#or why the last time i ordered something they gave me the wrong thing

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Thirty

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, strong language, time-skips, the absolute shit-show that was the first half of the 2023 season.

Notes — Amelia being McLaren's literal saviour? IKTR

2023 (Saudi Arabia — Silverstone)

The paddock in Bahrain had started to quiet down after qualifying, the desert heat finally slipping away into a cooler breeze. Amelia was walking through the paddock, steps quick and stride polished, muttering statistics under her breath and trying to burn off some extra energy before debriefs were due to begin.

“Amelia.”

She turned. Adrian stood just outside Red Bull’s motorhome, hands in his pockets, watching her with a thoughtful expression.

“Hi, Adrian,” she greeted, smiling politely at the man she’d once idolised who had become something more reminiscent of a friend over the last two years.

“Do you have a minute?” He asked.

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Sure.”

He gestured for them to walk a little away from the thinning crowds. “I’ve been wanting to speak with you since testing, but I figured it was better in person rather than on the phone.”

Amelia waited, quiet.

Adrian glanced toward the Red Bull garage, then back at her. “You have done something incredible,” he said. “The car — it’s… brutally efficient. Elegant, even. It’s the cleanest thing I’ve seen come out of our CFD pipeline in five years. Maybe longer.”

Amelia’s brow ticked up. “Thank you.”

He studied her for a moment, brow furrowed slightly. “So why did you leave, Amelia? You could’ve ridden that thing straight through another championship with Max. Earned the credit. The spotlight. A long, solid legacy.”

“I didn’t need to,” she said simply.

He blinked, thrown off. “Didn’t need to… win?”

“I didn’t need credit,” she clarified. “That was never the point. Max knows that this years car is ours — mine and his, in a way. You know, too. That’s enough for me.”

“You designed one of the most dominant aero concepts I’ve seen in a decade,” Adrian said, still incredulous. “And walked away before it even hit the track?”

Amelia nodded. Shrugged. “I didn't build the car for glory. I built it because I knew what it could be. And then I gave my concepts to you, so that you would make them happen, and you did.” She pursed her lips. “Max didn’t need me anymore. He knows how to handle a championship. He’s done it twice, now.”

“And McLaren does need you?” Adrian pressed.

“Yes,” she said. Smiled. “They do. Oscar too.”

Adrian looked at her like he was trying to understand a language he didn’t speak. Slowly, he said, “You’ve created a car that will be remembered for generations.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t care that you won’t get the credit?”

“No,” she said. “Doesn’t change what I did.”

There was a long silence, the dusk settling over them in a soft hush.

Adrian let out a slow breath, almost reverent. “I admire it, you know. Even if I don’t understand it.”

Amelia gave him the faintest smirk. “That’s okay. I’m not an easy person to understand.”

“No,” Adrian agreed. “But you’re very, very good.” He paused. “God, sometimes, Amelia, I wonder if maybe you’re better than me.”

“I might be. One day,” she said, and turned to go.

—

The debrief room was quiet, too quiet.

Oscar sat back in his chair, legs outstretched, eyes on the floor. His race suit was half-unzipped, his undershirt sweat-darkened at the collar. Amelia sat at the head of the small conference table, her iPad flat in front of her, her stylus spinning slowly between her fingers.

“Well,” Oscar said dryly. “That was shit.”

Amelia’s lips twitched. “You’re not wrong.”

He tilted his head. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course you can.” She frowned at him.

Oscar looked over at her, brow creased faintly. “You knew the car wasn’t going to be good this year. You warned me. So why did you still come back to McLaren?”

Amelia leaned back in her chair, thought about it, then shrugged. “Well, you were a big part of it.”

Oscar blinked at her.

“You needed somebody who was able to make the most of a bad situation,” she said. “Not someone who’d write it off before the lights went out. You’re better than the car right now. But the car won’t stay this way forever; I promise you that.”

Oscar was quiet for a moment. “Right. Thanks,” he said eventually, voice low.

“Don’t get sentimental,” Amelia said, flicking a button on her iPad. “We’re both going to be angry for a while, at least until I can fix this.”

He nodded, some of the stiffness leaving his shoulders. “Fine by me.”

She tapped through to the race data, then looked up. “Okay. So. Let’s talk lap one.”

Oscar squinted. “What was wrong with lap one?”

“You braked late into Turn 10. Just like you did in qualifying.”

“Maybe the corner needs to come sooner,” he muttered, deadpan.

Amelia rolled her eyes. “Maybe you just need more time in the sim.”

Oscar made a face. “If I spend any more time in it than you already make me do, I might merge with the chair.”

They dove into the telemetry together then — back and forth, sharp and focused, their language slowly becoming shorthand. She pointed out throttle traces, he challenged her on strategy calls. She fired back with sector deltas, he offered precise corner feedback.

By the time they were done, an hour had passed.

Oscar leaned back, drained but calmer. “You’re intense.”

“Yeah,” Amelia said, unapologetically. “I’m also right, most of the time.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You are.”

She packed up her iPad, stood, and gestured toward the door. “Come on, ducky,” she said. “My husband is probably pacing somewhere, lamenting about how shit his car is. We need to stop him before he spirals.”

Oscar made a face as he got to his feet. “I don’t like being ducky.”

Amelia shrugged, unconcerned. “Too bad. You are.”

He sighed. “Why can’t I just be Oscar?”

“You can,” she said simply. “But you’re ducky too. Both can be true.”

Oscar blinked at her, clearly expecting more of an explanation. Amelia paused in the doorway, tilting her head like she was debating whether to explain. Then she did — bluntly, honestly, in her Amelia way. “Nicknames are… structure,” she said. “They help me sort people. Feelings. Connections. If I nickname you, it means I’ve decided I trust you. It’s like… mental shorthand. Emotional filing.”

Oscar’s brow furrowed. “Like… categories?”

“Exactly,” she said, eyes lighting up slightly. “It’s not random. It means something. I call you ducky because you’re calm on the surface and all chaos underneath, and also because you look like someone who would fall asleep in a bathtub. And because I like you. You’ve earned it.”

He stared at her. “I… don’t know what to do with that.”

“You don’t have to do anything with it,” she said, already halfway down the hall. “Just know that it means I’ve put you in the ‘safe’ column.”

Oscar followed, a little dazed. “That’s a lot to attach to a duck.”

Amelia smiled to herself. “Also, my husband kept saying that I imprinted on you like a mother duck, so…”

They rounded the corner and found said husband, Lando, in the corridor, muttering to himself with a piece of tyre compound data pulled up on his phone.

Oscar pointed wordlessly.

Amelia just sighed. “See? Spiralling. I told you.” She stepped forward, nudged the phone down, and gently took her husband’s hand. “Hey,” she said. “You did well with what you had.”

Lando looked between the two of them, Amelia’s steady face, Oscar’s unreadable one, and let out a breath that was mostly a laugh. “We’re going to be fucking shit this year, aren’t we?” He asked.

Amelia sighed. “I hope not. I’m already trying to get my hands on the car, but the cost cap is preventing me from making any significant changes this early…”

Lando pouted at his wife.

“Pizza?” Oscar asked.

Amelia’s head snapped around in his direction. “Yes!”

Lando was still pouting when he said, “Sure. Yeah. Whatever. Depression pizza. Yay!”

—

The glass walls of the office reflected the glow of early evening. Outside, the MTC lake was still, pale with late-winter. Inside, Amelia sat at the head of the table with her knees drawn up in the chair, a pink, battered notebook open in front of her.

Andrea leaned in to look closer. “You did this all by hand?”

Amelia didn’t look up. “I think better with a pen and paper.”

Her dad, seated opposite her, turned a few pages. His brows rose as he scanned carefully drawn schematics, annotated calculations, wind tunnel projections, notes in tiny, slanted handwriting. Everything from ride height tweaks to theoretical suspension layouts to predicted competitor development trends.

“This is a full concept,” Andrea said, quietly impressed. “This is… years worth of work.”

“Just a few weeks,” Amelia said. “That’s not just theory in there, though. That’s a car.”

Zak sat back, flipping to the final page. It was labelled, in block capitals, with an underlined title.

PROJECT: MCL38-AN

Underneath, in her neat writing.

It’ll win if you trust it.

He looked up. “This will put us back on top?”

“I know it will,” Amelia said, finally meeting their eyes. “Everything I’ve learned — from Red Bull, from Max, from every telemetry graph and CFD failure and stupid porpoising issue in the last two years — I used it all. And not just to make something clever. To make something fast. Reliable. Adaptable.”

Andrea gently closed the notebook. “This is championship-level ambition.”

“It’s more than ambition,” Amelia said. “It’s your 2024 car. The notebook is yours now.”

Her dad raised his eyebrows. “You don’t want to keep it?”

She shrugged. “No. I won’t need it, but you will. I’ve already made a million copies, but I’d like you to keep the original.”

Her dad looked at her and reached for the notebook again with something like reverence. “We’re going to need to start assembling a team around this immediately.” He said.

“I already started,” she told him. “Tom in aero’s got preliminary CFD models. Jordan’s been mocking up rear suspension geometry in CAD for two weeks.”

Andrea laughed softly, almost disbelieving. “You went over our heads?”

“I’m not very good at leaving things to chance,” she said. “And our car this year is awful. So bad. I needed to start making something happen, even if most of it will have to wait until next year.”

Her dad stood and leaned across the table, hand on the notebook. “Honey, this is…”

“Yours. Ours.” She said.

Andrea let out a breath.

Her dad stared at her for a beat, and then he was beaming.

—

It was nearly midnight, and the MTC was mostly dark — save for the soft hum of light in the engineering wing. Amelia sat on the floor of her office, legs crossed, iPad glowing in her lap.

Oscar lay stretched out on the rug in front of her, still in his training kit, a protein shake abandoned next to him. Lando was in her desk chair, spinning gently, half-asleep and barefoot.

“This is the weirdest sleepover I’ve ever been to,” Oscar muttered.

“You say that every time you hang out with us,” Lando replied, yawning.

“I mean it every time.” Oscar said.

Amelia didn’t look up. “Shut up. I’m trying to change the trajectory of your entire careers right now.”

That got their attention.

Lando leaned forward. “What are you doing, baby?”

Amelia turned the iPad so they could both see the screen. Her voice was calm, even, but there was a thread of something bright underneath it. “This is going to be your 2024 car.”

Oscar blinked. “You—what?”

She tapped through a few screens: 3D renders, rear suspension models, aero flow maps. “Codename MCL38-AN. I told you both that I already had it planned out, didn’t I?”

Oscar sat up straighter. “You really think that’ll put us at the front of the grid?”

“Yes,” she said. “You’re driving scrap metal right now, I won’t lie. It’s holding you both back. But this car—” she tapped the image again “—this is what we’re building toward. This is the one. The team just needs time. I need time.”

Oscar was staring at the iPad, wide eyed. “You’re sure.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. All I need is for you to keep showing up. To keep believing. We’re not going to be at the back of the grid forever.”

Lando stood, walked over, and looked down at the designs for a long moment. “It’s beautiful,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“Why are you showing us now?”

“Because,” she said, glancing between them, “I can’t ask you to keep suffering through this season unless you have a reason. A future. This is your future. You’ll win races in this car.”

Oscar laughed, breathless and stunned. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Amelia said, finally smiling. “Holy shit.”

Lando slid down onto the floor beside her, shoulder brushing hers. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Us. This team. This sport.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Oscar pointed at the iPad again. “Can I name it?”

“No.” She said.

“Can I drive it now?” He asked.

“It doesn’t exist yet.” She told him.

“Then can I keep being your ducky?”

She looked at him, bemused. “You want to be ducky now?”

“I’m reconsidering my argument,” he muttered. “Out of loyalty…”

Lando was grinning. “We’re going to win championships, aren’t we?”

Amelia nodded. Smiled at her husband. Kissed him. “Yes. We are.”

—

They got back to Monaco well past midnight, Lando wordless beside her in the car. The race had been brutal. Another pointless race. Another weekend where the car hadn’t performed, and the looped back data had made her want to throw her laptop into the Red Sea.

But home was home.

Amelia dropped her bags in the entryway, kicked off her trainers, and walked straight to the kitchen, wordlessly opening the fridge. She fished out a can of Diet Coke and pressed it to her forehead.

Behind her, Lando wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"You gonna fire me?” He asked quietly.

She laughed despite the burning itch under her skin. “No. You did your best.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled against her neck.

They stood like that for a beat. Amelia breathed in the scent of his hoodie and let the familiar weight of him soothe the static in her chest. He was solid. Warm. Hers.

Finally, she turned around and kissed his jaw. “It’ll get better.”

Lando nodded. “Good. Because I’m getting real tired of seeing you more frustrated than smug.”

She cracked a smile. “I’m always smug.”

“There she is.”

—

Amelia didn’t cook often, but when she did, it was loud, chaotic, and always somewhat efficient.

Oscar sat at the breakfast bar, watching her with mild horror as she chopped onions at a blinding speed.

“You’re a very violent chef,” he observed.

“The quicker it’s done, the better,” she said. “Now pass me the basil, ducky.”

He handed it over. “Still don’t particularly like being called that.”

“Don’t care.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Do you want red or white wine?”

—

The living room was littered with discarded Uno cards, an empty pizza box, and the remains of someone’s sprite can that Max Fewtrell had been using as a drum for the last ten minutes.

“You are cheating,” Pietra said flatly, accusing Lando with a pointed look.

“I’m just playing strategically.”

Amelia, half-asleep on the sofa with her feet in Lando’s lap, mumbled, “Strategically being a little shit, yeah.”

“Don’t hate the player,” Lando shot back, tugging her ankle gently. “Hate the wife.”

“You’ll sleep on the couch for that,” she muttered, eyes still closed.

Max Verstappen arrived late, as usual. Amelia opened one eye when he collapsed beside her on the sofa and started picking at the leftover cold garlic bread.

“Missed you.” She told him sleepily.

“Missed you too, zusje.” He said.

She leaned her head briefly against his shoulder.

—

The Spanish GP had been marginally better than the ones that’d come before. Still not good. But better.

Back at the airport, Oscar sat cross-legged on the floor, headphones in, while Amelia reviewed strategy notes and Lando bought three Snickers and two iced teas.

Lando dropped next to her with a huff, his arm winding around her waist, hand flexing before squeezing her hip. “I’m considering sabotage.”

“Of?”

“The car. I’m gonna drive it into a lake or something.”

Oscar pulled one headphone off. “Wouldn’t it sink?”

Lando stared at him. “That’s your concern?”

“Hydrodynamics are important.” Oscar smirked.

Amelia sighed. “You’re both ridiculous.”

Lando grinned. “You love it.”

She didn’t reply, just leaned closer, then passed him a highlighter. “Help me mark the wind tunnel data.”

—

They’d flown into Spielberg a little early to prep and decompress. Amelia had her notes. Lando had brought five pairs of sunglasses and absolutely no socks. Oscar was, predictably, already on his fifth stretch of the legs down the paddock.

The three of them walked the track together at sunset, shoes crunching against the gravel.

“You know,” Amelia said, glancing between the two drivers, “if either of you crashes this weekend, I won’t be happy.”

“Would you leave me for dead?” Oscar asked, deadpan.

“Yes.” She lied.

“She wouldn’t,” Lando said.

Amelia looked ahead, wind tugging at her hair, then back at the boys; her husband and her ducky.

This job was hell. The car was beyond flawed. The season wasn’t what they’d hoped.

But this, this team, this family, this effort, felt like something worth holding onto.

—

Silverstone came, and there was a shift.

It wasn’t everything. But it was something.

Amelia stood just outside the McLaren garage, arms crossed over her chest, watching the mechanics finish prepping the car for FP1.

The upgraded floor. The reshaped side-pods. The altered rear suspension geometry she’d argued over for weeks.

It was all here. On track. Real.

