#he is going to carry her one of these days'

[julietsf1]

For Her - Lando Norris x Reader

summary: She came to support him. Instead, she was met with hate and a paddock full of people who acted like she didn’t exist. But if there was one thing about Lando Norris, it was that he loved out loud (3.2k words)

content: protective boyfriend, public relationship, public displays of affection, romantic grand gesture

AN: happy new season guys!!! what a race, I hope china will be kinder with my heart :') here's another fic for our race winner! muah <3

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The first race of the season should have been magical.

It should have been the kind of morning you’d always imagined—walking through the paddock with the giddy excitement of someone witnessing greatness up close, feeling the electricity in the air, the intoxicating mix of tire smoke, adrenaline, and champagne already waiting for its moment in the podium spray. You had thought of how proud you would feel watching Lando, how thrilling it would be to see him in his element, how belonging you might feel in a world that, until now, had existed for you in stories and through screens.

You had not imagined being denied entry.

"Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to step back."

The security guard barely spared you a glance, already moving on to the next person in line, his voice impassive, as if he had done this a hundred times before and you were simply another face in a sea of hopeful girls who had tried to talk their way into the paddock.

You gripped your lanyard a little tighter, your heart skipping slightly. "I have a pass," you said, voice gentle but firm as you lifted it to eye level, the McLaren logo glinting in the sunlight.

The guard exhaled sharply through his nose, unimpressed. "We've had a lot of fans trying to sneak in today. If you don’t have the right accreditation, I can’t let you through."

Your stomach twisted.

"I do have the right accreditation," you tried again, as kindly as possible, despite the heat creeping up your neck. "I’m with McLaren. My boyfriend-"

"Yeah, that’s what they all say."

The words were clipped, dismissive, and spoken with the kind of flat finality that suggested he had already decided you were lying.

Embarrassment coiled in your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs, making it suddenly difficult to breathe.

You stood there, cheeks burning, as people brushed past you, throwing curious glances your way. The seconds stretched endlessly, each one more excruciating than the last.

It wasn’t until a McLaren staff member recognized you—"Oh, she’s with Lando," they had said offhandedly—that the security guard finally stepped aside, not bothering with so much as an apology.

By the time you walked through the gates, the joy you had carried that morning had dulled into something smaller, something fragile.

And then, somehow, it got worse.

...

The McLaren motorhome stood like a beacon in the paddock, its sleek glass windows reflecting the bustle of team personnel moving inside. You exhaled slowly, shaking off the earlier embarrassment, and made your way toward the hospitality lounge, longing for something warm and familiar.

A latte, perhaps. Something to reset the day.

You stepped up to the hospitality counter with a practiced sort of grace, the kind that had been instilled in you from your childhood—shoulders back, chin lifted, a polite smile even when you wanted to disappear.

The woman behind the counter was stunning in a sharp, effortless way, her McLaren uniform crisp, her dark eyes shrewd, assessing. She barely looked up when you stepped forward.

"Good morning," you greeted, your voice light, pleasant. "Could I get an oat latte, please?"

The woman’s gaze flicked to you then, sweeping over you in a way that wasn’t unkind but wasn’t exactly warm, either.

"Are you with media?" she asked, already sounding bored.

You shook your head, still polite. "No, I’m—"

"Hospitality is for team guests only," she interrupted, her words clipped, a polite but unmistakable dismissal.

There was something about the way she said it, the way her lips curled just slightly, that sent something sharp down your spine.

You held up your accreditation again, your expression kind but unwavering. "I am a team guest. It is my first race though! I'm with Lando."

A pause. A flicker of something in her gaze.

And then, a small, almost imperceptible smirk.

"Ah," she said slowly, like she was only just now realizing. "Of course you are."

There was something else behind her tone, something you recognized.

You had met people like her before, in glittering lobbies, at perfectly curated events, in spaces where perception was everything. People who measured others in careful glances and quiet, ruthless judgments.

The woman tilted her head, her smile suddenly saccharine. "I’m afraid we’re only serving certain guests at the moment."

The words landed with the soft cruelty of a velvet dagger.

She wasn’t saying no outright.

She was refusing you while pretending it was about something else entirely.

You stared at her for a moment, your fingers tightening slightly over the strap of your bag.

You could have fought. Could have pointed out that this was ridiculous, that you had every right to be here, that her behavior was as transparent as it was petty.

But instead, you simply let out a soft breath and smiled.

Not the kind of smile that was warm and grateful.

The kind of smile that veiled the frustration you were feeling.

"No worries," you said gently, dipping your head, your voice smooth, graceful. "I wouldn’t want to trouble you."

And with that, you turned and walked away, back straight, head held high, because if nothing else—you were not the kind of woman who begged.

But it still stung.

...

The hotel room is quiet except for the faint murmur of the city outside. The occasional car hums past beneath the window, the distant noises of Melbourne nightlife drifting in through the small gap in the balcony door. Inside, the glow from the bedside lamp casts soft golden light over the pristine sheets, the half-finished cup of tea you abandoned hours ago, and your phone—face-down, untouched, deliberately ignored.

You had set it aside like it burned you.

And in a way, it had.

You don’t need to look at the screen to know what’s waiting for you there.

A photo. You, walking alone through the paddock, caught at an unflattering angle—your hands adjusting the strap of your bag, your gaze flicking off to the side. Out of context, impersonal, just another frame in someone else’s story.

But the caption beneath it?

That made it personal.

The caption beneath it, however, was anything but subtle.

"Classic gold digger. No personality, no job, just another wag looking for a paycheck."

The replies were worse.

"She looks so full of herself. I bet she spends his money like crazy."

"Lando deserves better. She looks disgusting."

"Does she even like racing or just his wallet?"

You had expected something like this eventually. Being seen always came at a cost.

But expectation doesn’t soften the blow.

It doesn’t make the words less sharp. It doesn’t stop them from settling in the quiet places of your mind, the ones that whisper in the dark when the world is still.

You exhale slowly, smoothing your hand over the sheets, willing away the tightness in your throat.

It’s fine.

You were raised to handle things like this with grace, with an understanding that women who stand beside successful men are often reduced to spectators, accessories, footnotes in their own stories.

You know who you are. You know your worth.

And yet, knowing doesn’t stop the sting.

A keycard beeps at the door.

Then, the soft sound of it swinging open, of footsteps—light, easy, carrying a kind of restless energy even now.

"Hi, darling," Lando’s voice fills the space before he does.

You don’t turn immediately, letting yourself blink once, twice, composing yourself in the quiet before offering a small smile as he steps inside.

He looks effortlessly disheveled—his hair still damp from the rain outside, his McLaren polo slightly untucked, the fabric creased like he’d run a hand over it one too many times.

He is still buzzing—from the high of the weekend, from the thrill of being back in the car, from the sheer joy of doing what he loves.

And then he looks at you.

And everything shifts.

His grin falters. His brows pull together.

"Hey," he says again, but softer this time, slower. "What’s wrong?"

You hesitate, fingers brushing against the sheets. "It’s nothing."

Lando stills.

"You’re upset."

It’s not a question.

You exhale, tilting your head slightly, lips curving in something almost amused. "No big deal, this is your weekend."

But Lando doesn’t smile.

Instead, he moves—crossing the room in three long strides, sinking down in front of you, his hands warm against your thighs, his gaze level, intent.

"Tell me," he says, quiet but firm.

All day, you have been ignored, dismissed, treated like an inconvenience. And yet, here he is, giving you his undivided attention, his entire world narrowing down to this moment, to you.

You hesitate. Then, finally, you murmur, "People weren’t exactly kind today."

His grip on your legs tightens just slightly.

"Security thought I was a fan trying to sneak in. Hospitality wouldn’t serve me." You let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head. "And now there’s a photo of me online. People saying I’m a disgusting gold digger."

Lando doesn’t move.

Doesn’t even breathe.

Then, slowly, he reaches for your phone, flipping it over with careful precision before scrolling. He doesn’t need you to guide him—he finds it immediately.

His jaw tightens.

And then, in a tone so low and steady that it makes your stomach flip:

"Are you joking?"

You open your mouth, but he’s already shaking his head, pushing himself up, pacing now, running a hand through his curls.

"Such bullshit," he starts, turning sharply, voice too controlled, too even, "that after everything—after how much effort you’ve put into being here, after how much of your life you’ve adjusted for me—these people had the nerve to treat you like that?"

You shift under his gaze, biting your lip. "Lando, it’s not—"

"No, no, hold on," he interrupts, hands in the air like he needs a second to process. He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, but there’s nothing amused about it.

"Because from where I’m standing, you’re the easiest person to love in any room, and I genuinely don’t understand how anyone could be that dense."

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, jaw tight. "Honestly, I don’t even know whether to be pissed or impressed by their level of dickheadness."

He stops, inhales sharply, then turns back to you.

"Tomorrow," he says, voice steady now, decisive. "We fix this."

You raise a brow. "We?"

Lando tilts his head, giving you a look like you have just asked if the sky is blue.

"Obviously."

...

There are very few things in life that can silence an entire paddock.

Lando Norris walking in hand-in-hand with you is apparently one of them.

The usual morning commotion—the hurried strides of engineers, the murmured strategy discussions, the distant hum of espresso machines—all of it seems to slow, the air shifting as one by one, heads turn.

Eyes follow you as you move through the paddock, curiosity crackling in the air like static before a storm.Conversations taper off, whispers trailing in your wake, phones discreetly lifted, cameras capturing the moment in real time.

Lando, of course, is unbothered.

If anything, he thrives under the weight of their attention. His grip on your hand remains firm, steady, unwavering, his strides unhurried, his smirk bordering on self-satisfied.

He wants them to see.

It’s deliberate—the way he holds you close, the way his fingers brush over yours in soft, thoughtless patterns, the way his head tilts toward you slightly every time you speak, like you are the only thing worth listening to.

There is no question about what this is.

There is no question about where you belong.

He makes sure of it.

And then, with perfect, almost cinematic timing, he steers you toward McLaren hospitality.

Right to the coffee bar.

The barista from yesterday stands behind the counter, the same sharp-cut uniform, the same perfectly applied lipstick, the same calculating gaze.

Only now, it falters.

She sees Lando before she sees you, her posture straightening, professional mask slipping into place like second nature. But then, her eyes flick toward you—toward your hands intertwined, toward the subtle, unspoken intimacy of the way he keeps close.

You watch as realization dawns.

Oh.

Lando leans against the counter, effortless, grinning.

"Two oat lattes," he says, voice bright, easy, amused. "One for me, one for my girl."

The silence that follows is exquisite.

The barista hesitates—just for a fraction of a second, just long enough for you to see it.

Panic.

"Of course," she says, voice smooth but not quite as sharp as before.

And just like that, there are no shortages, no waiting, no excuses.

The coffees are made within seconds.

Lando watches, humming thoughtfully, tapping his fingers lightly against the counter as she slides the first cup toward him. He lifts it to his lips, taking a slow, exaggerated sip before letting out a long, obnoxiously satisfied hum.

"Mm," he muses, shifting his weight, sparing her a glance. "Tastes better today."

His smirk is dangerous.

"Must be the service."

The barista’s lips press together just slightly.

You take your coffee, cradling the cup in your hands, offering her a soft, serene smile.

"Thank you," you say lightly.

You watch as she winces.

And Lando, the ever-efficient instigator that he is, takes it one step further.

"You know," he muses, as if the thought has just occurred to him, "I think I should make this a tradition."

He turns to you then, eyes bright with mischief, voice just loud enough for the surrounding staff to hear.

"Morning coffee," he says smoothly. "Every race weekend. For the foreseeable future."

The barista looks like she wants to disappear.

You, on the other hand, can’t help but smile.

...

The checkered flag had waved, the roar of the crowd still vibrating through the air, but none of it mattered—not the celebrations, not the flashing cameras, not the McLaren team swarming the pit wall in victory.

Because the moment Lando climbed out of the car, eyes scanning the chaos, he found you.

And then—he ran.

Straight toward you, helmet discarded, race suit half-unzipped, curls a disheveled mess from the heat of the cockpit.

You barely have time to react before he collides into you, arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you off the ground like you weigh nothing.

You shriek—an actual, real shriek—as your feet leave the pavement, the entire world tilting as he spins you in circles,laughter spilling from his lips like he can’t contain it.

And then—he kisses you.

Right there, in front of thousands of fans, in front of cameras, reporters, his entire team.

Hard. Fierce. Like he’d won the race and you in the same breath.

The world erupts around you—cheering, chanting, Oscar groaning dramatically in the background.

"Oh my god. You two are disgusting."

None of it matters.

Because Lando is grinning against your lips, breathless, victorious, yours.

When he finally sets you back down, he doesn’t let go.

Doesn’t even try to.

Instead, he beams down at you, cheeks flushed, curls damp with sweat, voice all cocky, all Lando.

"So, did I impress you or what?"

You roll your eyes, fond and exasperated all at once. "Eh. You were alright."

He gasps. Actually gasps.

"You’re joking." He turns toward the cameras, mock-betrayed. "Did you guys hear that? I win a Grand Prix, and she says I’m ‘alright.’"

You bite your lip, pretending to consider. "You were pretty fast, I guess."

"Pretty fast?" he repeats, positively scandalized. "Babe. I am literally the fastest man in Australia right now."

You burst out laughing. "I was kind of rooting for Oscar."

Oscar, mid-drink of water behind you, chokes.

"Lies." Lando pulls you back in, forehead resting against yours, his voice dropping into something softer, something just for you.

"Say you’re proud of me."

You sigh dramatically. "I guess I’m—"

"Say it."

You grin, heart pounding. "Fine. I’m proud of you, Norris."

He hums, satisfied, smug, still absolutely glowing. "Thought so."

...

Lando was still riding the high when he got to the media pen, his race suit unzipped to his waist, curls damp with sweat, and that stupidly charming grin still plastered across his face.

It wasn’t just a ‘first win of the season’ grin.

It was a ‘my girlfriend is here, and I just won a whole-ass race for her’ grin.

The interviewer barely got a word in before Lando pointed directly at you, standing just off-camera.

"Her."

You blink. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" He turns back to the cameras, nodding enthusiastically. "Let’s just get this straight—I did this for her. Like, entirely. One hundred percent. Full motivation. If she hadn’t shown up, I probably would’ve parked it in a gravel trap on lap ten."

The interviewer laughed. "So, you’re saying she’s your good luck charm?"

"Absolutely," Lando replied, dead serious. "I mean, have you seen her? Look at her."

The camera did not pan to you, thank god. The poor guy running the live feed probably had no idea what to do.

But Lando? Oh, he was just getting started.

"She walked into this paddock today looking like an actual goddess, completely unaware that she is, in fact, the sun incarnate, and people want me to talk about tire degradation? No. I want to talk about her."

The interviewer tried so hard to stay professional.

"You—uh, you had great pace today—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Lando waved him off.

"Lando, I don’t think—"

"Listen, I need to emphasize something." Lando leaned in, tone conspiratorial. "Do you know how lucky I am? Not only is she breathtaking, but she’s also, like, annoyingly smart. Like, did you know she reads all the time? Real books.Not just memes and Twitter threads like me."

He gestured vaguely, suddenly overwhelmed by his own emotions.

"She doesn’t even realize how much people admire her. But I see it. I see everything. And I just think the world needs to start appreciating her at my level."

"That is… very sweet." The interviewer was visibly struggling to keep up.

"Just had to get that out there."

"Well, congratulations on the win, Lando," the interviewer finally managed, skimming over his list of unanswered questions he had prepared.

"Thank you." He nodded seriously, finally letting go of the mic. "And big thanks to the team, of course."

You rolled your eyes from behind the cameras, suppressing a smile.

...

The internet had seen many things, but no one was prepared for Lando Norris using his post-race interview as a full-blown love letter. 

"Lando’s race pace was great, but his girlfriend propaganda was even stronger."

"THE WAY HE JUST POINTED AT HER IMMEDIATELY I CAN’T."

"Lando Norris said ‘this win is for my girlfriend’ and proceeded to recite a romantic sonnet on live TV. My standards are ruined."

Later, as the two of you curled up in the hotel room, finally away from the cameras, Lando buried his face in your neck with a content sigh.

"You know," he murmured, voice sleepy, warm, full of love. "I really did win that for you."

You ran your fingers through his curls. "I know."

"I meant every word, too."

You smiled. "Don't you think it was a bit much?"

"I don't think it was nearly enough," he said, already half-asleep, grinning like he had never been happier.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

John silently cursed at his stupidity as he watched you disappear into the waves. During the last few days, all of them had realized what they all had been missing and needing. And it was you. While you were around, they could forget about their job, about the horrors plaguing their minds. The way your eyes sparkled when you smiled at them, made them realize that all they wanted, was to keep you close. To be able to look into your eyes forever. Just the night before, John had decided that it was finally time to retire. When he told the others, even though they were younger, they echoed his choice and the very same day they had called Kate and told her what they had decided.

