#my heart is in chaos mode

[tothestarsinvelaris]

(please no spoilers if interacting w/ this post. i have somehow avoided all TOG spoilers and know nothing more than the lil blurb on the back of the book and what i have read so far. thx <3)

{just finished chapter 60 in Heir of Fire}

OHHH MMYYYYY GOOODDNNENSSSS!!!!!!!!!

I claim you, Aelin. To whatever end. "Together, Fireheart," he said, pushing back a sleeve of her tunic. "We'll find a way together." He looked up from her exposed wrist. "A court that will change the world," he promised.

The way this man was released from his blood oath with Maeve and instantly and willingly ran to Aelin to kneel before her and practically beg to enter into a blood oath with her !!!! my fucking heart holy shit.

Like, he clearly trusts her so much. he knows that she just freed him, that she knows what being enslaved is like, that she has expressed how important freedom is to her, that she doesn't want to be that kind of queen. but he knows she wont abuse that power over him, that she would never hurt him the way Maeve did. ugh!! akskdhfkl!!

and then he tattoos her back... oh i love this so much. so intimate and so caring and gentle and special.

[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

BTR x Dead By Daylight

Because I love horror and horror-themed aus. Also, it's a spooky month.

The boys in the band make up a perfect survivor team. (Four survivors vs. one Killer.) You cannot tell me Kendall would not main Dwight. He's the leader of the group, and so is Dwight. The four perks he would use are: Babysitter, Urban Evasion, Slippery Meat, and Fixated.

James would either play one of the girls or play someone funny like Nicholas Cage (yes, he's a survivor in the game). Bro would 100% be screaming at his friends for heals or screaming while the killer is chasing him. The four perks he would use are: Better Together, Camraderie, Dark Sense, and Clairvoyance.

Carlos is a Bill main, idk how to describe it. He would gravitate towards the old war veteran as soon as he starts up the game. The four perks he would use are: Left for Dead, Unbreakable, Second Wind, and Flashbang.

Logan would take Jake. He would love sabotaging the hooks. I'm 100% certain that he would be upset about BHVR nerfing iron will because it's his favorite perk. If he bought DLC, I think he would play Leon Kennedy just because of flashbang or the perk that makes you shut up when healing. The four perks he would use are: Deja Vu, Bite the Bullet, Iron Will, and Calm Spirit. He would also bring a med-kit with addons and sacrifice a White Ward so he can keep his stuff.

That's just if they were playing the game. If the entity brought them there. It would be a whole different story.

I'm sorry, I love Kendall, but he would shit his pants. He and James would huddle in the map's corner, crying. Kendall's perks would be like Dwight's only because he's a team player who would thrive off of helping his teammates.

James has that razzle-dazzle. He would have perks that have something to do with distraction or aura-reading. For example, if he hides in a locker or gets chased by a killer, he can see where to vault or see his friends. As for distraction, he would probably scream to alert the killer where he is and then book it from that spot ASAP.

Logan's perks are technical. They would require him to repair a generator for one state or heal a survivor for the equivalent of one state. He could see generator auras or get a haste effect like Deja Vu, where you get a haste effect for a short while if you work on a highlighted generator. The three generators closest to one another would be highlighted.

Carlos causes destruction. He would fight back against the killer. His perks would use the environment around him to blind, stun, or stall the killer. When he's caught, he would be able to fight back like Laurie Strode, to be honest.

Now, if Katie played. (Ms. Knight would scream her head off if she found out.) I know she would play a killer. They would play custom matches, and she would decimate them. Her favorite killer would be Ghsotface because he can crouch and go undetected, and he can stalk his survivors to injure them. She would 100% bring a memento more just to fuck with them. And it works because James starts freaking out. (mori's allow you to kill a survivor when they're downed or if they're the last one alive or if you've already hooked them.)

(I'm not putting her in the mist. I can't. Lore wise, the smog is horrible for survivors. They're pulled out of their worlds seemingly out of nowhere, and when they're not in trials they are sitting around a campfire with very little supplies.)

[dionwhysus]

Most unhinged thing I've said this week at work

*to the guys ribbing our youngest worker* "Stop it, anxiety spoils the meat"

[flwrkid14]

Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated

There’s a new dynamic in the Batfamily, and nobody saw it coming. Jason Todd—Red Hood, former Robin, perennial black sheep of the Wayne family—has apparently decided that Tim Drake is his son. And no one, least of all Tim, knows what to do about it.

It starts subtly, if you can call Jason “subtle.” He starts showing up when Tim’s been too busy to eat, tossing him a burger or some takeout with a gruff, “Eat, Replacement.” He’s there when Tim’s working himself to the bone, slamming the laptop shut and growling about how his kid isn’t going to die of exhaustion on his watch. When Tim’s in over his head, Jason’s suddenly there, guns blazing, a protective shadow with a deadly smirk.

Tim’s confused. Very confused. Jason has always been... antagonistic, at best. But now he’s... scolding him? Encouraging him? Telling him he’s proud when Tim does something impressive? The man even started calling him “kid” instead of “Replacement,” which is somehow worse because it makes Tim feel all warm and fuzzy inside. What is happening?

Eventually, Tim asks. And Jason, in true Jason fashion, gives an explanation that doesn’t explain much at all.

“Look, Dick’s already treating Damian like his own kid, Bruce is busy helping Duke figure out his place in the family, Cass and Babs are practically attached at the hip—like sisters or something. And you?” Jason shrugs. “You’re my kid.”

Tim stares. “I’m your what?”

“My kid,” Jason repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re smart, you’re resourceful, you’ve got my stubbornness—which, yeah, is annoying—and someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed. Congrats, kid. You’ve been adopted.”

It doesn’t really explain anything, but Tim decides not to argue. After all, Jason’s kind of a good dad? He feeds Tim, checks in on him, teaches him things like how to hotwire a car (Tim already knows, but Jason’s so enthusiastic about it that Tim doesn’t have the heart to tell him). And Jason has his back in a way that feels steady, solid. Like he’s not going anywhere.

The thing is, Jason doesn’t stop there. He starts talking about Tim in ways that make Tim want to crawl under a rock. To Roy, to Kory, to anyone who’ll listen. “My kid’s a genius,” Jason brags, his voice filled with so much pride it makes Tim’s chest ache. “Runs a whole company and saves Gotham on the side. Kid’s got a brain the size of the Batcomputer.”

And it’s not just talk. Jason drags Tim along to meet-ups with other vigilantes or allies, casually introducing him like a proud dad at a PTA meeting. “This is Tim,” Jason says, grinning ear to ear. “My kid. Smartest of the bunch, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Tim flushes, stammering out an awkward, “Uh, hi,” while Jason beams like he’s just presented a Nobel Prize winner.

The height of Tim’s mortification comes when Jason introduces him to Talia—not as a fellow vigilante or even a respected ally, but as his son. Talia, who had become something of a mother figure to Jason after the Pit, is apparently now being roped into her new role as a grandmother. Jason insists it’s only right that she meet her “grandkid” and treat Tim accordingly. Tim, meanwhile, wants to disappear into the floor while Jason beams with unrestrained pride.

“Yeah, this is my boy,” Jason says, arms crossed, radiating smug pride. “Smart, resourceful, better than Bruce—don’t even try to deny it.”

Tim wants the floor to open up and swallow him. But he also can’t help feeling... warm. Embarrassed, yes, but also kind of happy. Jason’s over-the-top pride is ridiculous, but it’s genuine. It’s not something Tim’s used to—someone being proud of him just for being himself.

And of course, Jason’s newfound dad energy throws the rest of the family into chaos.

Bruce tries to scold Tim about something minor—maybe staying out too late on patrol—and Tim just raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna tell my dad,” he says, completely deadpan. And then he does. Jason shows up at the Batcave later, tearing into Bruce about how his kid doesn’t need this kind of negativity in his life, and Bruce is left speechless.

Damian tries to insult Tim, calling him a weak link or some other scathing remark, and Tim smirks. “Careful, Damian. I’m your nephew now. Better watch your mouth, or Uncle Jason might have something to say about it.”

Even Dick’s thrown off by it. “Jay,” he says one day, watching Jason shove a plate of food at Tim with all the grace of a brick. “You do realize Tim isn’t actually your son, right?”

Jason glares at him. “He’s mine. I’m the dad here. You’ve got Demon Spawn, I’ve got Tim. Deal with it.”

Tim doesn’t understand how or why this happened, but honestly? He’s not complaining. Jason might not be the most conventional parent, but he’s a damn good one. And for Tim, who’s always felt a little lost in the shuffle of the chaotic Wayne family, having someone claim him so fiercely, so completely, feels... nice.

So yeah. Jason Todd: Red Hood, vigilante, crime lord, accidental dad. Who would’ve thought?

[cherryxbooo]

Yeah, I’m the lucky one

Summary: Hiding it when you're sick from your boyfriend is one thing, but hiding it from your clingy boyfriend is a whole other challenge.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

The paddock is alive with energy, buzzing with anticipation, the sound of engines roaring in the distance, and the hum of the crowd outside.

Lando is in his element, calm yet radiating an excitement that’s palpable.

The focus in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and it’s clear that today matters more to him than most.

The weight of the race, the pressure of the expectations, and the fire in his heart are all simmering beneath the surface.

It's a mix of raw determination and adrenaline, and it brings out the best in him.

But me? Well, I feel the complete opposite.

I woke up feeling off, my head pounding and my body aching with a fever I couldn't shake.

I knew I should stay in bed, but I couldn’t. Not today.

Not with everything he’s worked for. I couldn’t let something as trivial as being sick get in the way of him having the best race of his career.

He’s been talking about this day for weeks, getting ready for it with an intensity that I’ve only seen in the world of motorsport.

But as I made my way through the paddock, trying my best to act normal, I felt the weight of my own discomfort pulling me down.

I’ve been silently counting the minutes until I can just crawl into a quiet corner and hide.

But the last thing I want is for him to see me like this. He’d immediately worry, go into panic mode, and lose focus.

Lando, with his big heart, would put everything aside just to take care of me, and I don’t want to do that to him.

Not today. Today is about him.

As I stand next to his family, making small talk with his friends, I feel dizzy.

The lights are a little too bright, and the sounds a little too loud.

I try to steady myself, offering a weak smile whenever someone glances my way, but the effort feels exhausting.

Lando’s mum catches my eye, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of concern in her expression.

But she doesn’t say anything, just gives me a warm, reassuring smile. I’m grateful, but I can tell she knows something’s off.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel a familiar hand on my back. A small shiver runs down my spine as I turn to face Lando, and I instantly feel a warmth spread through me, despite the fever still creeping in.

“Hey baby, you okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, like he’s always aware of everything around him, especially me.

I don’t want to worry him. I can’t.

So I give him a smile that’s more practiced than I’d like to admit,

“Yeah, just a little tired. Big day, huh?”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

He studies me for a second, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, his hand gently squeezing my back.

The touch is warm, comforting. “You sure? You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You focus on the race. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

Lando hesitates, his lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to gauge if I’m really okay.

But then he nods slowly, though his concern doesn’t quite vanish.

“Alright… but if you need anything, you let me know, okay?”

His voice is almost a whisper, like he’s trying not to give away just how much he cares.

“I will,” I promise, trying to keep my tone light and convincing.

But as he walks away to prepare for the race, a sense of loneliness settles over me.

The noise around me feels overwhelming, and the crowd only amplifies the ache in my head.

I find a quiet corner, away from the chaos, hoping to just breathe for a moment.

I didn't realize that I had been hiding away for a while already.

But before I know it, Lando’s voice cuts through the distance.

“You’ve been hiding from me.”

I turn to see him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His presence alone seems to calm the storm inside me.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I protest weakly, though my voice cracks just slightly.

“Just… taking a break.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Taking a break from what? From me?”

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin.

I close my eyes for a second, leaning into the touch, even though I feel like I might collapse at any moment.

“From the chaos of the paddock,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softens, the teasing in his eyes fading. He steps in closer, his body brushing against mine as he gently cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Hey…” His voice is tender now, a deep, comforting lull.

“Are you really feeling okay love?"

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat suddenly unbearable.

“Yes, don't worry Lan. I'm fine.”

I whisper, my voice slightly breaking as I fight the urge to lean on him completely.

I stare up at him, feeling a mix of love and pain.

I don’t want to be the one who holds him back, but I can’t deny how much I crave the support and warmth he gives me without even thinking.

Lando lowers his hands, but not without giving me one last comforting touch, his fingers brushing my wrist.

“You need to rest,” he says firmly, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind his words now.

“I’m not going to let you make it through today without me taking care of you at least once.”

I laugh softly, despite the dizziness still swirling in my head.

“I’m fine, Lando. You go be amazing out there.”

He looks at me, his eyes soft but filled with determination. “I will be. But only because you’re here.”

Before I can say anything else, he leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll make sure to get at least P3 for you.”

And with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of engineers and teammates.

But the moment he’s out of sight, I feel my energy drain completely.

Regardless of how I felt I still made my way to the rest so I could support Lando and be there for him.

Everywhere I look, there’s movement, excitement, and a sense of urgency.

Lando’s already suited up and surrounded by his team, getting ready to focus on the race that could mean everything for his career.

I’m supposed to be the one cheering him on, being his support, his calm, but instead, all I can do is try to survive the overwhelming wave of heat coursing through me.

Every few seconds, my head spins, my chest feels like it's on fire, and the nausea rolls in like a tide.

It’s getting harder to keep it together, but I’m trying. I can’t let anything distract him.

I can't make this his problem today, not when he’s been working so hard for this moment.

I take a seat next to Max and Pietra, hoping the three of us can keep the mood light and give Lando a little peace before he heads into the race.

I force myself to laugh at Max's joke about the weather, but it comes out more like a wheeze.

My throat feels like it’s coated in something dry and scratchy, and each breath feels like I’m not getting enough air.

Max doesn’t notice, but Pietra does.

She’s always been that way, observant, kind, and so very perceptive.

I’ve always admired how in tune she is with people.

She shifts in her seat beside me, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face.

“You okay, Y/n?” she asks gently, her voice laced with concern.

“You look a little pale.”

I immediately try to put on a smile, but it feels like the most exhausting thing I’ve done all day.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, hoping I can convince her.

“Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Pietra doesn’t buy it, not even for a second.

She leans in closer, her gaze steady as she inspects my face, my trembling hands.

