he replied, before ending the call.

As the screen went dark, Lando set his phone down and wrapped both arms around you, holding you close.

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice low and earnest.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, leaning into him, the weight of the past few days melting away in his embrace.

The evening air was cool and crisp as you sat comfortably on Lando’s lap, the soft hum of distant city noise blending with the quiet rustle of leaves. His arm rested securely around your waist while his other hand lazily drummed against the armrest of the chair. He tilted his head slightly to look at you, his expression soft but curious.

“So,” he began, voice low and easy, “why are you back early? I thought you had a few more days of bachelorette shenanigans left.”

You let out a small sigh, glancing at the darkened sky before turning your gaze back to him. “It’s a long story,” you said, trying to suppress the frustration that the memory brought up.

Lando’s brows lifted slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We’ve got plenty of time and I’m not going anywhere,” he teased, tone light as he tightened his arm around you.

You laughed softly before settling deeper into his embrace. “Okay, so Rachel traveled with Minty and the other girls ahead of me to Samsara, right? I had to leave later because of a meeting, so I got there after everyone else.”

Lando nodded, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, silently encouraging you to continue.

“When I arrived at the villa,” you said, voice dropping slightly, “I saw Rachel speed-walking back from the spa. She was just wearing her robe, and she looked…off. Like she was about to cry, so I went to her and asked what happened, but she didn’t answer me right away. She just kept walking, looking like she wanted to disappear.”

His expression shifted to one of concern, his brows furrowing as he listened intently.

“I followed her back to the villa she was staying,” you continued, tone growing more serious. “And that’s when we saw a huge gutted fish on her bed, with pink lipstick scrawled across the glass window that said, catch this, you gold-digging bitch.”

Lando’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his jaw tensing. “What the hell?” he muttered, his voice edged with disbelief.

“I know,” you said, exhaling sharply at the memory. “I wanted to call security right then and there, but Rachel stopped me—she didn’t want to make a scene. She was so humiliated, Lan. You could see it all over her face.”

He shook his head, voice low. “That’s fucking awful. Who even does something like that?”

“Oh, I know exactly who’s capable of pulling this kind of stunt,” you said scoffing, tone sharp with certainty. “Francesca Shaw. That little bitch.”

“Who’s Francesca Shaw?” Lando asked in curiosity.

You tilted your head, letting out a dry laugh. “She’s Nadine Shaw’s daughter, one of Auntie Eleanor’s closest friends. Francesca used to be an heiress to the Shaw Foods fortune, but her grandfather cut her off completely from the will after waking up from coma. Guess grandpa Shaw didn’t like how little miss two-faced was spending the family money.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “So, she’s broke now?”

“Eh, pretty much,” you said. “And before you ask, yes, she’s also Nicky’s ex. They dated briefly years ago, but it didn’t go anywhere because Nicky didn’t like how her attitude began to change for the worse. Francesca clearly thought she still had shot, but when Rachel came into the picture, that dream was practically over. She’s been a bitter bitch ever since.”

Lando leaned back slightly, grip still firm on your waist. “So, she’s trying to ruin things for them all because of jealousy?”

“Not just jealousy,” you corrected. “Envy. She’s spent her whole life in circles like ours, and now that she’s lost her position, she’s desperate to claw her way back in. She probably sees Rachel as a threat, someone she thinks doesn’t belong.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “That’s pathetic. I can’t believe someone would go that far.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But Rachel didn’t want to make waves, especially not at Minty’s party. It wasn’t the time or place, and honestly, I just wanted to get her out of there. I wasn’t going to let Rachel stay there a second longer, so I told her to act like she was sick, and we left. The toxicity is just too much.”

Lando’s eyes scanned your face, then pressed a soft kiss to your temple, voice filled with reassurance. “You did the right thing. I’m glad that you were there for her.”

You gave him a small smile, “I just couldn’t stand by and let Francesca get to her. Rachel doesn’t deserve any of the shit they’re throwing to her at all.”

“Neither of you do,” Lando said firmly. “But I’m glad you’re back.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in your body ease slightly as you settled back into his embrace, the weight of the day beginning to dissipate.

The next day, you and Lando found yourselves back at your Ah Ma’s estate, where everyone was gathered in the big, spacious dining room that was only reserved for the family. The air was warm with the aroma of fresh dough and seasoned fillings, as half a dozen maids moved seamlessly, rolling small balls of dough into flat circles and forming minced meat into dozens of uniform, expertly shaped balls.

You were seated beside Nick, with Lando on your other side. While this was not Lando’s first time making dumplings, you often found yourself teaching him the technique whenever you were in Monaco. It had become a little tradition between the two of you as well, and you always made sure to leave him with a stack of freshly prepared dumplings to store in his freezer before you fly back to New York.

Lando had a knack for making dumplings by now, though you couldn’t always trust him with all the cooking in general, especially after the time you learned through Max’s stream that he had been running on no sleep for twenty-six hours, eaten out-of-date food, and spent his break before the Las Vegas GP playing call of duty. Dumplings, at least, were something he could handle—trusting not to burn his own kitchen down.

A maid carried a tray of the minced meat balls to the center of the room, where your mother and other family members—Nick, Rachel, Oliver, and your Aunties Alix and Eleanor, were all gathered around a large table. They worked busily, folding dumplings with swift, practiced hands and placing them neatly into stacked bamboo steamers.

This was a cherished family tradition, and your Aunties led the effort with the ease of many years of experience, their hands moving expertly while they kept up a lively flow of conversation. The hum of chatter filled the dining room, blending perfectly with the rhythmic movements of the dumpling-making process.

Your Auntie Eleanor carefully inspected the tray of folded dumplings and gave a satisfactory nod of approval, her sharp eye ensuring every piece was up to standard. Meanwhile, your mother glanced at the dozen trays already filled, her expression betraying a mix of alarm and disbelief.

“This is all too much,” your Auntie Alix remarked, shaking her head as she folded another dumpling with her precise fingers. “We’re only hosting a rehearsal dinner, not feeding an entire army.”

Your Auntie Eleanor countered almost immediately, her tone firm yet practical. “It is better that it’s too much than too little. Imagine people saying we’re stingy, that’s much worse.”

On the other side of the table, Nick was patiently teaching Rachel how to fold her first dumpling. He held the thin dumpling dough in his hand, placed a small ball of minced meat in the center, and carefully folded the edges, sealing it closed with practiced ease.

“It’s like tucking in a baby,” Nick explained, glancing at Rachel with a smile.

Rachel’s face lit up at the analogy. “That’s so cute,” she said, then added with mock horror, “and then you eat the baby.”

Her comment sent everyone into fits of laughter. Then Oliver, always quick to join in on the fun, leaned forward and added his own take on how to fold a dumpling.

“Grand Auntie Mabel taught me that folding dumplings is like getting botox,” he said, picking up dumpling dough. “The filling is the botox, and the wrapper is the face. You pinch it here and here, and voilà! You now have a flawless face.”

The whole table erupted with laughter again, and Rachel, shaking her head at the humor, asked, “did you all learn how to make dumplings when you were kids?”

You turned to her and nodded, folding another dumpling as you replied, “we didn’t exactly have a choice, it was mandatory.”

Then your mother chimed in from across the table, her voice carrying a mix of pride and amusement. “We taught all of you so that you’ll all understand the blood, sweat, and tears it took to raise and feed you monkeys.” she said, folding her dumpling expertly and placing it on the tray.

Your Auntie Alix nodded in agreement with your mother. “Not like the ang-mohs, microwaving everything for their children. No wonder, when their parents grow old, they send them to the old folks’ home.”

Lando turned to you, asking silently that only the two of you could hear, “babe, what’s ang-mohs?”

“Oh, it’s a colloquial expression used to refer to Caucasians or Westerners.” you replied as Lando nodded.

“Exactly. That’s what Ah Ma always says, if we don’t pass down traditions like this, they slowly disappear.” your Auntie Eleanor chimed in, tone firm.

You snickered, rolling your eyes playfully as you murmured loud enough with the intent for everyone to hear, “well, God forbid that we lose the ancient Chinese tradition of guilting your children.”

“Honestly, learning how to make these dumplings is totally worth it. I remember back when I was little, Mom used to wait for me after school with a basket of fresh dumplings.” Nick added, voice softened at the memory, and your Auntie Eleanor smiled, corners of her mouth tugging upward in quiet nostalgia.

“幸運嘅男孩!” (lucky boy!) your Auntie Alix said.

You turned to your mother and teased, “how come I never got after-school dumplings?”

Before your mother could muster out a reply, Oliver had beat her to it, smirking as he quipped, “well, probably because Auntie Elizabeth was busy having an after-school microdermabrasion.”

Your mother gasped, mock-scolding him in rapid Cantonese. “你真系个叻嘅屁股！ 如果你嘅祖父仲在生，佢會直接將你踢到下周.” (you’re such a smart-ass! if your grandfather were still alive, he’d kick you straight into next week) with a quick flick of her wrist, your mother threw a piece of dumpling dough at Oliver, which hit his shirt with a soft plop.

“Auntie!” Oliver looked down at the dough stuck to his chest, brushing it off with an exaggerated pout. “This is Dolce, you know.”

Laugher rippled through the room again, the air filled with warmth, teasing, and the familiar comfort of family banter.

Your Auntie Alix turned to Rachel, her expression curious yet kind. “Rachel, do you speak Cantonese?”

Rachel shook her head, smiling politely. “No, I don’t,” she admitted, then quickly added, “but it’s so great seeing your family bond like this.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Oliver, all of you caught slightly off guard by her statement, except Nick. It was not something you really thought about, it was just how things were.

Rachel seemed to sense everyone’s confusion and explained further, “growing up, it was just me and my Mom. We didn’t have a big family like yours, this is really special.”

“We’re glad that you appreciate it,” Oliver said softly. “You’re right, we’re lucky to have this.”

Your mother and Auntie Alix both smiled, their postures relaxing just a little. Your Auntie Alix even murmured, “it’s nice to hear someone appreciate it.”

Rachel, emboldened by the shift in mood, turned her attention to your Auntie Eleanor, who had been largely quiet, methodically folding dumplings with precision. Her gaze fell on the large emerald ring your Auntie Eleanor was wearing, glinting under the soft light as she carefully placed a dumpling into a bamboo steamer.

“That ring is very stunning, Auntie Eleanor,” Rachel said, voice genuinely admiring. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You paused mid-fold, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you, his eyes widening slightly. The conversation from the other night before leaving for Samsara immediately surfaced in your mind.

Your mother and Auntie Alix both turned to look at your Auntie Eleanor, their expressions carefully neutral as they waited to see how she would respond. Your Auntie Eleanor looked genuinely surprised, her delicate hands momentarily pausing their rhythmic folding of dumplings.

“This ring,” she began, glancing at the emerald on her finger, “was made by my husband, Nick’s father, when he proposed to me.”

Rachel’s eyes lit up with interest. “That’s really amazing. Did he design it himself?”

She gave a small node, movements deliberate as she reshmed folding another dumpling. “He did. He wanted it to be one of a kind.”

“That’s incredible! Where did you two meet?” Rachel's eyes lit up with curiosity, leaning slightly forward.

Nick jumped in, tone light and proud. “They met at Cambridge, both are studying law.”

Rachel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn't know you were a lawyer.” she said, admiration apparent.

Your Auntie Eleanor resumed folding, her expression calm but firm. “I didn’t finish,” she clarified. “When we got married, I chose to withdraw from university.”

Rachel blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry…”

Noticing the slight tension that was slowly forming, your Auntie Eleanor elaborated, voice steady as she carefully sealed another dumpling.

“I made that decision to help my husband run his business and to raise a family. To me, that was a privilege,” she glanced at Rachel, her gaze sharp yet polite. “But to some others, it might seem old-fashioned.”

Rachel hesitated, not really sure of how to respond, but before she could say anything, your Auntie Eleanor continued.

“It’s nice of you that you appreciate this,” she said, gesturing to the room that was filled with chattering and dumpling-making. “Everyone together, contributing, creating something. But I want you to fully understand that all of this doesn’t happen by accident or with the snap of a finger. It’s because we’ve always prioritized family above all else.”

Her voice took on a slightly sharper edge, though still calm. “Sometimes, that means letting go of personal ambitions for the greater good. It’s a lesson I learned early on and one I hope will never be forgotten.”

A very heavy awkward silence settled over the table. You felt Lando’s hand subtly intertwining your fingers under the table, as you glanced at Rachel. Her smile faltered slightly, and her posture stiffened as though she was not entirely sure how to respond.

Your mother and Auntie Alix remained silent, both just looking at their dumplings, minding their own business, their expressions natural but tense. You knew they were traditional in their own ways, yet far more accepting than your Auntie Eleanor. They were not going to intervene, but their discomfort was apparent.

Rachel finally nodded, voice quiet but steady. “I see. Thank you for sharing that, Auntie Eleanor,” she said, offering a faint smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

Then, the dining room doors opened with a soft creak, and your Ah Ma entered with her Thai maids following closely behind, their presence as graceful and composed as always. She was wearing a beautiful silk blouse in shades of soft jade, with her posture upright and regal despite her old age. Your Ah Ma’s presence immediately shifted the atmosphere in the room, dissolving the lingering tension.

Everyone rose to their feet, a chorus of respectful greetings filling the space. You and Lando followed closely behind Nick and Rachel as you walked toward her, hand firmly clasping Lando’s.

Your Ah Ma’s face lit up when her gaze fell on Lando. “Ah, Lan Lan!” she exclaimed, voice warm and filled with genuine affection. “I’m happy to see you again. Tell me, has your dumpling folding improved since the last time?”

Lando smiled, bowing his head slightly in respect. “I think so, Ah Ma,” he replied, voice steady but tinged with amusement. “But you’ll have to judge for yourself.”

Nick stepped forward, taking your Ah Ma’s arm gently, and you mirrored his action on her other side. Her smile widened as she turned to Nick, patting his hand affectionately. “我很高興你帶瑞秋來了.” (i’m so glad you brought rachel) she said, voice kind but observant.

Your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes landed on Rachel, who stood politely beside Nick. She scrutinized her face for a moment, her expression contemplative before breaking into a small smile. “在白天，我可以清楚地看到她。 非常漂亮的臉蛋.” (ah, in the daylight, i can see her clearly. very nice-looking face)

Rachel’s lips parted slightly, unsure how to react, but she eventually nodded and smiled, choosing to take it as a compliment. “謝謝阿媽.” (thank you, ah ma) she said, in a respectful tone.

With Nick and you guiding her, your Ah Ma walked toward her seat at the head of the table. When you reached the chair, Lando quickly stepped forward, pulling it out for her with fluid motion. Your Ah Ma gave Lando an approving nod before settling into the seat, her movements deliberate but elegant.

Once your Ah Ma was seated, she gestured with a delicate wave of her hand. “坐下，你們所有���.” (sit down, all of you) she instructed, tone commanding but not harsh.

Oliver leaned back slightly and chimed in, tone light and teasing. “We’re almost finished, Ah Ma. Just a few more baskets left.”

“Good, good,” she said, a trace of satisfaction in her voice.

While your Ah Ma was observing everyone, her gaze swept over the trays of folded dumplings, her discerning eyes pausing on a particular set of dumplings that stood out. Without any hesitation, she gestured toward the batch and turned to your Auntie Eleanor.

“埃莉諾，你做了這個批次嗎?” (eleanor, did you make this batch?) her tone was sharp, but not unkind.

You Auntie Eleanor straightened slightly, nodding with a subtle air of pride. “是的，阿媽,” (yes, ah ma) she replied, voice composed but tinged with a hint of accomplishment.

Your Ah Ma’s eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned in for a closer look, inspecting the dumplings with the same scrutiny she might give to a priceless piece of jade. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, and she tilted her head, her words carrying a weight of blunt honesty.

”他們看起來不太好,” (they don’t look very good) she remarked, tone in a matter-of-fact but leaving little room for dispute. “你失去了你的觸摸,埃莉諾.” (you’ve lost your touch, eleanor)

The room seemed to pause momentarily, the faintest ripple of tension spreading across the table. You glanced at Rachel, who sat stiffly, her expression carefully neutral, clearly unsure how to react to the sudden critique.

You turned to Lando, who had been watching the exchange with curiosity, leaning slightly toward you as he whispered, “what did Ah Ma say?”

Lowering your voice, you translated quickly but gently, “Ah Ma said the dumplings don’t look good, and that Auntie Eleanor has lost her touch.”

Lando made a face, and though he made no comment, the slight twitch of his lips suggested he was trying not to laugh. You gave him a soft nudge under the table, silently reminding him to keep a straight face.

Even with your Ah Ma’s comment, your Auntie Eleanor maintained her composure, her lips tightening as she focused on folding another dumpling, pretending as though the comment did not bother her at all. But still, you knew that everyone at the table heard everything, and no one was really surprised by your Ah Ma’s brutal honesty.

As the final dumplings were folded and placed neatly into the bamboo steamers, Rachel excused herself, standing from her seat with a polite smile. “I’m just going to the restroom,” she said softly, tone light.

Nick immediately offered, “I'll come with you.”

Rachel just shook her head gently, declining with a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, I can find my way.”

With that, she turned and walked off, navigating through the hallways of the estate, leaving the rest of you to finish arranging the trays.

Meanwhile, your Ah Ma’s sharp eyes scanned the remaining dumplings, her attention landing on the ones Lando had folded. Despite her age, her vision remained sharp as ever, and she leaned forward slightly, inspecting his work. A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“這些很漂亮,” (these are beautiful) she said, nodding approvingly.

Lando lit up at the compliment—well, he didn’t really understand what your Ah Ma had said, but based on her reaction, it’s a positive one. His cheeks colored faintly as he looked at you for a moment, seeking your silent confirmation that he had done well.

Your Ah Ma then turned to you, tone warm but firm as she continued, “你教他很好,我的孫女。 我可以看到他爲此付出的努力。 你跟他幹得真不錯.” (you’ve taught him well, my granddaughter. I can see the effort he’s put into these. you really did a good job with him)

You smiled, bowing your head slightly in acknowledgment of her praise, but before you could respond, her attention shifted back to Lando. Your Ah Ma’s expression softened, yet her words carried a note of earnestness.

“Lan Lan,” she began, “好好照顧自己，好好吃飯,” (take care of yourself, eat properly) she spoke slowly enough that he could understand the weight of her words even if he did not catch every meaning of it.

Your Ah Ma paused, gaze flicking back to you for a moment, before continuing. “I remember when my granddaughter came back here to Singapore after being in Monaco. She was so worried about you.”

Then she turned again to Lando, tone shifting slightly to a mock-scolding one, though her affection for him was evident. “She told me how you hadn’t slept for twenty-six hours and were eating expired food. How can you not take care of yourself?”

Lando ducked his head slightly, his smile sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck, a faint flush creeping into his cheeks.

Switching to Mandarin, she fired rapidly at Lando, though there was no malice in her tone. “你認爲僅僅因爲你年輕，你的身體會原諒一切嗎？ 不會的 你很幸運，我的孫女飛到摩納哥爲你做飯.” (you think just because you’re young, your body will forgive everything? it won’t. you’re lucky my granddaughter flew to to monaco to cook for you)

You were trying not to laugh as you translated everything your Ah Ma said to him, and Lando nodded earnestly, voice quiet but sincere. “I know, Ah Ma. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Your Ah Ma turned to you with a knowing smile. “我什麼時候能指望你結婚?” (when can i expect you to get married?)

You froze on your seat, eyes widening in disbelief as he words hung in the air. You felt Lando’s hand tense slightly in yours under the table, though you were sure he hadn’t understood any of it.

“我想在我死之前見到我的曾孫們。 我已經沒有多少年時間了.” (i want to see my great-grandchildren before i die. i don’t have that many years left) your Ah Ma continued.

The room erupted into laughter at your Ah Ma’s bluntness, a mix of amused chuckles and good-natured teasing. Even your mother, who rarely join on such jokes, could not help but wink at you across the table.

“Ah Ma,” you began, swallowing hard, trying to find the right words to appease her. “蘭多和我還年輕。 他有一個非常忙碌的職業生涯，我們現在都專注於我們的目標.” (lando and i are still young. he has a very busy career, and we’re both focused on our goals right now)

“太年輕了？ 胡說八道！ 你們兩個都老了，有什麼目標？ 家庭是人生最重要的目標,” (too young? nonsense! you’re both old enough, and what goals? a family is the most important goal in life) she retorted, waving her hand in the air as if brushing aside your excuses.

She leaned slightly forward, her gaze fixed on Lando now, as if silently willing him to understand what she was saying. “我走之前要抱着我的曾孫,” (i need to hold my great-grandchild before i go) she reiterated, as though her insistence alone could make it happen.

Lando, who had been smiling politely, began to glance around the table, sensing that the laughter was at his expense but unable to piece together what was being said.

