#one shoulder kaftan

[kalpanaseth]

Discover Kaftans for Your Stylish Wardrobe!

Elevate Your Style Game with the Season's Hottest Trend: Explore Kaftans for a Chic and Stylish Wardrobe Upgrade! We'll guide you on where to find the best kaftans online. So, let's jump right in!

[beansprean]

introducing Katya Zamolodchikova as Nancy the Relentless!!! a concept @vampireshmampire and i braindumped about like a year ago lmao. far before the rumors about Trixie Mattel being in s6 came out owo!

My Familiar’s Ghost part 80

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Small panel, waist up of Nandor and Guillermo on a vague grayish-blue background. Nandor has one hand on his hip and the other pointing upwards as he leans toward Guillermo sternly and says 'Now I will show you how to call long distance.' Guillermo looks up at him, rubbing his arm awkwardly, still flushed from the previous page, and responds 'Ok...' 1b. Chest up of Nandor on a brighter blue background with his eyes closed in concentration, palms held up and out. He clears his throat and says, in a wispy bright blue speech bubble, 'I, Nandor the Relentless, am calling out to the etherrrr to inquire about available familiarsssss...' 1c. Shoulders up of Nandor and Guillermo lurching to one side in shock, Nandor's hands flying up, shoulder crashing into Guillermo's, as a glowing blue bubble suddenly shoves into their panel. Inside the bubble is a thin white vampire in drag with long white-blonde hair styled half up in a high ponytail by a sparkly red scrunchie. She is wearing a thin red dress with a black leather corset, a red-violet leopard fur capelet with gold coins dangling from the hem, a red jabot at her neck with a bat shaped gold brooch decorated with rubies, and shoulder length red gloves with ruby-encrusted gold caps shaped like claws on each finger. She lurches into frame with a huge, devious grin, shouting, 'Nandor, babygirl! Is that you?!' 1d. Repeat of Nandor and Guillermo standing side by side, Guillermo now having moved to stand slightly behind. Nandor slumps and scowls, already looking exhausted by this encounter, and greets poisonously 'Hello, Nancy the Relentless.' Guillermo frowns up at Nancy but stays quiet. From offscreen, Nancy coos, 'Heyy, mama! Still shopping in Turkish Cryptkeeper Kohls? I love that for you.' Nandor replies, irritated, 'This kaftan is not coal, it is made of wool from the sheeps of Al Q-' Nancy interrupts and asks, 'So, you're looking for a familiar?'

2a. Waist up of Nancy in her ether bubble, right arm crossed over her chest to rest on her left bicep, left hand reaching up to tap a jaunty claw on her cheek. She raises a brow and grins, tongue curling around one fang, and asks teasingly, 'Does that mean your scrumptious little slayer-boy is finally availableeee? 2b. Chest up of Nandor and Guillermo side by side. Glare fixed on Nancy, Nandor throws an arm out in front of Guillermo and shouts, 'No!! I have told you before, he is mine!' Guillermo startles, a green glow beginning to creep up behind him as goosebumps skitter up and down his shoulders. Nancy replies to Nandor, 'And your title is mine, Nandor the Plagiarist!' Nandor snaps back, 'I have been called Relentless since before you were born, Nancy the- the Pretender!' 2c. Repeat. Guillermo blushes and looks away, lips pursing as if attempting to whistle nonchalantly as his hand reaches up to grip the arm Nandor is holding in front of him and move it away from his body. Nandor's eyes flit over to him curiously, color rising to his cheeks. Nancy continues, 'Ooh, baby, you know how I feel about older men yelling at me. You should call more often.' 2d. Close up of Nandor in profile in the foreground, Nancy's bubble beyond. He glares at her and asks sharply, 'Do you know of any familiars looking for work or not?' Nancy, full body visible now as she perches on the edge of a table and leans back on one arm, legs crossed at the knee to reveal the high slit in her dress, fishnets, and thigh high black leather boots. She closes her eyes haughtily and stretches her free arm outward in a clearly rehearsed pose, replying, 'Well, gorgeous, effortless, beloved vampires usually receive applications directly...' 2e. Repeat. Nandor arches his eyebrows and turns his head away from Nancy toward the viewer, muttering, 'Then you must alert me if you find such a vampire.' Nancy wheezes with shocked laughter, kicking her legs wildly and flapping her arms, delighted rather than offended by the dig. Through her laughs, she declares, 'Read!!' 2f. Chest up of Nandor and Guillermo, the latter standing just behind and gripping the edge of Nandor's sleeve. Offscreen, Nancy recovers from her fit and says, 'Well, since I'm nice, I'll forward you a few. But- hello! Is that the slayer behind you? Did you turn him?! You bitch!! Guillermo, call m-!' Nandor scowls and interrupts, saying quickly, 'YesthankyouNancygoodbye.' He then flaps his hand in the air, dispersing Nancy's bubble and ending the call. Behind him, Guillermo frowns, flustered and blushing. 2g. Repeat. Nandor lowers his hand and glares where Nancy once appeared, sneering, 'Yeesh, why could you not have slain her?' Guillermo aims an unimpressed glance toward him, still purple in the cheeks. /end ID

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Fashion History

to try to include in your poem/story (pt. 2/3)

Exomis - a short, asymmetrical wrap garment pinned at the left shoulder, worn by men in Ancient Greece

Eye of Horus - or Wedjat eye, is an ancient Egyptian symbol that represents the eye of the falcon-headed god Horus and symbolizes healing and regeneration and was often worn for protection

Faience - a man-made ceramic material that was often used in ancient Egypt to make jewelry and devotional objects; it is usually a blue color

Falling Band - a flat and broad white collar often with lace on the edges, worn by men and women in the 17th century

Fibula - served as a pin to both hold garments together and to show status of those with prestige or power within society; was popular in Greek culture

Fichu - a triangular shawl, usually worn by women, draped over the shoulders and crossed or fastened in the front

Fontange - a linen cap with layers of lace and ribbon, worn flat and pinned to the back of the head

French Hood - a rounded headdress for women that was popular in the 16th century (from 1540)

Frock Coat - a collared man’s coat worn through the eighteenth to the twentieth century; rose to prominence mainly in the nineteenth century, especially Victorian England; characterized as a knee-length overcoat, buttoned down to the waist, that drapes over the lower half of the body like a skirt

Frogging - ornamental braid or cording that can function as a garment closure, or be solely decorative

Gabled Hood - a woman’s headdress that is wired to create a point at the top of the head and has fabric that drapes from the back of the head

Gigot Sleeve - a sleeve that was full at the shoulder and became tightly fitted to the wrist; also called leg-of-mutton sleeve

Guipure Lace - a type of continuous bobbin lace made without a mesh ground; its motifs are connected by bridges or plaits

Himation - a rectangular cloak wrapped around the body and thrown over the left shoulder worn by the ancient Greeks

Huipilli/Huipil - a woven rectangular shirt worn by women in Central America beginning in ancient times

Jerkin - a close-fitting men’s jacket, often worn for warmth, sometimes without sleeves; worn over a doublet in the 16th and 17th centuries

Justaucorps - a long-sleeved, knee-length coat worn by men after 1666 and throughout the 18th century

Kaftan - (also caftan) is an ancient garment, which originated in ancient Persia but then spread across Central and Western Asia; a kind of robe or tunic that was worn by both men and women

Katazome (stencil printing) - a traditional Japanese method for printing designs onto fabric using a stencil and paste-resist dyes

Kaunakes - one of the earliest forms of clothing; made from goat or sheep’s wool and meant to be worn around the waist like a skirt, it is recognizable by its fringe detailing

Kente - a Ghanaian strip woven textile that has striped patterns and bright colors with corresponding meanings

Knickerbockers - or “knickers” are full or baggy trousers gathered at the knee or just below and usually fastened with either a button or buckle; were initially worn by men in the late 19th century and gradually became part of women’s fashion; the garment was usually worn as sportswear and became especially popular among golfers and female cyclists, hence the term “pedal pushers”

Kohl - a black material made out of minerals such as galena and used for eyeliner and eye protection in ancient Egypt

Labret - a type of lip-piercing worn by various cultures to indicate wealth, prosperity and beauty

Love Lock - a lock of hair from the nape of the neck hanging over the chest to show romantic attachment; it was a popular hairstyle between 1590-1650

Lurex - a shiny synthetic fiber made of aluminum-coated plastic with a glittering metallic sheen

Mantua - a jacket-like bodice with pulled back overskirt that bustled in the back, often in elaborately patterned fabric, first worn in the 17th century

Medici Collar - a collar that stands upright on the back of the neck and opens in the front; this type of ruff was introduced to France by Marie de’ Medici in the 16th century, taking her name two centuries later

Moccasins - a type of soft animal skin shoe that were worn by Indians in North America

Muff - a tubular padded covering of fur or fabric, into which both hands are placed for warmth

Mule - a backless shoe

Muslin - a simple plain-weave textile made out of cotton and available in varying weights and finishes; historically, there were also varieties of muslin in silk and wool

Needle Lace -often known as “needlepoint lace”; is a term referring to the technique in which the lace is made of entirely needle work; it developed in the 15th century and then became very popular throughout the 16th century

Nemes Headdress - starched, striped linen headdress that draped on the shoulders and had a tail at center back worn only by royals in ancient Egypt

Panes/Paning - a method of decoration using long parallel strips of fabric arranged to reveal a contrasting fabric underneath that was fashionable from the 15th-17th centuries

Panniers - an under-structure used in eighteenth-century fashion that created a shape wide at the sides and flat at the front and back

Pantalettes - (also referred to as pantaloons) are loose, pants-like undergarments that covered women’s lower halves in the late 18th and early 19th century

Particolored - the combination of different colors within the same garment along the vertical axis

Passementerie - an additional accent or embellishment in silk or metallic threads, such as an embroidered braid, tassel or fringe

Pattens - wooden-soled platform over-shoes, which were commonly worn from the 14th century to the 18th century

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Fashion History ⚜ Word Lists

[royalarmyofoz]

Sadie x Katherine: rich, bored housewife Katherine and tennis instructor Sadie au

drabble by the lovely @harrietdyker

“Katherine?” Sadie calls, dropping her double racket bag somewhere along the entrance hall as she steps carefully into the giant, bright, quiet house. She’s yet to familiarize herself with it, and really, why would she? Sadie’s not meant to spend any time here. She’s not meant to know these rooms any more intimately than a delivery boy who’s been offered a glass of water during an extremely hot day. She’s not meant to know that if she would round the corner to her right here, and look up towards the top of the stairs that rise dramatically in the middle of the room, she would see the edges of a sculpture of Hebe on the landing of the second floor, the only sculpture Katherine likes around this place. Or that all the good alcohol around the house is in the secret kitchen downstairs. Or how to find her way to Katherine’s bedroom.

But she does. 

Her white sneakers, newly purchased, squeak when she steps a little too hard on the hardwood flooring, and Sadie grimaces with every step. She feels cheap in comparison to everything around her, and that makes her feel stupid for allowing herself to become comfortable in Katherine’s company. Way too comfortable.

As she debates whether she should check the nearest kitchen or the south-facing drawing room first, Katherine emerges from behind her, making Sadie jump when she says her name. Instead of being practice-ready in her tights and tank top, Katherine is covered in her favorite kaftan and on her feet are her favorite house shoes. Sadie is always taken aback by the casualty of her, how she’s impeccably put together and yet deeply unbothered at the same time. She never expects to see her this way, but that’s how Katherine is more and more these days. Ever since—well.

(Ever since she rubbed herself against Sadie’s thigh while Sadie had her hand in her hair and said, are you gonna come for me? I wanna see you come for me.

Katherine did so fast she sobbed unexpectedly and kissed Sadie so hard Sadie couldn’t breathe.)

“Did I get our time wrong?” Sadie asks.

“What?” Katherine replies.

“I thought we scheduled—”

“Oh, we did,” Katherine cuts her off with a wave of her hand. “Let’s not.”

“You could have told me before.”

“I’ll pay you anyway.”

Katherine steps past Sadie into the south-facing drawing room, signaling Sadie with her eyes to follow.

“That’s not the issue,” Sadie says. It should be. Sadie’s forgotten herself. She was here to do a job. Now she finds herself leaning against a console table where Katherine is pouring them both a serving of martini out of a silver shaker.