“You sure?” she presses, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”

The room suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me.

The dizziness that had been simmering beneath the surface is starting to take hold, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes focused on her.

I swallow hard, trying to push the wave of nausea down, but it’s impossible to ignore now.

I nod weakly, doing my best to stay composed.

“I’m okay, Pietra. Just... a little dizzy. I think I’ll sit down for a moment.”

Max, still glued to his phone, glances up briefly, probably sensing the shift in the air.

His eyes scan me quickly before he leans closer to Pietra, muttering something under his breath, probably about how pale I look.

I’m about to wave it off, to reassure them both that it’s nothing, when Pietra’s soft hand touches my shoulder.

It’s warm and grounding, her touch gentle but insistent.

“No, you’re not okay, Y/n,” she says firmly.

“You’re not fooling me. You need to go back to the hotel and rest. Max and I will handle everything here. Don’t worry about Lando. He’ll understand. He doesn’t need to know right now, and you’re not helping him by pretending you’re fine.”

My heart clenches at her words. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to make him worry.

He’s about to race, about to compete for something so important to him.

The last thing I want is to make this about me. But Pietra’s expression leaves no room for argument.

Her hand squeezes my shoulder, and I feel a wave of guilt hit me hard.

“I... I can’t just leave,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“I don’t want him to—”

“Y/n,” Pietra interrupts, her voice soft but full of authority.

“Lando will be fine. He’ll be more upset if you stay here, pretending to be okay when you’re not. Let us take care of everything. He doesn’t need the distraction. He needs you to get better, not to keep pretending.”

I shake my head, still fighting it. “But he’s going to think I don’t care.”

“He knows you care. You don’t have to prove it by running yourself into the ground,” she says, her tone firm yet reassuring.

“You need to listen to your body. Max and I can make sure everything’s fine here.”

I hesitate for a moment, my vision swimming in and out of focus, and then I feel it, the dizziness getting worse.

My stomach turns violently, and I barely suppress a gasp. Before I can protest, Pietra’s up and at my side, helping me stand.

“Max,” she calls out to him, her voice tinged with urgency.

Max looks up from his phone, his attention now fully on us. He doesn’t need to ask questions.

Without a word, he stands, motions to security, and gestures for them to clear a path.

“We’re getting you back to the hotel,” Max says, his voice gentle but decisive.

“No arguments.”

I open my mouth to protest, to tell them I’m fine, but the dizziness overtakes me again.

I feel my legs wobble, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. The nausea is so strong now that I can’t hold it back any longer.

My head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and my heart races as I fight to keep everything together.

“Okay,” I whisper, too weak to resist any longer. “Okay, let’s go.”

Max’s arm wraps around my shoulder, steadying me as Pietra follows closely behind.

I glance over my shoulder at the paddock, seeing the hustle and bustle of the team preparing for the race.

And even though I want nothing more than to stay and support Lando, I know Pietra’s right, he doesn’t need to see me like this.

As we make our way out of the paddock, past the busy crew and excited fans, the world seems to blur again.

All I can think about is Lando, how much he’s worked for this, and how much I wish I could be there cheering him on.

But right now, all I can do is focus on getting back to the hotel and trying to heal.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Pietra murmurs, sensing my anxiety.

“Lando will understand. We’ll make sure he stays focused.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back, squeezing her hand.

Max looks over at me, offering a reassuring smile.

“No problem, Y/n. We’ve got you.”

And as they guide me toward the exit, the sound of the engines roaring to life in the distance feels far away, almost like a distant memory.

All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that, by the time Lando crosses the finish line, I’ll be okay.

Meanwhile,

The race was intense, there was no other way to describe it.

Lando’s heart was pounding, his breath coming in quick bursts as he fought to stay focused on the track ahead.

Each corner, each straightaway felt like it mattered more than the last.

The roar of the engine under him, the vibration in his hands as he gripped the wheel,it was like the world was screaming at him to push harder, to get everything he had into every lap.

And he did.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, the world outside of his car becoming a blur of colors and sounds.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else tugging at his mind, something he couldn’t quite shake.

Just before the race started, he had caught sight of Y/n sitting among their friends, looking beautiful as always, but something was... off.

Maybe it was the way she had looked at him, her tired eyes betraying a sense of exhaustion that didn’t quite match the energy of the day.

Or how quiet she seemed, like a flicker of something hidden behind her usual smile. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but something wasn’t right.

But there was no time for that.

He pushed those thoughts away, focusing back on the race, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the track with everything he had.

He couldn’t afford to think about anything but the next corner, the next lap, the next move.

And when he crossed the finish line, the elation of victory should’ve been enough to make everything feel perfect.

After all, he had gotten P2.

The cheers, the confetti, the roar of the crowd, it was everything he’d been working for, everything he’d dreamed of.

But in the midst of it all, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought of Y/n.

His gaze searched the area, instinctively looking for her.

He was surrounded by teammates, sponsors, friends, but all he wanted in that moment was to see her smile, to know she was okay.

He scanned the area again, but she wasn’t there.

Not where he had left her. His stomach tightened, his mind racing. Something wasn’t right.

Lando quickly moved through the crowd, dodging everyone on his way, his eyes darting between faces, searching for any sign of her.

He was so focused on finding her, he almost didn’t see Max and Pietra standing off to the side.

When he finally noticed them, his heart skipped a beat. You weren't there.

Lando’s pace quickened as he approached them, his voice betraying the worry he couldn’t hide.

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, his words coming out sharper than he intended.

Pietra exchanged a glance with Max before she sighed, the look on her face telling Lando everything he needed to know.

"She wasn’t feeling well," she said softly, her eyes clouded with concern.

"We had to send her back to the hotel."

Lando’s chest tightened, a heavy weight settling over him.

His pulse quickened, the sudden rush of guilt and worry clouding his thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice rising slightly, not in anger, but in genuine confusion.

Max stepped forward, his expression calm but serious.

"Mate she didn’t want to distract you. She said it was important not to take your focus away from the race."

Lando’s mind was spinning now, the elation of his victory evaporating as quickly as it had come.

Guilt was flooding him, he couldn’t believe Y/n had been struggling, that she’d hidden it from him.

She’d always been there for him, supportive, understanding, even when he was caught up in his own world.

And now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let her down.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the situation was suffocating.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he could think about was how she had been sitting there, probably feeling miserable, and he hadn’t even noticed.

The race, his career, all of it felt so insignificant compared to the thought of Y/n being alone and sick.

“Why didn’t she just tell me? I would’ve understood. I could’ve—”

Pietra stepped forward, her hand gently resting on his arm, grounding him in the moment.

“Lando, she didn’t want you to worry. She knew how much today meant to you. She didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Max nodded in agreement.

“She’s always there for you. But she’s not the type to let herself be a distraction, not when you’re in the zone like that. You know how she is, she cares about you more than anything, but she didn’t want to pull you away from your focus.”

Lando let out a long breath, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on his chest.

“I should’ve noticed,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I should’ve been paying more attention."

"You’re not a mind reader, Lando," Pietra said, her voice calm but firm.

Lando realized that she was right.

He quickly greeted the rest of his family and did some other duties before changing and heading back to the hotel.

Lando arrived at the hotel room, his body still buzzing from the race, but his mind consumed by a different kind of worry.

As soon as he entered, the first thing he did was quietly close the door behind him.

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the dim light from the lamps were the only sounds in the room.

His eyes immediately fell on your figure, still asleep, your peaceful face glowing softly under the sheets.

The sight of you, so vulnerable yet so beautiful, made his heart ache with both affection and guilt.

He quietly pulled a chair from the small desk and sat down beside the bed, never taking his eyes off you.

He wanted to be close to his girl, but he didn’t want to wake you.

He knew you needed rest, but the worry of the day, the worry about you, hadn’t let up.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

His fingers lingered there for a second before he let out a soft breath, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on his knee.

He could almost hear the questions running through his mind, wondering why you hadn’t told him what you had been feeling.

He could feel the weight of your absence, the quiet ache in his chest from not knowing exactly what had been going on with you.

The minutes seemed to stretch on, each tick of the clock amplifying his thoughts.

He hated this uncertainty, this feeling that something had been left unsaid.

Then, after what felt like forever, a soft groan escaped from your lips, and Lando’s attention snapped to her immediately.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light in the room.

Your gaze slowly focused on him, confusion settling on her face as she took in her surroundings.

Lando watched her with a mix of relief and concern, his heart lightening at the sight of you waking up but still heavy with the questions that lingered in his mind.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Lando said softly, his voice full of warmth and affection.

My vision cleared, and I smiled sleepily at him.

Lando’s heart squeezed.

"You’re awake. I’ve been here waiting for you to wake up for, like, ages now." He chuckled softly, though his eyes were still filled with concern.

"But seriously… why didn’t you tell me?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing on me.

My hand reached for his, finding his fingers weakly, and I squeezed them, my fingers trembling a bit.

"I didn’t want to be a burden," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn’t want to ruin your day or take away from the race. It was important to you. I just… I didn’t want to distract you."

Lando smiled at me softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"You’re never a burden, Y/n." He looked at me with such sincerity, it made my heart ache in the best way.

"You are always my priority, okay? Not the race, not the fans, not the win. You. Always."

I felt my heart flutter at his words, my eyes softening as I looked back at him.

The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill, and I could feel them welling up.

Being sick just makes people extra emotional, give it a break yeah?

"I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice breaking slightly.

Lando shook his head, his heart aching.

He leaned closer, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb brushing over my skin.

"You don’t have to apologize," he whispered.

"You never have to hide anything from me, especially not when it comes to you."

I felt the weight of his words, the tenderness in his touch, and I wanted so badly to just melt into him.

I was so grateful for him, for the way he always made me feel safe, loved, and heard.

Lando sat beside me on the bed, leaning back just enough to grab the water and medicine he’d set out earlier.

"You need to drink this," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

"Get some rest, and I’ll be right here with you. Just take it easy."

I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the glass of water he held out to me.

My fingers were still shaking slightly, but I took it from him gratefully.

There was a small, tired smile on my lips as I drank, and Lando’s eyes never left me.

He was watching me closely, making sure I was okay. It felt nice to be looked after this way.

After I finished the water, Lando sat back down next to me again, his hand finding mine once more.

"You don’t ever have to hide something like that from me, okay?" he said, his voice soft but serious.

"If something’s wrong, you have to tell me. Promise me you’ll tell me next time."

I looked up at him, my eyes full of emotion, and I nodded slowly.

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, and I felt a few of them slide down my cheeks.

Before I could say anything, Lando quickly wiped them away with his thumb, his touch light, tender.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

He slightly laughed, "You're such a crybaby when you're sick babe."

Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice full of love and affection.

"I love you, baby. I love you, and that’s all that matters." His voice was quiet but strong, filled with reassurance.

I pulled him closer, resting my head against his chest, letting out a small, exaggerated sigh.

"Mmm, this is the best pillow ever," I mumbled, half-laughing, half-groaning in exhaustion.

Lando wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tighter.

His chin rested on top of my head, and he chuckled softly.

"You come first," he said with a mock-serious tone, trying to sound all deep and dramatic.

"Always."

I snuggled in a little closer, feeling his warmth.

"Oh, I know now," I said, glancing up at him with a grin.

"You’re basically my personal butler, aren’t you? Always there when I need you."

He let out a dramatic gasp. "But of course! My whole existence is to serve you, my queen."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh.

"Thank you for being here," I said, the words half-sweet, half-teasing.

Lando smirked, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Please don't cry again... and well yeah, where else would I be? I’m not going anywhere."

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added,

"Besides, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. You know that, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, feeling him grin against the top of my head.

"Oh, I know," I said, playfully tapping his chest.

"You're my big soft marshmallow. I practically own you."

Lando chuckled, his arms tightening around me. "You absolutely do. And you’re not even sorry about it."

I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Well, I am your number one priority, aren’t I?"

His eyes sparkled with affection, and he pulled me a little closer.

"You’re my number one everything, Y/n. No competition."

I snorted, unable to help the grin that spread across my face.

"Good. Glad we’re clear on that."

As we sat there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside felt miles away.

All that mattered was us, his heartbeat, my tired sighs, and the way we fit together like we’d always been meant to.

For a moment, everything else faded, and all I could think was: Yeah, I’m the lucky one.

The end

[omgfangirlland]

I'm going to need all of you to hear me out on what I'm about to spew, but I have yandere!batfam brain rot, and I just came across Yan!girldad!nolan grayson.

HEAR ME OUT!

Putting a page break here cuz idk how long this will be-

So- the usual neglected batsis that as a youngster craved the attention of her fam, but after being brushed away, after being ignored, after being straight up forgotten about, says fuck it, y'all aren't worth my love, I'll use the Wayne money to do as I please.

So she does. She uses the monthly allowance that is on auto pay straight to her card to do arts, to paint her heart away, to draw and play video games, to fund and pay off anything from homeless shelters to medical bills, trying to make a dent into the Wayne fortune both in selfish and non-selfish ways. She's basically a petty tween.

But then she wakes up with powers. She thinks she's a meta- batman doesn't like metas, that's what she thinks, she doesn't know Bruce doesn't want metas in Gotham due to Gotham being ground zero for meta trafficking. Boom, panic.

I think she has powers like flying, super strength, and like immediate healing if not "iron skin" like Superman. So she wakes because she hits the ceiling due to flying while asleep. She panics, falls, maybe breaks something, nobody comes to check on her-

Now, she always has toyed with the idea of leaving, but this? THIS? Breaking point, she packs necessities and the Wayne card and says bye-bye Gotham, good morning... Chicago? NYC? Idk, whichever place Omni man lives in ig.

The batfam, of course, doesn't notice. In this universe, I think even Alfred won't have been paying that much attention to batsis, man's too busy. So what if one day he does his rounds, cleaning, opens a door he hasn't been in a while.

The room is dusty. Dusty beyond hell, and one singular photo of batsis at like a kindergarten graduation makes him drop everything, including his heart. Old man goes feral, absolutely crazy, because where the fuck is this kid, this little baby, that he went and picked up because Bruce couldn't be bothered.

The batfam goes crazy too. In the mean time-

Batsis is, surprisingly, living her best life. Initially, she planned on getting an under the table job- clean a bar, babysit, be the errand girl of some shady drag dealer, etc. But Nolan sees her while she tries to get her powers under control, shakily flying, accidentally blowing to pieces a tree as she leans against it.