She wasn’t surprised, and John couldn’t help but wonder if she knew about the little secret hidden beneath the surface. If she knew that by sending them there, it would make them realize what life was about. At the same time, he didn’t care. All he and the others could focus on, were you.

He caught Kyle sitting by the window, staring out at the waters, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He noticed how Johnny suddenly was an early riser just so he could head out and meet you halfway on your way to them. Or how Simon walked with a straighter back when he left the house to go and meet you. How the load that usually pressed down upon his shoulders seemed to lift whenever you were around. And how you got him to laugh. It wasn’t loud, or boisterous, but it was a laugh nonetheless. And John adored you even more because of the relief you brought to his team.

So, watching you fleeing brought guilt to his mind. If he had now spooked you away for good, taken you from his men, he would never forgive himself. “Where is our Ariel?” It was Johnny, carrying a tray with sliced fruit, who pulled John from his stupor. As he watched the Sergeant walk up to him, he considered lying. But the genuine joy in Johnny's eyes stopped him. “She ah…she left.” His shoulders dropped, a frown pulling at his brows. “Why?”

Before John answered, he waited for Simon and Kyle to join them. He didn’t want to confess his mistake three times. While recounting the events, he didn’t dare look into his men's eyes, afraid of the disappointment in them. But when he was done and looked up, they were filled with understanding, hope, and resolve. “’s fine cap. She’ll come back, I know it.”

And Johnny was right. You came back. You didn’t even make it back to your home before you turned around and swam in the direction you came from. Not for a single moment, did that tiny voice inside you shut up. It kept nagging, spinning you pictures of your future with these men. What was there to lose anyway? You didn’t have anyone down here, no one who would wonder where you were or would be worried.

So, you turned around, exhausting yourself to get to them as quickly as you could and when you breached the surface, you felt four pairs of eyes on you. Immediately, you found the one you had the strongest bond with and reached out to him. Without hesitation, he came to you and when you wrapped your arms around his neck, lifting yourself partway out of the water, his arms supporting you, and whispered, “Kiss me.”, he didn’t hesitate. How could he? How could he when it had been everything he had been thinking about since he met you?

As his lips slotted against yours, your body melting against his as if you had been made for him, you felt your fin melt away and part as it turned into a pair of legs. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, as you felt the water splash around your toes, the sensation ticklish in a way you had never experienced before.

The splashing of water, as three pairs of feet rushed toward you, pulled you from your bliss, as your lips parted. Before you knew it, the others reached for you, lips finding every part of you, as you giggled in their arms. “You’re our now, love.” You grinned at John, whose arms were wrapped around you at that moment, and nodded. “All yours.”

A/N: Again, inspired by @beloveds-embrace. A little shorter this time and I tried to keep it vague, who kissed and turned you, so you all could pick your favorite! Let me know who you picked! 🥰 Also, I think I have one more part in me, something cute where you learn how to human. And maybe a bit of spice. 😉 (Also, would ya'll be interested in constant tag lists? Like, whenever I post smth Ghost, I'll tag you, etc.?)

@totalapathy @soniiyi @littleindulgences @harmonysonata @dotmistbird @z-wantstowrite @small-mean-dwarf @kthehoeforfictionalmen @limeleag @terrifiedanimegirl @herefor-tojis-tits @armycaratlover @enfppuff @thychuvaluswife @theoreticalfreak @mxtokko @moonstruks @littleindulgences @aneternallyexhaustedpigeon @kawaii-michealmyers @starlightkitten19 @glitteryarcadefart @sw33tsnow @stargirl-mo @dravenskye

[peanutalergy]

would you write something where Spencer finds reader's lost cat and brings it back to her then they keep in touch + they both develop a little crush on each other?

your writing is wonderful!! <3

-🪲

tags: fluff fluff fluff but there's making out (?) idk if that counts as anything; also lots of cursing lowkey; reader is lowk penelope garcia coded

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: tysm for the req that's an adorable idea unfortunately not such great execution from my part also I wrote this in like an hour I'm so exhausted I should go to sleep but whatever I also don't know if this what you meant anon I'm sorry if it's not 😭 yeah I hate this sorry idk what to say it sucks

MISSING CAT

orange, green eyed, really chubby cat, last seen at ~3:30pm on november 9th. he will answer to garfield or little fucker; most likely the latter, despite that not being his name. he's very clingy, he’ll probably come up to you and start rubbing on your leg like the little freak he is but he's actually just a baby who needs his mom (me) so please call this number if you find him.

reward: $10 and a kiss maybe if you’re nice enough

spencer chuckled when he reached the end of the text and saw the adorable picture of a ginger fat cat. he read over the number on the poster, making sure to keep it stored in a folder at the back of his head along with the image of garfield as he returned to his walk.

not even an hour later, when walking past a not-so-nice smelling trash can, he heard some loud purring coming from one of the boxes surrounding it.

if it were any other day, he would have ignored it, guessing it's just another stray cat, but he was still thinking about garfield and his seemingly interesting owner.

“garfield…?” spencer called out from afar. silence. he took a few steps closer, trying to peek over the box while keeping his distance so as to avoid getting jumped at and attacked. “little… fucker…?” he choked over the nickname.

immediately, the animal that had been in his mind since seeing his picture jumped out of the box, purring louder as he started rubbing on spencer’s legs. he chuckled despite being scared.

garfield wasn't nearly as well kept then as he was in the picture, due to the days he had been on the streets. still chubby, but dirty and with a few patches of dried blood in his fur. spencer tried to move away, seeing his pants getting smudged, but the cat just started following him.

spencer pulled out his phone and started dialing the number seen on the poster, still trying to avoid the animal. after a few rings, you picked up.

“hello?...”

“hi, is this garfield’s, uh… owner?”

“yeah, why? have you found him...?”

“i think i did, yeah.”

“oh my god, wait, actually? is he okay? are you serious?” you mumbled excitedly, sitting up from the position you were comfortably lying in, the show on your tv already forgotten.

“i am serious, yeah. i'm just out on a walk, and, uh… he was in a box near a trash can. he's all dirty and bloody, but he seems okay.”

“my poor baby” you said with a pout “where are you? wait– who are you? who do i owe my son’s life to? my savior, my hero?”

“oh, i’m just… just spencer, really.” he said with an awkward chuckle, giving in and leaning down to caress the cat, who immediately leans into his hands as if he's never been pet before, “spencer reid.”

“mm, cool. anyway, where are you? i’m going to pick him up. tell him mommy’s coming. actually maybe don't. don't refer to me as mommy, please.”

“uh, well, i wouldn't mind dropping him off at your place, if you want.”

“i thought you were on a walk? you're gonna walk all the way to my apartment with that fucker in your arms?”

“yeah, so… yeah, actually. does he… is he fine with being carried?”

“oh, totally, he loves uppies, but it's–”

“sorry, what? uppies??” he cut you off, confusion and disbelief clear in his voice.

“yeah…? uppies… like… when you carry an animal? in your arms?...” a bleach and tone, like???

“oh, okay…”

“yeah, so, he loves uppies. but it's just inconvenient, no? carrying him like that? where even are you, dude? is it not far?”

after you tell him your address, spencer decided it's close enough to walk there with an overweight cat in his arms. however, when he took forty minutes to show up at your door, panting and sweaty, you realized that probably wasn't a good idea.

“jesus, man, you could've just said you can't walk that long with this fucker.” you said as you opened the door, letting him in and taking the cat in your arms, talking to him in that tiny, baby voice. “oh my god, my baby, thank you so much. you poor thing. where were you, sweetheart? i missed you so so so much…”

spencer stood awkwardly in the doorway, wiping away the dirt that the animal left in his shirt, as you kept mumbling to him.

it must have been around another half hour before you set him down on the ground again, but when you did so, you looked at spencer and gasped, “oh, where are my manners? i'm so sorry, i forgot you were there. come in, jesus, come on in.”

he walked in, and after offering him a glass of water, you led him to sit on the couch. settling awkwardly beside you, he said “so, uh… is he alright? hurt..?”

“no, he's okay. i mean, as far as i can tell. not a vet, or anything. i don't think the blood is his… although that doesn't make it any less worrying. i'll give his vet a call. maybe stop by the clinic. yeah, i should probably stop by the clinic, shouldn't i?”

“yeah, probably. does he have all his vaccines?”

“of course.”

“still, there's a chance he would have caught a disease or eaten something that could have been infected. it's always good to make sure.”

“yeah, i know. i’ll give them a call, see if they can see us today.” you said, to which spencer replied with a nod, the two of you falling silent for a moment. “oh, right, the reward.”

you stood up and walked to the table, taking your wallet and a $10 bill from it. “there's no need, really… it's okay. don't worry about it” he argued, shaking his head when you offered him the money.

“no, oh my god, no, this is the least i can do. you walked so far, with that little heavy fucker. please, just take this. actually, you deserve more. i can barely handle to hold him for more than a few minutes, i'm not sure how you–” you look him up and down “–managed to walk with him for so long. just take the money.” you mumble, taking another bill from your wallet and handing it to him.

"no, no, really, it's fine, i swear."

"no, stop it. you're not leaving until you take this money."

he took it with a scoff, seeing how you won't take no for an answer.

“i should give you the other part of the reward, too.” you said with a chuckle as you sat back down beside him.

“what, the kiss?” he stammered, shaking his head as his face goes red and his eyes widened slightly.

“yeah, you want it?” he started stuttering when you said that, so before he got a proper word out, you added “nah, man, i'm just joking. i put that there to be funny, i'd never kiss a stranger like that.”

“oh, yeah, that… that makes sense.” he laughed shyly, nodding.

the cat showed up again, and you went back to talking about him, until spencer decided it's time to go home, which was only around a few hours later.

now, you're not sure when that turned into what it is now, but you're glad it did.

maybe it was the day after that, when you took garfield to the groomers, and sent spencer a picture of him when he got home, wearing the cute tie they always give him.

maybe it was when you started sending every picture you took of garfield to spencer.

or maybe it was when you started talking about things unrelated to the animal.

you're not sure. but now, spencer reid is at your place again, wearing a colorful hat and singing happy birthday to your cat.

of course, he's the only other person at the party. he's the only friend you were certain would show up. and that he did, after rambling about how the cat didn’t even know it was his birthday.

“woo hoo!! happy birthday, baby!” you exclaim when the song is over, taking the cat in your arms and giving him kisses.

“yay, happy birthday, garfield!” he says with a chuckle, petting him.

as soon as he starts getting fussy, though, you put him back down on the ground with a giggle, “yeah, yeah, off you go.”

“i did tell you he doesn't know the date he was born in.”

“well, yeah, but at least he's getting plenty of treats.” you shrug as you throw yourself on the sofa along with spencer, taking off the birthday hats and tossing them to the side. “he knows he's loved.”

“i'm sure he does” he mumbles, smiling at you softly.

“thanks, by the way” you mutter after a beat, turning to him and giving him a nod.

“for what?”

“finding him.”

“that was ages ago, you've thanked me 63 times since then.” he says with a laugh.

“it's not enough, though. he's a stupid little cat, i doubt he would have survived more time out there. you saved his life, probably.”

he nods, staying quiet for another moment.

“y'know, there is one way you could thank me.”

“yeah…?” you already know what he's talking about, he already knows that you already know. the blush in his cheeks that showed up as he said that, his fidgety fingers, the way he started avoiding your gaze.

“the, uhm… the other part of the reward…”

you'd tease him, make him actually say it, if it weren't for how anxious he looks. it physically hurts, how awkward he is.

so instead, you move your hands to his shoulders as you lean in to press your lips to his. for a second, you're scared this isn't what he was talking about. you're wondering if you've just screwed up a friendship, until he moves a shy hand up to your face.

he feels scared, at first. he holds your jaw, fingers gently tangling in your hair as he hesitantly kisses you. but when a moment goes by like that, and you move to sit on his lap, straddling his hips, it's like something within him changes.

he starts kissing you like you're the first and last thing he'll ever touch, his hands roaming down your body as he slides his tongue into your mouth. he bites and sucks at your bottom lip while his arms wrap around your waist, and your own arms go around his neck.

but a man can't live only off of his beloved’s lips. unfortunately, humans do need oxygen. so when he needs to pull away to breathe, he does so with a groan.

panting, you stare at each other with a smile, and pressing one quick peck to his lips, you whisper, “thank you.”

"no, thank you.”

[cherryyluvs]

Hi just first wanted to say I love ur writing, it's so nice to read as if am really seeing it physically. Anyways I wanted to ask if you could write a starfire type reader where she first meets mark and how their relationship grows . Exploring his friends and parents reaction to her power , tamaranean background and personality. I know damn well cecil will be exhausted finding out there's another alien race with so much power . thank you again for ur work in the invincible fandom cause there's so few amazing writers. 😘😘

Ahhh thank you so much!! 🥹💖 That means the world to me!! I LOVE the idea of a Starfire-type reader I don’t know much of her but I tried my best (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) hope you enjoy!!

Mark first meets you under a.. Chaotic circumstance. An alien attack and he is already in mid-fight when you swoop in. Blasting through enemies, striking, and flipping with this effortless grace. Mark is immediately like Σ(°□°˶) !! So powerful, he can't take his eyes off of you. He's already impressed but also slightly intimidated. “Uh… who are you?” But you can't understand him yet, titling your head blinking in confusion. “You don't understand me, do you?”

Without hesitation you float towards him, placing your hands gently on his cheek and kissing him. Mark freezes. His eyes widened. You pull back, lips turning into a bright smile. “Ah! Now i understand”

“What just happened?”

“In my homeworld, Tamaran, lip contact is a simple custom to learn any language”

“simple..??” Mark is completely flustered while you're acting like kissing him was the most normal thing in the world.

He starts seeing you around more often, you being curious about Earth. Everything from human customs to food. Mark ends up becoming your unofficial guide. You’re fascinated by Earth’s food, the first time Mark takes you out for burgers, you literally hover out of your seat from excitement. “This is delicious! May I try yours?” and before he could answer you, steal a fry from his tray. Acting like fries are the greatest discovery of your life. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Mark becomes curious about Tamaranean culture and one day you got him to try something from your home plant – Zorkaberries. Presenting them to him proudly, a small bowl of deep purple berries in your hand, Mark would eye them suspiciously. He hesitated for a moment before picking one, and popping it in his mouth. The flavor being bittersweet “Whoa, this is really good?”

“Of course! They are Zorkaberries!!” giggling, floating closer and patting his back “do you wish for more?”

Tamaraneans are naturally affectionate so you're constantly touching mark. Holding his hand, brushing your fingers through his hair, and hugging him from behind. It's second nature to you. The more you two hang out and go on dates the more you start falling in love, he loves how blunt you are and have no problem telling Mark exactly how you feel — even if it flusters him.

When you first met his parents, Debbie and Nolan. You were extremely polite, immediately hugging her and complimenting her home. Offering to help with dinner which she is surprised but pleased by. During dinner time you speak of tales of your planet, your people, how you come from a warrior race and noble family. Nolan, on the other hand, is suspicious of you. He recognizes how powerful you are and the fact that you come from an alien race puts him on edge. His Viltrumite instincts are definitely twitching, wary of you but you remain cheerful and unbothered.

Cecil is immediately rubbing his temples because 2 Viltrumites is already bad enough – now there's Tamaranean on earth? Just what he needed, but deep down he knows you could be an invaluable ally , keeping a close eye on you to ensure you're not up to something.

As for mark friends ? William thinks you're super cool, saved him from a villain once and he won't stop yapping about how you carried him bridal style. Amber loves how sweet and down to earth you are, obsessed with helping you pick out earth clothes and doing ‘girl stuff’ together. Eve is immediately fascinated by you, she recognizes your power level and asks you about your planet and your culture. “So you guys can fly and absorb sunlight? That's insane”

“It is quite convenient!”

Bonus:

Afterward, Mark’s brain is still trying to catch up. Mark (to himself): “She’s a literal princess. And she kissed me. To learn my language. Okay.” (꜆꜄ᴗ͈﹏ᴗ͈)꜆꜄꜆

[mashtatosworld]

lust for life

summary: its date night and you bring up plans for the future...

*part of the gdad series

It had been two years since your last real date night - just the two of you.

Not that you minded.

Every outing, every dinner, every event in the last two years had included your daughter, the centre of both your worlds. She was either sitting on Jiyong’s lap, demanding her own plate of truffle noodles, or nestled in your arms, pouting when you refused to give her a sip of your wine.

But tonight was different.

Jiyong was currently occupied, laying out Diva’s tiny designer outfit for the night. Meanwhile, Diva, who had no concerns about your plans whatsoever, was lounging on your bed, completely absorbed in Jiyong’s phone.

You eyed the device carefully. “Is that a good idea after last time?”

Jiyong waved off your concern. “Don’t worry, I put the child lock on this time.”

As if to challenge him, Diva’s small fingers continued tapping the screen, her brows furrowed in concentration. Her little tongue poked out as she aggressively swiped.