“What’s going on? What did Ah Ma say?” he said, leaning towards you.

Before you could think of a way to downplay it, Nick—ever the troublemaker, grinned wickedly and leaned over. “Oh, I’ll tell you,” he said, just loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Ah Ma’s asking when you’re getting married. She wants great-grandchildren before she dies.”

His jaw dropped slightly at what Nick said, cheeks already tinged pink. “What?” Lando stammered, glancing at you for confrontation.

The laughter just grew louder as Nick continued, “she’s serious too. She’s already planning your family timeline.”

You groaned inwardly, shooting Nick a sharp look that only made him smirk wider. Meanwhile, Lando’s blush deepend, spreading across his ear and down to his neck. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, and lips twitching into an embarrassed smile.

“I…uh…” he stuttered, clearly flustered, and you couldn’t help but smile despite the situation.

You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table, leaning closer to whisper, “don’t worry, she just likes to tease. You’re doing great.”

Your Ah Ma smiled warmly at Lando, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening with the kind of affection reserved for those who had truly earned it. She placed her hands gently on the edge of the table, her gaze shifting between you and him as she began to speak again in Mandarin.

“我愛你這個年輕人,” (i love this young man for you) she said, tone resolute yet tender. “我等不及你們倆結婚的那一天了。 當然，這必須在我死之前發生，但沒有壓力.” (i cannot wait for the day you both get married. of course, this must happen before i die, but no pressure)

The table chuckled softly at her words, though you could feel the weight of her underlying sincerity.

“我希望你們的關係最終會導致婚姻。 它必須，我很高興是他。 我認識��以前約會過的所有男孩，但沒有你介紹他們給我,” (i expect your relationship will lead to marriage in the end. it must, and I’m glad it’s him. i knew all the boys you dated before without you introducing them to me) she continued, tone sharpening lightly as she referred to your past. “他們都不值得。 蘭多是。 他是個好人，是個紳士。 我看得出他讓你多麼高興.” (none of them were worthy. but lando is. he is a good man and a gentleman. i can see how happy he makes you)

Her gaze lingered on Lando, eyes bright with approval. “你選的不錯,” (you chose well) she said firmly, her words almost carrying the weight of a blessing.

You glanced at your mother, who was watching the exchange quietly with a soft smile. When your eyes met, she gave you a small nod, as if to echo your Ah Ma’s sentiments. Your heart swelled, knowing that this was not just about Lando being accepted by your family, it was about him being fully embraced in a way that rarely happened in a family as traditional as yours.

“我們的家庭一直重視傳統的重要性，在我們自己的背景，我們自己的文化中結婚。 這就是讓我們堅強的原因。 但有時，當心髒看到什麼是正確的時，必須做出例外.” (our family has always valued the importance of tradition, of marrying within our own background, our own culture. it is what keeps us strong. but sometimes, exceptions must be made when the heart sees what is right) your Ah Ma’s eyes softened further as she looked at you. “你已經看到了什麼是正確的。 我相信你的選擇。 他會給你帶來快樂，你也會給他帶來同樣的快樂.” (and you have seen what’s right. i trust your choice. he will bring you happiness, and you will bring him the same)

Lando, though unable to follow the Mandarin, seemed to understand the atmosphere and the sentiment. He offered a polite smile, his hand tightening slightly around yours under the table.

“你知道，你是第一個正式向我介紹這樣一個人的人。 這不是一件小事。 它表明了對我們家庭的尊重，它表明你是認真的.” (you know, you are the first to formally introduce someone to me like this. it is no small thing. it shows respect for our family, and it shows me that you are serious) she paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “這就是爲什麼我相信這將工作。 你有我的祝福.” (that is why I trust this will work. you have my blessing)

You felt a lump in your throat as you glanced again at your mother, who was still smiling softly. There was no need for words, her expression said it all. The weight of family approval—especially your Ah Ma’s, was very significant. It was not just about you and Lando anymore, it was about the life you were building together, one that your family wholeheartedly supported.

You turned to Lando and gave him a small smile, and squeezed his hand, a private gesture of reassurance for him. Though he could not understand the exact words, you knew he felt the love and acceptance in the room, just as deeply as you did.

While everyone was now immersed in a new topic of conversation, you can’t help but notice that Rachel was taking longer than usual. Rachel hasn’t gone back yet, the same as your Auntie Eleanor. Just before your Ah Ma would say his monologue about family tradition, your Auntie Eleanor had excused herself.

You glanced at the door Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor had exited through earlier, your eyes narrowed slightly in concern. This was a sprawling estate, one where getting turned around was almost inevitable for someone unfamiliar with its labyrinth of hallways and grand rooms. You couldn’t shake the sense that something was amiss.

Minutes passed. Neither Rachel nor your Auntie Eleanor had returned. Your unease deepened. So you leaned slightly toward Lando, your voice low enough not to disrupt the ongoing chatter around the table.

“I think I’ll go check on Rachel,” you murmured. “She’s taking a little too long, and Auntie Eleanor too.”

Lando nodded, his eyes flickering with slight concern. “You think everything’s okay?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” you replied. “But I’ll find out.”

You leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, the faintest smile touching your lips despite the worry now bubbling beneath the surface. Straightening up, you excused yourself from the table, smoothing down your dress with a quick, practiced motion.

As you step away, the chatter behind you fades, replaced by the muted hum of distant sounds in the house, the faint clatter of dishes being cleared in the kitchen, soft shuffle of footsteps from maids moving about their duties.

You moved quietly, your steps deliberate as you followed the path Rachel had taken earlier. You knew this house like the back of your hand, each twist and turn etched into your memory, but even for you, it was easy to imagine how someone so unfamiliar might lose their way.

Your eyes scanned the hallways as you moved, the ornate decorations and rich furnishings familiar yet suddenly feeling imposing in the quiet. You still could not shake the thought that perhaps your Auntie Eleanor had cornered Rachel somewhere in the house, and the idea made your pace quicken.

The moment you approached the grand staircase, you approached quietly, you heard voices and stopped just short of the landing, hiding yourself out of sight behind the very heavy drapery of a nearby window. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on other people, but your concern for Rachel overpowered the voice of reason.

Peeking through the fabric, you saw them. Your Auntie Eleanor stood on the top step of the staircase, her posture sharp and commanding, while Rachel stood two steps below her, visibly uneasy. The height difference only seemed to amplify the imbalance in their dynamic—your Auntie Eleanor looking every bit like a hawk, and Rachel was the unwitting prey.

“I’m glad I found you,” your Auntie Eleanor began, voice low and calm, but laced with a kind of weight that felt impossible to ignore. “I felt…perhaps I was unfair to you earlier.”

Rachel immediately shook her head, her voice soft but apologetic. “No, no, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to offend you, and I’m really sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t offend me, Rachel,” she said quietly, almost too quietly, as though she were weighing each word before releasing it. “But since we’re already here, I feel it’s only fair to share something with you. Something that I don’t often talk about.”

“Alright,” Rachel said, voice barely above whisper.

“The emerald ring,” she began, lifting her hand slightly to glance at the emerald on her finger, “had been customized by my husband, Philip, because Ah Ma didn’t want to give him the family ring.”

“She…refused?” Rachel was clearly surprised.

Your Auntie Eleanor gave a small, humorless smile, the corner of her lips barely turning upward. “She didn’t think I was worthy of it. Didn’t think I was worthy of Philip.”

At that, you felt your breath catch. This was new information, something you had never heard before. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the two of them, even as guilt tugged at you for listening in.

“Why would she think that?” Rachel’s voice was cautious, tentative.

Your Auntie Eleanor’s expression hardened, though her voice remained calm. “Because I didn’t come from the right family. I didn’t have the proper connections, and I was not what Ah Ma envisioned for his eldest son. To her, I was inadequate. Not a suitable wife for the future head of the family.”

Rachel looked stunned, her hands fidgeting slightly at her sides. “I…I didn’t know.”

“No, of course, you wouldn’t,” she said softly. “It’s not the kind of thing people would discuss so openly, and why would they? It’s already humiliating to admit that you weren’t the first choice.”

Rachel’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out of her mouth.

“I wasn’t even the second choice. You’re Ah Ma wanted someone else entirely, someone from a family with status and wealth that matched ours. But Philip, he chose me.”

From your hiding spot, you could see the faint sheer in your Auntie Eleanor’s eyes, though her expression remained resolute. You felt your stomach tighten. This was far more personal than the surface-level gossip you and your mother often indulge in about your Auntie Eleanor.

Rachel seemed to struggle to find the right response. “I think that’s very brave of you, to have gone through that.”

“Brave?” she echoed, almost as though testing the word on her tongue. “Perhaps, or perhaps I simply had no choice but to endure it. That’s what women like me are expected to do. Endure. Sometimes, there were days when I wondered if I would ever measure up.”

Another pause filled the air, heavy and suffocating. You glanced back toward the hallway that leads to the dining room, where laughter and conversation continued, oblivious to the tension unfolding right outside.

Your Auntie Eleanor looked down at Rachel, her tone softening just slightly. “I don’t say this to make you uncomfortable, Rachel. I say it because you remind me of someone I once was, a young woman trying to find her place in a family with traditions that can feel suffocating at times. But here’s the thing.”

“To belong here,” your Auntie Eleanor said quietly, “you must learn when to bend and when to stand firm, and above all, you must understand that family will always come first before passion, before dreams. It’s not easy, but it’s the way it is.”

Her words lingered in the air, cutting deeper than anything you had expected. You tightened your grip on the drapery, heart thudding in your chest.

“But Rachel,” she said softly, almost gently, as she took a slow step closer to her. “Having been through it all myself, I can tell you this much…you will never be enough.”

The words hung in the air, deceptively gently, yet sharp enough to pierce. Rachel was eviscerated, as your Auntie Eleanor draws back, placid and calm, as if they were talking about the weather. Her hand lightly touched Rachel’s arm, almost a contradictory gesture to the blow she had just delivered.

“We should head back, I wouldn’t want Nick to worry.” your Auntie Eleanor’s tone did not falter, nor did her gaze waver. She slowly began descending the stairs.

You’re still hidden—more like frozen in place. You watched as Rachel’s expression crumbled ever so slightly, her face a mixture of hurt and confusion, though she tried valiantly to hold her composure. You felt a pang in your chest for her, but before you could decide whether to step out, you felt a presence approaching from behind.

You turned your head quickly, startled to see Lando walking towards you. His lips were already parting, likely to ask what you were doing or what was taking you so long, but you reacted instinctively. You brought a finger to your lips in a sharp shushing motion, then darted towards him as quietly as possible, pressing a hand gently over his mouth before he could make a sound.

Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he obeyed your silent command, his wide eyes flickering between you and the staircase. You both froze as the unmistakable sound of your Auntie Eleanor’s heels began clicking rhythmically against the marble floor, growing louder with each step.

Peeking back around the corner just enough, your Auntie Eleanor was already headed your way, her expression calm and composed, never even looking back at Rachel, who remained standing frozen in place.

Without any second thought, you grabbed Lando’s hand firmly and began pulling him back down the hall, away from the grand staircase. His confusion deepened, but he did not resist, allowing you to guide him. You stopped just short of the door, turning to face him, you placed a hand on his chest and pressed a little to keep him from moving any further. Lando tilted his head slightly, silently asking for an explanation, but you shook your head.

“I’ll tell you everything later,” you whispered firmly, voice barely audible. “When we’re home.”

Lando frowned slightly but nodded in understanding, his gaze softening as he squeezed your hand gently. You exhaled, releasing the tension in your shoulders, and took a moment to steady yourself. Lacing your fingers together, you took one more deep breath, and walked back into the dining room with Lando by your side.

You plastered on a casual smile, even as your thoughts raced, determined to keep up the act for now.

Later that evening, you were now back to the safety and comfort of your home. You and Lando were now settled into the bed, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. Lando was lying on his back, one arm tucked under his head, while his other arm rested lightly on your arm. The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his face as you propped yourself up on your elbow, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Okay, here’s the tea,” you began softly, keeping your voice low in the stillness of the room.

Lando turned his head to look at you, his brows knitting slightly. “What’s the tea?”

You hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts, before recounting everything you had overheard between Rachel and your Auntie Eleanor by the grand staircase. You spoke carefully, detailing the conversation, voice growing more serious as you described your Auntie Eleanor’s sharp words, her admission about the family ring, and the way she had undermined Rachel. Lando listened intently, his gaze never leaving yours, expression shifting from concern to quiet disbelief as you continued.

“And then,” you said, voice dropping even lower, “she told Rachel she would never be enough. I just couldn’t believe it, honestly. It was so cruel.”

“That’s awful,” he said firmly. “I can’t imagine how Rachel must’ve felt when she heard that. She must’ve been gutted—no pun intended.”

You chuckled, then suddenly feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. “I wanted to step in, but I didn’t know how without actually making it worse. Then I saw you coming,” you paused, sighing. “I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Lando reached out, taking your hands in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “It’s not your fault,” he said reassuringly. “Your Auntie Eleanor has her own set of issues. But Rachel seems strong, I’m sure she’ll handle it.”

You nodded, though the worry lingered in your chest. “I just hope my whole family can be as welcoming to Rachel as they’ve been to you. She deserves that. Nick deserves that.”

“Your family has been incredible to me,” he said. “Your Ah Ma, your Mom, even your Auntie Alix, they’ve all made me feel like I belong, even though I’m not from the same background—traditionally, as you. That means everything to me. It’s rare to find that kind of acceptance.”

You felt your chest warm at his words. “I’m so happy they’ve accepted you,” you murmured. “It makes me love them even more, knowing they see how amazing you are.”

He chuckled lightly, ears turning red at your compliment. “Well,” Lando said, tone turning playful, “Ah Ma did say she expects a grandchild, so I guess I’m officially part of the family now.”

You laughed softly, then tension from the earlier conversation easing slightly. But as you rested your head against his chest, you whispered, “I just hope Rachel gets that chance too. To feel what we have with my family.”

Lando pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his voice gentle as he said, “she will, it might take time, but your family loves deeply. They’ll come around, and if not, well, Nick and Rachel would always have us. That’s a pretty good start, don’t you think?”

You nodded. “But hey,”

“Hmm?” he hummed, looking at the ceiling aimlessly.

“I was thinking,” you started, “tomorrow’s our last free day before Colin and Araminta’s wedding. I was wondering if it’s okay with you if I spend it with Rachel. I feel like she could use some company, and I’d love to catch up with her one-on-one.”

Lando’s lips curved into a small smile as he nodded. “Of course, love. You don’t need to ask, and I think that’s a great idea.”

“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I don’t want to leave you feeling bored or anything.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, take your time. I can keep myself busy.”

At that, you looked at him with curiosity. “Oh? What’s your plan for the day?”

Lando grinned, “actually, I was thinking of hitting up your Dad for a few rounds of golf. He told me during Ah Ma’s dinner party to let him know anytime I wanted to play, so I figured I’d take him up on that offer.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the thought of Lando and your father on the golf course together. “That sounds perfect. I think he’d love that.”

“It’ll be nice to spend some time with him, and,” he added with a playful grin, “it’ll give me a chance to show him I’ve been practicing my swing.”

You chuckled, “well, don’t let him win too easily, or else he’ll never let you live it down.”

Lando laughed along with you, then leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Go spend the day with Rachel,” he said warmly. “I’ll be fine, and later, you can tell me all about it over dinner.”

“Deal,” you said with a grin.

The warm scent of roasted coffee filled the air as you and Rachel sat across from each other at the small patio table. The sunlight filtered gently through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the table between your cups of coffee. Rachel stirred her latte absentmindedly, her eyes occasionally drifting to the street beyond before meeting yours.

“I’m really glad you agreed to meet with me,” you began, voice steady but soft.

Rachel offered a small smile, though it did not quite reach her eyes. “Of course. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk after everything.”

You took a deep breath, setting your coffee cup down carefully. “I wanted to talk because I owe you an apology. For everything.”

She tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing. But she let you continue speaking.

“I’m sorry for how you were treated at the dinner party by my family,” you continued, gazing at her earnestly. “Especially by my Auntie Eleanor. I know she was cruel, and I won’t make any excuses for her just because she’s family. You didn’t deserve that.”

Rachel let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she leaned back in her chair. “Thank you for saying that, it truly means a lot.”

There was a brief pause before you added, “and I need to come clean about something.”

“I overheard everything Auntie Eleanor said to you by the staircase,” you admitted, glancing down at your hands for a moment before looking back at her. “It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, I swear. I was going to get something from the car, and I happened to pass by.”

She studied you for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Honestly, I’m not even surprised you overheard. She wasn’t exactly trying to whisper.”

You gave a small, rueful smile. “Still, I should have stepped in sooner. I hate that she made you feel the way you did.”

Rachel’s grip on her coffee cup tightened briefly before she let out a small, humorless laugh. “It was pretty intense, I’ve got to say,” she admitted. “I mean, I felt like I was going to cry and puke all at once.”

The two of you exchange a glance before breaking into laughter. The sound was a relief, breaking the lingering tension like the first warm breeze after a storm.

“Well,” you said. “I bet if you tell her that you’d leave Nick for a million of dollars, she’d write that check on the spot.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she burst into laughter again, this time louder and freer. “You think so?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you replied, grinning. “It’s a pretty normal thing to do here. A million-dollar breakup is just another Tuesday.”

Rachel shook her head, still laughing, and took a sip of her latte. “That’s terrible.”

“Maybe it is,” you smiled and shrugged. “But I know my Auntie Eleanor.”

She then set her coffee cup down, fingers fiddling with the edge of her napkin as her expression shifted something akin to serious.

“You know, I just…I don’t even know what to do anymore. Whether I will tell Nick everything or not,” she admitted, voice quieter now. “I can see how much Nick practically worships his Mom. I mean, it’s like she can do no wrong in his eyes.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing her words. “I fully understand that,” you said carefully, tone gently. “It’s common, especially with Chinese sons. They hold their mothers on a very high pedestal, and it’s not just cultural, it’s ingrained, passed down through generations. Mothers are revered, respected almost to a fault.”

Rachel let out a small, defeated sigh, leaning back in her chair. “So what am I supposed to do? Compete with that?”

You shook your head, giving her a smile. “No, you don’t need to compete with anyone. Look, on the bright side of all things, Ah Ma loves you. Did you notice how she complimented you yesterday? That’s pretty big.”

Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought back, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “She did, didn’t she? I was not really sure what to make of it at first, but I guess that was her way of showing approval.”

“Exactly,” you said. “Let Auntie Eleanor stew in her own bitterness if she wants to. She can hate you all day long or even her whole life if that’s what she’s determined to do.”

“That’s…comforting?” she raised an eyebrow, her smile wavering.

“Just let Auntie Eleanor be, she has nothing against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.” you chuckled.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked, intrigued but unsure.

You gestured gently with your hand, voice steady but light. “At the end of the day, it’s not really about Auntie Eleanor. It’s about what Ah Ma thinks, and in this family, her opinion carries the most weight, and she’s already decided that she likes you. Auntie Eleanor might throw tantrums and make her snide comments, but she can’t overturn the foundation of how this family works. What Ah Ma says, goes.”

Rachel sat back, her lips curving into a small, thoughtful smile. “So, you’re saying that I don’t need to fight back? Just let her do her thing?”

You nodded. “Exactly. She’s not the one you’re trying to win over, and frankly, she doesn’t hold the power she thinks she does. As long as Ah Ma’s around and on your side, you’re practically untouchable.”

“You make it sound so simple.” she let out a soft laugh, her tension finally easing.

“It’s not simple,” you admitted with a small shrug, “but it’s the truth. You’re a part of this family now, Rachel—whether they like it or not, and you’ve already got the most important ally you could ask for.”

Rachel’s smile grew warmer, and for the first time, she looked truly at ease. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I needed to hear that.”

The midday sun cast long shadows over the manicured fairways of Sentosa Golf Club. Lando steadied his swing, aiming for the flag ahead. Your father stood a few paces behind, watching his stance with an appraising eye. The gentle rustling of the trees and occasional chirping of birds provided the only background noise. Lando took the shot—clean, low drive that rolled smoothly onto the green.

“Good shot,” your father remarked, nodding in approval as they walked toward the cart together.

“Thank you,” Lando replied, brushing his hands against his shorts.

As they drove to the next hole, your father leaned back slightly, gaze fixed ahead. “So, Lando,” your father began, his tone casual. “What are your plans?”

Lando glanced at him, slightly startled by the abruptness of the question. “Plans, sir? You mean with golf? Or…generally?”

Your father chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, no. Not with golf, I meant your plans for the future. It’s a broad question, I know, but I’m curious.”

He straightened. “Oh, well…I’m focused on my career right now, of course. Racing tends to keep me pretty busy, but I try to balance things as best as I can.”