Omni-man as he lurks in the shadows: Debbie would love a daughter. I would love a daughter.

Batsis would call it kidnapping, Nolan calls it adopting without extra steps. Debbie takes one look at this shaken kid and immediately goes mama mode while reprimanding Nolan about taking a kid off the streets and not warning her so she could prepare better.

Mark? It takes about 2 hours before he realizes that they can be training buddies and that they have similar taste in some things. That's his baby sister. No arguments, just baby sis. Batsis? Much like a hungry, cold cat, she accepts her fate. It does feel nice to finally have some attention on her.

So she trains with Nolan and Mark, gets great, becomes a reluctant superhero, deliberately ignores Nolan's rants about her becoming such a great warrior, his little girl on the way of becoming the greatest conquror. Gothamite batsis just shrugs it off as just a Thursday.

Back with the batfam, pure chaos. Everyone is in shambles. How could they forget about a whole kid? Their siblings, Bruce's youngest daughter. Guilt is slowly turning into madness, and madness is slowly turning into a need to prove they can be better, that they weren't deliberately overlooking an innocent child because of personal pettiness, they were just distracted but now they'll right their wrongs.

Bonus p1:

Superman finally meeting batsis: What do you mean you're Bruce's kid? 😃 What do you mean you're a meta and instead of coming to uncle Clark you go and get adopted by murderous Omni-man? 🙂 What do you mean you kinda approve of him killing his enemies? 🫠

Batsis just wants Joker to die.

Bonus pt2:

Dick: What do you mean she's calling that other Grayson boy big brother? 😀

Damien: What do you mean I have another sibling? What do you mean she's calling that purple alien bastard her little brother?! I blame you, father.

Bonus pt3:

John Constantine: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ONE OF BATMAN'S KIDS IMMORTALITY AND MAGICAL POWERS?

The deity/entity batsis has been depicting in her paintings for years: *shrugs* I was bored, my little priestess was sad, she's not anymore 🤷

That's the plot twist, batsis is actually magical, but her powers work the way they do because that's the only way she knows how to fight with them. Magic isn't on her thought as a possibility, even if she was into the occult.

Cue John drinking for 3 days straight before having the courage(or will) to go to the Bat.

[aajjks]

Broke Boy, Fake Girlfriend (m)

synopsis. Your annoying roommate, Jungkook’s shameless fake dating act goes hilariously wrong when he thinks he can charm you into paying for his café splurge, but you turn the tables with some dangerously sweet flirtation.

pairings: jungkook x fem!reader.

genre: 18+, crack, roommate au.

warnings: 18+, fâkë dätïng tròpë, châôtïc flïrtïng, brókë bøy Jûngkook, tëâsïng, ëmbârrássïng mômënts, önë-sïdëd crùsh, pûblïc hümïlïâtïön, pówër shïft, hëâvy tënsïön, tëâsïng bântër, spïcy flïrtâtïön, crïngë mômënts, slöw bûrn.

note. I can’t thank you guys enough for so much love on the both parts so I thought maybe I should give you another one. Also, I found this GIF on Pinterest so credits to owner And Let’s just hope you guys would like this as well and tell me what do you think of the chaos and y’all can talk to him whenever you want. ENJOY.

“My girlfriend will pay for this.”

How do you always end up in this situation?

You blink.

You’re standing in line at a café, hands casually tucked in your pockets, minding your own business when those words hit you like a freight train.

Jungkook’s standing at the counter, a devilish grin plastered across his face, watching you with those damn puppy dog eyes. His tattooed hand casually gestures to you, like this whole scenario is as normal as breathing.

The barista, the one who’s been shamelessly flirting with him this entire time, looks back and forth between you two, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh—;” she giggles, voice breathy. “That’s so sweet of you.”

Sweet.

Sweet would be not dragging you into his latest ridiculous plan just because he’s broke again after spending all his money on gaming skins and who knows what else.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, my baby’s got me,” Jungkook hums, stretching lazily against the counter, his hoodie pulling up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs. Intentional. “She takes such good care of me.”

You swear you could hear the little pitter-patter of his fan club forming in the background.

‘My baby?’

You grit your teeth, gripping your wallet like it might suddenly escape your clutches. “You—;” you inhale, trying to remain calm. “I’m paying?”

“Obviously.” Jungkook doesn’t even hesitate.

God, he’s insufferable.

“Since when are we dating?”

Jungkook gasps.

Gasped.

He puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt and makes a dramatic expression that makes you almost cringe.

“Babe. What do you mean?” His voice cracks with that exaggerated hurt, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

The barista giggles again, and you can see the sparkles in her eyes as she watches this whole ridiculous exchange.

Jungkook still has that pleading look, trying to play it off like you’re the one at fault for not realizing you were in the middle of his latest fake-dating fantasy.

You both know he’s out of cash and desperate.

He can’t possibly pay for this.

You should say no. You should do the right thing.

You should humiliate him right here in front of the cute barista and walk away, satisfied in your moral high ground.

But then—

“I’d get her anything off the menu,” Jungkook sighs, voice dropping an octave, his gaze lingering on your lips like he’s about to pull the most dramatic move of the century.

“She’s my princess. My world.”

Oh no.

Oh, he thinks you won’t play along.

And that—that little shit—that’s when you realize.

Jungkook’s not just doing the broke, flirting for sympathy… act. No, he’s flipping the script. He’s going full-on fake boyfriend mode.

He’s giving you those eyes, the ones that usually make girls melt on the spot.

His voice is suddenly, smooth and heavy, like he actually wants this to be real.

And then? The barista is still watching.

Oh, you know exactly what he’s doing.

You step closer, fingers lightly brushing against his chest as you lean in, your lips barely a whisper from his ear.

He freezes, clearly not prepared for the full-on flirtation storm that’s coming his way.

“Kookieee,” you say, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Of course, I’m paying for my baby.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he makes this little sound—like he’s actually short-circuiting. He’s malfunctioning, visibly thrown off by how casually you’re playing along.

The barista is living for this. She’s practically sparkling now, too, and you know she’s ready to ship this fake couple straight to the moon.

But Jungkook? Jungkook’s dying.

He’s still standing there, mouth hanging slightly open, blinking rapidly like he needs to reset his brain, but you’re not done yet.

You lean in just a little bit more, hand still firmly placed against his chest, pressing your body close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

His breathing gets heavier, a little shaky. And then you make your move.

You brush your fingers down his shirt, just enough to tease him, watching the way his whole body locks up, like he’s trying not to make a scene.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. He just stands there like the world’s hottest, most embarrassed mess.

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re all flustered,” you murmur, leaning back slightly to get a good look at him, your fingers brushing his jaw.

His skin is so warm, so soft, and it’s making your whole body heat up.

Fuck, he’s cute.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to respond— he’s too busy replaying every single moment you’ve touched him in the last few seconds, and he’s mentally begging for you to finish the job.

He’s literally so embarrassing, but for the first time in your life, you had fun embarrassing him.

You take a step back, giving him just a little space. He’s still staring at you like you’ve just turned his life upside down.

Good. You’ve won.

“Let’s play, babe,” you say with a smirk, voice lighter now. He’s completely melting.

You swipe your card, taking your drinks.

You turn toward the door, but before you leave, you lean in one last time, brushing past him just close enough for your lips to graze his ear.

Oh, this is fun.

“You owe me, babe,” you whisper.

And with that, you leave him there, dazed, red-faced, and completely undone, just standing there like a mess in front of the barista, who is looking at him like she’s just witnessed an angel descend from heaven.

You walk out of the café like you’ve just done your civic duty in the most chaotic, teasing way possible. The power is all yours.

Victory. And Jungkook? Well, he’s got a lot to think about.

And a raging boner to take care of.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to their s/o cutely asking for kiss

Request: hiii my love🥹🥹 i love your writing so so much (。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ i have a request for you if you’re up to it!! how would svt ot13 react to reader asking (cutely) for kisses? only if you’re up to it ofc!! i feel like your writing style would suit something like this so well eeeee sjkshak ♡＾▽＾♡ i hope you have a lovely day !!! (´▽｀).。ｏ♡

A/N: It may not be perfect and up to expectations, but I really hope you like it.

Content: Fluff and me cussing because I got no self control, sorry.

Seungcheol: He’d immediately melt, his heart practically liquefying at the sight—your cuteness. Seriously, this man has no defenses against it. His gaze soften with that soft, lovesick gaze of his. He’s way too in love to even pretend like he's cool about it. His hand finds the small of your back as he pulls you closer, his warmth enveloping you completely. He’d plant a featherlight kiss on your forehead—because god forbid you think he doesn't appreciate you being this adorable, then, his lips brush yours, soft and deliberate like he’s savoring every second. His other hand tilts your chin up just slightly, and the kiss deepens—not rushed, but slow and intoxicating, the kind that leaves you feeling weightless. He’s totally aware of the power you hold over him. You're the softest, most lovable thing he’s ever seen, and he’s fully prepared to kiss the hell out of you whenever you ask (•̀o•́)ง

Jeonghan: This man. This Man. He wouldn't give in so easily, because where's the fun in that? The moment you looked at him with those big, pleading eyes, he'd tilt his head, smirk tugging at the corners of his lips like he's got all the time in the world to tease you. And he does because he's Jeonghan, and your patience is his favorite thing to toy with. He'd wait until you started to pout, yes, the pout, and then it's game over. His smirk would break. And then, boom-attack mode activated. He'd lean in, catching you completely off guard as he kissed you everywhere. Forehead, cheeks, nose, lips-this man's got zero chill when it comes to your cuteness. You'd barely have time to breathe before he's back for more, because yeah, he's a menace, but he's also so fucking whipped.

Joshua: Joshua fucking Hong. He's a soft yet calculated menace (evil twin for a reason) who knows exactly how to make you melt. He'd glance at you, his ears turning the most adorable shade of pink, before reaching out to cup your face so softly. And then, The kiss. It'd be so gentle, so sweet, but Joshua isn't done. He'd pull back just slightly, only to press pecks all over your face. You'd think he's finished, but then-bam-he's back for your lips again, It's enough to make you want to scream into a pillow, because how is this man real?! He's soft and teasing and completely ruining you all at once, and he's smiling so sweetly the entire time, like he doesn't know he knows the chaos he's causing.

Jun: Before you could even blink, he’d lean in, his hands cradling your face and start smothering you in kisses. And I mean everywhere. Your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose—nothing is safe from his assault of affection. You’d be giggling uncontrollably because, how do you not laugh when someone is this aggressively adorable? And when your giggles turn into that breathless kind of laughter that makes your cheeks hurt, Jun would pause for just a second, giving you the softest look ever (ಥ﹏ಥ) before diving back in for more. Seriously, are you kidding me? This is the cutest shit ever.

Hoshi: Soonyoung would have zero chill like a tiger. Like, none. You’d ask for kisses, and this man would scream, “KWON SOONYOUNG WILL DELIVER!” And then, boom—couch tackle. I’m not kidding; he’d literally throw himself at you like it’s a wrestling match, his weight knocking you back into the cushions as he grins like an absolute madman. He’d pepper your face with so many pecks that your cheeks would be flushed, your hair a mess, and your stomach would hurt from laughing so much, but does Soonyoung stop? Absolutely not. He’s all-in because of how cute you are. I mean, come on. This man’s kisses are a fucking serotonin boost (｡♥‿♥｡)

Wonwoo: Wonwoo would literally freeze, like his brain just blue-screened. You’d watch as he blinked at you, clearly trying to process how cutely you asked. The way his ears would start turning the tiniest bit pink. But then, oh my god, the smile. That shy, little barely there smile would creep onto his face, and it’s game over for you. He’d lean in so carefully, as if you might shatter, and place the softest fuckass kiss on your lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, “You’re adorable,” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Sir? Hello?? And the way he looks at you after, like you just handed him the moon? Yeah.

Woozi: Flustered Woozi is a whole mood, and you’d get front-row seats to the show. The moment the word ‘kisses’ leaves your lips, he’d stammer, his face turning about twelve shades of red faster than you could blink. It’s adorable, but also, Jihoon? Get a grip, bro. He’d try to act all nonchalant, but you know he’s losing his mind. Shit, this is red too. BUT no matter how flustered he gets, he can’t resist you. He’d finally lean in, quick as lightning, pressing a shy kiss to your lips before pulling back. He’d then grumble something like, “Don’t ask like that, it’s too much,” while still avoiding your eyes because you’re TOO cute, and he can’t handle it. Honestly, Woozi being this soft is enough to make you (us) want to sob (｡T ω T｡)

Dokyeom: Oh, Seokmin. Sweet, sunshine Seokmin. His face would light up like a goddamn Christmas tree the second the words leave your mouth. “Of course!” he’d exclaim, already grinning from ear to ear. He’d lean in with all the drama of a lead in a romantic K-drama, his hands cradling your face as he starts peppering sweet, playful kisses across your lips and cheeks. He’d be giggling the whole time, because your cuteness is literally too much for him. Honestly, are you fucking kidding me?! The way he’d pull back just to give you that soft, adoring smile before diving back in for more? Yeah, you’re ruined. Completely and utterly ruined ♡

Mingyu: He lives for riling you up. The second you ask, he’d shoot you this cheeky smirk, leaning closer like he’s trying to interrogate you. “Oh? You want kisses from me? Is this a bribe?” he’d say, all smug, because he’s that guy. And before you can even start protesting because seriously, who bribes for kisses?!—he’s already scooping you up like you weigh nothing (show-off) and smothering you in kisses. Like, everywhere. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose—hell, he might even go for your hands if he’s feeling extra (which he is). “I’m kidding,” he’d whisper in between kisses, his voice all soft and warm. “I’d kiss you all day if you let me.” And the way he’s looking at you? Like you hung the damn stars in the sky? Yeah, Mingyu wins. We all lose. Someone call a medic, because this is too much.

Minghao: Minghao would give you the look. You know, the one that’s equal parts of amusement and disbelief, like he’s genuinely questioning you? “Kisses, huh?” He’d make you repeat yourself. Not once, but twice. Because apparently, your cute little request wasn’t enough for him the first time. The audacity! But oh, when you finally repeat yourself, all shy and adorable, his smirk would soften, and he’d lean in to place the most deliberate, gentle kiss on your lips. And then he’d just pull back, shrugging like it’s no big deal like he’s completely unfazed. But don’t let that fool you—inside, he’s melting, because how are you this fucking cute?! And honestly? Same, Minghao. Same.

