#ready for this to be my personality for a while

[mrsfancyferrari]

Our Doggie

Summary: 4 moments of you, the proud mom and Lando Norris, the protective dad of Chase Norris, the dog.

Song: Miguel - Sure Thing

Part 1 Author’s note: Happy birthday to my favourite boy! Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 5.8k

The sun hung high over the bustling Formula 1 paddock, casting a warm glow against the vibrant team banners fluttering in the light breeze.

The aroma of fresh coffee and fuel mixed in the air, tickling your senses as you navigated through the crowd, Chase nestled contentedly in your arms.

Lando walked closely beside you, his signature grin plastered on his face, a look of particular joy you loved to see.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, glancing down at Chase, who was blissfully oblivious to the world around him, his tiny paws resting lightly against your chest.

“Absolutely!” you replied, adjusting the fluffy cream-colored fur of your little dog. “I mean, if the internet exploded over how cute he is, I can't wait to show him off in person again,”

Lando chuckled, his laughter filling your heart with warmth. “I still can’t believe how many fans have taken an interest in Chase. I mean, he’s adorable, but it’s not like he’s driving a car,”

You shared an amused glance. “True, but I think we both know he steals the show everywhere we take him. With those big eyes? He’s irresistible.”

As you made your way towards the McLaren hospitality area, the familiar sight of Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc caught your eye.

To your surprise, both drivers were squatting beside their own dogs—Lewis with Roscoe, a distinguished-looking bulldog, and Charles with Leo, a spirited miniature longhaired dachshund. It was a rare sight to catch them both not in race mode, but at play.

“Hey, you two!” you called out, waving your free hand. “Look who we've brought along!”

“Oh wow, it’s Chase!” Lewis exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he stood up with Roscoe. The bulldog ambled over with a curious snort, eyes fixated on Chase.

“Is that our little Instagram star?” Charles teased, his accent thick with amusement as he crouched down, already reaching out towards Chase. “I’ve seen more of him than myself lately.”

“Guilty as charged!” you laughed, beaming with pride. “And this little guy is ready for his paddock debut for real.”

Lando stretched out his arm and playfully nudged you. “But first,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “let's see if these two dogs can keep up with the fastest little dog in the paddock.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lando. “Fastest? You realize he’s like, what? Two pounds?”

“Let’s not underestimate Chase. He’s a champion at heart!” Lando shot back, petting Chase’s head lovingly. “Right, buddy?”

Before you could respond, Leo dashed forward, tail wagging enthusiastically, and nudged Chase’s paw.

Chase blinked up at the Dachshund, seemingly unsure at first but then quickly warming up to the new canine friend. You felt a smile spread across your face; this would be fun.

“Looks like they’re already sizing each other up,” you said to Lando, who watched proudly.

Lewis rose, laughing. “I think all we need now is a proper doggy playdate. What do you say for a few minutes?”

“Absolutely,” you affirmed. “This could be a whole new Instagram series for me.”

The three of you found a patch of soft grass a short walk from the bustling hospitality area. The sun-kissed spot gave the dogs plenty of space to romp while the energy of the paddock buzzed pleasantly in the background.

As the dogs began to play—Chase scampering after Leo, who darted with boundless energy and charm—you leaned into Lando, who slung an arm around your shoulders. “You know, I didn’t expect today to turn out like this. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?” he murmured, his eyes glinting with affection.

“It really is,” you said softly, wanting to freeze this moment in time.

You looked over at the three furry friends, enjoying their newfound friendship, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Chase surprised everyone by catching up to Leo and tugging playfully at his tail.

“As long as they don’t dig up the paddock or cause chaos,” Lando added, chuckling.

“Who would have thought you’d become a dog dad this quickly?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Lando feigned distress. “Me? It’s all your fault! My life used to involve fast cars and loud engines, and now it includes this little ball of fluff demanding cuddles.”

“Looks like you’ve traded one love for another,” you smiled, leaning in to steal a kiss.

The soft brush of his lips sent a tiny thrill through you that never seemed to fade no matter how many times you shared these moments.

You watched as Roscoe plopped down beside Chase, who was busy barking up a storm.

“Is Chase bringing out the playful side of Roscoe?” you quipped, noticing the bulldog’s effortless charm as he nudged the tiny dog with his nose.

Lewis approached with a proud grin. “I think he is. I’ve never seen Roscoe this active since… well, forever, to be honest. We might be onto something with these doggy meet-ups.”

Charles laughed, joining in their amusement. “Next season, we might need to think about forming a dog team!”

With the race weekend in full swing, you felt a sense of peace that was rarely achieved in the high-speed world that encapsulated your lives.

The dogs chased each other in wide arcs, occasionally stopping to check in with their humans, tails wagging wildly. It was a cookie-cutter version of bliss—a world away from fast cars and flashing cameras, grounded in pure, uncomplicated affection.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue across the paddock, you and Lando settled onto the grass, Chase nestled comfortably between you.

“Can you believe they’re all sleepier than we are?” Lando mused, watching the dog pile settle down in a heap of fur.

“I can’t. It’s like they burned off all their energy in five minutes,” you laughed.

A thought crossed your mind, and you turned to Lando, feeling slightly more serious. “What if we brought Chase to more races with us? He could be a mascot of sorts.”

“I love that idea!” Lando grinned back at you, his eyes sparkling. “I can already see the team merch: Chase-themed caps or something. It’s perfect.”

As laughter filled the air around you, you realized that amidst the chaotic world of Formula 1, filled with roaring engines and high stakes, it was these quiet moments, shared with Lando and Chase, that truly defined your happiness.

You rested your head against his shoulder, knowing deep down that no matter where this journey took you, together, you’d always find the joy in life—the little moments that felt like magic.

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You sink back into the soft layers of your bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

The world outside is alive with the gentle trill of crickets, but here, in your sanctuary, the only sounds are the steady heartbeat of Lando beside you and the slight rustle of sheets as he shifts to get more comfortable.

You take a moment to relish this perfect calm after the day’s chaos, the two of you finally alone together after putting Chase to bed in the living room.

You can’t help but look over at Lando, his messy hair fanning out on the pillow like a halo, his lips slightly parted in that relaxed way that makes your heart flutter.

He glances up at you, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

“So, what should we do now that we have time?” you tease, half sitting on top of him, enjoying the playful tension in the air.

He raises an eyebrow, a grin breaking across his face as he fights to suppress a chuckle.

“Hmm, choices, choices,” he says, pretending to ponder deeply. “Should we play a game? Or maybe I could serenade you with my terrible singing?”

His voice dips into a mock dramatic tone that sends a wave of laughter bubbling up your throat.

“Terrible singing sounds perfect,” you reply, grinning as you mockingly glare at him. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to hear your off-key renditions of popular songs?”

“Hey, at least I’m better than the last guy who tried,” he shoots back, pulling you closer to him. “But, fine. You might be the perfect audience for my next hit single then.”

As he leans in, you stroke your fingers through his hair, enjoying the moment. It’s easy to forget about everything else with him here.

The chaos of your day fades, leaving only the warmth of his body and the sparkle of his laughter.

You leaned down closer to brush your lips against his. The kiss tasted like sweetness and laughter—soft and familiar. Just as you were about to pull back, Lando deepened the kiss, his free hand finding its way to your waist.

You melted against him, feeling the electricity coursing through your entire body. “If we keep this up, you might end up forgetting your song.” you murmured against his lips, smiling playfully.

But just as you find a comfortable rhythm, the door creaks open slowly, and you turn your head just in time to see Chase, your little dog, making his grand re-entry.

His tiny body clambers up the stairs with determination, climbing onto the bed with gusto. His tail wags furiously as he reaches you, giving you both a salute of excitement and wanting attention.

Lando bursts out laughing, his beautiful joy filling the room.

“Look who decided to join! Chase! You’ve missed all the fun!” Lando exclaims, rolling onto his back and reaching out for the playful pup.

“Seriously? I thought we put him to bed!” you giggle, scratching Chase behind his ears as he wriggles happily between you and Lando.

“He’s a tiny troublemaker,” Lando laughs, showering the little dog with love as he lifts him into the air. “Just like his human.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m not a troublemaker!” you retort dramatically.

