#or less intimidating for me at least
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pileofpawns · 5 months ago
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I genuinely have no idea of any of my followers are into Smiling Friends anymore but uh. I was hyperfixated on it this summer and started writing a fanfic for it that I think had some good potential, but my interest in the show fizzled out after a while, and I have no interest in finishing said fic now. Should I post what I wrote and leave a disclaimer that it’s abandoned? I hate to leave people on a sort-of-cliffhanger that will never get resolved lmao. The fic’s mostly slice of life silliness (and some angst, ig? i’m bad with genres sorry) surrounding Charlie going to cardiologist and Pim trying so hard to not go into a bad mental spiral every time he makes (or thinks he makes) a slight social misstep. Pretty much nothing really Happens in what I have written; it’s mostly setup. I know in the end it wouldn’t be horrible for me to share what I have, but part of me hates the idea so uh. any opinions are appreciated wjdhjshd.
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wickjump · 5 months ago
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im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it
seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.
so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!
i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….
#if u have the ability to reply to my reblog saying how much you loved the fic i recommended comment on the fic itself so the author can see!#especially since the rise of ai writing and seeing ai fics out there can be disheartening#make sure you let your writers know you appreciate them#you never know they might one day write a sequel bc your comment touched them#or might get the motivation to make more works.#(​but don’t just comment bc you expect something out of it btw. sometimes the author might be too intimidated to reply ive seen that before)#im a huge yapper. if you can’t tell. lmfao.#and i mostly comment on guest. like 99% of the time because the fics are either really embarrassing#or i get nervous about them knowing me/finding my tumblr and thinking im cringw#bc i admire authors so much. and I get that nervousness! given I experience it!!! but guest mode EXISTS!!! most work allows you to comment#on guest mode!! the author CANT see the email you use for it!!! the only reason they even ask is to give you notifs if theres a reply to it!#a comment is still a comment even if on guest or an alt or your main#even if the fic is embarrassing shameful depraved smut you can log out and comment on guest. even if it’s embarrassing#because the author still worked HARD. it’s so hard to write. people don’t give enough credit to fic authors who do it for free#i had an account (now super abandoned) that had over 400k words. and that didn’t include wips#i reallg do struggle to write because i took a break for so long!!! i can write but not nearly as much as I used to!!! and it sucks!!!#support your authors guys. 1k words is an hour for the first draft at MINIMUM and another hour for revision and editing. and people get#pissy if a fic chapter is less than 3-4k words for some reason. that’s 6-8 hours of work at MINIMUM. likely so much more because there’s#also plotting and brainstorming and So. Much. Editing. stressing out over words and sentence structure. it takes so much time out of your#day. the only oneshot i have posted on this account is 2460 words. and it took me SEVEN HOURS#seven hours!!!! that’s a lot!!!! and for authors that have school or demanding jobs that kind of time is hard to come by!!!!!#and I hope i have convinced at least one of you to listen and go okay you know what. i will. because even if it’s a silly comment it’s loved#tldr support your local fanfic authors of you will be so stabbed. by me#fanfiction#fanfic#archive of our own#ao3#comment on fics#wick fic recs#that’s the rec tag btw. wow custom tags AGAIN i know. im doing what i thought i never would
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spurgie-cousin · 3 months ago
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trying to figure out a shorter mid-week video to do, and I'm so lost in the fundie sauce I'm not sure if a Rodrigues family "crash course", ie shorter videos giving some background on the family, Jill's early youtube days, etc would be redundant or something people would be into. so surprise, here's another poll:
*know not more 😑
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lightningbig · 2 months ago
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desire to yap about my wip vs the fear that i'll stop writing it the second i talk about it. fight
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iamnotlookingidonotseeit · 3 months ago
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fascinating revelations out of my dad's professional coaching of the whole family today
my mom scored astonishingly high on empathy and caring for a woman who seemed to find it next to impossible to express that to me
my dad has done an insane amount of work to be so warm and personable considering that his natural inclination is towards strong reserve rooted in anxiety (just like me!!)
my sister shocked - SHOCKED 🙄 - to learn that she scores almost zero in empathy AND very high on manipulation
actually shocking reveal that my sister always knew she was my mom's favorite. like I kind of assumed she was mean to both of us but apparently most of the biting comments were for me
#in regard to number 3 I'm like bestie. you think you're the protagonist of the world. you tried to get me to come out to our parents#as a way to manipulate them into being happier for you for your engagement#you have a movie script in mind for your life and you try to get others to fit it#of COURSE you're low in empathy and high in manipulation#the mom's favorite thing was actually very surprising to me to hear bc i've never thought about it that way#mom's attitude towards me was so pervasive to my experience of childhood that i never considered that i had it worse than her#vis a vis getting chewed out and in trouble and snapped at and criticized constantly#the impression i got was that mom thought i was a crybaby and fragile and forgetful and dowdy and needy#my sister by contrast was the kind of girlboss my mom could like more easily#(i do wonder then that mom's bestie is a lot like me)#i know my sister got some Mom Comments and impatience and fighting too but it doesn't seem to have stuck with her so much#i dunno how i feel about it all#a lot and i mean A Lot to consider#also learned my sister doesn't really remember our grandma on mom's side and picked up a vibe that she's sad about it#i was a little dismissive in the moment of the idea that she was doting bc i remember her being very brisk and exacting#but i think like my mom she cared a lot but found it hard to express it in ways that weren't like. providing. keeping things shipshape#not very demonstrative and pretty intimidating to a kid#but i still do remember a few good things about her; note to self to tell T those stories#looking at cardinals on the deck. the roofing project. her painting my sister's nails. watching lion king and the old cinderella with us#good moments#it makes me think of the way mom used to really put care into giving us thoughtful gifts but she'd hardly ever play with them with us#i think it would have gone a long way with me at that age if she'd been willing to take the initiative rather than wait to be invited#i always thought that she knew so much and what she could do was so cool; i just never felt comfortable asking#bc she didn't seem like you could just ask her to come have fun#meanwhile my dad Knew a lot less stuff and had fewer cool hobbies but he was goofy and fun and willing to get on the floor#i think i understand why they were the way they were but still im frustrated#bc like t was saying today. now that mom's retired she's actually fun?? she's not stressed and angry all the time and she has time for us?#or at least for my sister anyway... but i will agree; she seems a lot happier#and i wish she'd been able to be happier when we were younger#neither me nor my sister came out of that with anything close to secure attachment
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4lbon · 1 year ago
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ok so um. actual fic plans: rly wanna finish on finishing fics that already have a good chunk written--girl!alex/lando, girl!liam/logan, and model!logan/driver!alex.
then i'll be in a better place to jump into any of my various longer projects, including maybe start storyboarding slow burn sargewood? ofc i ALWAYS work on what my heart wants but this is the priority list otherwise.
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thingswhatareawesome · 2 years ago
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what the everliving fuck? did i do so wrong? i tried difficulty ONE of swarm disaster, says for team lvl 66, i took in 4 80s, and on the second stage kafka pasted my entire party?? (trl phys, qq, dhil, and luocha). i just...that is the literal BEGINNING after the tutorial?? what the fuck? how did i fuck up so *badly*
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ghostlynimbus · 2 years ago
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My dnd cravings arent being satisfied with the group I am in currently, and i want to try to find another group to play with but LFGs are so intimidating ( ; ^ ; )
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jenna-of-eluria · 3 months ago
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Well shit.
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absentlyabbie · 1 year ago
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seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.
very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.
they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.
mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.
sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.
these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.
i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.
what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.
they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???
THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!
it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just
ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.
kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.
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fable-x4 · 9 months ago
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Doing this because it makes me happy •Ꮂ•. Im making it difficult on all of you though.
1 note- I'll go drink water
10 notes - I'll set alarms to actually care for myself
50 notes - set up a daily productivity system so I stop wasting my time doing nothing.
100 notes - ask my friends to help me buy a skirt
500 notes - get a bra & a whole bunch of other affirming clothing !!!
1k - tell my dad that my gf is also trans
2.5k - ask my dad to address me by my prefferred name & pronouns 1k went pretty poorly, so I dont feel super comfortable making an attempt on this.
5k - try to get therapy/psychologist
10k - girl mode at all times (start actively wearing makeup/clothing/doing voice training around people at all times)
50k - try for HRT (0% chance) (also no guarantee on this one)
Asfgg. It feels surprisingly good to have a bunch of strangers who want me to be happy
I have now set up alarms for eating, waking up, and hygene related stuff. I seriously doubt we get to 500, but this has made me significantly happier •Ꮂ•
Doing some math... 25 notes in 4 hours. 6.25 notes per hour. 8000 hours or 333 days until this hits 50k. Hrt in a year ig.
Um. Wow. Its been a day, and we're almost at 300. Everything 500 & below was supposed to be things I'd do with minimal intervention. But now, we're getting to the scarier stuff. I am very intimidated, but also excited
My gf really badly wanted to be here when I buy some of the clothing, so the skirt will be this week, the rest of the clothing will be when she comes back from vacation
Saying that you're force femming me is so not allowed. This is unfair. You have no right to make me feel the ways Im feelingggg. Stop making me happy.
Welp. I told him about my girlfriend. And things went about as poorly as expected. He said that Im parroting what other people think. Slowly taking little parts of them, and applying them to myself. Specifically, being trans. He didnt even leave it to maybes. He said with certainty that I was copying everyone else. I know 9 trans people total. Only 2 of them are my close friends. Everyone else, Im barely aquaintences with. I should have told him that regardless of whatever theories he has, this has boosted my confidence massively. Slightly less excited for 2.5k notes. At least everything after that is very positive. And at least this lets me talk about my girlfriend for ages. I dont have to say her deadname through gritted teeth. Oh context. He already knows Im trans but was ignoring it.
I GOT A SKIRT!!!!!
Thank all of you so much. At first when I got the skirt, I was pretty intimidated by the idea of showing my legs. I thought everyone will just see me as a man. But there's a degree of confidence you all have given me. Yeah. Im pretty. Yeah, Im beautiful even. Yeah. Its a friggin fantastic skirt. And anyone who thinks otherwise is dumb. Im happy, and thats what matters.
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honey-tongued-devil · 6 months ago
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Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.
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[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)
In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!
Viktor:
- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.
- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.
- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).
- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.
- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.
- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.
- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.
Ekko:
- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.
- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.
- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.
- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.
- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.
- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.
- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.
- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”
Vander:
- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.
- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.
- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.
- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.
- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.
- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.
- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.
Silco:
- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.
- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.
- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.
- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.
- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.
- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.
- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.
- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.
- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.
- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.
Jinx:
- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.
- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.
- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.
- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.
- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.
- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.
- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.
- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”
- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.
- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.
- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.
- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.
- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.
Vi:
- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.
- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.
- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.
- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.
- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.
- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view. 
- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you
- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.
- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.
- And you do it again.
- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.
- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.
- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.
Sevika:
- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.
- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.
- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.
- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.
- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.
- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.
- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.
- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.
- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.
- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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Danny’s always thought meeting other vigilantes and heroes outside of Amity would be an event he’d gush about. He’d figured it would be more intimidating. More graceful, certainly. Less humiliating, considering he’s known Val for ages and she’d seen him choke on chili cheese fries in middle school and hack it out like a dying walrus.
Ah, well, at least this time, it wasn’t humiliating for him. Danny Fenton knew when to count his blessings, and this counted for sure.
The sight of the helmeted vigilante laying face down on the pavement for five minutes straight was getting worrying though, even if Danny sympathized with the feeling.
“…You good?”
A pause of deliberation.
“No,” came the muffled reply.
Danny finished filling his gas tank- gah, why did the GAV have to eat so much?- before walking around his car and prodding at the now dozing man. Huh. He smelled kind of liminal. The man groaned.
"Hey, is there someone coming to get you or...?" Danny trailed off. Other than inwardly laughing at watching the infamous Red Hood eat shit on the asphalt, it was probably a good idea for Danny to figure out why the guy was so far from Gotham.
"Ain't your business, kid, get lost." Red Hood made to stand up, only to groan as he stressed his very broken arm.
"Right. Do you want me to sit here with you until your trusted adult picks you up?"
"Oh, fuck off."
Danny grinned. "Here, hold on. I think I've got an arm splint in my car." Without another word, he trotted off to grab his medical supplies.
"That's a concerning amount of medical supplies," Hood's hand- the unbroken one, went to his gun.
"I get hurt a lot. Like, a lot." Danny replied candidly, forking over the medical supplies.
"Red Him! Bizarro come pick up!"
Danny looked up. "Is that... zombie Superman?"
"His name's Bizarro. And he's way better than that blue asshole."
"I'll take your word for it," Danny shrugged. Liminals tended to have better instinct about people anyways.
"Bizarro! Down here, bud!"
"Red him!" Bizarro floated back down to the ground with a thump. Danny saw the little Superman plushie sat on top of his shoulders. "Red her in little trouble!"
"Shit, get me up." Bizarro turned slightly suspicious eyes onto Danny, who just smiled at him.
"Who this?"
"This is... uh..."
"Danny. Retired vigilante." Danny rocked back onto his heels. He'd retired Phantom years ago, taking over the family business and shutting down the portal.
"Huh. That explains a lot," Red Hood considered his arm. "Red Hood. This is Bizarro."
"Skinny him help?" Bizarro asked, visibly worried.
"Sure! Whatcha need help with?" Danny paused. "Can I be something other than skinny him, though?"