Seungkwan: Sweet, dramatic, extra Seungkwan. He’d gasp so loudly you’d think you just insulted his entire family tree. “Aigoo, you want kisses from me? What are you, a baby?” he’d exclaim, all mock-offended and ridiculous. But then, you pout. And here’s where the real magic happens. Because Seungkwan? This man would immediately crumble. Before you know it, he’s absolutely peppering your face with kisses and in between, he’d be muttering something like, “Why did I tease you? I’m such an idiot. You’re too cute.” He’d pull back just to check if you’re smiling again, and when you are? More kisses. Because Seungkwan doesn’t half-ass anything, especially when it comes to you.

Vernon: The moment you ask him for kisses, Vernon is the type to get caught off guard so easily, it’s kind of adorable. “Oh, uh… sure?” he’d say but he’s secretly dying inside, because how could you be this cute asking for a kiss?! Vernon would lean in as if he’s got it all under control, but you just know his heart is doing somersaults as he places the softest kiss on your lips. When he pulls back, laughing a little, he’d look at you with that adorable grin of his, completely charmed by your cuteness. “You’re cute for asking like that, though,” he’d say, shaking his head. Because, really, how the hell did you get so cute, and how are you making him feel this flustered over something so simple?! You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and he knows it.

Dino: Okay, can we just talk about how freaking excited Dino would get? He’d practically bounce in place, heart eyes and filled with excitement, as if you just offered him a lifetime supply of ice cream. It’s honestly ridiculous, and you’d probably start laughing at his reaction, which would make him even more fluffy. He’d lean in quickly, planting an exaggerated kiss on your lip. “You’re the cutest thing ever!” he’d shout, and you’d barely have time to process before he’s back again, giving you another kiss, this time on the cheek, because he can and also, he’s obsessed with how you look when you ask. Dino would be so so fuzzy.

[redvexillum]

@alastorthirsty thank you for making the request! This ain't silly and over-the-top at all. I mean...did'ya look at some of my other requests *cough* I love this ask because I can go full on drama-mode and not sure if you know this about me, but my favourite animal is a drama-llama. Haha! Anyway, I realllllly indulged in this one, so bless you for giving me the opportunity 💖👉👈

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, possessive!alastor, p in v, established relationship, love making, gentle s♡x, c♡nnilingus, cuddling, soft!alastor, demisexual!alastor, light b♡ndage with shadow tentacles, smuff (smut + fluff)

Alastor’s fingers dug into your wrist like talons, yanking you through the narrow hotel hallway, up the creaking stairs, and into a suffocating, shadow-cloaked corridor. The acrid stench of fire and ash clung to your skin, a reminder of the chaos that had unfolded – the devastation of Vee’s tower, the flames still dancing in your memory.  

Everything felt so surreal, the shock still pulsing through your veins, leaving you breathless, your mind scrambling to catch up with the frantic pace he set.  

Your legs struggled to keep up, each hurried step barely matching his long, relentless strides. He hadn’t looked at you. Not once. There was no concern in his eyes, no reassurance in his touch – just cold purpose.  

His grip was iron, biting into your flesh with a fierceness that made you wince. You could feel the sharp edge of his claws digging into your skin, a silent punishment for your recklessness.  

“A-Alastor...it hurts,” you whimpered, your voice fragile, cracking under the weight of pain and fear. Your words seemed to snap something in him – his shoulders stiffened, his jaw clenched, and without a word, he loosened his grip just enough for you to breathe. But his pace, his determination, never wavered. He was a storm, sweeping you up in his fury, and you were powerless to stop him.  

The moment you crossed the threshold into his room, the door slammed shut with a finality that echoed through the dark space. Your heart pounded, the rhythm erratic and wild, each beat thundering in your ears. The familiar atmosphere of his room – rich with his scent, a dark blend of metal and the bayou – washed over you, yet it offered no comfort.  

Instead, it only magnified the tension crackling between you, the unspoken anger simmering beneath his silence.  

Your mind flashed back to Vox, the twisted grin on his face as he flaunted his control over you. The Overlord had known exactly who you were and, more importantly, who you belonged to.  

For nearly a year, you had been nothing more than a pawn in his cruel game, locked away in his opulent prison, displayed like a trophy to mock Alastor. You had heard his taunts in the darkness, seen his cold, mirthless eyes as he laughed – Vox had relished every moment of your captivity.  

You had been so foolish, thinking you could appeal to him, thinking you could change anything. Guilt ate away at you, bitter and unrelenting, as memories of your naivety surged back. You had thought that maybe you could free Angel Dust from Valentino’s grasp by being Vox’s friend, by playing along with his twisted games.  

How utterly wrong you had been. Your idealism had shattered, and now all you were left with was the shame of your failures.  

And yet, even as guilt weighed heavy on your chest, there was relief – a deep, painful relief. Alastor had come for you, breaking through Vox’s fortress to drag you out of Vox’s grasp.  

But at what cost? 

A burning flush crept up your cheeks, the sting of shame and self-loathing settling deep in your chest. The adrenaline that had fuelled you, kept you moving, now drained away, leaving only raw, vulnerable emotions in its wake. You had wanted to help, to do something right. But instead, you had been nothing but a burden, another problem for Alastor to fix. Your heart ached with the weight of your failure, the knowledge that, once again, you had only caused trouble.  

“I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath in the thick silence. But the words felt hollow, empty. Because all you had done was create another mess, another disaster – one that nearly cost you, and him, everything.   

Before an apology could form on your lips, Alastor’s hand was suddenly cradling your face, fingers warm against your tear-streaked cheeks. Through your blurry vision, you saw that ever-present grin, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart thump faster, harder, against your chest. Your lips trembled, unsure of what was coming next. Would he yell at you? Scold you for your recklessness? Or worse, would he finally grow tired of you – of all your mistakes? 

You waited, bracing yourself for the inevitable sting of rejection or anger, but it never came. Instead, Alastor leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, featherlight kiss. It felt so delicate, almost accidental, as if the brief touch wasn’t meant to happen. But then, before you could process it, he moved closer, crowding your body against the door, trapping you between the cool wood and the heat radiating from him.  

The next kiss was different – urgent, ferocious, and brimming with unspoken need. His hands, trembling ever so slightly, traced the contours of your face before sliding down your neck, lingering as though savouring every inch of your skin. Then, in a swift, possessive motion, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, every inch of his body pressing into yours.  

Kisses came, over and over again, each one deeper, more demanding, as if he were trying to reclaim every moment you had been apart, every second lost to Vox’s cruel game. When your lips parted, gasping for air, he didn’t hesitate – his tongue slipped past the seam of your lips, exploring, tasting, claiming every part of you with fevered desperation. He devoured you, marking you in a way that felt primal, raw, each movement of his mouth more insistent than the last.  

You felt him – all of him – pressed hard against your navel, the heat between you growing with every passing second. His lips left yours, trailing a path of fire down your jawline, grazing the sensitive skin of your neck with gasping, hungry breaths. But just as quickly as the tension built, something in him shifted. His muscles tensed, his body stiffening against yours, and then he stopped.  

Your hands, still clutching the lapels of his jacket, trembled as you tried to catch your breath. You looked down at him, confused, his face buried in the crook of your neck, unmoving, like a statue. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, and you could feel the barely contained tremor running through him. His ears twitched, laying flat against his head before perking up once more, as if caught between conflicting instincts.  

Suddenly, he pulled back, the air around him crackling with static, a low buzz of white noise filling the space. His eyes flashed – flickering between red radio dials and his usual, sharp, black slits. That ever-present grin twisted, tightening into something more akin to a scowl, a dangerous edge creeping into it. Unexpectedly, he grabbed you, dragging you toward the bayou side of his room.  

“Al-Alastor?” you called out, your voice small and hesitant. He let you go abruptly, and with a sharp snap of his fingers, an ornate porcelain bathtub appeared in front of you, its gold clawed feet gleaming under the dim light. Hot, steaming water cascaded from the silver shower head, the water draining to who-knows-where.  

Before you could react, dark tendrils – his tendrils – wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground and unceremoniously dumping you into the bath, clothes and all. The warmth of the water soaked through your clothes, sending a rush of heat through your body. You gasped, coughing as water splashed into your mouth.  

“Alastor!” you sputtered, blinking up at him, confused, your face drenched as you wiped the water from your eyes.  

He stood over you, straight-backed, shoulders rigid, his hands neatly clasped behind him as if he were merely surveying a piece of art. His crimson eyes glinted down at you with cool detachment, that maddening grin still plastered on his face. 

“You don’t smell like me,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-face, but with an underlying possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine.  

You blinked, still dazed, unsure of what he meant, your heart pounding in your chest. “W-what?” 

His grin widened then, dark amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned in, his shadow casting over you. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll make sure you do.” 

With a sharp snap of his fingers, a bar of soap materialized in Alastor’s hand – the kind with a woodsy, metallic scent, popular in Cannibal Town. You had never been fond of its pungent odour, but you knew Alastor adored it, and at this moment, that was all that mattered.  

His focus was singular, almost obsessive, as he leaned forward, the water streaming down his face, drenching his usually pristine hair. His movements were slow but deliberate, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he undressed you, peeling the wet fabric from your skin.  

You caught the slight twitch in his left eye, the tremor in his fingers – he was lost deep in his thoughts, buried somewhere you couldn’t reach. His silence was suffocating, filled with the weight of everything he wasn't saying. As your clothes fell away, baring your vulnerable form before him, your shoulders curled in, and your hands moved to shield your chest.  

But Alastor wasn’t having it. His long fingers captured your wrists, pulling your hand away, gently but firmly. Then, with deliberate care, he began to massage the soap into your skin, the rough texture gliding across your wet body.  

“Where did he touch you, darling?” His voice was deceptively light, playful even, but the malice underneath was unmistakable. His question dripped with venom, barely concealed beneath the surface. “You didn’t let him...” His hand, still holding the soap, drifted up your arm as the hot water poured over both of you, saturating your senses. Alastor, now fully in the tub with you, crouched low, his eyes boring into yours, searching for any hint of truth, any flicker of something unsaid.  

Your wet hair clung to your face and neck as you shook your head, droplets falling in rivulets down your cheeks. “He didn’t touch me like that, Alastor,” you whispered, your voice soft yet steady. For the first time since he rescued you, you found the courage to reach out. Your fingers trembled as they brushed a few strands of his soaked hair back from his face, your touch tender, hesitant.  

Alastor inched backward until his back hit the edge of the tub, his legs unfolding slightly as he stretched out beneath you. You straddled his hips, your thighs brushing against the rough fabric of his wet clothes, the friction sending a shiver through your core. Your chest pressed against his soaked shirt as you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.  

“I promise,” you murmured, your lips ghosting over his as if your words could seep into his very soul. His eyes fluttered shut at the intimacy, his grip tightening on your hips, pulling you closer, closer until there was no space between your bodies.  

“I hate the scent of that noisy picture box,” Alastor muttered against your lips, stealing another kiss, his voice low and rough with barely contained frustration. “Sharp, unpleasant,” he continued, his hips grinding into you, the friction sending jolts of heat through your body. The pressure of him, firm and insistent against your core, drew a soft stifled moan from your lips. “Masking everything,” he growled, the words vibrating against your mouth.  

Your hands moved of their own accord, fingers tracing down the lapels of his jacket, your lips trailing soft, lingering kisses along his jaw, down the curve of his neck. One button, then another, came undone beneath your touch, revealing the sharp jut of his collarbone, his skin slick with water. He groaned low in his throat, his hands finding their way between your bodies, undoing the button and zipper of his pants with swift, practised ease.  

The moment his hot shaft pressed against your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through you. His hips moved slowly, tortuously so, grinding up and down, creating an unbearable heat that built with each stroke. “Did you miss this, darling?” Alastor murmured, his voice like velvet, thick with desire, as his hips continued their slow rhythm against you.  

Your head fell forward, a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you bit down on your lower lip, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your throat. But Alastor wouldn’t allow it. His clawed fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face until your eyes met his. “Don’t hide,” he whispered, his voice laced with command and something darker, more animalistic. “Not when I finally found you.” 

The sound of the shower created a steady backdrop, like heavy rain pouring down, but all that mattered, all you could feel, was him. His body pressed against yours, his hands gripping your hips, his gaze locking you in place as if daring you to look away. And at that moment, there was nothing else – no past, no fear, just the two of you, lost in each other.  

Slowly, you dragged your sensitive clit along the edge of his cock, teasing him with every slight movement. His low, throaty sigh filled the space between you as you positioned yourself above him, your core hovering just over his tip. His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, softened with raw desire, a hunger that mirrored your own.  

With purposeful slowness, you sank down onto him, feeling the pleasant stretch as he filled you, inch by inch, the heat between your bodies sparking into something untamable.  

Alastor hissed through clenched teeth as your tight warmth enveloped him, his grip on your hips tightening, claws digging into your skin as though afraid you’d slip away. The moment you let out a soft, breathless moan, he responded. His hips bucked upward, thrusting deeper into you, your walls clinging to him, making every movement feel electric.  

The slick sound of wet skim meeting wet fabric filled your ears, mingling with the steady beat of the water raining down from the shower. It was as if the outside world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you and the pleasure that built between your bodies.  

“A-Al,” you gasped, your voice trembling as your fingers clawed at his shoulders, gripping the wet, rough fabric of his soaked suit jacket. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide as he watched you, every reaction you made, every shiver of pleasure fuelling his own.  

Without warning, Alastor’s shadowy tendrils wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly off his lap, suspending your body in midair. The tentacles curled around your calves, your thighs, spreading you open for him, baring your slick, pulsing core to his ravenous gaze.  

You wobbled, barely able to keep your balance as you were held aloft, your hands clutching his shoulders for stability. But before you could stabilize, Alastor surged forward, thrusting himself into you with a brutal intensity, his hips pounding against yours.  

His pants had slipped down to circle his ankles, but that didn’t slow him. His sharp teeth gritted in pleasure as he watched the way your bodies connected, his cock disappearing inside you over and over again, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy crashing through you. 

His pace was erratic, frantic, as if he couldn't get enough of you, and your moans only spurred him on. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your face flushed with heat, and just as you were about to come undone, he pulled out, leaving you empty and aching.  