Chase, ever the attention-seeker, wiggles in Lando’s hands, finally settling on your lap, looking up at you with big, innocent eyes. You can’t help but melt.

“Okay, but really, what are we going to do?” you ask again, this time scratching behind the little dog’s ears while seeking Lando’s gaze.

“How about this: let’s have a little movie night right here?” Lando suggests, nodding towards the television tucked in the corner of the room. “But we’ll need snacks, and I have a secret stash of popcorn hidden under the bed.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “A secret stash? Why wouldn’t you share this with me sooner?”

“It’s a special treasure reserved for awesome moments,” Lando says with a wink, and you can’t resist the charming way he always manages to make the mundane feel special.

“Alright, you win. Movie night it is!” you chirp. “But you better make that popcorn perfect, or…”

“Or what? I’ll have to serenade you?” he interjects with wink, causing a giggle to erupt from you both.

“You’d better run and get it, then!” you tease as you flail your arms dramatically, punctuating your point.

You watch as Lando slides off the bed, throwing on a T-shirt, not even bothering to get fully dressed before darting to the kitchen.

While he’s gone, you indulge Chase with a few more scratches and gentle rubs, finding solace in the way the small dog relaxes into your touch.

You love this moment, the cozy intimacy, and the way it feels like your little family is all together in this sanctuary of warmth.

Lando returns with a bowl of popcorn, grinning ear to ear like he’s just won the championship. “Tada! The prize for best boyfriend,” he announces, dramatically presenting the bowl to you.

“Now that is a worthy prize!” you laugh, taking a handful while he settles next to you, pulling both you and Chase into his arms.

You press play on the remote, the screen illuminating the dim room with the warm colors of the movie. As the opening credits roll, you lean back against Lando, enjoying his presence.

Chase shifts between you two, finding a cozy spot against your legs.

For a moment, the world outside feels far away, and it’s just the three of you. The movie is just background noise as you sink into each other’s company, laughing together, whispering jokes, and stealing kisses in between popcorn munching.

“This is perfect,” you whisper after a particularly funny scene, and Lando turns to look at you, his expression softening.

“It really is. Just us, our little family,” he replies, his voice low as he brushes a stray hair behind your ear. He shifts slightly, bringing you even closer, his warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“And somehow, with Chase here, it’s even better,” you add playfully, watching as Chase squirms to get more comfortable.

“True,” Lando agrees, laughing softly. “He’s the best addition we could’ve asked for.”

The night passes in a blur of laughter, cuddles, and shared popcorn, making memories that cling to you like the warmth of Lando's embrace.

As the credits roll on the final movie, you find yourself feeling grateful for this moment, for the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat next to yours, and the constant presence of Chase, who has curled up in a contented ball at your feet.

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” you ask playfully.

“Absolutely,” Lando says with a smile, kissing your forehead before stretching luxuriously. “Every day if that’s what you want.”

With that, you settle deeper into his embrace, feeling the warmth of love wrap around you, content in the knowledge that these quiet nights are the foundation of a happiness you hope will last a lifetime.

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You quietly opened the front door, careful not to make a sound that might wake your boyfriend, Lando, or your dog, Chase.

The remnants of a night filled with laughter and dancing still tingled in your veins, igniting a rush of warmth as you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment.

Your senses were slightly dulled, having indulged a little too freely in celebratory shots and frosty cocktails, but the sight of your sanctuary—a place infused with memories of lazy afternoons and cozy movie nights—brought a smile to your slightly wobbly lips.

You tiptoed through the narrow hall, the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla wafting through the air, welcoming you home. As you reached the bedroom door, you pushed it open ever so gently and peeked inside.

A warm glow from the bedside lamp illuminated the room just enough for you to catch the tender scene: Lando, with his tousled hair sprawled across the pillow, and Chase, curled up against him, both seemingly serene and lost in a peaceful slumber.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at the endearing sight.

Lando had always been a snuggly sleeper, and when paired with Chase—who had an affinity for cuddling—it was a charming combination that made your heart swell with affection.

You took a moment to soak in the warmth of the image before deciding to give yourself a refreshing moment, slipping out of your party attire and into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Once the steamy spray enveloped you, you let the impulses of the night wash away. The coolness of the bathroom contrasted with the warmth of the shower, and as the hot water cascaded over you, it washed away the heaviness of the night.

You hummed softly to yourself, chasing away the fleeting thoughts of wild dance moves and flirty conversations, focusing instead on the love waiting for you out there.

After a few minutes, you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a soft towel, the cool air of the bedroom brushing against your damp skin.

You glanced toward the bed and saw Chase stirring. He stretched slightly before lifting his head, his white fur glistening in the low light.

It was moments like these that made you realise just how precious this little family was to you.

And then, without warning, Chase unfurled himself from his cozy position and sprang from Lando's grip like a spring on a watch, bounding toward you with all the enthusiasm and sincerity only a dog could possess.

"Chase! Hey buddy!" you exclaimed, instinctively kneeling down and opening your arms wide.

He galloped into your embrace, nuzzling his nose against you as you laughed softly, your heart swelling with affection.

“I missed you!” you told him, scratching behind his ears, his tail wagging furiously. The rush of love you felt was intoxicating, and for a moment, all thoughts of your night out melted away into nothingness.

As you reveled in the sweet reunion with Chase, Lando stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The moment he caught sight of you kneeling on the floor with Chase beside you, a sleepy grin broke out on his face.

“Looks like someone was waiting for you,” he mumbled, his voice low and gravelly from sleep.

You smiled up at him, a little bashful. “I was just trying to sneak in and not wake you two,” you replied, feeling a subtle warmth creep over your cheeks. “But I guess Chase had other plans!”

“Yeah, he always does,” Lando chuckled, stretching and propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re home later than I expected. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was great! Just some dancing and drinks with the gang. But honestly, I couldn’t stop thinking about you guys. I was so excited to come home.” You paused, your heart racing a little as you spoke the words.

Deep inside, you knew there was something incredibly comforting about being home—not just in the apartment, but in the company of Lando and Chase.

Lando’s expression softened, and he sat up fully, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m glad. I was worried you might not come back for a while,” he teased, winking playfully. “I wasn’t sure how long I could have kept Chase entertained!”

You giggled, rising to your feet, both Chase and Lando now fully awake and alert.

“I can’t believe how snuggly you both look together. I wish I had a camera—cute overload!” Your heart fluttered at the idea that even in sleep, your little family brought so much joy.

“Speaking of,” Lando began, scooting over on the bed and gesturing for you to join him. “Come sit with us.”

You quickly hopped onto the bed, crawling between the sheets and cuddling up against Lando's warm side, with Chase settling in at your feet.

Lando wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You smell like fun,” he said, a teasing smile gracing his lips.

“Is that a compliment?” you retorted, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“Absolutely. Fun looks good on you.” Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss atop your head, sending a ripple of warmth through you.

“But I have to admit, I’m glad you’re home. It’s always better when we’re together.”

You nestled against him, resting your head on his chest as you felt the beat of his heart. “I feel the same way. It’s like I float through the night, but my anchor is always back here with you and Chase.”

Chase, perhaps sensing the tender moment between you, looked up with his big brown eyes and tilted his head, as though he were in on the secret.

You couldn’t resist giving him a scratch behind the ears, which only elicited a contented sigh from him.

"Aren't you the cutest little anchor?" you whispered playfully.

“That you are, buddy,” Lando said, reaching down to ruffle Chase’s fur. The dog responded with a delighted huff, wriggling his body in appreciation.

The three of you were a perfect triangle of comfort, an unwavering circle of love in a bustling world. Evenings like this were rare and precious—moments you cherished.

“So, what did you get up to today?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Your voice was curious, genuine interest lighting up your eyes that always captivated him.

Lando chuckled, turning to face you. “Oh, you know, the usual—work, a hundred walks and taking Chase to pee outside. I think he might be getting it.”

Chase, as if on cue, laid his head on Lando’s knee, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“Well, at least someone is satisfied with my work today,” Lando said, scritching Chase behind the ears, causing the dog to squint in pleasure.

“You’ve always had that effect on him,” you said, placing your hand over Lando’s for a brief moment, a simple gesture that spoke louder than words.