It wasn’t perfect — of course it wasn’t. The budget cap had demanded compromises. She hadn’t been able to implement the full package she’d thrown together back in March. That version of the MCL60 was meaner, leaner, cleverer — a little monster of a thing. A title fighter.

But this was the one they could afford. And she’d made it the best it could be.

Oscar stepped beside her, helmet tucked under his arm, race suit halfway unzipped. “Doesn’t look like a paper towel on wheels anymore.”

She hummed. “No. More like... a reinforced napkin. Maybe a placemat.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “How confident are you?”

She exhaled slowly. “Seventy percent we’re in the points. Fifty percent one of you surprises me. Zero percent we DNF. I’ve triple-checked the aero modelling. You’re safe.”

He nodded, quiet for a moment. Then, “I know it’s not what you wanted.”

“No,” she said honestly. “It’s not. But it’s what we’ve got. And it’s good enough to fight for points rather than the chequered flag.”

Oscar squeezed her shoulder. Tight. “I trust you.”

There was something boyish in the way he said it. Uncomplicated. She smiled and nudged him toward the car. “Go, ducky.”

“Still don’t like that.”

“Don’t care.”

—

By Sunday, the paddock was electric.

The buzz was real. The performance gains were visible. And people were talking.

After qualifying, someone from Sky asked Lando if he felt like McLaren were back in the fight for ‘best of the rest’.

He didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. We’ve got Amelia Norris to thank for that.”

That one made her throat pinch.

Later, back in the garage, she caught Andrea’s eye as he leaned over the pit wall screens. He grinned, then gave her a thumbs-up.

Even her dad, who’d spent the last several months managing expectations to sponsors and shareholders, gave her a bear hug that nearly knocked her clipboard out of her hands.

“You’ve made believers out of us again, kiddo,” he said into her ear. “They’re already asking about 2024.”

Amelia stepped back and smiled tightly. “Let us get through this race first.”

—

Lando was flying. Oscar was right on his gearbox. And Amelia was vibrating in her seat, headset digging into her ears.

The car wasn’t just competitive; it was racy. Bold. Alive.

She and Will traded glances as they watched Lando chase down Lewis.

“This is all you,” Will said.

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her heart was somewhere near her throat.

Oscar’s voice crackled in her ear. “Is this what driving a real car feels like?”

Amelia couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Keep it clean, ducky. Still a few laps to go.”

“Is my wife crying tears of joy right now?” Lando asked over his radio. “I bet she is.”

“She is.” Will said.

“Liar.” Amelia laughed, and okay, maybe she did sound a bit choked up.

—

The crowd was still roaring and Amelia was frozen beside the pit wall, headset hair sticking out from under her cap, breathing like she’d just done the full length of the race herself.

It wasn’t a win.

But it was enough.

Lando ran up behind her and flung his arms around her shoulders, lifting her slightly off the ground as she shrieked.

“Put me down, you sweaty idiot—!”

“We did it!”

“You did it.”

“No,” Lando said, spinning her once before finally setting her down. “You did.”

He kissed her, quick and messy, and the cameras were definitely watching, but she didn’t care. She’d earned this moment.

Oscar wandered over and offered her a half-hearted fist bump.

“Better than a placemat,” he grinned lopsidedly.

“Almost a dinner plate,” she agreed.

He laughed, and then he took her to watch the podium.

Max on top. Lewis next. And then her Lando.

Her husband.

Beaming right at her.

She made Oscar hug her. Needed the deep-pressure to cut through the overwhelming joy coursing through her veins. Somebody took a picture and posted it on Twitter with the tag ‘Best racer/engineer duo EVER’.

—

Amelia was sitting cross-legged on their hotel bed, notebook open in her lap, notes scribbled in every margin.

Lando walked out of the shower, towel around his waist, hair damp.

“You’re still working?”

She looked up. “I’m trying to figure out how to sneak in another mini upgrade before Qatar.”

Lando crossed the room and kissed the top of her head. “You’re mad, you know.”

Amelia frowned. “I’m not.”

He slid into bed beside her. “C’mere. Work can wait till tomorrow.”

She paused, then closed the notebook and handed it to him. “Don’t lose it,” she warned. “That’s the future in your hands.”

He looked at the cover, scuffed, dented, covered in papaya and coffee stains, and held it like it was a sacred text.

“We’re going to have podium celebration sex now.” She told him. “I bought chequered flag lingerie.”

His eyes went wide. “Oh—Holy shit. You did?”

She smiled. 

[xzinbdg]

NO WAY BRO ❕❕

۶ৎ synopsis: sim y/n, sim jake's sister, has known lee heeseung, her older brother's best friend, for ages. In her mind, he sees her like a little sister, but in reality, he has lost all his girlfriends because of his feelings for her, too bad he's afraid of her brother's reaction.

The silence in the room was extremely loud. Sure, you did forgive him, but there were still things to be said, and that’s why you both ran away from Jake and went to your room to talk.

"So…" Heeseung started nervously, "What did you think of my performance?"

"I mean, the song could have been better, but I’m flattered," you smiled, and there was another minute of silence until Heeseung spoke again.

"Y/N, I know I said it already, but I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean for this to turn out that way…" You smiled softly; damn, you really love that man. "I know, Heeseung… Thank you for not giving up on me." Now, you both were cheesing.

"How about I take you out on a real date?" Heeseung asked. "Would you go with me?" he added.

"Of course," you responded.

Three days later, you found yourself in a pretty pink dress, all dolled up in Heeseung's car. He didn’t tell you much about where you were going; he just told you to "dress up for him," so here you were. The ride wasn’t too long; after about 20 minutes of nice chatting with him, you arrived at your destination. The view before you was beautiful; it was a nice restaurant with tables outside and a pretty stream flowing calmly behind it.

"What do you think?" Heeseung asked.

"It’s so beautiful here," you said, amazed, and he smiled while looking at your cute face.

"Our table is the last one close to the water," he said. "It’s extremely difficult to book it because it’s the best one here." You nodded, admiring his efforts.

The two of you headed inside and sat at your seats. The view was amazing; the moon reflected on the water, making it glimmer. You were truly happy in this moment. The two of you ordered dinner and just talked while enjoying your meal.

"So, umm, Heeseung? What are we?" you asked nervously after preparing yourself to say it.

"What do you want us to be, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Something more than friends…" You avoided his intense gaze.

"It’s good that I feel the same way then." He gave you a smile when you looked at him. "Does that make me your girlfriend?"

"Only if you say yes," he said.

"Yes to what?" you questioned.

"May I be your boyfriend?" you giggled at his words.

"Yes."

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

written part: 399 words.

۶ৎ pairing: brother's best friend!heeseung x reader

۶ৎ genre: smau, brother's bestfriend, forbidden love, angst, fluff, crack

۶ৎ emi's note: HELLO!!! I'm back! sorry for the long absence; it was the holiday season, and then I was about to graduate, and it all just piled up. but I'm back! here’s a question: is it better when I put the second taglist in comments or as a repost? as you can probably notice, I switched natty for wonyoung, and we have sungho as a new character! lastly, kind of on another note, but I'm thinking of coming back to writing for riize! let me know what you think. hope u enjoyed!!

۶ৎ taglist: @callikari @imanalien143 @kekaekeke @4lndr17 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @bejewelledgirl @jokkomizz @octoberoflove @swanwonyoung @mheretoreadff @s1rawb3rry @heeheelee @m1kkso @ayyonoona @augustloaf @lovenha7 @kukkurookkoo @honestlyatomicpanda @httpenhoon @noiiny @i03jae @celli-ohs @lilliansreality @jvngw0nlvr @starbyeol1512 @enhaz1 @lhseungg @sillyyuz @jiaant11 @wintereals @taehyuniesworld @fancypeacepersona @eyesonlybutterflies @yuyita-rosier @right-person-wrong-time @norihoyeon @simjaeyunies @rairaiblog @orimuraa @daniellesyellowhands @n-i4 @w2hoonki @ilovhoonie @jae-n0 @doveblackboat @ningningiloveumarryme @hyunjinslonglegs @jyikeu @reikaxslvr @teddywonss

[f1daydreamer]

Unexpected Miracle

----

POV: Elena

It started like it always did when I got my period: some cramping, lower back pain, the usual urge to curl into a human croissant and binge-watch bad reality TV. Nothing weird.

Except… the pain wasn’t going away. In fact, it got worse. I was sweating. My stomach was twisting like someone was doing somersaults inside me—which, funny enough, they were.

At some point, I staggered down the hall of the hotel to Charles’s room, hoping to lie down in his bed without disturbing the other WAGs who were all chatting and drinking tea in mine.

“Charles…” I mumbled, knocking gently before letting myself in and collapsing on the bed. “Don’t freak out. I think I’m dying.”

Very romantic.

He wasn't there.

Good. I could writhe in peace.

Until… something popped. Warm liquid spread across my thighs and the bedsheets.

That was not period-related.

And then came the pain.

The real pain.

A scream tore from my throat, echoing through the walls. I grabbed the bedsheets, curling into myself as if that would stop the freight train currently trying to exit my body.

Moments later, the door swung open.

An assistant—bless her soul—saw the scene, went ghost white, and dropped her walkie-talkie.

“Elena?! Are you—did your appendix burst?! Is it internal bleeding?! Oh my God, don’t die!”

“I don’t KNOW!” I howled. “Something’s wrong! I think my organs are rearranging themselves!”

Suddenly people flooded the room. And then—

“Elena?!”

There he was. Charles Leclerc. My loving, beautiful boyfriend. In his team shirt, holding a banana and clearly mid-snack.

He looked at me on the bed—sweaty, crying, soaked—and his face went from confusion to panic in 0.3 seconds.

“What—what happened?! Are you—why is the bed wet?! Did you pee?!”

“NO, I DIDN’T PEE! I THINK I’M—OH MY GOD, IT HURTS SO MUCH—!”

Enter: Dr. Armand, the paddock’s MVP medic.

He pushed everyone back, examined me like a pro, and then froze.

“Her water broke.”

A long pause.

I blinked.

Charles blinked.

“Her what broke?” Charles asked, eyes narrowing like he misheard.

“She’s in labor. We’re delivering a baby. Now.”

The room went dead silent.

I sat up, panting. “I—I’m not pregnant! I literally had my period last month!”

“That,” Dr. Armand said calmly, like this was just another Thursday, “is called a cryptic pregnancy. It’s rare, but it happens. Some women have no belly growth, no symptoms, and even continue to menstruate. It hides behind the uterus or spine. It's one of those things we teach med students to expect once in a blue moon.”

Charles looked at him, pale. “But… we used protection.”

Dr. Armand gave him the look. You know the one. The ‘Aw, sweet summer child’ look.

“I don’t have time to give you the biology lecture right now. There’s a baby coming.”

“No, there’s not,” Charles said, clearly in denial. “She’s not even pregnant.”

“Elena,” Dr. Armand said, ignoring Charles. “You need to push.”

And that was the moment Charles fainted.

---

30 Minutes Later

Charles recovered quickly—just in time to hold my hand while I screamed at him for doing this to me.

“I am never trusting you with protection again!” I screeched.

“You can yell at me forever later, mon ange,” he stammered, “just don’t die.”

I pushed. I screamed. I possibly cursed in five languages.

And then—

A cry.

A tiny, angry cry that pierced the air.

Everyone froze.

“She’s here,” Dr. Armand announced, lifting the tiny, squirming, red-faced miracle in his arms. “A baby girl.”

I burst into tears.

Charles stared. Absolutely frozen. Like someone had thrown a baby in his lap and told him it was now his tax write-off.

“Is—she—mine?” he whispered.

Dr. Armand raised an eyebrow. “Well, unless you’d like me to order a paternity test mid-delivery—”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” Charles said quickly. “She’s—oh my God, she’s ours.”

Charles stared down at the tiny, wiggling bundle the doctor placed in his arms. “She’s… she’s so small.”

“She’s Elodie,” Elena whispered, exhausted but glowing.

“Elodie Ana Leclerc,” Charles repeated, like the words were too holy to touch. “We have a daughter.”

Charles cupped my face and kissed her through tears. “We’re parents. Oh mon Dieu. We’re parents. In a drivers’ room. What the hell is our life?”

---

POV: Outside the Room

“Did someone say a baby?” Lando blinked.

“There’s no way Charles has a baby,” Pierre scoffed. “He still forgets where he parks his car.”

“I heard someone scream,” Kika whispered. “Like a horror movie scream.”

“Maybe he got a cramp,” Carlos said. “He does that when he eats too fast.”

And then Fred Vasseur stormed down the hallway.

“Why is everyone in the hallway—WHAT is going on here?! I just got off a call and someone tells me Charles is delivering a baby in his room?! Is this some weird PR stunt?!”

The assistant stepped forward nervously. “No sir. Elena just gave birth. In his bed.”

“In his—” Fred blinked. “She what?! Since when is she pregnant?!”

“She wasn’t,” Lando said, jaw hanging. “She was—surprise pregnant.”

Fred Vasseur walked in, saw the baby, then turned slowly and muttered “I came here to manage a Formula 1 team and instead delivered a baby in Leclerc’s dressing room.”

Esteban was already calling Otmar. “Do we have a baby policy in Alpine? Just in case.”

The ambulance arrived minutes later. Elena, wrapped in warm blankets, was carefully placed on a stretcher with Elodie in her arms. Charles climbed in beside them, still in his fireproofs, his hair wild, looking like a man who just survived war and fell in love at the same time.

Fred took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’m too old for this sport.”

---

At the Hospital

Charles held Elodie, swaddled in pink, in the hospital room while I rested with a blissed-out smile and a juice box.

“I have to call my mother,” Charles said, still visibly panicked. “She’s going to kill me.”

He FaceTimed Pascale.

Charles: FaceTime ringing…

Pascale: “Mon amour! I watched FP3—what happened at the end? Are you okay?”

Charles slowly turned the phone camera to the sleeping baby in the hospital bassinet.

Pascale: squints “Oh, is that a—wait. Is that—a baby?!”

Charles: “Yes.”

Pascale: “Whose baby?”

Charles: “Mine.”

Silence.

Pascale: “Yours… like, you’re babysitting, or yours like, you made it?!”

Charles: “The second one.”

Pascale: “CHARLES MARC HERVÉ PERCEVAL LECLERC—”

Elena, overhearing, muttered, “You’re getting the full name treatment. You’re done.”

Pascale: “You don’t just casually have a baby, Charles! That is not something you forget to tell your mother!”

Charles: “I didn’t know!”

Pascale: “You didn’t know you were going to be a father?! Are you serious? What is this, a reality show?!”

Charles: “It was a cryptic pregnancy!”

Pascale: “Is that what you’re calling it now? I raised three boys, I know a pregnancy when I see one—unless she was hiding behind a curtain for nine months—how did no one notice?!”

Charles: “Can I send you a picture of her? Her name is Elodie.”

Pascale: suddenly softening “Elodie...”

He sent a photo.

Pascale burst into tears.

“Oh my God… she’s beautiful. My first grandchild. I can’t believe it. Wait until your grandmother hears this, she’s going to faint.”

Charles: “Please don’t let her faint.”

After more Ten minutes of emotional yelling in French, crying, and several “You didn’t even know?! What do you mean she gave birth in your driver room ?! Are you feeding the child?! Do you even know how to change a diaper?!”

He hung up, sighing. “That went well.”

He called Lorenzo and Charlotte.

Charles: “Hey.”

Lorenzo: “Why do you sound like you’ve been crying?”

Charlotte: “Wait, are you okay? Did someone crash into you again? Did Max say something mean?”

Charles: “No, but I need to show you something.”

Turns camera to Elodie.

Lorenzo: “Whose baby is that?”

Charlotte: “Are you baby sitting ?”

Charles: “No. She’s mine. Meet Elodie.”