Your father nodded as they both stepped out of the cart. He let a few moments pass before continuing, voice taking on a more serious tone. “When my wife came back from her mother’s estate last night, she mentioned something to me over dinner.”

Lando tilted his head, curious. “What is it?”

“She said that Ah Ma gave you and my daughter her approval,” your father said, eyes steady on Lando. “Ah Ma hopes your relationship will end in marriage someday.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the statement, or just how straightforward your father is. He shifted his weight slightly, unsure of how to respond to your father.

Your father, noticing his hesitation, offered a small smile. “Don’t worry, Lando. I’m not here to pressure or scare you away. But I thought it might be important for you to understand something about how everything goes on around here.”

“In our culture,” your father explained as he placed the golf ball on the tee, “relationships are viewed differently than in the West. They’re not just about love or companionship, they’re built on sacrifice, duty, and responsibility. When you commit to someone, you’re committing to the entirety of it all—even to the family. It’s a partnership that demands effort and selflessness.”

“Now,” your father took his shot—a smooth, powerful drive that sent the ball soaring down the fairway. He straightened and turned back to Lando, resting the driver on his shoulder. “I’m not saying this to intimidate you. It’s far from it. I know how much my daughter cares for you, and from what I’ve seen, you care for her just as much. But I want to make sure you understand what this means to us—our family and her. It’s not just about dating or having fun. It’s about building a life together.”

Lando swallowed, feeling the weight of your father’s words. “I…I get that, sir. I really do, and I want you to know that I take our relationship seriously. She’s,” he paused, searching for the right words. “She’s the most important person in my life. I may not have everything figured out yet, but I’m fully committed to her. I want to make her happy and support her in every way I can.”

Your father studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s good to hear, Lando. You’re a good man, and that’s all I needed to know.”

Lando exhaled softly, relieved but still thoughtful. Your father clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s see if you can make this shot. I’m one up on you, and I don’t plan on losing today.”

”We’ll see about that, sir.” Lando grinned.

The two of them had just finished their round and were sitting in the shaded patio area of the clubhouse, sipping on cold drinks. Your father leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed.

“You know, back in her teens, she was quite the handful.” your father began, voice carrying an edge of humor.

Lando turned to him, intrigued but slightly nervous. “Oh?”

Your father nodded, a sly smile on his face. “She used to escape the house and date boys behind our backs. Thought she was clever about it too.”

Lando’s lips twitched into a smile, imagining you as a teenager, trying to outsmart your parents. “Really? I can’t imagine her sneaking around like that.”

“Oh, she was good,” your father said, in a playful tone. “She never introduced us to those boys, but we always knew who they were. We made it our business to know. Still, we never made a fuss, we figured she’d grow out of it—and she did.”

He just smiles as your father tells these little snippets of anecdotes of your life that you had never told Lando before. Lando just kept silent, and continued listening to your father.

“So when she introduced you to us, we were shocked to be honest.” your father laughed, a deeper, more genuine sound. “It was the first time she brought someone home. That was our first indication that this was serious, different from anything she’d had before.”

“To tell you the truth,” your father continued, tone shifting to something more reflective. “We always thought she’d end up seriously dating one of the sons from our family’s business partners, since that’s how these things tend to go. But looking at it now, we’re thankful that it’s you.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard. “Thankful? Why’s that?”

Your father leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Because those boys, they have big, fragile egos. Pampered from birth, they’ve never had to work for anything, and never had to learn humility. Trust me, there’s nothing worse than a man who can’t admit his faults.” he looked at Lando meaningfully. “You’re nothing like that, you’ve worked hard for everything you’ve achieved. You respect her, and that means a lot to us.”

“Thank you, sir.” Lando replied as he felt a warmth spread through his chest. “That really means a lot to me.”

Your father nodded, a small but approving smile on his face. “Just don’t let her outplay you on the course of life, Lando. She might be silent and reserved most of the time, but she’s competitive.”

Lando laughed. “Oh, I know. She’s already winning in a lot of ways.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” your father regarded him for a moment, then smiled. “Now, shall we see if they have any dessert worth trying here? Golf always leaves me craving something sweet.”

“Sounds good to me, sir.” Lando chuckled.

The house was still dark when you arrived, a quiet stillness greeting you as you set your things down and flicked on the lights. After slipping into more comfortable clothes—a loose white shirt and soft shorts, you made your way to the kitchen.

You had informed Lando earlier that you had decided it would be steak night, so you tied your back and opened the fridge, pulling out the steak to defrost, then setting them on the counter before gathering ingredients for the side dishes. You peeled and chopped the potatoes, boiling them in a pot of salted water, and then turned your attention to the vegetables.

Then you sliced the carrots, zucchini, and bell peppers—the rhythm of chopping and preparing was soothing, you then drizzled them with olive oil, sprinkled them with salt and pepper, then slid the tray into the oven to roast.

By the time the vegetables were roasting and the potatoes were soft, the steaks were now finally defrosted. You began to season them generously with salt, pepper, and a hint of garlic powder, then heated a cast-iron skillet until it was searing hot. The steaks sizzled as they hit the pan, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma of cooking meat.

While the steaks rested, you drained the potatoes and mashed them with butter, cream, and a touch of garlic. The creamy texture was perfect, and you set the pot aside before arranging everything on the plate.

Tonight, you wanted to dine outside by the pool deck, where the view of the city lights was nothing short of magical. Grabbing a couple stacks of plates and utensils, you stepped out to the deck and set the table. The air was cool, and the glow from the pool lights danced against the walls, creating a cozy ambiance.

Just as you returned to the kitchen to plate the food, you felt an arm wrapped around your waist and a soft kiss pressed to your cheek. Startled, you spun around to see Lando smiling down at you, hair slightly mussed from the day.

“You scared me!” you said with a laugh, leaning up to kiss him on the lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “It smells amazing in here.”

“So, how was your day with Dad?” you asked smiling, brushing a hand over his arm.

“It was good,” he replied. “Tiring, but good. I think I held my own.”

You smiled at that and patted his chest gently. “Go change into something comfortable and grab a bottle of wine from the rack, we’re eating outside by the pool deck.”

“On it,” Lando said with a quick kiss to your temple before heading off to the bedroom.

You carried the plated food out to the pool deck, setting it down on the table. The city lights twinkled in the distance as you adjusted the chairs and smoothed the tablecloth. Lando soon joined you, a bottle of red wine in hand, dressed in a simple shirt and joggers.

“That looks incredible, love.” he said as he set the wine down and pulled out a chair for you.

“Why thank you,” you smiled, settling in on the chair. “Let’s eat.”

As the two of you began eating, the sound of clinking utensils and the occasional splash of water from the pool filled the serene evening air. You cut into your steak and took a bite before glancing at Lando, who was pouring wine into both of your glasses.

“So, as promised,” you began, setting your form down for a moment. “I wanted to tell you about the conversation that I had with Rachel earlier when I met up with her.”

Lando looked up from his glass, giving you his full attention. “Yeah? How did it go by the way, how’s she holding up?”

”She’s trying, but she’s still shaken from what happened with Auntie Eleanor.” you replied. “She told me that she finds it hard to tell Nick everything because Nicky practically worships her Mom, because well, that’s how Chinese sons are—they think their Moms fart Chanel No.5.”

He froze for a moment, processing what you said, and then burst into laughter. Lando set down his wine glass as he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

“That’s such an oddly specific comparison, babe. But honestly,” Lando said through his laughter, “it’s kind of perfect. I admit that at times, I notice that’s how Nick acts around Auntie Eleanor, isn’t it?”

“Yup,” you confirmed as you took another bite of your steam. “Rachel feels like Nick would never fully stand up to his mother and I get why she’s worried. But I explained to her how Auntie Eleanor is basically defenseless against two thousand years of Chinese filial piety.”

“Filial piety?” Lando repeated, brows furrowing slightly.

You took a sip of wine, then set the glass down carefully before explaining. “It’s this concept in Chinese culture that emphasizes respect, obedience, and care for your parents and elders.” you continued, “it’s not just about being polite, it’s deeply rooted in our traditions and values. Sons, in particular, are expected to honor their mothers in every way possible. That’s why it sometimes feels like their Moms can do no wrong.”

Lando nodded slowly, taking in your words. “So it’s more than just a family dynamic—it’s cultural, like a duty?”

“Exactly,” you said with a small smile. “It’s why Rachel feels the way she does, but I told her that she shouldn’t worry too much. Ah Ma has taken a liking on her, and that’s already a gold sign. Auntie Eleanor might act high and mighty, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t really have a say in Ah Ma’s decisions.”

“Basically, you’re saying that Auntie Eleanor has no powers here?” he tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Not over Ah Ma, no. Hell no,” you said, chuckling. “And honestly, I think it’s about time someone stood up to Auntie Eleanor. Rachel is strong, even if she doesn’t always realize it, Nick and her will be fine. It’s just a matter of time she finds her own footing and Nick learning to balance his loyalty to Auntie Eleanor with his commitment to Rachel.”

Lando chuckled softly, raising his wine glass. “Well, here’s to Rachel and Nick figuring it out, and to Ah Ma—who clearly runs the show.”

You clink your wine glass against Lando’s with a grin. “Family is really fucking complicated, but hey, cheers to that.”

When Lando finished the last bite of his steak, he set his fork down with a satisfied sigh. “Speaking of Ah ma,” he began, swirling his wine glass, “you Dad told me something very interesting stuff today.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? What did he say?”

Lando smiled, leaning back in his chair. “He mentioned how he knew that Ah Ma already gave us her blessing and that she’s expecting this relationship to end up in marriage.”

You froze mid-bite, fork hovering above your plate. “Wait,” you said slowly, “did Dad give you the talk?”

His grin widened, and before he could even answer, you groaned and buried your face in your hands. “Oh my fucking god, that’s so embarrassing.” you mumbled, voice muffled.

“It wasn’t bad,” Lando said laughing. “He was just laying it all out on me. Talking about how serious relationships are in your culture and how family values commitment. Honestly, I kind of expected it.”

You peaked through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Still,” you muttered, “he didn’t have to do that.”

Lando leaned forward, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, but that’s not all he told me.”

Your hands dropped from your face, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What else did he say?”

He smirked. “Apparently, back then you had a rebellious streak. Sneaking out to go on dates with different boys, huh?”

You groaned, slumping back in your chair. “Nooo. He did not tell you that.”

“Oh, he did,” Lando teased, clearly enjoying himself. “And he said that they knew exactly who those boys were because they were keeping track.”

Your head dropped to the table with a dramatic thud. “Why does Dad always have the need to air my embarrassing phase like that,” you said, voice muffled against the table.

Lando laughed. “Hey, it’s not that bad,” he reassured you.

Lifting your head, you frowned at him, still mortified. “Okay, but in my defense, I always had a feeling that they knew. Especially dad. I wasn’t exactly completely sure, you know? But now…” you sighed, gesturing at him. “Now I know that they know. Great.”

He reached across the table, fingers brushing against yours. “Is that why none of those boys ever made it past your family’s front door?”

“Yup,” you said, nodding. “Not a single one got far enough to meet my parents, I couldn’t really stand the thought of introducing someone who didn’t actually care about me at all.”

You continued, leaning back in your chair. “Along the way, I realized that they only wanted to be with me because of my family. They saw me as some kind of tool…I guess. Like being with me would give them status, connections, or some kind of benefit.”

Lando’s smile faded slightly, his expression turning serious. “I can imagine how tough it must’ve been.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I just wanted genuine connections, but they just saw me as an opportunity. So, before things got messy, I was always the one who ended it first. That’s why none of them ever got through the door of my parent’s house, or let alone set foot on our estate. They weren’t worth it at all.”

Lando reached across the table, hand covering yours. “Well, for the record, I’m glad your Dad approves of me, and I hope I’ve made it clear that I’m here because of you, not anything else.” he then added, “I do hope that I’ve done a better job at proving I’m not one of those boys.”

You smiled, finger tightening around his. “You’re not even close. You’re nothing like them, Lan. You’ve made it more clear, that’s why you’re here now.”

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the delicate fabric of your gown. The gown was breathtaking, every inch was meticulously crafted by Giambattista Valli himself. The subtle shimmer in the fabric caught the light as you moved, and you smiled, tracing your fingers over the discreet initials that had been embroidered near the hem—a personal touch that made the gown uniquely yours. Lando’s suit complemented you perfectly, a sharp, tailored masterpiece with matching initials of his name on the inner lapel.

Lando adjusted the cuffs on his crisp white dress shirt but fumbled slightly with the cuff links. Noticing his struggle, you stepped in closer, gently taking the cuff links from his hands.

“Here, babe, let me,” you said softly, deftly fastening the sleek gold links.

His eyes met yours, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks, love. You always know how to save me, huh.”

“You’d manage eventually,” you replied with a teasing smile, your fingers lingering for a moment on his wrist. “But we can’t afford to be late.”

Just as you finished, a soft chime from your phone notified you of the arrival of the car. “The car's here,” you said, stepping back to grab your clutch.

Lando picked up his jacket, slipping it on before crossing the room to you. “Ready?” he asked, offering his arm.

“Ready,” you confirmed, taking his arm as he led you to the door.

The car was waiting at the entrance, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. The chauffeur quickly stepped out, opening the door for you, and Lando helped you down the small steps, his hand steady at your back as you navigated the delicate heels you were wearing. He opened the car door, his free hand gently resting on yours as you lowered yourself into the plush interior.

“Careful,” he murmured, making sure you were settled before following after you.

Once he was seated beside you, the car pulled smoothly away, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. You glanced at the matching embroidery on your outfits, a quiet sense of anticipation washing over you as you looked ahead to the day’s events.

The car slowed to a stop in front of the First Methodist Church, the scene outside was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and steady buzz of voices. There was a long line of luxury vehicles stretched down the street, each one spilling out more high-profile guests—foreign dignitaries, government leaders, business tycoons, and a studded lineup of Asia’s brightest stars.

Crowds outside were a sea of media personnel, their cameras aimed and ready to capture every moment of what deemed Singapore’s wedding of the century, akin to Royal Asian Wedding. The chauffeur stepped out and swiftly opened Lando’s door. He exited gracefully, buttoning his tailored suit jacket before turning to offer you a hand. You placed your hand in his, and helped you out of the car.

The moment you fully got out of the car, the flash of the cameras intensified, different photographers yelling questions and calling your names. You paused beside Lando, your arm loosely looped through his, both of you offering calm, poised expressions for the cameras.

“This is a lot,” Lando murmured under his breath, leaning closer so only you could hear.

“Welcome to Singapore’s media circus,” you replied quietly, managing a polite smile as you stood in place for a few more seconds.

The attention was relentless. A few reporters called out to Lando directly, asking for interviews or comments, their voices cutting through the crowd. He shook his head subtly, lifting a hand to politely decline as the two of you turned to make your way towards the church entrance.

You glided across the red carpet, your hand still resting lightly on Lando’s arm. As you approached the grand doors, the tall, ornate arches of the church loomed above, intricate carvings catching the light. The media frenzy continues behind you, but you maintain your composure.

Then, as you entered the threshold, a familiar face came into view, one that is so familiar with you—Francesca Shaw. She stood just off the side, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if assessing everyone in attendance. Her pristine gold dress was undoubtedly designer, her hair styled to perfection.

Your expression shifted instantly, a smile vanishing into a deadpan look. Francesca caught your gaze for a moment, her lips twitching as if she might say something, but your firm expression was enough to make her quickly redirect her attention to something, or rather someone else.

Lando noticed the brief exchange as you both walked past her. “Who’s that?” he asked, voice low but curious.

You glanced at him. “Francesca Shaw,” you replied simply, keeping your tone neutral.

He furrowed his brows. “Should I know who she is? Friend of yours?”

“Fuck no,” you answered quickly. “She was the one that’s responsible for the gutted fish in Rachel’s bed during Minty’s bachelorette party.”

Lando blinked, steps faltering for just a moment. “Wait, that’s her?!”

“Mm-hmm,” you confirmed, leading him further into the church. “Best to steer clear. Nothing good comes from her.”

He nodded, expression tightening slightly as he glanced back toward Francesca. “Noted.”

As you and Lando stepped into the main part of the church, the sheer opulence of the space struck you in awe. The vaulted ceilings were adorned with intricate gold details, and the air was filled with soft strains of a live string quartet stationed discreetly in one corner. Every surface seemed to glisten, whether from the polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, or the hundreds of white orchids cascading over every available surface. It was evident that no expense had been spared—the grandeur practically screamed wealth and power.

Lando’s eyes scanned the space as he whistled low, “this is extravagant.”

You smiled, leaning slightly closer to him as you whispered back, “wait until you see the reception. This is just the warm-up.”

You and Lando moved further into the church, where you caught sight of your family by one of the pews. Your mother stood alongside your Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, their presence commanding attention as they chatted with a group of equally polished society wives. It was a familiar tableau—your aunts all clustered together, forming an impenetrable circle of sharp eyes and even more sharper tongues.

Predictably, your Auntie Eleanor seemed to be critiquing the whole setup. She gestured subtly towards the floral arrangements, her expression a mix of disapproval and thinly veiled judgement. While your Auntie Jacqueline, ever the pragmatist, seemed to be nodding in agreement, and your mother maintained her usual composed smile, occasionally offering diplomatic comments.

You and Lando approached them briefly, exchanging polite greetings. Your mother’s smile softened when she saw you, and she leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“You look very lovely, my darling,” she said, before glancing at Lando and adding, “and the two of you together—perfection, as always!”

After a few moments of pleasantries, you had excused yourselves, knowing the four of them would stick together for the ceremony and be seated in the same pew.

You made your way to the second row, you noted that the first row had been reserved for the Khoos and Lees, with Colin and Araminta’s immediate families already seated. You scanned the room quickly but no sign of Rachel yet, though Nick was near the altar with Colin and the other groomsmen, laughing and chatting. You assumed Rachel must be somewhere nearby.

Upon reaching your seats, you and Lando slid into the second row, settling into the plush velvet cushions. Three rows behind you, your mother and aunts had taken their places, their polished presence unmistakable even without turning around.

You leaned towards Lando, lowering your voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “So, I heard from Auntie Alix,” you began, glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, “that Colin and Minty’s family spent sixty-five million dollars on this wedding.”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly, though he managed to keep his expression neutral. “Sixty-five?” he repeated under his breath.

You nodded, biting back a laugh as you added, “and it made me laugh because I heard Auntie Jacqueline said, ‘we’re Methodists, forty million is our maximum budget for a wedding like this.’”

That was enough to make Lando chuckle softly and shake his head in disbelief. “Forty million is the maximum?” he echoed, tone incredulous but amused.

You grinned, leaning back slightly but keeping your voice low. “Apparently, anything above that is considered excessive—even by our standards.”

Then, you turned around discreetly in your seat to scan the church again, searching for Rachel. It didn’t take long to spot her, she had just arrived and was being greeted warmly by Oliver by the entrance. She moved with a quiet confidence, her luminous presence immediately drawing attention. Heads all turning as she walked past, captivated by the stunning dress she wore—a rich light blue that complimented her complexion perfectly and subtly shimmered in the light.

Your aunts, seated a few rows behind you, were visibly taken aback. Auntie Eleanor, who rarely displays much reaction, looked momentarily stunned, her usual sharp expression softening into one of unguarded surprise. Your Auntie Alix leaned closer to whisper something to her, and Auntie Jacqueline adjusted her posture, almost as if reevaluating Rachel in that moment.

Your mother, however, was all warmth. You could see her beaming brightly at Rachel, her smile filled with genuine approval. You knew immediately what she was thinking, she completely adored the dress and the elegance Rachel exuded.

But something else caught your attention. Rachel glanced towards the pew where your mother and aunts were seated, but she didn’t move towards them. It was obvious she had not been invited to sit with them. Likely, they had made some excuses about how their pew was full, even though you could see there was space.

Rachel hesitated for a brief moment, her eyes scanning the room for an empty seat. Without thinking twice, you raised your hand and waved her over, her eyes lighting up when she saw you, and she made her way towards you. When she reached you, you immediately stood up and pulled her into a warm hug.

“You look absolutely incredible,” you whispered, meaning every word. You stepped back slightly to admire the dress. “That color on you, it’s just so perfect.”

Rachel smiled, her cheeks flushing just slightly. “Thank you,” she replied softly, clearly touched by the compliment.

You gestured to the space beside you. “Come, come. Sit with us,” you said, nodding toward the pew. “There’s plenty of room here.”

She hesitated for only a second before accepting. “Thank you,” she said, voice genuine.

Rachel slid into the pew beside you, and you could feel a subtle sense of relief in her presence as she settled into the seat. Lando leaned over slightly to greet Rachel with a polite nod and warm smile, and exchanged a quick look with him, silently acknowledging how significant this small act of kindness was, especially considering the dynamics at play.