"Hey- wait-"
3K notes · View notes
harryspet · 4 months ago
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rough hands, soft chains [2] r.cameron
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[warnings] dark!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, DUBCON, loss of virginity, rafe is HUGE, breeding kink, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)
In which you meet your new family, the Camerons, and learn Rafe's true intentions.
word count: 5.1k
rough hands, soft chains masterlist
The spare outfit you’d packed for your failed escape attempt was a delicate two-piece set in white. The long-sleeve, cropped sweater that featured a soft ruffle trim that barely grazed your midriff, paired with a high-waisted, flowing skirt that swayed with every step. The lightweight fabric was a reflection of your usual preference for comfortable clothes. A handful of other items hung in the closet, clearly not yours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept whatever offering the Camerons had left for you.
After giving your reflection a look, you turned your attention your room. You floated over to the vanity, a rustic wooden display decorated with gold trinkets. You’d only packed the essentials, meaning you’d limited yourself to mascara, concealer, blush and lipgloss. You slid onto the matching stool decking to touch up your makeup, wiping away the smudged mascara and applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. Lip gloss always had a way of brightening your mood, even now. You certainly knew how to get dolled up, like Rafe said, and lucky for him, you liked makeup and clothes that made you feel breezy and feminine. 
When the room grew quiet, Rafe’s words rattled around in your head. You’d always done what your father had said, let him lead you in all aspects of your life, because you trusted him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how your father expected you to trust someone else. In the end, he was the reason you were here now.  He’d handed you over to someone else, like, what? A trade deal? The whole thing was completely unreal.
Something caught your attention outside the large windows. Rolling pastures stretched out before you, dotted with fences and patches of wildflowers swaying gently. Your gaze drifted toward the yard below. Rain trickled down slowly but you realized the figures moving in the distance, behind a tall white fence, were Juliet and John B. Making his way to the fence’s edge, now adorned in a work jacket and dark hat to protect from the rain, was Rafe. 
They were soon deep in conversation. Your eyes lingered on Rafe’s figure a little too long before shifting to Juliet, whose movements were graceful and unbothered. She had been alone for so long, your father had been forced to sell the other three horses your family owned years ago, and her care had undoubtedly suffered as your father’s health declined. Surely, the Camerons had at least a hundred horses and the resources to ensure Juliet was well cared for and had proper company. For a moment, you wondered if she might be happier here, happier than even you.
You were grateful for the distraction when a knock came at your door an hour later. You expected it to be Rafe, but a fleeting thought made you pause, would Rafe even bother knocking?
When you opened the door, you were surprised to find a dark-haired girl standing there, no older than fifteen. She was smiling, her eyes full of curiosity.
"Hey," she said, giving you a once-over with a playful look. "I’m Wheezie, Rafe’s little sister.”
So this was the other Cameron sibling? You smiled instinctively and offered your hand. "Oh, hi! I’m Y/N."
You blinked, studying her more carefully. She looked nothing like Rafe, and in that moment, she seemed almost... approachable. Less intimidating. Her warmth, however, felt almost out of place given the situation.
"I like your outfit," she said, her gaze scanning your clothes and makeup. "And your makeup. Ugh, I wish I could do mine like that. Sarah never has time to show me how."
“Sarah?” you asked, a little confused.
"My older sister," Wheezie explained, raising an eyebrow as if surprised. "Rafe’s never mentioned her?"
You shook your head, realizing she might think you'd known Rafe longer than just today. “Uh, no. He hasn’t.”
"Well, there’s three of us," Wheezie continued, her voice casual. "And Rose, our step-mom."
“Oh, okay,” You nodded, taking in all of the information. You weren’t at all used to meeting new people, “It’s nice to meet you. Can I ask you if Mr. Ward is home yet? I kinda need to speak with him.” 
Wheezie’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering in her eyes. “Him and Rose have been gone all day. Cattle auction, I think. They probably won’t be back until dinner.”
You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. It wasn’t urgent, but you had hoped to speak with Ward sooner rather than later. Part of you wanted to officially see the contract he’d wrote up with your father. Could two men really decide together that you should be married off? Was that still legal? Wheezie, sensing your hesitation, brightened up and added, “I could show you around the house in the meantime.”
You thought about it for a second, then smiled. “Sure, that would be nice.”
Joining Wheezie out in the hallway, your tour began. Wheezie led you to Rafe’s room first, just beside yours. “He likes to keep it locked,” she said with a grin, “Or else I’d totally snoop around with you.”
You liked her instantly. Moving down the hall, you passed Ward’s study, a room that felt both timeless and functional. It had a desk covered in papers and shelves filled with books. Next was the master bedroom, a room with dark wood furniture and soft linens. 
Finally, Wheezie opened the door to the library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the room, and large armchairs were scattered around a grand fireplace. It felt like the perfect spot for quiet moments. 
You couldn’t help but feel small in this place. It held the warmth of a family home but it was massive, the ceilings too high, and had decor that screamed “we’re wealthy”. 
Downstairs, the living room was the first stop, a grand space with towering ceilings. Soft leather sofas and enormous windows that offered a breathtaking view of the stretching land and mountains in the distance.
Moving through the open archway into the kitchen, you took note of counters made of polished stone, dark wood cabinets, and the appliances all state-of-the-art. The kitchen was bustling with a couple of workers, one chopping vegetables at the counter, the other pulling something out of the oven. You noticed a door that led out to a terrace.
“These are all Rose’s renovations. She’s really into interior design, and all that stuff.” 
“And the people. They work here all the time?” you asked, intrigued.
“My Dad can grill, but Rose doesn’t cook at all. So they get help,” Wheezie explained with a shrug. “I think she likes having everything perfect, you know?”
“She does have really nice taste,” You spoke genuinely, fumbling with your fingers as you looked around.
Past the kitchen was the dining room, where a long, weathered table was set for what could easily be a dozen guests. The chandelier above was massive, its crystals catching the light and casting a glow over the room.
Wheezie led you into the garage next. The space was expansive, with polished concrete floors and a collection of vehicles parked neatly in their spots, sleek trucks, a few SUVs, and a couple of classic cars you assumed were more for show. Near the back of the garage, you spotted a few horseshoe-shaped saddles hanging on the wall, alongside an array of hunting gear. There were rifles and ammunition neatly organized on the shelves, a few pairs of boots stacked by the door, and weathered hunting jackets hanging from the walls. It was practical, but still had the polished look of the rest of the house, like nothing here was ever out of place.
“Do you ride?” Wheezie asked as you took in the details of the room.
“Yeah, I have a horse named Juliet,” you grinned. “Do you?”
“I can,” Wheezie replied with a shrug. “I’m not great at it. Sarah’s better, and Rafe—well, he’s good at things like that.”
“Does Sarah live here too?” you asked, curious.
“Yeah, but she’s been MIA for two days.” Wheezie’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You can’t tell anyone this,” she continued, glancing around before leaning in closer. “She and John B. are a thing. And she hangs out with his friends.”
“It’s a secret?” you asked, intrigued but still unsure of the family dynamics at play.
Wheezie nodded, her eyes flicking to the door as if checking for eavesdroppers. “My dad wants her to be with someone whose family is... more prestigious, if that makes sense?”
You processed that for a moment, nodding slowly. “But my family’s not... prestigious. But Ward wants me to marry your brother.”
A mischievous glint sparked in Wheezie’s eyes. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. “Is it true that Rafe got you pregnant and that’s why you have to live with us?”
You froze for a split second, then blurted out, “I am not!” You suddenly realized how loud you’d been and lowered your voice, grabbing Wheezie’s hand as you whispered urgently, “I am not.”
“Other people don’t think I’m pregnant, do they?” You continued, “Because I don’t think I’ve done anything that could lead to that…”
You questioned yourself for a moment, feeling a pang of uncertainty. You’d learned about the birds and the bees just once, when you were eleven, and it had been before your mother died. After that, your education had been limited, and anything beyond what she'd explained was a blur of confusion.
What you were certain of, though, was that the kiss with Rafe couldn’t have led to that. You had never heard of anything like that happening from a simple kiss. To your knowledge, you needed at least to sleep in the same bed for that to happen, and you and Rafe hadn’t crossed that line. Before your mind could wander to that possibility, Wheezie spoke. 
“I’m not trying to be rude, just curious,” She said with a smirk, her tone light and teasing. “No one around here tells me anything.”
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A few hours later you entered the dining room again with Wheezie. You’d spend a good amount of time in her room and she’d explained more about her family, including more details about Rafe. You learned that she was Rafe’s soft spot. That he was cold to almost everyone except her. Ward had a lot of expectations for him and Rafe did about everything he could to appease his father. 
“I think Rafe just wants to do things his own way,” Wheezie had mused. “But, you know, my Dad has other ideas. He’s been trying to get Rafe to be more... ‘like him.’”
Kindly, you’d accepted her request for you to help her with her makeup. You’d done hers like yours, with bright blush and shiny lipgloss. She was so excited that she practically skipped down the stairs after, her happiness infectious as she bounced in front of you. A part of you couldn’t help but smile. Was this what it was like to have a sister? The feeling was new and strange, but warm, like something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.
Rafe looked you over, as if he was offended by your choice in clothing, “What did I do?” You asked, innocently. 
Maybe he didn’t think your outfit was cute. 
“Come sit next to me,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something possessive, as if he were commanding you rather than asking. He waved you over. 
You hesitated, looking at Ward, who gave you a reassuring, welcoming smile, and then at Rose and Sarah. Sarah’s gaze was sharp, watching you with a kind of calculating curiosity, while Rose barely seemed to notice, her eyes distant and uninterested.
You exhaled slowly, making your way over to the seat next to Rafe. Your knees brushed against each other but he didn’t move his. 
“Everyone, this is Y/N. I’ve known her family for years, and after that everything’s happened, she’s going to stay with us. She’s been through a lot.”
“Mm-hmm,” Rose murmured, almost absentmindedly. “It’s lovely to have you here with us.” Her tone wasn’t cold, but it certainly wasn’t warm, either.
Ward’s words seemed genuine, but you didn’t understand fully why he spoke so kindly. The two of you were practically strangers. Wheezie smiled brightly in reaction. Sarah, on the other hand, was looking you over even more closely than Rafe. You could see the thoughts swirling in your mind. 
“I have a question-” She blurted out.
Ward interrupted, “I’d watch yourself, young lady.” 
“I just want to make sure everything’s clear,” Sarah said softly, her voice quieter now. “I’m just... trying to understand why, that’s all. A marriage seems a little bit rushed, don’t you think? They didn’t even know each other before today.” 
“They didn’t?” Wheezie raised an eyebrow. 
The pressure in the room increased, “Sarah,” Ward began to warn her but it was Rafe who spoke up next. 
Rafe’s voice cut through the growing tension, his tone firm, almost possessive. “It’s not rushed, Sarah,” he said, turning to look at her. “It’s just what it is. No need to complicate it.”
You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the sharpness of Rafe’s gaze making you shift uncomfortably in your seat. He answering for you, as if you didn’t have a say in how things were perceived.
Sarah didn’t flinch. Her eyes held a quiet defiance. As if to change the subject, Rafe continued, “What is that on your face, Wheeze?” 
“It’s called makeup,” She shot back, annoyed, “Y/N did it.”
Rafe turned his head towards you, “It’s a little much for someone her age, don’t you think?”
“I think she looks really pretty. I started wearing makeup way younger than her,” You responded quietly but honestly, “That’s how you, like, get good at it.” 
“See,” Wheezie stuck her tongue out at her older brother. 
Suddenly, you felt Rafe’s hand touch your knee underneath the table. The warmth of Rafe’s hand on your knee sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite focus on anything else. His touch was unexpected, as though he’d done it without thinking, and yet, there was something deliberate about the way he kept his hand resting there.
Dinner was officially served moments later. Rafe’s hand remained there on your knee as you all began to eat the carefully prepared steak, potatoes and asparagus. Your steak was already cut into a pieces, a luxury that you didn’t even know others experienced. 
Sarah pushed around her asparagus, “How do you feel about moving in with us so suddenly, Y/N? I mean, do you really know what you’re getting yourself into?”
You paused, unsure of what to say, your gaze instinctively shifting toward Rafe. His hand was still on your knee, but the grip felt firmer now, like he was holding you in place, keeping you from saying something that might upset the balance of things.
You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts, but when you opened your mouth, it all just came tumbling out. “It’s kinda overwhelming,” you started, your voice soft but a little unsure. “I miss… I miss my Dad. And you guys have all this land, and this house is so huge, it’s hard to wrap my head around it all.” You glanced at Sarah, then back to your plate. “And, like, I didn’t think I’d get married this young, but… if it’s really what my Dad wanted…”
You trailed off, feeling a little embarrassed. Sarah’s gaze softened slightly, “It’s a big step. Are you sure you’re ready?”
Up until that point, you hadn’t realized you had a choice in all of this. You could see she wasn’t questioning you out of judgement. She almost looked concerned. 
“Enough, Sarah,” Ward spoke sharply, “This is bigger than what one person thinks is right. I don’t expect you to understand but it’s about responsibility. Rafe is growing up and he’s decided to take on new responsibilities. I don’t see why you can’t be supportive.” 
“I just think she deserves more time to decide,” Sarah said. 
“There isn’t a rush. I’m not rushing them, that’s for certain. Rafe and Y/N will take the time to get to know each other.”