A needy whimper escaped your lips, the absence of him unbearable, but before you could protest, Alastor was on his knees before you, his eyes flickered up meeting your own.  

The tendrils adjusted your height, keeping your legs spread wide as he dove forward, his mouth latching onto your dripping pussy. The water from the shower ran in rivulets down your body, tracing the curves of your breasts and rolling over your heated skin, but all you could focus on was the feel of his tongue.  

He plunged it inside you, swirling and licking, tasting you with desperate fervour. His hands gripped your backside, kneading the soft flesh as he feasted on you, his moans vibrating against your sensitive folds.  

A sharp cry tore from your throat as he sucked and nibbled at your clit, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You could feel your pussy clenching, grasping at nothing as his tongue worked you over, your head spinning with the intensity of it all.  

Your body tilted backward, but more tendrils sprouted to hold you in place, keeping you suspended as Alastor continued his ministrations, devouring you as though he couldn’t get enough. He was a man stranded in the desert, finally taking the first gulp of water.  

The tension inside you built, higher and higher, your muscles clenching tighter with every flick of his tongue. His moans were muffled against your flesh, but they only heightened your arousal, the vibrations making you gasp. Your climax hovered just unreachable, so close, and as his tongue flicked over your clit in rapid succession, your entire body tensed.  

“Al-Al-Al!” you cried, your voice breaking as the crest of your orgasm finally surged through you. Your muscles clenched, your back arched, and waves of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in the sensation. Alastor didn’t let up, his tongue relentless as he rode out your climax, dragging every last ounce of pleasure from your trembling body until you were left breathless and spent, your heart thundering in your chest.  

But before you could fully come down from the high, Alastor stood, his cock hard and dripping. He slammed his hips into yours, his cock burying itself deep inside you, filling you in one swift motion. His balls slapped against your soaked skin from the sheer force of his thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Each time his thick, blunt tip pushed against your sensitive spots, all you could do was cry out, your voice lost behind the steady beat of the shower.  

“Darling...darling,” he moaned, his voice ragged, full of need. His claws dug into your hips, pulling you closer as he relentlessly drove into you, his hips snapping forward with wild, desperate force. His movement became erratic, his breaths coming in short gasps, and you felt the trembling in his muscles as he pushed himself deeper, chasing the same release that had just consumed you.  

When his body finally gave in, he groaned softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His cock pulsed as he spilled hot, thick cum inside you. He slowed, his thrusts becoming shallow, tender, as if savouring the moment, each gentle motion prolonging the feeling of you milking every last drop from him.  

With a final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you completely, pressing against your trembling walls until you were pressed right into his hilt. The tendrils of shadow that had suspended you vanished, and your body felt heavy and spent.  

Alastor pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, his claws gently pricking the soft flesh of your back. His chest heaved with each breath, his face pressing into your hair as he held you close, his heart thundering against yours. You could hear it, or perhaps it was your own heartbeat, pounding in your ears as he held you, locking in each other’s embrace, under the rain of the shower.  

The heat of the water cascaded down your bodies, but all you could feel was his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held you as if he would never let go. His silence spoke volumes, the words he couldn’t say hanging in the air between you. He didn’t need to say them – his touch, the way he clung to you, said it all.  

He had missed you, more than words could express. There hadn’t been a moment where you weren’t on his mind, and now that he had your back, he seemed frozen in time, desperate to savour this moment for eternity.  

You rested your head against his chest, the sound of the water blending with the rhythmic thumping of your hearts. Neither of you moved, content to simply exist in the quiet, shared warmth of one another, as the rest of Hell faded away.  

Follow #vexitober 2024 to read my questionable kink/fluff stories!

[natsaffection]

I have a platonic, non smut request if you’re down! Nat x fem!reader, they’re a couple and live in a neighborhood w a girl who’s young (5 or smth) . The girl is sweet and has lemonade stands in front of her house n stuff so that’s how nat and reader interact w her. One day, the girl runs to nat and reader’s house, banging on the door begging to be let in because her mom’s boyfriend beat her up or was threatening to. Nat and reader let her in immediately and go into protection mode, even when the bf starts spitting lies, blaming the girl.

This was inspired by a video I saw where a neighbor was protecting a girl and thought it would work perfectly w nat given her own red room history n stuff. I feel like she would tolerate no BS. I know this is very different from what u normally write so I hope it’s ok 🫶

Through Darkness | N.R

Warnings: Domestic Violants, Threatening to hurt a child, mentioned of Bruises, Happy end!!

Word count: 5,4k

A/n: That was the sweetest thing I've ever written. But I needed help, so I watched We Bought a Zoo with Scarlett while I was writing.🫂

Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water. Her sharp eyes watched you as you bustled around the kitchen, preparing dinner. The scent of fresh basil and tomatoes filled the room, making the house feel even more like a home. It had been a few months since they moved into this quiet neighborhood. After everything Natasha had been through, the chaos and destruction, the idea of a peaceful life seemed foreign to her. But here, with you by her side, she began to understand what peace could feel like.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” you said, looking up from the pot you were stirring. Your smile was one Natasha had grown fond of. Warm, welcoming, and full of love. It was a smile that made Natasha’s heart ache with how much you meant to her. She smiled back, setting down her glass and moving to stand next to you. “It smells fantastic. You always manage to make something special out of so little.”

You chuckled softly. “Years of practice. Plus, I had to learn to keep up with you.” Before Natasha could respond, a high-pitched voice outside caught her attention. “Lemonade! Fresh lemonade! Only fifty cents a cup!”

Both of you turned to the window that overlooked the front yard. There, on the sidewalk across the street, stood a little girl, no older than five. Her brown curls bounced as she enthusiastically waved a homemade sign. Next to her was a small table with a pitcher of lemonade and a few paper cups. You smiled affectionately. “She’s out there almost every day. Have you seen her?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed her a few times. Sweet kid.”

“Let’s go say hello.” you suggested, already wiping your hands on a dish towel. “And maybe grab some lemonade.” Natasha hesitated for a moment, but the gentle encouragement in your eyes was enough. “Alright.” she agreed with a smile.

Together, you left the house and crossed the street. The little girl’s face lit up as she saw you approaching. “Hi!” she called out cheerfully, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “Do you want some lemonade?” You knelt down to her level, your smile gentle. “We’d love some. What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m Lily!” the girl said proudly, carefully pouring lemonade into two cups. Natasha handed her a dollar bill. “Keep the change, Lily.” Her eyes widened, and she beamed at Natasha. “Thank you! My mom says it’s important to save money, and I want to buy a new doll.”

“That’s a great goal.” you said, taking a cup from Lily. “I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha. We live right across the street.”

“Are you married?” Lily asked innocently, and her question caught Natasha off guard. You laughed softly and glanced at Natasha. “Not yet, but maybe one day.” Natasha felt a warmth spread through her chest at your words. She had never thought about marriage before, but the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched now.

Lily nodded seriously, as if your answer made perfect sense. “You should be. You’re both really nice.” Natasha and you exchanged a look, both touched by the child’s innocent wisdom. You stayed with Lily for a few more minutes, chatting about her lemonade business and the dolls she wanted to buy. Natasha found herself relaxing more than she had in weeks, and the simple joy of the moment eased some of the tension she had been carrying.

As you said your goodbyes and headed back to your house, you took Natasha’s hand and intertwined your fingers. “She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, she is. She reminds me that there’s good in the world.” You squeezed her hand gently. “And that’s exactly what we’re fighting for.” Natasha smiled, feeling a sense of peace spread through her. In this quiet neighborhood, with you by her side and a little girl selling lemonade, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found a place where she truly belonged.

The days settled into a pleasant rhythm. Natasha and you looked forward to the moments when you would see Lily, her bright smile and cheerful energy a welcome addition to your lives. Often, you would stop by her lemonade stand, sometimes just to chat, and other times to enjoy the simple pleasure of a cold drink on a warm day.

One Saturday afternoon, you decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm light over the tree-lined paths. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the laughter of children echoed from a nearby playground. As you walked hand in hand, Natasha noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Lily was skipping along the path, holding hands with a woman who must have been her mother. The woman was tall and slender, with the same brown curls as Lily, though hers were tied up in a loose bun. She had a kind face, but Natasha couldn’t miss the weariness in her eyes.

You waved to them, and Lily’s face lit up when she recognized you. “Natasha! Y/N!” she called, pulling her mother along behind her. Natasha and you smiled as you approached, exchanging a warm greeting with the little girl. Lily’s mother smiled politely, but there was a slight tension in her posture, as if she were carrying a burden no one else could see. “Hello.” you said kindly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha.”

The woman nodded, a small, somewhat forced smile on her lips. “I’m Rachel. Lily talks about you two all the time. She’s always excited to see you.” Lily beamed up at her mother. “They’re my best customers!”

Natasha laughed, kneeling down to Lily’s level. “And you’re our favorite lemonade seller.” Lily giggled, clearly pleased with the attention. As Natasha stood back up, she noticed Rachel’s gaze flick nervously over her shoulder. She followed Rachel’s eyes and saw a man standing a few steps away, his hands deep in his pockets, watching them. He was tall and broad shouldered, his expression unreadable, but something about the way he looked at Rachel made Natasha uneasy.

Rachel’s smile faltered a little, and she quickly looked back at you and Natasha. “That’s Mark, my.. boyfriend." she said, her voice a little strained. Mark nodded in greeting, but his eyes never left Rachel. Natasha felt a wave of discomfort rising in her. She had spent years honing her instincts, learning to pick up on the smallest signs of danger, and right now, every instinct was telling her that something was off.

You, always attuned to Natasha’s moods, noticed the subtle shift in her posture. You glanced at her questioningly, but she gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. Not here, not now. “Are you headed to the playground?” you asked in a light, casual tone, trying to diffuse the tension. Rachel nodded, her grip on Lily’s hand tightening. “Yes, Lily loves the playground. We try to come on weekends.”

“That’s great..” you replied, smiling at Lily. “Maybe we’ll see you around more often.” Lily looked up at her mother eagerly. “Can we play with them, Mama? Please?” she asked, her eyes hopeful as she gazed at her Mama. But she hesitated, casting a nervous glance at Mark, who only gave a slight nod of his head. “Maybe another time, sweetheart. We need to head home soon.”

Lily pouted a little but didn’t argue, sensing her mother’s unease. “Okay…” she said softly. Natasha’s heart ached at the sight of the disappointed little girl. She wanted to ask Rachel if everything was okay, if there was anything they could do to help, but she knew better than to push. Instead, she gave Lily a reassuring smile. “We’ll see you soon, okay?” Lily nodded, her smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay! Bye, Natasha! Bye, Y/N!”

“Goodbye!” you called as you parted ways and continued down the path. As you walked further along the trail, Natasha’s thoughts kept circling back to what she had just witnessed. Something wasn’t right about the whole encounter, especially in the way Rachel and Mark interacted. It wasn’t just protectiveness or possessiveness in Mark’s eyes..there was something darker, something that set off alarm bells in Natasha’s mind.

You gently squeezed Natasha’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. “What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with concern. Natasha cast one last glance back in the direction where Rachel, Lily, and Mark had disappeared. “I’m not sure..” she said softly. “But I’m going to find out.”

You nodded, trusting Natasha’s instincts implicitly. “Do you think she’s in trouble?” Natasha didn’t answer right away. She was trying to piece together the puzzle in her head, figuring out what exactly had triggered her discomfort. “Maybe..” she finally said. “Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

You frowned, your worry growing. “If you think something’s wrong, we should do something. We can’t just ignore it.” Natasha nodded, her jaw setting in determination. “We won’t. But we have to be careful. If there’s really something going on, we don’t want to make it worse.” As you continued your walk, the warmth of the sun on your back, Natasha’s thoughts kept returning to Rachel and Lily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the peace they had found in this quiet neighborhood was more fragile than it seemed. And if something threatened that peace, Natasha was ready to do whatever it took to protect the people she cared about.

The night was quiet and still, with the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the neighborhood. Natasha and you slept peacefully in your bed, your bodies nestled close together, the gentle sound of your breathing the only noise in the room. The calm of the night seemed to envelop you, offering a rare moment of complete tranquility.

But that peace was abruptly shattered by frantic knocking at the front door. Natasha was the first to stir, her finely tuned instincts kicking in immediately. In an instant, she was out of bed, pulling on a shirt as she moved, her senses on high alert. You were awake a second later, your heart racing at the sound.

“Natasha?” you called softly as you quickly threw something on as well. “Stay here,” Natasha instructed, but you followed her downstairs anyway.

The knocking at the door grew more desperate, and Natasha felt a cold fear settling in her stomach. She motioned for you to stay back as she approached the door, but the moment she heard the sobbing of a child, all caution was forgotten. She flung the door open to find Lily standing there, her face streaked with tears, her small body trembling in the cool night air.

“Lily!” you exclaimed in shock, immediately kneeling down to be at eye level with the girl. “Sweetheart, what happened? Why are you out here?” Lily looked up at you, her lip quivering, but she said nothing. She shook her head and took a small step back, as if afraid to enter the house.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the terrified little girl. She knelt beside you, her voice gentle and calm. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.” But Lily’s eyes were still wide with fear, and she clung to her stuffed animal. She was trembling so much that she could barely stand.

You gently placed a hand on Lily’s arm. “You don’t have to be scared, Lily. You can tell us what happened. We just want to help.” For a moment, Lily seemed torn between her fear and her trust in the two of you. She glanced back at the dark street, her breath catching as if she were reliving whatever had driven her to your doorstep. Then, slowly, she took a hesitant step forward and allowed you to pull her into a warm embrace.

Lily buried her face in your shoulder, her small body shaking with silent sobs. “H-He was..he was so angry..?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Natasha exchanged a worried look with you, her protective instincts flaring. “Who was angry, Lily?” she asked gently, though she already had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Lily clung to you, her small hands gripping your shirt as if she were afraid to let go. She was crying so hard that she could barely breathe, her sobs coming in ragged gasps.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay..” you murmured, your voice soft and soothing as you held Lily close. You look at Natasha and don't know exactly what to do now. Natasha quickly stepped outside, her eyes scanning the dark street, searching for any signs of danger, but the neighborhood was eerily still. She turned back to you and Lily, her heart breaking at the sight of the frightened little girl.