Lorenzo: “What.”

Charlotte: “I—what?! From WHO?! From WHERE?! Charles, did you go to a baby farm?!”

Charles: “Elena gave birth today. In my room. At the paddock.”

Charlotte: “Like. In the drivers room?! Charles?! Not even a Hospital?!”

Lorenzo: “Why do you look so calm about this?! I need to sit down.”

Charlotte: “You’re telling me I threw you a birthday brunch two weeks ago and you were a father already?! You didn’t mention a baby in the oven!”

Charles: “There wasn’t a visible oven!”

Lorenzo: “Oh my God, I’m an uncle. This is worse than that time you bought a snake on vacation.”

Charlotte: “Don’t compare a baby to a snake!”

Finally, he called Arthur.

Arthur: “You better be calling me with coffee or good news.”

Charles: “I’m a dad.”

Arthur: “...Huh?”

Arthur: “You—what?!

Charles: “I have a daughter. Her name is Elodie. She was born three hours ago.”

Arthur: “I swear to God, if this is some sort prank $@%#$ ”

Charles: “It’s not. Come see her tomorrow.”

Arthur: “No.”

Charles: “What?”

Arthur: “No. I am NOT uncle material. Don’t put that pressure on me. I’m not even fully human until I have coffee.”

Arthur: after a long pause “...Am I allowed to hold her?”

Charles: “Only if you wash your hands. Twice.”

Arthur: “I’m gonna cry. Oh my God. I’m gonna be the cool uncle.”

---

POV: Fred Vasseur (and the Ferrari garage, a few hours later)

Fred: staring into space, muttering “I run a Formula 1 team. I manage 1.000 horsepower cars. I deal with wind tunnels and strategy calls. Not childbirth. Not baby blankets.”

Mechanic: “He’s been like that since they wheeled the baby out.”

Mechanic: “To be fair, it was in his technical bed.”

Fred: “This team is cursed. This team is absolutely cursed.”

He sat down in the pit wall chair, stared into the distance.

“First we break gearboxes, now we’re delivering children between sessions. What’s next? Someone adopting a driver during Q1?”

Staff : “Can we at least get Elodie a team shirt? The tiniest Ferrari onesie?”

Fred: muttering “That child better grow up to be a world champion, or I want that hospital bill refunded.”

---

POV: The Press Conference – The Next Day

Reporter: “Charles, we noticed you missed most of the post-qualy debrief yesterday. Is everything alright?”

Charles, smiling: “Yeah. I became a dad.”

The room fell silent.

Carlos, sitting next to him, snorted his water.

Lando choked on air.

journalist : “Wait—you’re not joking?!”

Charles: “Nope. Her name is Elodie. She was born yesterday .”

Media chaos ensued. Reporters scrambled. Tweets flew. Headlines exploded.

BREAKING: CHARLES LECLERC BECOMES FATHER AFTER SURPRISE PADDOCK BIRTH

The F1 fandom: hysteria

Twitter: broken

Ferrari PR team: new grey hairs

Later That Night

Everyone came to visit.

Carlos brought flowers.

Lando brought snacks.

Pierre brought… a tiny Ferrari onesie and a plush baguette. “For culture.”

Fred brought wine. For himself.

They all crowded around, staring at the little bundle in Elena’s arms.

“She’s cute,” George said. “She looks like Charles, but that could change. Baby faces morph like Play-Doh.”

Kika leaned in. “She has your eyes, Elena.”

Elena smiled sleepily. “Her name is Elodie.”

Everyone melted.

Charles looked down at her, his entire world reshaped in a single day.

“I had a girlfriend this morning,” he murmured, brushing a finger across her tiny hand. “Now I have a family.”

And even if it all started in the most ridiculous, unexpected way…

It was perfect.

-----

Back at the paddock, a sign was already taped to the driver’s room door:

“DO NOT ENTER – THIS ROOM HAS BEEN BLESSED (AND POSSIBLY CURSED) BY THE ARRIVAL OF BABY LECLERC.”

And below it, in Fred’s handwriting:

"All future team babies must be scheduled off-season."

---

This was a a mixture of several unfinished ideas 😭 and a dream of mine

[imaginarydaughterz]

Ulta is actually the worst at delivery. i've never had more trouble trying to buy something online!!

[writingunderneathawillow]

first base

summary: Bucky and you have to go undercover as a married couple for a mission. In order to soothe your nerves, he shows you that kissing him is not a big deal. Or is it? content warnings: fluff, mutual pining, handsome bucky hehehe, kinda suggestive but really tame, pretty angsty (mentioned character death, but the person’s made up), female reader word count: 2k a/n: today i looked up how the whole first base, second base, etc is defined and that gave me the idea for this :) also it’s been around since the 1940s (ish) this was supposed to be super cute and fluffy but i just love angst so much and i couldn’t help myself

The dress that wrapped itself around every curve of your body was surprisingly comfortable. Its satin flowed smoothly and pooled like a waterfall around your legs, allowing for plenty of movement which eased your nerves a little. Still, you felt the blood pounding in your ears as you applied the dark crimson to your lips and blended out the sharp corner of your eyeliner. The person that stared back at you in the mirror had little resemblance to you. Gabriela Alderton, your alias for the next few days, was dressed up in expensive silks, owned a purse that was sold for more than what you had saved over the last few years and wore jewellery that your yearly salary could not finance. That included an engagement ring, which sparkled on your left ring finger. The band was made out of heavy gold, engraved with details so fine that only someone in your close proximity would be able to see it. The diamond that adorned the centre of the ring was so massive that it almost looked cheap again. Almost. S.H.I.E.L.D. or, much rather Tony, didn’t play when it came to undercover missions. One wrong detail, one off-hand comment could end every involved agent’s life. And you knew that too well. Which is why you had taken the time to craft a fully in depth, flushed out and comprehensive profile of your made-up personality, detailing little things such as Gabriela’s electives in middle school (badminton and pottery). A knock on your door detached your scrambling mind from listing any more childhood details under your breath and you walked over to the entrance to your bedroom, turned the knob and opened. Your throat constricted when you saw who stood there, waiting for you. There was no moment in time where Bucky had ever been unattractive – and you had lived with him for a few years now, seeing him bloodied, beaten up, hauled through dirt and grime and passed out on the couch after exhausting missions. But the way his anthracite suit jacket smoothed itself across his shoulders, not yet buttoned up and therefore allowing a glimpse of the pressed silk shirt – it just wasn’t fair how handsome he was. “Hello,” he said quietly. His own eyes darted over you, and you saw how he swallowed, the bump of his Adam’s apple quivering as he took in your dolled-up face, drinking in every inch of your powdered skin. His gaze dropped and wandered further down, assessing the hold of the fabric on your body and if you had had it in you to rip away your eyes from his face, you would have seen how his fingers twitched in a suppressed attempt to reach out for you. “Hi,” you replied, your cheeks warming under his steady evaluation and you opened the door further, beckoning him in. A sound, that was half sigh, half grunt tumbled from his throat as he entered your bedroom. The material of his pants stretched over his thoroughly trained thighs when he walked and despite the material surely being sturdy and expensive beyond your comprehension, you saw the faint outline of his leg muscles shifting. “So,” Bucky began, fumbling with something in the inside pocket of his jacket. It took him a few tries to grasp it and when he opened his palm, you saw a shining gold wedding band that matched the engagement ring on your left hand both in aesthetics and opulence. “You already got the other one, right?” The question was unnecessary as Bucky stared at the jewellery decorating your finger. An expression that you didn’t quite have the words for was plastered across his face, a mix of anticipation and… longing? You raised your hand, palm facing your face, and wiggled your finger. “Yeah, Stark gave it to me at breakfast. Told me to get used to it.” “Hmm.” His one-worded response left his feelings towards that open to interpretation but there was a timid smile on his lips, as if he might not mind the idea of you getting used to that ring and the connection that intertwined him and you along with it.

“Well, we’re… ‘married’, so you need both,” he mumbled, now shifting the ring in his hand so that he could hold it between pointer finger and thumb.

Instinctively, you stretched out your hand, resting it against his free one and let him ease the ring onto your other finger.

It fit perfectly. There was no danger of it slipping off or cutting off your blood supply, as if it had been melded to your measurements from beginning to end.

It was just as heavy as its counterpart, despite the lack of diamond. It seemed simple, a thicker band than what your mind usually connected to the words ‘wedding ring’ but the feelings it triggered in your heart threatened to affect the standards you had set for your own expectations for marriage.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied as you took notice of the heavy silence that filled the room.

The apples of Bucky’s cheeks took a slight pink hue, and he cleared his throat before replying.

“You think so?”

He looked at you, a glimmer of something you didn’t know how to place in his stare.

“Yeah, Stark did a fine job picking it out,” you answered, softly contracting the muscles in your hands which causes both rings to reflect back to you.

“I chose it.”

Your attention snapped away from the jewellery and landed right on him.

A sheepish smile ornamented his face, along with a deeper shade of pink on his face.

You had to take a few short breaths to compose yourself, to not let yourself melt.

“Oh.”

He hummed a soft response, not words but not a distinguishable sound either and just kept looking at you.

“Well,” you continued, “You seem to know my taste a lot better than I do. It really is beautiful.”

A proud smile snuck onto his face, lighting up the grey storm in his eyes to adjust to a soft blue.

Despite the calm that he brought into your room and mind, you felt your blood pressure pick up again as the clock ticked closer to 6 p.m., signalling that it was almost time to go down and wait for the driver who would pick you up and drive to the gala.

Bucky noticed your anxious shifting, the way you paced up and down the room in heels would wear you out and give you blisters before even arriving at your destination.

“You ok?” He asked and reached out, his metal fingers wrapping around your wrist. His hold was gentle, and you would’ve been able to free yourself from his grip at any time if you had wanted to. But you didn’t.

“Just nerves,” you replied, letting him still your movements.

“You’ll do great, doll. You don’t oughta worry.”

The term of endearment made the butterflies in your stomach practice summersaults and you almost closed your eyes to calm yourself.

Instead, you twirled the wedding ring, letting it circle around your skin a few times.

“I just…,” you began, trying to find the words to express what you felt without giving away too much but your mind struggled to make up a sentence that afforded that.

Bucky observed your stuttering and something seemed to click in his brain as his eyes softened.

“Is it because of… because of the last time you went undercover?”

The question hung heavily in the room, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his face as you nodded.

The last time you went undercover, it had gone beyond sideways.

Your work partner, your long-time friend and one of the best agents you had ever known, hadn’t made it out because of two mistakes.

“I read the file, you know? Two weeks ago, Sam gave it to me. I feel like you should know that, so that you are aware that I’m… prepared.”

Bucky’s words didn’t have the effect he had intended.

Instead of soothing your worries, it upset you. “It wasn’t his fault. He was prepared. I was the one who messed up,” you snapped at him. Regret flooded your veins immediately but the tears that threatened to spill held your tongue in place, hindering you from apologising for your tone. “That’s not what I meant and I’m sure that it wasn’t your fault,” he murmured. You pulled the wedding band from your finger and held it in your hand, right under Bucky’s nose. “I made two mistakes. Two. They cost him his life that night.” You fumbled with the ring, took a deep breath that did nothing to help you relax and asked: “Do you have to return this after the mission?” Bucky nodded and before he could elaborate, you said: “Tell Stark to yell at me, not you.” Then you smacked the piece of jewellery against the table – once, twice. The third hit it took was from being thrown against the wall. The super soldier didn’t stop you – sure, he looked at you like you had lost your mind, but he didn’t try to intervene. Once you had properly let your anger on the ring, you picked it up and held it up again for Bucky to inspect. It was still beautiful, not bent, but slightly scuffed up. “It needs to look like it’s been sitting on my finger for longer than a few hours. We’re not newlyweds after all,” you explained, your voice trembling slightly. Bucky hummed a response, his eyes still fixated on you as realisation dawned on him. “Is that how they figured it out? That you guys were undercover?” He asked, his eyebrows knitted together while unease lingered on his face. No, not unease. Worry. Not for himself, but for you. “That was part of it,” you admitted then and placed the band back in its rightful place. He stayed quiet, leaving it up to you whether to open up further or keep it bottled up. You, surprising both yourself and him, continued in a quiet voice. “We had been friends for… for years. His name was Christian. And we carried out so many missions together, recon, gathering intel, anything. We had gone undercover before, but as business partners, not a couple. When Fury gave us that… that goddamn mission, Christian laughed, saying it’d be easy. And it was, everything went smoothly until the man we were spying on pointed out my ring. We tried to brush it off, saying that I had just gotten it cleaned and took great care off it. But he didn’t buy it. So, Christian did the only thing he could think of, and he kissed me. I froze.” You recounted the painful memory with a tremble, both in your vocals and your hands. Bucky listened, his palms resting inches away from your arm, almost as if he wanted to reach out to you, to ease your pain. “They shot him before I could look him in the eye, and he was… he was gone before he hit the ground.” Sympathy filled Bucky’s eyes. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t an attempt to convince you that it hadn’t been your fault. It was compassion. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” he whispered and sighed softly. You looked up at him, blinking away the tears. His face was just inches away from yours and you could feel his breath brushing up against your cheek. “I don’t want to freeze again. I don’t wanna mess this up again. I just… I was so close with Christian, but we were just friends, and it threw me off. I didn’t know how to react and I…,” you trailed off, your eyes flickering down to his lips. “You’re not gonna. We just gotta… get some practice,” Bucky murmured, and his hand came up to your cheek. “Hit first base or what?” Your question was supposed to come off as a joke, but it was a breathless plea, your fingers found themselves at the base of his neck, softly brushing up against his hair. “I can’t believe people still use that metaphor,” he replied and then he pressed his lips onto yours.

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work part 2 out now

[icupblog]

Where did the party go? Last part!!! part 1 part 2

Bruce didn't notice you weren't staying with them at first, it came to him slowly. The realisation that you, his child was elsewhere, away from your home, away from him. The hallways felt colder, the house emptier. Then when at a family dinner he realised, "where's name?" he was met with "why would I know?" "probably up in their room" "father can we focus on more important matters?" none of them were definitive. Where were you, you were only 17, right?

The heels you were wearing click against the cold marble floor of the office. Even though you were an intern and mostly went on coffee runs it still felt rewarding. "hey name, your back" shouts kitty the secretary "did you get mine" she says with a pout "maybeee, you'll have to say the magic word..." "PLEASE give me my coffee I'll love you forever and ever" "here ya go" she squeals as you place her extremely complicated order in front of her. "and in return" she hands you a file "wait seriously" "yup the boss wants you to look over" you give her your brightest smile before snatching the file out of her hands and running to your makeshift office.

When you finally return to your shared apartment you slump against the door before dramatically flopping onto the floor. "Gwen? did you get ice cream?" "It's in the freezer" your room mate shouts in reply. You sigh contently as you grab the bowl before sagging into the couch. "We're going to a party tomorrow" "who's we?" "me and my room mate name" "I've got wooork" "no you don't, day off tomorrow" "Oh so I'm just meant to follow you around on MY day off?" she thinks for a second "yeah, pretty much"

Dick loved his family, to him it was the thing that kept him anchored. He loved hanging out with Damian, annoying Jason and coddling Tim when he was in his obssessive state. He adored cass and steph as he always wanted sisters. You however, were distant? he can't really remember the last time you two had hung out. Were you avoiding him? Surely he hadn't done anything wrong, right? He barely remembers the last time you had shared a meal together let alone seen each other. He had to make it up to you! he searched his contacts for your number only to find he didn't have it? did you change your number or delete it off his phone or something? Why would you do that? do you really hate this family so much? he had to find you and get the answers he needed then after, you could come back home.