The room fell quiet for a moment. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. You glanced at him and noticed the subtle shake of his head, as if dismissing the entire idea. “What’s the point in waiting? You can plan a wedding in a few weeks, right?” 
“Rafe, son, don’t you think two should spend some time together?”
“No, Dad, we’ll get married as soon as possible. If Y/N wants to have a real ceremony, Rose can plan it, but I’d be down to just go to the courthouse.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. 
“Rafe,” Sarah leaned forward in her seat, “Are you actually crazy?”
How did we get here? You had no answers, just a rush of emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe you should’ve said something, but the lump in your throat made it hard to think. 
“We’ll figure it out” Rafe said, cutting her off. He turned his attention to you, his gaze intense but unreadable. “Right, darling?”
The way he looked at you made your stomach twist. It was as though he was asking you to confirm something you didn’t fully understand yourself. You opened your mouth to respond, but Wheezie chimed in before you could.
“Dude, that’s like, so not romantic!” she exclaimed, scrunching her nose. “You haven’t even proposed yet!”
Sarah seized the moment, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Exactly. At least ask her properly, Rafe. Or are you afraid she’ll say no?”
The air at the table grew heavier. You glanced at Ward, who looked ready to intervene, but Rafe beat him to it. His lips curled into a tight smile, though his eyes flashed with something darker. “You think I’m afraid of that, Sarah?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.
All you could think about was the way Rafe’s hand hadn’t left your knee, his grip steady, as if anchoring you to him despite the chaos swirling around the table.
“Can we drop it, please?” Rafe asked, his tone deep and final. 
“I want Y/N to stay,” Wheezie decided. 
“We all want Y/N to stay,” Ward clarified.
“Well, good,” Rose chimed in, her smile polished and hollow. “Then it’s settled.”
At the end of dinner, Ward leaned back in his chair, addressing you, “You’ll find we take care of our own here, sweetheart. Anything you need, you only have to ask.”
“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure what else to say.
“We should get going,” Rafe announced abruptly, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. His hand left your knee, only to find the small of your back as he helped you up. 
Wheezie pouted. “But we haven’t even had dessert!”
“Next time, Wheeze,” Rafe replied, his tone firm. “Come on, Y/N.”
You followed him out of the dining room, feeling the eyes of his entire family on your back. 
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“Where are we going?” You asked, trying to keep up with Rafe’s long strides. He’d given you his jacket and asked you to put on your boots, before guiding you out the front door. You clutched the jacket tightly, the night beginning to turn cool. The sky was still heavy with the remnants of rain but an orange and pink sun began to lower in the sky, peaking behind soft, gray clouds, “Rafe?” 
High grass tickled the bare legs hidden beneath your skirt as you walked into the fields, “Just for a walk. That okay with you?”
“You know, sometimes I think you really don’t care what’s okay with me.” Rafe flashed you an amused look, “Oh yeah? Maybe I like making decisions for you.” 
You snorted in disbelief but your heart fluttered nonetheless. 
"What's the real reason you brought me out here?" You asked, pushing the conversation forward despite the tension. 
Rafe stopped and turned to face you, his expression unreadable for a moment. He studied you, like he was considering his words carefully. "Maybe I just wanted to see you without all the noise around us. No distractions. Just you and me."
The ranch stretched out before you, vast and quiet. The ground beneath your feet was soft as you walked, fast enough to follow Rafe’s steps. A faint hum of crickets began to rise in the distance. 
A modest building tucked near the tree line, far from the main house came into view, “That’s the ranch hand’s quarters,” Rafe explained, “You won’t need to be over there, it’s no place for a woman.” 
The sun continued to hang lower as you walked, casting a golden hue over the land. Rafe led you further into the sprawling escape, pointing out different landmarks, “This land’s been my family’s for generations. But my Dad was the one who made it what it was today. It’s very important to me. This land and all the hard work that’s put into it.” 
“My dad’s tough on me but it’s his legacy, you know? It’s more than just making money or raising cattle. I don’t know, I just want to protect what I have. Make sure my kids and my grandkids have it, ya' know?”
He didn’t look for your understanding, his words genuine, but the look on his face was guarded. He paused, his jaw tightening slightly, “You don’t to get to be part of something big and not feel like you’ve got to give everything you have to it.”
“What if…” Your voice trailed as you tried to collect your thoughts, “How do I know it’s something I want to be apart of?” 
“As my wife, you’d stand beside me. You’d build with me. Raise our children. Make a home. You’d make everything that I’m working towards, worth it. That’s a life with purpose, yeah?” 
As he spoke, his voice deep and steady, you found yourself drawn to the way his features seemed to soften, despite the intensity of his words. Those blue eyes were focused on you with an intensity that made your throat go dry. 
He stood taller now, the weight of his words pressed in on you and you could see the full picture he was painting. It wasn’t just the land. It was you. It was him. It was a family. 
“Yeah,” You agreed, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it. Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to his lips. They were slightly parted, the edge of his mouth curling just a bit as he spoke, and for a moment, you forgot where you were.
“Yeah,” Rafe agreed, a knowing look on his face, and his hand found the small of your back, “I owe you something, don’t I?”
“Owe me?” Your voice faltered. What was he talking about? 
Rafe didn’t answer right away. Instead, he simply pulled you forward, his hand firm against your back as he guided you through the tall grass. You didn’t have time to question him before the two of you reached a secluded barn, tall and clay-colored, tucked far away from the main house. The air smelled faintly of hay and wood, the earthy scent of the ranch settling around you. But you barely had time to take in your surroundings before Rafe was pulling you into him. His hand slid to the back of your neck, drawing you closer, until his lips were on yours. 
The kiss Rafe Cameron had promised you. 
All those thoughts you had about the land, the future, everything he’d said, it all slipped away. 
Someone, something, had overtaken you. Something ached inside of you, a part of your very being that had never been satisfied. You felt like an animal, desperate, grabbing at Rafe’s shirt, wanting him closer. He was already pressed tightly against you but deep down you wanted more. 
His lips weren’t as gentle as you remembered, they enveloped your mouth, his tongue tasting you, his arms keeping you where he wanted as he explored you.Without warning, he tugged you into an empty stall, the scent of hay and leather thick in the air. His hands were at the edges of your jacket now, pulling it open, his fingers brushing against your skin as the cool air of the barn nipped at your exposed flesh. 
A startled yelp escaped your lips as you felt his hands bunching up your skirt, the fabric sliding higher until it was gathered above your hips. Your eyes flew open, but Rafe was relentless, his mouth still claiming yours with fervent, unyielding kisses. You didn’t know exactly how babies were made but you had a feeling you were getting closer than you’d ever had before. Before you could process it, Rafe lifted you effortlessly, his hands sliding to cup your bottom as he held you tightly against him. Part of you began to panic. 
Then, with deliberate care, he laid you down. not on the rough ground but on his jacket, which was spread beneath you. Darkened eyes met your panicked ones. This was much more than a kiss. Although you’d enjoyed that part of the exchange, you weren’t sure you wanted more, “Rafe,” You whispered, your voice uncertain, as he moved his mouth from your lips to the sides of your mouth. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of sensations. You pushed at his chest and felt you were pushing against a boulder. There would know way to get from underneath him, even if you tried, “Are… you gonna put a baby in me?”
He paused, lifting his head to look you in the eye and you had to remind yourself to breathe in that moment, “Jesus Christ. You’re something else, you know that?” Rafe grinned and some of your uncertainty went away. His reaction made the moment feel more lighthearted, like there wasn’t a boundary being crossed, like his intentions were innocent.
“I like the kissing,” You admitted, “It feels good b-but I’m scared–”
Rafe shushed you, peppering gentle kisses along your jawline, until he reached the side of your neck. Your thighs clenched tightly, your head tilted back, and you couldn’t control your moaning. Rafe spread your legs with his own, his jeans brushing against the smoothness of your thighs. He pressed his lower half into you and you felt something as hard as a rock, rubbing against your panties. It was then, your core started to feel like it was on fire. 
“Don’t be scared, it’ll just hurt for a moment,” Rafe spoke against your skin, huskily, his voice almost sounding like he was in pain, “You’re just gonna lay still for me, I need you to help me to take care of something.”
“Hurt?” You questioned, your mind hanging on that word. Then you thought back to your question. He hadn’t really answered. 
He seemed to ignore you again, his mouth moving lower on your body. He pulled your shirt down, and as your breasts spilled from their constraints, he left kisses on your nipples. Your head tilted back again when he took one of your nipples fully into his mouth, “Rafe,” You whispered but the sound of his name only seem to push him further. His fingers traced the edge of your panties before he slipped his fingers inside, brushing over your folds. You were wet down there, you realized, and mostly out of embarrassment, you started to pull away, “Please don’t touch me there.” 
You watched his pupils dilate as he stared down at you intently. He kept one hand in your underwear and wrapped his other around your throat, quickly, as if his body was reacting instinctively to your defiance. 
“Don’t tell me that,” Rafe said, almost growling, and your hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to push away his hand as you struggled to breathe, “I have to touch ya' here, darlin’. I’m gonna be your husband. This belongs to me, understand?” 
Your eyes widened as he rubbed circles over your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked in reaction and you silenced your moans, knowing you only had so much air to breathe, “Say you understand. Say yes.” 
You nodded your head quickly, “Yes,” You whispered. 
You were grateful when he loosed his grip around your throat, “It’s a good thing you’re wet. Nothing to be ashamed of. Just means this is what your body wants, baby. You already want to make me happy.” 
You weren’t quite sure at what moment your body decided to freeze. Your nerves were overwhelmed, of course, and it seemed like you’d come out less scathed from the situation if you did as Rafe said. You could stay still and take it. There was something happening with Rafe you didn’t understand but he was acting as though he needed something and you were only one who could provide it. You could stay still and take it if it would make him happy, right? It’s a good thing to make other people happy. 
You focused on the kisses on your lips, the way his soft mouth moved methodically over yours. The faint jangle of metal pulled you back to the moment, a sound you barely registered until you felt the press of something impossibly hard, slowly pushing against a place you hadn’t realized could take him. His manhood, you assumed, what made him different from you. It hurt like he said it would but not for just a moment. Were all manhoods this size? This is what your body really wants? 
“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the edge of strain. His hand brushed over your trembling thigh, steadying you as your body tried to accommodate him. “You’re okay. I promise.”
He started to rock into you once you felt completely full to the brim. Initially, it felt even worse than him pushing all the way inside you. Tears fell and your breath grew rapid, “It hurts,” You whimpered, “It really hurts.”
“It’s okay,” He said, maintaining his pace, “You’re okay, darlin’. You’re doing great. It’s just your first time. Gotta get used to me, that's all.” 
“Are-are you putting a baby in me, Rafe?” You asked, your voice an innocent whisper. His grip on you tightened as his rhythm grew more deliberate, his words spilling out in a low growl.
“Fuck yes, darlin’,” he said, his voice thick with unrestrained desire. “I’m gonna put a baby in you.”
His hands, his words, the pain between your legs that was slowly turning to pleasure, it made you dizzy, and you couldn’t keep track of your thoughts. You belonged to him? A baby? It didn’t make sense, but part of you felt comforted by the intensity of him. You trusted he knew more. Everything’s okay. You were okay. It felt like something you were supposed to be, so you let go and let him have you.
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a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)
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landopoet · 3 months ago
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playgrounds and playdates.
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pairing single dad!lando x single mum!reader
synopsis in which meeting a single dad and his son turns your whole life upside down.
author’s note this story has taken me so long to write and i’m so sorry for that!! as always, thank you to @clovermoters for the constant help, support and encouragement. i love you all, hope you enjoy <3
࿐ ࿔*:・゚early spring, march 13th
the green canopy of the trees held back most of the sunlight and the last drops of warmth you’d soak up before fully submerging yourselves in the forest. 
your little one, a three year old girl named stevie, was happily running along the track, her youthful laughter echoing through the silent forest. it just became warm enough to finally go on walks again and visit her favourite place. 
though, the girl had many favourite places. if you’d ask stevie, she’d name at least four before finally deciding on the playground. 
“mum, look!” stevie beamed, her tiny finger pointing towards the end of her path and the playground that came into view the farther she ran. 
you smiled at her, not needing to walk too fast to keep up with her pace. “i see, sweetheart. you wanna swing?” 
“nuh uh,” the girl shook her head, stopping in her steps to look up at you. “sandbox.” 
“ah, how could i forget,” you nodded in approval and your little girl took off running again. “don’t eat the sand, angel.” you warn as soon as you two make it to the sand pit. there’s already some toys there but pull out the pink sand toy set from your bag and hand it to stevie. 
as the little girl plays, you watch and wonder how you got so lucky with stevie, as she was already so independent for her age. she was smart, resilient, empathetic and everything you wouldn’t expect a three year old to be. 
you wanted her to remember her childhood as best as possible, so you made a scrapbook— called it ‘stevie’s adventures’— and marked down bits and pieces of her life. so far, you’ve added the hospital bracelet you wore during labour and some of her infant stuff, like socks, a few onesies and even a few binkies. 
you decide to snap a picture of her in the sandbox, now playing with a blond, curly-haired boy who couldn’t have been much older than her. taking a picture of a stranger's child would go against everything you’ve been doing to protect stevie’s personal life from online creeps, so you look around to try and find whoever’s responsible for the kid. 
the only other adult person on this playground is standing a few steps away from your bench, navy sweatered arms crossed across his chest, white cap adorning his curly haired head. he looks intimidating and cold, like he’d shatter you with just a glance. 
eventually, you muster up the courage to speak to him. “uhm, excuse me?” 
the man turns to you like he was expecting you to speak to him, moustached lips turning into a welcoming smile. “what’s up?” 