Then, the murmur of the crowd faded into silence as Colin, Nick, and the four other groomsmen made their entrance alongside the pastor. Together, they formed an impeccable picture of elegance and charm, with their perfectly tailored suits catching the soft glow of the church lights. They walked with synchronized strides, confident yet there’s a reverent air about them, like a dashing pack.

Your attention drifted to Rachel, seated beside you, and the way her expression softened when her eyes found Nick. You caught the subtle shift in her demeanor as their gazes locked, a quiet exchange of affection that needed no words. There was something magnetic about the way they looked at each other, as though the entire room fell away for just a brief moment.

A hush of anticipation swept over the congregation as Kina Grannis took the stage by the live string quartet. Her voice rose delicately, the familiar strains of I Can’t Help Falling in Love filled the whole church with a dreamy, romantic air. The melody was sweet and tender, it struck a chord deep within, making the atmosphere impossibly more magical.

Two tiny figures appeared at the entrance—adorable flower girls, their tiny hands clasping wicker baskets as they scattered delicate petals along the aisle. They moved in a choreographed sweetness, bright smiles stealing the hearts of everyone in the room.

Behind them, toddled an equally charming ring bearer, clutching the pillow with seriousness that belied his young age. Each careful step he took earned a quiet chuckle from the crowd, his determination clear as he reached the altar. Nick crouched slightly, taking the ring pillow from the boy, and the playful high-five exchanged between them drew a ripple of soft laughter and smiles.

There was a collective gasp echoing through the church. Water began to flow, a gentle cascade spilling onto the aisle, shimmering as it caught the light. It trickled in perfect harmony, creating a luminous, rippling path that stretched from the entrance to the altar. The sound of water intertwined with the stillness of the music, holding everyone in awe.

The lights dimmed suddenly, and the soft flicker of long delicate stems with glowing tips spread through the crowd like fireflies. One by one, everyone in the congregation reached for the stems and held it aloft, their glittery illumination casting a celestial over the church, all eyes turning towards the entrance.

A group of bridesmaids stood poised, holding beautifully decorated large fronds that veiled what could only be Araminta. Their positioning was precise, deliberate, and graceful. With a choreographed motion, the bridesmaids slowly lifted the fronds, revealing Araminta, standing right next to her father. The moment was breathtaking—she radiated an ethereal elegance that made her appear almost otherworldly.

Araminta held her father’s hand as she gracefully stepped out of her towering heels. The hushed audience barely had a chance to react before she stepped forward, placing her bare feet onto the watery aisle. The music resumed, delicate yet triumphant, as she began her slow, graceful walk.

The bridesmaids followed closely behind her, their steps echoing her elegance, as the congregation swayed their glittery lights in unison. It was a scene out of a dream, a river of light and water that guided Araminta towards her future. From your seat, you could see Colin at the altar, his composed demeanor wavered, expression softening as he took in the sight of Araminta, eyes glistening with unshed tears, emotion written plainly on his face.

You didn’t exactly know what came over you, but as you sat there in the church, watching Colin and Araminta exchange glances filled with love and anticipation, a thought took root inside your mind. The entire wedding, its grandeur, intimacy, and the sense of two people stepping into forever had stirred something within you. It was not a matter of envy or longing for the spectacle itself, but it was the way Colin looked at Araminta—the way she smiled back at him, and the unspoken promise that passed between them.

Perhaps, selfishly, you found yourself imagining that kind of future for yourself. Not just marriage for the sake of it, but a marriage with Lando. The idea settled gently, not as a plan or something to be rushed, but as a hope—a quiet wish for someday. Though it was still too early now, you both were at the top of your careers, still growing individually and as a couple. A year of dating was only the beginning, and there was no need to rush, but the seed of the thought was already there, talking with surprising ease.

It made you genuinely happy to see Colin and Araminta standing at the altar. You had been an observer of their relationship from the beginning, a silent witness to the small and significant moments that had brought them to this day.

Growing up, Colin had been a near-constant presence in your family’s life, a fixture at every gathering and celebration. He was practically an honorary member of your family, and it felt like he belonged there just as much as anyone else. You had seen how Colin pined for Araminta, how he had talked Nick’s ear off about her, recounting every detail of their interactions with the kind of fervor only someone deeply in love could manage. Nick had confided that much to you during your conversations over the years, shaking his head fondly at how his best friend could turn any discussion into one about Araminta.

Your relationship with Nick has always been different from that with your other cousins. Despite the age gap, there was a closeness there that came naturally. Unlike many of your other cousins, who were either too competitive or too caught up in their own bubbles, Nick had always been kind, grounded, and someone you can rely on. Growing up, you often found yourself gravitating towards him, trusting him in ways you could not with the others.

So, seeing Colin—Nick’s best friend, your family’s honorary member, now finally standing with Araminta, the woman he had loved for so long, felt like a full circle of something extraordinary. It made you believe in the kind of love that could weather time and challenges, the kind of love that could one day be yours with Lando.

The reception took place at Gardens by the Bay, where the Botanical Gardens had been transformed into a scene straight out of fairytales. It was utterly breathtaking—every detail meticulously designed to create an almost otherworldly atmosphere. The iconic supertrees stretched overhead, illuminated with soft lights that shimmered in sync with the music. A Chinese big band played softly, filling the air with a nostalgic charm, while fireworks erupted in bursts of vibrant color against the dark night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the festivities.

Colin and Araminta were having their first dance at the center of it all, moving effortlessly in harmony. The wedding party stood loosely circled around them, watching the moment in admiration. You stood close to Lando, his arms loosely draped around your waist, holding you gently but securely. Chest pressed against your back as he swayed with you to the rhythm of the music, a silent echo of the couple’s dance.

Lando leaned in closer, voice low and intimate as he said, “you know, I didn’t really get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look absolutely stunning today, baby.”

His words caught you slightly off guard, but the sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten with warmth. Before you could respond, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, lingering just long enough for his breath to tickle your skin.

“And this dress,” he added, lips brushing against your exposed shoulder now, “it’s beautiful. But it doesn’t even come close to how insanely beautiful you are.”

Your heart raced as Lando shifted, tilting your face gently towards his. His lips captured yours in a kiss, slow and tender, yet filled with a quiet intensity that made the world around you momentarily dissolve. When Lando pulled back, his eyes met yours, a glint of affection and something deeper reflecting in the warm light of the supertrees.

When Colin and Araminta’s first dance came to an end, the band seamlessly transitioned to a lively and upbeat tune. The atmosphere shifted immediately, with laughter bubbling through the crowd, and Araminta, radiant and full of energy, already had an outfit change, began beckoning guests onto the dance floor.

“Come on, come on!” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “The party isn’t going to dance itself!”

You and Lando exchanged a quick glance, a shared look of amusement and anticipation. Without any single hesitation, he took your hand gently, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Let’s go,” he said, tone light and teasing.

“Lan, babe, I don’t really—” you began, hesitating slightly, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“You’re with me,” he assured, grinning reassuringly. “I won’t let you look awkward, I promise.”

The music pulsed through the whole garden, and the dance floor was quickly filling with guests, each one letting loose in the joyful chaos of the celebration, singing along with the band. You had never considered yourself much of a dancer, the thought of dancing always made you self-conscious. Your movements felt stiff and unnatural, and the fear of looking out of place usually kept you from even trying. But with Lando, it was different.

Lando kept a firm but gentle grip on your hand, spinning you lightly to the rhythm of Wo Yao Ni De Ai. His energy was very contagious, movements all natural and easy, and he guided you effortlessly, making sure you felt comfortable.

“Just follow my lead,” he said, voice steady over the music. “And don’t think about it too much.”

You did as he said, allowing yourself to let go of the self-consciousness. You focused on him, and only him—Lando’s playful smile, the way his hands steadied you, the warmth of his presence. Soon, the tension that you’re feeling in your body eased, and you found yourself laughing as you moved to the beat.

“I told you you'd be fine,” Lando said, voice filled with a playful confidence.

“I still think I look very ridiculous,” you replied, laughter spilling out.

“You look amazing,” he countered without missing a beat.

The two of you moved seamlessly among the crowd, completely immersed in the music and the moment. Lando twirled you under his arm, making you laugh again as you stumbled slightly, but his steady hands caught you before you could lose balance.

As the music reached its end, he pulled you in closer. Lando’s movements slowed, the lively rhythm fading into the background as his gaze locked with yours. There was an intensity in his eyes, a soft, unspoken emotion that made you breath catch. Without a word, he leaned in, lips capturing yours in a kiss—gentle, tender, and filled with quiet passion that seemed to echo everything unsaid between you.

When he pulled back, a small smile played on his lips. “See? You’re a natural,” he teased, tone soft and warm.

You just rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The music had picked up again, and without hesitation, you two returned to the rhythm of the night, dancing together with an ease and happiness that made the rest of the world fade away, leaving you and Lando in a little bubble that you made yourself.

As the party went on, you and Lando continued swaying to the rhythm of the music, letting the night carry you in its revelry. The energy of the party was contagious, and you both were determined to make the most of it. The crowd around you was lively, a series of laughter and chatter blending into the music.

Suddenly, someone bumped into you, jostling you slightly. Turning to see who it was, you found yourself face-to-face with Rachel, who was looking very upset, her expression disoriented and distressed as she weaved through the throng of dancing guests.

“Rachel?” you called out, instinctively reaching out to her, your brows furrowing with concern.

Lando gently let go of your hand, his expression mirroring yours. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Rachel, however, did not respond. She seemed lost in her thoughts, her gaze darting around as if trying to find something, or someone. Her pace was erratic and quickened as she moved further into the crowd.

You were about to follow her when a piercing scream cut through the music, causing heads to turn. There was laughter and the unmistakable hum of a crowd gathering, phones were raised in unison, their screens glowing as guests pointed toward something, or someone hidden behind the bushes near the edge of the garden.

Your stomach dropped as you and Lando turned to see what the commotion was about. Emerging from the bushes was half-naked Bernard Tai, his shirt already gone and his pants barely clinging to his hips. His movements were chaotic, clearly drunk, and he pawed at Kitty Pong, who struggled to pull herself away.

Kitty, the girlfriend of your cousin Alistair, looked utterly mortified. Her dress was disheveled, and her face was flushed with shame as she desperately tried to cover herself. Bernard, oblivious to the humiliation that they are now facing and radiating off of Kitty, stumbles toward her again, but she shoves him back.

The crowd wasn’t really helping. Instead of intervening, they just stood there, laughing, and some guests outright pointing and jeering, others filming the entire scene as Kitty managed to pull her dress up and flee from the scene, heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she disappeared into the night.

You felt a mix of shock and disgust twist in your stomach, gaze flicking between the fleeing Kitty and the drunken Bernard, who was now slumped against a nearby table, seemingly unaware, or uncaring, of the chaos he had caused. At Colin and Araminta’s wedding, nonetheless.

Lando shook his head in disbelief. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath.

Though your attention snapped back to Rachel. She had managed to stop briefly during the commotion, her body all stiff and face unreadable as she watched the scene unfold.

“Rachel!” you called again, but by the time you stepped forward, she was already gone, melting into the crowd and disappearing from view.

A few moments later, Nick came running toward you and Lando, face flushed and breathing uneven. “Have you guys seen Rachel?” he asked urgently, eyes scanning the crowd as though hoping she might reappear.

You glanced back toward the direction Rachel had gone, your worry mounting. “She was just here, but—”

“She already left, mate.” Lando finished, voice somber.

Nick looked around frantically, but it was clear he was too late. Rachel was already nowhere to be found, and whatever had just unfolded seemed to mark the abrupt descent of what had been.

As the night wound down, you and Lando decided it was time to call it a day. The events of the wedding had been unforgettable, but the exhaustion was starting to creep in. Knowing that you only had one day left in Singapore before flying to the UK for Christmas, you both set out to find Colin and Araminta to thank them properly.

After weaving through the remaining guests hand in hand, you finally spotted the newlyweds near the dance floor, glowing with happiness as they spoke to family and friends. When you approached, Colin was the first to notice, greeting you and Lando with a wide smile.

“Hey, you two! Having a good time?” Colin asked, tone warm and genuine.

“A very amazing time,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you so much for inviting us. This was truly the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to.”

“Absolutely,” Lando added, nodding. “It was really incredible. Congratulations again to both of you.”

Araminta beamed, her hands resting lightly on Colin’s arm. “Thank you so much for coming. It means the world to us to have you here.”

“Though we wish we could’ve stayed longer,” you said, “but we’re flying back to the UK the day after tomorrow to spend Christmas with Lan’s family.”

Araminta’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s very wonderful! But before you go, we absolutely need a picture together.”

She glanced around and quickly called over a photographer, waving him toward your small group. “We need a picture of the four of us,” she told the photographer with a laugh.

The photographer positioned all of you, and Colin gently placed a hand on Lando’s shoulder while Araminta stood beside you, her arm lightly around your waist. The flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly.

“Wait, wait,” Araminta said after the photographer stepped away. “We need one on your phone too!”

You quickly pulled out your phone, handing it to her so she could take the picture. She directed Colin to pull in a little closer so you could all fit on the frame. This time, the pose was more casual, with everyone leaning in and smiling brightly.

After the pictures were taken, Colin suddenly chimed in. “Oh, by the way, Harrison mentioned the other day that you’re moving to Monaco soon?”

You nodded. “That’s the plan. Everything’s set to go in a few weeks.”

“Then we’ll probably see you in Monaco soon!” Araminta said with a smile. “We’ve got a few trips planned early next year.”

“Definitely! Let us know when you’re coming,” Lando said. “We’ll take you around and catch up.”

“For sure, man! Absolutely.” Colin replied, grinning wide.

You and Lando hugged Colin and Araminta goodbye, exchanging heartfelt well wishes for their honeymoon and married life ahead. As you turned to leave, Araminta gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas!” she said happily.

“Merry Christmas!” you and Lando said in unison before heading off to find your mother.

Your mother was seated at a table, chatting animatedly with your Auntie Eleanor. When she saw you approach, she stood up and pulled you into a warm embrace.

“You two leaving already?” she asked, tone affectionate.

“We are,” you said softly. “But it was such a beautiful wedding. Everything was perfect.”

“I’m so glad you could be home,” she replied, smoothing a hand over your arm. “Have a safe flight to the UK, and please give my regards to Lando’s family.”

“We will,” you promised, hugging her tightly once more before stepping back. “Lando and I will be back for the New Year’s.”

Your mother stretched out her arms to Lando, giving him a hug. “Thank you for everything.”

“Take good care of her, okay?” your mother reminded, as she smiled at Lando kindly.

“Always,” Lando replied with quiet sincerity.

When you and Lando finally walked through the door of your home, a deep sense of relief washed over you both. The quiet was a stark contrast to the chaos of the day, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you finally slipped off your heels by the entryway. Lando stretched his arms over his head, letting a low groan before giving you a small smile.

“Fucking finally,” he said, voice filled with exhaustion but tinged with amusement. “Home sweet home. That was…something, huh.”

You nodded, placing your clutch by the glass table. “Eventful doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

After settling down on the couch, you pulled out your phone and sent Rachel a quick text:

Hey, Rachel. I hope you’re okay. If you need anything or just want to talk, I’m always here for you.

You stared at the screen for a few moments before putting the phone down. There was a lot on your mind, but Rachel’s well-being was at the top of the list right now. Lando was already seated, leaning back against the cushions with his tie undone and his jacket draped over the armrest. He turned to you with a tired grin.

“That’s got to be the most entertaining wedding reception I’ve ever been to. Not wild, exactly, but definitely eventful. I mean—” he gestured vaguely with his hands. “What even was that? Who are those people?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You mean Bernard and Kitty?”

“Yeah.” Lando nodded.

You sighed deeply, not really knowing where to begin or how to start the conversation about Bernard and Kitty. “Bernard Tai is…well, where do I even fucking start with that guy? Let’s see…he’s the only son of Dato’ Tai Toh Lui and Carol Tai, an insanely wealthy family. The Tai Fortune is massive, and Bernad’s basically the heir to all of it. He’s a former classmate of Nick and Colin back in the day.”

“And?” Lando prompted, tilting his head.

“And he’s spoiled as fuck,” you said bluntly. “Like, obnoxiously spoiled. He’s been handed everything his entire life and spends his day burning through money on the most ridiculous shit. He lives for excess and has zero accountability for anything he does. Basically, to sum up all of it—he’s a walking disaster who somehow gets away with everything because of daddy’s money and his family’s influence.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by all of it. “Sounds like he’s a real charmer.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s one way to put it.” you hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And then there’s Ms. Kitty Pong.”

“She’s Alistair’s girlfriend, right?” Lando asked, recalling her name from earlier.

“That’s ex-girlfriend now,” you corrected. “Kitty’s…a real piece of work. She used to be a soap opera star who decided to pivot into climbing the social ladder. She’s been trying, well, desperately, to get into the higher social circles here, but that’s not really going well for her.”

You continued, “most people look down on her because they see her as a gold-digger, and honestly, they’re not really wrong. She's always relying on people like Oliver or Corinna Ko-Tung—Fiona’s cousin, to help her navigate these circles.”

Lando frowned slightly. “And Bernard?”

“Not much better, honestly,” you shrugged. “Yes, he’s a part of our circle, but no one takes him seriously because he’s…well, Bernard. After tonight? Him and Kitty just cemented themselves as gossip fodder for weeks, maybe months. What they pulled tonight at Colin and Minty’s wedding reception is only going to add fuel to the fire. Kitty’s already seen as an outsider, and now, people have an excuse to talk, ridicule, and ostracize her even more.”

He let out a low whistle, leaning his head back against the couch. “That’s rough. But honestly, I don’t get why they thought this, of all nights, was the right time to make a scene.”

You exhaled sharply, the frustration you had been holding back starting to bubble up. “Exactly. Colin and Minty’s wedding was supposed to be their moment. They’ve worked so hard to make it perfect, and then Bernard and Kitty come along and turn it into…that.”

Lando reaches over, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t let them ruin it for you. The wedding was still beautiful, and Colin and Minty looked so happy. That’s what matters, right?”

You nodded slowly, trying to let go of your irritation. “Yeah, you’re right. It's just…makes me mad, you know? They deserved better than that.”

They did,” Lando agreed, voice soft. “But it’s already over now, and you can’t control what other people do. All you can do now is focus on the good parts of the day, and trust me, there were a lot of those.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into him. “Thanks for the reminder. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lando pressed a light kiss to the top of your head. “Always.”

[watermelonlovershigh]

❄ Cold ❄ /concept/

AN: i came up with this idea while shivering in my bed. i just wish i actually had a Harry to cuddle with. :( had it in my drafts for about 2 months and decided i'd post it today. anyways, its short but sweet and i hope you enjoy.

This story contains: pure fluff

{ boyfriendrry - soft!harry - any harry era of your choice }

word count- 344

Harry wakes up cold and you cuddle him back to warmth.

"Mhm, baby. S' cold." Harry murmurs in a drowsy tone. He attempts to snuggle closer to you, despite his half-awake state. Although it is the middle of autumn, a cold front has swept through the region, resulting in significantly lower temperatures overnight. While your home is equipped with heating, you prefer to avoid using it during the night, as it tends to make the bedroom excessively warm. Consequently, you depend on blankets and each other's body heat to stay warm during the cold fall and winter nights.

While trying to find a warmer spot in the bed, Harry accidentally elbows your right boob, causing you to wake up and hiss aloud, "Ouch! Stop moving so much." You didn't catch his earlier statement about feeling cold, which would've explained his excessive movement.

"But m'cold." Harry repeats again, this time slightly louder and more clear, yet with a whiny tone. He is your big, cuddly baby after all.

Realization settles on your lethargic mind, leading to a frown as you ponder how to aid your shivering boyfriend. "Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here, face me and I'll face you and we'll hold each other. We'll keep warm that way."

Following your instructions, he proceeds accordingly, and you mirror his actions. You encircle his shoulders with your arms and intertwine your legs together, while Harry secures his arms around your back. Your faces are in close proximity, as well as all your other body parts. You pull the blankets up to your shoulder blades, allowing your body heat to envelop Harry and keep him nice and warm.