Katherine hands Sadie her glass. “Then what is it?”

“My time. I can teach other people. Or—”

“Or what?” Katherine deadpans, eyes locked on Sadie’s in that vaguely intimidating way of hers. The one Sadie can’t figure out how to navigate.

“Or make plans,” she squares her jaw and says.

Katherine’s eyes fall shut as she sips her cocktail. “You can go,” she says.

And here’s the crux of the matter: Sadie doesn’t go.

“Where’s Richard?” she asks.

“Oh, who knows,” Katherine sighs. It’s always somewhere, doing something. It’s always Katherine who’s here, doing nothing. Sadie gets it. She thinks. She gets the feeling of it, at least. She doesn’t want to think too much about this sense of stagnation that Katherine uses Sadie to alleviate. Every time Katherine traces the scars on her shoulder absentmindedly, Sadie refuses to think about it.

She reaches out, brushes a stray strand of Katherine’s hair into place and bites her tongue at the way Katherine’s gasps when she touches her. Whenever she touches Katherine, there is something.

“You can’t pay me for fucking you,” she says. There’s a limit to how cheap she can allow herself to feel.

“Whatever you prefer, Sadie,” Katherine says.

“Next time,” she murmurs as she steps into Katherine’s space, cradles her cheek in her palm. “You can just call.”

Katherine’s breath leaves her in a rush when Sadie kisses her. There’s always something. Sadie’s not sure what happens when the novelty runs out. But as long as it’s here, she lets herself get drunk on how desperate Katherine is when she kisses Sadie's neck, saying, “Okay,” without listening.

She’d never just call, Sadie knows. That’s fine. This way Sadie doesn’t have to admit she doesn’t want to make other plans, prefers finding new ways that Katherine’s never been fucked before and watch as she shatters beautifully underneath them.

[shares-a-vest]

"Are you sure you don't want to just come over to my place?"

Steve bites his lip, contemplating the proposal Robin has offered him several times this week, ever since he'd told her he was having lunch with his parents.

It was Father's Day after all.

His parents would be home for at least a fortnight this time, on a quick stop-over in Hawkins before leaving again, this time for a vacation somewhere. They needed "a break" his mother had said with a laboured sigh, all whistful and longing as if she wasn't making such a statement amidst a lengthy monologue about all the friends they had just caught up with in Indianapolis.

Steve guesses they were technically a business trip. Though his recollections of such trips he'd gone as a kid (back when his parents absolutely had to bring him along) did involve the odd visit to Head Office in between social gatherings that only ever felt vaguely related to his father's business.

He turns away from the wall-mounted phone in the kitchen to look out at the patio. His father is sitting on a lounge chair, drinking a coffee and, low and behold, reading his new copy of The Bourne Supremacy Steve had handed him at breakfast.

His father was impossible to buy for - so a book was always a safe enough choice, one that would at least give him a "thank you" in return with no further commentary or snark.

"Uh..." he hums into the phone as his father turns a page, "Y'know what? Maybe later."

He gasps as his mother opens the back sliding door to the kitchen, the skirt of her yellow patterned kaftan flowing along with her. He turns back to the wall, crowding the phone base.

"Steve?" his mother asks, chuckling, "You're still on the phone!"

It isn't exactly chastising, more amused like Robin's mother gets about the pair of them talking on the phone for a solid hour at a time.

He looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes as his best friend groans at the comment.

"Are you sure?" Robin asks, tone abruptly turning serious, "You know my dad loves you, Steve."

"I'll come by later," he insists, "Promise."

"...Okay..." she sighs before hanging up.

As he mounts the speaker, Steve is greeted with a knowing look from his mother. She is holding a glass of iced tea, fresh ice cubes tinkling away in the tall glass.

"Mom, don't," he whines, hoping to get outside and drive straight into the pool and away from any further conversation.

She holds her free hand up in surrender, tilting her head, "Okay, darling."

"I'm going for a dip," he grumbles before heading out to the pool area.

"Your mother and I are headed over to the Martens soon," his father announces as Steve passes by his reclining form.

His stomach drops and he freezes mid-stride to the outdoor chair he'd designated for his towel.

"What?" he blurts out, practically shouting as he whips around.

His father sets his book in his lap and looks up, shielding his eyes from the sun with his left hand. The sunlight reflects off his shiny watch and directly into Steve's eyes.

He grimaces, quickly mirroring his father.

"But..." he begins, trying to even out his clipped tone, "You said... We... You said we were having lunch here?"

"Your mother didn't tell you?"

"But..." he repeats, his voice catching in his throat a little, "It's Father's Day."

His father stands, stretches and gathers up the beach towel he had propped under his knees.

"We wanted to see them before we headed out."

"You're here for two weeks!" Steve argues, waving his hand as if to capture the presumed time his father has to visit his oldest and most insufferable friend.

"Steve, John and Louise's son is that busy working, he doesn't have time to be sitting around on Father's Day. So, we figured we'd meet them for lunch."

"Um..." he gulps, now blinking away tears.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in and out as slowly as his growing anger will allow. The sun feels like it is burning into his bare skin, now, no longer feeling like the calming warmth he had felt when he came out to access the pool earlier.

He opens his eyes to find his father turned towards the back door.

"I'm going to Robin's."

He doesn't wait for an answer as he pushes past his father and back into the kitchen. Thankfully, his mother is nowhere to be seen as he makes a beeline for the laundry room where he'd left his work clothes from yesterday with his car keys still in the pocket of his jeans.

He grabs his Member's Only jacket from the coat rack on the way out. Even though the thing is less than weather-appropriate for a Sunday in June, right now it will suffice...

"Steve!" Robin's dad beams after he opens the front door.

The man is wearing a comically bright shirt, a Hawaiian-style button-up with a primary-coloured geometric pattern and squiggly green swirls. Steve thinks his father would hate it.

"Hi, Mr Buckley," he says, offering a tight-lipped smile as he holds out a store-bought key lime pie.

"Steve, please call me Richard," the man insists, unaware that sharing a name with his own father makes Steve want to fucking scream.

Richard takes a pie with a formal nod, his smile dropping a little as Steve shuffles about on the spot. The man looks him up and down.

Shit.

He'd forgotten about the jacket just as quickly as he had shrugged it on before speeding off in his car. But Richard waves him in with an insistent hand, thankfully not prying any further. It is probably quite obvious he isn't wearing a shirt underneath. The thought makes him itch as he becomes all too aware of the slippery fabric, its lining making the back of his neck prickle with sweat.

"Robin is in her room," Richard whispers as Steve steps inside and remembers his flip-flops too as they scuff on the threshold.

"The pie is from Melvad's, sorry," is all he thinks to say.

Richard gives him a pat on the back, just as Robin begins descending the staircase, wearing a shirt just as loud as her father's, only purple and maroon.

She smiles, though her eyes suggest she is clearly worried.

"Steve's here, darling!" Richard announces, intentionally boisterous for their close proximity.

"Oh, thank god," Robin dry-sobs, making grabby hands for the pie.

But Richard snatches it up, playing a one-sided game of keep-away that Robin doesn't even attempt to buy into. He lowers his hand with a swooping flourish, looking a little disappointed.

"Anything's better than the in-laws' dry fruit pudding," he laughs as they both examine the dessert.

"Come on," Robin says, grabbing Steve's hand and yanking him towards the stairs, "This Father's Day's theme is Richard Buckley-Approved Shirts, I've already got one ready for you. It's yellow. You'll love it."

[lottiesboy]

meeting dada’s friends!!

pairing: cg!nat scatorccio x little!reader

summary: you meet the rest of the yellowjackets for the first time at camp green pine.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, daddy!nat, he/him nat, shy baby reader, soooo many aunties and uncle van :33

"you ready to meet daddy's friends?" nat smiled slightly, unbuckling your seatbelt. it was a pretty long drive to camp green pine from wiskayok, so you took a quick nap on the way there. nat snickered, watching you rub your sleepy little eyes.

"aww, you tired?" he pulled your paci out of your mouth and you yawned. the sun was setting fast, making nat happy that he wouldn't have to drive in the dark woods. he grabbed your diaper bag and picked you up, putting you on his hip. you gripped onto the collar of his leather jacket, resting your head on his shoulder.

he talked to you sweetly as he walked up the dirt trail to the camp, and you just tried not to fall asleep again. he could see lottie's kaftan flowing in the cold night air, checking on her bees for the last time today.

"hey, lot." he said nonchalantly, lottie looking up and seeing you being held by nat. "well, hello there!" lottie smiled when she saw you. she's the only one that you've met out of nat's highschool friends and you grew super close to her. and she loves seeing you when you're little.

“hi, sweetie. you look so adorable. yes you do, your dads dressed you up so nicely.” lottie babied, making you blush.

"everyone gone to bed?" nat asked. "yeah, but tai, van, shauna, and misty are waiting for you in the main room. complaining about how you're always late." lottie smiled. "ahh, geez. okay, you coming?"

"in just a little bit." lottie nodded, walking over to a shed, leaving you and nat alone and the middle of the grassy field. you wriggled in his arms and whined. "you want down?" nat put you down so you could walk, but he still made you hold his hand. "c'mon, baby."

-

nat entered the main room, hearing his friends talk over each other and laughing. he saw how shy you were and smiled softly, ruffling your hair. "it's alright. they're gonna be really nice to you, baby."

"hey guys," nat greeted. you saw all of nat’s friends in a circle, sitting on pillows. you stuck close to nat, your shyness getting the best of you. the four adults greeted themselves, smiling at how close you wanted to be to nat.

nat sat down, putting you in his lap and putting your diaper bag down next to him. “who’s this?” shauna smiled, putting her drink down. you could tell they knew about your regression because they were so sweet about it.

“you wanna say hi, baby?” your daddy encouraged, but you just whined, hiding in his shoulder. “awww, you shy?” he bounced you. “..paci.” you whined, making nat pull it out of his pocket. “dada’s got it right here, shhh.” he pushed it your mouth, feeling you relax in his arms.

the adults couldn’t help but stare at the sweet moment you and nat were sharing. they never really see nat so soft and maternal, and they wanted to soak it all up.

lottie came in later on and turned on some music, but kept it soft. while nat was having a side conversation with misty and lottie, you made eye contact with taissa and van, who were trying to make you laugh by playing peek a boo. nat heard you giggle softly, and saw the two adults up to their silly antics. “is that funny, huh?”

your shyness faded away more and more while interacting with all of nat’s friends, misty not even hesitating to call herself “aunt misty.”

“i think it’s time to get you to bed, little baby? you falling asleep on dada?” you whined at his tone because you didn’t want him to be right, you wanted to stay up!!!!

“no sleepy…”

“oh yeah? your eyes are about to close, buddy. c’mon.” nat held his arms out to pick you up, but you whimpered, nat seeing the fears forming in your eyes. you hated having fomo, especially when you were tiny. “don’t cryyy,,, c’mere, buddy. shh shh. come to dada..” nat picked you up, putting you on his hip.

“we’ll all be here tomorrow, kiddo.” van told you, which made you feel a little bit better. you said “nini” to everyone, and they responded back the same. you and nat walked to the empty cabins, the dirt trail lit up by the cozy light posts. “you like dada’s friends, don’t you? are they silly?”

you nodded, smiling behind your paci. you couldn’t wait to sleep so you could wake up and play again.

[sapphicscholar]

A/N: I’m posting teasers of all the collection fics on Twitter and Bluesky and will make a master list sorted by length or rating over here tomorrow, but for now I’ll share my own 5+1 canon-divergence fic of 5 messy, unsatisfying, and sometimes downright bad sexual encounters between Ava and Deborah + the 1 time they finally get it right

Fic Preview:

1.

The annoyance that bubbles up from somewhere deep in Ava’s gut at the sight of Deborah emerging out of the fucking bowels of the Palmetto is wholly expected. The flare of something hotter throws her off kilter. Deborah looks disheveled in a way she rarely does, weird little kaftan hanging half off one of her shoulders and whisps of blonde hair fluttering around her face and looking so perfectly soft. Ava wants to touch them, maybe let them fall through her fingers. Fuck, she should never have let George talk her into the molly. It always makes her a little too giddy, a little too agreeable, a little too into bad ideas with pretty blue eyes.

“Deborah?” Ava asks because she thinks one of the many powders that went up her nose must’ve gotten stuck to the filter between her brain and her mouth.