You sigh as you look in a floor length mirror, this dress was far too tight and blue. you preferred to stay away from the colours of your siblings. Too many bad memories, besides why would you want to represent some of the worst people in your life. "are you ready name?" Gwen shouts "yeah" you scurry over to the kitchen of your flat where you see your best friends doing- "pre-drinks!" Gwen shouts shoving a shot glass in your hands "c'mon loosen up!" william says from behind her. God they were monsters, they had far too much alcohol tolerance. They duo quickly shove you into the back of an uber before finally reaching a club they both agreed on.

The bright lights constantly flashed in your eyes. You were meant to be out there wasted, however whenever you were drunk you felt helpless, like you needed someone your family so you just took small sips of whatever the bartender gave you, keeping an eye on your friends. You shiver slightly in the chilly air before turning back around to the bar, hoping to get some more of whatever you were having.

Before you could realise anything was happening a leather jacket gets placed around your shoulders. "sorry saw you looking cold" a man says, you were about to shrug it off before you saw his face. You swear you remembered him from somewhere, you just can't put your finger on it. "so what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" "drinking" you say with a smirk, did you used to date him? work with him? were do you know him from? "well last I checked the Waynes normally drink something a lot more expensive than" he gestured towards your drink "this" "how the fuck do you know me?" "woah, I'm Tim's friend, his well- I don't mean to brag but his best friend." "yeah, well me and Tim aren't really running around in the same circles anymore, please leave" you say shoving his jacket into his chest. Honestly of all the people to see here it just had to be someone who knew your brother, or well not just your brother (can you even call him that?) but them. You speed walk over to where William is talking to his boyfriend rick. "Who's bar guy" "freak from my past" "oooh, spicy" you give William a look before turning your back on, Tim's best friend, ew, even thinking about him gave you the creeps. "well the freak is freakly good looking-" "so what" "he's giving you puppy dog eyes-" he's trying to distract me from the fact that I hate my family and anything to do with them" "He's your BROTHER?" "NO, keep your voice down! brother's best friend" "Well if you hate your brother then maybe getting with hotshot over there will make you feel better" "can you leave it?"

"maybee, just maybeee-" "What?" "you need to get laid" you look at him with disgust, "I don't need a man to make myself feel better thanks." "not what I was trying to say" he puts his hands on your shoulder so your staring directly at him "you deserve to be happy, the more you wallow about your past the more upset you'll become, talk to the cute guy. Have fun. loosen up, those are your orders soldier!"

"Remember" he says as he makes you face the raven haired man " let loose, have more than one drink please!" he then pushes you in the direction of the bar and vanishes into the crowd, dragging Rick with him.

You mutter under your breath as you walk back. Tim's best friend gives you an amused look as you settle into the seat he's standing next to "change your mind?" "I was forced to." "Might as well make it worth your while" he says holding out a drink to you. You stare at his face for a second memorizing the way he's looking at you, like your normal, like he's normal, like he's not using you. You could... maybe get used to him. "what was your name aga-" "Conner, can I call you mine?" you shoot him a deadpanned look. "no-"

Jason knew he had done bad things, especially to his family, to Tim to name, to Bruce and Steph and Alfred and-

but that's beside the point, the point is he is trying, to make up for lost time with Dick and Bruce and trying to seek forgiveness with name and Tim. Like for example the other day he had hung out with Tim, it was awkward at first but he managed. They actually had a really good time together. See, he's changed, he's a better man, and now him and his family are thriving. "where's name?" Bruce never fails to have the deepest voice imaginable. "probably up in their room" he answers. Even though you two had had bad times, like when he slightly kidnapped you. You had forgiven him, when you first saw him in the manor you were so scared, you actually looked hilarious, he tried not to laugh. He wasn't going to do anything to you, just wanted to apologise. And he did!

It took you a while to warm up to him, but eventually you were pining for his attention. Not that he really noticed at the moment. Now that he thinks about it, he can't really remember the last time you had annoyed him about something, like what books he liked or whatever small talk you could come up with. Wait where were you?

You could barely open your eyes, it felt like your eyelids weighed a million pounds, god you were so hungover. maybe you could see if Gwen was awake, surely she would be almost as bad as you, right? You should check o- "hey sleepyhead" you squeal quickly and lift yourself up as a presence makes itself known. "thought you would be asleep the whole day," you look beside you as Conner hands you a glass of water "rough night huh?" he jokes. You stare at him in shock, what the hell? "got you something to eat as well there's a nice pastry shop down the road, and I got Gwen to let me back in after I got us something" still in shellshock you grab the water slowly and take small sips. "um, can I ask you a question Conner?" "thought you were calling me Kon?" "sorry?" "nevermind, shoot"

"did we sleep together?" a silence takes hold of your room Conner stares at the ground for a second before looking at you again.

"yes"

You spit out the water in your mouth, "oh my gosh I'm so sorry I just didn- "Oh not like that, we slept in the same bed" you let out a sigh of relief, "we did make out like a lot though" You immediately look down in shame, this was Tim's friend not your's. You can't let yourself think that this guy should be close to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" "Making outs a two way street, you know that right, especially for the type we did, I mea-" "Not just that, your Tim's friend, this was a breach of trust," "thought you didn't like him that much" "i don't but-" "so if you don't like him why do you care what he thinks?" you look up at him as he's sitting on your bed, so out of place in your quaint room.

"well firstly, I have morals" he snickers at you "didn't seem that way to me last night-" you slap him gently on the arm "stop making it seem worse than it was." you look at him for a moment, and in that moment you imagine the possibility of being with him. "my family are complicated people, they- they care about each other. and they don't really care about me as much," Kon looks at you sadly "don't say whatever sappy thing that's in your head. I-I've tried to connect with them, I've tried to be a part of that family but unless they try as well I can't. I know what I am to them and I've made my piece with it. I'm happy here, in Metropolis with my friends, I don't need them anymore but sometimes, I just with I had a family you know." he looks at you for a moment then smiles softly. "I'm sorry about how they treated you," "Nothing for you to be sorry about" you say as you grab his hand. He looks at you, like really looks at you with your 'just got out of bed look' and your soft smile as you cradle your hand in his. He leans in, hoping beyond hope that you'll realise how much he cares about what happened between you two. How he noticed you, even in the manor, through dark hallways you were his guiding light. How when Tim was busy he would peek into your room just to find you sitting there studying, or chatting with a friend, or doing something so mundane he couldn't believe you lived in the same household as the others. You were special and you could be his. If you just leaned in too.

A sudden knock hits the door to the apartment, knocking you and Kon out a daze. You stare at each other for a second before you hear it "I need to see her, sorry" "Who are you?" noisy footsteps reach your door as you stand up to answer whoever visits someone at 8 in the morning. You swing open the door to find- Dick?

"hi" he says sheepishly, as if you'll scream at him for being in your presence, maybe a year ago, maybe a couple of months ago, but now you stare at him silently. "Is something wrong?" "yes and no, you kinda have to have the full story, anywa-" "is someone hurt?" "no-god no, I just came to say hi" you smile, confused at the older brother you've looked up to your whole life stumble over his words " you just did that" "well, by hi I mean like catch up with you. We haven't hung out in forever" "we never hung out in the first place," he looks at you as if you just spoke gibberish "well we can fix that!" he says with a determined look on his face "get changed, we're going!" "now?" "now!" you're laughing now, maybe because your hungover maybe because of how absurd this situation is but nonetheless it gets Dick's attention "What's what" "bro, I'm hungover and got a whole man in my room, the only way we're hanging out is if you calm down to realise that I look like I've been dragged through a hedge, here" you grab a piece of paper and a pen from inside your room being careful not to let Dick look inside, with his newfound attitude you doubt he'll like the fact that Tim's friend is on your bed trying to signal whether or not he should jump out of the window.

You write down your phone number and hand it to him. "I'm free friday, around 2pm" call me if you have to reschedule. "the-there's a man in there?" "no, your hallucinating this is all a dream, go home," You and Gwen succeeded in pushing Dick's catatonic state towards the door. "See you" you say before softly closing the door on his face.

You and Gwen share a look before Kon slowly exits your room. "Is he going to kill me?" "he'll have to go through me first" you say in mock seriousness you turn round to face him, "you got us breakfast?"

Yay it's finally done! Sorry it took so long, I had an english exam, then I overdosed in the hospital. But I'm okay now!!!!!

I'm leaning towards making the reader try and reconcile with the family, as someone who has had mental health problems I just wanna see my pookie happy </3. This might be the last chapter for now, just because I want to look into writing about other things, Still DC though don't worry. I might come back to this series but right now I'm happy with it.

[bronzealchemy]

Could I please have some tooth rotting fluff with Sylus? Cuddles and cutesy domestic stuff and comforting words, just Sylus making MC feel better after a bad day or mission gone wrong. I’m in a rough patch rn and would love some fluff rn

Comforting Miss Hunter

In which Sylus cares for MC and wants her to relax

content: fluff

a/n: Sorry this is late, but I hope you feel better!

The door closed and you almost sank to your knees right then and there, every muscle in your body hurt. The last few weeks were too much. Draining you, taking all of your energy. You weren’t feeling like yourself, wanting to close off and not talk to anyone. Being a hunter came with it’s perks—but there were a lot of disadvantages, too. One of them being that you were on missions so often that you almost forgot what day it was, once you came home.

„There she is“, a deep voice came from your living room. You immediately pulled your weapon, to which the white haired man leaning against the wall just gave you a sly smile.

„Gosh, Sylus. You almost gave me a heartattack“, you grit out, putting the gun away when you saw your … what exactly you weren’t sure either.

Sylus was a mission once. Someone you needed to get answers out of. But you soon learned that there was more to him. After a while, he became more than a mission to you. And now you couldn’t imagine a life without him. Even though you kept that secret close to your chest. Having feelings this deeply made one vulnerable and that was one thing you couldn’t allow yourself. Not in your position.

Sylus sauntered over to you, every one of his steps full with his typical confidence. He owned every room he went into, and your apartment was no different.

„You look like you could use some relaxation“, he said, reaching out to you and slipped your jacket off your shoulders. You winced, your shoulders so tense it hurt.

„You can’t just come into my apartment and order me around.“

„Such a tense kitten.“ His voice was like whiskey, giving you goosebumps. He gently pushed you towards the bathroom, and when the door opened … you were stunned.

There were candles lit, a bath was drawn, and there were multiple dark red roses in vases set on the counter. A wine glass was set upon the edge of the bathtub, and there was so much foam that you almost couldn’t see the bathtub anymore.

„What is this?“ Your voice was so hoarse you almost couldn’t make it out yourself. Sylus lowered his head to your ear, his breath on your skin. „You’re overworking yourself, sweetie. You need time to yourself, and since you won’t give it to yourself, I’ll just have to push you to your luck.“

You looked at the lovingly prepared bath for a few seconds longer, before you turned around and jumped him. You hugged him so hard, his breath hitched before he hugged you back, nuzzling his head into your neck.

„I …“ You almost said something impossible. Something that would change everything between the two of you. „Thank you. Thank you so much, Sylus.“

„Anytime. Now get into the bath and relax. I’ll order some food.“ He grabbed your face softly, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

„Why are you doing this?“, you breathed, feeling a dangerous tingle in your eyes. If he kept going, you would start to cry. And that you couldn’t. Not in front of the leader of Onychinus.

„I care about you. And I don’t want someone I care about to suffer. So now stop stalling and go in before the water gets cold.“ He leaned down and kissed your nose, then both of your cheeks. And then, lastly, he hovered over your mouth, as if he wanted to give you time to withdraw. But you did the opposite. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. Until all the tenseness in your muscles disappeared and the only thing you could feel was him.

[lymtw]

heyy boo !! idk if you’ve done a fic like this before but if u haven’t can i request reader who’s last relationship was toxic so when she gets into a new relationship with toji and she treats her right she doesn’t really know how to feel 😓. ty in advance ❤️

A/N: I love this!! I really enjoyed writing this one 🥹

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

You just don't get it. You don't get why you were cursed to love someone who never returned an ounce of that same love to you. You were naive enough to believe that there was goodness in his heart and you told yourself that if you communicated enough of your feelings and thoughts, that things would fall into place and you'd love each other the way it was always meant to be.

You were wrong. You always found yourself calling him and when he wouldn't answer, you would text him to make sure he was okay after unnecessary arguments he started over things like a shirt you chose to wear on date night. You fell for the constant gaslighting from him on purpose, because you would rather give him the satisfaction of being correct over something so stupid, than have him slam your door again on his way out. You would try to communicate your thoughts and he would always let out the biggest sigh with a mutter of 'here we go again' which immediately made your mouth go dry.

You truly loved this ungrateful person with everything you were, and it made your heart sick.

Toji was an unfair opponent against your defenses. You swore you wouldn't date anyone until you learned your selfworth and could recognize when someone was just with you for the good times, but he kept chipping at your stone-like exterior with those stupid pickup lines. You told him they were stupid and he said he knew it the second he searched them up, which made you crack up. The way he held eye contact with you after acknowledging that you had the saddest eyes he'd seen in a while, was enough to make you want to cry over the memory of how they got that way.

You went through the same motions that you went through with the last guy you spent your love on, this time with Toji. You felt that same spark. The attraction, the fawning over your conversations and how he delivered his words so smoothly to you. The nerves when he stared for just a little too long without saying anything. You felt ready to try again, so you gave Toji a chance.

Toji brings back your faith in love every once in a while. When he calls you first, when he texts you and asks what you're up to, or when he spam calls you while you're sleeping. He really has you starting to think that he cares about you and for spurs at a time, you let yourself truly believe it.

Then you have your moments where you get flashbacks to your last relationship. Moments where you felt lesser than your "lover" because he failed to reassure you or make you feel like you were enough for him.

Hey, mama. Was gonna stop by for some food before heading over.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the sound of your phone chiming. You know you shouldn't let yourself get too hopeful over something so fresh, but you can't help the way you feel when you see Toji's name pop up on your phone.

Okay, I'll get something later on. I'll see you here. Enjoy your meal :)

Actually, I thought i'd bring it over to your place and we could eat together. You hungry?

If you tell me you're full off a cup of yogurt, i'll tackle you once I get there. I'm so serious.

You don't like asking for things, especially when it comes to food. You have your ex to thank for breaking you out of that habit made for lovers and people who are comfortable with each other. Whenever you would go out to eat, he made you feel bad for wanting to try what he ordered, even when you said it would be in exchange for some of your food. The lowest moments were when he would show up unexpectedly to use your TV and just eat in front of you. He never asked if you were hungry or if you wanted a bite, and he never cleaned up after himself. It's no wonder you have trouble believing you'll be treated from time to time.

I did have my last yogurt cup today :( I'll pay you back for whatever you buy me.

Don't worry about it. I'll be there in a bit. And quit snacking, you'll ruin your appetite.

Once Toji got there, you ate together, talked about your days and so on, but the whole time you were measuring out how much you were eating. You don't know what would've happened if he had told you to slow down or to leave enough for him to take for his lunch the next day. You can't have that happen again. The first time your ex did it, it did a number on your ability to feel comfortable sharing meals with him. Now, you feel you're better off taking less when it's not something you bought.

"You didn't like the food?" Toji asks, muffled by the napkin he uses to wipe his lips of the remnants from his last bite. You only served yourself once, and the portions were small. "You've been watching me eat this whole time like you're still hungry."

You divert your gaze and look at the plate in front of you. "No, it was really good. I just don't want it to run out because of me."

He tilts his head and lids his eyes, an incredulous expression that makes you smile, sheepishly. He drags the takeout boxes across the table, towards your plate. "Have some more. I brought enough for both of us."

You look at the boxes before insisting again. "Don't you want leftovers for the week? I can always get something else."

"Ma... Eat with me, please." He nudges the boxes until they're right against your plate. "If you don't have your share, i'm gonna have to eat all of it by myself, and then i'm gonna lose my muscles and you won't like me anymore. Neither of us wants that, right?"