Right before he drifts off to sleep again, Harry places soft kisses on your forehead, nose, and mouth, causing a content smile to spread across your face. You then both succumb to sleep once more, cocooned in each other's embrace, warm breaths caressing each other's skin as your bodies relax and your lips part ever so slightly. There is nothing more comforting than the act of cuddling with your boyfriend on a cold night. Your love for your Harry is undeniable.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

taglist: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg // @harryscherrysugar // @devilsqueen722 // @mema10 // @harryswifee // @jewelaponte // @fruity-harry

My Masterlist Masterpost

[theminecraftbee]

so i've been seeing this occasionally in the tags lately and i thought i'd bring up:

if you want someone to click or reblog your fic link you cannot simply post a link to the fic with either no description or a single sentence of description. if you do not put something beyond a link and a sentence, no one is going to click it.

part of this is basic internet safety (don't click links if you don't know where they're supposed to go), but a large part of this is that you have to catch someone's attention to make them click and leave the page they're on! people, in general, aren't going to click a link that doesn't interest them. you should interest them! so, how do you do that?

put some kind of image above your link in your post. this is BY FAR the most certain way to get reblogs and catch people's eye, but it's also the most time-consuming if you aren't already good at edits or art yourself. moodboards, little edited headers, or gifs can help you here (depending on fandom). art you've made yourself or have permission to use is absolutely the best option here, but it's by far the most time-intensive and difficult. full disclosure: i don't do this! that's because i am absolutely pants as a visual artist, even in the realm of editing or selecting gifsets. but if you have this skill and are sad your fics aren't getting attention on tumblr, this could be a potential answer!

write a summary and some kind of note with the link. there's a slightly cluttered cheat way to do this later in the list, but personally i find that formatting your fic post yourself is the best way to make these posts look good. i normally go fic link (making sure the link embed has the title) - summary of fic beneath that in a blockquote - an author's note about what to expect beneath that summary. however, everyone has different standards for how to do this! some people i know like to make sure tags and rating are present; some do not. some put some of this information beneath a cut; some do not. the main key here is to make sure there's just enough information above the cut in the main post that if i, a stranger, am browsing the tag and find your fic, i have enough information to know if it's something i might be interested in! i can always click to see the ao3 tags if i am intrigued, so it doesn't need to be all the information. just enough to catch my eye!

just post the whole fic to tumblr, including a link at the top or bottom. this is the most efficient non-art way to get notes on a fic you post, since, unlike a link with a description, a tumblr user doesn't have to leave the website to read and decide if they're interested or like it enough to reblog. however, there are two downsides. the first is that the fic almost always has to be short (~2k words if you use a cut, less if you don't), since most tumblr users aren't using the website expecting to read a bunch. the second is that doing this will mean most of your fic's readers likely will read it from tumblr, rather than following the fic to ao3. which, you may not care! i certainly don't when it comes to the ficlets i write directly to tumblr. however, it means i really don't recommend doing this with a multichapter fic.

use ao3's share button to automatically make a tumblr post. fics on ao3 have a "share" button, located above the tags and summary. this has a tumblr option, which you can then use to automatically post the fic link to tumblr. this is a bit cluttered since it includes all of the tags from the fic, alongside the full summary, rating, wordcount, etc. personally, i would then edit a little to remove some of that information so that it's more eyecatching and less overwhelming, but if you don't want to, that's also fine! that is still almost always going to be better than posting the link by itself with a single sentence to describe it, and isn't half-bad formatting-wise.

finally, you'll note my posts for ongoing chapters aren't normally given this treatment or fandom tags (although i almost always include a summary of some kind on them). this is because i generally don't want people finding my fic for the first time from a random chapter in the middle. i don't mind if they do, but i'm not going to spam the tag and i'm not going to make THAT much of an effort to make the post appealing. new chapters are things that might tell one of my followers that there's an ongoing fic they should look out for, and tell my current readers and followers that there's, well, a new chapter, but generally they aren't going to hook people. however, if you post chapters a lot more infrequently than i do, or if you simply have the energy to, there's nothing stopping you from applying these to chapter posts as well!

the thing is: look, at the end of the day, i agree with people who say you should write for yourself. how many notes you get isn't a big deal, i promise; the most important feeling is, ultimately, the feeling you get when you finish something and know you made it with your own hands. some of my favorite writing achievements are NOT my most popular, but are my favorites for reasons entirely unrelated to popularity. however, i see a lot of writers bemoaning how badly their fic posts do, when their fic posts are the ao3 embed and a single sentence that reads "this is my new fic enjoy"; the thing is, there are things you can do to make that link into something that someone is more likely to read and/or reblog! (i know i personally don't like reblogging links if i don't know their contents for the aforementioned internet safety reasons.)

just because you write for yourself doesn't mean that you can't give yourself a little leg up in finding your audience. it's worth it both for yourself and your readers, i promise.

[z-moves]

€1,982 / €35K

to Aya: i received your ask, but i can't reply to it due to a Tumblr malfunction. i have decided to reblog a post from you instead.

tags for reach (please let me know if you don't want to get tagged):

@heritageposts @feluka @timetravellingkitty @rhubarbspring @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @tortiefrancis @toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @watermotif @mavigator @lacecap @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq

URGENT APPEAL! HELP ME SAVE MY FAMILY FROM THE HORRORS OF WAR

Hello everyone,

My name is Aya, and I’m reaching out from Gaza. I am addressing you after a complete year of a devastating war that left disastrous impacts on our lives. I led a good life along with my family that was once happy, but things took an ugly turn since war eruption. Despite difficulties, we managed to cope somehow. Yet, it has been a complete year of fear, anxiety and lack of certainty, and this isn't ending anytime soon. For this reason, we have decided to evacuate Gaza and start over in a new place. I love my hometown. I certainly do, but the survival of my family is at stake! I am appealing to you to help me save my family by raising the necessary funds to safely evacuate Gaza. You are kindly invited to read my story as I try to explain in simple words unexplainable feelings of misery, desperation and bitterness.

Sweet home, no more

At first, we were forced to leave the comfort of our house in order to seek refuge in a safer place. Well, it turned out that there's no thing such as a safe place in Gaza and, sadly, our sweet home was damaged. To a small family, like us, home means everything. It means safety, comfort and love, but no more!

A complete turnaround

A complete turnaround

Before war, we enjoyed a comfortable life. Our house was fully equipped with the latest gadgets. Everything we needed was just a click away. Yet, we have gone through a complete turnaround. Since the beginning of the war a year ago, we had no power supply, no water, and no cooking gas! We are literary a century back in time. We use wood for cooking and heating, stand in lines for water supply and manually move water from very far places.

Aya

It's me. I loved cooking, graphic design and reading. Yet, all of this sounds now like a distant memory. The war has effectively killed my passions, as all I am thinking about in the meantime is the safety and survival of my family. I worked as a content creator, studied to be a professional graphic designer and had big dreams, but sadly they are all gone!

Dad

My father, Ayman, worked as a respected computer engineer at a big tech company. He loved his work, but sadly, he doesn't work anymore as the company stopped operating in Gaza. My father suffers from high blood pressure, and I am seriously worried about his safety and health, considering the shortage in medications and healthcare services in the war-torn Gaza. My father is also occupied by our safety and survival which increases his illness. Being responsible for a family of five members isn't a small feet in normal conditions, not to mention in wartime.

Mom

My mom, Eman, is my sweetheart. Despite the challenges, she took care of us every single day for over a year of displacement. Regardless of the challenges, she kept on supporting us without complaining. However, I am increasingly worried that she might collapse under this unbearable pressure.

Granny

My 85-year old granny is the most vulnerable person in our family. she is chronically sick, and the lack of medications and healthcare only makes her condition even worse! My granny, who barely walks, is displaced over and over again and is forced to move dozens of kilometers every time we get displaced.

Ahmad

My brother, Ahmad, worked at a big tech company and was preparing to get married. He had a promising future and a great career ahead, but all of his dreams have vanished in the dust of war. He lost his job. I am really worried about his safety as he is growingly depressant!

The line between safety and peril

To safely evacuate Gaza, we need to travel through Rafah border crossing, which increasingly represents the line between safety and peril. However, we are asked to pay a huge sum (7,000 USD per person) which we cannot afford, as the war has drained our savings. That's why I decided to turn to you for help. Please, save our lives. Your donation, no matter how small, can decide our safety.

[notapradagurl7]

Frosted Whispers.

Black Fem! Reader x Terry RichmondBillonaire! & Kelvin Harrison Jr.Billonaire!

Word Count: 3544k 😭

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, mention of burnout, praise, mention of favoritism, profanity, mention of wealth and power, fluff, soft Kelvin, soft Terry, voyeurism, toxic smut, confession, fingering, oral(male & female receiving) slight degradation, dominant duo, teasing, PWP, consensual for all parties, Kelvin and Terry are bosses but spoil the reader, unprotected sex.(wear protection)

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @life-in-the-slut-house @liatreads @sweettea-and-honeybutter @ovohanna24 @henneseyhoe @euphorichappiness10 @mightbeher @miguelspvssy @simplyzeeka @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @planetblaque @blackmoonchilee @slutsareteacherstoo @writingsbytee @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @sageispunk @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone @keyera-jackson @amplifiedmoan @avoidthings

A/N: Happy holidays! I've been seeing these two on my timeline so much that I decided to write about these two cuties, here is a cozy, nasty Christmas gift from me to you! Enjoy! 🎄🤶 Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, feel free to ask for a request! ❤️

Summary: You were sent to a cozy cabin Christmas retreat in the secluded Rocky Mountains picked by two of your wealthy bosses Terry and Kelvin, for a much-needed break from the hustle and bustle of your corporate lives.

————

Ding. The notification you've been waiting for since September, you grabbed your phone from the dresser and your eyes scanned the text message from Mr. Richmond or Terry as you would call him outside of the workplace.

Terry.

We are on our way to pick you up, don't forget to wear a coat since it's gonna be snowing out there.

Your phone buzzed again, you giggled at Kelvin text in the group chat called “It's Work, right?”

Kelvin.🤣💞

Don't forget to be out of that house by the time we pull up🙄

You.

You ain't my daddy Kelvin,🙄🤣

Terry.😌💞

Kel, you play too damn much.

You grinned like a Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland, laughing at the messages, unlocking your phone and quickly sending a text back to the attractive man who was also your boss.

You.

Okay, can't wait to see both of you! I'll be waiting impatiently 🤣

Dressed in a warm toffee-colored turtleneck sweater and black pants, matching boots, and socks adorned your feet. Your brown box braids hung to your elbows, a beanie atop your pretty head.

Full of zeal you were for a much-needed break from work, luckily you chose to work from home. It was a private cozy cabin in the Rocky Mountains with your bosses Terry and Kelvin.

You worked diligently and consistently in a successful corporate business which was an LLC, owned by Terry’s father and Kelvin’s father through inheritance, which some would call a clear, cold case of nepotism. Turns out their fathers were the best of friends.

Some would call it a white boys club at that, but it wasn't at all, it was black-owned by two black men with black business workers there. It was certified for sure.

Let’s not forget that you worked for two very handsome men, but on the outside, they were strict yet fair to their employees. Knowing when to not take shit from anyone and ready to fire the ones who were douchebags, or being inappropriate to co-workers. Prematurely erased from the planet, and unable to find another job.

The men made sure to get tested and sent you the papers to prove it that they were both clean, you did the same and let them know that you were on the pill. You were glad they did it without complaining, they wanted to be honest with you.

Other co-workers accused Terry and Kelvin of favoritism, which only involved you since you were an assistant to them both, you didn't make excuses, and you arrived at work on time, and worked nights and days.

You earned an amazing amount of pay that allowed you to get in a great house in a safe neighborhood, and books you wanted to read, places you wanted to go. It was a dream come true.

Obviously, you didn't give a damn what other people said or thought of you. You knew that you worked hard to get where you needed to be, you didn't need to prove it to anyone.

Looking in the full-length mirror, making sure you look good for you self. You sure did as always.

“Damn, I look fine as hell and I'm nervous,” you mumbled.

You caught the sound of a horn honking cutting through your thoughts, you kissed your teeth and grabbed your pink duffle bag.

Hurried your way out of your house, turned on your alarm and locked the front door with quickness.

Kelvin leaned against the luxurious black truck with a sinful grin on his face, while Terry sat behind the wheel. Leaning in the seat as his eyes flicker toward you, chuckling at your almost lateness.

“Hurry your ass up, girl! The snow is probably melting by now!” Kelvin hollered with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully at them, as your movement was fast anyway, you've never been to the Rocky Mountains before, so seen that much snow.

This was your first taste of cabin living, the crisp snow crunched underneath your shoes and greeted you with the holiday season.

Normally, bosses and their employees weren't at good terms but it was different between you, Terry, and Kelvin. When they wanted to go to dinner, you agreed.

At first, it was about the benefits that came with being friends with Terry and Kelvin, but they turned out to be such sweethearts, normally some men wouldn't understand or try to get with co-workers but this was different.

“I’m coming, damn!” You yelled back, slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder.

Kelvin held out his hand like the gentleman he was, you passed your duffle bag to him. “What a perfect gentleman, thank you,” you replied, in a royalty-like tone.

He nodded and opened the door for you, in the backseat. “You’re welcome, after you, my lady,” he replied back, his tone in royalty-like.

You chuckled lightly, “Y’all are too much,” you said, shaking your head as you slid into the backseat.

The car was warm with the heat blowing at the right temperature, a stark contrast to the brisk winter air outside. Terry glanced back at you through the rearview mirror, his playful smirk softening into something more tender.

“You’re gonna love it up there, just you wait,” Terry chimed in, his voice smooth as melted chocolate.

“I’m sure I will, as long as you two don’t start acting like children,” you teased, leaning back comfortably against the plush leather seats.

Kelvin turned slightly in his seat, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who, us? Never. We’re perfect angels,” he said, feigning innocence. But you knew better.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” you retorted, crossing your arms playfully.

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “You know you love it. Besides, you’re the one who’s been working your ass off. You deserve this break.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d come with a side of y’all acting like complete goofballs,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

The car came to a stop in the clear driveway, before you can reach for the door handle, Terry opened the door for and stepped out. Thanking him with a warm tone and you passed your bag to Kelvin, while you smiled at him.

The cabin was nestled at the base of a mountain, surrounded by the whispering pines dusted in white. The moment you stepped out, the air felt crisp and fresh, invigorating.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathed, taking in the stunning view.

Terry stepped out beside you, his tall frame casting a long shadow. “Welcome to our little winter wonderland,” he coaxed, a proud grin spreading across his face.

Kelvin joined you, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, his playful demeanor shifting slightly, as if he was soaking in the serenity. “And we’ve got all the comforts of home. Hot cocoa, a fireplace, and—” he paused dramatically, “—a fully stocked kitchen.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I might just make you both work.”

“Now, that’s the spirit!” Kelvin laughed, nudging you playfully. “But only if you promise not to burn anything.”

“Ha! Very funny,” you shot back. “I’m not that bad.”

Terry leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We’ll see about that. Just remember, if you burn something, you’re on dish duty.”

You laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet woods. As the three of you made your way to the cabin, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped you. Kelvin unlocked the door and nudged it, You walked in first while Kelvin and Terry followed behind you.

Inside, the cabin was just as cozy as you imagined, the fireplace crackling and casting flickering shadows on the walls. It was breathtaking, biting down on your lip.

“Let me show you to your room,” Kelvin chimed in, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. “We want you to feel at home here.”

You followed him down a short hallway, feeling your pulse quicken slightly as he opened the door to a beautifully decorated room.

“Wow, this is amazing,” you exclaimed, stepping inside. The space was adorned with plush blankets and twinkling fairy lights, presents on the bed with your name on them.

“All for you,” Kelvin exclaimed, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze steady. “We wanted you to feel special.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You guys really didn’t have to do all this,” you said, turning to him.

“Of course we did,” Terry chimed in from behind you. “You work harder than anyone I know. You deserve it.”

You felt like a queen in a storybook, soon to be courted by two kings who wanted to give you the world that was created by only them.

You turned to him, finding his gaze sincere and deep, something settling in your chest. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”

“Good, now go get settled. We’ll be right out here,” Kelvin added, his voice dipped low, almost intimate.

As you closed the door, you took a deep breath, feeling the excitement and tension swirl in the air. You felt like you were on the edge of something new, something thrilling. You took off your coat and beanie, throw it in the dresser, take off your shoes and slide on some slippers.

After unpacking, you joined them in the living room, where they were both lounging on the couch watching a movie from the 2000s, a bottle of wine and glasses waiting on the coffee table.

“Join us?” Terry asked, his dark eyes inviting.

“Absolutely,” you smiled, taking a seat between them, feeling the warmth radiate from their bodies. Grabbing a champagne glass from Terry.

“You know, we’ve been talking,” Kelvin began, his voice a low rumble.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh really? What’s this about?”

Terry leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends. It’s about time we show you how much we value you.”

“Let me guess, it's time for me to unwrap my gifts in my room.” you teased, giggling a bit.

Terry darkly chuckled with a smirk, watching you sip from your glass. You sat in between them on the couch. Patiently waiting for what they had to say to you. “You can say that,”

“We have mustered up the courage to tell you that we both have feelings for you, if you don't feel the same way then we completely understand,” Kelvin confessed with gentleness in his time.

Obviously you liked both of them, could you be with them both without a scandal? You would have to quit your job or would they fire you? They wouldn't, A throuple would be the appropriate label.

You shook your head trying to brush off those thoughts away and enjoy this moment with them.

“I don't want to choose, I rather have both of you, Terry and Kelvin, you've been on my mind for quite some time now, but I want to keep it on the low at work, I need my job,” you confessed.

Terry and Aaron exchanged looks before nodding, “Understandable but if this ever goes out then we will protect you,” he said in a reassuring tone.

“Have you been naughty or nice this year beautiful?” Terry chimed in, his eyes roaming your body.

A smile etched on your face, placing your hand on the nape of his neck, “I think I have been good this year,”

“Can I get a kiss from my girl?”

“Your girl? You mean our girl right?”

After that, Terry kissed your lips deeply, while Kelvin slid off your sweater, he began to take off his tee shirt. Unhooking your bra and throw it across the room, your breasts poked out swiftly, he kissed your cheek as you broke the kiss with Terry, causing the male’s face to twist up.

A sinful smirk etched on Kelvin’s face, “What? You could get all the damn attention from our girl?”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Terry asked him.

Terry slides off his sweater, unbuckling his belt and freed his dick with your hand grabbed it gently eliciting a grunt from him.

“Would you like a taste?” Terry coaxed darkly.

“Can I eat you out while you're sucking him off?” Kelvin asked, kissing your neck and sucking your skin to leave a hickey.

“Yes, please,” You replied with a seductive tone, kissing his lips twice.

You took him eagerly in your mouth, using your hand to stroke him from what you couldn't fit in your mouth, sucking him off and Kelvin took off his clothes. Rubbing your breast and pinching your nipple, “Kel…mhm..” you moaned again.

With your consent, Kelvin gently slid your purple panties from your ankles, grabbing underneath your knees and resting them on his shoulders. His lips kissing your clit sweetly eliciting muffled moans from you. You sent vibrations on Terry’s thick length, bopping your head while Kelvin’s fingers slid between your wet folds. “So fucking wet, this shit is turning you on?” he asked.

“Suck that shit baby, you're doing so well for me,” Terry groaned, pushing his hips into the warmth of your mouth. Closing his eyes to relish in every moment.

That only made Kelvin work harder with his mouth, his tongue tracing shapes on your throbbing clit and thrusting his fingers in and out of you skillfully, your essence spurting out on his wrist and moaning onto Terry’s dick. “You taste so fucking good,” Kelvin moaned onto your pussy.

On the verge of a climax, you and Terry felt the knot untighten, his warm jets of cum poured onto your tounge causing you to swallow every bit of him, pulling his dick out. “You did an amazing job,” Terry praised, You moaned loudly at Kelvin still eating you out.

Your hips rolled against his mouth, your head fell back onto the armrest. Your essence poured onto Kelvin’s mouth, swallowing every drop of you. Hand resting on the nape of his neck, “Just like that, you're both are so good to me,” you babbled softly, hearing a slurping noise from him.

Kelvin moved his head away and looked up at you with a smirk, “You deserve the better, my love,” he cooed, cupped your face and kissed you passionately yet deeply, your tongue slipped in with his. Pulling away with a soft smack.

“My turn,” Kelvin playful sang before kissing your lips sweetly.

Kelvin lifted you effortlessly and sat comfortably on the couch, your hand resting on his shoulders with his hands gripping your hips. Sliding you onto his dick gradually and filling you completely. “Damn, I'm buying an engagement ring next time,”

Your mouth parted wide, pulling him close in a tight bear hug, you kissed him sloppily, “Strange way to propose..yess,” you cried out, his hips moved yours, creating a slapping sound similar to a gunshot.

“Oh fuckkk! Kelvin!” You cried out, eyes rolling back. Hips rolling against him as your body shook with pleasure. Kelvin watched your essence pooled around his dick, he groaned out your name like a seductive song, watching you fall apart after every stroke.

He laid you down on your back and you grabbed the couch armrest for dear life, fucking you like he had something to prove, he rutted into you and Terry watched with a smirk, your reactions to Kelvin’s thrusts turned him on. “Oh yes! Shit!” you cried again, nails scratched his back eliciting a hiss from him.