“I think he might like me more than you,” Lando teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Oh really? Is that so? Right in front of me, too? Chase!” You turned to the dog dramatically. “How could you betray your own best friend like this?”

Chase merely wagged his tail, blissfully unaware of the banter as if to say, “Sorry, not sorry,” before burying his face deeper into Lando’s lap.

Lando laughed. “I guess I just have the magic touch. It must be all those treats I give him.”

“Magic touch or bribes? You’re not fooling anyone, Lando.” You shook your head, unable to keep a straight face.

After a moment, the mood shifted a little. “We should go to sleep now, we’re meeting my parents tomorrow, remember?” you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

It was getting late, and the thought of the impending family gathering made your stomach flutter with nerves.

Lando nodded, but there was a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I know. I just... I want everything to go well. What if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll love you,” you assured him, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand soothingly. “Just be yourself. You know how to charm a crowd, especially with your goofy jokes.”

“Right, my jokes,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head. “I think I’ll save the ‘dad jokes’ for later. Maybe I should just stick to polite conversation.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “Polite conversation could go far, or it could bore them to tears. They’re going to want to see the real you—silly, charming, and maybe a little awkward.”

“Awkward? Me? Never.” Lando feigned shock, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. “I’m the epitome of cool.”

“Sure you are.” You smiled knowingly. “But I promise you, they will appreciate your quirks more than you think. They just want to get to know the guy their daughter is dating.”

Lando sat up a little straighter, his posture shifting into something more serious. “But what if they have questions? What if they think I’m not good enough for you?”

“Lando, stop worrying.” You leaned in closer, taking both of his hands in yours. “They’re not expecting anyone perfect, just someone who makes me happy. And spoiler alert: you do.”

He smiled, the tension crumbling between you like a sandcastle washed away by the tide. “Thank you. I guess I just want to make a good impression on them. You mean a lot to me.”

“And you mean a lot to me,” you replied softly. “The sooner you realize that, the easier this will be.”

With a deep breath, he nodded, clearly trying to shake off his nerves. “Okay then. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Breakfast at the diner down the road, then to their house for coffee. We’ll take it easy,” you said, pulling your legs up onto Lando's to move closer, snuggling deeper against him.

“Sounds good—unless they try to feed us the mystery casserole,” Lando joked. “Then we might have a problem.”

You laughed. “I can’t promise they’ll have their best dish on that day, but I’ll bring backup snacks, just in case.”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.” He leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.

The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, a shared moment that felt like a promise to tackle whatever came your way.

Chase stirred slightly and stretched, yawning wide as if sensing the change in atmosphere before settling back into a comfortable position.

“I think he approves of the plan,” you whispered, glancing down at the sleepy dog, who seemed perfectly content in his little world.

Lando smiled, squeezing your hands gently. “I’m ready, then. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be great.”

“Definitely,” you said, feeling the drowsiness creeping in. Both of you started to settle in as the soft evening light faded into nighttime.

As you both surrendered to sleep, you felt grateful for this little family you had created together, intertwined through laughter, love, and even the occasional awkward moment.

Tomorrow would come with its challenges, but with Lando by your side, you knew it would all be worthwhile. . . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You stood in the kitchen, a whirlwind of activity, as the smell of vanilla cake filled the air.

The clock ticked loudly in the background, each tick a reminder of the approaching moment when you would yell, “Surprise!” at your boyfriend Lando. Today's special occasion wasn't just any day; it was his birthday, a day you had been secretly planning for weeks.

You glanced towards the living room where you had set up decorations—streamers trailing down from the ceiling, colorful balloons bobbing in a corner, and a plethora of gifts waiting to be opened.

Family, friends, and their dogs had all pitched in. You couldn't wait to see Lando's face when he walked through the door; the surprise was your gift to him.

Chase, your fluffy golden retriever, sat obediently at your feet, his big brown eyes reflecting your excitement.

Normally, Chase was skittish around crowds, but you had coaxed him into staying close to you tonight.

“Just a little longer, buddy,” you whispered, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. “You’ll love seeing Daddy happy.”

The door swung open, and in walked Lando, his casual charm lighting up the room. You felt your heart flutter as you quickly gestured for everyone to hide.

The guests stilled their chatter, and you barely contained your excitement.

“Lando! You’re home!” you shouted, breaking the silence as he stepped inside, catching him off-guard. His brows furrowed in confusion before slowly transforming into realization.

“What is all this?” Lando’s voice was a mix of surprise and delight as his eyes roamed over the decorations, resting finally on the cake adorned with candles burning bright.

“Happy birthday, Lando!” you and the rest of the guests cheered, stepping out of your hiding spots with wide smiles.

Lando's face lit up brighter than the candles on the cake. “Wow, you did all this for me?” he asked, his voice warm. You could see the corners of his mouth twitch with disbelief.

“Of course! You didn’t think I’d let your birthday slip by without a party, did you?” you teased, walking over to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, lifting you slightly off the ground.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured into your hair, warmth radiating from his chest. You could almost forget the anxiety that had plagued you in the days leading up to this; seeing him smile made it all worth it.

After he greeted everyone, the cake was brought out, and the group gathered around him to sing “Happy Birthday.” You led the cacophony with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Lando chuckled, his face a perfect blend of bashfulness and joy as he blew out the candles, the wish dancing on his lips as he stole a fast glance at you.

As the cake was sliced and laughter filled the air, Chase had managed to find a cozy spot on your lap, grateful for the peace among the noise.

In fact, he looked slightly puzzled by the whole gathering of unfamiliar spirits surrounding him, opting to bury his head against you as if it might provide an invisibility cloak.

“Isn’t he the cutest?” a friend commented, pointing at Chase who had planted himself firmly into your lap.

You stroked his soft fur, providing him with reassuring pets. “I think he’s scared of us,” they added.

“He’s just a bit shy,” you replied, glancing down at Chase, who only lifted his head slightly with a soft whimper. “But he’ll warm up soon.”

Just as you were talking, Chase began to wriggle around unexpectedly, clearly seeking something—or someone. You could feel his eagerness in the way he shifted, nudging you.

“What is it, buddy?” you asked, slowly allowing him to move from your lap.

As if freed from a loose leash, Chase bounded towards Lando, catching him off-guard. His tail wagged with enthusiasm, sending a nearby glass teetering toward the edge of the table.

Lando’s face broke into a joyful grin at the sight of his dog coming alive, and it made your heart swell.

“Hey, Chase! You’re finally here!” he said, kneeling down as Chase found his place in Lando's arms.

The transformation from the scared pup to the ecstatic dog was instantaneous, and you couldn’t help but smile as Chase began licking Lando’s face animatedly, as if to say, “Happy birthday, Dad!”

“This is the best birthday gift,” Lando laughed, glancing back at you with his eyes sparkling with love. “Thanks for bringing here! Look at him! He’s so happy!”

You watched as Chase’s little tongue continued to bathe Lando’s face with affectionate licks, trying to express his own birthday wish. “Better than any present I could give you,” you said softly, crossing your arms while leaning back against the counter.

“You’re right about that,” Lando replied, grinning despite the slobber.

“And you know you’re the best present I could ever ask for.” His gaze lingered on you, the warmth of his affection palpable in the room.

As the evening wore on, laughter and chatter filled the house, enveloping everyone in a cocoon of joy.

You walked back to find more snacks for your guests, the melodies of chatter and occasional barks from Chase as he played tug-of-war in the background creating a cheerful, lively atmosphere.

When you returned with a tray of snacks, Lando spotted you and called, “You know, I keep expecting another surprise—like you revealing a hidden talent or something.”

“Oh, please! Not all of us are as talented as you,” you laughed, rolling your eyes dramatically. “What would I even showcase?”

“Juggling? Singing? Interpretive dance?” he teased, showing his cheeky side as he approached, Chase still at his heels.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you said, leaning into him playfully.

As the night continued with games and heartfelt conversations, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of pure bliss. In the moment, with Chase happily rolling around at Lando’s feet while laughter floated through the room, the pressures of life faded into the background.

Here, surrounded by friends and love, everything felt perfect.