“…She’s trying to crack it,” you noted.

Jiyong glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “She’s my baby angel - she’s not hacking into my phone.”

You weren’t so sure about that. They were practically twins, so you wouldn't be surprised if Face ID worked.

Shaking your head, you turned back to him. “Anyway, you don’t need to pick out her outfit. Your mom will be with her. Tonight, it’s just us.”

Jiyong froze. “Wait - just us?”

You gave him a look. “That’s usually how dates work.”

For a second, he looked lost.

His whole world had been wrapped around being a dad, making sure his baby looked perfect, making sure you were okay. But now, realising that he didn’t have to plan for carrying around baby wipes or extra snacks, a different kind of panic set in.

“Oh, shit - I have to look good,” he muttered.

You laughed. “When do you not look good?”

But he wasn’t listening anymore. He was already sprinting towards the closet.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

An hour later, you were sitting in the living room with Jiyong’s mother, both of you waiting.

“Jiyong, hurry up!” you called.

“Five more minutes!” came the muffled reply.

You sighed, exchanging a look with his mom. “He never does this when it’s just us three going out. Usually, he throws on a hat and calls it a day.”

His mom laughed, petting Zoa who had made herself cozy on her lap. “That’s because he’s always focused on dressing the little one.”

True.

Speak of the devil - Diva suddenly appeared, climbing onto the couch beside you, still clutching Jiyong’s phone. You looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t break in yet?”

Diva huffed. “No.”

Before you could respond, Jiyong finally emerged.

And damn.

Even Diva blinked at him in surprise.

He had actually styled his hair for once, ditching the headscarves and caps. He was in a sleek, fitted suit - just casual enough not to be stiff, but tailored enough to highlight all the right things.

You ran your eyes over him. “That’s my husband.” you murmured quietly.

Jiyong smirked at your heated gaze, adjusting his tie. “Like what you see, jagi?” he then checked his watch. "Oh, we are really late. Right, Appa needs that back please, Princess."

He signalled for your daughter to hand over the device.

Diva, however, was not impressed.

She suddenly clung to your arm. “No go,” she whined, her voice small.

You knew if Jiyong left his phone behind, she wouldn't bat an eyelid at your absence.

Jiyong frowned, completely overlooking her ploy. He pouted and ran a gentle hand over her head. “Aw, it's ok my baby, we’re just going out for dinner. You’ll have fun with Halmeoni.”

She pouted harder.

Jiyong looked so close to caving, so you did what any responsible mother would do - you exchanged the phone for a cookie.

Instantly, her priorities shifted. “Bye-bye,” she mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate chip goodness.

Jiyong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s so easy to bribe.”

You smiled, looping your arm through his as you hooked a Chanel bag onto your shoulder. “I'll admit, she gets that one from me."

He told his mother to send updates immediately, then, with one last longing look at his daughter, followed you out the door.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The restaurant was beautiful, all dim lighting and elegant decor. You and Jiyong were seated in a private booth, finally able to relax and just be.

Halfway through your drinks, his phone buzzed.

Jiyong immediately perked up, flipping it over to show you a picture his mother had sent.

“Ohh,” he cooed. “She's so perfect. Look at her! We need another one, Jagi.”

You smiled at his words whilst he held the phone out, proudly showing you the pictures of your daughter.

“Okay,” you said simply.

There was a beat of silence.

Then -

Jiyong’s phone slipped from his hand, landing directly into the bread basket.

“…What?” he asked, voice slightly lower than usual.

You picked up his phone, shaking off the crumbs before setting it back on the table. “I said okay. Let's have another baby.”

Jiyong looked like he had short-circuited. “Really?”

You nodded, keeping your expression neutral. “I don’t see why not. My tour is over, and even though yours is about to start - by the time a baby would be here, it’d be finished.”

He stared at you, mouth opening and closing, before slowly breaking into a huge, giddy grin. His eyes crinkled and you saw the beautiful smile of your daughter in his face.

His brows then scrunched as he mentally did the calculations.

“Wait, but... that means, we- we can start trying tonight?”

You smirked, swallowing a sip of wine. “Sure.”

Jiyong shot up in his seat, immediately raising his hand. “Can we get the bill, please - ”

“Jiyong.”

He paused.

You arched an eyebrow. “Let’s actually order some food first?”

His shoulders slumped, sitting himself down again. “Right. Yeah. Food.”

The moment the waiter left with a confused bow, you picked up your menu, scanning the options. Across from you, Jiyong did the same - or so you thought.

Peeking over the top, you caught him staring, chin resting lazily on his hand, lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

Your breath caught. “What?”

His smirk deepened. “Nothing.”

You huffed, hiding behind the menu again, but the weight of his gaze didn’t waver. You could feel it, the heat of it rolling over you, curling under your skin.

“You’re staring,” you murmured, trying to focus on the words in front of you.

“I'm admiring my wife. My beautiful wife.” His voice was soft but deliberate, like a secret only for you.

Your fingers gripped the menu tighter. The way he was looking at you - it felt like the early days, when every glance from him left you dizzy, when every word was a tease wrapped in honey.

You swallowed, lowering your menu once more - just enough to meet his eyes.

Big mistake.

He was still smirking, but now his gaze was darker, his foot nudging against yours under the table, trapping it.

“Jiyong,” you warned, but your voice came out softer than intended. "Focus on your menu."

“I already know what I want.”

Heat shot up your spine.

He stretched lazily in his seat, running his fingers along the rim of his glass. His voice dropped, rich and teasing. “I like hearing you say you want another baby.”

Your throat went dry. “Oh?”

He nodded, tilting his head, studying you. “It means you want me.”

You inhaled sharply, pulse thrumming in your ears. “Well it does take two."

His smirk was all confidence, all slow-burning heat.

“Remember when we made our first?” he murmured, foot dragging up your calf, slow and deliberate. You shivered.

Of course you remembered. You spent days locked in that hotel room unknowingly - but knowingly - making your first child.

Your menu was suddenly very uninteresting.

Jiyong leaned forward slightly, elbow on the table, fingers toying with his bottom lip as he watched you. “You sure you want to sit here and eat?”

You exhaled through your nose, willing yourself to stay composed. “I’m hungry.”

“So am I,” he mused.

You narrowed your eyes. “For food.”

“Mm.” He licked his lips. “Something like that.”

Your stomach flipped. “You’re impossible.”

His voice dipped lower. “You love it.”

You did.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

he really looked at that first pic of diva and went, yes - we need 10 more

but he won. war is over... well - i'll get into that soon

For now, dedicated to all my bigbang fam that need some love right now :

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford

[rafes-slut]

can u write sm abt rafe making reader use a stuffie to keep quiet while theyr doing the deed in her bedroom? pretty please 😋

Silencing You Softly

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You

Warnings: Smut, explicit sexual content, use of a stuffed toy for muffling, slight exhibitionism risk (house full of people), dirty talk, teasing, dominance, overstimulation, soft/dom!Rafe undertones, minor choking, possessive behavior, oral (f receiving), aftercare. 18+ ONLY

The house was never quiet. Not once. Not with people constantly around, coming and going — Topper’s laugh echoing through the halls, Sarah’s voice carrying from downstairs, the bass of some speaker vibrating the walls every damn hour of the day. Rafe’s place might’ve been big, but privacy was rare. And somehow, even knowing that, you ended up here — tangled in his sheets, your legs wrapped tight around his waist, gasping his name way too loud for anyone’s comfort.

“Shhh, baby,” Rafe murmured against your throat, breath hot, voice low and dangerous. “You want them to hear you?” His hand clamped over your mouth, but it did nothing to stop the moan that slipped through the cracks of his fingers.

You felt his smirk, that cocky little twitch at the corner of his lips as he pulled back, eyes heavy-lidded and dark with mischief. His blonde hair was messy, sticking to his forehead, and he looked feral — like he was thriving on the risk, on the idea of someone hearing the way he had you unraveling under him.

“I can’t help it,” you whimpered, already teetering on the edge again, your body slick with sweat, back arching into him as his hips rolled slow but deep. “Feels so—fuck, Rafe—”

He didn’t stop. Just drove into you harder, the rhythm relentless, each thrust hitting so deep you could barely think straight.

“Yeah?” His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place like you could escape him — like you’d ever want to. “Too much, huh? My needy girl can’t stay quiet for me.”

You shook your head, lips parted, your eyes fluttering shut, but then—

“Uh-uh. Look at me,” he growled, hand trailing up your stomach, palm splaying over your throat just enough to make your breath hitch. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. You gonna wake the whole damn house like this?”

A broken moan slipped from your mouth, high-pitched, desperate, and Rafe paused — just for a second — leaning over the side of the bed.

You barely registered what he was doing until he grabbed your favorite stuffed animal — the little plush bunny you always brought with you when you stayed the night. Your face flushed immediately, heart racing.

“Rafe—”

He grinned, teeth catching his bottom lip, eyes glinting with wicked intent. “Told you I’d find a use for this one day.”

Before you could protest, he shoved it gently between your lips, the soft fabric muffling your next moan as he thrust back into you hard, making you cry out around the stuffed toy.

“There we go,” he purred, watching you with possessive satisfaction. “Much better. Quiet for me now, yeah?”

Your hands gripped his arms, nails dragging down his biceps as you nodded, eyes glazed, body burning.

Rafe lost it then, picking up the pace, fucking you deep into the mattress while your muffled moans filled the room, the sounds of skin meeting skin echoing despite the loud music downstairs. He watched every reaction, every twitch, every helpless buck of your hips, and he loved it — loved how loud you were for him, how desperate you sounded even with your mouth stuffed full.

“You’re mine,” he groaned, sweat dripping down his chest as he leaned down, kissing your neck, biting at your ear. “No one gets to hear you like this — just me.”

You nodded again, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure, and when you came, it hit like a wave — sudden, intense, your whole body shaking. Rafe fucked you through it, whispering filth against your skin, your muffled screams only fueling his need as he chased his own release.

When he finally collapsed on top of you, breathless and flushed, he reached up to pull the stuffed animal from your mouth, tossing it aside with a satisfied smirk.

“You’re so fuckin’ loud, babe,” he muttered, brushing hair from your sweaty face, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. “Good thing you’ve got me to keep you in line.”

You couldn’t even speak, your voice hoarse, your limbs jelly, but Rafe didn’t care. He gathered you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, the wild heat of moments ago settling into something quiet, something tender.

“You alright?” he whispered, voice softer now. “Was I too rough?”

You shook your head, resting your cheek against his chest, still trying to catch your breath.

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, fingers trailing lazy circles on your back. “Next time,” he murmured, lips at your temple, “we try it without the house full of people… but I’m keepin’ that stuffie close, just in case.”

[cherie-doll]

COD men with a witchy girlfriend that also dresses like Stevie Nicks? Like I have random tarot decks or crystals that appear. I tend to attract crows, cats, and snakes mostly. Herbs, jars, bones, etc all around the house.

i love her style sm <3

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: You're Their Witchy Girlfriend

☽〇☾ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He knew how much you loved wearing flowy, comfortable clothes, it was just so convenient and nice to wear in any weather! You couldn't go out without your shawl, in cool weather it was useful to cover yourself with, and it was useful when the glaring sun was out in summer to provide some shade

When interacting with an animal, he found it endearing when you would greet it as if it were another person, many times they followed you too, and he would sigh when he'd find a new animal sitting on the window sill watching him

For some reason, he thought you were trying not to be a burden to him when you only went to thrift stores to buy your clothes, until you explained to him it was easier to find vintage stuff there, not only for your clothes but also for decorating your home

Picking out gifts for you is easy, you love anything given with love because you care more about the intentions/symbolism rather than the price of the item, but he also takes his time in choosing what to give you

Ghost

You like making some of your own clothing, simple stuff like adding some extra flair to your blouses or skirts, you even repair them too, and you've taught Simon to sew as well, it's comical to see a large man like him sitting down on a nice, sunny afternoon in the living room with the window open letting the breeze in and holding a needle so small between his big fingers

And you fondly gaze at him as you watch him sew, turns out he can patch up your clothes better than you do!

You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, so you always ask for his protection every day he goes out, or every time he has to go on a mission because he's the best thing that's happened to you and you can't imagine losing the one person who understands you best

You're sort of into amulets and other things that can grant protection to a person, Simon used to not believe in them but after seeing how good life can feel when you're with a person who shows you the beauty in life, he doesn't mind standing still as you stitch a protection sigil into his jacket

Soap

He thought he was hitting on a whimsigoth chick when he saw you out in the street walking with your bell sleeved top and patterned maxi skirt, he asked for your number and you surprisingly gave him yours, soon he found himself sitting next to you at a park on a date

You always carried a tote bag where ever you went, it always made a lot of noise when you walked, sounded like rocks in there or something, and when you would in reach into your bag when he was trying to pay for something he'd stop you and assure you he'd never let you pay, except you weren't planning on paying

You just have a bag of crystals in there and your tarot cards you like bringing along, never know when someone is going to need a reading, right?

He remembers the first time he came over to your place and it matched with your vibe, dried flowers/plants tied and hanging to the wall, leather-bound books on wooden bookshelves with glass bottles and even more, larger crystals

He noticed you took a liking to anything relating to the moon or sun, so he actually bought you a matching couples moon and sun bracelet, he let you pick which one you wanted

Gaz

He's always interested in what you're into, asks questions and isn't afraid in partaking in any small "rituals" you do, mostly habits really that you have, like petting every black cat you see or leaving something shiny for crows to take

There was a time crows started following him because of the things he'd leave out for them that he got scared and ran all the way home and hid until you came back, you explained that they likely just recognized him as the person who gave them food and other things

One of your favorite things to do is trying to foretell the future, you look for signs in every day life, or even just trusting your intuition when you get a certain feeling, you and Kyle will sit on the steps of your porch and observe the sky, there's a murder of crows that like to perch on a tree in the backyard

There's always a different number of them, not always the same amount, but you've heard that counting crows is a way of foretelling the future, today you counted three just as Kyle was feeling for that small box containing a ring in his pocket :)

Roach

I like to think he also loves to collect animals :), he enjoys coming along with you and foraging deep into the woods near riverbanks helping you look for skeletons and any other bones, secretly it's because he likes finding small animals like lizards or cicadas

He loves the idea that when you place an animal skull on a pile of items their spirit will protect that specific stack, he imagines that each animal bone/skull around the house has their items that they like to protect and hang near

You two love visiting the local park on weekends and taking romantic walks together, during these talks some animals might follow you

He remembers when he took you on a date out and every cat you passed would meow and come up to you, he just assumed you were really good with cats, until it started happening with crows and even snakes

Now your little companions make you both smile fondly seeing them come to greet you, you even let a cat follow you back home and couldn't bear to leave the poor thing outside in the cold :(, of course you'd bring it in! They now have their own little cushion to sleep on and get spoiled <3

Alejandro

It's literally in his blood to be into the macabre, most of his traditions revolve around that anyways, so it was no surprise that he gets along with you perfectly

He loves the herbs you have around the house because it reminds him of the elderly ladies that he used to see when he was a kid, he remembered most people avoided them, but others frequently visited them, he always viewed them as powerful and full of wisdom and knowledge

He'll listen to whatever subject interests you the most, you often talk to yourself and if he so happens to walk into a room while you're dusting the shelves or placing a new crystal and you're having a conversation with yourself, he'll just walk by like it's nothing, he knows you tend to do that

You like to grown your own herbs and plants so you won't always have to go out and buy more because now you'll never run out, it used to be Alejandro who was sent on these errands lol

Some people still talk bad about you sometimes, saying you make them feel uncomfortable, but little do they know, you leave a lemon out whenever they come by to "absorb their negative energy" and when they leave.. the lemon is brown.. how strange, something about them must be off

Alejandro was never afraid nor put off by you, you're the most alluring person he's ever seen and from the very moment he met you he had been attracted

Rudy

You've always had an air of elegance and mystery around you, people were afraid to wrong you but couldn't figure out what was so unsettling about you, contrary to that you were quite friendly to those who built up the confidence to get to know you

Rodolfo was the one to discover this and he's the one who frequently experiences your sweet side since he's your boyfriend, you'd actually be pretty lost without him! You tend to misplace your cards, crystals and other things and he's the one who patiently reminds you where to look

He helps you especially when you're in the kitchen, you like to make your kitchen space a nice and cozy area where you can be yourself, mostly focusing on herbs, you love tea and can't go a day without it! Rodolfo even learned how to make your favorite and every morning he gets up before you do to prepare it, so by the time you wake up there's a warm cup of tea by your bedside <3

You and him love cooking together, but you often misplace the notebook with all your recipes and other thoughts you write in them, sometimes he'll find the notebook but if he doesn't you have to turn to the recipes you've written in your notes app on your phone

Not all witchy people can afford or manage to keep glass bottles in their homes if they're clumsy, so you've turned to recycling plastic bottles and buying durable tupperware to store dried herbs or potions, Rodolfo helps you write what they're for in sharpie and organize them on shelves

Phillip Graves

The first time he noticed you, you were doing a tarot reading for another Shadow, he himself got curious and asked for one, you looked him straight in the eye and said "these cards mean we should go out on a date" (they did not mean that at all)

He was eager to learn more about you, he regarded your behavior not as strange but as... whimsical and it was honestly refreshing for him, you smiled at children and pets/animals, you believed those little pure souls needed all the positivity they could get before the negativity of this world got to them

You couldn't have asked for a more supportive boyfriend than Phillip, he remembers all your little quirks and habits and tries to imitate him best he can, heck he even incorporates some of them into his daily life!