“is that your child in the sandbox?” you point to the boy, although you could already tell they were related— the subtle curls sticking out from under his cap matched the boys’ ones perfectly. the man nods, a little confused. “okay so this is really random, but i like to take pictures of moments in my daughter’s life and i was wondering if you’re okay with your son being in it?”
the stranger seems to let out a sigh of relief, a little less anxious about your line of questioning. “yeah, that’s fine.” 
you give him a slight nod accompanied by a small smile. he watches as you pull out your camera, bring it up to your eye and get your perfect shot before putting it back into your bag. when your eyes flicker back towards him, he hesitantly extends a hand. “i’m lando.”
you blink at him twice before getting up and shaking his hand. “nice to meet you, lando. i’m y/n.”
he lingers for a moment, just watching you when you turn your attention back to the kids in the sandbox. the little boy is sharing his dinosaur bucket with stevie and she’s shovelling sand into it, babbling on about something you can’t hear. 
࿐ ࿔*:・゚march 27th
“stevie!”
your head whips towards the source of the sound, coming from a young boy. it takes you a few seconds before you notice his dad and both of you smile at each other. 
stevie runs up to the boy and gives him a tight squeeze. “theo!” 
over the past two weeks, you had come to the park a few times and met lando, and his son theo, there each time. not on purpose, it’s just that your park schedules just seemed to match up. 
stevie became very fond of theo over such a short time and it warms your heart to see her beaming face as they play tag around the swing set.
“is your kid a picky eater?” lando suddenly asks, trying to break the unnecessarily awkward silence. “theo doesn’t eat carrots, all of a sudden. used to be his favourite snack until literally this morning.” 
you try to hide your laughter when lando pinches the bridge of his nose, jokingly frustrated with his son. “stevie doesn’t eat the crust on bread or broccoli stems.” 
“theo would agree with her about the importance of crustless bread in their diet,” lando hums, nodding at your answer. “sometimes i wonder if he’s even my kid, ‘cause his taste in food is so different.” 
“he’s the spitting image of you, lando, i figured he was yours before we even spoke.” you roll your eyes, playfully. “and i don’t think taste in anything is genetic. at least i hope not. god forbid stevie goes through the awkward teenage phase of wearing strictly skinny jeans and band tees.” 
lando chuckles. “yeah, i couldn’t see teenage theo rocking straight and damaged hair.” 
“did you straighten it?” you tilt your head to the side, curious as to why anyone would want to get rid of their curls. 
“used to,” he nods. “met theo’s mum and she taught me the proper techniques and products to use to get my hair healthy and curly again.” 
ah, theo’s mum. you had wondered if lando had a partner. not for any particular reason, it was just because you only ever saw him at the park with theo and never the boys mum.
“mum!” stevie runs up to you, out of breath. “thirsty.”
your daughter wasn’t a fan of using many words in her sentences and, at first, you had begun to worry about it, but after many doctors visits, they confirmed that it was just a quirk she had adopted.
you open your bag and take out her water bottle. stevie basically rips it out of your hands, urgent to get as many gulps down as she can before she continues to play tag with theo. 
the boy was stood by his dad, hugging him around the waist as lando pushed theo’s curls out of his face. “you tired yet?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 
“nuh uh,” theo shakes his head, instantly. “i like playing with stevie.” 
“i know you do, bud, but we have to make dinner. you said you’d help me make that cheesy pasta you like.” lando raises his brows a few times, trying to pique his son's interest.
theo sighs. “i know. could stevie come over someday, then?” 
lando’s eyes flicker up to yours, “could she? i host the best tea parties in town.” 
you turn your head back to stevie when an excited gasp leaves her lips. “tea party?” she practically squeals as she repeats what lando said. “mum, can we go? please, please, please!” 
the expectant look on stevie, theo, and even lando’s, faces makes you laugh. “i don’t see why not.” 
࿐ ࿔*:・゚april 4th
“and would the princess like some biscuits with her tea?” lando asked, clad in grey sweatpants, white shirt… and a superman cape. apparently this tea party turned into a costume party, and you didn’t get the memo.
your daughter giggled before tipping her head and lifting up the sides of her cinderella dress. “yes, please.”
theo sat between them, happily smiling at the exchange between lando and stevie. “i want some too, dad!”
“biscuits for batman and cinderella coming right up!” he smiles at them before looking at you and nodding his head as an urge for you to get up. you follow him into the kitchen. 
“had no idea you were superman, i feel like i should bow down to my hero or something,” you smile over the rim of your cup. 
“nah, it’s a sidegig.” lando shrugs, nonchalantly, as he pulls out a few different types of biscuits from a cupboard. “is stevie allergic to anything?” 
“nope,” you shake your head. “but she likes to say she’s allergic to cucumber peel.” 
“ah, the famous excuse for not eating food they don’t like. been there. theo was trying to convince me that he was allergic to tomatoes until i told him what ketchup was made from.” lando laughed. 
you smile at how fondly he speaks of theo. “where’s theo’s mum?” you suddenly blurt, eyes wide as you cover your mouth. “sorry, that’s such a personal question, i didn’t mean to.”
“well, you were clearly curious about it.” lando looks at you. “and that’s okay. but i’d rather talk about something else.” 
“yes, sorry.” you nod. “what do you do for work?”
“i work at a karting place. i own it, actually.” lando spreads the biscuits out nicely onto a platter, adding a few cut up fruits from the fridge to make somewhat of a charcuterie board. 
“oh, so that’s why you can afford karting for theo,” you hum, before taking a sip of your coffee, remembering one of the first conversations you had about your children’s hobbies. stevie likes to draw and play pretend, meanwhile theo finds joy in racing. 
“that and his godfather being an F1 driver,” lando smiles fondly, eyes darting up to yours for a brief second before he goes back to assembling the snack board. “i used to race, too, before theo.” 
“do you miss it?” you watch him closely, noticing the slight wince in his face. 
eventually, he shrugs. “sometimes. other times, i realise how little energy fatherhood takes out of me compared to sitting in a small, hot space for hours at a time.” 
“mm,” you hum again, nodding. you can’t really imagine anything harder than motherhood. “but that’s cars versus raising and nourishing a whole other human and personality.”
“yeah, true.” he agrees. “i guess i just got lucky with theo.”
“or he got lucky with you.” you and lando share a glance that lasts a little too long and seems a little too fond for just acquainted parents. you clear your throat and look away, instead choosing to watch whatever’s left in your mostly empty cup.
࿐ ࿔*:・ may 23rd
after a few more weeks of playdates at each other’s houses, theo saw it fit to include stevie in one of his favourite things in the world— karting.
the young boy pestered his father endlessly, using his puppy eyes technique to get what he wanted. “please?” he asked, dragging out the last syllable of the word to be a little more annoying and convincing.
“i’m sorry, bud. i don’t think she’ll like karting.” lando watched his sons face turn from hopeful to frustrated. the little boy crossed his arms over his chest, turning himself away from lando and facing the nearest wall to their couch. 
“i won’t go if she’s not there.” 
the simple yet strongly made statement forced lando to hold back a snort. “fine, i’ll call and see if she’d like to come. but i’m not promising anything.”
when friday afternoon rolled around, lando was delighted— and relieved— to see you and stevie making your way over to where he and theo were waiting. 
“dad, it’s stevie!” theo’s face lit up as stevie ran over to them. “hi!”
“hi, theo!” stevie smiled and hugged him. she waved at lando. “hey, dude!” 
“stevie, what did i tell you about calling people dude?” you say and playfully roll your eyes before looking at lando. “she randomly picked it up from who knows where and now everyone is dude.” 
lando chuckles. “that’s funny, dude.” he looks down at stevie with an excited grin. “you ready to race?” 
“heck yeah, dude.” stevie giggles and balls her hand into a fist, bumping it with lando’s. her hazel eyes look intensely at his open palm when he offers her a hand, confused as for whether or not he’s safe to walk with.
stevie’s seen and spent time with lando multiple times now, but everytime she did, you were there. in this moment, she was stood alone next to theo and lando, and even though you were only a few steps behind her, she felt like she was all by herself.
she turns her blonde head of hair towards you, eyes glancing up to look at yours. she was looking for any sign of disapproval or worry, but instead she saw you nodding your head encouragingly. “you need to get your helmet on, baby. lando will help you and then you can meet me back here, okay?”
stevie bites her lip with a glint of worry in her eye, but swiftly turns around and places her tiny palm in lando’s. lando gives you a small smile and the three of them make their way into the building. 
stevie’s worries seem to lessen the more lando jokes around with her. first, he puts his balaclava on backwards, making both the kids laugh at how goofy he looked while flailing his arms around in the air. secondly, he tries to put on a helmet too small, which again results in a fit of giggles from theo and stevie. eventually, when he finds the perfect size helmet for stevie, he gets theo’s one— obviously designed with his favourite animated characters and colours— and leads the kids outside. 
you watch as stevie runs to you, looking like a bobble-head because of how huge the helmet seemed. “woah, look at you.” you gasp as you squat down to be her height. “you scared?” 
“nuh uh,” stevie shakes her head. “lando said i’m a rockstar and i’ll do great.” 
your heart swells a bit. just as you’re about to speak, theo runs up to you both. “sorry, but my dad asked to bring stevie over to get her ready. he said you can go make coffee inside, though!” 
“thank you, theo,” you smile softly and get up, watching as the two kids run towards lando with their hands held. 
while you navigate through the building and try to find a place where you can secretly watch stevie and theo racing, lando explains how everything works to stevie. 
“okay, so,” he places a hand atop her left foot, “you’ll have to push this foot forward to move, and this one,” he places the same hand on her other foot, “to slow down and stop. okay?” 
“just like a car?” stevie tilts her head to the side, her interest piqued despite her never even seeing how a kart drives. 
lando smiles and nods. “just like a car. if you get scared, you can slow down and stop, and i’ll run over to help you. you can go as slow as you’d like but don’t go too fast, you could hurt yourself or get dizzy.” 
“okay, dude,” stevie nods, trying her best to retain as much of the information as she could. her eyes follow lando as he walks over towards theo’s kart, the two talking about something that made theo laugh. 
you watch from inside the building, worried eyes following lando’s every move. when he starts up stevie’s kart, you can briefly feel your heart stop beating. you’ve never been so scared for her, and even though lando assured you there’s no way she could hurt herself, you’re not sure if you could forgive yourself in the case of an accident. 
lando finds you holding a hand over your chest as you watched the two kids drive around the track. “hey,” he said, calmly, trying his best not to startle you. 
you gave him a weak smile. “hi. was she nervous?” 
“a little, but that’s normal.” he walked up and stood next to you, before placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “i explained to her how it works. she’s a smart kid and a fast learner.” 
“yeah,” you nodded. “what if something goes wrong?” 
“it won’t.” his voice was calm as you leaned into his touch, his arm sneaking down your back and around your waist to pull you into a side-hug. “i asked theo to let her pass him a few times so she gets the full experience of karting. maybe you’ll have a little racer on your hands.” 
your head subconsciously lays on his shoulder as your crossed arms stay firm against your chest. “yeah, don’t think i’d be able to afford it, but i guess her and theo would get to have more playdates.” 
“i’d help you,” he hummed, his own head resting atop of yours. “i mean, the competitions would probably cost a bit but i’d provide her with a kart and helmet. max would also love to pitch in.” 
“don’t be silly,” you laughed a little. “she already does ballet in the mornings.” 
“who said she can’t be a ballerina and a racer at the same time? she’d be the coolest kid on the planet if so,” he softly smiles, eyes looking down at your focused face. “besides, i’d get to spend a little more time with her mum.” 
“mhm,” you bit back a wider smile. “who says you can’t do that regardless?” 
lando’s heart skips a beat when you turn your head to look at him, only then realising how close you two actually were— his nose brushed yours when you raised your head and his breath fanned your face. he felt his stomach drop and he froze before finally giving in. 
just as you felt his lips inch closer to yours, an employee of his knocked on the doorframe to the room. “one of the kiddos stopped in the middle of the track and she’s asking for lando.” 
the curly-haired man jolts away from you, as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been and turns around to awkwardly say, “uh, okay, i’ll go and, uhm, check.” 
you can’t help but shake your head with a small laugh as you watched the man leave the room at record speed. 
meanwhile, lando was trying to keep his composure in front of the kids. he’s sure they’d blab to you if they noticed him smiling like an idiot. “everything okay, kiddo?” he kneeled in front of stevie’s kart. 
stevie tries to pull the helmet off, but the buckle keeps it tightly situated on her small head. lando helps her unbuckle it and pulls the helmet off, watching as she takes off the bright pink balaclava— her choice— and sighs. “i’m hungry.” 
lando snorts at how random her request seemed. “alright, let’s go get theo and ask your mum if she’d like to join us for dinner, yeah?” 
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
“no, stevie, we don’t throw the food.” 
the little girl halted her movements, her hand in the air as her eyes focused on yours. she had a fist full of vegetables, ones that she clearly wasn’t enjoying, and was getting ready to throw on the floor and an evil glint in her eye. instead of doing as she first intended, she opened her fingers and the vegetables fell all over the table, a few of them landing in lando’s lap.