Terry’s lush lips took your nipple in his mouth with genuine care, your hand rested on the nape of his neck. Your hips rolled against Kelvin’s thick dick, screaming out their names to the mountains.“T-Terry…Kelvin..baby, you make me feel so gooddddd,” you babbled, tears falling down your cheeks.

Terry’s finger rubbed your clit in circles, and you whimpered his name again. “Damn, you’re so perfect,” Kelvin groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he thrust into you deeper, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Such possessive men they were, your attention and your love were their oxygen. Couldn't live without it.

Terry looked up from your breast, his dark eyes glinting with pride. “You’re taking him so well, baby. You’re such a good girl,” he praised, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yes, I’m trying baby,” you stuttered out, trying to keep your composure as both men lavished you with attention.

Kelvin leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You feel so damn good wrapped around me. I could stay here forever,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Me too,” you breathed, losing yourself in the moment as you rocked your hips against his, feeling his length hit the perfect spot inside you. “Please don’t stop.”

“Never,” he replied, picking up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic. You could feel the tension building within you, the knot tightening in your belly as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Terry’s mouth moved from your nipple to your ear and cupped your breast, his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you. “Let go for us, baby. We’re right here,” he murmured, his fingers still working expertly on your clit, teasing and coaxing you towards your release.

With a few more thrusts and Terry’s skilled fingers, you felt the world around you blur. You cried out as the pleasure peaked, your body trembling as you came undone. “I’m cumming!” you screamed, your nails digging into Kelvin’s shoulders as the waves of ecstasy washed over you.

“That’s it, baby girl. Let it all out,” Kelvin urged, his own release following closely as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his cum completely.

Terry’s fingers continued to work on your clit, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure until you were panting, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm. “Terry…please, Kelvin!” you cried out.

As Kelvin collapsed beside you, still catching his breath, Terry leaned over to kiss you softly, his lips brushing against yours tenderly. “You did so amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without both of you,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you glanced between the two of them.

Kelvin chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, feeling a sense of belonging and happiness you hadn’t experienced before.

“Next time, we should try the hot tub outside,” Kelvin suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Only if you promise to keep the hot cocoa flowing,” you teased back, feeling the playful banter return.

“Deal,” Terry chimed in, his arm tightening around you, making you feel safe and cherished.

“A hot bath for our favorite girl?” Kelvin asked with a grin, picking up you in his arms, and carrying you to the bathroom. You nodded weakly.

“Make sure it's on the right temperature, nigga.” Terry shouted out, rolling his eyes. They pulled up their pants and followed behind Kelvin. Cleaning up the place immediately.

The white marble curved bath tub was filled with heat and soapy foam, you sighed in bliss. Terry passed your favorite book with a bookmark in between and kissed your forehead, “Enjoy, Empress,” he said before closing the door.

You freshened up, dried off, and applied lotion. You wore a loose t-shirt and leggings. you sauntered back into the clean living area, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

As you entered, you found Terry and Kelvin lounging comfortably on the couch, both looking up at you with amused expressions.

"Look who decided to grace us with her presence," Terry teased, a playful smirk on his face.

"Had to make sure I was all clean and cute for my two favorite bosses," you replied, winking at them as you sank onto the couch beside Kelvin.

"Cute is an understatement," Kelvin remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of desire. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thanks, I appreciate it,” You smiled, sitting in between them.

For the rest of the night, you cuddled close to them with warm blankets and classic Christmas movies, and hot cocoa. Treated like the queen that are you.

[to6ge]

—THINGS THEY DO ON YOUR PERIOD !

౨ৎ batboys x f!reader ( seperated , excl Bruce ) ౨ৎ wc . 454 ౨ৎ cw . non proofread, none. ౨ৎ gwen's note . its 2:57 am but I feel motivated to write so I decided to do a quick drabble ^^ also so sorry to the tim stans I didn't really know what to write for him...

Richard knows quite a lot about periods since he had a lot of experience with women. He would constantly check up on you and ask you if you needed anything. He’s very reliable. You could ask him to run to the nearest convenience store to buy you some pads, and just like that— he's returning with the pads AND ice cream, chocolate or anything that he knows you crave for frequently. He is also very persistent for you to drink painkillers or medicine if you have cramps.

He would always be there when you need him, and always willing to do anything.

Poor baby is quite confused— but Jason's trying. He tries his best not to get frustrated with you when you start complaining about something, or being overly dramatic. ( however, in some cases, he thinks that you're cute when you complain, whine or overreact. ). If you asked him to buy you pads, he would probably buy the wrong size, but he tries his best. He lowkey feels extremely guilty if he did something to upset you by the slightest bit when you're in the time of your month. Whenever he sees you in pain— he completely crumbles. He doesn't know what to do, or what to say. So he just rushes you to a couch, bed, anywhere you could rest in and forces you to drink medicine.

Not only that, but he forces you to rest until you feel okay. Even if you still need to cook for dinner, or anything like that. 

You didn’t even need to ask for anything. Tim noticed the signs before you did—the way you craved certain snacks, the slight change in your mood, the way you held your stomach. Discreetly, he stocked up on pads, your favorite snacks, and anything else he thought you might need, even grabbing a heating pad just in case.

When you told him, “I’m on my period,” his face would light up immediately. With the proudest smile, he handed you a bag of everything he prepared previously. “Here, I bought these for you.”

If Jason was confused, then Damian was absolutely clueless. He’s the type of person who completely forgot that women have period. Unfortunately, he’s very unreliable but he tries. If it was the first time you had your period in your relationship with him, he’d be all over the place. “What's your..uh……size?” He’d text you when you asked him to buy pads for you. He’s worried, but he doesn't know how to express it properly. But eventually, he started remembering the things you wanted— like the snacks you frequently asked for, the sizes you wanted according to the days, whether you wanted the pads with wings or not. 

reblogs and likes are appreciated. thank u luvlies for reading ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[soleilpinto]

DRS = Defining Relationship Status?: Oversteering into Love (Live) °‧🫐𐙚⭒

“Defining Relationship Status Zone” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Synopsis: Motorsport fan and model, Y/n, and her thirst-filled tweets about Franco catch his attention, sparking a hilarious online banter that goes viral. As their playful exchanges become real connections, fans and media can’t get enough—will their chemistry survive offline?

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Slowburn, (Slight) Angst

AU: Social Media AU!

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Thirsty ahh reader (again), swearing, unserious jokes and unserious behavior, inaccuracies bc lets face it, even if you are an F1 you still get things wrong (😭)

Note: I did NOT expect the amount of support this would get when it’s still my first au, thank you guys so much, it means the world to me! as always don’t forget to like + reblog!

DRS Masterlist. (PREV. / NEXT.)

liked by gabyprentice_, littlefoxhermes and others.

ynbardot parents got confused and chose night out daughter

littlefoxhermes come see me soon babyy

— ynbardot counting on it!

francolapinto so pretty ey?

— francopinto ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

It was a boring day, so you decided to turn on Instagram live as a way to talk to some of your followers and show them where you got your jewelry from.

“This cute name plate, I got it from one of my friends when I went to Manhattan for my birthday. It was sweet of her to get me this,” You show off your pendant as your followers start asking about more of your pieces, until the comments started flooding with mentions of Franco.

“Guys, what? Franco is in here? Stop joking around, I’ll literally cry,” You say jokingly, but your laugh was cut short when Franco actually did put a comment in. “Oh, well. This is awkward, hi Franco~” You say flirtatiously, which only earned you a blushing and wink emoji in return.

The comments were going insane as you and Franco start having a back and forth exchange of flirting and banter, yet everyone couldn’t help but think, why was Franco on this live? Was he stalking you and he just so happened to stumble into your live at the right time?

@fc4333 guys we’re finally getting the williams and y/n crossover we’ve been begging for 😭🙏

@colapintoes WILLIAMS PLS GIVE US THE CONTENT WE’VE BEEN BEGGING FOR

@racerbardot franco and y/n, the duo no one expected but got anyways and now we’re getting the crossover we’ve always wanted

@ynargentina not to mention franco accidentally joining her live 😭 poor guy was probably stalking her and ended up clicking her story

liked by ynbardot, jackdoohan and 832,554 others

francolapinto mix de un finde muy feliz 💫

williamsracing 🧉

ynbardot franco posts anything, and suddenly i’m an expert in appreciating the finer things in life

— felizpinto I’M CRYING

— ynbardot PLEASE LEAVE ME BE

liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and others.

ynbardot singapore bound

flavy.barla safe travels baby 🤍

lilymhe see you soon!

© soleilpinto 24’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 44

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,025ish

Summary: The hotel room gets attacked. Logan decides that just saying something is no longer enough.

Warning(s): canon violence, injuries, illusions to sex

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You made sure that Laura and Charles were busy with the movie before you slipped back into the bathroom. Studying the area, you finally noticed the many empty bottles of alcohol. Walking around, you noticed a hand towel that had been tossed in the corner. You lifted it up and gasped at the sight of blood. Your knees gave out beneath you as it hit you. You didn’t have much longer with Logan. You were going to lose him for good and you were no where near prepared for it. 

You failed to realize that the door opened behind you as your sobs took over. Laura quietly came in and knelt beside you. Her hand reached out to your hands, which were now in flames and burning the towel. 

“Laura,” you gasped, noticing the girl. She pointed to the flames. “Oh!” You killed the flames. You looked over at Laura. “I’m sorry you—uff!” 

Laura launched herself at you, hugging you tightly. You dropped the burnt towel and hugged her back. You felt terrible that this little traumatized girl was comforting you. You should be the one comforting her.

“I’m okay,” you told her. “I’m okay.”

There was no doubt that Laura was Logan’s child. Especially when she was constantly worried or connected to you. Somehow she got Logan’s attachment to you.

You pulled away from the girl, who was still looking at you with great concern. “Why don’t we see if there’s a game to play or another movie to watch?”

Laura nodded so you took her hand and the two of you headed back to Charles.

~~~

Logan had been gone for about an hour at this point. The three of you had moved into the living room area, where Charles was looking at all the people on the streets. Laura was flipping through her X-Men comics.

“It’s time for your medication, Charles,” you said. “I’ll grab some water and then you need to take them.”

“Fine,” he waved you off, still focusing down below.

You went into the bathroom and grabbed one of the cups. You didn’t even get to fill it up before you heard the door kicked open. Running out of the bathroom, you shot fire at the first gun man. He stumbled back into the hall way in flames. Four more men rushed into the room. Two of the guns went off and before you knew it, a bullet was in Laura’s leg, causing her to fall to the floor, and a bullet was in your shoulder. You cried out in pain as you stumbled forward, one of your hands gripping your shoulder. Laura roared in frustration as two more men entered.

“Laura!” You exclaimed as you saw one of the men pull out large cuffs.

There was nothing else you could do as Charles cried out and began seizing. His head fell back as the high-pitched noise went out in waves. A silent scream sat in your mouth as you fell to your knees. The men around the hotel room froze as the psychic attack worsened. Your eyes squeezed shut as your body fully gave out on the floor. Blood began to trickle from your nose and ears as the wound in your shoulder continued to bleed. Your breath became to come out in gasps as you felt the air thin around you. This had been the longest time you had stayed conscious during one of Charles’ seizures, and you were silently praying for it to end.

Despite the disorientation, you could hear the familiar sound of metal claws and grunting coming up from the hallway. Laura’s grunts could also be heard and the small movement of medical supplies. 

Logan plunged his claws into the first guy after he came to the open door and saw their guns pointed at you, Laura, and Charles. He saw you unmoving on the ground and bleeding, making him want to throw up. Laura was grunting and groaning on the ground as she tried to crawl to Charles with the syringe that could stop the seizure. Logan stabbed two more men before he tumbled into the table, trying to push through the immeasurable pain. 

Clenching his jaw, Logan pushed forward, stabbing into the remaining men before kneeling behind Charles. His shaking arm reached back to Laura, who was trying to hand him the syringe. Logan took it and plunged it into Charles neck, immediately stopping the seizure.

The psychic hold Charles had on everything disappeared, causing everyone to collapse. The men were all dead, but that didn’t stop Logan’s fear for your life. Logan turned to see Laura crawling over to you. You were now unconscious and still bleeding. Laura checked your pulse at your neck before she tore out the bullet. She glanced back at Logan, who gave her a thankful nod. Everyone was panting, trying to catch their breath as the stayed in their spots for a moment. Logan looked down and noticed a camera on one of the dead men. He grabbed it.

“Shit!” He exclaimed. He pushed himself up and over to the window.

“Is everyone alright?” Charles asked, glancing around. His eyes fell on you and your state, with Laura sitting protectively beside you. “No… I’m so sorry.”

“We gotta get out of here,” Logan stated. “Laura, grab your things and the wheelchair. I’ve got the meds and Y/N.”

Laura moved quickly as she went to gather her things. Logan went over and stuffed the medication in a bag, before his focus fell on you. His trembling hand went over to your shoulder, thankful that the wound was already healing. He needed to clean you up, but there was no time for that. Laura took Charles’ wheelchair as Logan threw the bag over to Laura and then scooped you up in his arms.

Logan held you close and kept near Laura and Charles as they took the elevator to the main floor and saw the damage that was done. People were unconscious and injured everywhere.

“I’m sorry,” Charles cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Logan led the way to the new truck he took. Laura opened the front passenger door, allowing Logan to get you in the seat and buckled before he helped Charles in and put away his wheelchair in the trunk. Sirens were coming closer, making every movement an urgent one. Logan hurried to the driver’s seat and sped away, just in time.

One of Logan’s hand held tight to the wheel as the other one reached over the consul to have some physical contact with you. He needed to feel you, that you were still there. It gave him some hope. Though, that hope began to dwindle as they stopped twice for gas and it was now nightfall with no sign of you waking.

“We should stop, Logan,” Charles said. “Get some rest and… and figure out what’s going on.”

Logan used the rearview mirror to look back at Charles and Laura. It was clear that Charles was being eaten up by guilt while Laura couldn’t stop looking at you. She was concerned and scared. Logan understood.

“Fine,” Logan huffed. “A cheap place. Only for a few hours.”

Almost two hours later, Logan found a motel off the side of the road. They didn’t ask for a name and he was able to get two joining rooms, with a total of three beds between the two. Logan was grateful that the rooms were on the first floor, allowing him to get Charles out so that Laura could push him and he could carry you. He unlocked one of the rooms, thankful it was the king bed room. He carefully laid you down before he went and opened the other room and made it joining. 

“You two are in the other room,” Logan grumbled, coming back to sit at your side.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” Charles said quietly. “She was getting my meds when they entered.”

“I’ll be in there to put you to bed in a minute. I just need some time alone.”

Charles sighed. “Come, Laura.” He reached out for the girl’s hand, gently taking it. “Let’s give them some space.” 

Charles and Laura headed into the other room. Laura didn’t shut the door all the way, leaving it open enough for her to watch the two of you. Logan’s eyes lined with tears as he carefully took your shirt off of you, leaving you in a bra. His eyes fell to the two newest scars, a reminder of how he couldn’t protect you. There was still dried blood on your face and torso. 

With a cough, Logan pushed himself from his seat on the bed and limped over to the bathroom. He grabbed a hand towel and got it damp before returning to your side. As carefully as his shaky hands would allow, Logan wiped the blood from your skin. Your steady heartbeat and breathing was the only things keeping Logan from having a serious breakdown.

After you were cleaned up, Logan tossed the towel away and pulled off his jacket and flannel. Gently, Logan dressed you in the flannel and buttoned you up. His fingers trailed down your cheeks.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “Wake up… I… I need you.” You made no move to wake. “Sweetheart, please.” He held a kiss to your forehead, like he could wake you up with just the tender act. “I can’t continue on without you.” 

He sighed when you didn’t respond. Turning away to go take care of Charles, your hand reached out and gripped onto his wrist. Logan whipped around to see you, eyes half open, staring at him.

“Thank fuck,” he muttered, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You need to stop scaring me like that.”

“Yeah, well…” you groaned, moving to sit up, “you need to stop lying to me.”

“What? I—“

“I found the towel, Logan. The bloody towel you coughed into… why did you hide it from me?”

“I don’t want to worry you anymore than I already am.”

“Well you’re doing a terrible job.” Logan chuckled, his hands coming up to gently hold your face. “We’re running out of time, Logan.”

Logan hated how you were right. “I can run faster.”

“You used to be able to, honey. But your body isn’t the same anymore.”

He leaned his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to leave you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as your hands came up to hold onto his wrists. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

“We finish this and then we’ll go off… We make the most of the time we have left.” He brushed his lips over yours but didn’t move to fully kiss you yet. “I will fight to stay with you.”

You made the move to fully kiss him. Your hands moved from his wrists to Logan’s back, tugging him toward you. Logan’s hands stayed on your face, keeping you engaged in the kiss. Despite his desire to continue, Logan pulled away and turned his head to the side, breaking into a coughing fit. You sat up more, placing your hand on his back.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

When his coughing died down, your head fell to his shoulder and his head gently rested on top of yours. Logan and you sat in silence as his breathing when back to normal.

“I should go grab you food,” Logan whispered.

“No,” you wrapped your arms around him. “Don’t leave… not again… Just hold me tonight, please… don’t let me go.”

Logan’s arms wrapped around you before he pulled you into his lap. “I’ve got to go take care of Charles, but I will be right back.”

“How are Charles and Laura?”

“They’re fine. Just worried about you.” He kissed your head. “Stay here and rust. I’ll be back.”

Logan slipped you back onto the bed and opened up the adjoining door. Laura stumbled back, causing you to giggle. She had clearly been watching the whole interaction.

“Kid—“

But before Logan could scold her, Laura was running past him and crushing you in a hug.

“Hey!” Logan yelled. “Careful, kid!”

“She’s fine, Logan,” you waved him off as you hugged Laura back. 

“It’s good to see you awake, Y/N,” Charles said from the doorway. 

You shot him a smile. Logan sighed as he and Charles headed further into the other room. Your fingers began combing through Laura’s hair as she continued to hold you tightly.

“I know it was you that got the bullet out,” you quietly said. “Thank you.” 

Laura nodded against you. Logan tucked Charles in and then stopped in the doorway, watching you comfort Laura. Even though Logan was struggling with Laura, he was grateful that you were able to be there for the child.

“Okay, kid,” Logan said, stepping into the room, “time for bed.”

Surprisingly, Laura let you go. She studied you over before slipping out of bed and heading to the adjoining room. Before she closed the door, Laura looked back.

“Goodnight, Laura,” you smiled.

Laura nodded before closing the door fully. Logan toed his shoes off before pulling down his plants and pulling off his shirts. He crawled down the bed and pulled you into him. You cuddled into him and took a deep breath through your nose. Though Logan hadn’t had a cigar in a few days, the smell still lingered on him. It was purely Logan. Your heart cracked at the thought of how much you’d miss that smell. 

“I want to get married,” Logan quietly admitted.

You moved so that you could see his face. “What? But we—“

“I want it real. Tomorrow. We find one of those stupid chapels or a judge and we get married. You are my wife, Y/N, and I am your husband. Let’s make it real… before it’s too late.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “Yes… please.”

Logan kissed your lips so tenderly you thought you were going to melt. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

~~~

Logan was incredibly grateful to find that there was a small wedding chapel around the corner from the motel. Laura and Charles sat in the pews as you and Logan stood in the front, holding hands.

“We are gathered together to witness the marriage of James Logan Howlett and Y/N L/N,” the minister began. “Marriage is a commitment in life, where two people can find and bring out the very best in each other. It offers opportunities for sharing and growth that no other human relationship can equal, a physical and emotional joining that has the promise of a lifetime. James and Y/N, do you present yourselves willingly and of your own accord to be joined in marriage?”

“We do,” you both said, keeping your eyes locked on each other.

“Will you promise to care for each other in the joys and sorrows of life, come what may, and to share the responsibility for growth and enrichment of your life together?”

“We will.”

“James, please repeat after me. I, James, take you Y/N to be my lawful wedded wife.”

Logan swallowed as tears pricked at his eyes. “I, James, take you Y/N to be my lawful wedded wife.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as—“ Logan’s voice cracked at the weight of the words. “For as long as we both shall live.”

“Y/N, please repeat after me. I, Y/N, take you James to be my lawful wedded husband.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I, Y/N, take you James to be my lawful wedded husband.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

“I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as,” Logan’s hands gave yours a squeeze, “long as we both shall live.”

“Will we be exchanging rings?”

“No,” Logan shook his head as he responded. 

“Well, by the authority vested in me by the continuation and the laws of this state, it is my honor to now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Logan tugged you into him. His hands let go of yours before one of his arms wrapped around your waist and his hand cradled your head. He dipped you as his lips firmly pressed against yours. Charles laughed as Laura and him clapped. When Logan continued the kiss, Laura cringed, causing Charles to laugh again.