“Lily, sweetheart, who was angry? Can you tell us?” Lily’s sobs began to subside, though she was still trembling. She buried her face in your shoulder again, her voice muffled and broken. “H-He hit Mommy! He kept hitting her. She told him to stop, but he wouldn’t stop…” Your grip around Lily tightened protectively, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Do you mean your mom’s friend? You did the right thing coming here, Lily.”

Lily sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes..her friend, and I remembered you said I could always come to you..” Natasha felt a surge of anger and protectiveness like she had never felt before. The thought of someone hurting this sweet little girl or her mother was unbearable. But she knew she needed to stay calm for Lily’s sake. She closed the door behind her and knelt down again.

“You were so brave, Lily." Natasha said softly, her voice steady. “You did the right thing. You’re safe now, I promise.” The little girl trembled and buried her face in your shoulder again. “I want my mommy..II want her to be okay..” You rocked her gently, your heart breaking at the thought of a child so young having to endure such fear. “We’re going to make sure your mommy is okay. We’re going to help her, and we’re going to help you.”

Natasha and you exchanged a determined look. You both knew that action needed to be taken. Natasha placed a hand on Lily’s back, trying to soothe her. “Lily, I’m going to go check on your mommy, okay? Y/n will stay here with you.”

Lily looked up at you with big, frightened eyes and clung even tighter to you. “No! Please don’t go! He’s still there! He’ll hurt you too!” Before Natasha could respond, Lily’s eyes widened with new fear. She clutched at you and began to scream in high-pitched tones. Natasha froze as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch too. The sharp smell of alcohol was the first thing she noticed, and she knew immediately who it was.

Mark.

Your face paled as you glanced toward the door, and Natasha quickly analyzed the situation. "Y/n, take her upstairs. I’ll handle this." You lifted Lily into your arms, her small face buried in your neck. "Please be careful, Natasha.."

Natasha nodded, not taking her eyes off the door. “Go.” The little girl clung to you tightly as you hurried up the stairs. Natasha positioned herself between the door and the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared for what was about to happen. The door was thrown open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Mark stumbled into the house, his face red with anger, his eyes bloodshot and wild. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, and Natasha’s stomach churned at the sight of him.

“Where is she?!” Mark slurred, his voice dripping with rage. “Where’s that little brat? She’s the one to blame for all of this!!” His eyes narrowed as he charged toward Natasha, his fists swinging wildly. But Natasha was faster. She dodged his attack effortlessly, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back in one fluid motion. Mark cried out in pain, but Natasha didn’t loosen her grip.

“Let me go, you bitch!” Mark bellowed, struggling to free his arm from her grasp, but Natasha held him with iron strength. “You’re not going to get near that girl again." Natasha hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “You’ve done enough damage.” Mark fought against her hold, but it was futile. Natasha easily forced him to the ground and held him there. She could feel his muscles tense under her grip, but she didn’t relent.

Upstairs, you quickly brought Lily into the guest room and gently set her on the bed. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here, understand? I’ll make sure of it.” Lily was still trembling, her eyes wide with fear. “Will he hurt Natasha?”

“No," you said firmly, though the fear for Natasha grew within you. "Natasha is very strong, and she’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone anymore. But I need to make a call, okay? We need to call the police so they can help us.” Lily nodded hesitantly, curling up with her stuffed animal. You quickly pulled out your phone and dialed 911, your voice trembling slightly as you explained the situation to the dispatcher.

Downstairs, Natasha was still holding Mark down on the floor, her mind racing. She knew she needed to get Rachel and Lily out of this situation permanently, but for now, Mark was the immediate threat. The sound of sirens in the distance brought a sense of relief. Help was on the way. Mark groaned beneath her, still struggling weakly. “You..you can’t do this!! Who do you think you are?!”

Natasha leaned closer to him, her voice a deadly whisper. “Oh, watch me.” Minutes later, two police officers burst into the house. Natasha stood up and released Mark, the officers immediately moving to restrain him. He was still shouting, hurling curses and threats, but Natasha felt nothing but disgust as they hauled him to his feet. “Are you alright?” one of the officers asked as they led Mark out of the house.

“I’m fine." Natasha replied coolly. “But you should check on the mother across the street. I think she’s in bad shape.” The officer nodded seriously. “We’ll take care of it. Thank you for stepping in.” Natasha watched as they led Mark out of the house and closed the door behind them. The house was suddenly quiet again, but the tension in the air remained palpable. Natasha took a deep breath to calm her nerves before heading upstairs.

When she reached the guest room, she found you sitting on the bed next to Lily. The little girl had finally calmed down and was no longer crying. The sight of the vulnerable and frightened child made Natasha’s heart ache, but she forced herself to smile gently as she approached. “It’s over." Natasha said softly. “He’s gone.”

Lily looked up at her, her eyes still wet with tears. “Is my mommy okay?” Natasha knelt beside the bed, her voice gentle and reassuring. "The police are going to check on your mommy and make sure she's okay. And we're going to help you and your mommy, Lily. We won't let anyone hurt you again."

Lily nodded slowly, a small spark of hope appearing in her eyes. "Promise?" Natasha reached out and softly wiped away a tear from Lily's cheek. "I promise."

You wrapped your arm around Lily and pulled her close. "You're safe now, sweetheart. We'll take care of everything." As Lily finally began to relax in your arms, Natasha felt a deep determination rising within her. This wasn't the end of the situation, but it was the first step. She was going to do everything in her power to protect Lily and Rachel, no matter what it took.

The paramedics had just treated Rachel’s injuries, and the police were finishing their reports. The once peaceful night was now filled with quiet, official conversations, and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow through the windows. Lily sat on the sofa between Natasha and you, her small body still trembling, and her large eyes reflected a mixture of fear and confusion.

Rachel sat nearby, her face marked with bruises, and her expression was exhausted. The weight of the night’s events had drained her, but her entire focus was on Lily, who was like a beacon of strength for her. One of the police officers approached Rachel, his tone professional but gentle. “Mrs. Dawson, under the circumstances, protocol requires that we place your daughter in temporary foster care until you are able to care for her again.”

Rachel’s already pale face turned even whiter, and she immediately shook her head, panic flashing in her eyes. “No! No, please, she can’t go into foster care.. She’s been through enough. Please, don’t take her away from me!”

Lily looked up in alarm at the officer’s words, her wide, frightened eyes turning to her mother. “Mama..I don’t want to go..” Instinctively, you put your arm around Lily and pulled her closer to you. Natasha’s expression darkened as she sensed the rising fear in Rachel and Lily. The thought of Lily being taken away, even temporarily, was unthinkable to you both. Not after everything the little girl had already endured.

Rachel looked at Natasha and you with desperation, her voice trembling with emotion. “Please..she can stay with you, right? You live right across the street. She knows you, she feels safe with you..please, don’t let them take her away.” The officer hesitated, visibly torn. “Ma’am, I understand your concern, but the safety of the child is our top priority. We need to ensure that she’s in a stable environment while you recover.”

Natasha stood up, her stance determined as she stepped forward. “She is in a stable environment. Right here, with us.” Her voice was calm but firm, with the tone of someone who wasn’t used to being questioned. You nodded, equally resolute. “We live right across the street. We’re neighbors and friends, and Lily trusts us. We can take care of her while Rachel is in the hospital. You can check in on her anytime.”

The officer looked between Natasha and you, clearly aware of who you both were. He sighed, knowing this wasn’t an easy decision. “Are you sure you can take on this responsibility? It could be several days, maybe longer.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “We’re sure. We’ll make sure she’s safe, and she’ll be close to her mother. That’s what’s best for her.” Rachel’s eyes filled with tears of relief as she reached for Lily’s hand. “Please, Officer.. don’t take her away from me. I can’t bear it. She’s been through enough already.” The officer exchanged a look with his colleague, then back at Natasha and you. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll allow it, but we’ll need to conduct regular checks to ensure everything is going smoothly.”

Natasha nodded. “Of course. We’ll cooperate fully.” The officer turned to Rachel. “We’ll take you to the hospital now, Mrs. Dawson. You need to focus on your recovery.” Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her face as she turned to Lily. “Sweetheart, you’ll stay with Natasha and Y/n for a little while, okay? They’ll take good care of you.”

Lily, still clutching her stuffed animal, looked up at her mother, her voice trembling. “But..I-I want to stay with you, Mama..”

Rachel’s heart broke at her daughter’s words, but she forced herself to smile despite the pain. “I know, darling. And I want to stay with you too. But I need to get better first, so I can be with you again. Natasha and Y/n will take care of you, and I’ll be very close by, okay?” Lily nodded slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Okay..but promise me you’ll come back soon?”

Rachel’s voice cracked as she leaned down and kissed Lily’s forehead. “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” You gently took Lily’s hand in yours, your voice soft and reassuring. “Let’s go home, Lily. We’ll make you some hot chocolate and get you to bed, okay?” Lily nodded again, her small hand gripping yours tightly. She gave her mother one last look, and Rachel smiled encouragingly through her tears and nodded to her.

As the paramedics helped Rachel to her feet and escorted her out of the house, you and Natasha led Lily back across the street to your home. The little girl was quiet, her mind clearly processing everything that had happened. You carried her into the living room and set her on the sofa while Natasha locked the door and made sure the house was secure.

Inside, you knelt in front of Lily and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re so brave, Lily. Your Mama is going to get better, and we’ll take care of you until then. You’re safe here with us.” Natasha sat down beside Lily on the sofa. “We’ll make sure you stay close to your Mommy, and we’ll visit her as soon as she’s feeling better. But for now, we’re here for you.”

Lily looked up at both of you, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and trust. “Okay..but can we visit her tomorrow?” You smiled, your heart filled with love for the little girl. “We’ll try, sweetheart. Let’s get through the night first, and then we’ll see what we can do tomorrow.” Natasha gently stroked Lily’s hair, feeling a strong protective instinct for the child who had already been through so much. “We’re here for you, Lily. You’re not alone.”

In the quiet of the night, as Lily finally fell asleep in the next room, you and Natasha shared a silent moment of reflection. You had stepped into this role out of necessity, but now it felt like more. You were no longer just neighbors or friends; you were a family, brought together by circumstances and bound by love. And as long as you had each other, you knew you could face any challenges that lay ahead.

The visit to the hospital the next day went as well as could be hoped for in such a situation. Lily clung to her mother, her small body finally relaxing in the comforting arms of Rachel, and Rachel, though bruised and exhausted, smiled brighter than Natasha and you had ever seen. There was still a long road ahead of them, but the worst seemed to be over.

Three days later, Rachel was discharged. As the evening wore on, you and Natasha returned home, your house now quieter without Lily’s youthful energy. The night had gently fallen over the neighborhood, and a sense of calm finally settled in after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. After getting ready for bed, you found yourselves lying close together, the soft light of the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the room. Your hands were intertwined, both of you lost in thought.

You broke the silence first, your voice gentle. “You were amazing with Lily, Nat. You really helped her through something so terrible.” Natasha turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “I just wanted to make sure she was safe. She’s a strong little girl, but no one should have to go through what she did.”

You nodded, your gaze softening as you brushed a strand of hair from Natasha’s face. “You have such a strong protective instinct. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” Natasha’s smile faded a little, and she looked away, her eyes clouded with memories she rarely let surface. You, always sensitive to her moods, hesitated before speaking again.

“Nat..h-have you ever thought about..starting a family of our own?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with both hope and caution. Natasha held her breath for a moment, feeling her heart tighten. She had always known this conversation would come eventually, but now that you had voiced it, it felt even more real. She took a deep breath before answering, her voice calm but tinged with deep pain.

“You know that I…The Red Room made sure that..” Your heart aching at the thought of all the horrors Natasha had endured, and the irreversible damage done to her body. It was a subject Natasha rarely spoke about, and you had always respected that, never pushing, because you knew how deeply the pain ran. “I know, Nat.." you said softly, holding her hand a little tighter. “But..family doesn’t have to be just biological. Look at what we’ve done for Lily in just a few days. You were there for her like a mother would be. And I think..I think you’d make an incredible mom. And..if it’s okay to say this..But what if I get pregnant?”

Natasha looked into your eyes, her green eyes reflecting the inner battle she was fighting. “But what if..what if I can’t do it? What if I can’t be what a child needs? I’ve spent my whole life fighting, Y/n. I’m not sure I even know how to be..normal.”

You smiled, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Natasha. That’s exactly why I love you. And being parents doesn’t mean we have to be perfect. It means loving, protecting, and doing our best.” Natasha’s heart ached with a mix of longing and fear. The thought of having a family, of creating something good and whole out of the broken pieces of her past, was both terrifying and tempting. But as she looked into your eyes, she felt a warmth, a hope she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

“Do you really think we could do it?” Natasha asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. You nodded, your eyes shining with love and certainty. “Yes, I do. And we’d do it together, just like we do everything else. We don’t have to decide right now, but..I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about it. And I would want to do it with you.”

Natasha was silent for a long moment, letting the idea settle in her heart. It was a difficult topic, one that opened old wounds, but your unwavering support gave her the courage to at least consider it. Finally, Natasha nodded slightly, her grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Maybe..maybe one day. I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but..I’d like to think about it. With you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with even more love for the woman beside you. “That’s all I could ever want, Nat..Everything in its own time.” The two of you lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, the weight of the conversation gradually giving way to a deep, comforting sense of connection. Outside, the night was quiet and peaceful, and inside, in the warmth of your love, the future seemed a little less daunting. As Natasha closed her eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat under her hand, she allowed herself to dream of a future where the two of you could build a family together. It was a new and unfamiliar dream, but with you by her side, it no longer seemed impossible. And with you beside her, she knew you could face whatever the future had in store for you both.

-

-

-

🤧🤧🤧🤧

[minxmut-cafe]

A Birthday to Remember

Pairing : Taehyung x reader.

Word count : 1.8k words

Summary : For Taehyung's Birthday you get him a watch and let him contort you in different positions on the bed ;)

Trigger warning : dirty talk, cunnilingus, sex, breeding kink, begging, vaginal penetration, impregnation kink.

Authors note : I'm sorry this is coming out when his birthday is almost over but I've been struggling to juggle writing while studying for my finals. ANYWAYS I hope you like it. Also I'm sorry if this isn't as good because it's hard to imagine tae sexually. Anyways enough rambling. ENJOY!!!

Taehyung was suspicious.

The living room was unusually clean, his friends had been acting a bit too normal, and you had spent the whole day texting instead of showering him with attention. Something was up.