“sorry, sometimes she just-” you were already making up excuses for your daughter’s childish behaviour when lando cut you off.
“it’s okay, she’s probably overstimulated from an eventful day. it happens.” he shrugs as he picks the peas off from his lap. “y’know, theo threw up on me once after karting, which is why he refuses to eat before he goes on track anymore.”
you stifle a laugh before sitting back up from collecting the vegetables that fell to the floor. stevie was in active conversation with theo and seemed to have forgotten about the vegetables. a few minutes pass before lando speaks again.
“thank you,” he notices the confusion in the tilt of your head. “for coming. it means a lot to theo and, well, to me.” 
the sincerity in his voice made all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks, tinting them the gentlest shade of maroon that lando didn’t miss. “no worries, we’re happy to join you anytime.” 
lando ignores the feelings brewing in his chest and continues eating. you follow his lead and all four of you were done eating in another half hour. 
the waiter came to your table and before you could even ask to split the bill, lando was handing hera a few paper bills and she had scurried off to get his change. 
“weren’t we going to split?” you ask, a little confused. 
lando shrugged. “it’s on me, don’t worry about it.” 
you had already felt bad that he didn’t accept your money for the karting that day, or the ice cream he had bought for stevie a week or so ago, but dinner? you felt the guilt bubble in your stomach growing. “lando, it’s not fair on yo-“ 
“can you just accept that you don’t have to do everything by yourself?” he reasons. “i asked you to come to karting, i paid for it, same with dinner and that extra hour at the park so the kiddos could get ice cream from the ice cream truck. i did it because i want to and i don’t expect anything in return.”
when you look up at him, your expression clearly less upset than before, he decides to crack a joke. “except for maybe a kiss or two.” 
you roll your eyes and the waiter brings back his change just as you’re about to make a witty comeback. 
lando, being the gentleman that he is, offered to drive you both home and you couldn’t deny it after seeing how sleepy stevie had gotten. she fell asleep on the ride home and after lando pulled into the driveway of your small home, you got out to unbuckle her and carry her inside. 
theo waited patiently in the car, listening to a podcast about dinosaurs in his earbuds while lando walked you to your door. 
he smiled down at the sleeping stevie in your arms, bringing a hand up to gently caress her cheek with his finger. “we must’ve wore her out.” 
“she hadn’t had a nap today,” you looked down at your daughter. “pretty sure she’ll sleep through the night.” 
lando’s gaze had shifted to your face subconsciously and he didn’t realise how close you were getting when you looked back up at him. you pulled him in with a soft hold of his jaw, your lips gently pressing against his. 
lando’s hand came up to hold your cheek. the kiss lasted way longer than you intended, but you weren’t complaining. when you finally pulled away, breathless and pink, lando was speechless and in awe. “thank you for today.” 
you closed the door behind yourself, watching through the window of your living room as his car pulled out of your driveway. stevie covered her mouth with her small hand as she giggled. “ooo, mama kissed cool dude.”
a small gasp left your lips as you looked down at stevie. “you saw that?” she nodded her small head. “oh, god.” 
࿐ ࿔*:・ may 28th
you were making dinner in the kitchen when stevie yelled for you from the living room. 
“what is it?” you walk down the hall while wiping your hands on a dishrag. stevie points at the window, lando’s car coming into view when you step closer. “oh, what’s he doing here?” 
stevie watches from the window as you make your way outside to greet a disheveled lando and a smiley theo. 
“hey, everything okay?” you ask when the man finally looks up at you. “i didn’t know you were coming over, i would’ve doubled up on dinner.” 
“i’m not staying for long,” he says, hastily. you could tell he was stressed out and rushing somewhere. “could you watch theo for tonight?” 
“what?” you blink. 
“it’s max, he, uhm,” lando turns to theo and tells him to run inside to see what stevie was up to. when the young boy is out of earshot, lando continues. “max isn’t eating or sleeping. he’s had a bad race and the media’s giving him shit for it. i’m going to visit him and check up on him, and i’d usually bring theo but i don’t want him to see max like that.” 
“oh, god.” you place a hand on lando’s shoulder and he just pulls you into a tight hug. “i can’t imagine how stressed you are. you go take care of max, okay? theo will be okay with us.”  
“thank you so much,” lando pulls away and pecks your lips. “i’ll be back tomorrow evening.” 
and before you can even register that he just kissed you, he’s in his car and halfway down the neighbourhood.
when you make your way inside, the kiddos are on the floor in the living room, theo’s backpack open with half of the content spilled out. 
“would you like to have dinner with us, theo?” you ask the boy and he shakes his head, explaining that lando had given him his dinner before hastily packing his sleepover bag. but when you offered a snack of crackers and cheese, the boy happily agreed.
you turned on an animated film for the kids to watch as you did your washing up for the night before bed. a small smile creeped up on your face as you heard the two little humans giggling about something that only existed in their own world.
as the evening progressed and the kids grew more tired, you laid them both to bed. stevie had a second bed in her room as her cousin often comes visit during the summer, which ended up being perfect for a kid theo’s height. 
routinely, you were obligated to switch on the starry night light and read a story. theo requested a bedtime story about dinosaurs, meanwhile stevie wanted one about princesses, and you somehow managed to make both work.
once you heard the familiar tiny snores escape stevie’s lips, and when theo had turned to his side, you left the room and kept a small crevice of the door ajar. 
the next morning, you had already begun to prepare pancakes while dulcet sounds of jazz music filled your kitchen, when theo gently tugged on your apron. 
“you okay?” you kneeled down to his height and theo rubbed his tired eyes awake before pulling you into a hug. “oh.” 
“dad always gives me morning cuddles,” he explained, a certain sadness in his voice that broke your heart to hear. 
you picked the boy up in your arms and gently caressed his back. “you miss him, huh?” 
theo just nodded, nestling his head onto your shoulder as his arms laid draped over your biceps. “i knew you were as nice as dad said.” 
you can’t help but softly smile at his comment. “thank you, theo. he talks about me?” 
you knew it was wrong to ask a kid such a question, but the words had already escaped your mouth before you could catch them. 
“sometimes,” he hums, a yawn threatening to make its presence. “i think he likes you a lot.” 
“yeah? how so?” you poke his side as a tease. 
theo straightens up a bit, to see your face. “he gets shy when he talks about you to maxie and pietra. and he gets all red like you are right now.” 
you shake your head and tickle his face with the hair that flings around you both. “am not.”
“are too,” he giggles. 
you place him down on the ground and give him an encouraging tap on the back. “how about you go wake stevie up for pancakes?” 
“can you cut it into a pterodactyl?” 
 “can i cut it into a pterodactyl?” theo giggles when you scoff, displaying faux offence. “of course i can.”
the little boy runs back down the hallway and towards stevie’s room. your heart bursts a little when he calls out for your daughter.
“stevie! your mum’s making dinosaur pancakes!” 
࿐ ࿔*:・ june 10th
you expected your first date with lando to be somewhere fancy enough for you to wear a dress you bought while still pregnant with stevie. 
fortunately for both of you, lando offered a night in and you were far too big of a romcom lover to deny his request. 
“thank god you agreed to this,” lando slumps his shoulders when you pry open your front door. you take a second to admire his simple attire— a light blue zip up hoodie with matching sweatpants. 
you move to the side and open the door a little more to let him in. “thank god to max and pietra for agreeing to watch both the kids.” 
“oh, yeah, they’ve been begging me to bring both you and stevie over since the first time you four met.” he sets the bags of stuff down on the dining table. “i think pietra adores you a little.” 
“i hope she knows the feelings are mutual, she’s so cool.” you smile softly. 
“hey, she said the same about you!” lando laughs and when you come close enough, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a hug from behind while unbagging. 
“i bought way too much ice cream but i didn’t know what flavour you liked best so i chose five that i hoped you liked.” he explains as he takes out the third box. “oh, and wine.” 
you lean back into his chest and turn your head just barely to place a kiss on his jawline. “thank you.”
lando’s heartbeat speeds up in a brief second and he hopes you can’t see the blush on his face. he quickly recollects himself and, without letting you go, brings both of you to your kitchen. of course, both of you being so close against one another means that you nearly trip and fall with every step you take. 
eventually, through many giggles and bumps into furniture, you two find yourselves in the living room, spoons and ice cream in hand. 
lando takes a seat on the sofa, arm draped over the back of it as an invitation for you to join him. once you pluck the remote off the coffee table and fetch a blanket for the two of you, lando feels you nestle against him.
“what’re we watching?” he asks, eyes focused on you instead of the screen. 
you shrug. “horror movie?” 
“no,” he sternly says. “i hate them. rom-com, please.”
you stifle a laugh and focus back on the television. after skimming through the films, the two of you choose notting hill and cozy up to watch it. 
about half an hour in, you notice lando’s heartbeat quicken underneath your cheek, but you decide to brush it off as nothing. eventually, he speaks up. 
“so, i’ve been thinking,” lando begins, his voice soft and cautious. his eyes search your face, looking for any sign that might stop him from saying what’s on his mind. but all he sees is the face he’s grown to love and that only urges him to continue.
you slightly sit up, a little worried by what he’s going to say. “about what?”
“us, our kids, you.” he reaches over to grab your hand in his. as his thumb gently caresses the back of your hand, his eyes rest on yours. “i love the way things are between us lately, and i like being around you and stevie, but i want to be more than just movie nights and playdates.” 
your heart skips a beat. “you mean… like, officially? you want to be together?” 
he nods with that same smile you’ve grown so fond of. “yeah, i mean, i know it’s a long-shot and it’s risky with our kids’ friendship and all, but theo already loves you and i’m sure stevie adores me,” he jokes and you playfully roll your eyes. “but it would make me the happiest man alive if you were my girlfriend.” 
“wow,” you’re speechless. “i didn’t think i’d actually hear you say that.”
“i’ve been overthinking it for days,” he laughs, anxiety riddled all across his face as he watches your expression. he can’t exactly read it and that makes him even more nervous. “not to pressure you or anything-“
“yes,” you cut him off, a wide grin on your face as he pulls you into a hug. “i’ve never been so giddy about someone before.”
“yeah?” he flashes you that same, wide grin before pulling you in for a kiss.
“oh gosh, we have to tell the kids,” you gasp with a hand gently pushing lando’s kissy face away. he furrows his brows, confused as for why he can’t kiss his girlfriend.
“theo knows,” lando shrugs. “i told him that i’d be asking you to be my girlfriend and at first asked if he’d be okay with that.”
“and what’d he say?” you lay your head in lando’s lap as he plays with your hair, a small smile on his face. 
“he asked if that means you’ll be able to stay around more, and then said that you make the best pancakes.”
“oh, did he tell you about the dinosaur pancakes?”
lando nods. “he asked me to make them the next morning and told me to take him to your house, because i didn’t get them right.”
a laugh escapes your lips. “you could’ve come over, you know? i would’ve been happy to serve theo some more dino pancakes, and maybe taught you how to make them.”
“yeah?” he leans down to place a kiss on your lips, hoping that this time you don’t push him away. and it’s quite the opposite actually, because he feels your hand on the back of his head, tugging gently at the curls cascading down his neck as you pull him in deeper.
despite having kissed you a couple times before, this kiss makes lando that much more excited to spend as much time with you as you and stevie were willing to grant him. 
and he’ll make sure it’s the most loved you two will ever feel. 
࿐ ࿔*:・ december 14th
“theo, watch your step.”
the young boy was carrying a box bigger than himself with stevie following right behind him, a smaller box of her stuff in hand. 
today was the day you were moving into your new home– a home you and stevie will be sharing with the two most important boys in your life– and you couldn’t be more excited. 
to some, it seemed like it all came too soon— the relationship, the moving in together, caring for each other’s child whenever the other needed it, but neither you nor lando cared what others thought. 
it was clear from the first few months of knowing you that lando would be head over heels in love with you. he didn’t care how quickly your lives entwined, instead he was excited to see what would grow from it.
you placed the last few boxes in the living room and stood in the doorframe to the dining room, watching as stevie and theo chased each other, their laughter echoing off of the walls. 
lando’s hands creep around your waist as he pulls you in from behind. he places a gentle kiss against your hairline, “welcome home, love.”
you turn around to face him, arms instinctively hugging his neck as your eyes well with tears. 
“welcome home to us.” 
࿐ ࿔*:・ two years later, june 26th
the sun peeked from behind the clouds, rays of light bouncing off of your face as the pinks, blues and oranges merged into a beautiful sunset above the water. 
it was one of the warmer days and lando decided to take you all out for a picnic on the beach. it wasn’t unusual for him to plan spontaneous activities, but still he was nervous you knew what he was up to. 
the velvet box sat tucked away in the bag of stuff he packed, his heartbeat quickening every time you dove into it to find something you needed. 
that’s where theo came in.
“y/n,” he called out just as your hand was reaching into the exact corner the box was located in. you turned your attention to the boy, sitting up straight. 
while theo was blowing your mind with his dinosaur facts, lando hastily stuck his hand into the bag and retrieved the ring box, immediately putting it into his pocket. when theo glanced back over to his dad, lando gave him a reassuring wink and the boy took off to play by the water with stevie, again. 
“oh, guess that’s all he wanted,” you shrugged before turning around to lando. “you didn’t pack any napkins?” 