Whenever he takes you on vacation he KNOWS he must stop at a shop that sells crystals or incense knowing how much you love that, you go insane in there and he has no limits knowing how happy it makes you, just stands, waiting next to the cashier smiling fondly as he sighs, ready to pull out his card whenever you're done picking out what you want

Makarov

You'd think he couldn't care less but you're WRONG, he loves bothering you all the time knowing you've got good intuition and thinks you know what everything means, assumes you can interpret his dreams, "I had a dream what does it mean?" "I'm not Joseph the fu-"

As time has gone by, he's gotten to know you better, instead of bouquets of fresh flowers, he started gifting you dried flowers which you love a lot more because you can keep them for wayyy longer, you keep it on display around your home and it brings you lots of happiness when you look at them

He also buys you a vase for every time he gifts you a bouquet, preferably ones that match your aesthetic, even though you're thankful for anything that he gets you, it's even sweeter when he pays attention to these things because it shows he truly cares

When building your new house, he came to you asking how you wanted the interior to look like, told you not to hold back and you did not hold back at all, he fully trusted the decisions you were making and the final product had a dark cottagecore vibe to it during the night but spring-like fairy vibe during the day

You can fully incorporate your desired vibes and express yourself as you wish because he's there to make it possible <3

Keegan

He used to always be the kind of guy to never really bother or pay much attention to certain things, but you were all about the small details, not obsessing but noticing, he wanted to be like that, he saw how much joy it brought you in your interactions with nature and small, inanimate things

You would talk to anything, not just yourself because it were as if you were conversing with someone, he asked you once why you did it and you replied that it's a habit that you developed as a child, which is common, but never "grew" out of it, you were sure someone listened even if you thought you were alone

He walks into your room to stare at the stacks of cards, crystals, potion bottles, an alarming amount of bones you found when foraging in the woods, etc..

Speaking of bones, you always take a bag when going on hikes, you'll be walking with Keegan hand in hand and suddenly he doesn't feel you beside him anymore, you've veered off the path to dig up a bone you saw sticking out of the dirt, and if you're lucky to find a whole deer decomposing you get overexcited and take the big container you made Keegan load up in his truck

Of course, you ask the deer or animal for permission to harvest their bones before taking them, Keegan can only stand there and watch, slightly concerned for you, but you'll make him help you clean the bones when you get home

König

He's never delved much into the same things you have but he tries his best to comply and make you happy, you love crafting, almost everything in your home is handmade by you, you believe the effort you put into those things benefit you and your home, providing positive energy

There's certain herbs you can never run out of: rosemary, sage, lavender, etc.. you try to grow your own but let's say you don't have much luck with plants, you've tried everything and you can't figure out what you're doing wrong, you decide to tell König and to your surprise he says to let him handle it

Those herbs are growing nicely and quite healthy when you decide to test him, who knew he could be so good with them, you let him take care of the rest of your plants while you focus on the more "dirty" work which is the process of cleaning your bones, you have to bury them to let the bugs eat the flesh and then dig the bones back up later to check up on them until you can clean them yourself

You also love buying and hanging tapestries up, preferably those with mushrooms on them, but you have a hard time because unlike someone you aren't super tall and pulling up a chair with a wobbly leg isn't the safest option... König rushes over just in time to help you down and instead you sit back and tell him where to put the tapestry up

And when he's done? You got four more you want to hang up in other rooms, but he's willing to do anything for you

Horangi

God, he just loves loves LOVES your style, on some days it can range from long and flowy maxi dresses that are comfortable and perfect for simple chores around the house or it can be bell bottoms with a shirt tied in the front

Despite how often he scolds you for this but you like walking barefoot around the house, in your backyard too when the weather is warm and you want some sun or even if it's raining and you want to enjoy the rain, he's afraid you'll catch a cold or step on something that'll cut your skin

When on bookstore dates, you're always drawn to the book section that features books about spells, or related to witchcraft, anything that can be useful information for your home

Often, when a tough decision comes your way you like playing with a pendulum, you often stay up late at night, letting your thoughts just run rampant within your mind as that pendulum swings and you sit in a pensive state, sometimes it can even help you if you're feeling anxious because just watching it swing back and forth helps to get your mind away from negative thoughts

Nikto

He never outright asked nor assumed if you were a witch, I mean, you resembled one.. but if asked he could never place a finger on it, he didn't care either

Never really paid much mind to what you were up to most of the time, barely even questioned you when you'd stay up late at night or get overly excited when it was the full moon, he noticed you always marked the lunar cycle on your calendar, you kept up with it regularly, also didn't say much about that either

You love burning candles and other herbs to keep your home clean, he likes coming home to the smell as he's grown accustomed to it, feels it as welcoming even and always thinks of you if he detects it elsewhere

You love being out in nature like him, you two love veering off into the woods and making your own paths to explore, you do it to connect with nature as you deeply resonate with it, he observes you and it's almost like seeing you be in your true element, always brings a flashlight or a lantern knowing that not even the sun going down will keep you from playing in the woods at night

You say that as long as you're respecting the wildlife, you have nothing to fear

[thewritingrowlet]

The Trembling Heart, ft. FIFTY FIFTY Chanelle

tags: first time, creampie

length: 6k+

author's note: I tried a more show-not-tell approach with this—let me know if you like it.

-

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet your men.

“We’re going to head to Pioneer Heights this morning. We will be taking over evacuating the earthquake victims, and since most of the big rubbles have been cleared a few hours ago, we won’t use as many heavy equipment this time.” As you speak, you notice the way some men are getting uneasy; your best guess is they have loved ones they haven’t heard from since the event of the quake. “I won’t waste more of your time; you already know what to do—let’s roll, gentlemen.”

After putting on your helmet, you get in the passenger seat of one of the rescue trucks. “Captain,” the man holding the wheel calls to you. “I’ll be honest, I really want to look for my wife and child.” You ask if he knows where they were around the event of the disaster, and based on the phone locator app he has, they were in the downtown area when the earthquake struck.

“I understand that you’re concerned, but we already have a ton of people there; your family will be found in no time,” you attempt to assure him, placing your hand on his shoulder for good measure. The man nods slowly, his eyes remain fixed on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he sighs, “alright, let’s head to Pioneer.”

Before long, you and your convoy are on your way to Pioneer Heights, and it’s only a couple of blocks away before you reach the edge of the area. While it’s true that heavy machinery has cleared most of the heavy wreckage, there are still some high piles you and your crew need to get through. “Alright, let’s get off here and spread around.” The men on the back of the truck catch the signal as you get off, following your gesture and doing the same. “Four hours of search and one hour of break for two shifts for now.”

You let your crew spread around the area while you opt to take on this sizeable pile of ruins in front of what used to be a high-rise apartment building. “Time to test this new toy.” You pull out a ground-penetrating radar that was recently developed by a high-tech contractor, and you’re glad to see that it allows you to get an idea of what’s trapped underneath all of this mess. “That… looks like a person.” As you put your ears against the rubble, rhythmic, nearly inaudible knocks are heard—only a person is capable of making such rhythm.

“Someone’s here!”

 With the help of a fellow rescuer, you lift the big debris, putting your backs to it to free this trapped person who turns out to be a woman around your age; her hair is a mess, her body is bruised and cut, and her clothes are damaged in various spots. “Let’s get you out of here, miss.”

“M-my brother,” she mutters weakly. “F-find him.” You nod firmly. “Of course, it’s what we’re here for.” You help her get on a stretcher, and as she gets carried away to receive medical help, you turn your focus back on the pile. “Alright, mister brother, where are you.”

After a few minutes of scanning, another void is detected in the pile. “I hope that’s him,” you think. Since the pile he’s stuck under consists of smaller pieces, you can dig through it yourself, and before long, you see a glimpse of skin through a tiny gap. “Someone’s here!” you announce again. You focus on pushing the rocks aside until more of the victim’s body can be seen. “Hold on, mister; help is coming,” you say to him.

“Ah, fuck—someone get me a drill, please.”

You stick your hand out, and a handheld drill is handed over to you by one of your crew members. You use the chisel-like tip to break the boulder into smaller pieces that are easier to handle. Soon, there is enough room to pull the man out of the mess, and based on the similar facial features, you guess that this is the brother of the woman from earlier. “You’ll be tended to by the medics now, mister,” you say to the weak, out-of-oxygen man.

-

A few days after the evacuation operation, you’re invited by one of the doctors of a nearby hospital to visit the recovering evacuees. She says that you should wear your duty attire, since that will likely help them recognize you.

You arrive at the hospital in your high-vis orange operative uniform, donning a radio on your chest for some extra appearance points. A doctor wearing a mask welcomes you at the front desk. “Good morning, Captain Morris.” You shake her hand firmly. “Good morning to you too, doctor.” As she guides you to your destination, the doctor, whose last name is Arnot (based on the name tag on her chest), proceeds to ramble about how everyone at the hospital has been working restlessly to tend to the survivors. “Doing God’s work as always, Doctor Arnot.”

The doctor stops at a slightly ajar door at the end of the second-floor hallway. “Let’s start here.” She opens the door for you and guides you in to see this survivor. “Miss Moon, this is the SAR operative you wanted to meet.” Your heart skips a beat. “Wanted to meet me, hey?” you thought.

The doctor soon leaves, giving you and this Moon lady a chance to catch up in private. “Hello, good morning,” you wave at her with a smile, “my name is Morris, Gerald Morris, from the Search and Rescue unit.” She returns the smile twice as sweetly. “Chanelle, Chanelle Moon,” she introduces herself. “Please, have a seat.”

You take her invitation, dragging a chair to sit close to her. “How are you, Miss Moon?” Her lips curve into a warm smile. “I’ve been well, and so has been my brother, all thanks to you.” Your cheeks warmed, and a flush crept up your neck thanks to her praise. “I don’t mean to brag, miss, but I was just doing my job.” Chanelle chuckles. “Sure, but you did your job so well, and for that, I’m thankful.”

Chanelle asks if you have time to spare to listen to her. “Well, yes, but if duty calls, I’m out of here.” Her face turns serious for a moment. “Oh, are there still evacuation operations?” You tell her that there are still open reports of missing loved ones submitted by the people, and the SAR department is busy turning every rock to find them. She nods, seemingly deep in thoughts. “Well, I wish all of you good luck. If there’s anything I can help you with, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” You thank her for the kind words and intentions.

“Yeah, that’s enough talk about work—do you have any other thing to talk about?”

“Not really, but I still would love to have you here with me,” Chanelle’s beautiful smile makes a return, “so, would you stay for a while?”

You offer a tentative smile as you think about the hidden intentions and unspoken words, and eventually, you decide to reply, “I will be honest, I don’t want to make us a subject of gossip by lingering around for too long.” Chanelle sighs as a flicker of disappointment crosses her features. “You’re… brutally frontal,” she says.

“I mean… I can give you my number, if that’s okay with you.”

Chanelle chuckles at your offer. “Are you interested or are you not, because I’m getting mixed signals here.” Her words have you scratching the back of your neck awkwardly. “I don’t know, really—I do know I enjoy being with you, though.” The way you’re saying these words oh-so-brazenly makes you think you’re not in control of yourself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so presumptuous,” you try to save yourself. Chanelle shakes her head. “You weren’t, so please, write down your number somewhere.”

There’s no paper or pen in the hospital room, so you head out to the nurse’s desk to get one. “Excuse me, can I get a pen and paper, please?” Lucky for you, the nurse doesn’t ask any question; she just hands you what you’re asking for. With them in hand, you return to Chanelle’s room.

As you write down the digits of your number, your satellite phone rings, and because of the panic, your handwriting becomes rushed and ugly towards the end. “I’m sorry, but I’m needed somewhere else,” you say. She nods in understanding. “Of course—save them all, tiger.” You and Chanelle look at each other, as if waiting for one party to say something first. Her chuckle tells you that she has nothing else to say. “Right, well,” you hand her the paper with your number on it, “see you soon, Chanelle.”

-

Around a week has passed since the earthquake, and the city is slowly getting back on its feet. Shops and offices are reopening, remnants of debris are getting cleared, and sirens are heard less often. Compare this peacefulness to the chaos from a few days ago when things are a mess; it’s almost fascinating how quickly people move on. While you enjoy such peace and sitting around in your office, it’s getting… boring.

So, to combat this boredom that’s getting unbearable, you decide to head out of your office, and since it’s close to downtown—thank God for that promotion two years ago—you don’t have to walk far to reach civilization. You make your way to this minimalistic coffee shop called Memories at The Intersection that is located at the intersection opposite you, hoping to find one of two things: something that can warm your body or someone to chat with.

Your eyes pick up nothing extravagant inside the shop; wooden furniture is spread around the interior, the barista is at the back, and there are stools going around the counter. You approach the counter while looking at the no-frill menu shown on the overhead TV.

“Hello, welcome to Memories at The Intersection. What would you like to have, officer?” You have a habit when visiting a new coffee shop to test its quality, which is to get a large iced americano and a large latte with no sugar. “Of course, that would be $10 for both.”

You pull out your wallet from your pocket, and that’s when the woman sitting at the counter next to you says something. “No, he’s with me; I’ll pay for his stuff.” Without looking at her, you (politely) insist on paying yourself—the woman insists back, though. “Please, that’s the least I can do for someone who saved my life.”

Your gaze leaves your wallet and moves towards this woman, and your heart skips a beat. “Chanelle? What are you doing here?” She chuckles. “I mean, this place is mine.” You see the barista blushing at the movie-like scene that is unfolding before her eyes, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Well, isn’t this just convenient.”

Chanelle invites you to join her in her room upstairs, and you take the offer without thinking twice. “Send his orders upstairs, Athena,” Chanelle says to the barista as you leave with her. “Oh, and be sure to knock first—don’t walk in on us while we’re… talking.” Heat creeps up to your cheeks due to her suggestive words. “Of course, Miss Moon,” Athena says.

Chanelle takes you to her private space that almost feels like a living room at someone’s house. “Sorry about the mess, but nonetheless, welcome to my office, Gerald.” You break out a laugh. “Believe me, baby, my office is much messier than yours.” She turns around and looks at you straight in the eyes. “Baby, huh? You’ve gotten comfortable with me, haven’t you, SAR Operative Gerald Morris?” You slap your own mouth for letting the endearment slip out. “My, I’m so sorry, that was very rude of me.” Chanelle smiles sheepishly. “Oh, it’s fine—I mean, I would be lying if I wasn’t attracted to you.”

You’re stuck in a stupor. “She’s attracted to me, huh,” you ask yourself. Chanelle snaps her fingers in front of you. “C’mon, it’s not the time to lose focus.” She turns around after getting you unstuck, but her steps are halted when you catch her wrist in your hand. “What—” Before she can finish her sentence, a fleeting peck lands on her lips. “Thank you for everything, Chanelle.” She licks her lips, savoring the taste you left on them. “Sure, Gerald,” she smiles warmly, “thank you for everything too—I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

After easing the tension between the two of you, Chanelle makes her way towards her desk. “What’s that for,” you ask, pointing at the microphone that’s fixed on a stand. “Singing, of course,” she answers, excitement woven in her voice. You ask if she’s down to sing right now, but she says no; she’s not in the mood and isn’t feeling well enough to sing. “I will sing for you next time, though.”

Chanelle sighs deeply as her butt lands on her chair. “Gerald,” she calls to you. “Can I ask some things about your work?” You headed out of your office to take a break from thinking about work, but Chanelle wants to talk about work—eh, whatever; let’s entertain her for now. “Yeah, sure.”

“What was the most difficult operation in your career?”

“Physically or mentally?”

Chanelle pauses momentarily.

“Both.”

You take a few deep breaths as you formulate an answer for her. “Saving that drowned child was… very rough,” you reveal. Her features soften as she imagines what it must have been like for you. “Drowned child, huh? Can I ask why it was difficult?” You nod. “He was the only child of a couple who had been childless for 13 years.” Chanelle stays silent, giving you the chance to keep talking if you wish. “Talking more about the operation would kill the mood, so I’ll stop here.”

It seems that she regrets asking that question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go that deep right out the gate.” You close your eyes as you try to shake off the resurfacing images from that operation. “Yeah, well,” you sigh heavily, “that mission was both successful and unsuccessful at the same time.”