You giggle, turning to look at that ridiculously cute smirk that has victory written all over it. Rightfully so. As you serve yourself more food, you question his words of encouragement that gave you a reason to pick up your fork again.

"You don't wanna lose your muscles because you think I won't like you anymore?" The thought is ridiculous. You would still be very attracted to him if he had squishier cheeks and a little belly. Him having muscles is just a bonus to the man he is.

"Well, who wants to lose..." he trails off, becoming all too aware of the anticipating smile that graces your lips as you chew. You look adorable while stuffing your face. Now he's left to wonder who planted this lessening mindset into you. He wants to understand the reason behind him having to encourage you to go for seconds in the first place. You're so pretty, and you have the kindest soul. Who the hell would want to hurt you? "Yeah. That's exactly it, doll. I need you to like me."

Your hand goes to cover your mouth as you laugh with a mouthful of food. He looked so serious, not a quiver of emotion in his lips as he said that last statement.

"You're gonna choke," he warns with a grin on his face. He watches with amusement as you calm down and swallow your food before proceeding to laugh again until you're keening over in your chair. He can't find reason to be offended by your reaction when there's no ridiculing tone in the sweet sound. If anything, he feels a sense of accomplishment in his ability to make you laugh—to bring you joy.

"Oh god," you say, airily, as you recompose yourself, a couple smaller chuckles escaping in the process. "Sorry, that was... yeah." You clear your throat and smile as you formulate your response. You drop the fork so that you don't tempt yourself with another bite before getting this information out. "I like you, Toji. With or without the muscles. You're good to me." You shrug, as if that's the only thing required for someone to break the seal on the love you store.

The admission should make him happy. He should be feeling pretty good about himself after hearing those words from such a beautiful girl, yet all he can think about is how low your standards are. He has no doubt that you've been ruined. For crying out loud, you're tentative over how much you can eat from an abundance of food. Luckily, he managed to persuade you, this time. He has yet to find out about all your little hesitancies, but all he can do is hope he can redirect them next time, too.

The next occurrence is a few months later, and it's a lot tougher on you. You're watching as the man you're growing to love, is chatting with some girl who doesn't seem to understand the concept of personal space. You can see her turn her back to Toji as she continues the conversation, before attempting to back into him, under the guise of not looking where she's going.

The second Toji pulled out his phone, your blood started boiling. You don't understand. You've been through so much together these past few months, yet suddenly you feel like you're being thrown into the past. It makes you think of when your ex would pull out his phone to take pictures and videos during moments like these.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. To your surprise, it's Toji.

Baby, this girl won't leave me the hell alone. Can you come over here? She's trying to get touchy with me and things won't end well if she actually touches me.

Please, baby.

You couldn't control the pounding of your heart. All you knew is that it wasn't tethered to anger or feelings of being let down anymore. You slowly made your way over to Toji who looked as serious as can be. Not a quirk of his lips towards the chick who was all smiles towards him.

"Hey, sweetheart." His entire demeanor shifts. He has this smile on his face, similar to the one he wears when he missed you after not seeing you for a couple days. Your hands freeze in place when he pulls you in real close, his front flush against yours, all for a kiss. A handsy one at that. The woman is borderline disgusted at the public display of affection, mainly because he's cupping your ass. The kiss ends abruptly, and you're turned around in his hold to face the woman who still sports the nose wrinkles of discomfort at the scene. "This is my wife. You know, the one I told you about five times?" You're too dizzy on the moment to say anything about your sudden promotion, so you just smile and laugh nervously.

"We have three kids already, but we're trying for twins, huh, doll?" He can feel your body trembling in his hold, like you want to laugh but are holding it in for the sake of the bit. "Mhm," you manage to hum out.

"Good for you," the woman utters, distastefully.

"Right? Just can't keep my hands off her," Toji responds, dropping the smile he reserves for you when his eyes meet the stranger's gaze. "Let's go somewhere else. There's nothing good here," he whispers into your ear, to which you silently nod, with a giddy smile. He could tell the gesture worked to make the woman uncomfortable since she turned around. That's a victory for him.

He guided you past her with his hands on your hips. "Let's go try for those twins in the car, yeah?" He says, just loud enough for the woman to hear and lift her head again from what she was doing.

Toji didn't loosen his hold on your waist the entire walk back to his car. "What?" He asks once you're both in. He's been keeping an eye on that little grin of yours that hasn't disappeared since he kissed you in front of the lady.

"Three kids and we're trying for twins?" You repeat to him, as you reach for your seatbelt and buckle up.

"I didn't wanna scare you, but I almost said triplets," he says with a smirk, reaching back for his seatbelt.

"And..." you say, moving past that quickly to not work yourself up. "And when did we get married?" You continue analyzing his little show inside the supermarket. You saw something that threateningly tapped on the fragile glass that is your heart, but you ended up gaining more strength and trust in your relationship with Toji by the time you were out of there.

"You fell asleep through that part. Don't worry, it wasn't a huge wedding, anyway. Just you, me, and a random dog."

You know you love him in this moment. You're comfortable thinking it. Hell, you could say it with enough built up courage.

"Well then, where's my ring?" You ask, playing along with the joke. You expect him to tap out by now. It's too soon. Neither of you have said 'I love you' out loud, and this whole thing was just for fun. If things get weird, you could always tell him it was a joke and that you understand that it's too early to be talking about marriage.

He's digging through the side compartment of his car door, hoping to find something other than microfiber towels. By the luck of the stars, he feels something small and metal that could fit easily between your fingers.

"It's not a ring," he says, holding up a soda can tab between his index finger and thumb. It's not a ring, but the gesture is still enough to stun you. "Don't penguins do something dumb like this but with a boulder?" He knows they do it with a normal sized rock—or even a pebble— but he thinks you're worth acting like a total idiot for. Especially when it makes you laugh so hard that you're almost crying.

You take the metal tab from him with shaky fingers and just stare at it for a couple seconds. This is the closest you've ever gotten to a real promise.

"It's not a ring, if that's what has you so shaky," he says after surveying your pensive expression. "I know we've been together a while—well, not really— but these past months with you... I feel like they've carried a lifetime and a half." Now he feels nervous. There's tension in the air, and he feels like being even more stupid. The words are fighting to roll off his tongue. He feels jumpy with the adrenaline that's coursing through him. He just wants to say it already, to rid himself of this anxious feeling. "I feel like I love you, already, and it's alright if you can't say it back, right now. My feelings won't be hurt," he says, with a dumb grin.

You thought you'd be the first to say it. You were nervous for this exact moment that he dove headfirst into. You know you want to say it back, you can feel the words bubbling in your chest. As for your ability to speak, you've temporarily lost it. You can't even look at him because you feel like you're about to cry. This isn't the first time you've been told you're loved by a partner, but it is the first time it has sounded genuine, like it's not being said for something in return, like your body.

"Talk to me, mama. What's with the tears?" He swipes his thumb across your cheek to catch the tears that glide down your face.

You don't want to sob, but he's asking for you to explain your feelings. Toji is acting the way 'he' didn't, all in one moment. With every second of silence, you feel like you're crumbling.

"It's nothing," you respond, quietly. You know it's unfair to compare Toji to those before him, but you've been hurt too many times. It's all you know, so for him to introduce you to something new—something real— it's hard to instantly revert to the person who hasn't experienced so many letdowns.

"You're crying over nothing? Yeah, that's real believable." He turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt. "You expect me to just take your word on this when you're visibly bothered by something? I just felt the confidence to admit that I'm in love with you. Tell me something, baby."

It took you a minute, but you finally pulled yourself together. You reached your hand out for him to hold, and immediately, he took it. You squeezed his hand for emotional support, something that made him nervous.

"The guy I dated before you treated me like shit," you started. "He made me feel worthless. He drove my confidence to the ground, and I know you're probably thinking i'm stupid for staying long enough to be maimed by his actions..." You smile softly at the subtle shake of his head. No words accompany the gesture because he's just listening for now. "But, I was blind to it all, because I thought that deep down, maybe he just needed to be loved more... and that mindset did nothing but give him more power over me. He developed an incorrigible mindset of 'I can do these things behind her back because she'll still love me anyway.'"

You think back to the hurt you felt when your ex showed up to your place smelling like another girl's perfume. He called you crazy, overly jealous and obsessive, claiming that he just hugged a friend, and when you pointed out the red lipstick on his jaw, he threw his hands up and stormed out of your home like he was done with your delusions.

"You were taken for granted. Please don't ever compare me to that dickwad. If I ever... fucking hell, I don't even wanna come up with an example of something that bad." Everything you just told Toji made him feel so much. He felt livid at the man who made you feel disposable and he would wipe him off the face of the earth in a heartbeat. His heart clenched at the sadness in your eyes—the tears wasted on someone who lost you. He's happy to have found you before you fell into the wrong hands again because he can't get enough of you. He would see you every hour of every day of the week if he could.

"Sounds like he mistreated you. Really, really badly, mama." This time Toji squeezes your hand because he can see the pain return in your eyes. He just wants you to be happy with him. He practically proposed with that soda can tab. The engagement will remain a secret until you're actually ready to become his wife, but he's looking forward to the moment in the future where he can say you were engaged by the six month mark of your relationship. "But I have you now and I'm not gonna make things hard on you. All I ask is that you're open with me about anything and everything, alright?"

Being around Toji feels like a constant warm hug. He treats you well, he makes up an entire fake family with you to ward off unwanted attention, he checks up on you even when he can't physically see you, he's understanding, and he professed his love for you. You feel ready to say those words back. You want to give happiness with Toji a chance, even if it means these things from your past will continue to come back to bring on any doubts. It's something you're willing to work on if it means you'll have all the love you give reciprocated.

"I love you, Toji. Not as a response to you saying it first, but because I mean it and you make me happy."

Despite the smirk that creeps onto his face, he's relieved to hear the words coming from you. Yeah, he said it was okay if you didn't say it back instantly, but had you not said it between then and when it was time for him to go home, the thought would inevitably infest his thoughts. He'll constantly wonder when you'll say it and how you'll say it. Your rendition turned out better than he could've imagined. The portrayal of you in his head doesn't even come close to what he gets to see in person, so to see and hear you uttering those words was beyond anything he could have made up in his mind.

"I would've fought tooth and nail to earn those words from you, doll. You know that?"

You smile, feeling giddy at the sound of his proclamation. "Really?" You question, giggling to yourself.

"Really," he confirms. He reaches for his seatbelt and buckles up before starting the car again. "Don't lose the soda tab I gave you. You still have it, right?" he asks, turning to you once more before he starts the drive back to your place.

"It's right here." You hold it up for him, smiling at his reference to penguins when he gave it to you.

"Good. Now, keep that until it turns into an actual rock."

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hii I love your work!

Could you do a (romantic but.. crush stage) headcanon of Alastor helping the reader and the reader gives him a kiss as a thank you and Alastor is like "what the hell was that?" Reader genuinely feeling bad for kissing him and Alastor says "you should be sorry" but then Alastor starts to constantly help the reader (even more than before) and everyone in the hotel knows what he's doing but reader is dense. Then eventually alastor just bursts into her bedroom shouting "FOR FUCK SAKE WHY WONT YOU KISS ME" (maybe not that but same energy)

Please and thank you :>

I'm just gonna...combine these two...

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being jealous, DOORS, Saucy?

Description: ☝️⬆️

You gave affection freely to those around you, everyone got a hug or a small peck on the cheek

So when you're struggling with something and Alastor helps you out? It's only natural for you to give him a quick kiss on the cheek

It's his reaction to it that makes you think you made a mistake in doing so, his body going stiff and gaze dark

You step back as you start to notice a green haze around him and the glass on his monocle cracking

"Don't you ever do that again, my dear."

"I'm-I'm sorry, Alastor-"

"You should be."

And just like that, he's back to normal, carrying on like nothing had happened and humming a jolly tune

But you still feel so guilty for making him so uncomfortable, that was the last thing you wanted

So you work hard to do better, to respect his boundaries and keep a respectful distance

It's not until later when Alastor has time to think about it that he actually realizes that he kinda enjoyed it

And that he's envious of the others who now freely get to soak up your attention and affection for doing little tasks

Like Husk getting scritches and scratches under his chin because he carried a box for you

Angel getting a warm hug with lots of nuzzling and cooing, all because he used his multiple arms to help you cook

Vaggie sheepishly accepting a thank you kiss because she caught you when you almost took a dive down the stairs

Charlie and Niffty are the worst offenders, always helping you and just eating up your praise and hugs

And now whenever Alastor helps you... you just give him a meek thank you and dash off

He's left there waiting for his hug and kiss that won't ever happen

He's not jealous, he told you not to thank him with physical affection

He just didn't realize that he was shooting himself in the foot when he snapped at you

So he starts trying to tempt you into it, taking every opportunity to help you out with every little thing

Alastor will physically shove the others out of the way in order to be the person who helps you out

And he never gets the proper thank you that he's looking for

It's getting to the point where you're driving him insane with those kissy lips and warm embraces

Why won't you just fucking give him some attention!? Oh yeah. Because he ruined it for himself

You do tell him that you're grateful for him and his help, sweetly smiling at him but keeping yourself at a distance

But it's not enough, he wants what everyone else is getting and then some

He hates being excluded or not being special and it's even worse when it comes to you

Alastor's thin patience suddenly snaps when one day while he's out running errands with you

The two of you bump into Zestial and the great overlord opens a door for you, earning a soft kiss on his cheek

It would almost be cute watching you struggle to do that, considering Zestial's height

But instead...Alastor is fucking irritated 😤

Zestial takes it well and you continue to run errands with Alastor for the rest of the day even though he's visibly sulky

His ears are bent back and his eyes are furious

You wonder what you did wrong

He's a bit distant from you for a couple days after that and you miss having him around

Even if you couldn't be with him, you still liked hanging around him and spending time with him

Just when you're starting to feel sorry for yourself and thinking you did something to offend him, wandering the hotel

He shows up by your side and grabs you, miraculously stopping you from almost falling into a fucking hole in the floor that wasn't there yesterday

Charlie is to blame somehow

You're just so happy to see him hanging out with you again that you hug him out instinct

Only to realize you fucked up and try to pull away-

But Alastor's firm grip on you stops you from moving, and he's looking at you in a way that makes your face heat up

"U-uh...um...thank you...Alastor..."

He tuts at you while shaking his head, pulling you flush against him as he leans in closer

"Words won't suffice anymore, my dear~ I'll only accept one thing as payment for my heroic services~"

You definitely don't melt when he suddenly kisses you and if your arms find their way around his neck then...

Who are you to deny him his payment? Kiss that bastard until he's crawling away and begging for mercy

Me hoping I didn't just shoot myself in the foot by bringing up the door thing again..

[holylulusworld]

Stumblerella (2)

Summary: You’re clumsy. Luckily, a hero moved in right next to you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: clumsy reader, fluff, retired Steve

Catch up here: Stumblerella

Today, Steve follows you around the grocery store. You wanted to go to town to buy groceries after your last trip ended up in ashes. Literally. Once again, your shopping bags caught fire.

Yesterday, your car tried to kill you again, and we don’t want to talk about the sink spewing food at you. Your shower gave you only pink water, and your lights flicker all the damn time.

Steve is sure there must be someone out there manipulating your life to mess with you. No one can be so unlucky.

Ever the hero, Steve decided not to leave your side before he found the villain making your life harder. He doesn’t understand why anyone would want to harm you. You’re a ray of sunshine, friendly and kind.

“Did you listen, Steve?” You ask as he is engrossed in surveying the grocery store. Steve whips his head toward you, nodding slowly. “We need pasta and broccoli. Oh, and you wanted some apples.”

You check the list again, crossing out another article. “How about I invite you over for dinner? Your oven could explode or something.”

You giggle as Steve is worried about you again. Since he got to know that strange things happen around you all the time, he tries to keep you safe. Mostly by sticking around.