“Ava?” Deborah sways into Ava’s line of vision. At first, Ava’s worried that the stupid novelty cup margaritas were a bad idea, but then she realizes that she is, in fact, standing perfectly still, and it’s Deborah who is stumbling and weaving her way forward. “Wow.” The word is stretched into a million-and-one syllables, and Ava’s too curious about where this is all headed to call her on it (yet). “I…” Deborah’s gaze lazily drifts up and down Ava’s bare legs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not wearing pants. What? Did somebody die?” The words are clear enough, but their edges slur together, and if it was supposed to be an insult, it’s not landing. Not with the way Deborah’s eyes still haven’t left Ava’s body.

[braidlottie]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU, BABY.

pairing: lottie matthews x gn!reader

summary: lottie comforts you after a nightmare.

wc: baby fic 723 :(

tags: h/c (hurt/comfort), you live with lottie at sunshine honey, mommy!lottie sneak?!, lottie is super duper sweet to reader as always :3

title inspired by nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cigarettes after sex

“somebody’s ready for bed, i see,” lottie smiled as you slipped into bed, wearing your new pajama set she bought for you. you rested your head against her shoulder, covering your mouth as you yawned. “such a sleepy little one. you had a big day, didn’t you?”

you and lottie and the rest of the adults went out for a nice friendly outing, staying out later than usual. going to ihop, and the fair, even driving out of your local area for a game of mini golf (that shauna suggested of course). you had so much fun, you wished you could redo the day all over again.

nodding, you snuggled into lottie’s pillow, feeling so warm and comfortable already under the white duvet. “aren’t you going to work in your office?”

“just for a bit. you think you’ll still be awake when i’m back?”

“nuh-uh.” you slurred. lottie just chuckled, grabbing her laptop, her glasses and patted your leg. she slipped on one of her kaftans that was hanging up in the closet. “that’s okay if you aren’t, sweetheart. i’ll be twenty minutes. tops.” she kissed you twice, once the nose and the lips before walking down the hall to her office.

the night got quieter and quieter at the compound, until nothing but the swaying of the trees from the wind was heard. you tried to wait up for lottie, so you put on a movie but unfortunately fell asleep within the first minutes.

***

“please, let her go, please! don’t-”

“shut. up.” you heard a man’s voice behind you. he walked over to lottie, pushing her down to the floor. she grunted and sighed, looking back at you with a bloody lip. “it’s gonna be okay-” she was cut off by the man kicking her in the face. you screamed, trying to get out of the ropes that restrained you down to a chair. “stop! stop hurting her, please!” the man pulled his pistol out from the back of his jeans, pointing it at lottie’s head and cocking it back-

“baby? baby, hey,” you were shaken away by lottie. when you were fully aware of where you were, you looked at her, she was completely unscathed, not even a single drop of blood from her lips. you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt lottie’s hand on your cheek, wiping your tears away.

“i heard you shouting from down the hall, sweetheart. did you have a nightmare?” you nodded at the question, letting out a sob when you remembered the awful scenario. you rubbed your teary eyes against the fuzzy blanket you were swaddled in. “oh, little one,” she held out her arms for you.

“c’mere.” she helped you sit up, her hands under your arms. she pulled you into her chest, feeling your tears already soaking into her robe. she wrapped you up in the blanket tighter, planting a sweet kiss on your temple. “do you mind telling me what happened in your nightmare, baby?”

“there was a man, ‘n he was hurting you but i couldn’t stop him, ‘nd- and he was gonna shoot you, but i couldn’t stop him because-” you sobbed and lottie’s heart broke, your words fast and jumbled, along with your hoarse voice.

“we’re safe, angel, okay? it must’ve felt real at the time, but it’s not. what’s real is just me and you right now. he’s not gonna get us, i promise. mommy’s here, baby.” lottie brushed your fresh set of tears away, your cries making an abrupt stop at what lottie called herself. “there you go. you’re okay, honey.”

you felt her pull away, but heard the bedside lamp click on soon after, lighting up the room. lottie knew you didn’t like the dark that much, she just didn’t want you to be more scared than you already were.

“i’m scared to go to sleep again.” you nuzzled closer to her, trying to fight the sleep you were scared to succumb to. “you don’t have to, sweetheart. you wanna walk down to the kitchen with me? mommy’ll make you some tea, cocoa. anything you want, my baby.”

“cocoa.” you whispered, wiping your nose on your sleeve. lottie smiled, picking an eyelash off by the corner of your eye. “yeah? there’s my little one. c’mon,” she grabbed your hand, helping you out of bed.

[formulauno98]

Once Upon a Time in Abu Dhabi | Chapter Eleven

The final race of the season was always a spectacle, however, this season the tension was off-track.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings: Possible pregnancy

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is married in this alt-universe.

Thank you to everyone who has read, commented and shown some love for this fic. It is finally finished! I have plenty more ideas in my head so watch this space!

WEDNESDAY AM

You’d discovered you were pregnant three days ago and were now back in the UK, packing for Abu Dhabi and in utter turmoil. You hadn’t told Toto as he’d jetted off ahead of you on the Monday so you hadn’t shared the news with a single soul. You’d told Rosie it was a bout of food poisoning mixed with exhaustion and she’d not questioned things further. 

Logically you knew you had landed yourself in this situation thanks to your own stupidity but you couldn’t help but feel unlucky. You’d had one slip-up where you’d not been careful and it had been a bullseye. Having gone to your local doctor in Oxfordshire, he had confirmed that you were three months along, meaning that you must have conceived in France. Ever since this revelation you had cursed French wine and Toto’s charm. You were never the type to not be careful and it just went to show that it only takes one time to change your life forever.

As you were a little way along you were already due to have a twelve-week scan but in your heart of hearts, you knew you couldn’t do it without telling Toto. You’d told the concerned doctor that you’d book it in once you were back from Abu Dhabi and discuss options moving forward. Time wasn’t on your side but you’d begun weighing up what to do and knew you had a short window in which you could decide whether or not to move forward with the pregnancy.

Packing was a challenge as although you were nowhere near debuting a baby bump, you’d put on a few pounds around your breasts and hips and nothing fit as it should. Prior to last week, you’d pegged it down to overindulging while travelling but now you weren’t so confident. Shaking your head as you put yet another too-small skirt back into your wardrobe you reached for a loose kaftan-style dress, hoping you wouldn’t stand out too much. You had a sponsor lunch with Toto the following day and you always made an effort to dress to impress. 

Sighing, you finished packing for what would be the final time this season and made your way downstairs to wait for the car that would take you to the airport. You were flying commercial with Sophie and knew everything always took longer than when you flew via private jet. 

THURSDAY AM

Having landed late on Wednesday evening you’d gone straight to your hotel room and straight to bed. Unusually, Toto was staying in a different hotel as the company travel department had had trouble squeezing the whole team into one hotel, leaving the team split in half. Fortunately, they had split the team by department so your direct reports were all nearby.

This meant, however, that you had to take a ten-minute taxi ride to meet Toto in his hotel lobby ahead of your sponsor lunch. He’d offered to pick you up but it would have meant him doubling back on himself as the restaurant you were going to was nearer to his hotel. As your car drew up to the front of his hotel you were apprehensive. You didn’t want to hide anything from Toto but equally, it was not fair to drop this news on him ahead of a business lunch or what was sure to be a tense and stressful weekend. You just had to sit it out for three days and not alert suspicions. Easy peasy.

Crossing the lobby you spotted your beau waiting for you, leaning jauntily against a marble column. As he met your eyes he broke out into a wide grin, obviously as happy to see you as you were him.

“Hey stranger,” he said, giving you an awkward pat on the shoulder before leaning down and whispering, “I want to kiss you but it’s frowned upon here.”

You giggled, Toto was always proper, “That’s fine, bold of you to assume I wanted to kiss you.”

“You’re so mean to me.” he said, before looking you up and down, surveying your outfit and adding with a smirk “Nice outfit by the way, are you trying to blend in with the locals?”

You narrowed your eyes, knowing that the breezy kaftan was not a typical you-outfit, “Perhaps, I fancied a change.”

Toto smiled, “I like it actually, you look very… elegant.”

Bursting out laughing, you replied, “Smooth save.”

Toto laughed, resting his hand on the small of your back, “Shall we go? Our car is waiting.”

“Sure, but no touching Mr., don’t want to give people the wrong idea,” you said, poking your tongue out.

“I’m helping you walk,” he said, chuckling as you made your way out of the hotel lobby.

– – – 

Fortunately for you, lunch passed quickly, with the sponsors agreeing to a new three-year deal, leaving you and Toto beaming. You’d been apprehensive about the meeting following on from the PR disaster that had hit the team last week but fortunately, the majority of suppliers accepted that it was a planted story. The deal was toasted with the same sparkling rosewater that the drivers would be spraying on the podium so luckily you didn’t even need to feign drinking.

As you made your way back to the car that would take you to Toto’s hotel, Toto’s phone rang.

“Do you mind if I take this, it’s my lawyer?” he asked.

“Of course, take it!” you said, “I’ll wait here.”

As you settled down on a cushy chair in the entrance of the restaurant, Toto made his way outside for some privacy. You were curious about what the latest was but knew that these kinds of things took time and it was likely just a courtesy call.

You took the brief reprieve to catch up on your emails and messages, your job busy as ever. You were grateful for your team, often fielding and solving issues before they even came to you, however, last week had been an unprecedented challenge and your inbox was still full of tabloid journalists looking for gossip.

As you typed yet another “No comment” response, Toto made his way back towards you, a wide smile on his face.

“Good news?” you asked, gathering your phone and notebook up.

“Yes and no.” said Toto, “The man in contact with Lara is one of the Red Bull senior management, so not Christian.”

Your eyes widened as you made your way out of the restaurant alongside Toto, “To be honest, I’m not surprised. Christian’s smart, if he did have anything to do with it, he would have gotten someone else to do his dirty work.”

“Exactly,” said Toto, deep in thought.

THURSDAY PM

Having wrapped another relentless media day, thankfully the last one of the season, you were now settled into Toto’s room for the evening, curled up on the balcony watching the glorious sunset, with a book in hand, while Toto took a shower. Thoughts raced through your mind at one hundred miles an hour, overthinking all of the possible scenarios that would follow you telling Toto your news. You’d known each other a while but hadn’t been romantically involved for that long and you had never even discussed whether Toto wanted any more children. You knew you had to tell him asap but finding the right time was going to be tricky.

“Y/N.” came a deep voice from the patio door.

“Hey, feeling better?” you asked, turning around to the easy-on-the-eyes sight of a shirtless Toto with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yes, I feel human again.” he said, walking out onto the balcony and ducking down to kiss your forehead, “Sorry I was grumpy earlier.”

You laughed, patting his shoulder, “It’s okay, we all have those days.” Toto had been in a foul mood all afternoon, a culmination of being grilled by journalists about his private life and suffering in a long-sleeved shirt in the extreme Abu Dhabi heat. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” he asked with a grin, “Can I get you a drink?”

Suddenly in a panic, you replied hastily. “I’m fine with water, thanks.”

Toto raised his eyebrows, knowing that you normally loved a glass of wine after a long, difficult day. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, I just have a small headache, I think I didn’t drink enough water today,” you said, hoping he’d buy it.

“Do you need paracetamol?” he asked, looking concerned.

“No, no,” you said, “I already took some, don’t worry.”

Still looking a little worried, Toto seemed to believe your cover story, “If you’re sure. I might get a beer if it’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” you said, laughing at his ever-impeccable manners. “Come join me, it’s nice out here with the breeze.”

“If you’re sure,” he replied, disappearing back into the room before promptly returning with a cold beer in one hand and a glass of water in another.

“Come here,” you said, scooching over on your sunlounger to make room.

“I’m not going to fit there!” he said, looking down suspiciously.

“You’ll just have to get cosy with me,” you said, batting your eyelashes.

“If I absolutely have to,” he said with a smirk, setting the drinks down on the side table and ducking down to lie down beside you, pulling you across onto his chest as he lay down on his back.

“This is nice,” you said, resting your head on his bare chest, feeling his heart racing.

“Mmm,” he said, pulling you closer and tracing circles on your hip. “I wish we could do this all day.”

Smiling, you felt his heart slowing down as he relaxed, “After tomorrow we can.”