As you nestled up next to Lando later that evening, sharing your warm spot on the couch with Chase snuggled between you both, you realized that just like the candles on the cake, these moments were to be cherished—light against the darkness, warmth against the cold.

“Happy birthday, Lando,” you whispered, leaning closer.

“Happy birthday, indeed,” he replied, his smile contagious.

All could be perfect birthdays that lead to unforgettable memories, yet this one would stay forever etched in your heart—a night of laughter, love, and your little family: you, Lando, and Chase. . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

[thef1diary]

Language Of Leaves | F. Colapinto

Summary: Franco begrudgingly agrees to watch your plants, but caring for them leads him to realize he’s growing just as attached to you.

warnings: fluff, a few spanish sentences - w translation (correct me if it’s wrong!)

wc: 3k

masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

Franco had been wholly reluctant from the moment you asked him to take care of your plants. The request hadn’t even fully left your lips before he shook his head, immediately retreating a step, his hands raised as though warding off some ludicrous proposal.

“¿Estás loca?” (are you crazy?) he’d exclaimed, his brows furrowing in exaggerated disbelief. “You’re asking the wrong person here, I would kill your plants without even realizing. They don’t want me around, trust me.” He looked at the leafy green oasis you had so carefully tended to with a mix of apprehension and resignation, like the plants themselves were quietly mocking him from their pots.

But you knew Franco well, you knew that if you pressed just a little, his tough facade would soften. So, you laid it on thick, giving him that soft, pleading expression that he could never quite resist when it came to you. You looked at him with those big, hopeful eyes, layering in just a hint of sadness. “Franco, please. My plants will wither without someone to care for them. Leaving them alone for two whole weeks… it’d be like abandoning children.”

Your words seemed to strike a nerve. He hesitated, his gaze flicking back to the plants and then to you, a faint crack appearing in his armor. You could practically see the thought unfolding in his mind—imagining you returning home to drooping, lifeless plants, the beautiful greenery reduced to a shadow of what it had been. His resistance wavered.

And then you delivered the final blow: a tiny, almost-mournful pout. You knew it was his Achilles’ heel, the expression that always seemed to make him relent, no matter how absurd the request.

Franco sighed—a long, dramatic sigh, muttering under his breath as he glanced away, pretending as if he hadn’t already lost this battle. Finally, he held out his hand for the paper in yours, grumbling all the while, “fine. Solo por dos semanas.” (only for two weeks)

Franco took the paper with a resigned sigh, eyeing it skeptically as he skimmed the instructions. You had done your best to make it as straightforward as possible, keeping the notes to simple instructions for sunlight and water. Still, he seemed to regard even this minimal guidance as a daunting task, his brows furrowing with each line he read. You could practically see his mind racing, piecing together the responsibility you were trusting him with, and how high the stakes suddenly felt.

But since he had already agreed—thanks to that soft pout of yours he couldn’t resist—he knew it was too late to back out now. He folded the paper carefully and gave you a look, one last attempt to salvage his pride. “I’ll try my best, okay? But if you come back and a plant or two doesn’t make it, that’s not my fault.”

There was a slight smirk on his face, though, as if he was secretly determined to prove himself wrong, to come through for you.

You lean in and press a quick, warm kiss to his cheek, murmuring a soft, “thank you, Franco.” The gesture is small, but the effect is immediate. A flush rises to his cheeks, painting them a rosy pink that he tries to hide by looking away. He clears his throat, obviously flustered, and rubs the back of his neck as though the warmth spreading there might somehow disappear if he just ignores it.

He lets out a low cough, shifting his stance uncomfortably, and mutters, “Yeah, yeah… don’t mention it,” his voice gruff, but betrayed by the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Before you can say anything else, he gives a quick nod and ends the conversation right there, stuffing the paper in his pocket as though ready to make his escape before you see just how much your kiss affected him.

When you finally left for your trip, Franco lingered in the doorway of your apartment, taking in the quiet space that was now his responsibility. He moved to the middle of the room, staring down at the list you’d left him. The handwriting was familiar, your looping letters filling the space with gentle reminders and careful instructions, but it was the little doodles that captured his attention.

You’d sketched a happy monstera leaf next to its name, a tiny sun with a smiling face by the plants that needed more light, and even raindrops beside those that liked extra water. He found his fingers drifting over the paper, tracing each drawing, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Qué linda…” (how cute) he murmured before catching himself and pulling his hand back with a quick cough.

“They’re just plants, Franco,” he told himself under his breath, trying to brush off the warmth in his chest. Still, he couldn’t deny that the thought of you sitting down to make this list—carefully, as if you were entrusting him with a life-or-death mission—made him feel… something.

The first day was straightforward enough. He followed each instruction you’d left to the letter, checking off each plant on your list and measuring out water carefully. Some plants didn’t need watering every day, so he noted the days with reminders on his phone. He’d warned you he wasn’t the best plant sitter, after all, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally prove himself right.

As each day passed, he found himself coming over more often than necessary. Even on days when only one or two plants needed watering, Franco would still make the trip, convincing himself it was “just in case.” What if something went wrong overnight? What if he’d missed something? He checked each plant like they were little patients, leaning close to inspect the soil.

By the fourth day, he was getting into a rhythm. He began with the smaller plants, crouching down to check the moisture in their soil. If it felt too dry, he gave them a splash of water; if it seemed damp, he left them alone.

But then he reached your monstera, the plant you considered your prized possession. He stilled, a strange sensation of dread creeping over him as he noticed the edges of the leaves starting to turn yellow, a slight droop to the usually vibrant foliage. His heart dropped.

“¡Mierda!” (shit) he muttered, kneeling down to inspect the damage. “No, no, no…” Panic crept into his chest as he pictured you coming home to find a mess of dying plants. He knew how much these plants meant to you; you tended to them with such devotion, treating each one like it was a beloved pet.

“No me hagas esto, por favor. ¿Qué te hice?” (Don’t do this to me, please. What did I do to you?) His fingers brushed over one of the yellowed edges, his brow furrowing as he searched for any clue. “I swear, I followed everything she wrote down,” he muttered, almost like he was trying to reassure the plant—and himself. He took out the list and reread the instructions for the monstera, scanning the page as if a hidden solution would suddenly appear.

The room fell silent, save for his own low muttering as he kept inspecting the monstera, turning the pot gently and studying each leaf like a doctor checking a patient’s pulse. “Okay, maybe it needs a little less water? Or more light?” He tried everything he could think of, even nudging the pot slightly closer to the window. “Dios mío,” (my god) he breathed, wiping a hand over his face. “She’s going to kill me if it wilts.”

But then he paused, remembering something else.

Franco looked around at your cozy, plant-filled home, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. He remembered how you’re always doting on these plants, cradling each one gently as you water or trim leaves. He’d always found it amusing, the way you’d coo at it as if it were a pet, fingers lightly brushing over its leaves, calling it mi bebé, whispering reassurances in a soft voice, and he’s never missed the way your face lights up whenever one of them sprouts a new leaf or a flower bud.

Franco never understood it, thought it was just some odd habit. But now, facing the wilting monstera, he wondered if maybe it wasn’t as silly as he’d thought.

He cleared his throat, feeling utterly ridiculous. “Alright, monstruo,” he muttered, using a nickname he’d given the big, leafy plant.

“We’re gonna make this work, ¿sí? No más hojas amarillas, ¿entendido?” (Yes? No more yellow leaves, understood?) He felt silly, but if talking to them helped even a little, he was willing to try.

“She really loves you, ¿sabes? She’d hate to see you like this.” (you know) He reached out and gently touched one of the yellowing leaves, his hand lingering there, almost as if he were holding its hand.

He could picture you now, laughing at him for talking to a plant—to your plant—but he kept going anyway. “I’ll do better, okay? Whatever you need. More sun, less water, whatever it takes. Just… hang in there. Don’t make me break her heart.”

He sat back on his heels, staring at the monstera for a moment longer. He felt strangely connected to it, like he’d made a pact, a silent agreement between them.

In the days that followed, Franco grew more and more attached, unconsciously mimicking the little rituals he’d seen you do. He hummed softly under his breath as he watered, sometimes even pausing to glance at the list you’d left, your handwriting now familiar and endearing to him.