“I’ll get the rest of the list; just follow me around.” Steve takes the list out of your hand. He already manned the shopping cart, but you don’t protest. Steve was nothing but helpful over the last few weeks, and you don’t want him to think you’re ungrateful.

“Do you want me to cook for you? I could make a pie too,” you ask while following Steve toward the next shelf. “Maybe this time the oven won’t try to kill me.”

Steve chuckles, but worry colors his features. “You can come over to my place, and we can cook together. I’m not much of a cook, but we can try together.”

“You are worried my oven will eat me, right?” You playfully punch his upper arm. “I’m hoping the bastard won’t try anything tonight.

“Let’s hope for the best…”

Steve drove you home and invited you over for dinner a second time. You agreed and wanted to change clothes. He happily told you he’s going to prepare everything when you step inside your house.

Only seconds later, he heard a loud thump, followed by a scream. His instinct kicks in. Muscle memory helps him break through your door and run upstairs, only to find you helplessly lying under your wardrobe.

“Y/N! Doll! What happened?” He easily lifts the wardrobe, immediately checking on you. “Do not move. I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Steve,” you sigh because he came to your rescue once again. “I’m good, thank you. I only wanted to get a shirt and shorts, but then the wardrobe tried to eat me.”

Steve snorts at your words. “That’s it. I’ll bring you to my place. We will pack a few of your things, and you can have my guestroom. I want to inspect your house, car, and your surroundings. This is not normal.”

“I know.” You sniffle as Steve helps you get up. Luckily, a few bruises and a broken ego are the only damage the wardrobe did. “It all started a few months ago.”

“Y/N, when exactly did it start?” Steve looks at the wardrobe, frowning, as if nothing seems to be wrong with it. It’s sturdy. There’s no logical explanation for what happened.

“Uh—” You close your eyes and try to remember when the first accident happened. “I think shortly after you moved in.”

“I see…” Steve nods thoughtfully. “Let’s bring you out of here for now.”

“Tony, I need your help.” Steve is pacing his living room. You didn’t cook. Steve ordered takeout and tucked you in after dinner.

You easily fell asleep, knowing Steve is there to protect you. “Someone is terrorizing my neighbor. I’m afraid they are doing this because of me.”

He tells Tony your name and address, asking for help. Steve won’t let anyone hurt you. Not on his watch.

Whoever is messing with your life will regret it…

[rubyvhs]

better than this | d. winchester

synopsis. dean notices how close you’ve stuck by him ever since you’ve decided not to kill cass tags. 0.9k words, some angst, some mysoginy (dean’s thoughts), series not in order, I’ll just write when I feel like it. the beautiful @daylighted gave me the idea, can’t believe I actually wrote something guys, it’s cause of dahlia <3 series masterlist

Dean found it weird that you were hanging around the Winchesters without you sticking to his side, now it's just creepy. You're everywhere. He can't get a break— and at first he thought that was a good thing because he liked being around you but it's honestly getting ridiculous.

"Hey," He doesn't get past that because you jump up and off the couch to run over to him. Great, your enthusiasm is as much flattering as it is irritating, "Cass, you have anything?" He pours himself a cup of coffee, a headache coming on strong from having gone to sleep with a full stomach.

It happens sometimes but he doesn’t mention it to anyone, just lets the coffee work its magic. Except he doesn’t have the chance to do that because while Cass is explaining to Dean that the angels are now executing a larger plan, your hand is wrapped around his more arm and the headache is just gone.

He jumps away, his coffee just near dripping but he catches it in time. "What— what did you do?"

"I healed you."

"I know that! Why did you fucking heal me?" The look on your face almost makes him regret yelling but he stands his ground, his hand burning from the hot coffee but your response is the only thing that'll make him move from his spot. 

"Because you were hurt."

"I wasn't hurt, and you usually ask before you do that, you know?"

Cass perks up, "Yes, he has mentioned countless times how important consent is." When it’s put like that… stop. Dean is not a chick. "Wait, you healed him? You know you shouldn't do that."

Dean's eyebrows furrow. "Why not?"

Cass looks up from the laptop, sensing Dean's change in demeanor. "Oh, well, you have angel blood in you, don't you?" Dean's about to deny the words religiously but he doesn't stop. "It makes it harder for you to get hurt, just as it makes it more difficult for us angels to heal you. It takes more power than if you were a mere human— and you," he faces you, "you're not strong enough to heal even people."

"Not strong enough?" 

"Yes. Before he left," Dean doesn't have to ask who 'he' is, "he made one last generation of angels. There are arch-angels, angels, and guardian angels. She's a guardian angel." Dean wants to hear more but when he looks over at you, your eyes are narrowed and the only thing your missing is steam out of your ears. Alright, testy subject. 

"Okay, whatever. What do you have, Cass?" He asks and tries to listen to Cass but his eyes keep straying to you, still bubbling, still so damn gorgeous. Still so wrong.

"She's always everywhere! Tell me you don't see it." Dean whispers aggressively but his brother only laughs. They pass the corner, Dean slams the beer cans into the shopping cart and Sam scoffs.

"It's not that big of a deal, man. So she cares about you, what's wrong with that?"

"She doesn't 'care about me', she's like… attached to me! It's creepy, Sam." The taller brother's response dies on his tongue as they make a turn around the corner and she spots your eyes on them from outside the store. Shit. 

"She can hear you." Dean immediately looks around, sighing in relief when he sees you're outside. "She's an angel, asshole. She heard everything." Dean turns around and your face only falls further, getting in the backseat of the car. 

The drive to the next town is quiet, like most of them, except for the cassette Dean picked out. The volume is slightly higher than usual though and Sam notices so he offers a gas station break that Dean gladly accepts. 

The second Sam's out of the car, pulling Cass behind him, Dean looks back at you, "You know I wasn't trying to be mean, right?"

"You were though."

"You aren't actually— look, you're not my guardian angel. They only call you that because, and no offense, you're weaker than the others. It's a name they gave you, but it isn't your purpose."

"It's not a name, it's a title. So it is my purpose. I'm supposed to guard you but you don't want me around—"

He sighs, pinching his nose. "Uncross your arms." You listen to him. "And looks at me." You pry your eyes off the window to glare at Dean. "It is not your—"

"Don't tell me what my purpose is! I like protecting people."

"Okay, great, maybe just cool it on trying to protect me, okay?" You shake your head. "Why not? I can take perfect care of myself, darlin', I have for twenty nine years."

"I have been in this world for centuries. Many, many, many centuries. I am weaker than the other angel but a thousand times stronger than you, Dean Winchester, and yet you underestimate me." Your soft sigh tugs on something in his chest. "And I don't know why it matters so much to me."

Sam chooses that moment to rip the door open and Dean starts arguing with him about it, his eyes still on you in the rear view mirror. He won't let you stay angry for long, a few nice words will get you smiling again. And never questioning your closeness.

join the taglist. @loverslantern @justwhisperingfantasies @saltcxrcle @blossomingorchids @darling-eos

@ltotheucyy @1967barracuda

[tetzoro]

THE GAZE OF A THOUSAND SUNS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. mihawk !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : mihawk has been called in by the government and has to leave you at the mansion by yourself for awhile. its the night before he has to go and he wants to give you something to remember

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, established relationship (they’re in love love), unprotected sex, use of petnames (darling, my love), lots of praise, multiple orgasms, creampie, pillow talk — WC : 2.2k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : thank you to nesi for the title teehee so yeah once again i’ve gone insane over a swordsman . i had so much fun writing this .. enjoy !! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

mihawks magnificent eyes were blown out, eclipsing suns that gave into its greatest desire, letting them consume it until all he was left with lustful pools of darkness in his irises.

“do you want this?” he asks, his sharp breath fanning over your face, cutting back all the layers to you so he can peer right into your core. his fingers deftly cup your chin, keeping your focus on him.

“yes.” your voice is barely above a whisper, threatening to fold under the intensity this man gives out. so commanding with so few words, his aura is like gravity — pulling you under him and casting you in his orbit for as long as he sees fit.

you just hope it lasts for a while.

“then you have me.” as simple as that. mihawk didn’t mess around with games, with the push and pull dynamic. if you were to be a brat, that’s one thing. but when he’s got you laid out before him, sprawling across his deep wine satin sheets is another. 

tonight was all about pleasure. mihawk loathed leaving you alone and he knew it was only a matter of time until the government summoned him for his next task. the things he’d do to keep you safe and content are endless and as long as he puts up with the government, it offers you some sort of peace.

“i don’t want you to go.” you mewl out, fingers weaving into the threads of his hair, latching onto him subtly as a quiet order to stay.

“i don’t want to leave you either, darling.” he ducks down, unable to hold back anymore as his lips brush against your. careful at first, before your tongue pokes out to brush along his lip.

with a grunt, he melts into the kiss, the sweet, saccharine taste of your lips lures him in like his favorite bottle of wine. the taste so full bodied and unique that he couldn’t find anywhere else in the world, one of the things that kept him coming back to you.

drunk on your love, mihawk presses your body against his, his knee slipping between your legs and giving you some reprieve as you grind down onto him.

he doesn’t let up, stealing your breath straight from your lungs as if it would save him, giving him the strength he needs for the battle that is surely coming.

“mihawk-“ you gasp out his name, oxygen pouring into you as you pull away. his lips don’t go far, lingering near yours as he waits to hear you out before he latches onto you once again. 

silently, he lets you guide him as you roll to the side, pinning him under you as you sit up and straddle his lap.

“oh?” mihawk smirks a little, adjusting himself so he’s comfortable under you, gazing up at you with all the adoration a heart can hold. “you wish to be on top tonight?”

“mhm.” you bend over, bringing your face close to his, fingers trailing down his bare chest. “it’s only fair i take care of you tonight.”

“and whys that?” he tilts his head to the side a little, curious as to what you were thinking. his eyes remained fixated on your lips, watching the way they move as you speak to him.

“because when you come back to me, you never leave me any room to do so.” you tease lightly, pressing a light kiss against his lips.

mihawk chuckles lightly. you weren’t wrong — anytime he came back to you he’d push you up against a wall and take you the moment he laid his sharp eyes on you. a primal urge to mate with you, solidify the fact he was home and you were safe. adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he fucks you until you’re both a heap of sweaty limbs tangled on his bed.

“then go on, my love.” his hands grip your waist, a strength that only comes from wielding his beloved sword, yoru. “have away with me.”

you grin, sitting up to untie the string behind your neck that held your dress up. in a swift motion, it’s undone, the top half of it falling and pooling above your hips — right where mihawk’s hands were. 

he bunches the fabric in his palms and slides it off of you, letting you maneuver yourself so he can take it all the way off.

absolutely mesmerized, his attention falls back onto you, hands reaching up to caress your breasts, pinching lightly at your nipples in a way that always leaves you squirming.

“your beauty is eternal, not even the gods could design someone as heavenly as you.” mihawk whispers, his voice soft as it delivers the love he held in his heart up to the one who keeps it safe. 

“mihawk..” you trail off, heat rushing to your cheeks. when the world slowed down enough for it, he’d shower you in lines that described only a fraction of the adoration he held for you. 

“yes?” the look on his face never wavers and a part of you wants to look away. instead, your fingers brush along his happy trail, feeling his lower abdomen concave at the sudden, welcome touch. 

“take these off.” you tug at his belt before starting to undo it, the metal clinking together as you thread it out of the loops of his pants.

he does as you say, taking off the rest of his clothes so you can properly straddle him now, his throbbing cock felt warm as it nestles against your folds, already soaking it with your essence. your hands roam along his chest, moving your hips along him ever so slightly to ensure he was properly coated.

“darling,” mihawk groans out, his fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs. “you know how i feel about teasing.”

flashbacks to the night you had many moons ago come to the forefront of your brain. teasing him to no end until his patience snapped, along with the ribbon you had tied his wrists with. once he started, he didn’t stop until the sun came up and the birds chirped in protest.

“sorry.” you breathe out, a small smile resting on your face, giggle tumbling from your love-bitten lips. “just making sure i’m ready to take you.”

“and when has that ever been a problem?” the glint in his eye is all too knowing. his palm runs down your thigh and in between your legs, a flood of arousal heats your core as his fingers prod your entrance, collecting as much as he can before swiping it into his mouth. “exquisite. you were made to take me, my love.”

with that, he leaves you no room for denial. your hand encloses around his hard length, thumbing along his tip as droplets of precum flow down from your touch alone.

he hisses in bliss, thrusting himself into your palm before you line him up to your entrance. slowly, you lower yourself on him, the sensation of him bullying his way through you has you squeezing your eyes shut — the pressure always overwhelming but tied so sweetly with pleasure your body doesn’t know how to react. but it knows to take him in anyway.

“you’re doing so well for me.” mihawks voice is strained, holding back his groans as he tries to ease you down onto him. but it’s futile, as soon as he finishes his sentence it melts into a groan that encourages you to push yourself all the way down.

gasping in unison, he bottoms out, filling you to the brim with his cock that makes its home in the depths that only he has ever carved out. 

“mm, mihawk.” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth, enjoying the friction of his coarse hair against your clit. “can feel you everywhere—“

“do you really?” feigning innocence, he presses his palm against your stomach. “here?”

“yes.” your head rolls back a bit, hips still moving slowly. mihawk thrusts up into you and you yelp, your gaze falling back down onto him.

“eyes on me.” his palm slides up, just over your heart where it beats for him, thumping against your ribcage as it longs to be free. “you feel me here?”

“everywhere.” you breathe out, covering his hand with yours as you start to move up and down along his cock. 

mihawks eyes flutter shut for a moment before his half lidded gaze falls onto you, hand falling from your chest and back to your hips. its subtle, but he guides you a bit, encouraging a consistent pace.

“doing so well for me.” he coos. the sight before him was truly striking; watching as you bloom into your own rhythm, pleasure etched into every feature of your face as you take what’s yours. “i must be the luckiest man in the world to have access to an angel like you.”

the praise seeps into your mind before spreading to every nerve in your body, lit aflame by the passion the man below you always effortlessly evokes. your hips never falter as you ride him, but the moment his hand slips between your thighs again causes you to jolt.

firmly, mihawk pushes his thumb against your clit, soaking up the cry of pleasure you let out for him. he plays with it for a bit, watching your body try to fight contortion, eager to keep the pace that was steadily bringing you to your high.

his fingers only elevate you, nudging you closer to the edge with a few precise motions. 

“‘m close,” you mewl, hands splaying along his chest as you go faster, chasing after the sensation you seek. “‘m really, really close.”

you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to but on some level you knew to tell him, subtly asking for permission as you aim to finish without him. the act of obedience touches mihawk, something he’ll have to reward you for later.

“go ahead, i want to see you let go for me.” mihawk lets out a low groan, surfacing deep from his chest as his abdomen starts to tighten as well. “i’ve got you, my love.”

euphoric, mind numbing, sensational. all the feelings that surround you as you release but couldn’t begin to express as your mind clears out any rational thought besides the man that coaxes you over the edge.

“beautiful.” he gasps out as you start to slump down, your climax taking more out of you than you anticipated. in a practiced motion, he rolls you under him, remaining buried at the hilt before he starts slowly thrusting into you. “just a little longer, okay?”

you nod, clinging onto him as his pace turns ruthless, chasing his high while hurtling you towards another one. the snap of his hips ricochet between the walls of the room, the sound of your cunt drowning out the small whimpers you let out.

“‘m gonna cum again.” you mewl, the back of your head hitting the plush pillow beneath you as your back arches up into him, bodies pressed together.