Toto sighed, “I’ve never needed the break so badly.”

“I know, I don’t like seeing you so stressed,” you replied, feeling guilty that you were keeping a secret that would only add to his woes.

“You de-stress me,” he said, clutching you even closer.

“I try,” you said, feeling even worse.

FRIDAY AM

Having dozed off on the sunlounger, you and Toto had dragged yourselves to bed, falling asleep as soon as your heads hit the pillow. Waking up, you felt rejuvenated, you’d needed a peaceful sleep after the chaos of the last few weeks.  

Carefully extracting yourself from a still-asleep Toto’s arms (he loved a cuddle) you tip-toed to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You’d planned to head to the gym with Toto but life had other plans as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. 

“Fuck.” you said out loud, turning sideways to see that your stomach had suddenly curved ever so slightly outwards overnight. It wasn’t enough to look like a bump but it was noticeable and you knew that your gym kit would leave no room to hide, raising questions.

“Everything okay?” asked a voice from outside the bathroom. Toto had obviously woken up and heard your cursing.

“Yes, just tripped over the bathmat,” you said, wrapping yourself in a robe and trying not to rouse suspicion as you opened the door to let Toto in. “By the way, I think I might skip the gym for a swim this morning.”

“Oh.” he replied, obviously a little disappointed that you wouldn’t be joining him, “Is everything okay?”

“Yep, all good.” you said, “I just don’t want to overdo it.”

“If you’re sure.” he said, “Maybe I could come for a swim with you?”

“No.” you blurted out, far more harshly than you intended.

“Just a suggestion,” he said, his eyebrows raising.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just know that you prefer the gym,” you said, making your way over towards him.

“Are you sure you are feeling okay Y/N? I’ve been worried about you since Brazil.” Toto replied, looking down at you curiously.

“I’m fine,” you said, stretching up for a quick kiss.

“If you’re sure,” said Toto, looking unconvinced.

– – – 

Toto had left for the gym, leaving you to deal with your latest problem. You felt guilty about lying to Toto about going for a swim but you needed peace and quiet to gather your thoughts. And more pressingly, figure out how you were going to fit into your normally snug-fitting Mercedes uniform. 

You’d tried stretching your trousers to fit but it seemed beyond the realms of physics that you were going to fit into them. Desperate times called for desperate measures and you called Rosie in a panic.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?” she replied, sounding somewhat sleepy.

“Morning Rosie, I am sorry to call you but I have a small emergency,” you said.

“Shit, what’s happened now,” she said, suddenly sounding much more lucid.

“Oh no no, nothing bad, don’t worry. Basically, I’ve gained a few pounds and my uniform doesn’t fit. Could I possibly borrow your spare set?”

At that, Rosie burst out laughing. You could hear George stirring awake in the background, inquiring as to who was calling so early. “That’s the emergency? Sure I’ll come over. Are you in Toto’s hotel?”

“Yep, room 754.” You said, “Thank you so much, you are a lifesaver.”

“I’ll be right there,” she said, hanging up.

– – – 

Not five minutes had passed when there was a gentle knock on the door. Rosie was once again to the rescue.

“Morning,” you said as you opened the door to a bleary-eyed Rosie sporting her pyjamas and a Mercedes-branded tote bag.

“Morning,” she replied sleepily, stepping into the room. “So I have two different sizes of uniform and I brought them both.”

“Oh my God, Rosie you are a lifesaver, thank you thank you.” you squealed as she handed you two pairs of trousers and two shirts, “Can I try both?”

“Sure,” she said kindly, “I’m sure the smaller set will be better since you’re much smaller than me.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” you said furtively, heading into the bathroom.

“Well, you know what they say about people in relationships,” she said, from outside the door.

“Huh?” you replied, sticking your head out as you struggled with the smaller pair of trousers.

“You pile on the pounds when you’re happy,” she said laughing.

Grimacing, you wriggled around, fighting the waistband “I must be super happy then, looks like it will be the bigger pair.”

“Sheesh! You really have piled on the pounds,” said Rosie, before backtracking when she saw your face drop, “I’m just joking, oh my gosh I would kill to look like you!”

Struggling to fight back the tears, you decided it was now or never to spill, “Rosie, don’t freak out.”

Now it was Rosie’s turn to say “Huh?” your best friend and confidant looking curiously at you. “What’s wrong Y/N?”

“I’m pregnant.” you blurted out.

Rosie’s face went through a full circle of emotions as she processed the news, her initial shock turning into a smile that then dropped as she considered the ramifications. “Are you sure?”

“Yep.” you gulped, “Remember in France, when I had the scare and then in Brazil when I wasn’t feeling well and you made me go to the medic?”

“Fuck, I knew something was up!” said Rosie, so shocked that she’d had to take a seat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed.

“Yep,” you said, tears now fully flowing as you sat down beside her in your still unbuttoned too-small trousers.

“Oh love, it’s going to be okay.” she said, putting her arm around you, “What did Toto say?”

“Nothing… I haven’t told him yet,” you said bashfully.

“You haven’t told him?” Rosie asked incredulously, “You need to tell him Y/N!”

“I know, but there hasn’t been the right moment,” you said.

“Aw Y/N, don’t cry, you’ll make me cry!” said Rosie, her eyes starting to well up, “He’ll be happy, the way he looks at you, I just know it.”

“I’m not sure.” you said, stealing yourself slightly as you dabbed away your tears with your sleeve, “He already has two children, he might be done.”

Just as Rosie was about to say something the door opened.

“Oh hi Rosie, is everything okay?” said a worried-looking Toto, looking from you to Rosie and back again, clearly clocking the fact that you were both crying.

“Yes yes,” she said, wiping away her own tears, ���I just had some bad news and needed a shoulder to cry on.”

Toto’s face dropped, he was as fond of Rosie as you were, “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, it’s okay, Y/N helped me out. Thank you though, you two are the best,” Rosie said, dutifully lying on your behalf. She was selling her story and if you weren’t so fraught with worry and in tears, you’d be impressed by her acting abilities.

“If you’re sure,” said Toto, still looking at you both suspiciously.

“Yep, I had better get going. I’ll see you later,” she said, getting up and squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“See you, Rosie. Let me know if I can help with anything else” you said quietly, not trusting your ability to hold back more tears. It was a flaw of yours that once you started crying you always found it hard to keep it together.

“Will do,” she said, closing the door behind her.

“Is she okay?” asked Toto, sitting down beside you, before adding “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, all good, we sorted it. Just girl stuff, don’t worry,” you said, smiling weakly, leaning on his shoulder and sighing.

“Did George do something? Do I need to have a word?” he asked.

“No, no nothing like that!” you said, not wanting to raise further suspicion, “Rosie said she’d speak to him.

“Well I hope everything is okay with them,” said Toto stoically.

“Yeah, just young love!” you said, snuggling closer, lost in your thoughts.

– – – 

The morning passed without further incident, thankfully Rosie’s larger uniform set fitting perfectly as you once again navigated the paddock during the Free Practice sessions. In an interesting turn of events, Christian Horner’s PA had requested to set up a meeting that afternoon between the two warring Team Principals and you were intrigued why.

“Why would he want to meet with you one-on-one?” you asked Toto as you sat in his office post-Free Practice Two.

“I’m not sure and I don’t like there not being a lawyer,” said Toto, crossing his arms opposite you.

“Are you going to go?” you asked.

“I will see what he has to say,” said Toto, frowning.

“Hmm, if it gets contentious just leave,” you said, half concerned, half curious.

“Of course.” said Toto, leaning across the desk towards you, “I’m so tired of this bullshit Y/N.”

Surprised by Toto’s admission, you retorted, “Are you talking to me as your Director of Communications or as your girlfriend?”

“Both.” said the weary Austrian, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I love the racing but the rest, it’s like being in Kindergarten.”

Your eyes sympathetic, you leaned forward, “You’ll feel better after the break.”

“I hope so.” he said, “I’m excited for you to meet my family”

“This is definitely girlfriend territory,” you said with a grin, “And I am too, I hope they like me.”

“They will love you,” said Toto, smiling widely, “Just like I do.”

Melting under his chocolate brown gaze, you smiled back. Although you always promised each other to keep your work and personal lives separate, stolen moments like this were special.

“Well, I suppose I had better go and see what he has to say,” said Toto with a sigh, getting up from his chair.

Following suit, you made your way out of Toto’s office to return to your own, wishing Toto luck as he made his way down the stairs towards his rival’s hospitality area. “Good luck, let me know what he says,” you said.

“Will do, see you later,” Toto replied, clearly a little apprehensive about his meeting.

– – – 

Having been on tenterhooks waiting for Toto to return from his meeting you were increasingly anxious as the twenty-minute meeting dragged on for an hour, and then another. You had almost given up waiting and returned to the hotel when your phone buzzed.

Sorry we took a while, could you please come and join us? X

Surprised that Toto was inviting you to join, you hurriedly typed a reply and made your way towards your paddock neighbours.

Entering the Red Bull hospitality area you could feel the unfriendly looks directed towards you, you were in enemy territory and they made sure you knew it. Approaching the coffee station, you hedged your bets that their catering staff might be somewhat friendly.

“Hi,” you said with a smile at the girl behind the counter.

“Oh hi, can I help you?” she said, a funny look on her face.

“Yes, I’m here to meet Christian Horner, where might I find him?” you asked, trying to stay polite.

She frowned, “But you’re from Mercedes, no?”

“Yes, he’s asked to see us, he’s currently in a meeting with my boyf… colleague and asked for me to join.” You couldn’t believe the timing of your slip-up, so much for not mixing business and pleasure.

“Oh, so you’re the one Toto Wolff is sleeping with!” she exclaimed rudely. “He’s just upstairs, first door on the right.”

Ruffled by her words, you decided to not dignify her with a response and made a beeline for the stairs before anybody else could add their witty remarks.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the first door on the right, apprehensive about what you were walking into.

“Come in.” said a voice you recognised as Christian Horner.

Opening the door, you were surprised to see the two sworn enemies sitting opposite one another in armchairs, beers on the coffee table in front of them.

“Y/N, thank you for joining us, have a seat!” said Christian, standing up to greet you with a warm smile and a handshake before gesturing at the armchair beside Toto, “Can I get you a beer?”

“That’s okay, thank you,” you said, eyeing up Toto curiously. “Hey boss.”

“Hi,” he said somewhat awkwardly.

“You two lovebirds get a room…” said Christian, chuckling as he settled back down across from you, before noticing your thunderous glare and quickly adding, “Relax, I’m kidding.”

“So what do I owe this pleasure?” you asked.

Christian shifted slightly, “So I have been telling Toto all of this but wanted to talk to you as well. I wanted to apologise for the pain my subordinate has caused you, it’s not okay and I know that I like to rile up Toto every now and then but this season I took it too far, made it too personal and wanted to say sorry to you both.”

Your eyes widened, this is certainly not what you had expected. Christian Horner apologising was like hell freezing over. “Wow, well there’s a lot to unpack there,” you said.

“I know, that’s why we have the beers.” said Christian, “Firstly, I want you to know that I have sacked the member of staff who worked with Toto’s EA on the smear campaign. I am ashamed that someone under my leadership would sink so low and rest assured we will support you in any investigation or impending court case.”

Stunned into silence, you turned to Toto, “Is this true?”

“Yes,” he replied, “We’ve been discussing the finer details but I believe Christian when he says he didn’t know what was going on.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Christian continued, “Look, our car coupled with Max is good. We don’t need to resort to dirty tricks to make you guys look bad. We can do it on track.”

“There’s the Christian we know and love,” you said with a smile, making the two men chuckle.

“I have given Toto the member of staff in question’s laptop and phone plus passwords to aid any investigation.” he replied proudly, “I also want to say sorry for my behaviour at last week's press conference. I had no idea someone from my team was perpetuating rumours and I was just messing around. I know you both know about my relationship with Gina and I lashed out after Toto threatened me.”

“Apology accepted,” interjected Toto.

You were in shock. “Really?” you asked, whipping your head around towards your beau.

“Yes, life’s too short.” said Toto, “We have a plan. And this is why I wanted you here.”

“I’m all ears,” you said.

“We know this will not stay quiet, you of all people know what the paddock is like. So we were thinking the best approach is to make a joint statement.” started Christian.

“Saying what?” you interjected sharply.