“They’re in love, my dear,” he told her softly. “They have been through enough trauma for multiple lifetimes. They deserve this moment. And we will let them have it, for as long as we can.”

next chapter >

[loganhowlettshousewife]

logan howlett x latina!reader

series masterlist - my masterlist

“i need to learn spanish,” logan says out of the blue as you’re carefully doing your makeup. he likes to watch you get ready in the mornings, and though you don’t understand his fascination with the process you’ve been doing for years, it’s nice to have him around.

“is there a reason for this?” you ask, trying not to allow the conversation to distract you from the task at hand. you’ve gotten good at this, at both getting ready and talking to him, having conversations about everything and nothing, the kind of conversations he would never have with anyone else.

you met logan a few months ago, when he accompanied a group of mutant kids to canada, almost dying in the process to save them. he’d been on the verge of death when you found him, skin sallow and pale from the intense blood loss, breathing ragged. it hits you sometimes how lucky you are to have found him in time, to have been able to bring him back to his daughter - every day you’re infinitely grateful.

he’s struggled to adapt to life here. eden, a sanctuary for mutants that reminds him a bit too much of the x-mansion, the place where everything in his life went wrong. where he’d let his guard down little by little, letting people see past his mask, making relationships only to watch them all die. he could do nothing to save them.

so he hardly interacts with anyone other than you and laura kinney, his daughter, though lately she’s decided she wants everyone to call her laura howlett. the look on logan’s face when he told you was one you’d never forget: joy and fear and confusion, adoration for his little girl tinged with the anxiety of knowing that anyone close to him usually suffered terribly.

“laura,” he grumbles, which is the answer you expected. despite living in mexico for quite a few years, he didn’t pick up much spanish, and certainly not enough to understand laura’s rapid-fire quips. “she always says shit in spanish when she doesn’t want me to know what she’s sayin’.”

you laugh. laura’s a bright kid, and it’s true that she enjoys insulting logan in spanish, but only at the same frequency as her english insults towards him. most of the time her spanish comments are neither good nor bad, just stream of consciousness comments. she enjoys logan’s frustration at not being able to understand her, so really it doesn’t matter what she says, just that he hears it.

“i can try to teach you,” you reply, “but i’ve never taught anyone a language before, so be warned i may not be good at it.”

“a lot of people here speak spanish. i didn’t ask them.” logan says, “you’re the only person i can stand bein’ around for more than a few minutes, so you got a better shot than anyone else.”

you feel a rush of giddy excitement flow through you in response to his words. it’s not a secret that you find logan horribly, unbearably attractive with his salt-and-pepper hair and his beard and his deep eyes and his arms and honestly you could spend hours listing every one of his attractive features.

the point is, you want to kiss him stupid, and with the way he lingers around you in moments like these, makeup half-done and your bedsheets still rumpled from sleep, makes you hope that he might feel the same. maybe spending more time together is just what you need to figure it out.

“we can start tomorrow.” you agree.

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

latina reader: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3 @taextannie @gl1ndathegoodwitch @uncertified-doc

[foxboidrew]

Thankies for the tag!!

I decided to match my blog color and backdrop! The dice represent a gamble of what I reblog, the stars and constellations represent the daycare attendant, and I chose the painting options because while I love drawing- there's just something so fun about painting! Everything else is to match the character~!

@trashyswitch @gamequeenanya (and anyone who wants to join)

Design what your blog would look like if it was a person!

The picrew

I tag @red-skady @superchat @eviligo @maplepastry @nek0hime13 @bestgirlsyndrome @gentlesakura @games2girlsdotcom @deadlycoffee @bunny-stickers @starbitsun @888lvl @little-ikea-waldo @delanore-roosevelt @fefeps @imnevernice no pressure at all!!

If anyone else wants to join dont hesitate to reblog!!

[kashedelic]

FORGOTTEN - sylus x reader

SUMMARY: Don't expect a lot from someone who hasn't explained a lot about how they don't want a lot from you.

NOTES: sylus x reader, first person pov, question marks for the relationship, angst, girl u got side-chicked, reader is NOT mc, not as angsty as I could make it icl.

wc: 2497

a/n: i got a boat load of things to be doing, but sometimes sylus needs to come first. someone please tag me in a good Sylus fic that'll heal btw, even if this wasn't angsty as I could have made it I still need to be giggling over something

Be sure to like, reblog, or even follow! Your support means everything to me and helps more people to find this story! Thank you for reading!

Love is a simple yet complex thing. It makes days feel like waltzes, despite the darkness itching at the seams and cracks of the world. It tells a tale of mellow, warm days, where the sun doesn’t burn but heals. That’s how it felt to be in love

That’s why, when I awoke each morning with darkness still pooling in my apartment - the billowy shadows, albeit smaller now with the faint morning light of the N109 Zone, dancing against the walls - and the sound of a crow at my window, I was okay. The ebony feathers and gleaming ruby eyes visible through the glass were my proof. I was not forgotten.

Opening the window, the crow cocked its head inquisitively, as though asking, Let me in, please!

“Come in,” I said, sliding the window open. The crow swooped in and perched on my bed frame.

“Running errands already, huh, Mephisto?” I chuckled dryly, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. I gently scratched beneath its beak, earning a positive response from the bird.

With a sigh, I gathered my strength and moved to my closet, pulling out low-waisted baggy cargos and a fitted ribbed top. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “Tell Sylus he better be working when I get there - not passed out at his desk again.”

The image of Sylus asleep, cheek pressed against his knuckles, with soft snores escaping his lips, tugged my mouth into a smile. He could try to be inconspicuous, but on mornings when work demanded an early rise, his stoic demeanor softened into vulnerability. To others, it might not have seemed like much, but to me, it was enough to get moving.

When I reached the estate, Luke and Kieran waved me in, clearly still settling into the morning. Kieran was slumped on a couch while Luke mumbled something about not getting enough sleep and missing cereal. Familiar with their antics, I proceeded, leaving them to their misery.

“Sylus,” I called, a smile spreading across my face as I found him awake and working. “G’morning, boss.” The title slipped off my tongue easily - a term that had lost its seriousness, now laced with humor between us. Though our interactions were often work-related, there was a growing sense of familiarity. Shared jokes and casual banter hinted at something deeper.

He glanced up, a corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Good morning to you, too. Has the allure of work coffee dragged you in early?” His voice carried that low timbre that always caught me off guard.

I dropped into a leather armchair, resting my head in my hand. “Tempting, but no. I had a visitor this morning - a certain crow who seems to think I’m slacking.”

His smirk grew more pronounced. “Oh, is that so?”

“Don’t act coy,” I huffed.

“Caught red-handed,” he admitted with a chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Waking up early is one thing, but I should have a reason to wake up too, don’t you think?”

“Sylus, you’ve got a mountain of work to do,” I said, flustered, waving off his teasing.

“Work always waits for the boss, doesn’t it?” he quipped back.

After a bit more banter, I decided coffee was in order. Rising from the armchair, I motioned toward the door. “I’m craving that cafe in Linkon. Knowing you, you probably want something. So, are you coming with me, or should I grab something for the both of us?”

“Don’t leave without me,” Sylus replied quickly. “I could use a side adventure with you.”

Rolling my eyes to mask my nerves, I snorted. “Then hurry up. And by the way, the twins are out of commission, so we’ll probably have to take the car ourselves.”

As we drove toward Linkon, the air felt lighter, the stark contrast between N109’s industrial shadows and the bustling streets beyond. Yet Sylus’s words lingered in my mind, as his often did, planting seeds of thought that stayed with me, unshaken.

When we entered the coffee shop, I noticed his gaze linger. His face fell, not in fear, but in shock.

“Sylus, did you see something?” I asked, my voice soft, laced with earnest concern.

He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed before he blinked and turned to me. “I… No, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed gently.

He nodded, but the weight in his tone betrayed him. Something was wrong.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right? As your… assistant, you know at the very least?” The word was humbling on my tongue. Would saying "friend" be more appropriate? It would definitely be plausible, but friends don't necessarily pick and prod the way we have. To say "friends" undermines everything else that was bubbling, and I don’t want that.

Sighing at his hum, I let our outing continue. There was less banter, but it was a manageable experience.

The next morning, something felt off. Sylus’s usual sharp wit was dulled, his attention drifting elsewhere. Even the crow, who had become my constant visitor in the mornings, was absent. Days passed, and our exchanges grew quieter, the once effortless banter replaced by an unspoken tension.

It was clear as day: Sylus was scheming and plotting on his own, or at the very least, I wasn’t looped in. Kieran and Luke had no issue with Sylus's behavior, but there was something amiss. It seemed as though his attention had been pulled from me to focus on whatever was troubling him. Sure, I had no issue allowing for space - I mean, it wasn’t like we were together - but I was worried. There wasn’t any animosity between us, yet the trifling silence between us seemed to be a little more than that.

Days passed on and on, and it seemed that his stressed attitudes were lifting for more elated moods. It seemed as though a recovery was bound, but perhaps not for me. It seemed as though his ride was coming to an end, and mine? It was only beginning.

The burst of a gunshot, followed by its sharp echo, jolted me upright from my chair. My pulse quickened as I glanced toward the source of the sound, the commotion carrying through the otherwise quiet estate. I was used to the sound of bullets firing, close-range or far-range, but to hear it inside the estate, let alone where Sylus was? What for?

“Luke, Kieran? The hell was that?” I shouted from where I stood, concern pinching my eyebrows together. Luke and Kieran immediately appeared in the doorway, both uncharacteristically composed but clearly aware of my concern.

"Relax," Luke said, hands raised in an almost placating gesture. "It was nothing - you know boss, if he was shooting himself, he’d be able to heal himself back up. Lickity split."

"Nothing to worry about," Kieran chimed in, his tone steady, though the glance he exchanged with his brother was enough to prick at my nerves. Dolts.

“Yeah, but neither of you are answering my question. Who’s shooting right now?” Sylus was way capable of managing himself; heck, to say he couldn't would be lying straight through my teeth. He was the esteemed leader of Onychinus, who could miraculously (and freakishly, of course) mend himself back together. He feared nothing. He feared no one. He was the one feared.

Finally putting a brain cell to use, Luke placed a hand on his hip while another scratched his chin. “Not sure, but… could be something with that Hunter Association girl.”

My face morphed from concern and annoyance to confusion. Hunter Association girl? I couldn’t help but wonder, “Who?”

“You don’t know? Boss found the Hunter Association girl he was looking for?” Luke scratched his hood, creating a party of confusion between him and me. Kieran was also slowly joining the group as the conversation ensued. No, I wasn’t heartbroken right away. No, I wasn’t jealous. Yes, I was perplexed.

He was looking for someone, and he didn’t tell me?

Surely, he had a reason for doing so, but I could only pray that maybe, as an assistant, I would be informed of operations Onychinus was leading. Unless, of course, they were personal feats. Then, there would be a clear boundary that would make it evident I didn’t need to meddle in whatever Sylus was orchestrating.

Friend, but wasn’t I at least a friend? Could he not confide in me there? I mean, there was a part of him that I had unlocked over the previous years. Surely those bits and pieces of Sylus I got to learn through my own very eyes would at least trust me enough to tell me what the hell he was doing? Right?

Be levelled.

There is always more than what meets the eye.

Be levelled.

I slowly nodded, but the tension in my chest didn’t dissipate. “I did not know of her, but if you say it’s alright, I’ll take your word. You two better pray that I won’t be having to clean blood later, otherwise, you two…” I trailed a clenched fist with a thumb out at my neck with a menacing hiss imitating a knife at a throat. I knew better than to be vulnerable, let alone in front of the twins, and the best way to handle hurt in this moment was to pretend it didn’t exist with humor. The twins frantically saluted with an incoherent plea for their lives before dashing out. I returned to my work, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

I had to clean up, and it was worse than I thought.

Despite my weak attempts at swallowing the questions gnawing at my chest, every passing second listed another question to my list. I was a student of heartache and worry, and my summative was to understand where I would lay with Sylus in the coming days.

After I had finished my reading, the silence was deafening, and I could hear it alluring me to see what had developed since the shot. It had been hours since the initial bullet, and the assistant part (definitely not the confused, aching part) of me wanted to know if there was anything for me to take care of or, you know, any answers for those questions.

I noted that both the mystery girl and Sylus weren’t in the estate anymore, but I saw the blood. This line of work built up a tolerance for gore and grim, but it still wasn’t pleasant. It seemed as if someone had haphazardly tried to clean it up, but I wished I had never overheard the conversations between them as they returned.

As the days pursued, I noticed a shift in Sylus’s routine. A woman I hadn’t seen before appeared in the halls, a faint shadow following Sylus’s movements. Truly, it would have been easier if she wasn’t prancing around the estate, because then I wouldn’t have to be a first-hand witness to seeing how he looked at her. It takes no fool to see that he looked at her with a warm gleam in his eye. A gleam that wasn’t his evol, but a look that drank her whole, his eyebrows raised and only furrowing at her witty remarks. I never meant to notice, but it seemed like he was breathing easier, yet his muscles were itching to grab her.

To crave someone.

My heart was slowly revolting in my chest, plotting an anarchy against my mind. A loud demand that I seek closure. My story was over, but I begged, “Let me be broken,” my pitiful mind whispering in surrender.

Sylus, who usually moved like a lone wolf through the estate, now seemed tethered to her. She occupied the guest room, accompanied him on errands, and their dynamic seemed effortless - something I would never relate to. Under the assumption that all that is sweet takes time, I patiently waited for him; supported him; cared for him. The banter I had once shared with him now played out between them, and my tongue was left scratchy from the lack of words falling off it.

It wasn’t jealousy I felt, not exactly. It was the quiet unease of witnessing something intimate from the outside, knowing I was no longer the one who fit into the empty spaces. I was a puzzle piece to replace; a hastily drawn picture on a piece of paper, cut out to only fill in for the missing piece.

Still, I couldn’t deny how easily they seemed to get along. She wasn’t intrusive or overbearing; she blended into the environment, a piece that completed the puzzle of Sylus’s world. Watching her settle into the rhythm of things only served to emphasize my growing sense of distance, and it was vividly clear to me that she was the puzzle piece he was hunting for.

When the announcement came that Sylus and Ms. Hunter - as he would call her - would be attending an auction together, an event critical to our operations, it wasn’t a surprise. But Lord, did it sting. I had been by his side countless times for situations like this, yet now I was relegated to the periphery.

The day of the auction was oddly quiet. He was enamored by her. She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The dress he had tailored for her, the jewels that hung on her skin - they made her look stunning. If the case was different, I would have complimented her myself, but the depth of pain hurting within me begged me to stay back. As they left together, I busied myself with the tasks left behind, avoiding the gnawing thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me. The image of them - so perfect for one another - haunted my mind. Hours stretched on, and by the time they returned, their closeness was undeniable.

It hurt.

I promised myself to be level-headed, but all that had occurred was the feelings I had so helplessly grasped onto being sent to the gullies. I could neither leave nor stay. A sickening game where I would run in circles by myself. Since when did I become so dependent on him? I thought my individuality was what brought me here.

There’s a single pitch that no soul dares to experience. A sound so sharp it rips your heart out - not to serve it on a silver platter, but to hurl it onto a pile of others, drowning in the same feeling: sorrow. It’s the cacophony of thoughts rattling your chest, keeping it pumping with blood, yet leaving it aching. Sorrow doesn’t only break; it strengthens, but it’s through love that one nurtures.

Love is a simple yet complex thing. It makes days feel like waltzes, despite the darkness itching at the seams and cracks of the world. It tells a tale of mellow, warm days, where the sun doesn’t burn but heals. That’s how it felt to be in love.

That’s why, when I awoke each morning with darkness still pooling in my apartment - the billowy shadows, albeit smaller now with the faint morning light of the N109 Zone, dancing against the walls - and the sound of a crow at my window, I was okay. The ebony feathers and gleaming ruby eyes visible through the glass were my proof. I was not forgotten.

Opening the window, the crow cocked its head inquisitively, as though asking, Let me in, please!

“Come in,” I said, sliding the window open. The crow swooped in and perched on my bed frame.

“Running errands already, huh, Mephisto?” I chuckled dryly, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. I gently scratched beneath its beak, earning a positive response from the bird.

With a sigh, I gathered my strength and moved to my closet, pulling out low-waisted baggy cargos and a fitted ribbed top. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “Tell Sylus he better be working when I get there - not passed out at his desk again.”

The image of Sylus asleep, cheek pressed against his knuckles, with soft snores escaping his lips, tugged my mouth into a smile. He could try to be inconspicuous, but on mornings when work demanded an early rise, his stoic demeanor softened into vulnerability. To others, it might not have seemed like much, but to me, it was enough to get moving.

When I reached the estate, Luke and Kieran waved me in, clearly still settling into the morning. Kieran was slumped on a couch while Luke mumbled something about not getting enough sleep and missing cereal. Familiar with their antics, I proceeded, leaving them to their misery.

“Sylus,” I called, a smile spreading across my face as I found him awake and working. “G’morning, boss.” The title slipped off my tongue easily - a term that had lost its seriousness, now laced with humor between us. Though our interactions were often work-related, there was a growing sense of familiarity. Shared jokes and casual banter hinted at something deeper.

He glanced up, a corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Good morning to you, too. Has the allure of work coffee dragged you in early?” His voice carried that low timbre that always caught me off guard.

I dropped into a leather armchair, resting my head in my hand. “Tempting, but no. I had a visitor this morning - a certain crow who seems to think I’m slacking.”

His smirk grew more pronounced. “Oh, is that so?”

“Don’t act coy,” I huffed.

“Caught red-handed,” he admitted with a chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Waking up early is one thing, but I should have a reason to wake up too, don’t you think?”

“Sylus, you’ve got a mountain of work to do,” I said, flustered, waving off his teasing.

“Work always waits for the boss, doesn’t it?” he quipped back.

After a bit more banter, I decided coffee was in order. Rising from the armchair, I motioned toward the door. “I’m craving that cafe in Linkon. Knowing you, you probably want something. So, are you coming with me, or should I grab something for the both of us?”

“Don’t leave without me,” Sylus replied quickly. “I could use a side adventure with you.”

Rolling my eyes to mask my nerves, I snorted. “Then hurry up. And by the way, the twins are out of commission, so we’ll probably have to take the car ourselves.”

As we drove toward Linkon, the air felt lighter, the stark contrast between N109’s industrial shadows and the bustling streets beyond. Yet Sylus’s words lingered in my mind, as his often did, planting seeds of thought that stayed with me, unshaken.

When we entered the coffee shop, I noticed his gaze linger. His face fell, not in fear, but in shock.

“Sylus, did you see something?” I asked, my voice soft, laced with earnest concern.

He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed before he blinked and turned to me. “I… No, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed gently.

He nodded, but the weight in his tone betrayed him. Something was wrong.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right? As your… assistant, you know at the very least?” The word was humbling on my tongue. Would saying "friend" be more appropriate? It would definitely be plausible, but friends don't necessarily pick and prod the way we have. To say "friends" undermines everything else that was bubbling, and I don’t want that.

Sighing at his hum, I let our outing continue. There was less banter, but it was a manageable experience.

The next morning, something felt off. Sylus’s usual sharp wit was dulled, his attention drifting elsewhere. Even the crow, who had become my constant visitor in the mornings, was absent. Days passed, and our exchanges grew quieter, the once effortless banter replaced by an unspoken tension.

It was clear as day: Sylus was scheming and plotting on his own, or at the very least, I wasn’t looped in. Kieran and Luke had no issue with Sylus's behavior, but there was something amiss. It seemed as though his attention had been pulled from me to focus on whatever was troubling him. Sure, I had no issue allowing for space - I mean, it wasn’t like we were together - but I was worried. There wasn’t any animosity between us, yet the trifling silence between us seemed to be a little more than that.

Days passed on and on, and it seemed that his stressed attitudes were lifting for more elated moods. It seemed as though a recovery was bound, but perhaps not for me. It seemed as though his ride was coming to an end, and mine? It was only beginning.

The burst of a gunshot, followed by its sharp echo, jolted me upright from my chair. My pulse quickened as I glanced toward the source of the sound, the commotion carrying through the otherwise quiet estate. I was used to the sound of bullets firing, close-range or far-range, but to hear it inside the estate, let alone where Sylus was? What for?

“Luke, Kieran? The hell was that?” I shouted from where I stood, concern pinching my eyebrows together. Luke and Kieran immediately appeared in the doorway, both uncharacteristically composed but clearly aware of my concern.

"Relax," Luke said, hands raised in an almost placating gesture. "It was nothing - you know boss, if he was shooting himself, he’d be able to heal himself back up. Lickity split."

"Nothing to worry about," Kieran chimed in, his tone steady, though the glance he exchanged with his brother was enough to prick at my nerves. Dolts.