Some knocks are heard from the door, and you get on your feet to answer it. “No, no, let me,” she says, opting to answer it herself. Chanelle returns to you with your orders in her hands. “Here,” she hands them over to you, “let me know if you like it.” You first take a sip of the iced americano. “Pretty good,” you say. Chanelle lightly smacks you on the shoulder. “If you wanted to test us, at least do it properly—get a pour-over or something like that,” she says. Your cheeks turn red as you chuckle. “Sorry, I just like iced americano a lot.”

She then urges you to try the sugar-less latte, and your comment is the same as the americano. “Ugh, you’re so annoying—y’know, we should have a coffee date one day; I’ll teach you everything about coffee.” There is an opening to be bold here. “So, you’re saying that you want to see me again?” Chanelle, having been caught slipping, bites her bottom lip. “Maybe I do.”

As you enjoy the coffee and Chanelle’s company, rain starts pouring out of the night sky, falling hard right from the start. “Should’ve ordered something hot,” you blurt, thus causing Chanelle to laugh. “I mean, we have the best cappuccino in the city, if I do say so myself.” “Oh, yes, please,” you take her up on the offer right away. Chanelle calls the barista downstairs with the landline on her desk, ordering on your behalf. “Hey, uh, do you want some snacks too?” You say yes, so Chanelle orders a mixed snack platter for you. “Alright, they’ll be here soon.”

Before long, a cup of cappuccino and a plate of fried snacks appear before your eyes, delivered by the same barista from earlier. “You’re going to need to pay if you keep this up,” she quips. “Oh, don’t worry about it; I’ll even pay interests if I must.”

You take a piece of potato wedge from the plate and dip it into the sauce. As you munch on it, Chanelle looks at you intently while leaning against her propped-up arm. “I like garlic, and I hope you do too,” she comments. You show her two thumbs up. “Awesome sauce—just the perfect amount of garlic.”

Chanelle leaves her chair and joins you on the couch. “Do you mind sharing?” she asks. “No, not at all; have at it.” She replicates your gesture of picking up a piece of potato wedge and dipping it in the sauce, but she doesn’t look as satisfied as you. “Something’s off…” Chanelle trails off as she thinks about it. “Is it, though, because I think this is good?” Her forehead creases. “You don’t think this tastes bitter?” Well, you do, but you thought it was part of the charm. “Yeah, no, it’s not supposed to be like this.”

Chanelle offers you to get another sauce, but you decline, saying that you like this one despite the bitterness. She scoffs. “You like bitter? Is your life not bitter enough?” You chuckle a bit. “My life isn’t bitter now that you’re here with me.” She smacks your arm. “Oh, aren’t you the charmer,” she counters.

The satellite phone in your back pocket buzzes, a call to get back to reality. “Ah, shit,” you say in your head. “Not now,” you think. “Hello, this is Morris,” you greet the caller, forcing a calm, professional tone. “A landslide? Where?” A nervous shiver runs down Chanelle’s spine as she listens to the conversation you’re having; the thought of getting caught in a landslide triggers her trauma of being caught in an earthquake. Not only that, but the way you shift away from her does nothing to ease her nervousness.

“Hey, I—” The tenseness in her body is clear for you to see; her knuckles that are gripping her knees are white, and her gaze is long yet empty. “Chanelle, I’m sorry, but—” “Go, Gerald,” she says with urgency in her voice. “Do you need me to take you there?” You quickly consider the practical aspect of her offer, since your squad mates must have taken the truck. “Yes, please.”

Chanelle turns out to be quite the fast driver, zipping through traffic and cutting people off at every chance she gets. “Just a few kilometers to go, baby.” The endearing term flies out of your lips without restrictions—your mind is too occupied with thoughts of evacuating people out of the landslide.

As soon as the car stops, you quickly thank Chanelle for the help and sprint towards the evacuation site, not even bothering to put on a helmet first despite getting yelled at by your team members. “Then get me a damn helmet, why don’t you?” you bark back. Someone puts a helmet on your head from behind, and you make quick work with the strap, thus fixing it in place.

Chanelle steps out of her car after getting herself calm. Her gaze darts around, following your every movement as you scurry around the site. “C’mon, Gerald, save them like you saved me,” she thinks. She unconsciously steps closer towards the site, only stopping because a police officer reminds her to keep her distance. “Please, that’s my boyfriend,” she blurts. Insistent, the officer raises his hand, but his expressions are softening. “Your boyfriend is in safe hands, miss; these guys are the best we have,” the officer replies. Pride soars in her heart at the officer’s words. “Yeah, well, my boyfriend is the one with safe hands,” she says to herself, her eyes still stuck on you.

-

Time has passed by, and your legs finally give out, thus causing your butt to land on the rough asphalt. “Fuck, man.” Your chest heaves, each breath ragged and heavy. “W-water, please,” you say to a police officer who’s staring at you. With a firm nod, he turns around to find some water for you, and before long, you have a bottle of water in your hands. “T-thanks,” you say weakly.

“Gerald! Gerald, over here!” Chanelle’s voice cracks as she calls you over. You turn your head towards the source of the sound; Chanelle is waving her arm with fervor to get your attention. With a grunt, you gather your strength and walk towards her with heavy steps, dragging your legs along the way. You collapse near her, and Chanelle promptly gets down to her knees on the ground, her arms running on your body, trying to drive exhaustion away from your body. “You’ve done well, baby; you’ve done all you could,” she says, offering support and praise. Your eyes are closed as you nod. “T-thanks, baby.”

The blaring sounds of the ambulance siren pierce through the night, but they resemble the most comforting musical arrangement to your ears. “Yeah, take them,” you mutter weakly. Your racing heart gradually slows down as the sounds of the siren fade away, and now you’re able to open your eyes again.

“C-Chanelle,” you weakly lift your hand to reach her face, your voice barely audible, “t-thank you, seriously.” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over as she cups your dirty face. “No, baby, thank you—thank you for saving them,” she replies, her voice shaking from the emotions. The endearment wraps around your exhausted body like a warm blanket. “I’m sorry but let me catch my breath for a minute.”

“Baby, let me take you home—you look like you can’t even stand,” Chanelle offers you some help. You nod, grateful for her generous offer. “That… would be great, actually.” With her help, you lift your back off the ground and get in a sitting position. You then call one of your teammates over. “Wrap things up quickly and RTB,” you say to him. “Yes, sir,” he replies, leaving your side to spread the command around. After making sure that everyone gets the message, you shift your attention to Chanelle. “Alright, I-I think we can go home now.”

Chanelle wraps her arm around you, guiding you back towards her car. “You know,” she breaks the silence, “I’m so, so proud of you, baby—you were incredibly brave, you know.” Fighting the heat on your cheeks, you thank her for the supportive words. “Alright, I’ll take you home now, baby,” she says. “I promise you will have the best sleep tonight.”

You groan as you settle yourself into the passenger seat. “Oh, God, my back.” Chanelle looks at you, studying your expressions intently. “Patience, please—look, I’ll drive fast like earlier.” As the car starts rolling, you lean against the window, your eyes getting heavy. “I’ll… get some rest.”

-

Chanelle taps your forearm to wake you up. “Babe, we’re here,” she whispers softly. Sleepy you might be, but you know this isn’t the neighborhood you live in. “This is my place,” she confirms. “C’mon, I’ll help you inside.” You shake your head, determined to get yourself on your feet. “I’ll be just fine, baby,” you say, your voice heavy.

Once again, Chanelle puts her arm around you as she guides you around the interior of her house. “Look, that’s our destination right there,” she points at a closed door, and you’re relieved that you don’t have to go up some stairs.

Chanelle props you up on the edge of the bed. “Undress, baby,” she demands. “Don’t sleep in your uniform.” You pause as you’re hesitant to oblige, considering the type of dynamics you currently have with her. “I-I only have my boxers underneath this,” you say. She looks nervous to have you nearly naked in front of her, but it’s the best in her opinion. “Just… just do it, please,” she says, her voice firm yet tender.

You make quick work of your uniform, leaving them discarded on the floor by the bed. “Good, baby, now lie down for me,” she says. Chanelle's eyes widen slightly as she takes in the sight before her; the way the fabric of your boxers stretch with your every move steals her attention. “Not now, Chanelle—he doesn’t need it right now,” she tells herself, doing her best to resist the growing urge.

Fighting the hesitation in her head, Chanelle climbs onto the bed, hugging you from the side. “Oh my God, you’re hot.” You chuckle a little. “Excuse me?” She blushes at the realization of the ambiguous nature of her statement. “No, I… I didn’t mean it like that—your body is literally hot, Gerald.” A small laugh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I got what you meant,” you say, amusement drawn on your face.

-

Chanelle stirs awake when she feels you jolt out of nowhere. “Baby,” she calls to you in a whispered voice. Through her sleepiness and the darkness of the bedroom, she scans your body for signs of discomfort, and she finds plenty of them; your body is tense, your veins are popping under the skin of your neck, and your forehead is coated with cold sweat. Her heart clenches with worry as she touches your heaving chest, her hand trembling from the unease in her belly.

A tear rolls down her cheek as you keep shaking violently in your sleep. “G-Gerald,” Chanelle rubs your chest tenderly, “Gerald, please, it’s just a nightmare.” Her attempt at soothing you is futile; you’re still tossing your head around as if trying to dodge something. “Gerald, please, baby,” she voices her distress at your condition. In a moment of desperation, Chanelle shakes your whole body with all her might until you wake up.

“Gerald, just wake the fuck up already—please!”

“H-huh? W-what?”

Seeing you wake up, Chanelle falls limply onto your body, still unable to stop crying. “G-Gerald, y-you were having a nightmare, weren’t you, baby?” Your gaze roams the dim bedroom. “Y-yes, I-I think so,” you reply. She presses a kiss onto your chest. “Y-you’re safe with me, baby; y-you don’t have anything to worry about, trust me.” Your hand subconsciously lands on the small of her back just above her hips. “I-I’m sorry, baby; I… I didn’t mean to worry you like that.”

Chanelle’s sobs die down eventually, but her embrace isn’t losing its warmth at all. She snuggles closer while looking up at you. “Do you… want to talk about it?” You take a deep breath; talking about it will help ease the emotional strain. “I saw… people,” you begin, your voice shaky. “They were screaming, so desperate for help, but no matter how hard I tried, they just… they kept getting swallowed by the ground—I… I couldn’t save them.” Chanelle keeps her gaze while her fingers softly tap your chest as she listens to you, creating a safe space for your vulnerable self.

“You know what, though, baby,” she says in a loving, tranquilizing tone. “There are a ton of people out there who were so lucky to have you save them, and I’m one of those people.” Your mind goes back to the day you pulled her out of the rubble, comparing her looks then and now. “You were so… weak,” you mutter. Chanelle sighs at the cheerless memory. “I was holding on to dear life, and suddenly, you freed me from the debris. You’re a hero, Gerald—you’re my hero.”

Despite the dimness of the bedroom, Chanelle’s glassy eyes are clear for you to see. “I love you, Gerald—I want to be with you when nightmares invade your sleep.” You place your hand on hers, savoring the little electric shocks from the contact. “Nightmares won’t haunt me ever again, baby; they’ll be scared of you, my guardian.” A chuckle escape Chanelle’s lips as a tear cling onto her cheek. “No, that’s really cute, actually,” she says. “Now, let me take you to sleep again, Gerald.”

-

Chanelle, fighting the heaviness of her eyelids, looks around the bedroom that is subtly lit by the morning sun. She sighs in contentment as her body relaxes, the tension from the previous night melting away. She looks up towards you, and when your gaze suddenly meets hers, her heart skips a beat.

“Goodness me, I thought you were asleep.” Your lips curve into a smile. “I mean, I was—I woke up not long before you,” you say. Chanelle hides her face deep in the crook of your neck, filling her system with your scent. She silently wishes you had taken a shower before you slept, though.

“I won’t lie; I haven’t slept this good in a while.” “Must be because you slept next to your hero,” you quip, a hint of teasing in your voice. “Oh, yeah, absolutely,” she says. “It felt so safe, and I’m sure you felt the same.” You nod slowly, having no intention of disagreeing. “Thank you, baby, for everything you’ve done so far.” Her cheeks turn soft pink; hearing such an endearment feels rather overwhelming when it’s said in a relaxed situation compared to a heated one.

Chanelle slowly untangles her limbs from yours, gracefully sliding out of bed. “We should start the day soon—what if you’re called to duty again?” Your grin falters, but you quickly regain control of your expressions. “Well, you know the drill; if I get a call, I’m out of here.” She looks at you with a smile, her heart swelling with pride for what you do. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I hope you don’t get a call today; I think you deserve some rest.”

You keep your eyes on her swaying hips as she leaves you alone in bed. “Oh, by the way,” she suddenly turns around, catching you staring at her asset, “I’ll make you some coffee, give you a taste of perfection.” You chuckle, already excited at the prospect of having Chanelle make you coffee. “Surprise me, baby.”

After getting yourself together, you step out of the bedroom, and the smell of coffee invades your nose unforgivingly—it’s dark with a subtle hint of chocolate. “It smells much better than your coffee shop.” Chanelle laughs, amused by your comment. “It’s far better and more expensive than the stuff I sell there,” she says.

Before your eyes comes this warm, magical brew that might as well be a love potion, the steam carrying every bit of aroma. “Wow, the smell,” you take a quick sniff, “that’s just incredible.” Chanelle watches you intently, a wide smile spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling with pride and affection.

You close your eyes as you savor the flavors that linger on your tongue; the coffee is rich yet smooth, and the chocolaty edge gives more character and depth to it. In a moment of speechlessness, you let your body melt into the chair of the dining table, sighing in contentment over and over again.

“Wow—just wow,” you’re simply in awe, “can I buy this somewhere, because I would love to start every single day with this?” Chanelle pads over to you with her fists on her waist. “Why buy it if you can get it from me every morning, baby, hm?” Your cheeks are almost as hot as the cup of coffee. “Oh, stop, you’re going to make me burst.” Her fingers on your chin have your heart racing as she tilts your head upwards. “Now you feel more like a regular person than a no-bullshit SAR guy.” A smirk graces your features. “Do I also feel more like a boyfriend to you now, baby?” Amused, Chanelle pinches your cheek lightly. “Yeah, you totally do.”

“In fact…” Chanelle climbs onto your lap and places her hands on your shoulders, her crotch hovering dangerously close over yours. “You’re a very, very hot boyfriend to me right now.” A shiver runs down her spine as your warm exhale hits her skin. “Say, baby, am I attractive to you just like you are to me?” Chanelle asks, her eyes dark with want and need. “Yes, baby; you’re insanely attractive,” you say, slowly losing yourself in the intimacy.

“Then kiss me…”

Her eyes close as she leans closer towards you, and as soon as your lips meet hers, Chanelle sinks into your muscular frame, surrendering herself to your touch. “Gerald…” she says your name in a whisper. “Make love to me, please.” Chanelle presses her forehead against yours, her breaths short and rapid. “Please, Gerald, I-I’ll do anything as long as you’ll touch me.” She moans when a fleeting peck lands on her neck.

Chanelle reflexively wraps her legs tightly around your waist when you lift her into the air out of the blue. “Yes, Gerald, take me to the bedroom just like this.” As she’s being transported to the bedroom, Chanelle’s mind races with thoughts of feeling your hot skin against hers, and the prospect alone is making her more desperate and eager.

Chanelle gasps softly when her back lands on the soft mattress. “Chanelle, baby,” you whisper right into her ear. “I love you.” Tears pool in her eyes, blurring her vision. She has been dying to hear those three words from you. As simple as they are, those words carry a bigger, deeper meaning for her—a promise of something real, something everlasting. “I… love you too, Gerald,” she replies, her voice trembling from the emotions.

You reach for the first button of her pajama top, your fingers shaking slightly from the nerves. “Take your time, Gerald; we have all day.” A small smile spreads across your face. “Of course, baby,” you punctuate your words with a quick peck to her lips. One by one, her buttons become undone, thus allowing you to have a tantalizing peek of her skin.

When your palm grazes her bare belly, Chanelle’s breath hitches, her back arching instinctively. “Baby, fuck,” she mutters with a hint of impatience in her voice. “Why must you tease me this much—why can’t you just take me right away?” Your other hand cups her cheek, your thumb tracing small circles on her face. “I’m not teasing you, baby; I’m just basking in the intimacy.” Chanelle sighs as she rubs her face against your hand. “You’re right; I should be more patient,” she looks at you with a tender smile, “after all, you’re my beloved, not my fling.”

Chanelle places her hands on the waistband of your boxers, hooking her fingers on the inside. “I’m glad you didn’t have anything to wear—it’s way easier like this,” she quips. You chuckle, impressed by how she’s able to make such witty comments amidst the intimate nature of the encounter. “I suppose you deserve credit for your quick-thinking last night,” you reply with a sly grin.