“Detailing everything that happened, it’s a juicy story, the press will love it,” he replied.

“And you agreed to this?” you asked Toto.

“I’d rather people know the truth,” he said with a sigh.

“What do you need me for then?” you asked.

“Toto said you’d know how to handle this,” said Christian expectantly.

“Well, this is not how I’d go about this but if it’s what you want to do, let’s go for it,” you said.

“What would you do?” asked Toto.

“Let it blow over, forget it ever happened, this clears Christian’s name more than it does yours,” you said.

“Yes, but I also want to rise above it, and put an end to this silly rivalry,” said Toto.

“Then let’s do it,” you said, with a smile.

– – – 

Having spent far more time than intended in the Red Bull motorhome, you emerged in the paddock under the cloak of darkness. Probably for the best as the moment team rivals were seen liaising, the rumour mill always went whirring.

“That was interesting,” you said to Toto, diving next door to collect your bags.

“I was surprised.” mused Toto, holding the door open for you.

“I think he was scared you might retaliate,” you said as you made your way up the stairs to your office.

“I agree,” said Toto, following you into your office.

“Do you not need to get your stuff?” you asked.

“Yes, but first I wanted to do this,” he said, taking a step forward to cup your face with his large hands and catch your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss.

“Toto,” you started before he promptly followed up with a second, equally searing kiss.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Toto said, shifting his weight nervously.

“What’s wrong Toto?” you said, concerned by what he was about to say.

“Nothing is wrong. I just need to get this off my chest. Look, I’m old, and before you say anything, yes I am. I am too old to be running around the world like this.”

“I’m not sure I like where this is going…” you said.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I’ve achieved everything I ever dreamed of… and more… and it’s time for someone else’s turn. One more year and I’d like to retire, stay as an investor, maybe even an advisor, but less hands-on.”

You were stunned, “So one more year, then retirement?”

“I understand if it means you don’t want to tie yourself down to an old man,” Toto said sadly.

“What planet are you on?” you said, looking him dead in the eyes, “Of course I want to be with you, whatever you do.”

Toto’s eyes lit up, “That makes me very happy. I have thought a lot about this and maybe it’s a good thing, if you wanted… actually, never mind.”

“What would I want?” you asked, curious where this was going.

All of a sudden Toto began to blush. “Forget it, we can talk again when we get there.”

“Okay,” you said, rolling your eyes. Sometimes Toto could be infuriating.

SATURDAY AM

You woke up early on Saturday morning, once again before Toto. Stretching, you made your way out to the balcony to get some fresh air. Thankfully the waves of nausea had seemingly stopped and you were feeling much better. You knew you had to tell Toto sooner rather than later but were not sure how to even broach the subject.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a phone ringing from inside the room and you dashed to pick it up before Toto woke up. 

Seeing the caller ID, you picked up, keeping your voice low, “Hey Rosie, how’s it going?”

“I’m okay thanks, just wanted to check in on you. Did you manage to speak to Toto?” she asked.

Checking he was still sound asleep, you settled on the sofa in the sitting area of the room, “No, not yet, I think it’s best to wait until Monday, once the season is done and dusted. He doesn’t need any more stress.”

“Yeah you’re right.” said Rosie, “As long as you are okay though. Have you thought any more about what you want to do?”

You sighed, “As amazing as it would be, realistically, travelling around the world in such a demanding job with a baby is totally unrealistic.”

“True.” replied Rosie, “But what would Toto say?”

“Of course he’s a stand-up guy but he’s busy with the races, do you really think he’ll want to be dealing with a newborn baby on race weekends?” you replied, looking up to see a shocked-looking Toto sat up in bed. “Is it okay if I call you back Rosie?”

“Sure, and don’t stress!” she said.

As you gingerly ended the call you could barely look Toto in the eye, “How much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Enough to understand.” he said, a serious look on his face, “What is she going to do?”

“What do you mean she?” you asked.

“Rosie, she’s pregnant, no?” he said, getting up out of bed to join you on the sofa.

“Fuck.” you said, “I didn’t want you to find out this way but it’s not Rosie, it’s me. I’m pregnant Toto.”

The blood drained out of Toto’s face as he computed what you had just told him. “With me?”

“No, with Christian. What do you think?” you said, looking at him exasperatedly, “It was that one time in France, we weren’t careful and work got so busy, I never got the pill. I’m so sorry Toto.” 

Toto rubbed his hands through his hair in exasperation as he processed the news, “This is a lot.”

“I know, that's why I was waiting to tell you until after this weekend,” you said, putting your arm around his wide shoulders. “I know it's a lot to take in, If you want we can talk about it on Monday, what we’re going to do.”

“Well, what do you want?” asked Toto, still looking shaken.

“I don’t know honestly. I love you but this is so new. I hope one day to have children but I’m not sure. How would we juggle this with a baby?“ you said with a sigh.

Toto suddenly looked more animated, “You want to have children?”

You sighed, staring into your lap, “Yes Toto, and I know we’ve never talked about it. I’ve been too scared. I know you already have been there, done that and probably don’t want to do it again.”

Toto stared at you intensely before answering, “What would make you think that? I love my children and I always regretted not having more.”

Your mouth gaped open, was he really saying he wanted more children? “But what about us? This is new, is it not too soon?”

“Y/N, we’ve known each other for some time now. Yes we haven’t been romantically involved for a long time but I know you well enough to know how much I admire you as a woman, as a human.” said Toto, suddenly taking your hand in his, “I don’t want to rush you as I know you have your career but one day I would like to have children with you.”

“I feel the same way, Toto,” you said firmly, turning to face him, “Are we seriously doing this?”

Toto’s eyes lit up, “Only if you want to?”

“Of course I want to!” you said, grinning.

“Then let’s do this.” said Toto, looking happier than he had done in months before he turned to you and planted a kiss squarely on your lips before reaching out to rest his palm on your stomach, “I can’t believe it, we’re going to have a baby.”

“The one time we weren’t careful!” you said with a dry smile, placing your hand on Toto’s. Although it wasn’t ideal timing, you did feel lucky.

“Well, I am efficient in all my work,” said Toto with a dry grin.

You playfully slapped his chest, “You are such a nerd.”

“And now you’re carrying my child.” said Toto smugly, “You love nerds.”

“I do love nerds.” you said, “Big, old, Austrian nerds.”

“Not too old!” said Toto, still looking pleased with himself. “You’ve made me the happiest man in all of Abu Dhabi.”

Unable to stop smiling, you looked at him fondly, “You’ve made me happy too. I know we have a lot to talk about and work out but let’s just enjoy this weekend and we can figure things out on Monday?”

“We can talk now, we have some time.” said Toto, a serious air suddenly about him, “Logically, it makes sense for you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widened, “You want me to move in with you?”

“Of course,” said Toto, “If we are doing this, we’re doing it properly.”

You smiled, reaching up to kiss his cheek, “Let’s do it then.”

“I know this is the future but do you remember what I told you last night?” asked Toto.

“That you want to retire after next year?” you asked, unsure of where he was going with this.

“Yes,” he said, “I was going to suggest that if children were in our future, I could be a stay-at-home Dad if you wanted to return to work. I’ve had my time, it’s time for yours.” he looked down before adding shyly,  “Only if you want of course.”

Shocked by this admission, you took a moment to find the words, “You’d already thought about kids?”

“Do you remember when Bono brought his children into the garage back in Silverstone?” Toto asked.

“Yes, why?” you said.

“I saw how you were with them and thought you’d make an excellent mother. Then my mind wandered, and I started to think about what if we had children together.” Toto looked slightly embarrassed by his admission.

“That’s what you were going to say? Jesus Toto. I thought you were going to break up with me.” you said, having been confused by his tone the previous night.

“No, quite the opposite actually,” he said, his cheeks reddening. “Maybe this is a sign.”

You looked at him puzzled, “A sign for what?”

“Let’s wait and see,” he said with a wink, 

SATURDAY PM

Now at the trackside motorhome, nervously watching the last quali of the season you took a moment to reflect on the conversation you’d had with Toto that morning. You’d been reticent to tell him your news but now that it was out in the open you felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You never could have dreamt how well Toto took the news and the fact that he had been considering the prospect of a future with you filled you with good vibes.

A knock on your office door interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Come in,” you called out before the door opened to reveal Rosie.

“Hey Y/N, is now a good time?” she asked, pausing in the doorframe.

“Of course,” you said, smiling widely. You hadn’t had time to catch up with Rosie since telling Toto and you were once again glad you had a confident.

Closing the door behind her, Rosie took a seat on the small sofa across from your desk. “Was everything okay this morning?”

“Yes,” you said, “But Toto overheard our conversation…”

Rosie went white. “Fuck, and what did he say?”

You chuckled, “Well first of all he thought it was you and George and threatened to come and sort George out.”

Rosie giggled nervously, “Of course he did. Did you tell him it was you?”

“Yes,” you said with a smile, “And he’s happy.”

Rosie’s face finally dropped into a wide grin, “I knew he would be! I’m so happy for you both!”

“Thank you.” you said, “Obviously we’re keeping it quiet for now as it is still early days.”

“Of course.” she said, “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

“No,” you said, “We can find out at the next scan or we can have a surprise.”

“Ooh.” she said, “What are you thinking?”

“Not sure yet, I kind of like the idea of a surprise,” you said with a small grin. “Toto already has one of each so either way we’ll be happy.”

“Aw this baby is going to be beautiful.” said Rosie, “I’m so excited.”

“Well I hope they get Toto’s height.” you said, “Especially if he’s a little boy!”

“I think it’s a girl,” said Rosie, crossing her arms confidently.

“Do you?” you said, “I think it’s a boy.”

“Interesting.” she replied, raising her eyebrow, “I’m normally good at guessing and I just think you look more like you’re having a girl.”

“Scientific.” you said with a laugh, flicking your eyes back to the screen where you were watching quali, “We’d better get down to the garage, Q2 is getting underway.”

– – – 

Standing in the garage, headphones on, eyes locked on the small screen with a plethora of graphs and data, you glanced at Toto out of the corner of your eye. He hadn’t stopped smiling all day and quali was adding to his good mood. Lewis and George had both made it through to Q3 and Mercedes was on track for a front-row lockout as long as Max Verstappen didn’t put in a last-minute unbeatable time. 

As the clock ticked down, you dared hope that he wouldn’t, but in typical Max style, the Dutch driver managed to find almost a second where no one else could and pipped Lewis to the post for P1. Applauding your team’s efforts, you looked at Toto who was beside you, continuing to grin. Noticing you looking, he stretched an arm out towards you, scooping you towards him for a celebratory half-hug before remembering that cameras were everywhere and then doing the same to a less enthusiastic Bono.

“P2 and P3, we are on for a podium tomorrow,” he said clapping his hands together as he addressed the team, “Well done everyone and thank you. One last push.”

SUNDAY AM

Waking up bright and early, the sun flaring through the curtains you couldn’t believe it was the last race of the season. Toto’s arms were wrapped around you protectively and knowing that he had a vice-like grip while sleeping, you had no choice but to snuggle in further. As your alarm sounded you felt Toto stir, clutching you ever closer.

“Good morning,” he said groggily as he pressed a kiss to your temple before stretching his long arm across you to turn off the alarm.

“Morning,” you said, smiling at his sleep-rumpled hair.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he said, half asleep, one eye still closed.

“No reason,” you said, kissing his neck in the spot you knew he loved.

“I don’t trust you,” he said smirking, before reaching his free arm around to caress your stomach. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Me neither.” you sighed, “Not what I thought would happen when I first met you.”

Toto quirked an eyebrow, “What did you think would happen?”

“When you walked in on me changing…hmm let me think, that you were some old perv?” you replied teasingly.

Blushing slightly, Toto chuckled, “Not my finest hour admittedly. But I still managed to woo you, now look at us.”

You laughed, “Yep, irresistible charm.”

“I knew it.” replied Toto with a smile, “As soon as I saw you I thought to myself, she’s the one.”

“And all it took was a seethrough bra?” you said laughing.

“I actually thought you had lovely eyes,” said Toto, deadpan before bursting into laughter and squeezing your hip.

“Sure sure,” you said, cuddling up. “Toto?”

“Yes,” he said burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Logically speaking, what are we going to do?”

“What do you mean?” he replied, muffled against your hair.