He no longer approached your plants like a checklist to get through. Instead, he slowed down, taking the time to touch each leaf and test the soil carefully with his fingers, just like he’d seen you do a hundred times.

When he came across your spider plant, a small and slightly finicky one that he’d once jokingly called “the diva” because of its stubborn leaves, he paused, lightly brushing his thumb over the thin, arching fronds. “You’re giving me more trouble than all the others combined, you know that?” he said, his voice softer than before, almost like he was confiding in it. “But I get it… you’re probably used to her touch, not mine.”

Each day, he began to greet them with a quiet “hola,” as if entering a room full of familiar faces. He knew the way you did it, how you’d walk in and give each plant a little greeting or a compliment. And now he found himself doing the same thing. “Looking good,” he’d mutter as he checked the moisture of your jade plant, nodding approvingly, even though it was just a plant in silence.

The last thing Franco expected was to miss you. But somewhere between fussing over your plants and memorizing every instruction you’d left behind, he started to notice the silence. Your laughter, your endless chatter about plant care, the way you’d smile as you talked about each one like it had a personality—all of it lingered in the empty spaces of your home, making it feel strangely hollow.

He never said it out loud, but as much as he protested, he enjoyed coming over, having coffee with you as you arranged your plants, rambling about which ones needed more light, which were delicate, and which were “just a little dramatic.” You’d look at him with that soft, knowing smile as he pretended not to care, and though he’d grumble about “too many plants,” he never left without sneaking one last look at your little green haven.

He wondered how you’d react if he managed to keep them all alive. A small part of him—a part he tried not to examine too closely—wanted to see your face light up when you saw the plants, thriving and green, as if he’d managed to preserve something precious to you.

Sitting there on your living room carpet, surrounded by all these green, leafy “babies” you’d entrusted to him, he realized he wasn’t just daydreaming about your reaction to the plants. He found himself wondering what it would be like to be here with you, to share these quiet mornings side by side, maybe with a cup of coffee and your gentle teasing. He imagined your hand on his arm, laughing at his sudden “attachment” to your beloved green haven, and he felt a pang of longing he couldn’t ignore.

Franco had always admired you, but these past two weeks had somehow made him feel closer to you, made him wonder what it would be like if he weren’t just a friend.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, he stopped seeing these plants as “yours” and started treating them like they were his responsibility too.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your two-week trip came to an end. It was well past midnight when you let yourself in, leaving your suitcase by the door as you spotted a lit lamp in the otherwise dark apartment. You padded softly down the hall, stifling a yawn, but stopped in your tracks at the sight that awaited you.

There, in the middle of your living room, was Franco, sound asleep on the floor. His back was against the sofa, his head lolling to one side, and in his hands were two of your plants—your small, temperamental spider plant and your “drama queen” fern. Even in his sleep, he cradled them carefully, as if afraid one wrong move might damage them.

You couldn’t help but smile, taking in the sight of him nestled between your plants, his face softened in sleep, looking far more at peace than you’d ever seen him. You stepped a little closer, crouching down and noticed the smudges of soil on his hands and the slight disarray of the room, as if he’d gone through a nightly ritual of checking on each plant before dozing off right there on the floor.

As you reached out, your fingers barely grazing a stray curl from his forehead, he stirred, eyes fluttering open, his gaze meeting yours. His sleepy, unfocused eyes sharpened as he realized you were there, inches away, and a hint of surprise flickered in them.

“Ah… estás aquí,” (you’re here) he muttered as he realized he was still holding onto your plants.

A faint blush colored his cheeks as he placed them gently beside him, his fingers lingering on the leaves as if reluctant to let go.

You both remained close, his sleepy eyes meeting yours, and suddenly the room felt charged, every inch between you alive with an unspoken electricity. He didn’t move away, and neither did you. The silence was warm, thick with all the things you hadn’t yet said, every shared glance and lingering touch from before echoing in this small, tender space between you.

“I didn’t expect to find you like this,” you whispered, the words coming out softer than you intended.

He laughed lightly, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he leaned back, eyes not leaving yours. “I didn’t expect to get so… attached,” he admitted, his voice dropping, a hint of something more in his tone.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you raised an eyebrow, teasing. “To the plants or…?”

His gaze flickered down to the fern beside him for a moment, and then back to you, as if he could no longer resist the pull drawing you closer. “They were good company,” he murmured, his voice softer now, like he was confessing something he’d been holding back, “but… I meant you.”

Your smile softened, and before you could second-guess yourself, you had leaned in, bridging the last inches between you until your head was nestled gently against his chest. He shifted to hold you, his arms wrapping around you naturally, as if they’d been waiting for this moment. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady but just a bit faster than usual, mirroring your own.

He tightened his hold around you, one hand settling at the small of your back while the other drifted upward, his fingers trailing gently along your spine. The touch was unhurried, almost reverent, as if he were savoring the simple act of holding you close.

You let yourself relax fully into his embrace, feeling the way his fingers seemed to map out a quiet symphony along your spine. There was a tenderness in his touch, a kind of reverence that made you feel like this moment was as meaningful to him as it was to you.

“Franco…” you whispered, the word barely leaving your lips as his gaze flicked to your lips, lingering in a way that made the room feel smaller, more intimate. His thumb brushed against your side, an almost absent-minded gesture, yet one that spoke volumes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you with the tips of his fingers.

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, and for a heartbeat, the world outside faded, leaving only the soft rise and fall of his breath mingling with yours. His eyes closed briefly, like he was savoring the closeness, and when they opened, his gaze was deeper, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his tone laced with a sincerity that sent a thrill through you, making you forget everything but the warmth of his presence.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “I missed you too,” you whispered, your thumb gently grazing his cheek.

Franco’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. The moment hung between you, suspended in time, gentle and full of unspoken promises.

When he pulled back just enough to look at you, his smile was warm, content. There was no rush, no need for words anymore. Just the quiet understanding between you, as if the silence said everything that needed to be said.

And in that silence, you both stayed, savoring the peace of finally being close in a way you hadn’t been before.

taglist: @blakebearsblog @arieslost @lilorose25 @jamieeboulos @cinderellawithashoe @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel

[koolades-world]

have three really great ideas but this one was brainrotting me more so you get this one first. may or may not be inspired by myself and the amount of birthmarks i have personally (i do actually have all the birthmarks listed!) if you guys want a part two for solomon's birthmarks and mc doting on him, let me know. i could make that happen!

i can't explain it but i kept thinking of that one solomon and his wives post written by my beloved mutal alba while writing this. not sure why, but i'm giving credit where it is due. please go check her out!!!

this can read a little suggestive so read with caution! however, i think it's very very cute!! <3

birthmarks

"Hey, Mc." Solomon looked up from the book he was reading. You were seated not too far from him, sitting cross-legged on the ground surrounded by papers you were organizing.

"What's up?" You didn't look up from what you were doing.

"Have you ever heard of any old wives tales behind birthmarks?" He asked.

"Well, that was out of the blue." When you paused, he continued to look at you expectantly. "Yes, I've heard a couple. The first one I thought of were they were how you died in a past life." You let out a snort of laughter at the expression that crossed the sorcerer's face.

"That's not the one I was thinking of." He shook his head.

"Then, you must've been thinking of the one where they're where you've been kissed in a past life. If the death one was the case, I would've had some brutal deaths." You recalled the simple, yet romantic myth where every birthmark was a kiss left by a lover of your past. You much preferred that outlook, even if it wasn't real.

"That's the one. Now, I'm curious..." He trialed off, giving you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

"You could've just asked in a normal way. You're my partner. Asmo must be rubbing off on you." You got up, and joined him on the sofa.

"No, Asmo would've just asked you to get naked." The two of you giggled together at the idea. In his defense, he was right.

"Do you have any birthmarks?" You wondered how he'd thought to ask something like that in the first place.

"Maybe you'll get to see later, if you're lucky." Solomon winked at you.

"Solomon!" You smacked his arm, to which he pulled you into a hug back.

"Maybe you can help me find each and every one..." He voiced died as the words left his mouth. He ran a thumb over the birthmark on your cheek, his touch gentle. You could tell he'd already moved on from that idea despite how enthralled he'd seemed with it a second ago. "This a cute spot to have one."