“oh,” lando panicked. fuck, through all his meticulous planning with max and pietra, he forgot to pack the most important thing. how was he supposed to propose with his hands all messy? “uhm, no, must’ve forgot, sorry.”
you leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “that’s alright, i’ll go splash around in the water with the kiddos and wash my hands then.” 
lando watched as you pulled yourself up and made your way towards the water, his heart pounding against his sternum. he took one last glance at the box that could make or break the future with you he had already planned out in his head, and followed your lead. 
once he was close enough, stevie ran up to him. “lando! the water is so warm, come feel it.” 
he couldn’t say no to the little girls pleading eyes and followed her as she dragged him to the water. he took that as one last chance to calm himself down and get it over with. 
lando was only nervous because it wasn’t just you he’s proposing to. stevie had become such an important part of his life that he’s afraid of ruining her perception of him if the proposal were to go wrong. and his mother already loved the girl, even after the handful of times they’ve met. 
so, anxiety was understandable in his case.
he watched stevie’s wide grin as she looked out at the water, and then behind herself to where her mum and theo were chatting. 
you had noticed lando’s behaviour change, ever since last night, but you figured it was something he’d bring up to you if he wanted to talk about it, so you haven’t paid much thought to it. 
lando’s made his to you, stevie’s small hand in his, and his other one on the box. his chest felt like it was getting smaller and smaller with each step he took towards you. the only thing that calmed him down was your smile while looking at them both. 
you watched as stevie let go and ran towards you, yet quickly swerved to find where theo was. your eyes followed her to see that she wouldn’t run into any trouble, and when you turned back around, you saw a nervous lando. “you okay?” you nervously laugh. “you’ve been weird all day today.” 
“there’s so many things i could say to you right now, but i think it’s better to save them for our vows.”
“vow- what?” you furrow your brows. that’s when he sinks down to one knee and you feel your eyes well up with tears.
he took a breath, a small smile adorning his face, and then the words you had dreamed of hearing, ever since you were a little girl, left his mouth.
“will you marry me?”
࿐ ࿔*:・ wedding day
you watched the on-going bustle of guests from the window of your lonesome dressing room.
the echoing sound of your heart pounding against your sternum was loud in your head as you tried to steady your breathing. this was actually, really happening. 
you felt your hands shake with how nervous you were, albeit having practiced your vows in the mirror for the past two months, and knowing that lando is truly the one you wish to spend the rest of your life with. 
your feet drag you across the hardwood floor of the dressing room, fingers nervously fiddling with one of the more textured parts of your dress. you could feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the clock on the wall ticked by, each second granting you a moment more of anxiety and stress. 
your head whips towards the door when a knock echoes through the empty room. “uhm, who is it?” 
the door pries open to reveal a curly head of hair with a hand over his eyes. “me, may i come in?” 
“what the hell, no?!” you exclaim, panicking. “it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the ceremony, we talked about this.” 
despite your best efforts to verbally usher him out, lando makes his way inside and shuts the door behind him, his eyelashes resting atop his cheeks as the green of his irises stay hidden behind eyelids. 
“i know, i know,” he sighs in defeat. “but i just had to come see you before the ceremony. well, not see you, exactly, but just, be in your presence, i guess.” 
you drop your arms by your sides, sulking a little. “i’m so nervous, lan,” lando could hear your pout and it made him smile. 
“i know, me too,” he makes his way over to where he thinks you are and reaches a hand out to find the cusp of your waist. he can feel the fabric of the dress as it sits atop your skin, a smirk forming on his lips. “feels pretty.”
“hey, no!” you swat his hand away. “i’ll run away from the wedding if you do that again.”
“oh, c’mon,” he defends, smiling underneath his palm. his eyes were still shut and his left hand covered them tightly, not a single space left between his fingers to ensure that he couldn’t get even a glance. “i don’t even get a feel?” 
“not even a feel,” you cross your arms over your chest and realised he can’t see your sassiness like he usually would. “i just crossed my arms, by the way.”
“i know,” lando shrugs. “i also know you’ve been staring out the window and ogling at people like a psycho.”
you furrow your brows, “how’d you know that?”
“cause i know you.” 
a shiver runs down your spine and you can’t help but blush at what lando says, even after close to three years of being together. “what did you really come here for?”
“a good luck kiss?” he asks, so soft and hopeful, that it makes you give in. lando feels your hands gently guiding his face down towards yours, before your lips softly rest against his. he, of course, tries to kiss you like usual– aggressive, long and sweet. 
yet you pull away before he can even think of pulling you in by the chin. “the better kiss is for the ceremony, babe,”
he sighs and drops his shoulders, his head dropping as he displays faux disappointment. “fine, whatever. saying you hate me would hurt less.”
“yeah, because i hate you so much that both me and my daughter are taking your last name,” you roll your eyes. 
“our daughter,” his voice is stern when he corrects you. lando hears a noise outside the door, suddenly alert and tense. “i think it’s almost time.”
you take one last peek out the window and notice everyone in their seats. “oh, god, yeah. go, you can’t be seen here.”
“alright, love you, see you out there” he turns around and reaches for the door. “pretend i winked at you when i said ‘see you out there’, cause i couldn’t actually wink an-“
“lando, go!” you step closer to him, your dress whispering beneath you as your hands gently urge him to leave. 
“one more kiss?” he suddenly turns back around and you roll your eyes. 
“you’re impossible,” you cup his face again.
“so i’ve been told,” he smirks against your lips. “and yet you’re marrying me, mrs. norris.”
“i wouldn’t have it any other way,” you place another peck against his pursed lips before the door shuts in front of you, and you’re left alone with your thoughts, again. 
you stand there for a moment, heart racing and palms sweating, yet still you were feeling more certain than ever that this was the best decision you ever could’ve made.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
the ceremony has long passed and now you are in the middle of the dance floor, your hands held with theo. 
the young boy expressed that he didn’t want to dance anymore, so you brought him to the table where his plate sits. on it, of course, are the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets you and lando specifically requested for theo to have. 
your kids were now six and five, both very unique and yet somehow very similar. 
theodore maxwell norris was a smart boy, interested in pretty much anything to do with dinosaurs, space or monster trucks. he requested to spend his sixth birthday at a museum, which stevie was absolutely thrilled with. the two young children had always known how to entertain each other, ever since they met. 
stephanie jane norris, albeit a year younger than theo, was also quite smart for her age. she found interest in princesses, nature and most recently, karting. she accompanied theo to multiple of his races and took part in some practice laps, and found that it’s actually more fun than she remembered. 
your eyes caught a glimpse of lando as he danced with stevie on the dance floor, the little girl actively shaking her head to a rock song and lando laughing at her with max. the girl then grabbed both of them by the hand and started dancing in a circle, in turn bringing a smile to your face. 
“y/n?” theo poked your arm to catch your attention. you look down at him as he’s sat on the chair, eyes glaring up to yours. “do i have to call you mum now?” 
you kneel down to be his height and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” 
the little boy just shrugs before taking another chicken nugget off of his plate, “okay, mum.”
you felt your heart swell and eyes well with tears at the fact that he so casually called you mum. you had imagined that it’d take at least a few more years of getting more comfortable with you for that to happen, but the boy saw no reason not to call you that. stevie called lando dad, anyway, so it only seemed fair in his eyes.
what theodore failed to realise was that, without even knowing it, he managed to make extra room in your heart and build a pillow fort there, in which he and stevie resided. you had convinced yourself that stevie would be your only true love in this world, that you didn’t need to meet anyone or have more kids.
it’s funny how a man and his son could waltz their way into your life, and turn it around for the better. 
theo felt you place a gentle kiss to his head before you excused yourself to go dance with his dad. in the meanwhile, stevie had made her way behind theo and scared him. 
“don’t do that, stevie,” theodore warns before picking up his apple juice box and taking a few gulps. 
the girl shifts her weight from her heels to her toes. “sorry, theo. do you want to dance?” 
“can i be a dancing t-rex?” he asked, an eyebrow rising with curiosity. 
stevie giggled. “only if i can be your sister t-rex. let’s go!”  
he watched as you ran back towards the dance floor, his face still evidently confused as he mumbled to himself, “i thought she already was my sister?” 
࿐ ࿔*:・゚interview about max fewtrell’s wdc
“theo! daddy’s on tv!” stevie’s voice echoed through the living room and theo came rushing in with a bowl of popcorn, as if the interview was some sort of movie.
you were sandwiched between the two kids, the bowl strategically placed in your lap so they don’t have to strain too much to get their snack. 
the television screen showed a clear shot of lando and max chatting, lando’s arm wrapped around his best friend’s shoulders as he congratulated him again. 
the interviewer— theo had informed you that he was a retired formula one driver, nico rosberg— invited them in to chat and all three of you eagerly watched, waiting for them to start talking. 
“lando! what a pleasant surprise to see you here,” his german, or maybe british, accent echoed in the living room. “haven’t seen you here since you left the sport.”
“yeah, y’know,” lando flashed his wide, toothy grin, “life had other plans.” 
“yeah?” nico tilted his head to the side. “how’s your family? your son doing okay?”
lando pointed at the camera next to them. “they’re watching from our home back in england,” he turns his face towards the lens and waves at it. “hi guys.”
stevie and theo eagerly wave back. “hi dad!” they say, in unison, before breaking into a fit of giggles. 
lando continued talking about personal matters, trying his best not to get too into it. he knew how the media was, and you had already had some encounters with less than pleasant fans. 
finally, as nico was ready to wrap up the interview, he asked lando if there was anything he missed from his racing days. 
“honestly? no.” he shrugged. “i think quitting opened up a plethora of new opportunities for me, including growing my own little family. my wife and i are blessed to have each other and raise our daughter and sons.”
“sons?” nico furrows his brows. he lowers the microphone away from their faces and leans in cautiously. “i thought you had only theo?” 
theo looks up at you. “you’re pregnant?” 
“i’m going to have another brother? awesome!” stevie jumped up on the couch, and your fingers found the bridge of your nose to pinch, in search of any comfort. 
lando panicked. “i, uhm, max did great. he’s much stronger and tougher than he lets on, and maybe we should let the champion talk, yeah?” he blurted out all in one breath as he grabbed max by the shoulders and pulled him towards nico. max shook his head with confusion before turning towards the interviewer. 
little did he know his best friend just announced your pregnancy to the entire world. 
࿐ ࿔*:・ mother’s day
“mum!” 
you heard their fragile little voices from behind your closed bedroom door and tried your best to sit up, your pregnant belly making it that much harder to function. 
you’ve been on bedrest for the past week, and it’s been absolutely amazing getting to rest, but so boring. what does one do when forced to stay in bed all day? 
stevie and theo knew the answer.
“could we make mother’s day cards for mum?” theo asked lando over breakfast, just as he was making your oatmeal with berries.
the curly-haired man shrugged. “sure, but you only have until tomorrow morning.”
“ooh! and can we get her heart balloons and flowers?” stevie muffled, as she finished up the last bites of her pancake.  
“we don’t speak with our mouths full, love,” lando warns. “but yes, we can also get her balloons and flowers. you guys think she’ll like that?” 
“and a kiss from dad,” stevie giggled before hopping off her chair and making her way to the dish washer. lando shook his head with a laugh. 
in the very crack of morning, while all of you were sound asleep, lando had gone to the grocery store to buy all the necessities— red roses, self care items, some sweets and, of course, heart balloons, as per stevie’s instructions. 
when the kiddos woke up and when lando had made sure you were awake as well, they made their way to the master bedroom. 
their small hands knocked a rhythm onto the door before they heard your silent “come in!” 
your face lit up with a smile when your three favourite people made their way into the bedroom. “happy mother’s day!” the three of them smiled at you and lando pouted when he saw your eyes well with tears.
you soundlessly said “hormones” before stretching your arms out to bring both of your little loves into a hug.  
stevie presented you her card first. “it’s us! and we’re on an air balloon. and that’s baby.” 
she pointed her little fingers at the five figures on the page— you were holding hands with lando and next to you stood your three children. the newborn baby was in a stroller, which you took as a sign that stevie hopes your son will be here soon. 
next it was theo’s turn. he gave you the card without saying anything, instead offering you another hug when tears spilled down your cheeks as you read it. stars live in space and also in you! happy mother’s day. scribbled in the cutest six year old writing you’ve ever read. 
lando later explained that theo had watched a video about there, supposedly, being stardust in everyone’s blood, which made you even more emotional.
“thank you, my loves,” you hugged them all once again before lando made his way over to give you a kiss and the flowers. 
“thank you for being the best wife and mother to my kids that i could have asked for.”
࿐ ࿔*:・゚where it all began.
baby noises and giggles fill your living room as you try to set up the camera to the best of your abilities. 
“theo, honey, could you hold henry more towards the middle?” you ask as you press your eye to the viewfinder eyepiece to check what the photo would look like. 
stevie sat on the left side of the sofa, an empty space left on the edge for you, as your newest addition— a six month old boy named henry parker norris— was snuggled between her and theo, with lando on the far right edge. 
“babe, just set it to video and come sit,” lando said, a little annoyed by how long the whole process is taking. “henry’s getting fussy.” 