“Realistically I am going to be out of action for a bit. It’s not ideal timing. I’ll have to stop working halfway through next season.”

“Shhh.” said Toto, rocking his hips gently into you, “We’ll plan on Monday. For now, let me enjoy this moment.”

Slightly worried at Toto’s uncharacteristic laissez-faire attitude, you shrugged, “Sure, but don’t moan at me when I’m giving birth in the paddock.”

Toto laughed, “You’re so dramatic!”

“Says you!” you laughed.

“I didn’t think about the timing.” said Toto, pausing before adding, “We will work it out. Don’t worry, trust me”

“Trusting you is what got me into this mess Mr Wolff,” you said playfully.

“It takes two to tango,” replied Toto, hugging you tighter, his large hand still palming your stomach gently, “Right, we need to get out of bed, but I don’t want to.”

“Me neither,” you said, burying yourself further under the covers.

Kissing you once more on the forehead, Toto eased to sitting up before extracting himself from the tangled mess and making his way over the background. “Team orders, get out of bed.”

Laughing, you resurfaced, “Just one of the many perks of sleeping with the boss.”

Toto peered around the door and quirked an eyebrow, “You weren’t complaining last night.”

Rolling your eyes you sat up, “Toto…”

Looking mischievous he retorted, “You know I was thinking, since it’s the last race of the season, would you like to make a bet?”

Folding your arms, you replied, “Depends what the wager is.”

“If Lewis wins, I get to name the baby.”

“So if George wins, I get to pick huh?” you asked, not sure where this was going.

“Exactly. I have some great ideas already,” said Toto, still hanging around the doorframe.

“And what might those be?” you asked.

“Paul. After Paul Ricard,” he said, hardly able to contain his giggles.

“You are such an idiot,” you said, getting up out of bed gingerly, making your way towards him.

“It makes sense, hear me out. It’s where it all started,” he said, grabbing your hip and pulling you in close.

“Absolutely not. What if she’s a girl?”

“Paula,” he said flatly before bursting out laughing. “Okay, how about this, Niki?”

Shaking your head you kissed Toto on the cheek before breaking his grip to make your way into the bathroom and get ready for the day.

SUNDAY PM

Halfway through the race disaster had struck in your rival’s camp. Red Bull had had issues undoing one of Max Verstappen’s wheels, leaving them with an abnormally long pitstop. It didn’t give Mercedes a huge edge but fortunately, he was released into grid traffic and it was enough to halt his return to the front of the grid. It was now Lap 56 of 58 and Lewis was in the lead, George not far behind.

The Mercedes garage was silent, knowing that the team had a real last-minute chance of snatching back the Constructors Championship, something that had narrowly evaded you all season. You could hardly breathe as the lap count went down. 57, 58, Max Verstappen struggling to make it back up the field. 

After what felt like an eternity, the chequered flag was being waved. Lewis was P1 and George P2. The garage erupted into cheers, Toto grabbing you suddenly and kissing you as if his life depended on it, oblivious to the hundreds of cameras trained on him.

Breaking the kiss, you could feel eyes on you. Blushing, you saw the team around you looking half horrified, half amused by the sudden public display of affection.

Leaning in to hug Bono, he had a twinkle in his eye, quipping “He better not try that with me.”

Laughing you hugged him tightly, before retorting “Oh, I’ll be having words with him later, don’t worry.”

Surrounded by your colleagues you lost track of the amount of people you hugged and kissed in celebration, all the while beaming at your increasingly animated beau. Toto was an emotional man and you could read him better than anyone else. You knew the Constructors Trophy meant the world to him and you hoped that he’d let loose later that evening.

LATER THAT EVENING

Sat at a low table, surrounded by your close colleagues you couldn’t help but laugh at your thought train earlier. Toto had proceeded to let loose and then some, crowd surfing, drenching himself and everyone around him in champagne before belting out increasingly horrendous renditions of songs he barely knew the words to. 

Smiling and glancing over to Toto lighting up the dancefloor, you sipped contently on your lemon water. It had been a truly wild ride of a year, with some serious ups and serious downs. One thing for certain was that you had fallen well and truly for the man before you.

Beside you, Rosie was looking less fondly at her other half. “What is wrong with him?” she said, gesturing across at George who was separate from the crowd and spinning around with his arms outstretched, not a care in the world.

“Aw, let him be,” said Bella, “He looks happy.”

“I suppose.” said Rosie, sighing, “I can’t believe even Toto is so far gone.”

“I can believe.” you said, laughing, “It’s been a tough year, he needed this.”

“Well it can’t have been easy for you either, I’m surprised you’re not dancing up there with him,” said Bella.

Rosie shot you a knowing glance, well aware that she was the only person besides Toto who knew the reason why you weren’t celebrating with drinks.

“Ah, no, I can’t do it in this heat,” you said, hoping she’d buy it.

“I know what you mean…” said Bella, fortunately not questioning you any further as a very drunk Lewis Hamilton came sidling up to your table.

“Y/N, come dance!” he said, holding out a hand as an invite.

“I’m not sure I’m very good!” you protested with a sigh.

“C’mon,” he said, “Toto is missing you.”

Shaking your head you eased up from the low sofa, making sure to conceal your very slight bump with a well-placed arm.

Grabbing Lewis’ hand, you followed him through the throng of merry Mercedes team members to the centre of the dancefloor.

As you bumped along to the music, allowing Lewis to spin you around, you caught Toto out of the corner of your eye. He shot you a smile before mouthing “Are you feeling okay?”

You felt a rush of affection for him as even in his inebriated state he wanted to take care of you. Mouthing back “All good,” you continued to dance with Lewis, content to bop along.

“So. Can I be Godfather?” asked Lewis, sidling up to you and whispering in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the pumping music.

Your eyes widened, he clearly wasn’t as drunk as you’d surmised, “How did you know?”

“You’re not drinking, Toto kept putting his hand on your stomach earlier and he keeps looking over to check on you every five seconds.” said Lewis, “And that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” you said. “And maybe. If you’re nice to me, and to Toto!”

Crinkling his eyes in a smile, Lewis scooped you into a bear hug, “I’m so happy for you both. This is beautiful man.”

EPILOGUE - TWO YEARS LATER

And beautiful it was. Having wrapped the eventful season your relationship with Toto had gone from strength to strength as you prepared for the birth of your baby. You’d met Toto’s family, including his children, something you had been incredibly nervous about. Fortunately, they had welcomed you with open arms and were eager to meet their new baby brother or sister. 

In turn, Toto had met your family, and although apprehensive at first due to the age gap, it hadn’t taken long for him to win them over. Although life hadn’t exactly gone as you’d planned, everything had quickly fallen into place.

Two years on from that fateful season you were living in Monaco with Toto and your toddler daughter, Sunny. The baby name debate had raged on but eventually, you’d settled on the unusual moniker, chosen as a nod to the city where you’d first met, Miami. 

Time had well and truly flown by and some days you could hardly believe it. You continued to work with the team, in your role that you now shared with Rosie, meaning that you only travelled to half the races. Toto had also taken a step back, passing over some of his Team Principal duties to Senior members of the team, allowing him to focus on the business side of things. 

As promised to the board on those fateful calls where you had to fight for your job, you’d brought on more ethical sponsors, brought more money and all-in-all improved the team for the better. Robert still continued to grumble but was always quickly silenced by numbers and statistics.

Your latest project was planning a farewell to the man who everyone knew would be going down in history as the greatest of all time. Lewis. Not an easy feat, he had fortunately entrusted you with his intent to retire before anyone else so you’d had plenty of time to plan. Over the years he had become a close friend and you wanted to do him justice. Now a nine-time WDC, Lewis was retiring to start a family of his own, something you knew he would excel at. True to your word, you and Toto had asked him to be Sunny’s Godfather, a task that he relished.

Rosie and George had also taken their relationship to the next level, getting engaged and due to marry the following year, it was heartwarming to know that another couple had found love in the paddock. Controversially, you and Toto had not yet tied the knot, purely down to the fact that you hadn’t had time. Toto had proposed not long before Sunny’s birth, getting down on one knee with one of the most dazzling diamond rings you had ever seen.

Snapping back to the present, you shook yourself out of your thoughts as you saw Toto coming into the room, Sunny under his arm babbling.

“How about at the end of August?” Toto asked.

“For what?” you asked, not sure what he was talking about.

“For the wedding,” he said, plopping down on the sofa beside you, seating Sunny on his lap.

“Mama!” the curly-haired toddler called out, stretching her tiny arms towards you. You knew you were biased but she was one of the cutest children you’d ever seen. Chocolate button eyes and dark brown curls, she was blessed with her Father’s dimples and your olive complexion, a lethal combination.

“Here mi amor,” you said, scooching her across for a snuggle, before nodding “August could work. But there is one issue”

Toto looked concerned, “What’s wrong?”

You broke into a wide smile, “I’m pregnant Toto.”

Toto’s brown eyes widened, “Again? Already?”

You laughed, Sunny giggling along with you, “Yep. Old man strikes again.”

Toto smiled, leaning across and putting his arm around you, “How did I get so lucky?”

“Papa!” said Sunny, this time reaching up for her Dad.

“Ooh, I think she wants her Daddy again.” you said, “It kills me that you’re her favourite.”

Taking the tiny girl in his arms, Toto smiled, “I don’t think so somehow.”

“I know so,” you said, looking at how your daughter gazed adoringly at Toto, their brown eyes identical. Glowing with pride at your beautiful family you patted your stomach tenderly, impatient to meet the new addition.

Sharing your thoughts, Toto beamed at you, “Do you remember the bet we made in Abu Dhabi two years ago?”

“Huh?” you said, not remembering.

“We agreed that if Lewis won the race, I could name the baby Paul or Niki,” he said with a grin, playing with the bouncing toddler on his lap.

“I do not remember this.” you said, “Was I asleep?”

“No, wide awake.” he said laughing, “Lewis won though and I want to know if I can cash my reward in on this one.”

“You are ridiculous,” you said with a fond smile, “I’ll think about it.”

“You know you love it.” he said, kissing you gently, “So maybe a Winter wedding then?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you replied, your heart full of love.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

For the kiss ask, I will exercise some self control and ask for only one, even if I want to ask for like twenty 😅

For the pairing, I'm thinking Frankie and Bonnie (which oddly enough, the last time you did a prompt ask, I requested the same pair) and #27 "Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other's lap". Please and thank you 😄

Thanks very much for the ask! Oh, Frankie and Bonnie, how I've missed them! I'm happy you decided to go with those two.

Pairing: Frankie x chubby!reader (aka Bonnie). For more of this pair, go to my Forever Starts With You masterlist.

Warnings: reader is self conscious in a swimsuit but everything is fine because Frankie is perfect, and then there's kissing.

Summary: You and Frankie go to a pool party.

Okay so that gif is not by a pool but whatever

You have no idea how Frankie got you to agree to this. This is literally your nightmare.

The sun is shining, the audio system is pumping out something upbeat, people are talking and laughing – and everyone is in swimwear, or something tiny and summery. And no one is fat, of course, no one except you.

One of Frankie’s military buddies invited the two of you to a pool party and it’s really not your scene, least of all because of your size. You fretted for weeks before the party, went to the most expensive lingerie store in town and bought a disgustingly expensive swimsuit that looks amazing on you – but you are still overweight. Your skin still turns lobster red in the sun. You spent even more money on a kaftan dress that you probably won’t wear again, and only then did Frankie realize that you were dreading the party.

”We don’t have to go,” he told you, but you shook your head.

”You want to go.”

Frankie loves the sun and summer. You don’t mind it but you burn easily and with your weight and body, everything is sweaty and slippery and uncomfortable in the summer. And to put your body on display like that.

”You don’t have to wear a swimsuit,” Frankie tried.

”Then everyone will know exactly how uncomfortable I am,” you pointed out. ”It’s a pool party, of course I have to wear a swimsuit!”

So here you are, in your expensive outfit, with sparkly sandals on your feet and a straw hat on your head, your flickering gaze hidden behind dark sunglasses.

”You look amazing,” Frankie assures you in a warm whisper at your ear. ”I’m proud as hell to have you by my side.”

His arm is around you, and you feel more confident as he kisses your cheek, before steering you to wards the host couple. You are introduced, your kaftan is admired, you’re handed drinks, you make small talk until the next guest arrives, and you can retire to the side. You wave at Benny, who’s in the pool with someone in a triangle bikini on his shoulders. She shrieks when he tosses her into the water.