You had many birthmarks, but the one on your cheek was the one most easily visible. "Thanks. I must've gotten lots of cheek kisses." You remarked. "Is this the one that got you thinking?" You put a hand over his, which was still on your face.

"You read my mind." You studied his face of oddly deep concentration. While he was looking at you, he didn't even realize he wasn't meeting your gaze. Instead, he seemed to be memorizing your features.

"Compared to the others, this one is small." This comment seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

"Where are the rest?" His hand stayed on your cheek, but seemed ready to move to the next area at any point.

"I've got a fair amount on my arms and hands. There's one on the base knuckle of my right index finger, and another just underneath the first knuckle of my left ring finger." He took both of your hands in his, moving to study them next.

"You were well loved." He threaded your fingers together. "They were sweet to you, and married you." You began to grow shy once you realized the implications of the birthmark on your ring finger, and a little upset with yourself for not realizing that sooner.

"I'd never thought of that." You cleared your throat, and pushed past the mild embarrassment. "I also have one on my left forearm, and one on both of the backs of my shoulders." He let go of your right hand to run his fingers up your arm and to your back, but held steadfast onto your left hand. He remained silent, his lips a thin line.

"I have one over my heart, and one in the center of my chest." You pressed a finger over the center of your chest where you knew the mark was. Solomon's frigid hands settled over your heart. You hoped he couldn't feel how it was racing under his touch.

"Is that all of them?" He finally met your eyes. They were filled with a tenderness you could only place as fondness.

"No, I have a couple more." You took his free hand, and guided it down to where the remaining two were. You knew he'd do it anyways. "I've got one here." You placed his hand on your hip. After steeling your nerves, you guided his hand lower down to your inner thigh. "And one here."

"You were well loved." He repeated. You'd expected some sort of snide comment about the placement of the last one, but that didn't even seem to be on his mind. You stared at him, trying to figure out what thoughts were running through his head. You left his hand on your leg, and stroked his face like he'd done for you moments ago.

"Solomon, are you jealous?" The corners of his lips twitched at your comment.

"What if I am?" He sighed. He held your left hand close to his body, and cuddled you close to him.

"Did you ever consider that maybe it was you?" You whispered.

"Me?" Solomon sounded surprised.

"I think it was you. If you don't believe that the way I do, you can replace them. That way, I have double the kisses from you, and you know for sure your lips were the last to touch me." You could tell your words were getting through to him by the way his zeroed in on yours.

Instead of responding, he lifted your left hand to his lips, and kissed your left ring finger, and ghost of a smile on his face. "Then, I have work to do, don't I?"

[aspoonofsugar]

"I'm done blaming myself for your mistakes"

This line by Vi pretty much sums up her conflict in Act 1 of season 2, but I have yet to see it discussed. The point is, in fact, that Vi does blame herself, which is why she is unable to properly call Cait out. If Jinx specifically were not the one responsible for Cassandra's death, I doubt Vi would have stayed silent in front of Cait calling Zaunites animals or that she would have accepted many of Cait's actions without saying a word.

Vi still feels at fault for Powder becoming Jinx, which makes her vulnerable and willing to compromise on her morals, so that Caitlyn would not leave her. Ironically, I think this behavior is among the reasons why their love story does not work out in the first Act. They fail to communicate properly.

On the one hand Cait treats Vi badly. She insults Vi's people and insists that Vi should become an enforcer, despite her knowing of Vi's painful past. Obviously this is wrong, but personally I think it stems from Caitlyn's poor attempt to reconcile her love for Vi with her hate for Jinx:

"Three faces keep spinning through my mind. I see mother when they found her. And every fiber of me just sinks like in dark water. But then there is Jinx. Laughing. I want to tear that laugh from her throat forever. Then I see Vi. I asked her to put on the uniform. Suffice to say, she declined."

Cait's solution is to have be become a part of her society, so that she can keep on hating Jinx and the "bad" Zaunites, while loving Vi and the "good" Zaunites. Except it obviously does not work.

On the other hand Vi is unable to call Cait out. And the whole point is that Cait needed someone to call her out. She is grieving, but she is obviously becoming like the enforcers she once despised. Like the enforcers Vi despised. She negates Cassandra's legacy, by using her ventilation system to poison the air. She acts cruelly against a man, who is unharmed and who has clearly been hurt by that same gas she weaponized. She is ready to shoot a child (even if she does not intend to kill her), so that she can get at Jinx. Vi clearly sees all of this, which is why she asks Cait not to change:

Vi: Everyone in my life has changed. Promise me you won't change.

However, she fails to confront Cait about it all. Except that when you are in a relationship, you must feel secure and free to call the other person out. Even to get into a fight with the other person. Still, Vi is so terrified of losing Cait too, that she is indecisive. And in the end she is tragically left behind by Cait.

This happens because Vi herself has not yet decided who she wants to be. Is she a Zaunite or an Enforcer? Does she want to kill Jinx or not? Vi can't choose. Jinx even calls her out on this:

Jinx: Plastering my face all over, so someone else would do your dirty work?

She tells Cait she wants Jinx dead, but the moment she can kill Jinx she doesn't. Sure, Isha comes between them, but after Cait disarms Isha, Vi could pretty easily take Isha away from Jinx and let Cait kill her sister. However, she does not. That is clearly because she sees Powder in Isha. Jinx and Isha embraced are clearly representative of who Jinx is as a whole. She is an unstable terrorist, but she is also a hurt child. That is who Jinx is and that is what Vi (and Jinx herself) needs to see and to reconcile. Even now, Vi insists that Powder is dead and that only Jinx remains. However, Jinx is Powder no matter how much Silco, Jinx herself and Vi insist she isn't. She still clearly is.

It is just that Powder has changed, but this is normal. Just like it is normal Vi herself has changed and will need to change again, so that she can decide who she really wants to be. Just like Jinx and just like Cait will have to do.

As a side note, I am loving the foiling between Cait and Jinx. They have always been foils, but while last season focused on how this juxtaposition impacts Jinx, right now we are seeing how it impacts Cait.

In season 1, Jinx sees Cait as Vi replacing her. In a sense, Jinx's jealousy of Vi stems from that same inability to accept change. Jinx too deep down hopes she can go back to being the innocent Powder and that Vi can love her, like she did in the past. However, that is not possible because people change and forge new relationships. Jinx forges a bond with Silco she can't simply erase because Vi wants to. Just like she can't erase the one with Vi simply because Silco wants to. Similarly, Vi has a new bond with Cait that she can't break simply because Jinx asks her to. So, Caitlyn is really who Jinx wants to be. Someone complementary to Vi in battle, but also reliable, dependent, lovable. By the end of season 1, Jin realizes she can't really be that person anymore and interiorizes there is a part of her Vi can't understand. That same part Silco instead accepts.

Silco: Don't cry. You are perfect.

In season 2, Jinx becomes Cait's dark side. She is really Cait's Joker, as she is the one who challenges Cait's sense of justice and morals:

Cait: It's her blood in your veins. Vi: Then why are you the one acting like her?

Cait is letting grief and pain change her for the worse, just like Powder was transformed by her own losses and traumas. Cait keeps insisting she is different from Jinx, but she isn't. In fact, her whole fiasco kinds of hint at it symbolically. Cait poisons the underground city in her attempt to catch Jinx. Only for Jinx rewinding the ventilation system, so that the poison Cait used is sent back to Piltover. Jinx literally acts like Cait's mirror, which is why Cait's shot ends up hitting exactly this, a mirror. As in, Cait can't really kill Jinx without hurting both herself, Vi and the whole city :P

I am curious to see how their foiling will develop, now that both girls are growing into the leaders of their opposite factions.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Bodyguard (NSFW)

"Honey, honey, I could be your bodyguard."

Synopsis: You and Joe elope after being engaged for only 24 hours. The goal was to tell everyone when the two of you were ready, but it doesn't exactly work out the way that the two of you intended.

Pairing: Fiancé!Joe Burrow x Fiancée!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Do Not Engage If UNDERAGE

Your head was laying on Joe's chest as his arms were wrapped around you in a tight embrace. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep after the two of you had gotten back home from dinner where Joe had proposed to you in front of your closest family and friends.