“he’s okay, lan,” you roll your eyes. “and this is going in stevie’s scrapbook, so it needs to be perfect.”
it’s a few more minutes before you finally sit down and wait for ten seconds before you hear the click of your camera. after close inspection, you realise that stevie was making a weird face, lando was mid-blink, your hair looked a mess and theo was looking at henry. 
a sigh of defeat escapes your lips right as your front door opens and in comes pietra. “oh my god, thank god you’re here.” you exclaim, as if you hadn’t invited her for coffee, and she looks at you with a confused smile. “can you help with family photos?” 
she nodded and, without hesitation, followed you back to the living room. pietra stood behind the camera on the not-so-stable tripod and ordered you all around before snapping a few pictures. her logic was that if you take enough pictures in a set amount of time, at least a few of them are going to turn out good. 
and, after inspecting the pictures closely once more and deciding that they’re better than just good, you give her a hug and slump into it. “thank you, i was beginning to lose hope of making her a good scrapbook spread for her birthday.” 
pietra laughed. “she’s lucky to have such a hard-working mum, so i doubt she’d mind. but i’m happy to help!” 
after giving him the green light, lando helped the kids change and took care of henry’s feeding and diaper before packing them all up for a walk. “we’ll go make dinner while you two take my little man on a walk, sound good?”
you nodded and gave him a soft peck, and pietra followed you out to the front yard. both of you watched as lando, stevie and theo walked towards the car, on their way to the grocery store, while little henry waited for you, snug in his stroller. 
“i never imagined it,” pietra started. “lando being a dad to more than just theo, i mean. it suits him.” 
“yeah?” you turn your head towards her, a small and proud smile on your face as your fingers softly wrapped around the handle of the stroller. “i never imagined finding anyone else as important as stevie was to me. like i didn’t know my heart could expand enough to fit more than just her in there, y’know.” 
“yeah,” she nodded, following you as you made your way towards one of your favourite places in the world. “i mean, i guess that makes sense since you were each other’s biggest love for three years.”
“yeah, but now she’s a lot more loving to lando than me” a laugh leaves your lips. the chilly spring air caressed your cheeks as you pushed the beige coloured stroller. your little newborn lay peacefully in it, little eyes curiously wandering around. 
he was barely six and a half months old, but already so attentive, responsive and curious, and looked just like stevie when she was this age. he was a peaceful baby so far— not much fussing during the day and he slept well at nights. on the few occasions that he didn’t, lando would be up in a flash to take care of your little henry’s needs.
it was endearing to watch him explore fatherhood with three kids now, as opposed to when it was just him and theo. you admired how sweet he was with stevie while explaining why he does what he does when changing diapers or fixing bottles, or how he intently listened to theo’s explanation on how to properly burp a baby. 
“is this the place?” pietra nudged her chin at the playground that’s slowly coming more into view. it’s a little more worn now– the paint had chipped off the bars where theo used to pretend he was a monkey on, and the slide had little divots, yet it used to be smooth and barely worn out when stevie used to insist on taking it backwards, with her belly to the metal.
it brought back some nostalgia to when you first met lando. it was on the very same bench that pietra was sitting on right now. you watched the playground with a small smile on your lips, a tear threatening to spill from your eye.
henry fussed in the stroller and immediately calmed down when you placed a gentle hand on his tummy to steady him. “we’re at the playground. you’ll get to play here with your brother and sister when you’re a little older.”
pietra silently watched as you picked him up and gently laid his cheek to rest on yours, his little eyes adjusting to the light around him. henry looked around, the plethora of colours elicited a few excited ooh’s from his little body. “this is where i met your dada,” you smiled at henry. 
henry cooed as you pointed to things at the playground and explained each ones significance. you knew he didn’t understand it yet, but you were willing to tell him the story over and over again. it was the biggest twist of fate you had ever experienced– that very morning, stevie had begged you to finally take a walk since it had been too cold for months now, and you agreed.
if you had been just a little more careful and told her to wait another day, week or month, chances are you wouldn’t be holding your baby while your husband made dinner at home with your other two kids. 
pietra perked up when you walked over to her and she immediately extended her hands to take henry from you. “come to auntie p,” she baby talked as you handed her your son. “he has a nose just like lando’s.”
“he has the neck strength like lando’s, too.” you sit down beside her and closely watch as she gently bounced henry on her knees. just then, you blurted something that had been on your mind for a while. “do you think it’s weird that lando and i are together?”
“excuse me?” she turns to you with a confused face. “why would anyone think that?”
“i don’t know, i mean, like…” you take a second to collect your thoughts. it was starting to sound like you were regretting this life, meanwhile it was the complete opposite. “like the way we met, it was random.”
“it’s not random, love,” pietra rolls her eyes. “it’s something called fate.”
henry let out a happy noise at your question, his tiny fingers reaching out to poke at pietra’s face. “you agree, huh, lil’ man?” she asks as he pushes his whole hand to her cheek, and you can’t help but laugh at the unfolding scene in front of you.
after a few moments, when henry was back in his stroller and you two were on your way back home, you looked back to the area behind you with a sentimental look in your eye. “who knew playgrounds and playdates would bring me the loveliest life i could’ve imagined?”
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
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frenchkisstheabyss · 13 days ago
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♡ art deco ♡
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♡ Pairing: roommate!hyunjin x chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: smut/fluff
♡ Summary: You and Hyunjin are roommates, nothing more...and that's alright. At least that's what you tell yourselves. You've survived the last year by pretending you don't want each other, telling yourselves that the other's not interested. Your delusion's fully intact when Hyunjin catches you up late one night working on a project. He offers to help you research your subject, deepen your knowledge so to speak, but there's much more to it than that.
♡ Word Count: 4k-ish
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♡ Warnings: playful teasing, use of an aphrodisiac, hyunjin can get a lil bossy, jealous hyunjin, making out, finger licking, nipple play, dry humping, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), pussy drunk hyunjin, things get very wet, fingering, clit play, low key body worship, a lil manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, marking, creampie, they're both quite needy, overstimulation, pet names (baby, sweetie, good girl, pretty girl).
♡ A/N: Hello my darlings. So this fic is a request that's a part of my 3.4k follower celebration which you can find on my page if you wanna put a request in! Thank you to @owlbeforsunrise for requesting this and for being so genuinely supportive of me with my writing. Love you so much xoxo
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Procrastination. It’s your worst enemy. You had weeks to get this project done but it was always one thing or another and before you knew it the clock was counting down. Now it’s half past midnight and you’re stationed at your kitchen table, legs kicked up and a sketch pad in your lap.
The subjects of your current drawing are nestled in a medium sized wooden bowl, swirls of mahogany dancing in harmony with the collection of glistening pomegranates resting within. Pressing the button on the side of your headphones, you skip to the next song, humming along as it picks up, your colored pencil scratching away all the while. 
Hyunjin thinks you’re cute like this. With your messy hair and mismatched pajamas. You’re running on the last bit of an iced Americano and feel like absolute death but to him you couldn’t be cuter. He knows that even from behind. It’s not nice for roommates to sneak up on each other but you and Hyunjin never quite got around to the whole “setting boundaries” thing. 
Resting a hand on the back of your chair, Hyunjin leans over your shoulder, lifting one of your earphones to whisper, “Boo.” 
You jump a bit but immediately still yourself, readjusting in your seat to play it off. “Boo yourself” you huff, refusing to look in his direction.
“Scared ya?” he asks, grinning at the defiant look on your face. He was mistaken when he thought you couldn’t get cuter. You’re much cuter when you’re mad. 
You turn to him, lips tight, eyes narrowed, “Don’t you have something better to do? Drink cement? Chew glass?”
His smiling face hovers only an inch from yours, even less when he leans in closer, his gaze dancing over your features. Sometimes when Hyunjin looks at you it’s like being under a microscope. With him no glance is passive. Everything feels like it means something, like he’s studying you, and you can’t stand it. The heat behind those brown eyes is so casual, so effortless, that it’s intimidating in ways you could never bring yourself to admit. And now’s not the time for it. 
You roll your eyes, snapping your attention back to your drawing. “Why are you up anyway?”  
Hyunjin lingers a moment, a photographer taking one last shot of a precious thing, before making his way to the fridge. “I don’t know” he shrugs, an arm draped across the open door as he takes in his options, “Just couldn’t sleep I guess. Too much to worry about.”
You pause your music, jaw hung in shock, “Hwang Hyunjin? Worried? What about?” 
He drops his shoulders, responding with a pained groan, “You know I hate when you call me that.”
“I know” you giggle, doing a little dance with your shoulders, “That’s why I call you that. So, what’s up? Come share with the class.”
Grabbing a bottle of soda, he flings the fridge door closed, and turns to face you, unamused. He contemplates telling you, you can almost see the idea floating around that head of his. He could tell you what he was thinking about. It’d only take a sentence to tell you how one of his best friends texted him earlier asking if you were single. It’d only take another to confess how jealous that left him, how he’s been spiraling ever since, but instead he pops the soda open, gulping down the fizzy drink and any possibilities of a confession right along with it. 
“So, why are you drawing pomegranates?”
You click your tongue, lips curving into a smile, “Why are you deflecting?” 
Hyunjin grabs for your sketch pad and you tighten your grip around the corner of the book but it’s no use, it’s already his. “Is this some new fruit fixation or…”
“It’s not a fruit fixation. It’s for one of my classes. Human Sexuality and the Arts” you say, twinkling your fingers to make it seem fancy. 
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, glancing over at the bowl of fruit and back to you. “And what does that have to do with human sexuality? Were people, you know?” 
He does a light humping motion, your sketch pad propped up at his hip. You snatch it back, refusing to let him violate your art in such a way. “No. People weren’t fucking the pomegranates!” you shout, hitting him with the book, “The ancient Greeks thought that pomegranates were an aphrodisiac. They associate it with the goddess Aphrodite. Some people even say that the forbidden fruit in the Bible was a pomegranate, not an apple.” 
You light up when you speak, you always do when it comes to your art, and Hyunjin can’t help but admire everything about it. The way your brain works, what it manages to create, is almost as beautiful as you are. Just almost.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask, catching onto that starry eyed gaze. 
Hyunjin shakes it off, switching modes like a classically trained actor. “Because you’re just so…” he trails off, thinking up the word, “Painfully nerdy.” 
“Oh, fuck you!” you laugh, flipping him off, “Forgive me for doing my research.” 
He blows you a kiss, making your heart flutter against your will. “Research, huh?” he asks, picking up a pomegranate. He juggles it in his hand, feeling the weight of it, “So you must’ve tried it then.”
“Tried what?”
“Pomegranates. You said they were an aphrodisiac. Ancient Greeks, goddesses, forbidden fruit, all that. How do you know it’s not bullshit?”
You chew at your inner lip, the tail of your pencil tapping away at the page, “I guess I don’t.” 
“Then why don’t we try it?” he asks, presenting you with the fruit. 
You stare at it for a moment, taking it in like it’s some alien thing. You look up at him, your temperature rising at his sudden closeness to you. You’d be a liar if you said you never wondered what it’d be like to have him standing over you like this, that handsome face staring back down at you, but in none of those fantasies was he holding groceries. 
“And by ‘try it’ you mean what exactly?”
You watch as he heads over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a plate from one of the cabinets above before he slides a knife from the block near the sink. With a few swipes of glimmering steel, the pomegranate’s left in four perfect pieces. Placing the knife down, he picks one up, turning back to you. “Come here.”
“No…” you sigh, popping your headphones back on. You have a deadline to meet. There’s no time to spare for his nonsense. 
“Come here” he repeats, his voice laced with a certain sweetness. The kind that makes you fold for him every time. 
You toss your headphones onto the table, your art supplies following close behind as you rise from your seat, bare feet dragging across the cool tile floor. You grab a slice of pomegranate, raising it to your lips before an unexpected hesitation takes hold of you and you toss it away. 
Hyunjin leans against the counter, vexed by your reaction, “What? You think I poisoned it?”
“No, it’s just…you first” you insist, hoping to distract him and yourself from the nerves bubbling up inside you. 
“Me first?”
“Yes, you first. It was your idea so you eat it first.”
He clears his throat, standing up straight so that his tall figure seems even more impressive. Two steps bring him closer to you, his toes right on the edge of touching yours as he brings the fruit to his mouth. His plush rosy lips close around it, his dexterous tongue working the fleshy seeds free of the rind. Scarlet juice drips from the corners of his mouth, riding the sharp contour of his jaw to coat his chin. You’re drawn in by how delicately his mouth works against it. Something about it is so sensual, far more sensual than you’re sure he intends it to be. 
Your body doesn’t care one way or another. Intent means nothing to your quickening pulse or to the warmth creeping its way to the lower half of your body. You don’t even notice you’re holding your breath until his mouth pulls away from the rind and you exhale like you’ve been underwater for an eternity. 
“Now you’re the one staring at me like that” he laughs, disposing of the rind on the plate. “Something on my face?” 
Instinctively you bring your fingers to his chin, wiping the juices away, “Actually, yes. Didn’t know you were such a messy eater.” 
“I thought some girls liked that” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 
You swallow hard, your hands trembling barely enough to notice. Only Hyunjin does. Taking you by the wrist, he presses your fingertips to his lips, your touch feather light. You still as his tongue darts out, its wet warmth tracing the shape of your fingers. His eyes never leave yours as he does it. He wants to see how you react, how you feel, and you don’t disappoint. Your legs are shaking, soft thighs rubbing together in shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. The friction is heavenly, soothing the throbbing between your legs and making it much much worse all at once. 
“Is it working?” you ask, your voice cracking under the weight of a question you already know the answer to. 