”You wanna go swimming?” Frankie asks, but you shake your head.

”Absolutely not.” You sip the margarita, and make a little noise.

”Christ, this margarita is good.”

”Lemme have a taste.” Frankie’s holding a beer, but you hand him your drink, and he sips it, licking his lips as he hands it back to you.

”That thing’s deadly. Enough of those, and I’ll get you to not only come swimming with me, but also perform a whole musical, Bonnie.”

You scoff at the nickname his friends once gave you after a particularly wet night during which you performed Total Eclipse of the Heart.

”I learned my lesson that night,” you shudder. The hangover you suffered from the following day was epic and you have no wish to repeat it, ever.

You mingle, talking to people, getting another drink and some snacks. You relax as you realize what you already knew deep inside: nobody cares about your size and what you’re wearing, all everyone wants is to have a good time.

You stay later than expected, and when the sun has set and the pool area is lit up by string lights, you finally go swimming. The pool water is a little warmer than you prefer after a day of sunny weather, but that just makes it nicer to get out of the water, into the cooling night. You walk around the pool, heading for Frankie in a chaise lounge, and you smile widely when you see that he is ogling you, a new beer in hand. When you reach him, he reluctantly hands you a towel, like he doesn’t want you to cover up just yet.

”Good swim?” he asks you in a low voice that vibrates along the length of your spine. You have to lick your lips before you can answer.

”It was okay. The water was too warm.”

He makes a sympathetic grimace but says nothing more. Instead, you can see how he caresses the curves of your body with his eyes. You give him a little shove.

”Hey, stop eye-fucking me.”

”Never.”

He smirks at you, and you grin back.

”I don’t think this is the right place for that, baby.”

”Anywhere is the right place with you looking like that.”

You roll your eyes to let him know just what you think of him being so simple about a woman in a swimsuit. Frankie takes your hand and gives it a light tug.

”Come on, sit.” He pats his thighs with his other hand.

Normally, you would hesitate. Sitting on his lap, even in the privacy of your home, isn’t something you enjoy much, because of your weight. But you’ve had a great day, you’re crazy in love with him, and you’re buzzing from several margaritas over the course of the afternoon, so you yield. Sitting down, you carefully try to distribute your weight, but Frankie doesn’t care as he slips his arms around you, happily staring into your cleavage that is, conveniently enough, right in front of him.

”Perfect,” he sighs happily, and you have to giggle.

”You are such a man.”

”Totally am.” His finger traces a feathery line along your spine, making you shiver. ”And you don’t mind at all, do you?”

You have to admit that it boosts your self esteem to have him look at you like that.

”I mind that I’m sitting here all hot and pretty, and you haven’t kissed me once yet,” you tell him off, and Frankie laughs before leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

”You could have asked, querida.”

”I thought you were clever enough to understand what was expected of you,” you retort, your tongue flicking out at his lips.

”Clearly not...” His mouth closes over yours in a soft kiss before opening, moving a little, then closing again. You cup his cheek with one hand, the other losing itself in the curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie rests one hand on your wet thigh, innocent-looking enough, but his fingertips are digging a little into the soft flesh, reminding you of how he can grip you when his face is buries in the apex of your thighs. His other hand is on your lower back, making slow little circles on your wet skin as you kiss.

”Maybe it’s time we go home?” you suggest in a soft sigh against his lips. He smiles, and shakes his head.

”Not yet. I want to show you off a little longer. Okay?”

You smile back, cheeks feeling warm.

”Okay.”

[kalpanaseth]

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[beansprean]

AND THAT'S A WRAP ON WWDITS FILMING...[wails loudly]

I hope these actors know how much they have done for me, specifically. And how many times I have drawn their dumb faces dkjfhk.

Please consider donating to Medical Aid for Palestine! It's what Kayvan would want. :) 🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of Guillermo and Harvey Guillén on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Harvey!' Harvey's skin is slightly tanner than Guillermo's, his hair is sun-bleached and curling freely over his forehead, and he is wearing a blue knit crop top and denim overalls. He is hugging Guillermo from behind with his chin on his shoulder, grinning up at the viewer. Guillermo, wearing a white shirt and brown patterned cardigan, is cupping Harvey's hands with his own over his chest and looking at him with a fond smile, cheeks pressed together.

2. Waist up of Nandor and Kayvan Novak on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kayvan!' Kayvan's skin is a rich brown against Nandor's vampire pallor and his half-up hair and slightly longer beard are graying; he is wearing a dangly gold earring in his left ear and is wearing a lime green button up tee with a red watermelon pattern. He has picked Nandor up in a hug with his arms wrapped around his waist. Nandor, wearing a long brown kaftan under a orange diamond-patterned coat with short furred sleeves, has his right hand braced on Kayvan's shoulder and the other wrapped around his back. They are both grinning widely and looking at the viewer.

3. Waist up of Nadja, Nadja doll, and Natasia Demetriou on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Natasia!' Natasia is lightly tanned and has chest wavy length hair with bangs, dark brown at the roots with honey brown and blonde highlights throughout. She is wearing a periwinkle skirt and bandeau top with an outer layer of translucent chiffon in the same color, along with poofy off-shoulder chiffon sleeves, several rings, and a thin chain necklace with her name on it. Nadja and Dolly are matching in dark blue v neck gowns with a gold pattern and front buttons, their hair half up in twin horns. Nadja is grinning at the viewer, fangs out, and leaning heavily into Natasia's side, pressing their shoulders together. Dolly sits on their shared shoulder space, perched directly between their heads with her arms around them, smiling up at the viewer. Nadja's right arm is up under Dolly to support her legs. Natasia's right arm is bent upward like one might do to support a perching bird and her left is palming Dolly's knees to keep her in place. She is smiling over at the Nadjas, half bent over from their weight leaning on her.

4. Waist up of Laszlo and Matt Berry on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Matt!' Matt is pale (but clearly more alive than Laszlo), with wavy shoulder length hair streaked with gray and a graying beard that has been allowed to grow a bit further past his chin. He is wearing a plain white tee shirt, denim jacket, and silver chain necklace. Laszlo is wearing a red button up dashingly open at the collar under a dark blue waistcoat and lighter blue jacket with a darker damask pattern. They are standing mirrored, back-to-back with their arms crossed and shoulders pressed together, looking back over their shoulders at each other. Matt smiles at his character lazily while Laszlo offers him a mildly salacious smirk.

5. Waist up of Colin Robinson and Mark Proksch on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Mark!' Mark is standing facing the viewer with squared shoulders, wearing a blue and white plaid shirt with a chest pocket, only the top button undone. Were it not for the color and a slight shape change to his glasses, you wouldn't be able to tell him from his character. Colin is standing directly behind and to the right of him, wearing a brown v neck sweater over a beige collar and dull red tie. His head is tipped back and his mouth is open in a wide grin, eyes glowing bright blue behind his glasses. Mark glances at him from the corner of his eye with a slightly amused smirk.

6. Waist up of the Guide and Kristen Schaal on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kristen!' Kristen is pale in a human way with chin length curly brown hair and is wearing a loose empire waist black tank top under a translucent yellow chiffon top with a frilled neckline and elbow length balloon sleeves. The Guide is smiling open-mouthed at Kristen and wearing her usual black square cap, jacket, skirt, and gloves. They are back to back, elbows linked together to keep each other close, with Kristen leaning backward into the Guide so she stoops forward slightly. Kristen's far hand flashes a peace sign as she grins over at the Guide, tongue between her teeth. /end ID

[kessellluvr]

NSFW- Lavender - softdom!Lottie x f!reader

just lottie comforting you and showing you how much she appreciates you..

"Are you feeling better yet?" lottie asked softly as she stepped into your room - you had recently joined her to help her out with camp green pine, youve known eachother since a few months. You nodded at her question "Yeah.. alot better." you told her, rubbing your eyes and looking up at her with that soft smile that always got her melting.

"Im glad.." lottie said softly, nervously picking at her lower lip with her teeth - you could tell something was on her mind. "Whats on your mind, lot?" you aksed her, tilting your head to the side questioningly. Lottie didnt give you an answer - she went to sit next to you on the bed, her soothing hand softly caressing your cheek before she carefully pulled you in for a kiss. Your eyes widened at first - not expecting that, but you quickly regained your posture and returned the kiss while closing your eyes. You could taste strawberries on her lips - most likely from her morning smoothie. Your nosetrils filled with the scent of her sweet lavender perfume, making you feel a little dizzy.

As Lottie pulled back to get some air, she couldnt help but grin slightly. "Wow.." you murmed with a chuckle, lottie`s hand was placed on your waist and you could feel her tugging your shirt out of your pants - raising your brow slightly your gaze flew down to her hand, which was now going behind to your back to reach out and undo your bra. "You dont mind, do you?" lottie asked - you shook your head and she continued, carefully lifting your shirt over your head and tossing it aside. She went to tug off the strands of your bra, having it follow your shirt to the floor.

"Youre so beautiful." lottie murmed into your ear, her lips brushing your neck before connecting - placing a hot kiss on there and adding a few more. As her mouth was busy with your neck, her hand went to cup one of your soft, perky breasts, slowly squeezing it and a soft moan slipped through your lips, causing her to grin. Lottie pushed you back onto the bed, straddling your hips and leaning down to have your lips connect with hers once more. Her hand tugged the waistband of your sweatpants and she pulled them down.

Lottie`s finger trailed over your panties, she bit her bottom lip. "Awh.. so wet for me." she teased your before slipping her hand into your panties - her finger meeting your swollen clit as she slowly trailed soft circles around it. As lottie teased you, you couldnt help but whimper, your legs twiching slightly. Lottie was still grinning down at you, she pulled her hand out and slid down your panties to your ankles, where they met your sweatpants. Lottie kneeled between your legs and lifted them over her shoulders, taking your clit between her lips and softly sucking it while pushing a finger into your dripping wet cunt, curling it upward and hitting just the right spots - causing you to writhe and moan.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" lottie asked before continuing sucking your pulsing clit. You whimpered and moaned for her.. trying to form a sentence "Y-yes.." you managed to stutter out, you could feel her grin against your cunt and you exploded - feeling waves of pleausure crashing over you. Your legs were shaky, lottie eating you out throughout your orgasm.

After you had come down from your high, she pulled away from you - smirking as she brought her fingers to your lips. "Open up." she demanded - you complied, letting her fingers push into your mouth, making you taste your own cum. She grinned widely "Good girl." lottie praised before pulling them out and standing back up, straightening out her blue kaftan and walking towards the door. "Ill see you later tonight.. after our ritual."

--

Authors Note: i trieddd!! its my first fic in like three years and im non-english so dont mind some typos.. anyway hope u enjoyed x

[mx-lamour]

Costuming Strahd: Art Addendum

I didn't include any mention of the official Dungeons & Dragons art for Strahd von Zarovich in my previous post, because I had dismissed it outright. There, I said it.

I shall strive to amend my folly in this addendum.

Let's start with that 5e cover:

I generally approve of this representation. No doubt it colored my concept of Strahd's silhouette, since this is the first image of Strahd I came into contact with, some two or three years ago.

The shape of this garb is much like what I was aiming for in my previous post. Strahd is sporting a crisp shirt with stiffened, buttoned cuffs, much like our modern button-downs or blouses spanning back into the mid-1800s. His torso is trim in a fitted vest with standing collar, which easily fits into the category of fantasy-Renaissance. Speculation on from where/when exactly the inspiration comes might be a futile effort; it would find itself at home among the elves in The Lord of the Rings, and I'm not about to dig into that concept work just now.

Actually, what his vest reminds me of most is 15th century brigandine [or tabard (see below), which would cover brigandine or a breastplate, which is why] it's the right length, if nothing else.

Reconstructing History, He's literally Elrond, and some brigandine

I believe I said it's easy to fake good pants, especially when sitting down. This example reinforces my point. His legs are indeed covered, and the result is not garish. Not particularly exciting, but nonetheless successful. You could probably even call them hose if you really wanted to.

His boots are literal extant riding boots, from "early 20th c." England, and honestly I'm so proud of this one-to-one reference.

[Fig. 1] and [Fig. 2], although my first thought had been Victorian cycling boots.