The banter fades into the cool bedroom air, in its place blooms a more profound intimacy. “Gerald, can we…?” Without saying anything else, you quickly free yourself from the constraints of your boxers, and seeing you undress swiftly with intent makes Chanelle do the same, tossing her unbuttoned pajamas to the floor. Chanelle gasps when your bare skin meets hers. “Yes, finally—now, take me, Gerald,” she urges you, too eager to lose herself in the sauce of want only you can offer.

Chanelle’s eyes slam shut as your manhood slowly penetrates her, her breath rapid and ragged, as she savors the sensual stretch of her glistening, sensitive flesh. “G-Gerald—” Your lips capture hers in a passionate tangle, adding more intimacy to the hot encounter. “Mmph…” Chanelle moans into the kiss as your tongue wrestles with hers.

Your thrusts become deeper, stronger, your rhythm matching the frantic beat of your hearts. Her cries fill the room, echoing your own ragged breaths. Her nails dig into your back, urging you on, her body arching to meet your every move. You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the world narrowing down to this moment, this connection, this impending explosive release.

“Chanelle…”

With a soft whisper of her name, you come undone, flooding her insides with your hot essence.

“I love you, Chanelle—I love you so, so much.”

Tears, plenty of them, flow down her temples, leaving a wet trail in their wake. “Chanelle, what’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” you ask while your thumbs are busy wiping her tears. She shakes her head as she tries to force a smile, but her trembling lips betray her. “That was… my first time, Gerald, a-and… I’m so glad I did it with you.”

You pull her closer, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions: protectiveness, tenderness, and a profound sense of belonging. “Oh, baby, thank you for granting me this honor,” you say, your voice shaking because of the genuine feelings you have for her. “I… I will never take you for granted, Chanelle.” Chanelle wraps her limbs more tightly around your body, afraid that you’ll disappear if she lets go. “I-I love you, Gerald. I love you so much.”

-

The first rays of the morning sun fill the bedroom, providing a gentle, warm blanket for both of you. You slowly open your eyes, and the first thing your gaze lands on is your cock, the remnants of last night’s encounter still visible; the tip of your manhood is coated with crimson streaks, proof of Chanelle’s lost innocence.

You reach out to the sleeping beauty, your touch firm yet careful. “Chanelle, baby,” you call to her in a whisper. Chanelle slowly stirs awake at your touch, a smile tugging at her lips at the sight of you. “Good morning, my love,” she says, no longer showing a first-timer’s vulnerability. She shifts closer to you, pressing her face against your firm chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Gerald.” You give her a gentle peck to the top of her head. “Nor would I, my dear love.”

In the quiet warmth, Chanelle knows that nothing, not even earthquakes, can shake the ground on which this love is built.

Hell, even if it crumbles, she knows that you will save her out of it, just like you have.

[cheeseborgorbord2]

Pregnancy Headcanons with GamerGirl!Jinx

Men and minors DNI

(amab) GamerGirl!Jinx & (afab, latina) reader

Warning: fluff, pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, breastfeeding kink, pregnancy sex, brief breeding

⇒You miss your period by a week. At first, it wasn't concerning. Your periods have been late before, once not coming for a month, but that was before meeting GamerGirl!Jinx.

⇒You didn't worry about pregnancy until, one morning, you woke up feeling strange. You felt a bit dizzy and nauseous, slightly stumbling to the bathroom, hand clamped over your mouth. You leaned over the sink, head hanging as you tried to properly breathe. You began heaving, a few gags escaping, eventually vomiting in the toilet.

⇒After vomiting, you clean up and get back in bed. You figured it was a stomach bug or your stomach hating you.

⇒A month had gone by, and still no period. Now, the worry crept in. It had been too long.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who has noticed a difference in your behavior. You haven't been eating as much or sleeping well, and it's been worrying her. Sometimes, during streams, you would come into the room and get in bed, your bundled form partially in view. Seeing you already knocked out, she ends her streams early so you can get some proper sleep.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who is focused on a game when you tell her you're running to the convenience store. She nods, not paying attention. You grab your keys and drive to the store, purchasing a few tests and some snacks.

⇒When you get back into the apartment, she's still sitting at the gaming setup, distracted. Perfect. You grab the few boxes of tests and follow the directions.

⇒After 10-15 minutes, you look at the few sticks that rested on the sink counter.

Positive.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who was about to start her stream when you walked in holding one of the pregnancy tests in your hands.

"Babe," you call.

"Yeah?" She answered.

"I'm pregnant."

"That's cool." She says. It takes a solid minute for her to register your words. "Wait, what?" She turns in the gamer chair to face you.

"I'm pregnant," you repeat, holding the test up to her. She grabs the test from you and stares at it. She looks at you, almost with an unreadable expression. She almost looks mad. She stands up and gets close enough for your breasts to touch.

"Are you messing with me? Is this a prank?" She asked, holding the test up.

"What, no! Of course not! You know I don't joke about this. Why would you-" You're interrupted by a sudden embrace. Jinx has her arms around you, her face hidden in your neck.

"I can't believe this. We're going to be parents."

⇒She cancels her stream of the day and immediately showers you in love: kisses, hugs, cuddles, a hot bath, a home-cooked meal, and passionate sex. She spends the night holding you in a breeding press as she knocks you up even further.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who constantly kisses your stomach every day throughout your pregnancy. Even when your stomach is still flat, she kisses it every day at any moment, even on stream, but off screen.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who takes you to every appointment to the OBGYN.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who gets jealous of your cat, Stink. Stink will often lie on your stomach and purr when the opportunity presents itself. He makes biscuits on your growing breasts. She fights with Stink about boundaries and who you belong to.

"Listen, you little shit, that's my girl, not yours. Stop touching her boobs!"

"Jinx, he's a cat."

"I don't care. He's touching the milk source of our future child. He's not getting any."

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx always carries a small backpack of extra clothes for you in case you accidentally piss yourself when you two are out. Thankfully, no accidents happen.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who plays her favorite music in headphones she puts on your stomach.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who fucks you whenever you are needy and horny. She makes sure you don't do too much. She'll fuck you in safe and comfortable positions like missionary and doggy. When you ride her, she'll thrust her hips up, holding you down by your hips.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who loves the lazy blowjobs and handjobs you give. Despite her protests, she knows you want to make her feel good even when you're pregnant.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who learns to cook Mexican and Puerto Rican dishes so you don't have to cook during your pregnancy.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who swats any strangers' hands that try to touch your stomach.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who keeps an arm around you everywhere you go.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who threatened to kill a man who kept pestering you and being creepy about how pregnant women are hot.

"Fuck off, you creep! I'll cut your nuts off to make sure YOU don't have kids! Keep your hands and dick away from my girl!"

You had to drag her away before she got too violent.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who massages your feet when you ache or your back from the weight of the baby.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who freaks out and squeals she feels the baby kick.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who buys and makes every craving you have. Chocolate-covered strawberries with hot cheetos? Got it. Frozen yogurt and cucumbers with tajin? Consider it done.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who buys a fuck ton of baby toys and clothes, not carrying what 'gender' their for.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who begrungingly calls her sister to convince her girlfriend, Caitlyn, to plan a gender reveal baby shower. Vi, not knowing her sister's girlfriend was pregnant in the first place, freaks out happily at the news. Next thing you know, Vi is busting down the door to your apartment with Caitlyn in tow.

"I'm going to be an aunt!" Vi screams, bursting with happiness. She pulls you into a tight hug, squeezing the life out of you.

"Vi, hey, I can't brea-"

"Vi, you're going to kill my girlfriend!" Jinx yells.

"Shit, sorry." Vi apologizes sheepishly, releasing you.

"Damnit, Vi."

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who is hesitant to announce your pregnancy to her followers, but you assure her you don't mind.

"Hey, my Jinxers. Today's stream is going to start a bit differently." She waves you over. "I want to announce that my girlfriend and I are having a baby!" She brings you closer so your bump is in view.

The chat blows up with congratulations and speculations about the pregnancy being real.

As proof, GamerGirl!Jinx lifts your shirt to show the stretched skin holding her combined spawn and kisses it on camera.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who cuts the cake at the gender reveal baby shower, revealing it's actually twins.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who comes up with ridiculous names.

"What if we name them Bobert? Randy? Stout? Zino? Nimi? What about Brick?"

"We are not naming one of them Brick!"

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who won't let you do any work in making the bedroom into a partial nursery.

"Jinx, I want to help," you whine.

"No, you need to take it easy."

"It's my baby too!"

"No."

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who makes sure everything is packed weeks before your due date.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who calls Sevika to carry you to the hospital when you go into labor.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who watches every movement from the nurses and delivery doctors who handle and take care of you.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who stays by your side as you struggle to push your babies out. She lets her hand be crushed by your superhuman strength.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who cries as her baby boys are born. The twins resemble her: blue eyes, one with blue hair and one with brown hair, both sharing her pale skin. She kisses your sweaty forehead.

"You did it, baby. You welcomed our beautiful boys into the world."

She then watches and follows the nurses with your babies. She's extra fucking protective now that her sons are born.

Post-pregnancy headcanons

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who watches anyone who handles your boys. She once snatched one of the twins from Vi because 'she was tickling him too hard.'

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who will help you bathe. She cleans you with the most gentle of care.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who holds one baby to one of your tits and you hold the other to help feed them.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who stares in adoration at the babies as they sleep, watching even the slightest movement.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who will drop her game, on or off stream, at the drop of a hat to take care of her sons.

⇒GamerGirl!Jinx who will drink some milk straight from your tit when the babies are full and fed.

"Fuck, Jinx, that's the babies' food."

"But all this milk will go to waste."

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Headers made by me.

Please do not copy my work without credit. Likes and reposts are appreciated.

[mixingandmelting]

There’s a vid that I can’t find anymore! But it was a streamer playing Stardew Valley, and she was trying to get her character pregnant. When the morning came in the game, and it didn’t happen again, she frustratingly yells/complains, “WHY AM I STILL NOT PREGNANT YEEET?” After that, her BF slowly pops his head around the corner, looking at her.

So, I was wondering how the batboys would react to hearing their s/o randomly yell that while in another room or maybe next to them while they play their game? 😂

Dick:

….That’s one way to welcome him home. 

He just got back from his day job (being a gymnastics instructor this time) and in the middle of taking off his shoes, he hears you scream that particular line. And he’s now more confused than ever who exactly you were directing it to: yourself, him, or that one game you’ve been playing since a month ago. 

At least Haley’s not worried about it, happily wagging her tail and running in circles in front of her dad. 

He presses a finger on his lips, ruffling her head when she instantly goes quiet for him before picking her up and tip-toeing to your room.

“Is it so hard to get me pregnant?! Or is it too much to ask that I give birth to kids?!” 

His eyes grow wider at every step he takes, your rant becoming more absurd the closer he gets to your room. You want to have kids? Who’s kid? His? One of the characters in the game? 

By the time he reaches the door frame, he stiffens, hearing you slam your headsets down and stomping towards the door. 

“Uh, I’m back?” It didn’t make the situation better, awkwardly smiling there while waving a hand in front of the doorway. 

“…You-How much did you hear?” 

He doesn’t answer, the silence being a telltale on its own. 

“…I was just trying to further romance my in-game character. That’s all.” Your voice comes out quiet and muffled, your hands covering your face. 

“Well, I was going to say all you had to do was tell me and we could’ve gotten to it right away-” He dodges the oversized body pillow you swing at him. 

Placing Haley down, he goes over to you and hugs you from behind before picking and twirling you up in the air. You squeal, patting his arm with a hand while your flustered mind struggles who to tell off: him or Haley, who nips at your pants. He doesn’t let you live down on it for the rest of the week though, pumping his eyebrows up whenever he passes by and sees you playing the game. 

Jason:

Slowly, he walks back and takes a peep at you from the doorway. His eyes wide with every question a man could possibly have. 

He was simply passing by, planning to get to the one book he’s been meaning to read at the couch since you like having your gaming time. Even getting a good cup of coffee ready and carrying a pillow snug under his arm. 

Then you screamed that line. 

“I did not just spend this much time with you only for you to do this to me! We’re even married!” 

He takes a second to think before silently nodding his head in agreement, recalling everything you told him regarding your efforts to romance one of the characters including how you had to specifically buy some pendant to propose. And only after you give them a bouquet and reach ten hearts. 

“Why else did you think I chose you over Sebastian?! Did you think I was going to choose based on looks?!” 

Oh, there’s more tea? 

The next handful of minutes flies by, his book forgotten. He’s pretty sure no one could blame for it either when the gossip was just too good to pass. Then an idea struck. 

With expertise, he sneaks into your room and slowly makes his make towards you. 

“Seriously, he’s such a jerk.” 

“Oh most definitely.”

“Even when I forgave him for cheating on me.”

“Tell me about it.” 

“Like, come on just why won’t he ask- What the fuck?! Jason?!” 

He raises an eyebrow, his trademarked, shit-eating smirk ever so present.

“If you really wanted one that badly, you could’ve just asked.” 

He cackles, letting himself get tackled onto the mattress that happens to be behind you/ the one he’s currently sitting on. His arms automatically wrap themselves around you, using the magic of smothering you in his embrace to calm you down as he knows you know he’s doing you a favor in covering your expression up. Glad to know it works, you snuggling into his shirt with flushed ears. 

Tim:

He chokes on his water, hacking and coughing up a storm. The two of you are currently hanging out, playing the same game. And it was quiet too, with the occasional mumbling of profanities whenever the characters decided to give attitude towards either you or him. Until you scream why you weren’t getting pregnant. 

“W-what?” It takes him some time to finally ask the question, his throat sore and needing time to recover. 

“Yes! Pregnant!” You make hand motions to your screen, backing away as he tries to lean and look over. “I did everything that everyone online said! Upgrade the farmhouse, add the nursery, go to bed BEFORE 10 PM-! What am I doing wrong?!”

“It IS a 5% chance; it might take a while.”  He rubs circles on back in attempts to console you. Too bad it fails, you rolling your eyes and groaning.

“Yeah, but I'm at my final straw here. Especially when I’ve been playing for two years…”

…Is it really that hard to get kids in the game? 

He takes a quick glance at his screen where his character is happily raising children with their respective spouse. And he hasn’t been playing for a year.

“… Tim?” Crap. He was quiet for too long. 

He jumps into action, trying to change the scene but he’s too late. You gasp. Your eyes wide in betrayal 

“You-How-“ Oh no. It’s never a good sign when you fumble over your words. “It took you how long again for you to ask me out? But you already have kids in the game???” 

“Well, I was nervous-“ 

“More like abs-er-gutless.”  

…Excuse you? Sure, he’s not a Greek God like Dick or built like a refrigerator like Jason but he knows he has pretty good abs and takes full offense to that. 

So, without a word, he gets up and hauls you over his shoulder.

“Tim, what are you doing???” 

“Taking you with me to prove a point.”

Needless to say, he’s successful in changing your mind that night as well as receiving a heartfelt apology for creating a word to describe his apparent “lack of muscles”. 

Duke:

He’s so glad the two of you aren’t out in public. The scene it would’ve caused especially with how loud your voice was- he can feel himself getting the goosebumps. The two of you were hanging out at your place with him having stepped out to use the restroom while you told him you’d wait. 

Now he's facing a dilemma as he awkwardly stands at the entrance way to the living room. The rational side of him wants to shake you, ask if you’re aware you’re still in high school. The protective boyfriend side of him wants to know who you were asking and for what reason. 

The worst part is that there’s no real, good way to find out unless he leans his head out from behind the wall. And him getting caught red-handed for snooping on you is the last thing he needs to happen right now. 

“How is it that I’m not pregnant yet?!”  Please, he’s on his knees. Stop saying that and instead, drop the context. “A week! It’s been one whole week and I’m still without kids!”

Screw it. 

Slowly he moves his head forward. Then blinks.

There, with your back towards him, he can see the screen of your laptop filled with colors, all retro, 8-bit themed. His eyes make out a character that you keep moving, seemingly walking around in an area filled with green, red, different shades of browns. 

…Oh. You’re playing Stardew Valley. 

Sliding back behind the wall, he sighs in relief. Finally, he can rest and be assured it’s not between yourself and him or with some other guy he didn’t know about. You’re yelling crazy things like usual whenever you play that game. That’s all. 

“Duke? What are you doing there?”

“What? Oh, uh, nothing. Just coming back from using the restroom, that’s all.” If not for the furious blush on your cheeks, he would’ve really thought you were unamused. 

“...I’m going to stick my head into the kitchen sink for a second, don’t follow me.”

The next hour is spent with him convincing you that it’s fine and there’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. Then another once he admits after you give him a look that it’s funny and he probably won’t forget about it. 

Damian:

Really? Out of all things you’re going to yell, you’re yelling that? His eyes are flat as cement, not even a single drop of him laughing at the sight. 

First off, why in the world would you be this frustrated? It’s a just game that’s meant to waste time, nothing worth all the effort and the attention. Second, why are you so desperate to have a child? With a fictional character nonetheless? Is he not your significant other? Is that character more interesting than him that you decide to spend hours interacting with them and not him?