He had been planning this for a while and wanted to keep it simple, just how he knew that you would like it. You weren't one for dealing with the spotlight and didn't like a lot of attention on you, the same way he was.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly unlocked it with his passcode that happened to be your birthday and saw that the time was around two in the morning. Putting his phone back down, he saw you pop one eye open to look at him and he quickly leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Being a creep now are we?” He asked you as you laughed at him and sat up letting the comforter and sheet fall away from your naked body due to the activities that took place before you had drifted off.

“What? I can't look at my handsome fiancé whom I love so much?” You asked as you pinched his cheek.

“Of course you can and I am never going to get tired of hearing you say that.” Joe responded while playing with the engagement ring that he had slid on your finger just hours before.

It took him almost an entire six months to get the design of the ring up to his standards and made sure that it was a design that you would approve of too. It was funny when he thought about it because in order to get your opinion, he would show you different designs and ask what you thought. However, you really truly didn't think anything of it because Ja'Marr had also been planning to propose to his long time girlfriend and you assumed it was Joe asking you for him.

You looked at him as he did it and knew for a fact that the wheels in his head were turning.

“Joey, what's the matter?”

Once he heard your voice, he looked up at you and continued to play with your ring before he answered you.

“Would it be crazy for me to say that I want us to be married already?”

“No, not at all. I can't wait for the day that my last name changes officially. We have to start planning. Big wedding or small wedding?”

“What if you didn't have to wait? What if we made it a reality and you became my wife in the next twenty four hours?”

Straddling him, your eyes suddenly went wide as your arms wrapped his neck and stared at him, not really knowing what to say.

“Um, Joey….”

“We can hop on a plane in the next few hours and make it happen. Make it a little getaway that leads into our honeymoon.”

“So, you want to elope?” You asked again, making sure you were hearing him right.

“For my short answer, yes. I don't want to wait any longer. I've been holding onto your ring for a while and it literally took me six months to design it because I know how picky your ass is.”

“Our parents are going to be mad as hell about that. And you love me all the same, including my pickiness.”

You could just hear your parents now throwing a fit about you and Joe not saying anything to them.

And your siblings

And your friends

But deep down when you thought about it, why should you even care? You were getting married to the person in front of you and as far as you were concerned, his opinion was the only one that mattered.

“And? They'll get over it and we can always do something here once we get back. I want you all to myself and one way or another, I always get what I want. And I do love your pickiness even if it gets on my nerves sometimes.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you.

“And we don't have to tell anyone either until we want to.” He added before kissing you again.

“But what about Destinee? She was going to be my maid of honor.”

Joe couldn't help but to roll his eyes.

“Especially not her! Baby, I am in no way, shape, or form telling you what to do but I literally HATE her and she's not a good friend to you.”

“Joey! Hate is a strong word!”

“I know and I'll repeat myself. I HATE her. Since we're talking about her, you know she tried to come onto me tonight? AFTER I PROPOSED with her witnessing the entire thing! Only reason why I invited her is because you like her. Because left up to me, her ass can choke. Your parents don't like her either!”

You crossed your arms and looked at him dumbfounded.

“She wouldn't do that, babe.”

“Oh, but she did. Ja'Marr wasn't paying her any attention but I don't know why she got the bright ass idea of coming over to talk to me. Why does your best friend think she can pull a move on me with her funky ass breath? Besides I am CLEARLY spoken for.”

“JOSEPH!”

“I had to interrupt her to give her a piece of gum because her breath was hot enough to burn off my eyebrows. I'm surprised I still have any to be honest.”

Failing miserably, a laugh escaped your mouth as you shook your head at him.

“I'll ask her about it and you probably interpreted that wrong.”

“Make sure you have a piece of gum on standby, can't have my future wife dying and leaving me. Cause of death, stinky breath by her so-called best friend. You probably won't even need for me to bury you because her breath by itself will probably cremate you.”

“I literally CANNOT with you.” You told him as you shook your head and began laughing all over again.

“Yes you can and you better get used to it since you said yes to marrying me. No take backs.”

“Wouldn't dare think of doing that in a million years. Now where are we going to do this? Vegas?” You asked but turned up your nose at the same time.

“No. Definitely not. That's where everyone goes. I want us to be different. We can always go somewhere that we can also have our honeymoon.”

“I like that idea. I want beaches and sand. Somewhere warm.”

“Hmm…. So I can fuck you on the beach? Good idea.” He whispered in your ear as he placed a kiss directly underneath it.

“Yes, but I was literally not even thinking that.”

“Shit, I was and I have no problem admitting it.” Joe told you as he shrugged.

“I noticed with your little nasty ass.” You teased and he sent a small smirk in your direction.

“You weren't complaining about it a few hours ago when you were riding my face.”

“I… touché and I got it! Barbados! That's where we can go.” You excitedly told him and it looked as if he was thinking it over, but quickly agreed with you.

“Okay, Barbados it is. I'll get everything together and you go to sleep.” Joe told you as he kissed both of your cheeks and your nose before placing one on your lips.

“But..”

“I got it handled, my future wife needs to go to sleep. I'll wake you up when we need to get ready to head to the airport.” Joe told you as you nodded and laid back down on his chest.

He quickly wrapped his arm around you before using his other hand on his phone to look for a hotel for the two of you to stay at while also planning to make a few calls to get the two of you on a private jet. He finally decided to rent a vacation house so the two of you would have more space.

He was more than halfway done when you did a sudden movement and his eyes immediately looked down at you to make sure that you were okay and you were once again looking at him.

“Baby girl, I thought I told you to go to sleep?”

“Yes, you did but for some reason I keep waking up.” You whined as you shifted to make yourself more comfortable.

“Hmm, you need me to help you out with that?” Joe asked as he set his phone down in order to give you his full attention.

Looking back up at him with a smirk, you quickly nodded knowing what his version of helping you meant.

“But you need to use your words to tell me exactly what you want.” He told you as he flipped the two of you over and you were now underneath him.

“But you already know what I want.” You breathed out as he began to nip at your neck and moved further down.

“Say it or I'm not going to do anything and make you get to sleep on your own. Now I'm going to ask you one more time. What does my fiancée want me to do to her?”

“She wants you to put her to sleep.”

“By doing what?”

You didn't give him an answer before you felt him move down further and spread your legs apart while running his fingers across your folds, teasing you.

“By doing something like this? Or hold on, maybe you meant this?” He asked and you quickly felt his tongue make contact with your core as you let out a gasp.

“Yesss.”

“Hmm, yes what?” He asked you once more as you felt his tongue once more on you.

“My fiancé is teasing me and I don’t like that at all.”

“Then my fiancée needs to use her words and tell me what she wants.”

“I want your face between my thighs.”

“Good girl, now see, was that so hard for us to do?” Joe was trying to get an answer out of you as he made himself comfortable in between your thighs just like you asked him and began to play with your folds quickly slipping two fingers inside you making your breath hitch in your throat.

Joe didn't bother waiting for an answer and immediately began to pleasure you with his tongue paying special attention to your clit as he increased the pace of his fingers.

“Shiiiit, keep going.” Was all you could let out as the grip that Joe had on your legs became tighter making sure that there was no possible way for you to move away from him and at this rate, that was the last thing that you wanted.

One of your hands quickly found its way to Joe's hair as you were ultimately trying to pull him even closer even if by now it was damn near impossible.

You riding his face earlier wasn't nearly enough for you to be satisfied and the way your body was responding quickly let him know. As soon as the two of you had gotten into the car from leaving dinner earlier, you had been teasing each other during the entire ride home and barely made it inside before clothes were being ripped off from each others bodies.

Inserting a third finger, Joe began to suck on your clit harder making your upper body squirm because your lower body was being tightly held by him.

“Baby, oh fuck. I'm close, so so close.”

Hearing this, Joe decided to stop which quickly left you confused and he immediately heard your protest since you wasted no time in telling him.

“Joey, what the hell!? I said I was close, why did you stop!?”

“So I could do this.” He told you as he climbed back up your body to kiss you while also sliding into you at the same time with a gasp erupting from you.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck as he moved in and out of you at an even pace with him kissing you every few strokes.