“cum with me.” mihawks voice is but a rasp as his lips kiss your ear, pulling back to cast another glance at your fucked out face, driving into you as if it was the last time.

with a cry of his name and a groan of yours, your body locks up in pleasure, trembling in his hold as he cums deep inside of you, shallowly thrusting to ensure it all stays where it belongs.

as soon as his hips still, he presses a kiss against your forehead. languidly, he pulls out of you, drawing out a whine from deep within. 

careful not to drop his weight onto you, he pushes down onto the mattress with his elbows, lightly kissing along the skin of your collarbone and up to your neck.

as you try to catch your breath, he tries to catch your eye. but stubbornly, you won’t give in.

“why aren’t you looking at me? don’t tell me you’ve gone shy.” he grasps your chin gently, bringing your attention back over to him.

those eyes. those piercing, molten gold eyes burn into yours and you can all but gasp. tiny suns replaced the soft irises, blinding you to everything except for him. to say you’re getting lost in them would be an understatement — you were sucked into his gaze, drowning in the light that he so readily provided.

“i’m not shy.” you squirm under his hold slightly, restlessness taking root in your body the more he carries on. 

“then what’s on your mind?” his fingers caress your cheek, letting you lean on him once again.

a pause.

“i’ll miss you.” you say softly, your voice a warm breeze that brushes against his face. 

“i’ll miss you too.” he sighs, dejected that he was ever tasked to leave you. mihawk rests his forehead against yours, maintaining eye contact as he soaks you in for the last time — at least for awhile. “i’ll return to you before you know it.”

“you better.” your hand snakes up and holds his face, thumb brushing along his bearded cheek before you lean in for another kiss. 

the last night between you both with uncertainty resting on the horizon, waiting for the sun to wake and steal away the only man you’ve ever loved.

but with every sunrise follows a sunset and like many times before, he will come back to you safe and sound. an insatiable beast that needs taming, your love bringing him back from the world of death and destruction and into the sanctuary you created together. an endless cycle that one day you hope he can be free from, but even so, you’d do it for him for eternity if you must.

thank you sm for reading ᰔ taglist : @kentophilia @oooohno @tetsuskei @littleleelee @moondust-lore @lixiawinter @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @gojipink @cloudpalaces @wrennyx ᰔ

[aarchengel]

Making Her Mine

Summary: Rebekah compels Elena to reveal her feelings for you and now your trust is betrayed. Rebekah seizes this opportunity to warm up to you as she has always found you attractive. Hanging out with her escalates to a make-out session as you relish your newfound feelings for her...

Smut, angst, a lil' bit of fluff

Elena cheating on the reader, Elena slander

3K

A/N: This is the first time I've published smut. I hope it's fine (I know it's horrible) otherwise just forget this happened... do let me know if you liked it. Happy reading!

Rebekah Mikaelson X Fem!Reader

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Rebekah was dragging Stefan by the arm to the high school library and you trailed behind them, compelled to do as the Original said.

Elena, your girlfriend of two years, gasps and stands up at your arrival. "Stefan, Y/N..."

You shot her a confused look, not understanding why was she so shocked.

Rebekah shot at the brunette. "Did I say you could move?" Elena shot her an exasperated look as she slowly sat down and you moved to sit near her.

She circled you people and spoke loudly in her accented voice. "Class is in session. You know the rules. Answer my questions honestly. No disobedience, no one leaves. April, my sweet, take notes. That's how you get answers in this town."

Her gaze lingered on you, which made you feel nervous and fidgety. Sure, you didn't show it, but she was a thousand-year-old vampire who could kill you in the blink of an eye, who was currently eyeing you like a predator would do to its prey. "In the year 1114, my brother learned, thanks to yours truly, about a brother of vampire hunters with tattoos that grew with each kill. These tattoos revealed what, Elena?"

"A map" your girlfriend answered, looking down. "Which led to... Caroline?"

"A cure for vampirism."

"Perfect. So we're all caught up. Stefan Salvatore, the last time we saw each other, you had a vampire hunter. But in order to decode the map, you need the location of the hunter’s sword, which you got out of me by using some very dirty tricks. Assuming you found the sword, you also found the cure… and you’re all still vampires. Something went wrong."

She looked at April. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you asked me to take notes."

Rebekah sighed. "Oh, I wasn't being literal, darling. But now that you mention it, a flow chart would be nice. Which means index cards and push pins. Go fetch." The teen left.

At that very moment, the blonde Original appeared oh-so-tempting to you. The way she exercised control over all of you made you feel hot all over. It has happened quite a few times before. But you were with Elena and you had no tolerance for cheaters. There was just something about Rebekah that has always piqued your interest, but then again, loyalty was the most important thing for you. No one else but Elena had a place in your heart all this time.

Stefan grew irritated and straightened up. "You're wasting your time. We don't know anything."

"So you just gave up? I thought you'd do anything to save Elena. Y/N?"

Suddenly, all eyes in the room stared at you. The tension was so thick, you though a chainsaw was needed to cut through it. You sensed something bad and grew antsy under their collective gazes. "Why are you all staring?"

No answer. "Guys...?"

Rebekah spoke again. "I'm missing something. What is it?"

No one spoke. "I asked you what happened. You have to tell me."

Finally, the younger Salvatore brother spoke. "Elena slept with Damon."

You whipped your head around to look at the mentioned brunette. Hot, white rage was all you felt thrumming in your veins. You were known for your calm demeanor and excellent control over anger, but it was getting really difficult not to claw the doppelganger's eyes out. "What is the meaning of this?!"

The doe-eyed Gilbert just looked down and spoke nothing. She knew how much your relationship meant to you. She knew that once your trust is betrayed, it's over. She knew that loyalty was the most important thing in the entire world to you. And yet she chose to disrespect you. It made you feel so pathetic. Another victim of the Petrova charm putty in the doppelganger's paws. What a bitch. Your eyes burned with hot tears, threatening to fall down. Your throat choked and tightened, making it impossible for you to say another word. No. You thought. You wouldn't shed your tears for a cheater. Tears are so precious; blood flows from the body, tears flow from the soul. Never in your entire life you had felt so insulted and betrayed. I am going to ruin them, you thought. No, I mustn't waste a moment of my life on these worthless assholes. You decided the latter was a better option. No one was as crafty and cruel as you when it came to revenge. You would be consumed by the fire of vengeance. God, you thought you sounded like you were going on a bloodbath. But that's the dark beauty of you...

You subtly took a deep breath and leaned back, your face a stone-cold mask in which even the most observant couldn't find a crack. You felt Rebekah's searing gaze in your bones. And in some way, it made you feel safe. And damn you when you didn't know why...

"So vampire Elena is a trollop who likes bad boys, but it doesn’t explain why sweet, loving, innocent Elena could be so heartless towards Y/N. How could she hurt her like that? Answer, please." The Original said, looking at Stefan.

He sighed as he spoke. "She didn't know it at the time, but she was sired to Damon."

Rebekah smirked. "A sire bond? That’s fascinating. And what do you think about that, Elena?"

Elena spat at her, "I think you’re sad. And bored. And in desperate need of a hobby."

It angered but didn't deter the blonde. She compelled the Gilbert. "You're hiding something. Fess up."

"I didn’t sleep with Damon because I’m sired. I slept with him because I’m in love with him," she spoke in such a way as if she were proud of what she'd done. That was the last straw.

"Fuck you." You spat with so much hatred and venom, that no more words were needed to convey the message: we're over. Then you spun on your heel and stormed out, carrying a kaleidoscope of emotions and the weight of Rebekah's lingering gaze.

You didn't know it at the moment, but you and Elena breaking up might just be the best thing that has happened to the Mikaelson...

It was nearly midnight, and you were at your house alone. You ate an entire tub of vanilla ice-cream, and now you were feeling guilty about it. You could have downed that bottle of Jack and Daniel hidden in your closet, but you decided you were not going to surrender to Damon's coping mechanisms.

Your room looked like a lowkey brothel, complete with silk sheets, roses, scented candles, and dim lighting. Hell, you were dressed in flimsy lace pyjamas, finding them extremely comfortable. But in your taste, it was a much-deserved self-care session.

Flipping through the pages of an erotic novel for the past hour, you got bored. It was so smutty, all the protagonists seemed to do was have sex. You grew irritated, your sex life was in shambles.

Suddenly, the bell rang. At this odd hour, you thought it would be Caroline stopping by with some ridiculously expensive cosmetics for a girl's night in, a not-so-subtle attempt of hers to comfort you. You might've hated Caroline at the moment for keeping Elena's secret, but you guessed you could live with it.

Every pore of your being protested when you rose, wrapped your robe around yourself and climbed down the stairs to open the door. The last person you were expecting to show up on your door was Rebekah Mikaelson.

Your heart skipped a beat. She looked so hot. Like get on your knees right now hot in those tight jeans and spaghetti top. For the first time ever, you could admire her classic, almost divine, beauty without any inhibitions or restrictions. For the first time, you really seemed to take her in. And gods, she was a sight for sore eyes. And damn you for wanting to bite that red lip and tear off her clothes.

You snapped out of it when she smirked. The look in her eyes made you weak in the knees. You knew that she knew of the effect she had over you.

You cleared your throat. "Rebekah, was an entirely unexpected surprise. How can I help you?"

She smiled. "Well, for starters, you could invite me inside..."

You knew it was dangerous. But you were so desperately praying for something to happen. You didn't care about the consequences. You wanted her so bad, you felt it in your bones, the desire running deep in your veins.

"Alright, would you like to come in?"

She looked surprised for a moment that you gave in so easily. But then she smiled wide and said, "I would love to." Then she stepped inside. Your heart hammered crazily in anticipation.

"Where shall I keep these?" She asked, holding up her arms. Then you noticed that she had a couple of bags looped in her arms. "I brought wine and something to munch."

You softened. "Oh, you didn't need to..."

"Oh, of course I do." She smiled softly.

You helped her with the bags to the kitchen. "Rebekah, this is a lot..." you began but she waved you off. You couldn't believe that an Original vampire was in your house in the middle of the night, who brought very costly wine and snacks to last an entire month. The blonde standing in front of you was the supposed nemesis of your friends, but what happened today was your defense.

"But why?"

"Well, that doppelganger bitch hurt you, and I was the one who meddled and you found out like this. So I guess I owed you one."

"No, no! I owe you one. I probably wouldn't have known for a longer period of time and that would've been so pathetic."

"Still... well, I hate her and you do too. So I thought that it's not such a bad idea to bond over our mutual loathing for her and maybe plot our revenge?" She said with that cute little smirk, making me laugh.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Nothing cheesy."

"You think so? Elena ought to be the cheesiest girlfriend ever."

She rolled her eyes. "Thought so,".

"Come on,"

You guided her upstairs to your bedroom, and you were really, really nervous. Your heart was beating so loudly that you knew all too well that she could hear it.

Rebekah was in a frenzy of lust and excitement. She'd dreamt of this a little too many times and now it was real. You were the loveliest creature she'd ever encountered and she thought that you were really strong, funny and protective. And she really seemed to enjoy the not-so-decent outfit you were clad in.

The blonde glanced around your room and smirked in an almost-appreciative way. You felt a bit embarrassed about your clothes and your room, but hey, we all have those moments.

You put on a thriller on your laptop as you both sat comfortably on your post bed, with a huge bowl of chips to snack on.

About an hour must have passed in comfortable silence, and your dirty thoughts were put to rest for a while too as you focused on the complex plot of the movie. Then your patience was about to be tested.

An intimate scene was displayed on the screen and you froze. You became antsy as your thighs came in contact with Rebekah's hand. The tension in the room could be cut through with a knife. Your unbridled lust and roaring desire for her was consuming you and you couldn't control yourself as you turned to face her.

She was thinking the same thing as you and your lips collided. Your tongues fought for dominance as you explored every corner of her mouth, her doing the same.

It was a passionate, rough, and all-consuming kiss that had you moaning in her mouth and both of you had your eyes closed in bliss. She cupped your face while your hands tangled themselves in her golden locks.

It was so exhilarating, and you had just kissed... you were almost scared to know where the night would lead you.

Your lungs burned for oxygen but kissing her seemed the best way to die. Finally, you parted, gasping for air.

"That was..." you began, panting.

"Amazing," she finished, holding your eyes. You leaned in for another kiss, but she beat you to it. You kissed her senseless and your hands seemed to have a mind of their own as you began undressing her. Kissing her was your new favourite thing to do.

Her lips moulded perfectly into yours. The purpose of your life was to be hers, and at that very moment, everything was forgotten. She followed your actions and undid the flimsy lace and pushed you down, making you lie down.

The two of you were completely bare as your eyes met. You could drown and die in the blue ocean of her eyes. It was like being reborn. Her eyes held a challenge, promised an adventure and you reveled in the anticipation, the thrill and in her amorousness.

She raked her eyes all over your body and your every pore, every limb shook in bliss and ecstasy. "Damn, you're gorgeous..."

You smiled in satisfaction at her words and pulled her down to mesh your lips together.

Her lips slowly moved down to your neck, kissing and biting, leaving a trail of love bites all over. Lewd, wet sounds filled your ears as you flushed. She was a heady mixture. Slowly, very slowly, she moved down to the little dent at the base of your neck, then placed ticklish, feather-light kisses on your prominent collarbone. She kissed and licked through the valley of your breasts, down to your navel and your sensitive lower stomach.

She placed kisses along your waistline, making you gasp and moan into the silk-covered pillows. Your toes curled in pleasure when you felt her hot breath fanning over your womanhood. She had barely begun and you were already dripping wet.

The blonde moved down to kiss your inner thighs. So close but not giving you what you want.

"Rebekah, please..." you pleaded with her. Her eyes were a mixture of lust and amusement. "Please what?"

"Touch me!"

"Where?" She was such a tease. You grew frustrated and you grabbed her hand and guided it between your parted thighs. A loud, throaty gasp escaped your mouth as her fingers worked their magic upon your wet, slippery folds. You almost tore the sheets your fingers were gripping and you buried your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. But you decided against it. You wanted her to hear you. You wanted her to know just how good she was making you feel. Your body was so responsive to her touches .

Just then, her fingers hit that spot and you cried out in pure pleasure. You felt the pleasure building up and the sounds leaving your mouth resonated in every nook and corner of your house.

"Do you want me to stop?" she questioned innocently, but you knew all too well. "Shut up," you barely managed to say between your uncontrollable moans.

You wanted to tell her that you were going to reach your release, but the pleasure was too much and all you could think about was how good she was.

You started shaking and almost screaming as you reached your precipice. You quite literally saw stars as you came. Rebekah's gaze upon you was that of pure worship as she licked her fingers which were coated with your arousal. Then she leaned in to kiss you deeply and you could taste yourself on her lips. "You're so pretty..." she whispered, almost as if in a daze. You smiled and grabbed her my the arms, helping her lie down.

"My turn now," you spoke, aspiring to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You pulled her in for another searing kiss as you parted her thighs. Moving down, you maintained eye contact as you stuck out your tongue and tasted her. You'd never heard anything sexier than the gasp that left her lips when you did.

Soon, your tongue circled and lapped over her folds. Her throaty moans were music to your ears. You pulled back just when she was about to reach her high, deciding to use your fingers. Her sweet moans might as well would've been heard by the neighbours as you pleasured her all night long and to the breaking of dawn.

You both lay bare barring the sheet covering you as you watched the sun rise. To you, it felt surreal and as if it were a dream.

"I've wanted this for so long," Rebekah softly confessed. "When I met you first, I thought you were really pretty, like a royal. Your wit and wordplay is unmatched. I love how strong you are, how you don't need anyone to fight for yourself and how you're so ambitious. But you were with Elena and-" you silenced her with a kiss.

"You've no idea for how long I've wanted this too. But I'm afraid that with the arrival of the dawn, I'd wake up and all of this would be nothing but a dream." You spoke softly.

"Trust me, your screams last night were very real,"

You laughed as you kissed her. She pulled you into her arms for another round. And sure enough, the hickeys covering you were very real...