“It’s probably because you lack the skills to get the game to move as you please.” He doesn’t appreciate the snort you let out in response. 

“Sure and you do when you can’t even get to reaching eight hearts.”

Say what now? 

“Of course I can! I just haven’t gotten that far since I’m busy with keeping a city safe!” 

“Excuses, excuses. That’s what they all say.”

“Excuses???”

The two of you glare at each other, huff, and turn away. Only for you ruffle your hair after another failed attempt. 

He slumps into his chair, drilling holes to your side visage. He can’t understand. Was that game really more important to you than him?  But he doesn’t like how it’s making you this fed up either. A moment of compilation later and watching your face scrunch up, he gives in.

“Here, let me try-”

“Okay, that does it!” His back straightens when you slam your hands onto the desk. “We’re getting ice cream, go on a walk, and come back to this stupid game!”

“...Why again?”

“Because I’m frustrated and I’m not going without you!” Blankly he blinks, watching you stomp out of the room. Well then. 

Despite snorting, a tiny smile forms on his lips as he jumps off his chair and follows right behind you. About time you make his visit worthwhile, you should’ve proposed this from the start. He does end up sharing your pain once the two of you come back, resulting in failure every time he tries and causing him to hate the game even more. 

[rafeysdeer]

so american (aka civil!reader x vigilante bf jason)

prompt: where the reader is not used to be loved in the right way, or, where jason finds the reader sleeping wrapped in his t-shirt and does everything to show how much he loves her.

a/n: omg hi! i know, i really disappeared this time, but i'm back and with a new imagine! i promise i will post every request that it's on wait list, and become more active in here, anyway, english is not my first language, and i hope u guys like this one 💗

"he says i'm pretty wearing his clothes" so american, olivia rodrigo

It was already late at night when the window of your tiny apartment opened, showing that your boyfriend had arrived from his usual patrol, unfortunately, you had been asleep for a long time, on the couch, curled up in a shirt at least twice your size, an open book sprawled on the coffee table, in a probably very uncomfortable position.

Jason's eyes lit up when he found your peacefully sleeping figure on the couch, his satisfaction growing even more when he recognized the oversized t-shirt you were wearing, his shirt, the one that had been missing for weeks, but he seen it hidden on your side of the closet, a smile started to take over his face.

He carefully approached you, pulling the blanket from the edge of the couch to cover your soft body, but no matter how gentle his touch was, he saw your eyes slowly opening, blinking slowly as you tried to shake off the desire to return to your deep sleep.

"Jay? What time is it? I'm sorry, I tried to stay awake, but the couch was so comfy" the girl said, trying to defend herself, of nothing, because he was not accusing her at all, and it's obvious when he looks at her face with an expression of pure confusion.

"Why are you apologizing, sweetheart? It's really late, you didn't have to wait for me, come on, let's get you on bed" he says as the girl blinks her big eyes, shaking off the sleep, her arms wrapping almost instinctively around his neck, as he picks you up bridal style, wrapped in the fluffy blanket and takes you towards the bedroom.

It didn't matter how many nights had passed, how many patrols there were, how many times he told her it was okay for her to go to sleep, and that she didn't need to wait for him.

The routine in the end was always the same, him finding her passed out on the couch, curled up in some uncomfortable position, and then carrying her back to the bedroom while she grumbled about how he didn't need to carry her, even though she made no sign of moving, and just curled up tighter into him.

And yet, night after night, she kept apologizing for doing something as silly as falling asleep while waiting for him to come, and as cute as he thought it was, it was starting to get tiring.

"Honey, you know you don't have to apologize every time you fall asleep, right? It's okay to sleep, besides, I love the routine of having to carry you to bed" He teases with a smile on his face that said everything that was hidden behind his gaze.

She curls up on the bed as she waits for him to finish taking off his gear, watching him take off his combat boots and heavy jacket.

"I don't know, I just feel bad, you already do so much for me, the least I could do was wait for you." She says with a look on her face that expressed how much she wished she could do more, how much she felt she needed to do more.

His head tilts slightly to the side as he lets out a tired sigh.

"The only thing I want from you is for you to rest, so you can be beautiful and happy the next day, and not look like a tired zombie, you know that's more like my thing." He teases, smiling mischievously, drawing a little laugh from her pretty lips, as the bed moves with the new added weight.

His arms go straight to her waist, as if there was a supernatural force pushing them towards her. They curl up comfortably around each other, his head tucked into the space between her neck and shoulder, leaving kisses that were anything, but innocent.

"Maybe I have to tire you up, so you finally stop being so stubborn and go to sleep," he jokes, smiling as he bites lightly her earlobe, making her let out a cute sound between a nervous laugh and the beginning of a moan.

"Jay, stop it, you're tired, let's go to sleep." She protests, moving in his arms as he warmly holds her in place.

"Nah, never too tired for you, love."

His voice sounds huskier as his open-mouthed kisses start to trail down her neck, causing nervous giggles. "You know, I think you should-" He begins as she let out little nervous laughs and giggles, he murmurs against her skin, causing goosebumps, an effect only he could cause on her. "...Wear that shirt more often, you look pretty in my clothes." He says with a naughty smile as he places kisses on the lap of her chest, the part that's not covered by her (his) shirt.

This was going to be a really long night, at least you got a good rest.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Little Comforts

Azriel x F!Reader

Summary - Azriel is completely besotted by you, his mate who astounds him daily, but how does he feel when he realises the pain you've been carrying is beginning to impact you more than he could ever fathom.

Warnings - mentions of death of a loved one, mentions of depression, weight loss, angst, fluff

The changes were so small that he didn't even realise it. So small that over time it didn't seem that you had changed at all.

If there was one thing that Azriel appreciated about you, it was that you never asked too many questions or fretted too much when he would have to go away. Each time he would return to you, he would hear the music drifting from the open white-shuttered of your shared home, and he would spy your silhouette drifting about within it, dancing idly as you baked whatever it was that Nyx had requested from you.

No questions were ever asked as soon as he stepped inside, drinking in your scent of citrus and fresh rain; you would move to him, treat in hand, and bring it to his lips in knowing that he would tell you of his travels if he wanted to, and most of the time the tales weren't ones that you wanted to hear anyway.

Azriel knew of your innocence, he knew that your world revolved about baking and reading, and that anything outside of that sometimes terrified you.

That's why everyone was so surprised that Prythian's most talented baker was the mate of the one and only Shadowsinger.

Though, Cassian had been rather excited by it, but only because it meant free treats for him, not that you ever made him pay regardless.

The changes had been so small, so small that Azriel was kicking himself for not realising sooner, for not realising how much the light of his life was dimming every passing minute.

Azriel knew you too well. He knew how passionate you were, and how much you put others before yourself constantly, choosing to care for the world before tending to yourself. It was a tiring thing, you had admitted that much to him, but it wasn't something you would ever want to end.

The truth of it was hidden rather well behind the stacks of cakes for the orphanages and treats for the local schools.

You were drowning.

Pain suffocated you, your chest ached and panged with forbidden wishes, and instead of facing it, instead of talking and seeking help, you pushed on as if it had never happened at all.

But no one could deny that the hole left within you by the death of your mother couldn't be soul-crushing.

One day Azriel had come home and you were struggling to find anything that fit your frame, everything feeling rather baggy on you compared to the weeks before. Azriel had made Feyre take you shopping and that was the end of that.

Then the restless nights came whilst Azriel was away on one of his many trips, and you had sought out Madja for some sleeping tonics, dismissing the sunken in eyes for a busy occupation. You had told Azriel the same, and he had accepted it without really thinking any deeper.

Another time, Nesta had complained to him that they hardly ever saw you anymore unless you were with him. Nesta was missing her co-conspirator for the book club, and Feyre was missing her closest friend. Then there was Nyx that Feyre had admitted had began crying for you, thinking that you had left forever.

"I'm worried about her, Az," Feyre told him one evening after he had returned from yet another mission, bouncing Nyx in her arms who was fussing and crying for his favourite auntie once he had seen Azriel, believing that you would be with him.

Rhys had entered the room at the words, eyes solemn with agreement as he took the fussing child from his mates arms, "Something is wrong, you're right." Rhys shushed Nyx, resting his chin atop the childs' head in an attempt to calm him down.

It broke Feyre's heart to see Nyx so upset, but was broke her even more was the possibility that you were suffering in silence and feeling that you had no one to turn to. "I've noticed things. Little things. Spread over so much time that you wouldn't really recognise them unless you were really thinking about it."

The thought that something was perhaps wrong with you made Azriel want to flock to you immediately, to take to the skies and find your embrace as soon as he possibly could; but he had to listen, he had to hear what he had missed.

"She's lost weight, Az. I've had to take her shopping three times since spring," Feyre began, hands on her hips and foot tapping against the floor, more the centre herself than anything, "Unless she's with you then we don't see her anymore, I've gone from speaking to y/n every day to hardly muttering a word to her all week. She hasn't been reading her books, and she's had Penelope go to the house to pick up the all cakes rather than take them to the shop herself. Madja said she hasn't been sleeping, she has to get her assistant to take tonics to her every few days."

Upon thinking about it, of the countless garments he had found strewn in charity boxes, of the empty bottles of tonics in the bathroom, and of the pure surprise in everyone's eyes when they would see you... Azriel felt absolutely useless.

"How- How did I not notice this? How did I not feel this?"

Feyre smiled at Azriel sadly, sympathetically, and spoke, "Y/N has always had the strangest ability to hide every negative feeling she's ever had."

Azriel struggled to pinpoint it, struggled to follow the trail back to where it all started. And, as if though he had read his mind, Rhys concluded, "It was after her mother died. She never stopped working, it must all be catching up with her."

The love between you and your mother had been unfathomable, no one in the continent had seen such a bond, not even between mates. It was as though you were twin flames, more sisters and best friends than mother and daughter, and the day she left the world had been the worst day of your life.

Your mother had been the embodiment of grace and kindness, and had been a firm believer that a little bit of kindness every day would make the world a better place than yesterday.

Even after the funeral, you never stopped, Azriel had warned you to slow down and take your time, but you were steadfast in your decision to carry on her legacy by making the world a better place. So, he had left you to it, and had believed that you were healing, but he couldn't have been more wrong.

"I have to go." Azriel muttered with his eyes on the open doors, he moved to them with precision, stepping between the panes and unfurling his wings only moments before taking to the skies.

Returning home made everything feel much more real.

There was no sweet smells drifting from the windows, no golden light that your silhouette that your frame would dance against, and no smell of citrus or rain. The home felt empty, and cold, devoid of love and life and happiness.

"Love?" Azriel called softly as he poked his head around the door, noticing the disarray of your usually picturesque home.

Blankets had been thrown haphazardly across the sofas, the fire clearly hadn't been lit for days, and the kitchen counters were pilled with dirty dishes and failed bakery creations; the scent of stale goods drifting about the room.

Empty bottled of tonics were scattered atop the coffee table, some half drank, and others empty and on their sides; some had even made it to the hand-stitched rug and shattered on the surface.

How long had he been gone?

A thin slit of light reflected against the wall at the top of the stairs, and the sound of gently lapping water echoed softly about the house.

Azriel couldn't stop himself from following it, and the closer he got to you, the more he felt your sadness settle into his veins.

He knocked on the door once. Nothing.

He knocked again, a little harder. Nothing.

"Angel?" Azriel announced his entrance, stepping into the usually bright bathroom that was illuminated by only a few well-placed candles.

It was like he didn't exist, it was like he was a ghost and you couldn't see or hear him.

There you lay in the tub, hair strewn over the edge with skin glistening in the candlelight, and eyes watching the Sidra drift on by. Azriel knelt at the edge of the tub, dipping his fingers beneath the surface and grazing against your freezing cold skin despite the scorching waters, and you hummed at the contact.

With his other hand, Azriel gently turned your face to meet his, and the vacant glare in your eyes made his heart splinter. How had he missed this? How had he not realised how much you were suffering right before his eyes?

"Can you hear me, my love?" Azriel cooed, gaining your attention, and in that moment it was as though you had only just realised that he was in the room with you.

With a furrowed brow and voice rasped from days without nourishment, you asked, "You're home? It's only been two days."

That struck him like a tonne of rocks. "Y/N," Azriel tried not to gasp, turning his expression from surprise into something more adoring, "I've been gone for a week."

"A week?" The look in your eyes almost had him sobbing, the mixture of embarrassment and disillusionment finding a bed inside of you. "Oh."

Azriel moved a strand of your drying hair from your face, tracing his finger down your check and over your shoulder, "Tell me what's wrong, y/n. Everyone is so worried about you."

"I didn't want that," you spoke with a voice void of any emotion.

"I know, Angel," Azriel sighed, "We just want to help you. I know the hole of your mother will never disappear, I know how much you adored her, but maybe, together, we can make it a little bit smaller."

The ebbing Sidra suddenly became more interesting. A cold swoop encased Azriel’s palms as you turned away, setting your head back upon the tubs edge. “Don’t say that,” you spoke in a pained whisper, “Don’t wish it away.”

“Wish it away?”

A hum escaped you, and Azriel took a much needed moment to examine you. He noted the purple that had settled beneath your eyes, the way your collarbone seemed to be sharper than usual, but what hurt him the most was that far away desire in your eyes, a desire with no light or warmth.

“Wish her away. I won’t love anyone like I loved her,” the water rippled as you faced him once more, “Everything I adore has the unique fate of abandoning me. Even you.”

Abandoning you? Azriel could never-

Although, he hated to admit that he had never really taken into account how it must have felt for you to lose the last bit of your family, to only then have to face the nightmares of potentially losing him too.

If anything happened to Azriel, well, he refused to think about what you would turn into.

Azriel rose to his feet and began peeling his clothes from his body, his skin tingling as it made contact with the chilled yet humid air of the bathroom. Without needing to be asked, you leant forward, making room for him to nestle himself behind you and curl his around your frame.

A kiss fell upon your shoulder, “I’m sorry, y/n,” his voice splintered, “I’m sorry that I haven’t been here, and for leaving you when you’ve been needing me more than ever before.”

Your mate had always been magnificent in every possible way, but what he was best at was wiping every worry and inkling of pain from your soul.

“I’m going to tell Rhys that I’m standing down from my position for awhile,” his finger worked small circles into your back as he spoke, moving from your shoulders and into your scalp, “What kind of mate would I be if I couldn’t ensure the safety and happiness of the love of my life?”

Tear brimmed orbs found him, fingers curled around his wrists, “You would really do that? For me?”

Azriel smiled slightly, laying his forehead against yours, “You should know by now that I would do absolutely anything for you.”

“You’ll stay?”

“Mhm,” he sounded, pressing gentle kisses to whatever skin he could reach, “We’ll get through this together, no matter how long you need, or how you need to process it all. We’ll do it all together. How does that sound?”

And for the first time in what Azriel knew to be weeks, a smile cracked across your lips despite the sadness held within it, and if the sun were shining then beams of light would have caressed your skin carefully.

But, he supposed the cascade of moonlight against the surface of the Sidra was enough to promise a better day. As your mother used to say, kindness would bring a more beautiful tomorrow, and Azriel intended to make every tomorrow brighter than the one before.

A/N

Honestly it’s been WAY too long since I’ve posted 🥺

If it’s any consolation I do have like 17 drafts going atm, two of which are for the fox and the fawn and a ballad of storm and shadow 🥺

Don’t hate me I beg 🥹

[sakuraszn]

may I please request a Luffy x fem reader (they aren’t together yet) but Luffy has a big crush on the reader without realizing and he’s always super touchy with her without thinking anything of it, like always holding her or picking her up when they’re on adventures and protecting her too all without realizing until the crew makes a comment about it to him, I think it would be super adorable. thank you!

unconscious affection, ft. monkey d. luffy

note: OMG YESSS, this will be my first time writing something for luffy so I’m excited! I hope you like ittt🥰.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Sunny as it glided through the calm waves. The salty breeze carried the sound of laughter and the occasional clatter of plates from the kitchen. It was a peaceful day at sea, the kind that made adventures feel like dreams rather than dangers.

And yet, something entirely different was happening right under the crew’s noses—something that had been going on for weeks, if not months.

Monkey D. Luffy, captain of the Straw Hat Pirates, was smitten. Not that he realized it, of course. Luffy wasn’t the type to dwell on his emotions, much less recognize them. But to everyone else, it was painfully obvious.

Especially with the way he was holding you right now.

“Luffy, put me down!” you huffed, though there was no real anger in your voice—just exasperation.

“Nope!” Luffy grinned, his arms locked securely around your waist as he carried you across the deck like a sack of treasure. “I wanna sit up on Sunny’s head, and it’s more fun if you’re there too!”

Robin chuckled behind her book, Sanji rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette, and Zoro muttered something about “idiot captain behavior.” The rest of the crew wasn’t even fazed anymore.

This had become normal.