Still, he played along, letting the strange energy slide. After all, it was his birthday, and he figured he’d be rewarded for his patience.

When he stepped into his apartment later that evening, he was immediately greeted by loud cheers. The entire BTS crew had gathered, decorations hung from every corner, and a massive cake sat proudly on the dining table. You stood in the middle of the chaos, wearing your mischievous grin—the one that made his heart race.

“Surprise!” you all yelled in unison.

Taehyung’s lips curled into a wide smile, his suspicion fading. “You guys… this is amazing. Thank you.”

Jungkook slung an arm around him. “Come on, birthday boy. You really thought we’d let your special day go unnoticed?”

The night was full of laughter, food, and playful chaos, as expected with this group. Taehyung basked in the attention, but his eyes kept finding you across the room. There was something about the way you were looking at him—like you had a secret—and it made his pulse quicken.

As the night wound down and the boys began clearing up, you approached him, holding a neatly wrapped box.

“Your gift,” you said, handing it over.

He raised an eyebrow, already intrigued. “Is this what you’ve been hiding all day?”

You shrugged, your lips curling into a smirk. “Sort of. Open it.”

He tore into the paper, revealing a sleek designer watch. “Wow, this is beautiful,” he said, sliding it onto his wrist. But as he admired it, something slipped out of the box—a Polaroid.

His eyes widened as he picked it up. The image was unmistakably you, lounging on his bed, wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts—strategically unbuttoned. Scrawled on the back were the words: "Watch carefully. That watch isn’t the only gift for you."

His throat went dry, and his gaze darted to you. You simply winked, whispering, “Get home early tonight.”

Before he could process the message, Jin clapped him on the back. “Alright, birthday boy, time for round two!”

“Round two?” Taehyung asked, confused.

The boys laughed as Jungkook and Jimin each grabbed one of his arms, dragging him toward the door. “Club time, baby!”

Taehyung groaned. “But I—”

“No buts!” Namjoon cut in. “We planned this weeks ago. You’re going to have the best birthday ever.”

He glanced back at you, desperation in his eyes, but you just waved him off with a sly smile.

The club was exactly what Taehyung expected: loud music, flashing lights, and way too many people. His heart wasn’t in it, though. All he could think about was the Polaroid and the promise it held.

The boys were in full party mode, and even he couldn’t help but enjoy a few rounds of drinks and some dancing. Still, every time his phone buzzed, he hoped it was a message from you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he managed to slip away. “I’m heading out,” he told Yoongi, who nodded lazily, nursing his drink.

Taehyung practically sprinted up the stairs to his apartment, his heart racing. He fumbled with his keys before finally getting the door open.

The lights were dimmed, and soft music played in the background. On the coffee table was a small tray with two glasses of wine.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice husky.

“In here,” you replied from the bedroom.

He followed your voice, and when he stepped inside, his breath caught. You were perched on the edge of the bed, wearing the same shirt from the Polaroid—only this time, there was no camera between you two.

“Happy Birthday,” you said softly, your eyes glinting with mischief.

He didn’t waste a second, crossing the room in a few strides and pulling you into his arms. “You’re evil, you know that?” he murmured against your neck.

You laughed, running your fingers through his hair. “And yet you love me for it.”

“Desperately,” he admitted, his voice thick with want. “Now, about that other gift…”

You leaned back, giving him a sultry look. “Why don’t you unwrap it and find out?”

He grinned, his fingers already working on the buttons of the shirt. As the fabric fell away, he let out a low whistle. “You really went all out for me.”

“Only the best for the birthday boy,” you teased, pulling him down onto the bed.

His lips found yours, the kiss starting slow but quickly escalating. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as if it were the first time.

“You’re unbelievable,” he whispered against your skin.

“And you’re overdressed,” you shot back, tugging at his shirt. And pulling him down on the bed straddling him, “someone's excited” tae said as he pressed his lips against you . The kiss started out sweet slowly quickening with their breaths

Taehyung didn't let you pull away from the kiss. He relished leaving you breathless from his kiss. He bit your bottom lip tugging at it as his tongue swiftly entered your mouth as you gasped, exploring each and every inch like it was his first time tasting something so sweet.

“Fuck you taste so good babe” he heaved as he pinned you against the bed leaving open mouthed kisses all over your jaw and neck, “gonna mark you all over baby” he said as he sucked small bites on your neck focusing on your sweet spot making you whimper.

You bite the side of his neck and pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his waist. You hastily pull off his jacket and shirt, snagging the shirt in the process making him giggle. “So fucking hungry for my cock baby” he cooed as she blushed “can't help it my babies so fuckin’ delicious”

Tae practically ripped the shirt off you as he flipped you over and lifted your ass up spread in your legs slightly. He dips one of his ridiculously long fingers inside your hole making a small whimper fall from your lips.

“Fuck baby…you're so wet I could probably fuck you stupid without any forplay” he giggled lowly as he added another finger and started thrusting them in and out making you moan. “Tae…a-also tonight…I'll let you do anything…anything” you moaned and his eyebrows quirked up at that as he sneaked his hands in your hair and pulled you up, grabbing a handful of your hair.

“Anything baby?” He asked, his voice low and he whispered it in your ear. “Yes.. anything” you replied in a pathetic shaky voice making him smirk and fasten his pace and add a third finger, “ahn…too mu-much tae” you whimpered, “yes but you were the one who could say I could do anything right kitty” he whispered as he peppered sweet kisses all over your shoulders and nap. “Who knows maybe tonight I'll fuck a baby or two into your soppy cunt” you moaned at that. Tae and you both had a really bad breeding kink.

“O-oh god yes..ahn been w-wanting one for a wh-while now hah—” you moaned, blissed out at the thought of being swollen with his kids and him driving his fingers in you. “oh I'm sure you have…my dirty dirty girl” he mused

“Yes yes I have—ahn! So-so what don't you nngh drop your pants and put your nice and long cock inside me? Hm I'll be so good tonight..I promise please” you beg, making him giggle “oh my darling little kitty is just so used to beggin’ huh” he giggled—

“Want my cock so badly baby? Want me to fill you up with my cum and make sure you're knocked up by tomorrow?”

“Yes God please YES!”

He chuckled and let your hair go, pulling his fingers out right as you were about to cum “that's right baby, I'm your god. Moan for me” he grinned, landing a harsh slap on your already swollen clit pulling out a pathetic whimper out of you.

He unbuckled his belt and peeled his pants off and his socks off knowing how much she hated socks during sex and got on top of her pulling her legs up and resting them on his shoulders as he slowly rubbed your clit with his thick taupe tip.

“Mhmm no teasing taetae…been so needy the whole day” she begged and he let out a small gasp at the way your clit throbbed everytime he rubbed the tip of his cock against it.

“Is that so baby?” He asked as he slowly started pushing his cock in. He went in inch by inch slowly making sure you feel the burn of him sliding his entire cock into you.

“Does that feel better baby?” He groaned, his voice thick with pleasure and you just nod, mind too filled with words to say anything. He slowly started moving, maintaining a steady pace. Teasing you , making you whine for him to go faster and he gladly obliged. He went faster and faster, pounding against your G spot, just the way you liked it.

“Fu-fuck is that good baby? Does that feel good? Feeling me fuck my cock into your tight— argh so-so fucking tight hngh cunt like this?” He moaned as he pounded into her.

“YES! Yes I love it so so so much! fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck please aHN gonna cum tae!” You screamed, clutching his back, scratching it up as he knelt down to kiss you. Sucking on your bottom lip.

“Yes shush shh baby dw..I'll cum nice and deep inside you” he kissed her and moved down to sick your tits, making you moan as slammed inside you.

He groaned your name as he thrusted deep inside you, painting your walls white as you clench around him cumming hard. Panting as he thrusted slowly as he softened, helping you ride your orgasms out.

He slumped on top of you slightly as he pulled out and laid down beside you, catching his breath while cradling you.

Few minutes pass by as you both calm down. You squeak as he pulls you on top of him again, “eh-eh what are you doing?” You stutter, “you seriously didn't think i was done with you right?” He smirked, pulling you down into an open mouthed kiss.

The night went on like this as he fucked you into the mattress in different positions all night.

The sun streamed through the curtains as Taehyung stirred awake, a satisfied smile on his face. You were curled up beside him, your hair a mess and his watch dangling loosely on your wrist.

“Best birthday ever,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You opened one eye, smirking. “Told you that watch wasn’t the only gift.”

He laughed, pulling you closer. “I don’t need anything else as long as I have you.”

[hellobykittys]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.𝐈𝐈 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 1.9k WARNING: teasing, fake relationship

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | SMAU VER | NEXT PART

The next morning, Charles was already regretting it. Or maybe just annoyed. Or both. He hadn’t decided yet. The truth was, the plan had started before he was even awake.

“Did you like her photo?” Lorenzo asked, barging into the room without knocking.

“Good morning to you too,” Charles replied, throwing a pillow at his brother.

“Charles, I’m serious. Did you?”

“Which photo? She posts like fifty a day.”

Lorenzo sighed and handed his phone to his brother. On the screen, Y/N’s latest post glowed—a seemingly casual photo but so flawlessly composed it was impossible not to notice the meticulous planning behind it.

“Liked it yet?” Lorenzo pressed, pointing at the heart button.

Charles mumbled something unintelligible but tapped the button anyway.

“There. Done. Now let me sleep.”

But it wasn’t done. The second his like went live, the internet worked its obsessive magic. Gossip accounts picked up on the move almost immediately. “Charles Leclerc likes Y/N’s photo. Coincidence or something more?”

Meanwhile, across the city, Y/N was sitting in a chic café, laughing quietly as her phone blew up with notifications.

“They’re fast, huh?” she commented to her best friend, Clara, who was rolling her eyes as she stirred her cappuccino.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” Clara asked, sounding a little skeptical.

“It’s not about enjoying it. It’s a job.” Y/N shrugged, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Charles was never a fan of hosting dinners at home. He was more of a fine-dining restaurant kind of guy—or, when no one was looking, fast food in his car. But tonight, his apartment had turned into Sofia’s mission control.

He opened the door still in sweatpants, his hair a mess, and looking just a little tired.

“You look like a teenager,” was the first thing Y/N said as she walked in, holding a bag of desserts.

“And you always look ready for a runway,” he shot back, taking in her flawless outfit: skinny jeans, a white cropped tee, and sneakers—casual but calculated.

“Thanks. I practice.”

She waltzed in, ditching her shoes near the door and taking in the space. His apartment was minimalist but not soulless. Trophies were scattered across a shelf, abstract art he clearly didn’t choose hung on the walls, and a big couch dominated the living room, probably the epicenter of his social life.

“Do you actually live here? I expected it to be… messier,” she remarked, flopping onto the couch.

“If it were messier, you’d complain. If it were tidier, you’d say it’s fake. So, please, tell me the exact level of chaos that would make you happy.”

“You’re starting to figure me out,” she said with a laugh.

The dinner, as it turned out, was delivery that took so long to arrive they were already brainstorming the next steps of the plan before eating. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop open and notes scattered across the coffee table.

“Okay, we need something for the first public appearance. Nothing too obvious, but not so subtle that people miss the point.”

Charles, slouched on the couch, watched as she spoke, distracted by the businesslike tone she used.

“Do you talk this seriously all the time, or is it just when you’re in work mode?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand.

“This is serious, Leclerc,” she replied without looking up. “If you want to salvage your reputation, you’re going to have to trust me.”

He sighed, knowing she was right.

“Our first appearance could be next week, just before the Monaco race weekend. We could stroll around the streets in your car or stop at a café,” she suggested. “It’ll look casual, but everyone will notice.”

“What if we just let the rumors do their thing?” he tried.

“Because that would be too easy for you.” Y/N finally looked up. “You need to give people a reason to believe this story. And I’m very convincing.”

At that moment, the delivery arrived. Charles went to grab it while Y/N rearranged the table to make it look casually perfect.

“Let’s start small,” she said, stretching her arm out to snap a photo. He watched as she worked, following her directions like a puppet.

“This will drive people crazy,” she commented, showing him the image before posting it.

The picture showed Charles’s hand holding a wine glass and part of his torso. On the table between them sat two pizzas.

Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re good at this, I’ll admit.”

“Not just good—excellent,” she corrected.

As they ate, the tension between them grew more noticeable. While they discussed details like when she’d start appearing in the paddock, the teasing didn’t stop.

“Do you think people will actually believe I fell for you?” he asked, smirking.

“If I can pretend to find you interesting, people can believe anything,” she shot back, taking a bite of pizza.

He laughed. “Interesting? I thought you were having fun.”

“I’m a great actress,” she said, giving him a playful wink.

“Now we need more pictures,” Y/N said after a while, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Something a bit more… intimate.”

“More?” Charles sighed, clearly exhausted. “Wasn’t that last one enough?”

“Of course not! People need to believe we’re in love. Think of something subtle: holding hands, your hand on my thigh… something like that.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile immediately forming on his lips. “For someone who made the ‘no touching’ rule, you seem pretty eager for this. Trying to relive that night at the club?”

The comment was bold, but Y/N didn’t even blink. She simply stared at him for a moment, her calm almost irritating, before replying, “What night, Leclerc? You must be confusing me with one of your dreams.”

He chuckled, but there was something about the way she brushed off the topic that left him unsettled. After all, she had walked out that night without a word, pretending like nothing had happened. And it still nagged at him.

Unbothered, Y/N stood up and moved to the couch behind them, sitting like someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

“Come here. You need to sit next to me,” she ordered, patting the spot beside her on the couch.

Charles raised an eyebrow but stood up, following her instructions without protest. “What do I need to do now, boss?”

Y/N firmly took his hand and placed it on her thigh. With her other hand, she adjusted her phone’s camera.

“You just need to sit still,” she said, winking at him before snapping the picture. “Look, it turned out so cute!”

She showed him the result, a satisfied smile lighting up her face.

He glanced at the photo, then back at her. “You seem pretty excited about this. I’m starting to think I’m not the only one dreaming here.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, ignoring his comment as she went back to adjusting the photo’s filter. But Charles couldn’t help but notice: as much as she tried to stay in control, there was something in her eyes that hinted she might be enjoying this more than she let on.

Later, as they cleared the empty plates and went over the plan’s timeline, their eyes met. For a moment, silence filled the room. It wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy with something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

“Well, this was… productive,” Y/N said, breaking the tension as she stood up to grab her bag.