The cape draped around his shoulders appears to be quite thin and probably only falls to about his fingertips, since it doesn't drape over the chair cushion and he's not sitting on it. It could look like some kind of military cape. Or maybe even, to drag him back a few centuries again, something Elizabethan.

I'll do a whole thing on capes later.

Moving on...

Early Strahd von Zarovich was definitely Dracula by another name, but later art has been pretty consistently (from what I can see) this other red/blue outfit, with baffling ruby clasps instead of a single pendant around his neck.

That last one has me. To be fair, it's the only one gazing back at the observer... >.>

Look. This garb is sexy. It cannot be understated. While it's not what I'm going for in my own costume foray, this is a fantastic design. Here's why:

The line where blue meets red along his ribcage accentuates his chest. That same red draws the eye down over his crotch, subtly curving to accomodate his thighs. Those chains on his cloak and the sash around his waist are positively drippy, like the source of the Ivlis pouring down to the Tser Pool. The asymmetry of that and his mismatched shoulders gives him such a dynamic slant, something to visually climb back up like handholds on the face of a cliff. And the sash is supple, in direct contrast to his armored hips, solid and stalwart. His limbs are clad in slim nondescript brown, making it all the easier to focus in on his center, in high contrast dotted with solid rubies. The red and blue both, especially together, are blood colors, indicative of veins hidden beneath the skin.

He might be covered from toe to jaw, but this is an intimate costume.

Despite my appreciation for it, though, again, I personally am trying to make something a little less Lord of the Rings. For reasons.

So, let's see what I can come up with in terms of historical inspiration... if anything, lol.

This is going to be fairly stream-of-consciousness. (Not that it wasn't already, I suppose.)

The first thing that came to mind was a kaftan (or zupan?), because they can be fitted through the torso and feature a standing collar and embellished closures up the front. But, kaftans from Russia, the Ottoman Empire, and other areas touched by those cultures usually also have sleeves. I finally found the two illustrations below without sleeves, but they were difficult to track down and I'm not sure how much of what they depict is imaginary. (Although the sword, pouch, and helmet from the first one are definitely from an extant burial site.)

There's also the Polish kontusz, where the arms can be worn out of the sleeves, with the sleeves flipped back, and that can give the illusion of sleevelessness... A lot of examples I found of this particular garment are also open to the waist, which is delightfully provocative, but doesn't resemble the Strahd ensemble.

Examples from Chernigov (Ukraine) and apparently Moldova; a Polish kontusz

I can think of little source material for that long, pointed fantasy hemline, but allow me to grasp at some straws.

The straws in question.

Actually, this brings up a really good point of inquiry. Where does this drapery-between-the-legs situation that modern fantasy seems to be so enamoured with come from?

Tabards would seem the obious answer, but even that, in modern parlance, is used as an umbrella term for a wide range of garments that may or may not have any true basis in reality.

There's also just... loin cloths, I suppose, which can look like a piece of fabric just draped over the crotch and hanging between the legs, but there's usually more to it than that.

At last, after some digging around, I came across the video below. Bless Shad for his contribution to society.

It goes over all the the differences between those various styles of garment usually bearing symbols of allegiance all lumped together as "tabards", and presented me one more vocabulary word with which I was not yet familiar: the scapular.

Alas, monastic garb is my blind spot. Silly that I've played at least five clerics so far.

To summarize, I think the that the shape of the lower part of Strahd's... whatever-it-is... is inspired by a mix of these garments described in the video. It's short like a tabard should be, and has that dip between the legs reminiscent of a scapular.

But, ultimately, this thing is a waistcoat. Not a waistcoat in the Victorian sense; a waistcoat in the mid-18th century sense.

Monk wearing a scapular, and some fancy waistcoats.

Finally, the very-high standing collar on Strahd's waistcoat smacks of a couple things: Russia (again), or the Regency era. Although, in the Regency years, waistcoats became much shorter (ending at the waist) and lengthened up the other way with high standing collars. But, if you were to combine the two waistcoats above and throw in some suggestive high-hip cutouts like a 1980's leotard, you might come out with something that resembles what Strahd is wearing in all that sumtuous art.

The one with the sash really drives the comparison home.

With the initial kaftan comparison and this guy with the funny hair (a Count Vasili, coincidentally) above, Strahd von Zarovich's red/blue fantasy garb is also giving the Motherland, and folks, I already said that I was trying to keep blatant Russia out of Barovia (as much as that garb clearly slaps). But I also recently remembered due to this post that I am a total sucker for Russian pet names, so... who knows.

In the end... do I know what I'm doing? Absolutely not. I'm not sure which of these elements will filter into further consideration for my own Strahd von Zarovich costume, but I'm definitely glad I gave all this a look. Absolutely worth it. Learned a lot. ♡

[whatifmommylovedyou]

Post-crash dom lottie?

I'm not sure what you mean by "post-crash", nonnie, so I am writing our favorite cult leader on her compound.

She doesn't have to shove you to your knees.

She doesn't have to do anything but look at you and nod, as soon as you walk into her office, and you're already stepping into the middle of her carpet and dropping to your knees.

She smiles at you - it's a lovely smile, her eyes crinkling up around the edges, and your stomach is clenching up, your knees weak. When you look down, the heliotrope of your pants is bright against the sandy rug. You look up at her through your eyelashes as she comes around her desk, then dart your eyes down.

"I heard from Marcus that you had a breakthrough in therapy today," she says, in her calm, even voice. It makes your heart beat that much harder, and your eyes are prickling. "Do you want to talk about it?"

You don't, actually. You don't want to talk about anything when you're on your knees like this, you want to stay on your knees with your hands behind your back, enjoying the quiet in your head.

But when you glance up at her, she's looking at you expectantly. What are you supposed to do, except start talking?

So you tell her. You tell her about the therapeutic breakthrough, about how it made you feel, about how you feel about it now. She's leaning against her desk as you talk, asking the occasional question that you do your best to answer.

Your mouth is dry, your palms are sweaty, and you want… you want so badly your head is spinning.

"You did a good job," she says, when the tick of her office clock get so loud you think it might swallow you whole. It throbs in time with your heartbeat in your temples.

"Thank you," you say to your knees, and then her leg is extending into your view, the toes of one sandaled foot nudging against your knee.

"Thank you, who?" Her voice is so kind. She's always so kind, even when you want her not to be.

"Thank you… mistress," you mumble, and then there's a hand on the back of your head, gently pressing you forward.

You rest your cheek against her thigh, and the smooth cotton of her kaftan is cool against your cheek. "Very good," she says, and you feel the last of the tension finally leaving your jaw, your shoulders.

"Thank you, mistress," you whisper.

[multifandomfix]

Catch A Glimpse — Birdie Jay

Summary: Birdie unintentionally flusters you while she changes and she decides to play it up a bit.

Word Count: 1,224

Warnings: Suggestive, sexually charged, nudity, lots of teasing

You’d just arrived at the island, the glittering coastline still fresh in your mind as you stepped into your designated room at Miles Bron’s opulent getaway. The tension of the journey seemed to melt away as soon as you saw the comfort of your surroundings, the plush bed, the golden hues bouncing off the walls, the hum of soft music in the distance. But any hint of relaxation was shattered when Birdie Jay bounced into your space, bag in hand, without so much as a knock.

"Oh my God, can you believe this place," she exclaimed, twirling around the room, already peeling off her colorful kaftan like she owned every corner of the island.

You stood awkwardly, trying to give her space, but your eyes drifted to her despite yourself. Birdie was magnetic, in every sense of the word. Always too much and yet somehow, not enough. She flung her kaftan onto the bed without missing a beat, leaving her completely bared to you.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could even stop yourself. Your face burned, and you quickly turned away, eyes fixed on the floor. "I—sorry, I didn’t—"

Birdie laughed, that bright, carefree sound filling the room. "Oh, don’t be so shy. You can look if you want, I don’t mind."

You blinked, unsure whether to take that as flirting or just another moment of Birdie’s notorious carelessness. You never knew with her. Her boundaries seemed to shift on a whim, so predicting anything about her was near impossible. "No, I just didn’t know you didn’t have anything on under there," you stammered.

"Darling, please." Birdie rolled her eyes in that exaggerated way she always did, like everything was just one big joke. She pulled out a bikini from her bag, the flash of bright color, and very little material catching your eye, even though you were desperately trying to avert your gaze.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on anything else —the pattern on the rug, the painting on the wall— anything but her. Yet, your gaze flickered back to Birdie, just for a split second. And she caught you. Of course, she did.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. "What, you like the view?" she teased, bending over slowly as she slipped the bikini bottoms on. She made as if she were stretching, but you knew better.

Heat rose to your cheeks again, and you immediately averted your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "Birdie…"

"Mhm," she hummed, clearly enjoying how flustered you’d become. "I knew you couldn’t resist." She straightened up, her tone suddenly more playful than teasing.

It was hard to tell if she was just toying with you. She had that way about her, making you question her intention. Was she serious? Did she mean it? Or was this just her being Birdie, loving the attention, thriving off the confusion she could stir up in you with a single sentence?

You heard her footsteps behind you, soft and deliberate, and you felt her presence before you saw her reflection in the mirror. Your body tensed. Her fingers brushed over your shoulders before she gently covered your eyes, blocking out your view completely. You could hear her breathing, feel the warmth of her breath against your neck.

"Don’t worry, I’ll help you out," she whispered, her lips barely an inch away from your ear. Her voice had gone low, sultry even, sending a shiver down your spine. "You just gotta tie me up first," she said next, this time with her usual chipperness.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you fought the urge to turn around, to meet her gaze, to confront whatever this was. Was she really flirting? Or was this some kind of game?

"Birdie…" you managed to say, before your voice caught in your throat.

"I mean the bathing suit, silly," she said, uncovering your eyes and turning around so you could tie the top in place.

For a moment, you didn’t dare move, unsure of what would happen next. Maybe she was going to leave it at that. This had all been a harmless tease, a playful moment, nothing more. So you did as she asked and tied the suit, being sure to double knot it so there’d be no unintentional slip ups.

But when you’d finished, she turned back to you, leaning closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "You’ve always been cute when you’re nervous."

Your breath hitched, and your mind raced. Wait, was she really serious this whole time? The air between you had shifted, it felt different, heavier. Gone was the playful Birdie you’d always thought you’d known. This was a different side of her, and it was kind of exhilarating.

You turned your head enough to catch her gaze. She was so close. Too close to be playing around anymore. Her eyes were half lidded, lips curved in a smirk that said she knew exactly what she was doing. And that made it all the more dangerous and enticing.

"Is this a joke," you asked softly, needing to know for sure. After all, Birdie had a habit of blurring lines, of keeping everyone guessing.

She still smiled, but it had softened, it felt more intimate, more real. "Does it feel like a joke?"

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. "I don’t know what this feels like."

Birdie tilted her head, studying your face as if weighing her next move. Then, with surprising tenderness, she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Well, I guess we’ll have to figure that out, won’t we?"

The room felt warmer suddenly, or maybe it was just you, standing there, caught in this moment that felt like the start of something you hadn’t been prepared for. You’d always admired Birdie from a distance, with her chaotic energy and her lack of inhibitions, but this was definitely different. This was Birdie in your space, in your world, inviting you into hers in a way that felt far too intimate for comfort.

"Birdie, what do you want," you asked.

Her smile widened, but there was something almost genuine in her eyes now. "I want you. But…" she hesitated, the playfulness dropping just for a moment, "we don’t have to tell anyone. Not yet."

"Not yet," you echoed, your heart pounding.

She shrugged, her smile back in place, though now there was a flicker of something more vulnerable in her gaze. "They don’t need to know everything, do they?"

You didn’t know how to respond. But Birdie didn’t wait for an answer. She took your hand, gently pulling you toward her. "We’ll just keep this between us," she told you, her lips brushing against yours, soft and lingering, sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins.

The kiss may not have been all that long, but it left you breathless and your mind spinning. When she pulled back, her eyes were alight with excitement, as if she’d just discovered something new, something thrilling.

"So, what do you say," she asked, her grin as dazzling as ever. "Are you in?"

You didn’t need to think. You nodded, still reeling from the kiss, still trying to process everything that had just happened.

"Good," Birdie whispered, giving your hand a squeeze. "Now, remember, our little secret."

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Birdie Jay: @hotshot624, @lady-darkswan3