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

All the hoarder Alex stuff is making me want a lil ficlet, where reader takes him on a date and the restaurant keeps getting his order wrong

Really test his temper (and blood pressure medication)

Yeah of course! Gotta give some love to this Italian rat too. He deserves his flowers <3

...............

"W-What is this place??? Where did we get the money to eat here??? Did you sell anything of mine to-?!"

"No. This is all coming out of my pocket, Alex. I promise." With a small sigh, you did your best to calm your date: the ratlike entity in a jumpsuit who was addicted to hoarding items, especially those from morgues.

You figured that he needed a long break from his "duty" as bridge guardian in the Uncanny Streets, so you asked the Taxi Driver to take you both somewhere nice for the evening. Not the Purge Event, of course, but rather a small fancy restaurant on Night Hill.

Of course, Alex didn't like to stray from his collection for long...although at the same time, being away from it brought him some clarity, realizing that he should be focusing on you and this relationship. His last one ended on an extremely rough note, and he didn't wanna mess things up with you.

Even so, he still had some "separation anxiety", which was understandable.

"A-Ah..forgive me, caro mio." He stuffed his paws into his pockets, foot tapping against the ground rhythmically. "I'm happy that you've been planning this out for me. Really, I am. I just...haven't been away from the bridge for a long time, and I worry. What if someone tries claiming my stuff? Or they move it without a permit???"

".....you wanna just order the food to go?"

"No, no, no..it's fine. I won't think about it anymore." He chuffed, ceasing all tapping motions as he puffed his chest out. "I...will be a MAN who appreciates the DATE that his lovely PARTNER set up!"

"Alright, and we'll see how that blood pressure medication holds up, too." You mentioned.

He looked at you scoffingly. If you could see his eyes, they'd probably be annoyed....but only a little bit. "Look, I know you're worried for my health, but I don't think it's necessary. Why, I already feel much better!!"

"That's because it's in your system right now, working overtime."

"....ah. Si, si...th-that makes sense. Now then..." Alex gulped, taking your hand into his paw--which was only somewhat sweaty compared to earlier. "Shall we go?"

You simply gave him a smile back and walked inside the restaurant together.

Hopefully, you lasted longer than 30 seconds in here.

...............

"Unbelievable!! This is NOT the water I ordered! Waiter!!!!"

"Alex, have some patience. They're very short-staffed today-"

"Yeah? Well I have a short TEMPER! So hmph!!" Alex sulked back in his chair with displeasure. His tail flicked irritably as he looked around at all the other customers being catered to. "Seems like we're the only ones getting poor service...where's the manager?"

'God, I hoped and prayed that he wouldn't turn into THIS kind of customer...' You internally groaned, wondering how you could salvage this date.

Neither of you have even ordered food yet. All you had were drinks, his water and yours, and there was already a problem. He was already swift to criticize the service.

"Let's not do that right now. How about we look at the menu first?"

"...fine." Thankfully, he quieted down and gave the menu a thorough read, while you skimmed over yours and had a good idea about what you wanted to eat.

Alas, things only kept going downhill.

The one meal that looked appetizing to him wasn't currently available, and the food that he was willing to settle for ended up being something entirely different--something that he was allergic to.

He knew the moment the plate made contact with the table...and you had to make sure he didn't flip it as he cursed out the waiter for forgetting about his allergy.

Only for you to remind him that he didn't actually inform them about it whatsoever. Not even you knew what it was until right now.

Unfortunately, that's when the manager came by, overhearing his angry rambling, and threatened to kick you two out if he didn't sit down and shut up.

That alone finally made Alex listen, and you ended up switching plates with him so he didn't have a violent allergic reaction. He ate your meal rather grumpily the entire time, while you ate his, a silence falling between you both.

It was delicious, but it made you feel quite guilty considering he couldn't enjoy this food without it possibly killing him.

Then when the bill came around, there was an added fee tacked onto it due to Alex's apparent "general disturbance of the public", and once again....he was ready to chew out the waiter and argue with the manager, even though you were planning to pay in-full and didn't mind the tax.

He had his doubts that all of these inconveniences were coincidental, believing everyone in this restaurant was out to get him, take his "wares", and rob you blind.

During the taxi ride home, you wanted him to list at least three good things that happened.. He managed to get to 2.5, but that was better than nothing.

You'd consider it a successful date, since he didn't faint once, so that was a step in the right direction.

Still, you didn't think it would be so stressful for him, and you promised that the next one will be much, much better. You'll take him somewhere that didn't involve money and questionable customer service.

As long as he could stretch out his medication until then...

[waliminium]

Tailored Encounters

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader Warnings: implied age gap, fluff, light romantic tension, no major triggers Word count: 659 Summary: As the daughter of Frank the tailor, you’ve always been surrounded by impeccable suits and high-end clients. But none quite as captivating as Harvey Specter. When he starts making regular visits for minor suit "adjustments," you begin to notice a pattern: it’s not just the clothes he’s interested in.

The bell above the door chimed softly, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. You’d recognize that confident stride anywhere.

 “Harvey,” you greeted, glancing up from the workbench where you were adjusting a hem. “Back so soon?” 

“Frank in?” he asked, his tone casual.

 You gestured toward the back room. “He’s on a delivery run. You’re early, though. The suit isn’t ready until Thursday.”

 “Actually…” Harvey adjusted his already-perfect tie, his gaze sweeping the shop. “I think the cuffs on my last suit might be a little tight. Thought I’d stop by and have them checked.”

 You raised an eyebrow. “Tight cuffs?” You’d measured that suit down to the millimeter, and you knew it was flawless. 

“Yeah,” he replied, with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Snug.” 

“Uh-huh.” You fought back a grin, setting your tools down. “I’ll get the measuring tape.” 

He didn’t seem particularly concerned about the supposed cuff issue. Instead, he wandered around the shop, casually running a finger along the fabric bolts stacked neatly on the shelves. He lingered by the counter, watching as you prepared. 

“You’re good at this,” he said suddenly. 

You blinked, startled. “At tailoring?” 

“At everything,” he clarified, with a glint of something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes.

 The next day, the bell jingled again, and there he was—Harvey Specter, sharp as ever, holding an accessory box in his hand. 

“Forgot to pick up a tie pin yesterday,” he announced, setting the box on the counter. 

You gave him a look. “You don’t usually forget things.” 

He shrugged. “Even I’m not perfect.”

 You opened the box to inspect the pin. “This is the one you ordered last week. What’s wrong with it?” 

“Nothing.” He leaned against the counter, his smirk firmly in place. “But maybe you can suggest something better.”

 You rolled your eyes but humored him, pulling out a few alternatives. As you showed them, he asked, “So, are you always here, or do you take time off?” 

You tilted your head at the sudden change in topic. “Depends. Why?”

 “Just curious.” 

Later that evening, as you were locking up, Harvey strolled in again, no excuses this time. “You’re late,” you teased, holding the door open for him. 

“Had a meeting,” he replied smoothly. “I was hoping to catch you.” 

You let him in, flicking the lights back on. “Don’t tell me—another cuff issue?”

 “No,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.” 

You paused, caught off-guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” 

“Because you’re always busy in here,” he said, gesturing to the shop. “Do you ever take time for yourself?” 

You shrugged, fiddling with a stray thread on your sleeve. “It’s a family business. There’s always something to do.” 

“Maybe you should let someone else handle it for a night.” 

“And do what instead?” 

He smiled, but this time it wasn’t his usual smug grin. It was softer, warmer. “Let me take you out to dinner.” 

The next day, he returned—because of course he did. This time, there were no pretenses, no accessories to inspect. 

“I meant what I said last night,” he began, leaning on the counter. “Dinner. Just you and me.”

You crossed your arms, feigning skepticism. “Is this another one of your deals? Butter up the tailor’s daughter for a discount?” 

He chuckled. “No deals. Just an honest invitation.” 

You hesitated, trying to ignore the way your heart raced. “I don’t know, Harvey. You seem like the kind of guy who always has an angle.”

 “Not this time,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll even let you pick the place. No strings attached.” You studied him for a moment, searching for the catch, but all you saw was sincerity. Finally, you relented.

 “Fine,” you said. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his grin widening.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny! Can i have some nacho dip, spider web pops and hot cocoa please? With mick schumacher and wolff!reader? Thank you!

halloween menu - bakery menu

the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! submit your orders for the spooooooky season! thank you to everyone who has submitted so far, i am working through them as fast as i can!! happy halloween. <3

nacho dip: "seeing you with those kids makes me want one." + spider web pops: "the costume is meant to be scary, not cute." + hot cocoa: gentle/soft sex served by mick schumacher !!

tags: smut/pwp, married life, wolff!reader,

"aw, well aren't you a cute little vampire." mick chuckled as he leaned in closer to you. his arms wrapped around you.

you made a face, but folded closer to him. you wrapped your arms around him and pouted against his shoulders, "the wrong costume came."

"why, my love. you look amazing." he pulled away to look at you. he hated when you pouted. he didn't need to see his wife so sad.

you replied, "the costume is meant to be scary, not cute!"

the whole plan was to dress as a scary vampire, and hand out candy to the kids in the area where the two of you lived. but instead the orders must've gotten switched and you looked more cute than scary.

you pouted at your husband and he leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. you held onto him and said, "like, look at it." you pulled away and swayed from side to side, "i was supposed to scare the kids."

mick laughed and replied, "i'd say that you are already the scariest woman alive. but, that would be a lie." he cupped your face which only made you frown more prominent, "you're too beautiful to be scary. even a scary costume wouldn't hide your beauty."

you loosened the frown when he kissed you on the lips. you couldn't hold it against the costume for too long. not when your husband kept telling you how scary you looked (he replaced the word 'beautiful' with scary in all is compliments). he was earnestly trying and it made you feel a little better.

-

another feeling arose that evening. when mick handed out the candy. he wasn't dressed in anything too spectacular. he was in a batman t-shirt that was a little tighter than most. but, he was so good with the kids that came to the door.

he gave them hi-fives and smiles. he made sure to give them the full-sized bars and even waved to parents who were waiting in the distance. a few people recognized him and he was just friendly. but to see mick with the kids made you feel heated in the face.

it was no secret that you two knew you wanted to have kids. it was one of the first things you discussed when you saw one another. but with his busy racing career and your busy work-life, it was hard to fit a baby into your life. but there was a pull in your soul that made you think of something different.

maybe it was time to start really working towards having a child. when mick handed out the last for the candy and closed the door before he turned to you. you looked at him and gave him a bright smile.

you approached him and wrapped your arms around him. you held onto him tightly as you looked to him, your handsome husband. you giggled, "seeing you with those kids makes me want one."

he perked up at your words, "oh? really now? you want to have our own to dress up next year?" he held onto you and smiled. he leaned in and asked, "what would your father think? him finally becoming a grandfather."

you made a face, "oh my god, mick." you laughed. you held onto his arms and replied, "i think he'd blow a fuse like when i told him we were engaged without telling him we were dating." you held onto him a little tighter, "he'll insist that our baby has the wolff last name."

mick held onto you by the waist, "we can always hyphenate." then leaned in to kiss you. he wasted no time getting you into the bedroom for the evening. the lights were turned off so no one else came for last minute candy, and soon your husband unwrapped you like the treat you were.

he kissed the plane between your breasts once your dress was off and he held you by the sides, "mmm, taste sweeter than any chocolate." his cock twitched in his jeans. and when he eventually let go of you, you took him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him into bed.

you both took each other's clothes off. you pulled the t-shirt over his head and he got your bra and panties off. soon you were both left naked and his hands grazed across your skin with love and affection.

"my wife wants a baby." he purred, "i wonder if tonight will be the night. you and i finally make a family." he was your father's deserve driver but also his son in law. it was quite a situation, but you loved mick all the same.

you ended up on your back with your husband between your legs. he kissed at your chest as his large hands held onto your hips. you could feel the thrill of excitement through you as he rubbed his achy cock up against your needy slit. you two had done this hundreds of times, even before you got married.

you could fondly remember the time that you and him got intimate in the garage for the team and he made sure you knew how much he needed you after a good drive. there was one thing to drive well, it was another thing to have him drive you wild.

he eased his cock into you. you could feel it in the most intimate way. mick wasn't a rough lover, he never had been. he couldn't be rough with you, not when he loved you so much.

you knew some women loved to be roughed up in the bedroom and treated like a princess by their lovers outside of it. but, mick was gentle through and through. his stubborn wife who he loved more than life itself.

"shit." he groaned, "such a beautiful woman." he leaned in a little closer, "i wonder where you get all your beauty from. not your father." he chuckled, which only turned into a laugh when you playfully smacked him on the bare chest.

you held onto his forearms and he moved against you. his pace was gentle and filled with love as the two of you moved against one another. you could feel the love between the two of you as if you didn't know it already. you knew that your husband loved you more than life itself, that mick was the only one for you.

it felt so cheesy to think, but you knew in your soul that it was true. mick adored you, he loved you above all else. never in his life had he had the privilege to meet such an amazing woman, he told you that often. almost daily. so of course he wasn't going to fuck you till it hurt.

not when he could adore every curve you had, every slope of your body. when he kissed you once more, you felt his warmth. his love and he felt yours. two halves of a whole, lovers.

"mm, honey." you said as you shifted your hips a little. he got a better angle to thrust against you with. the bed moved a little under your movements as your eyes remained on one another.

he caught sight of every expression you made, especially as the pleasure rose inside of you. divine being, beyond beauty. he could feel the stutter in his heat beat as he made love to you.

"i love you." he said, "from the moment i saw you around the track. the first time you took me for a ride in the car. the whole time i screamed because i didn't know you were actually an amazing driver." he smiled at you, a blush high in his cheeks as he continued to move against you.

you giggled and felt yourself grow warm in the face, "you were that worried?"

mick laughed as he leaned in closer, "i thought it was all a plot to scare some sense into me by your father. but i realized that you are an amazing driver." he kissed you once more and the two of you continued to make love on the bed together.

the moans got a little louder when mick broke the kiss, the gazed at your heated body with lust thumping in his heart. beyond any words, you were beyond beautiful. you made mick excited all over at the knowledge that he got to marry you.

and that he was going to start a family with you.

he wanted nothing more, only you as he moved against you. the feeling of your cunt around his cock felt amazing. to make love to you bare left him hot all over.

the pleasure soon became too much for both of you. the heat between you two left you both panting heavily as mick went in for one last kiss. he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts which were spurred on by your hearty moans.

it was all erotic and it made the both of you yearn for each other more. the two of you rutted against one another until you both finished at the same time. he kept his hands planted on the beside under you and your hands were in his short hair.

he gave it a few more thrusts and then slowed to a spot. he kissed you on the lips once more before he gazed down at you. he smiled at you, "my beautiful wife...' he looked over at the clock at the nightstand, "the night is still young, so why don't we make the most of it."

and despite being filled with pleasure and heated all over. you were more than happy to straddle your lover's waist. he was right, the night was young. and you wanted to start your family.

-

"are you ready to hand out candy tonight?' mick asked as he got the beanie on his daughter's head, "this is your first halloween, miss wolff." he chuckled.

you watched from the doorway of your daughter's room while mick got her ready to 'hand out candy' which meant she got to sit on the couch with daddy and put on it's the great pumpkin charlie brown. you were dressed like a vampire for the second year in a row, mick joined in this year as a werewolf and your daughter as a little devil. dressed in a red onesie with a red beanie on with little fake horns on it.

"i bet she'll have a great time tonight. she'll be fast asleep by seven and we can eat all the leftover candy." you laughed as you approached your husband and wrapped your arms around his waist. you kissed his back, "mister werewolf."

he laughed, "well, my scary vampire wife, i would love that. let's just hope the kid's who come by don't scare her." he held your little girl to him.

when he turned to face you. the two of you kissed then you kissed your daughter's little round face, "yeah let's hope their costumes are cute. and not scary." <3