Luffy, whether he realized it or not, had a habit of keeping you close. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing—he would sling an arm around your shoulders, grab your hand while running through a town, or, in moments like this, just pick you up and take you wherever he wanted to go, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And the most infuriating part?

He never acted this way with anyone else.

It wasn’t just on the ship, either.

On an island you had docked at a week ago, you had been walking through a dense jungle, eyes scanning the towering trees for any signs of danger. It was an unfamiliar place, and caution was necessary.

Luffy, however, had decided that caution was boring.

He had climbed ahead, jumping from tree to tree with his usual reckless energy, leaving the rest of you to navigate the ground below. But just as you were stepping over a tangle of vines—

“Wha—Luffy!”

Without warning, he had snatched you up, one arm hooking under your legs and the other supporting your back as he launched into the treetops.

“Look at this view!” he had laughed, holding you securely as he perched on a thick branch.

You had been too stunned to respond at first, but once the initial shock wore off, you smacked his chest lightly. “You can’t just grab me whenever you feel like it!”

“Why not?” he tilted his head dumbfounded.

“Because I have legs,” you deadpanned.

Luffy had only laughed again, tightening his hold just a little before leaning forward as if sharing a secret.

“But I like carrying you.”

Your heart had skipped a beat at that, but before you could even process what he had just said, he was already stretching an arm to swing to another branch, completely unaware of how flustered he had just made you.

Then there were the fights.

Luffy was always protective of his crew—fiercely so. But when it came to you?

It was different.

He never let you fight alone. Not if he could help it.

On a recent island, you had been fending off a group of enemy pirates, your weapon clashing against theirs. You were holding your own just fine—until a particularly nasty opponent lunged at you from behind.

Before you even realized the danger, a rubbery arm shot past you, stretching at lightning speed before slamming into your attacker’s gut.

Luffy landed beside you in an instant, standing between you and the remaining enemies. His usual carefree grin was gone, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous.

“Hey,” he had said, voice dark with warning. “Don’t touch her.”

The fight had ended quickly after that.

It took the crew making an outright comment for Luffy to even begin noticing his own behavior.

One evening, you were all gathered around the dining table, enjoying one of Sanji’s extravagant meals. Luffy, as usual, was sitting next to you. And, as usual, he had an arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close as he talked with his mouth full.

At this point, no one even blinked at it.

Until Nami, eyes glinting with mischief, casually said, “Y’know, Luffy, you really can’t keep your hands off her, huh?”

Silence.

Luffy blinked, swallowing a mouthful of meat. “Huh?”

Usopp leaned forward, grinning. “She’s right, man. You’re always touching her.”

“Like, constantly,” Zoro added with a smirk.

Sanji, who had been stewing in silent jealousy for weeks, exhaled a cloud of smoke. “It’s honestly impressive how oblivious you are, dumbass.”

Luffy frowned, confused. He turned to look at you, as if seeing you for the first time. You were staring at the table, face burning as you tried to focus on your food.

“Wait,” he said slowly, eyes widening. “Do I really…?”

Robin smiled knowingly. “Oh yes. It’s quite adorable, actually.”

The realization hit Luffy like a punch to the gut. His eyes flicked between you and his own arm still draped over your shoulders. His grip on you had always been instinctual, like second nature. He had never thought about it before.

But now that it was pointed out…

He felt warm. Too warm.

His fingers twitched against your skin, and for the first time in his entire life, Monkey D. Luffy blushed.

“oh.”

The crew burst into laughter.

And you? You just covered your face with your hands, knowing that things were never going to be the same after this.

SAKURASZN © 2025 !

[81pastrys]

Lando daughter where she has been fussy and upset all day with her mom and mom picks her up and she’s upset so she like hits at her like young kids do and mom is upset then Lando comes home and has to deal with it all?

A Big Fuss

Summary— Lila wakes up with the telltale signs of a cold and fusses about everything. When she doesn’t want to nap she throws a tantrum at her mum

Warnings— toddler tantrums (dramatic) ; hitting/kicking at mum ; Lando being the mean one ish

A/N— this is long so enjoy <3

Lila woke up with a mild cold and Lando insisted he stay home, but his wife refused. He had something for Quadrant and Max would understand a sick daughter. The first strike of the day was arguing over it in front of Lila.

She also wanted Lando to stay home and cried when he made his way out. “Lila, he has to go work, come on let’s take some medicine so you feel better.” Her mum said on her level while holding her back from the door as it locked. Lila thrashed and got out of the grip, banging on the door while crying.

Her mum sighed and got the little girl medicine anyway. She picked her up from the door. “I want daddy!” She shouted. Her mum sat her on the counter and handed her medicine and a water cup.

“Take this, it’ll help you feel better my love.” She cooed. Her daughter took the medicine and threw the medicine cup at her. “Okay, stop with the attitude Lila. He went to work.” Her mom scolded. Lila internalized the scolding and behaved until strike two.

Her mum made lunch but it wasn’t what Lila wanted. Lila whined and picked at the food. “I want soup mama.” She wasn’t yelling, or shouting but she did have a slight attitude. The only reason her mum made her the soup was because she was sick, otherwise it would’ve been a tantrum over the food. Lila was content with the soup when her mum served it to her.

Strike three however, was nap time. Lila quit taking naps a while back but since she was sick, her body was fighting illness. Her mum insisted she take a nap. “You’ll feel better and daddy will be home when you wake up.” Her mum explained. That wasn’t enough. A tantrum exploded and she stomped her feet, rolled on the floor, kicked at her mum.

Lila about lost it when her mum tried holding her to rock her in the rocking chair. She was thrashing and ended up hitting her mum in the face. Lila stopped immediately when she was let loose. She sat on her feet looking up at her mum, realizing what she did.

Her mum had tears building and left the room, slamming the door behind her. She needed a minute from the screaming toddler. Lila took the initiative to get in her princess bed and drifted into a nap.

“What happened?” Lando asked on the phone, already grabbing his stuff to leave. She had called him crying, Lila had been like this for a few days and he hadn’t noticed it, Lila didn’t think he knew. His wife finally had enough and broke down from it.

“She wouldn’t calm down so I tried to rock her to sleep, and I don’t know Lan, she accidentally hit me in the face.” She sniffled, hearing Lando’s car start. He stayed on the phone with her in case Lila wanted to start something else before he got there.

“She hit you?” He asked, in disbelief. His sweet, innocent, little princess, hit her mum? Oh Lando is not happy. “I’m sorry my love, I’m sure she didn’t mean to.” He heard her sniffle again.

“I know, but it’s still hard to not think she meant it, she was mad at me for trying to get her to nap.” She explained. “I think she knew because she stopped right after.” Lando pulled in the driveway and she met him at the door. He hugged her waist, not able to hug her properly from all the stuff he was carrying.

He dropped the stuff as soon as he could and held her. Leaving kisses on her head. “You’re an amazing mum, you know that?” He praised her parenting. “Lila doesn’t feel well, I promise you she didn’t mean to hurt you on purpose.” He reassured her. “If she did that’s another story for later.” He joked, making her laugh. When he went to Lila’s room she was out cold.

They cuddled and watched a show until she inevitably woke up and joined them. She emerged from the hall, curls everywhere and her favorite blankie in hand. A koala from Oscar when she was born. She noticed Lando and crawled into his embrace, settling between the couple comfortably. He lightly laughed and she just got more comfortable.

“Sweetheart I need to have a talk with you.” Lando said moving her curls out of her face. She pouted and nestled her head further into his arm. “Your pout won’t help you Lila.” He whispered to her. They finished the show and then got off the couch. Lando picked up Lila and sat her on the counter. “What happened today?” He asked, an arm either side of her on the counter.

Lila’s eyes looked to her mum and back to Lando with guilty eyes. Tears began to form as she explained. She held her koala to her mouth. “I wanted you to stay!” She whined out first. Lando shook his head at her and wiped a tear.

“No, sweetheart, what happened while you were here with mama?” He specified. Her bottom lip poked out, her famous pout that usually ends the scoldings from Lando. “She told me you did something inexcusable Lila.” He was serious now, no bullshit, ready to catch lies from her mouth.

“I didn’t mean to hit mama, I promise!” She sobbed harder now. Lando rubbed her back to soothe her. “I didn’t wanna take a nap and she made me.” She kept spewing why she did it.

“Okay, sweetheart, I need you to take a deep breath for me.” Lando mimicked a breath and she followed, a sniffle interrupting. “Can you apologize to mama?” He asked. She nodded and looked to her mum.

“I’m sorry mama, I love you.” She said through a few tears. She reached out and hugged her mum. Lando was not done though. Just because she apologized doesn’t mean she understands it was completely wrong.

“I understand you were frustrated Lila, but you can’t just kick and flail your arms when you’re mad.” Lando started. “You can hurt mama, and I don’t like seeing mama hurt.” He nodded as she listened to him speak. “If you continue acting out, you won’t be able to go to races with me, that was our deal right?” He pulled her aside before he left for testing and told her she needed to behave in order for him to get her tickets.

It was nearly summer break and Silverstone was coming up, a race they’d inevitably would bring her to, but he wanted to scare her into being good so she could go. “You don’t want to miss daddy’s home race do you?” Her mum played along, catching his words bite. Lila shook her head furiously at them.

“I wanna go daddy, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!” She said hugging him from the counter. He rubbed her back and looked over to his wife. It didn’t take long for her cold to become worse and Lando stayed home with them when they both got sick.

I like doing requests, keep em coming

Taglist: @il0vereadingstuff

[redspacegirl]

i am back. with the headcanons. big ol warning for PD s2 finale spoilers! anyways lets (noises that sound vaguely of an airplane) fly right into this.

So, ashe (reminder for my first timers here. i hc ashe as transfem. don't agree? that's chill, you can have your own headcanons. however ill be using she/her in this post <3) carries the squad in nearly every video game. she is genuinely so good, on the verge of a sweat in most games. while playing in minecraft, she'll be the one to actually farm everything. she has the y level for diamonds memorized by heart (-54 iirc), and is solid at using redstone. she has a solo minecraft world that she's played on for 4 years, and has given Dakota a tour of what the world looks like. she also plays a lot (LOT) of horror games, and knows a bunch of good, niche, roblox horror games (+ indie horror games outside of roblox games). she also follows a few roblox myths, and was absolutely devastated to find out that it had been a year after she returned (missed out on a bunch of myth events :'C). She ends up being the one to walk first in the roblox horror games (dakota tries, but then gets distracted, or maybe a little scared but shh you didn't hear that).

William is on the COMPLETE opposite side of the spectrum. He is. SO bad at video games. He love video games, he just can't help but suck complete and total ass at them. the only game he is good at is, as is canon, mario kart. i mean, given he was living in his rotting body, it would high key make sense for him not to have full articulation. even after that, after the s2 finale, he still completely sucks. despite this, he rages SO hard. obviously not breaking controllers or anything (that shit is expensive), but he will start yelling at the screen, yk chuck the controller at a soft surface or something. Another thing, he is very good at roblox dress to impress. He has all the gamepasses for it and everything. He also votes everyone else (minus his friends) one star. He didn't play a lot of roblox growing up, but he surely watched so many indie horror game playthroughs. he and ashe both know a lot of video game lore stuff, though mainly william. william will actually research and watch a lot of video game theories (he totally watches so much game theory no question). he'll post on reddit about his findings and everything.

Vycent managed to adapt to video game controls with surprising ease. I think he also gets REALLY competitive at video games, he will sometimes go out of his way to get Will riled up. Mario Kart games with the prime defenders are actively the worst. anyways, he's solid at video games. Vyncent prefers stuff like Legend of Zelda, and is a switch main, however he'll play on PC for some games, especially Minecraft night with the squad (on Java edition, as things should be /j). he has played baldurs gate 3 and full on started crying over how much it reminded him of home. A similar event happened with Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom. he does play some games on his phone, however most of them are the type the average middle-aged mother has on her phone, yk the ones where you match the stuff together and all that. he has like 20 of them that he'll cycle through, but he does have that one dragon matching game specifically that he plays every day religiously. (and he has cookie run kingdom for the enjoyers out there. i guess)

Dakota is incredibly chaotic when gaming, which should come to no surprise. (shout out to the person in the replies who said this but) he mains. his fucking. tablet. he is also insanely good on tablet. however, for whatever reason, he'll struggle a bit on pc (depending on the game ofc). not as much as will, but he's better on mobile either way. he plays fortnite on there (i have never really played fortnite on mobile but i've heard it is absolutely horrendous). While ashe goes out to gather materials, Dakota likes to build the base. He's actually very good at it, and makes a homey cottage for the team. when he does try to go mining, he ends up mainly going cave diving, and he'll set up a bed near the entrance of the cave, because he just KEEPS dying. he doesn't rage as bad as Will does, he just keeps getting more and more determined to keep trying. He is also the reason there is a designated 'Pet Room' in the base, where they have 14 dogs, 9 cats, 6 parrots, 7 horses, a polar bear, and a huge fish tank. They all have names, and Dakota Did go out and gather up nametags for all of them.

LAST DAY OF FLUFF WEEK(I AM SO BURNT OUT WITH PD (which is crazy as number three pd enjoyer) IM SORRY ITS LATE) (they are playing minecraft. btw)

i have gaming headcanons but i will be writing those later. maybe

[starmocha]

HELLO. MAY I INTEREST YOU IN SOME FALLEN ANGEL CALEB BRAINWORM

very much based on this previous post I had made lol

btw i'm also begging for an angel/devil au, but we're the devil he falls in love with and he gets cast out of heaven and i would totally write this if i was not juggling 82438238932 wips rn.....but we'll see i tend to do the most impulsive things ever

tagging some ppl who i feel like to enable my intrusive brainworms often <333 @solifloris @aeyumicore @deepspacenova @quiet-oracle @philosians

this is totally not based on all of the biblical references/symbolism surrounding Caleb

apple — symbolizes knowledge, but also temptation, sin, immortality. and as in the story of Adam and Eve in the Book of Genesis, it also represents the fall of man. Also known as the "forbidden fruit".

name — The name Caleb is of Hebrew origin, meaning wholehearted, faithful and dog-like. In the Old Testament, a follower of Moses named Caleb, was rewarded for his faithfulness and was one of the few to visit the Promised Land.

Caleb's love of flying and being in the sky — ...no angel reference here, no sirree.

Caleb returning to the main story after the...explosive...events of chapter four...I'm not saying it's a rebirth (which in a biblical sense could mean a number of things, including seeking forgiveness and salvation).

Caleb and MC both talking about keeping the other person to themself, in a world of their own.......could mean anything. Not like it's a direct reference to Adam and Eve only having each other in the Garden of Eden, their own paradise. Oh what's this, one of Caleb's theme songs is called "Weightless Paradise" ....what a coincidence.....

The report stating Caleb and MC are the optimal weapon for destroying one another...probably means nothing. Never mind the fact that Eve was also created for Adam from one of Adam's ribs.

And she is the one who persuades him to eat the forbidden fruit, setting in motion their exile from Eden.

Surely, the gratuitous back shots are not trying to make you think of wings, right.

It's probably just a coincidence that the back of Caleb's uniform looks like there's an emblem of wings. And oh, what's that, when he is hurt in battles, his uniform is torn the most in the back...not saying this is trying to depict his wings being mutilated and torn off. 🙂

But you should all absolutely read @eeriepromis analysis about seraphim for funsies.

Choosing to give Caleb the Evol to manipulate gravity was probably not intentional........not like he could make himself float almost like he is flying............

I'm sure this means absolutely nothing that in the third theme song Cosmic Encounter, Caleb and MC are both falling from the sky (the "heavens," if you will). 🙂 This probably has nothing to do with the image of him being cast out of Heaven and fallen from grace.

random lines that I am in no way inferring he is speaking like he is her guardian angel

"I'm Caleb. I'll always be by your side." — Main Story: Homecoming Wings, 1-4

"Lay a hand on her again, and I will kill you." — Main Story: Homecoming Wings, 1-9

"I will protect you." — Main Story: Homecoming Wings, 2-7

"No one can take me away from you." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"Then, can you carry a little of this sin, too? Don't leave me in this loneliness any longer." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"...When you held my hand that day for the first time, I knew I'd never get away from you." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"So, don't be afraid... No matter what happens, I'll be here for you." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"Maybe it's because... I love you a little more than you realize." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"But until that final moment, we'll always be together." — Myths: Lucid Dream

"Even if it's pain... As long as it's from you, I want it." — Memoria: Painful Signal

"Don't go... Don't leave me alone." — Memoria: Endless Summer

"A ruined world doesn't deserve you." — Memoria: Hidden Waves

"I want you to stay here. Stay with me." — Memoria: Hidden Waves

"Let me protect you... I can guarantee this will be the last time." — Bond: Rain's Embrace

"I won't lose! I have someone I must protect!" — Memoria: Deceptive Solitude

✨fallen angel Caleb myth pls✨

✨pretty pls fallen angel Caleb myth✨