“‘Productive’ is one way to put it,” he replied, following her to the door.

Once she left, Charles collapsed onto the couch and grabbed his phone. The picture she had just posted was already blowing up with comments. He liked it quietly before tossing the phone onto the table.

At the media day press conference, Charles had already memorized the answers Sofia had prepared for him. When someone asked about his personal life, he replied with a cryptic smile:

“I’ve been spending more time at home, enjoying it with people I like.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was doing her part. During an Instagram live, someone asked,

“Do you like Formula 1?”

She smiled, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I didn’t think I did, but lately… I’ve been watching it more.”

tαglıst: @charlesgirl16 @sltwins

[solxamber]

At first, I like and support the most of your work. It's well written and in a style I like. But of course, I have a little request. Diasomnia, 4, Fluff (Comedy)

You can pick on your own, if it has to be Fluff or Comedy. I am fine with the both of them.

thank you so much!

You: 1, Gargoyles: 0 || Malleus Draconia

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "I'm NOT jealous" ; Genre: Comedy

You loved Malleus. Truly. But there was only so much gargoyle trivia a person could endure before losing their mind.

Currently, he was waxing poetic about the symmetry of a gargoyle he'd seen in the Valley of Thorns, his eyes sparkling like he was confessing his first love.

“…and the way its wings curve? Utterly sublime. A craftsmanship that transcends time. Wouldn’t you agree?”

So then, in a fit of mischief, you said it. The words that would send your entire week spiraling into chaos:

“Sometimes I think you love gargoyles more than me.”

Silence.

The air grew thick. The moon dimmed. Somewhere, Sebek probably sneezed dramatically in the distance.

Malleus turned to you slowly, his expression one of deep betrayal. “What did you just say?”

“It’s a joke, Malleus,” you said, already regretting everything.

But he ignored you, his brows furrowing in the way that meant your next week was about to get very strange. “You think I love gargoyles more than you?”

“I don’t! That’s why it’s a joke!” you said quickly, waving your hands for emphasis.

But he wasn’t listening. Oh no, the great Prince of the Briar Valley had entered “dramatic spiral” mode.

“This cannot stand,” he said, already pacing like he was strategizing for war. “You must understand the depth of my affection. Gargoyles are… significant, yes. But you… you are far more important.”

“That’s nice, Malleus, but—”

“No! You must be convinced.”

The next morning, you woke up to chaos. Your dorm was… infested.

Stone gargoyles. Everywhere.

On your desk. Perched on your windowsill. One was even sitting in your chair, looking smug.

“MALLEUS!” you screeched, running out into the hallway only to find him waiting there, arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Do you see?” he said, gesturing proudly at the invasion. “I have brought my gargoyle collection to you. I share my deepest loves only with those who matter most. Surely now you understand your place in my heart.”

You pointed wildly at the stone monstrosities. “HOW DOES THIS PROVE ANYTHING?!”

Malleus blinked, tilting his head. “You said I love gargoyles more than you, so I have shared them with you. This is logical."

“This is UNHINGED.”

“And yet,” he countered smoothly, “you are still more radiant than they.”

You were so stunned by his sincerity that you almost forgot you were still yelling. Almost.

It got worse.

Malleus started comparing you to gargoyles.

“Your posture rivals that of the Archguard Protector in Thornmere Castle,” he mused as you sat at lunch.

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“And your smile,” he continued dreamily, “could put the Stone Warden’s eternal vigil to shame.”

You buried your face in your hands, debating your life choices.

The next day, you walked into Ramshackle dorm only to find your living room covered in… gargoyle carvings?

“Malleus, what—”

“These,” he announced grandly, stepping forward with a flourish, “are gifts. I carved them myself to show you how much I cherish you. Each one represents a moment that I value in our time together.”

You stared at the gargoyle army invading your living space, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or faint. “You realize this still doesn’t actually prove anything, right?”

He frowned. “But you said—”

“I was joking!”

Malleus tilted his head, confused. “So… you are not jealous of the gargoyles?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “No, I’m not jealous of the gargoyles! I was making a joke!”

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. “You seemed very sincere.”

“I wasn’t!”

“But you—”

“I wasn’t!”

Malleus sighed, looking truly distressed. “Then how am I to express my feelings for you if not through grand gestures? Do you not like the gargoyles I made?”

Your heart softened at his genuine concern, but you couldn’t let this go on. “Malleus, I don’t need you to prove anything. I know you like me. You could have just said so.”

“But actions speak louder than words,” he replied solemnly.

You burst out laughing, and Malleus looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“You are losing your mind,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I’m the one losing my mind?” you said through giggles.

Malleus nodded. “Clearly. Perhaps you have spent too much time with Lilia.”

That only made you laugh harder, and eventually, Malleus joined in, though he still looked confused about what, exactly, was so funny.

In the end, you kept one of the gargoyle carvings—the smallest one—as a memento. The rest? They mysteriously vanished overnight. You didn’t ask questions.

But the next time Malleus started talking about gargoyles, you kept your jokes to yourself.

Masterlist

[goldfades]

★ PROTECTIVE MODE ─── NK¹⁰ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER

❪ requested -> "can we have a tiny lil short story where manager barely got any sleep the night before an away game and nika gets to sit next to her and manager just fully passes tf out on her😭" ❫

─ pairing | nika muhl x fem!reader

─ warnings | nothing but fluff! usual kk and p activities, protective nika, some banter, nothing else

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

THE BUS RIDE was quieter than usual, everyone still exhausted from the game they had played last night.

You woke up with a pounding headache, you weren't sure why but you could barely even think. Nika had her hand on your waist as she led you carefully into the bus and sat next to you quickly, ignoring KK and Paige's protests.

"Bro, you sat next to her on the way here, it's our turn-" Paige swiftly shut her mouth when she met Nika's glare, sitting down quietly next to KK. "Okay, whatever."

"She's my girlfriend," Nika stated firmly, her tone brooking no argument as she adjusted herself in the seat, making sure you were settled comfortably beside her. Despite the throbbing in your head, her touch was soothing, and you leaned into her slightly, grateful for her support.

The other girls exchanged glances, amusement flickering in their eyes. They knew better than to challenge Nika when she was in protective mode, especially when it came to you.

You leaned into Nika's comforting presence, grateful for her steady support. The pounding headache dulled slightly as you closed your eyes, trying to block out the throbbing pain. Nika's hand remained on your waist, a silent reassurance that she was there for you, even amidst the chaos of the bus ride.

Nika smiled softly as she rubbed your arm. "You wanna sleep, my love?"

"No, aren't you tired?" You mumbled softly as you sat up.

Nika chuckled softly, her eyes warm with affection as she gazed at you. "I'm never too tired to take care of you, sweetheart."

She knew how much you sacrificed for the team, always putting others before yourself. It was just like you to worry about her exhaustion when you were the one who needed rest the most.

When you two started dating, she made her ultimate mission to be take care of you knowing how much you gave to everyone else. Nika understood the weight of your responsibilities as manager, often shouldering burdens that went usually go unnoticed by the others.

From that moment on, she became your rock, always there to support you through the long practices, the late-night strategy sessions, and the inevitable highs and lows of the basketball season. Whether it was offering a listening ear after a tough loss or simply holding you close during moments of exhaustion, Nika was unwavering in her devotion to you.

"Baby," Nika gazed at you, her eyes serious. "Lay down and relax, it's okay. I'm fine, I need to do some homework anyway," her voice was stern as a small smile began to play at the corners of her lips.

With a gentle but firm hand, she guided you back into your seat, urging you to lean back and close your eyes. You hesitated for a moment, wanting to protest, but the exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, and Nika's insistence was hard to ignore.

Reluctantly, you followed her guidance, allowing yourself to sink into the plush seat and finally let your guard down. Nika smiled softly, her fingers trailing lightly over your forehead as she brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face.

"Thank you," you whispered, gratitude swelling in your chest.

Nika leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Anytime, my love. Now rest. I'll be right here when you wake up."

A few moments later, Nika glanced at you to see that you had fallen asleep. She smiled to herself at how fast you had passed out, her gaze filled with admiration as she watched over you with a tender affection. In the stillness of the bus, surrounded by the quiet breathing of your teammates and the soft rumble of the engine, Nika's heart swelled with love for you.

"Simp," she heard Paige whisper to her left, earning a giggle from KK.

Nika couldn't help but laugh as she shook her head, "Be quiet, you're gonna wake her up."

"No, seriously shut the fuck up, you know how she gets when someone wakes her up from nap time," Ice's voice echoed quietly from behind them.

The entire team exchanged glances before quickly falling silent. They knew all too well the consequences of disturbing your much-needed rest, especially after an exhausting game.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[flwrkid14]

♡ masterlist ♡

all of my prompts can be found here!!

updated on 2/6/25

tim drake :

tim leaves the bats , silent rebellion , a haunted hero , athena's soldier , you can't outrun the gods , tim drake turns 18 , tim drake is danny fenton , the camera crisis , the immortal weight , heartthrob conspiracy , heartthrob with loser rizz , always the almost ,

the reluctant savior , buried beneath laughter , accidentally taking over the world , the making of joker junior , nail artist by night , the day gotham let him go , never anyone's favorite ,

tim drake and others :

the forgotten robins , the ultimate problem solvers , the underrated duo , tim and damian bond over pancakes , bonding over pancakes pt.2 , dad of chaos and protector of twins , tim drake is a fenton pt.1 , tim drake is a fenton pt.2 , tim drake is a fenton pt.3 ,

tim and danny as frozen , tim's most unhinged power move , unwilling favorite brothers , between healing and fear , finding their place , damian believes tim , shared custody with a rogue , tim gets adopted by green arrow , everyone wants to be the favorite ,

jason todd: dad mode activated , resident alley cat , christmas list tradition , tim's unreachable heart , taste of home ,

brain dead :

tim loves like odysseus , eternal bonds , obsession meets devotion , famous danny and his secret boyfriend , gotham's most feared power couple , unspoken bonds , campus couple: football edition , campus couple: cheerleader edition , danny has fangs—tim's obsessed ,

tim drake turns 18, brain dead version , red hood vs. red robin, a boyfriend's dilemma , tim drake responds to thirst tweets , everyone wants to be danny's favorite , falling for the one you can't have , two lost souls , the makeup stream , from vigilante to royalty ,

ra's and his matchmaking skills , letters in green ink , first thanksgiving , tim moves to amity park , love and obsession , the weight of protection , a love that hurts , everyone knows they're dating , take my heart, take my name , the marriage pact ,

doomed together, doomed apart , tim doesn't believe in ghosts , tim drake is a halfa , what could have been , sleep-deprived tim , what they have, what they'll always be , the forms of love , curious case of phantom , learning to be someone's favorite , legends in the realms ,

tim and danny vs. la llorona , the tomorrows that won't come , love, scribbled in the margins , consumed by love, blind to the truth ,

batfam :

jason's lost voice , damian's favorite movie , duke isn't the normal one , october shenanigans , the bats go to hamilton , damian's LPS collection , halloween special , training the bat-way , conditional love

others :

percy and his technology curse

[aliyahwritings]

rafe cameron as a f1 driver & reader is wag 😆😆

BEFORE THE RACE — Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST

Pairing: F1 Driver!Rafe & WAG!Female Reader

Content: it's all fluff and cute

Word Count: 675

Aliyah's Notes: i kind of really like this tbh 😭 if you want me to make it longer or in a different format im up for it

The night before the race was always the same—tension thick in the air, the hum of anticipation surrounding you both. You sat beside Rafe in the quiet of your hotel room, the city lights flickering outside the window like distant stars. He was deep in thought, going over his race strategy for the hundredth time. His persona had shifted into focus mode, the weight of the race ahead pressing down on him.

You weren’t new to this—being with Rafe meant getting used to the rituals, the quiet moments before a storm of roaring engines and flashing cameras. You knew that tomorrow wasn't about you, but about the man beside you, the Formula 1 driver who could outpace anything or anyone.

His eyes, though still carrying that familiar spark, held a seriousness you rarely saw. He’d always been impulsive, driven by passion and instinct, but this was different. This was the calm before the chaos. He wasn’t the man you saw on magazine covers, all cocky smiles and smirks. Tonight, he was just Rafe—your Rafe.

You watched him for a moment, your heart swelling with pride. “You nervous?” you asked, your voice gentle.

Rafe chuckled, a soft sound, his lips curling into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not nervous. Just… focused,” he replied, though you could see the faint furrow between his brows.

You shifted closer to him on the couch, curling your legs beneath you. “You’ll crush it tomorrow. You always do.”

He met your gaze, the familiar warmth in his eyes returning for a brief moment. “I’ll try to. But… can you remind me after the race how much I hate interviews?”

You laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze his arm/bicep. “You say that every time, but you love the spotlight.”

“Love it and hate it, both at the same time.” He grinned, but his fingers tightened around your thigh. “I’ll be fine, though. It’s just another race.”

You knew better than to reply back. The pressure of racing had a way of getting to him, no matter how confident he appeared. “If you need a distraction, you know I’m happy to be one.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A distraction, huh?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” you teased, nudging him playfully. But deep down, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the race. He often turned to you in the quiet moments before a race, his grounding presence helping him settle the nerves that no one saw. You’d become his safe space, the place where the chaos of his world melted away.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re my favorite kind of distraction, you know that?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and teasing, but you pushed the feeling aside. “You’ve got this, Rafe. Just… focus. Don’t let anyone get in your head.”

He leaned back, pulling you with him so you could lie against his chest. The weight of his heart beating beneath your ear was both comforting and overwhelming. “You always know what to say, pretty girl,” he murmured.

You rested your head against him, letting the moment stretch out. The world outside was already buzzing with excitement for the race tomorrow, but here, in this quiet, stolen moment, it was just the two of you—Rafe, the driver, and you, the woman who loved him, ready to stand by him through whatever came next.

“Go get ’em tomorrow,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.

Rafe’s hand slipped into your hair, pulling you closer. “I’ll race for you, you know.”

It wasn’t just the adrenaline of the track or the thrill of the competition that kept him going—it was the unspoken promise between the two of you, a promise that no matter what happened tomorrow, you’d both make it through together.

Tomorrow, he’d race. But tonight, you’d hold him in the calm before the storm. And, somehow, that felt like the most important race of all.