“Yeah, but neither of you are answering my question. Who’s shooting right now?” Sylus was way capable of managing himself; heck, to say he couldn't would be lying straight through my teeth. He was the esteemed leader of Onychinus, who could miraculously (and freakishly, of course) mend himself back together. He feared nothing. He feared no one. He was the one feared.

Finally putting a brain cell to use, Luke placed a hand on his hip while another scratched his chin. “Not sure, but… could be something with that Hunter Association girl.”

My face morphed from concern and annoyance to confusion. Hunter Association girl? I couldn’t help but wonder, “Who?”

“You don’t know? Boss found the Hunter Association girl he was looking for?” Luke scratched his hood, creating a party of confusion between him and me. Kieran was also slowly joining the group as the conversation ensued. No, I wasn’t heartbroken right away. No, I wasn’t jealous. Yes, I was perplexed.

He was looking for someone, and he didn’t tell me?

Surely, he had a reason for doing so, but I could only pray that maybe, as an assistant, I would be informed of operations Onychinus was leading. Unless, of course, they were personal feats. Then, there would be a clear boundary that would make it evident I didn’t need to meddle in whatever Sylus was orchestrating.

Friend, but wasn’t I at least a friend? Could he not confide in me there? I mean, there was a part of him that I had unlocked over the previous years. Surely those bits and pieces of Sylus I got to learn through my own very eyes would at least trust me enough to tell me what the hell he was doing? Right?

Be levelled.

There is always more than what meets the eye.

Be levelled.

I slowly nodded, but the tension in my chest didn’t dissipate. “I did not know of her, but if you say it’s alright, I’ll take your word. You two better pray that I won’t be having to clean blood later, otherwise, you two…” I trailed a clenched fist with a thumb out at my neck with a menacing hiss imitating a knife at a throat. I knew better than to be vulnerable, let alone in front of the twins, and the best way to handle hurt in this moment was to pretend it didn’t exist with humor. The twins frantically saluted with an incoherent plea for their lives before dashing out. I returned to my work, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

I had to clean up, and it was worse than I thought.

Despite my weak attempts at swallowing the questions gnawing at my chest, every passing second listed another question to my list. I was a student of heartache and worry, and my summative was to understand where I would lay with Sylus in the coming days.

After I had finished my reading, the silence was deafening, and I could hear it alluring me to see what had developed since the shot. It had been hours since the initial bullet, and the assistant part (definitely not the confused, aching part) of me wanted to know if there was anything for me to take care of or, you know, any answers for those questions.

I noted that both the mystery girl and Sylus weren’t in the estate anymore, but I saw the blood. This line of work built up a tolerance for gore and grim, but it still wasn’t pleasant. It seemed as if someone had haphazardly tried to clean it up, but I wished I had never overheard the conversations between them as they returned.

As the days pursued, I noticed a shift in Sylus’s routine. A woman I hadn’t seen before appeared in the halls, a faint shadow following Sylus’s movements. Truly, it would have been easier if she wasn’t prancing around the estate, because then I wouldn’t have to be a first-hand witness to seeing how he looked at her. It takes no fool to see that he looked at her with a warm gleam in his eye. A gleam that wasn’t his evol, but a look that drank her whole, his eyebrows raised and only furrowing at her witty remarks. I never meant to notice, but it seemed like he was breathing easier, yet his muscles were itching to grab her.

To crave someone.

My heart was slowly revolting in my chest, plotting an anarchy against my mind. A loud demand that I seek closure. My story was over, but I begged, “Let me be broken,” my pitiful mind whispering in surrender.

Sylus, who usually moved like a lone wolf through the estate, now seemed tethered to her. She occupied the guest room, accompanied him on errands, and their dynamic seemed effortless - something I would never relate to. Under the assumption that all that is sweet takes time, I patiently waited for him; supported him; cared for him. The banter I had once shared with him now played out between them, and my tongue was left scratchy from the lack of words falling off it.

It wasn’t jealousy I felt, not exactly. It was the quiet unease of witnessing something intimate from the outside, knowing I was no longer the one who fit into the empty spaces. I was a puzzle piece to replace; a hastily drawn picture on a piece of paper, cut out to only fill in for the missing piece.

Still, I couldn’t deny how easily they seemed to get along. She wasn’t intrusive or overbearing; she blended into the environment, a piece that completed the puzzle of Sylus’s world. Watching her settle into the rhythm of things only served to emphasize my growing sense of distance, and it was vividly clear to me that she was the puzzle piece he was hunting for.

When the announcement came that Sylus and Ms. Hunter - as he would call her - would be attending an auction together, an event critical to our operations, it wasn’t a surprise. But Lord, did it sting. I had been by his side countless times for situations like this, yet now I was relegated to the periphery.

The day of the auction was oddly quiet. He was enamored by her. She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The dress he had tailored for her, the jewels that hung on her skin - they made her look stunning. If the case was different, I would have complimented her myself, but the depth of pain hurting within me begged me to stay back. As they left together, I busied myself with the tasks left behind, avoiding the gnawing thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me. The image of them - so perfect for one another - haunted my mind. Hours stretched on, and by the time they returned, their closeness was undeniable.

It hurt.

I promised myself to be level-headed, but all that had occurred was the feelings I had so helplessly grasped onto being sent to the gullies. I could neither leave nor stay. A sickening game where I would run in circles by myself. Since when did I become so dependent on him? I thought my individuality was what brought me here.

Sylus’s guarded demeanor had softened around her. They moved as though they’d known each other for years, their conversation punctuated by shared laughter and subtle gestures.

I told myself it didn’t matter.

That it was just business, that whatever bond they’d formed wasn’t meant to affect me.

The lies my mind told to my heart.

I would happily take whatever piece of him I could get.

So, I stayed forgotten.

Please don’t repost, translate, or redistribute my work without permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. All rights to Love and Deepspace and its characters belong to Infold Games and respective copyright holders. © kashedelic 2024

[tkwrites]

Split & Healed - A snapshot in two parts - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Split & Healed - a Snapshot in two parts - Part 1 

Part 2

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: talks of Quinns lip injury; hurt/comfort

Summary: Sarah's reaction when Quinn's lip was split.

Word count: 1,800

Anonymous asked: The commentators mentioned Quinn is still struggling to speak with that monster of a split lip. How was Sarah's reaction? Was she there? Does he catch her just staring at him with pity throughout the day because like same 😫

Comments: Nonnie, you sent this in and I had an immediate vision of Sarah putting ointment on Quinns mouth, so I had to write it out. And the actual wounding. 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Split & Healed - a Snapshot in two parts - Part 1 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

She was there. It happened, and she was immediately up, pacing back and forth in the family and friends box, clinging to her phone as she waited to hear from him. 

When five minutes went by without any word, she sent him a message, hoping to break the tension as well as get an update: If he broke your nose, I swear to God, I’m going to kill him. 

Quinn snorted before responding, my nose is fine. My lip is another story. 

What happened? 

His stick caught me just right and busted through my lip and some of my gums. Have to get stitches. 

Through? 

A gruesome selfie popped up on her screen and she yelped as her phone flew out of her hand.

“What’s wrong?” Bella asked, running to her side. 

Sarah grimaced, “Quinn just sent me a picture of his lip.”

“Really,” Bella reached to pick it up.

“You don’t want to see, I promise.” 

Bella turned the device over anyway, and turned a delicate shade of green. “Oh, gross.” 

“I did try to warn you,” Sarah said as she took the phone back and clicked out of the image so she could respond.

Oh my god, warn a girl!

Quinn chuckled and was immediately reprimanded by the doctor currently stitching his lip. He went still and tried not to think too much about what was happening on the ice without him. 

Even seeing his picture of the gash – which she was pretty certain she could have seen his teeth through if the blood was mopped up and he moved just right – didn’t prepare her for seeing him that night when he got home after the game.

He slumped into the apartment, holding a towel wrapped ice pack to his mouth. 

“Hey,” she said tentatively, setting her book aside and standing to greet him. ��

“Hey,” he echoed morosely. 

“Can I see?” she asked, reaching up to take his wrist. 

Quinn felt a pained expression flash over his face. Not because it was hurting. They’d numbed his whole lip so they could put the stitches in without any pain and so he could keep playing, but it looked awful. Even though he’d washed the blood off in his post game shower, the wound looked almost worse now that some swelling had set in. 

“It’s okay,” she promised, nudging his hand down.

Quinn watched her face as he lowered the ice pack. 

“Oh, Quinn.” 

He’d expected her to wince, and instead she was looking at him with all this deep pity in her eyes. He couldn’t decide which was worse. 

“Is it still numb?” she asked, stopping her hand in midair as it instinctively reached up to touch it. 

He nodded. “Doc said –” he broke off, wincing at his voice. It was like getting out of the dentist in the worst way. Not only was his lip numb, it was swollen, and wouldn’t do anything he wanted it to, making talking normally impossible. 

“Doc said,” she prompted, ignoring the lisp. If she were in his shoes, she’d hate people reacting to it. 

“Said I should ice it,” he said, gesturing with the pack, “help the swelling.” 

“Makes sense.” 

He sighed heavily. 

“Can I get you anything?” she asked as he brought the ice pack up to his mouth again. 

He shrugged, that morose look back on his face..

“What would make you feel better?” she tried again. 

When he shrugged again, she figured she needed to take matters into her own hands. “Do you want to cuddle? I’ll play with your hair.”

Relief crashed through him like a wave. He didn’t have enough energy to make decisions. He was tired - so, so tired - and now he had this stupid busted lip because Hagel couldn’t keep control of his stick. Even though he knew it probably wasn’t intentional, he still wanted to blame him. It was just the perfectly imperfect set of circumstances. Wrong place, wrong time, hit with just the right portion of the stick to do maximum damage. At least they’d gotten the 4 minute power play. 

“Come on,” Sarah said quietly, taking his free hand, “do you want to go to the couch, or bed?” 

“Bed.” 

She led him up the stairs, and after asking if he wanted to change, pulled out pajamas for them. Once they settled into the sheets and she turned on a baking show for them to watch, he rested his ear on her chest, calmed instantly by the steady, familiar beat of her heart. 

Her fingers found their way into his hair, and his eyes fluttered closed.  It was still terrible, this busted lip, but at least she was here, and still loved him enough to hold him and play with his hair. 

Several days later, as they were snuggled up on the lucky couch reading, he snuffed out a frustrated noise as he tried to get more comfortable.

“What’s up?” she asked as her fingers stilled in their journey down his back. 

“Just hurts,” he mumbled, adjusting again so his head was fully in her lap, and he could look up into her face. 

Glancing down at him, Sarah felt an ache swell in her chest. Not only was he in pain, his perfect, lovely mouth was marred with stitches and swelling. He was still handsome, of course — sort of roguish looking now — but it would take some getting used to. She wondered how badly it would scar. 

“And my lips are dry.” 

They looked dry. He’d been licking them, absentmindedly fiddling the stitches with his tongue.

“Here,” she adjusted slightly.

He huffed, not wanting to move. 

“I’m just going to get you something,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”

Reluctantly, he sat up and she stood. 

She was holding a white tube when she came back a few minutes later. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. 

“Aquaphor?” he read. 

“It’s basically fancy vaseline, but it’s really nice at keeping moisture in. I use it on my lips at night in the winter.”

That was good enough for him. 

“Will you do it?” He felt a little silly requesting it of her, but he knew from experience how much lighter her touch could be compared to his own. And quite frankly, he just wanted her to touch him. She’d been incredibly reluctant to kiss him since it happened, and though he was glad she wasn’t running headlong into anything, he wanted to feel her. He finally had time at home and he couldn’t even kiss her because of this fucking lip. It wasn’t even that they spent all their time kissing. They both had busy lives and things they needed to get done, but the fact that he couldn't do it only made the desire stronger.

He should send Hagel a bunch of hyper-realistic fake donuts, or some shit like that — just so he could experience the disappointment of having something delicious dangled in front of him, only to find he couldn’t actually eat it. 

Feeling her touch him wouldn’t be the same, but at least it was something. 

“Sure.” Sarah took the tube back. As she settled next to him, the little lights from the Christmas tree reflected in her eyes making them look starry and magical.

The lid clicked open with a quiet snick. He watched her squeeze some of the thick ointment onto the pad of her index finger. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?” 

When she looked back into his face, she found Quinn watching her intensely. That intensity never failed to awake something within her. She pushed aside the desire that growled to life in her belly and heat that sparked between her legs.

He nodded.

“Ready?” she asked, as she reached out to rest her pinky on the side of his chin for grounding. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to do the bottom or the top first?” 

Eyes darting to hers, he asked, “what?” 

She gave him a mischievous little smile, but her tone was serious. “Should I start with the top lip to get it over with, or ease into it?” 

Disappointment and relief swept through him in equal measure. “Get it over with.” It was always best to get the hard part done first. 

Even though she tried to keep her touch as gentle as possible when she spread the salve onto his lip, he still flinched. 

“It’s okay,” he assured, reaching up to keep her from pulling her hand away, “just a reflex.” 

He intentionally bit back a wince as he lisped over the words, worried she would think it was a response to something she was doing. Trying to figure out how to talk when half of his lip was unnaturally stiff was no cake walk. He hated the way it changed his speech. 

She started again, and he held himself still. 

Watching her do this, let alone feeling it, soothed him and also awoke something primal in Quinn. Letting his eyes wander down to her mouth, he couldn’t stop thinking about the pleasured noises he could pull from it when he went down on her. Another thing he likely wouldn’t be able to do until the damn thing had healed more. 

He wished his mind would stop conjuring up images of everything he wanted to do, but couldn’t because of this stupid injury. 

“Better?” she asked, pulling her hand away. 

He nodded. “Still want to kiss you,” he mumbled. 

“I know, Quinny. I can’t stop thinking about kissing you, either.” 

A frustrated noise huffed out of his nose. “You’re not helping.” 

She smiled, “maybe we can try…” Leaning in, she pressed a gentle kiss to his bottom lip, doing her best to avoid causing any pain. 

He still let out a hissed kind of whine.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, pulling back abruptly. 

“It’s just tender,” he sighed, a dark edge of defeat in his voice. “This fucking sucks. I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“I know the feeling,” she said, eyes straying down to the dark stitches again. 

Quinn took a measure of comfort in the fact that she, at least, was feeling the same longing he was as he lay down again, settling his head back into her lap. 

Her fingers ran into his hair again and he sighed. At least there was this. 

Part 2

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 24.

YOU VOTED FOR A WHOLESOME FAMILY CHRISTMAS DINNER ! Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: SFW - None! Enjoy your first Christmas together ♡ (English is not my native language)

Summary: Imagine Dean at your family Christmas dinner. (Spoiler: It's chaos and lots of adorable fluff)

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: Not me skipping prompts to post in time for Christmas. (I'll post the remaining ones over time). Also, I decided to go for a family dinner at reader's place because I've already seen so many absolutely wholesome bunker-family christmas!

24th Dec. - "Our Baby"

Dean’s genuinely nervous about this entire family dinner business. He’s not used to it and he’s secretly terrified that he’ll screw up (He plays it cool though, masking it with his usual bravado “Honey, I hunt vamps for breakfast, I think I can deal with some rug rats and a bunch of aunties and grannies.”)

You get dragged under the mistletoe at least ten times, just so he can pull you into a deep, passionate kiss

Dean and you make up a fake story about how you met, and try to sell it to your family (he’s playing the mechanic as always)

Every time your hair finally has been combed to a presentable look, Dean swoops in and ruffles it again (‘cuz annoying you is just his way of saying I love you ♡)

Dean, your dad and your uncle try to chop up the massive frozen turkey which won’t fit into the oven, while everyone else watches them swear and work through every knife and meat cleaver the kitchen has to offer (it ends up with Dean using a chainsaw - cutting through the frozen body with uncannily well practise as your dad remarks impressed (and to be honest a bit freaked))

Dean rolls back his sleeves and shoots you a discreet, knowing wink before he starts to hack the poor frozen bird into pieces

Whenever he can, he holds your hand, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb (to secretly calm his nerves)

He gives you a light, teasing push whenever you say something cheeky, meanwhile he likes to poke fun at your annoying cousin and enjoys how he can get them all riled up

Dean sneaks his arm under the tablecloth to place a hand on your thigh during dinner (and you almost choke on the meat one time when he teasingly cups you right between the legs)

He pulls you away from the family and into a quiet corner in the house, where he can press you up against the wall and kiss you senseless

You laugh at Dean as your little niece tries to climb onto his lap and he looks at you helpless (Once she's perched on his knee, he gives you a mock-annoyed side glance and quips, “Damn rug rats. We're never gettin' one of those.” But his proud smile betrays him)

The amount of times your stuck-up aunt yells “language!” across the table at Dean (And Dean savouring every time he manages to drive her up the wall)

You swat Dean’s hand away every time he attempts to steal food off your plate (He snaps at you offended, "C'mon! That meat's gonna grow legs by the time you touch it!" "It's been 5 minutes, Dean.")

You frantically try to keep Dean from starting a drunken fight by stuffing more turkey in his mouth (which just leads to an eating contest - which Dean wins, of course)

Dean and your grandpa suddenly disappear from the dinner table (Dean was getting roped into helping your grandpa with fixing his old car in the garage)

Dean tugs you by the hand to sneak away after dinner, dragging you into the bathroom to make out with you against the sink

He accidentally calls out your mom’s name while you’re in the middle of some frisky business (Dean goes crimson red, but thankfully you burst out laughing)

You try and succeed to get Dean to wear one of those awful Christmas sweaters your grandmother knit (You bribe him with pie. “I want an entire pie. Not a meager slice. Not cake. Pie. Nuthin’ less.” )

At the family photo session Dean feels a bit lost and awkward. He swiftly pulls you in front of him so he can rest his chin on your head and you can discreetly stroke his arms wrapped around your waist

You notice how Dean silently mouths the lyrics of Zep's 'Ramble On' next to you (Because he's not used to singing carols)

Dean and you steal wine in the middle of the night and get drunk on the terrace (You end up in an intense snowball fight and Dean tackling you off the terrace into a heap of snow)

You tipsily try to teach Dean how to dance when you're alone but he trips over his own two feet, which makes you trip over his feet, which leads to you both crashing into the Christmas tree your aunt had spent so much money on (You two spend the next 2 hours desperately trying to fix the damn tree before your family returns from church)

Once everyone opens their presents, Dean gently pulls you onto his lap and tells you to close your eyes. His hand disappears in his jackets pocket and moments later pushes a small object into your hands on your lap. “’Kay you can look now, honey.” he says, unusually nervous, his chin resting on your shoulder. You hold a small, palm-sized, wooden box in your hand, handmade by Dean. You push it open and your eyes widen, “Wait- are those?” You look from the gift up to Dean, mouth hanging open, “Baby’s keys?” “Yep.” He grins, “I figured it was time for you to take her for a spin. Y’know… ” His arms wrap tightly around your stomach as he pulls you further back against his chest to nuzzle his nose against the side of your face, his voice dropping to a half-whisper, “She’s our Baby now.”

Dean and you sneak out to take a drive, Dean taking shotgun while he watches you carefully run your hands along the steering wheel like he entrusted you with his most valuable possession. His face softens and even if he can’t put it in words, he’s come to realize that his most valuable possession will always be you.

Extras:

Your 5 year old nephew beams across the room, "Mummy, uncle Dean gave me a balloon!" You blink at Dean in surprise and confusion, "You gave Tim a balloon?" Dean leans back in his chair and frowns, "What? No? The hell would I-" his eyes widen and his hands move back to frantically pat down his jeans back-pockets, "Shit - Damn rug rat-" He's cut short by your cousin's appalled screams in the background, seconds later you both scramble for cover while a giggling Timmy runs around the living room with an inflated XL condom in his hands.

For some reason your cousin keeps shoving her baby into Dean’s arms, gushing all over him, “Isn’t he the cutest? Hold him, it’s your turn,” she chirps cheerfully. “I-” Dean is taken off guard and awkwardly accepts the kid. He takes on a look of panic as he stares down at it before he shoots you a death glance that says: “help me”

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation ... (check the masterlist for more!)

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[blaklight]

a thing about my thoughts with this post- while i appreciate how big it’s gotten and that it’s this popular, i’ve recently begun to dislike all the attention that it’s getting. while it is good art, i feel it’s too bland and obsolete to be a reflection of my art style. i don’t want it to reflect the whole theme of my page, and i feel that it’s actually detracting attention away from my more recent works.

imo i have content that is leagues better than this one post that’s getting all the attention, and that it’s half a year too old to still keep going around. bc of this i’ve decided that i may delist it in a week- if you still see it in reblogs, cool, glad you like it, but i’d like my other posts to start making rounds for a change.

skykid just absolutely murking a cloud lol

EDIT: hey, why is this getting so many notes???