Hyunjin lets out a chuckle from somewhere deep within his throat, his breath skimming your palm as his lips chart a path along your arm. Every kiss is electric. The tingling left behind at each point of contact gives you goosebumps. Ghosting over the sleeve of your loose fitting tee, his lips find yours, cautiously waiting as near to them as they can be without touching. You’re two magnets, the attraction between you too intense to ignore. All that holds you back are yourselves, your very cells vibrating at the need for connection. 
“Your turn” he whispers, breaking the spell to give you enough room to breathe. As if you ever could under the circumstances. 
You reach over, picking a slice of pomegranate up, fragile as a bomb. This is silly, you think to yourself. Hyunjin’s right. It’s not like it’s poison. You dive in, clearing the rind in a hurry, and flashing Hyunjin a look that says, “What now?” 
What now? Now is the force of his mouth colliding with yours, the sweet, tangy juices lingering on your tongue for only a second before his own tongue’s snaking between your lips to drink it down and you along with it. You tense at first. Not quite resisting. Not quite surrendering. But when his hands find your figure, palms riding the hills of your curves, you crumble. 
A year of living together. A year of playful flirting. A year of words spoken and words not. All of it is poured into a kiss that could shatter worlds. Without question it shatters yours. You never imagined that Hyunjin’s feelings for you could be mutual but the hunger he kisses you with leaves nothing to be questioned. 
“I think it’s working” he says, a breathless taunt against your lips. 
You grab onto his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric as he grips the back of one of your pillowy thighs, raising your knee to rest at his side. “I hate you” you whimper when he presses into you, the growing bulge in his sweatpants teasing your core. There’s no denying how wet you are. The need soaking through the cotton of your panties is more than enough evidence of that. 
It only worsens when he strays from the kiss, leaning into your neck to whisper, “You hate me?” His tone is playful with a hint of something darker. He’s daring you to lie when you both know the truth. “How much do you hate me? Enough to make me stop when I do this?” His fingers dig into the supple flesh of your ass, grinding you against him, and you tremble, your moans as light as your next breath.
“Or this?” Spinning you around, Hyunjin slams you back into the counter, his lips latching onto your neck to feel your pulse race beneath his tongue. He suckles harshly at the skin, the sharpness of his kiss balanced by the ecstasy of his clothed cock rubbing your clit.
This wasn’t the plan. When he stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes barely open, he expected to find a late night snack. What he found instead was you. Something he wanted infinitely more than anything this kitchen could offer. He can’t remember ever needing something so badly that it hurts. His cock straining against his pants is nothing short of torture. It aches for you and only you. 
“Hyunjin, just…aaah” you whine, arching as he sneaks a hand under your shirt, touching your naked skin for the first time. 
He massages your belly, your side, all the way up to your swollen breast that fits in his hand with the perfection of something made to be there. He captures your bud between his fingers, his pointer and index pinching it with just enough pressure to send more of those delicious moans pouring from you. 
“Just…what, sweetie?” he asks, pulling back from your neck with a pop. His lips float back up to yours and that’s where they wait, eager for your next words. 
You can barely form them when he’s throbbing against your drenched pussy, your panties and shorts too wet to make a bit of difference. His fingers tighten around your nipple, playing you like a finely tuned instrument, and you sing for him just the way he wants. 
“Just…just…” you stutter, your hold on his shirt threatening to tear it, “Just fuck me already if you’re gonna do it.” 
You’re both taken back by your directness, the shock doing away with whatever last bit of pretending that lived between you. Hyunjin kisses you again, the passion burning just as hot as the first time, grabbing you by the waist to guide you somewhere you can’t see.
Everything’s dark. The only light you see are the sparks twinkling behind your lids, the kiss pulling you in so that nothing else matters. It’s only when you feel the edge of the kitchen table press into your ass that you remember where you are. 
“Clothes off” he demands, the hem of your shirt already knotted in his fists, “I wanna see you.” 
Your shirt disappears and your immediate reaction is to bring your arms around yourself, shielding yourself from his sight, but Hyunjin peels them away, the awe in his expression quieting your fears. “Oh god, you’re so beautiful” he gasps, slipping your shorts down to reveal your figure in its full glory.
Your panties come down with them, discarded at your feet, leaving you exposed. Hyunjin lifts you onto the table, a hand coasting along your inner thigh to spread your legs open. His gaze falls below your waist and he’s instantly mesmerized by the slickness of your gorgeous pussy. 
He runs his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal, watching your stiff clit twitch from the faintest touch. “Didn’t know you’d be this wet for me. Look at you…” He strokes your entrance, spreading you open and the way you leak onto the table makes his mouth water. “Is this an aphrodisiac too?”
Even in a haze of pleasure, you manage the most adorable giggle, “I don’t know. My books didn’t say anything about that.” 
“Let’s find out then, hmm?” Hyunjin doesn’t wait for your response. He dives right in, dropping to his knees, a devoted lover eager to worship his goddess. 
Your palms smack down on the table, your arms propped up on either side in a desperate attempt to keep yourself upright but it’s no use. Hyunjin’s tongue’s buried too deep within your walls, curling and flicking as he messily slurps down your essence. Your arms are slipping out from under you. The quaking of your body’s too much to control.
Hyunjin slides his hands up to your lower back, cradling you as your back meets the surface below. You shake, maybe from the chill—maybe from his nose bumping your clit, your pussy clenching around his tongue each time. 
“Mmm, tastes so good…” he groans, pulling you closer so that your ass dangles right on the edge of the table, “Can’t stop, fuck, I can’t…”
The slurping noises are borderline obscene, his mouth spread open to taste every part of you. The tip of his tongue swirls through your smooth, velvety folds, teasing your entrance with the slightest stretch before drawing figure eights up to your clit.
It makes every bit of sense in the world now how he got that pomegranate down so quickly. His tongue moves with expert precision, knowing just what to do to achieve exactly what he wants and right now what he wants is for you to keep moaning. Keep trembling. Keep raising your hips to meet the heat of his mouth, riding every wave of pleasure and oh so needy for the next. 
“Jinnie…” you moan, his short hair tickling your palm as you pet the back of his head. 
“Jinnie?” he laughs, applying kitten licks to your pussy between every word spoken, “You only call me that when you want something. You want something, baby?”
“Mmhmm” you nod, still raising your hips for more.
And Hyunjin gives it to you, sinking two fingers into your warmth and seeking out the sweet spot previously discovered by his tongue. The sound you make when he finally hits it is like music to his ears, his cock throbbing from how desperately it wishes it were the one responsible for it.
Hyunjin’s fingers pick up speed, coaxing out a stream of broken moans, “Tell me what you want from Jinnie. Anything for you.” He spreads his fingers wide, stretching you open as his lips latch onto your clit once more.
“Mmm, so close, wanna come for you…” you confess, making the terrible mistake of glancing between your legs.
Hyunjin’s eyes await yours, the lust behind them worsening the pressure building within you. “Then do it. Come for me. Let me taste you” he urges, his fingers abandoning you to let his tongue fill the space.
Your head falls back, your lush breasts jutting out with every rise and fall of your chest. You hook your legs around his shoulders and he grabs onto your thighs, keeping you right where you are. Squirming, whining, begging him not to stop as your orgasm tears through you leaving you speechless.
All you can do is lay there, completely at his mercy, gushing down his chin and helpless to stop his pursuit of more. The taste of you is addictive, so addictive that he can’t pry himself away. Not even when you attempt to twist yourself free, weakly pushing his head back. He’s not done until he says he is. Not until he’s lapped up every last drop. 
“You’re trying to kill me” you pout, managing to turn onto your side. 
Hyunjin tilts his head, keeping his mouth on you, refusing to give up those last few licks. When he finally drags himself away from you, his chest is heaving, and a haze of bliss hangs over him. The same one that hangs over you, weighing you down to the table.
You couldn’t get up if you wanted to and Hyunjin won’t give you the chance. Grabbing you by the waist, he flips you onto your stomach, the impact sending your nearby art supplies tumbling to the floor. 
“I’m not trying to kill you, pretty girl” he grins, tugging his shirt over his head, “Not yet.” 
It’s a subconscious thing, poking your ass up at him like you are. You don’t mean to drive him crazy but you do and he can’t finish stripping down fast enough, breathing a sigh of relief when his cock springs free from his boxers. He rubs the head against your entrance and your walls are already fluttering, wanting nothing more than to suck him in.
There’s a twinge in his chest, at the sight of you stretching around him as he presses into you, and he can’t go any further. Everything’s been happening so fast that it’s just hitting him that this is all real. This is happening.
Propping yourself up on your elbows, you turn to look back at him, your expression heavy with concern. “We don’t have to if you don’t…”
Hyunjin’s quick to cut you off, “No! I want to! It’s just…I’ve wanted you for so long and I never thought that I could have you.”
You smile, warm and comforting, “Well you can have me. I’m all yours. You just have to take me. Take me, Jinnie.”
Nothing else needs to be said for him to thrust into you, your heads spinning from the euphoria of your bodies finally meeting. “Aah, fuck, you’re so tight baby” he hisses, slowly rocking in and out of you. He can feel you adjusting to his size, your walls reveling in his thickness as his tip kisses your cervix only to tighten right back up when he dares to pull out a little too far.
He runs a hand along your back, tracing the curve of your spine with his fingertips. You shouldn’t be this beautiful. You shouldn’t take him this well. It’s not fair what you do to him. How hard you make his cock pulse, your pussy already leaving him drenched down to the base. 
And you’re faring no better. Your senses are dominated by the sensation of every thrust, his tip beating against your g-spot with every thrust. It’s the kind of pleasure you can feel tingling your toes and ghosting your fingertips. You can taste it on your tongue. It vibrates in every fiber of your being.
Hyunjin’s hips snap into you harder, the moisture between you sending a lewd slapping sound pinging off the walls of the kitchen. It makes your body jiggle, your ass bouncing back onto him, and he feels so completely enveloped by you that he has to do it again. And again, harsher, faster, his hold on your hips unyielding, dominating your every move. 
The banging of the kitchen table against the wall is more than enough for a noise complaint but your moans? You’re crying out like no one can hear you—every fractured syllable of his name bleeding through the walls into the apartment next door—but it’s nothing you can control. Nothing you want to control.
Hyunjin dips an arm under you, two fingers caressing your clit, and the muscles in your body pull tight, your eyes beginning to water from the overstimulation. You think you might cry if he keeps going but you know you’ll cry if he stops. You’ll throw a tantrum, kicking and screaming, because this is all you want in the world. He has to keep going. Keep pushing you further and further beyond your limits.
“Aah! Oh fuck!” you scream, grabbing onto the edge of the table, nails scraping the wood. Your hips stutter, unable to keep their rhythm, and Hyunjin knows you’re close again. 
Leaning forward, he decorates your back with kisses, uttering praises that chip away at your resolve. “Come again for me, my beautiful girl. No holding back. Let go for me.”  
Just like that you feel light, like your body holds no weight at all. Everything’s soft and fluffy, the most gentle it’s ever been, then all at once you feel all of it. The intensity’s beyond anything that was building before and you’re coming down your thighs, drenching the fingers that frantically work your clit.
“That’s it. Good girl” he coos, the knots in the pit of his own stomach tightening, ready to come undone. “You want me to pull out?”
He leans away but you reach behind you, grabbing him by the arm, “No…inside me.” 
Hyunjin takes you by both hands, interlocking his fingers with yours, and fucks iyou into the table, your pussy clinging to him, swallowing him in so far that he fears he might lose himself in you. If he bites down on his lip any harder he’ll break skin. Not that he could even notice. He’s too busy unraveling between your walls, thick ropes of cum painting you with their creamy white warmth.
There’s no telling how much time passes before he stops moving. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? But you’re both left trembling, your sweat slicked bodies still connected as you drift back down to earth, basking in the afterglow. 
You let out a squeak when he finally slips out of you, rolling onto your back to get more comfortable. Hyunjin positions himself between your legs, his arms caging you in on both sides as he leans in to plant a kiss on your lips. The taste of pomegranate has faded and now he tastes only of a flavor that’s distinctly you.
“See, I told you research was important” he gloats, his length teasing the sensitivity of your pussy. 
You shiver, cupping his face as you arch into him, “I mean, I guess but don’t get any more ideas. I still have a project due you know.”
Hyunjin cuts his eyes at the sketch pad scattered on the floor amidst a sea of colored pencils. “One second.”
He slips off of you and you sit up, crossing your legs, a silent observer as he carefully gathers your things for you. He hands them over with a pleased look on his face. “I can come to your room….help you finish.” 
You clutch your items close to your chest, not at all ignorant to the way his thumbs are stroking your thighs. “Help me finish in what way exactly? 
“Mmm…” he hums, the pad of his thumb just barely touching your clit, “You’ll just have to trust me.” 
“Trust you?” you laugh, hopping down from the table, “We’ll see about that.” You give him a peck on the lips, depriving him of something deeper. A small form of torture done fully on purpose. “Follow me. Oh and bring the plate just in case we have to do more, uh, research.”
Time seems to move in slow motion for Hyunjin as you walk off towards your room, your naked body breathtaking even in the shadows of the dimly lit hall. Backing up, he blindly retrieves the plate from the counter, his fingers skimming the fruit as he does so. 
“God bless the Greeks” he utters under his breath, his brain already running rampant with all the filthy things he wants to do to you tonight. He’s definitely gonna need more fruit.
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