Closing your eyes, the grip that you had around his neck quickly became tighter and you soon heard his voice.

“Keep your eyes on me and don’t make me ask again. You understand?”

Your eyes opened and listened to directions, but the head nod that you gave him in response was not sufficient enough. He immediately broke his embrace from you and you felt one of his hands wrap around your neck which instantly made you open your eyes and look at him as he lightly squeezed giving just the right amount of pressure.

“Didn’t we just have a conversation about you using your words when I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to do what you’re told and stop disobeying me. Because I will stop altogether and make you use your vibrator.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Go ahead and try me, baby. It’s your choice. Now your eyes better not leave mine. Matter of fact, get up here and ride me.”

Joe didn’t wait for an answer from you as he flipped the two of you back over and you were in the original position that you had been earlier in the night.

Putting his hands behind his head and staring up at you, he smirked.

“You don’t need my help since you like disobeying me, go ahead.” He answered your question already knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Nine times out of ten, Joe would have a tight hold on your hips and help guide you as you rode him, but you knew that you being rebellious against him made him decide to make you do it on your own.

“But babeeee.”

“Less talking, more riding.”

Placing one of your hands on the mattress beneath the both of you and lining him up with your entrance, you slowly eased your way down making a quiet moan escape from Joe’s mouth.

Once you found the perfect pace for the two of you, you could feel yourself growing tired and switched from your right hand being on the mattress to your left thinking that it would help.

Joe could tell that you were growing tired with how your movements were slowing down and took pity on you as you felt him grip both of your hips.

“You need some help, baby?”

Nodding your head, Joe motioned for you to lay down on top of him and as your head was resting on his shoulder, slow deep strokes were given from underneath you as you were moaning right next to his ear.

“That’s my good girl, you’re doing such a good job, baby.”

That familiar feeling that you knew all too well was building and knew sooner rather than later you would hit your peak. Joe obviously was close too, because his movements had now grown sloppy.

“Babe.” You softly breathed out and you could feel him nod his head as yours was still on his shoulder.

“I know, I know. You’re almost there aren’t you? You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me, baby? Cum all over daddy’s dick?”

No words left your mouth as you felt a gush of liquid leave your body and cover him underneath you and not even ten seconds later felt him release inside you.

You laid in the same position for a few minutes as Joe placed soft kisses up and down your neck and shoulder as you were trying to catch your breath.

Once you felt that you could move, you once again turned your head to peek one eye open at Joe and he smiled at you before leaning over to place several kisses on your lips.

“I know you want to lay on me and stay like this, but I need to change the sheets so we can finally go to sleep. Go ahead and take a shower while I do this and then I’ll come join you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise and then in a few hours we’ll wake up and get married in Barbados.”

The two of you had just touched down in Barbados an hour ago and you were currently exploring the beach house that Joe had rented for the both of you. Seeing as he told you not to worry about anything and that he had it handled, when you finished exploring you were simply going to decide on what you were going to wear since the goal was for the two of you to get married by the end of the day.

While in the master bedroom and looking out the window, you didn’t hear Joe come in the room and he was simply admiring you from the doorway before walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You like it?”

“Yes, I absolutely love it. I asked for somewhere warm near beaches and my future husband definitely took that into consideration. This beach house is amazing.”

“Oh, so your picky self approves?” He asked and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Yes, I approve.”

“Good, so start getting ready so we can leave and go get married.”

“I still have to figure out what I want to wear, none of the dresses that I have are really ‘get married in’ worthy.”

“Hmm, you could always go in nothing, I’m not opposed. That would be better for me actually.”

“JOSEPH!” You exclaimed as you turned around to look at him.

“Hey, I just gave you another option.” He replied as he held his hands up defensively.

“But, seriously, baby. I do not care what you wear and I know that you’re going to look beautiful regardless.”

“Aww, you love me don’t you?” You asked and Joe immediately nodded his head and leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you so much because if I didn’t, I would not let you put your cold ass feet on my back when we’re in bed because you’re cold and refuse to wear socks.”

“I cannot wear socks when I sleep! It’s weird!”

“What?! How is it weird?! So you’d rather turn me into a popsicle?”

“Yes, and I will not be discussing this topic further. Happy wife, happy life, Joseph Lee. I know you’ve heard that saying before so prepare yourself.”

After taking a shower and putting on your coconut scented lotion, you slipped into your soft pink sundress and began to play with your hair as you tried to figure out what you were going to do with it, style wise.

It was already in boho knotless braids and since it was obviously warm outside, you opted to put it into a high ponytail. Once it was up how you wanted, you applied light make-up and slipped in your big hoop earrings.

Sliding on your sandals, you heard Joe’s voice behind you after a whistle had escaped his lips.

“Look at how beautiful my fiancée is, just like I expected for her to be. I see you decided to not go along with my idea of what you should wear or not wear.”

“And get arrested for public nudity in a foreign country? I think not.”

“They have nude beaches, I looked into them.”

All you did was roll your eyes at him as you found your tennis bracelet that Joe had gifted you a year prior and attempted to put it on your wrist. Joe noticed that you were having some trouble and quickly put it on for you.

“Thank you.” You told him as you pinched his cheek.

“You’re welcome, babe. Now let’s go and get married.”

Laughter could probably be heard at least three miles away as the two of you were enjoying each other's company while relaxing in the hot tub that was located on the side of the vacation house rental.

You tried to control it so wine wouldn't spill everywhere as you held the glass with your left hand that now had your full wedding set glistening as the sun had just fully set.

“Joey, cut it out! You are going to make me spill this!”

“Hmm, wouldn't be the first time tonight either.” He told you as he swiped it from you and drank it in one gulp as you looked at him in disbelief.

“BABY! You owe me another glass. Your drink is over there!” You whined as you playfully hit his chest.

“Do you want some?”

“No, I wanted mine!”

“I'll go and get it under one condition.”

“The only condition that is necessary is that you'll get it because I'm your wife.”

“Oh, so you're already taking advantage of your name now being Mrs. Burrow, huh?”

“Yes, so go get it for me.” You told him as you pointed to your wine glass that he was indeed still holding.

“And to think you said the bottle looked like it would be considered girly wine.”

“It's good! I wasn't expecting it to be that good. But I'll get you another glass on one condition that I have.”

“And what's that?”

Joe didn't respond, but instead leaned forward to kiss you.

“Okay, now I can go.”

He slid you to the side of him since you had been sitting on his lap to get your refill for you. Joe had made his way back into the house when your phone began ringing and you saw that it was your best friend Destinee and quickly answered.

“Destinee!” You exclaimed since you still couldn’t contain how excited you were.

“Hey, where are you?” She asked not bothering to return your enthusiasm.

“With Joe. Why do you ask?”

“Did you forget that we were supposed to go out today?” She asked and even though you couldn’t see her, you had a feeling that she had definitely rolled her eyes at your response.

“Shit. It completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well we can go out later. How long are you going to be with him?”

“Destinee, can you keep a secret? Like you cannot tell anyone what I'm about to tell you.” You whispered into the phone trying to make sure Joe couldn’t hear you.

“Of course I can. What is it? And why are you whispering?”

“I'm in Barbados.”

“Uh okay?”

“And we just got married.”

“YOU ELOPED!?” She exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Not so loud! But yes and you have to promise not to tell anyone. I figured that my best friend should at least be one of the people who know about it before anyone else. You’ve been there for the long run and have always supported me through everything.”

“Who else knows? You said, one of the people.”

“No one else does and we'll tell everyone once we're ready. But I hear Joe coming back, talk to you later and I'll send you pics.”

Quickly hanging up the phone, you set it to the side of you as Joe was all smiles as he emerged from the house and handed you another glass of wine.

“Your drink Mrs. Burrow.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Burrow.” You replied as you took a small sip and Joe was climbing back into the hot tub and once again slid you into his lap.

His arms completely engulfed you as you slightly turned to lay your head on his shoulder.

“I have a lot of things planned for us to do tomorrow, but the majority of those plans don't require clothes.”

“And why am I not surprised?” You laughed as you shook your head and took another sip.

“I have to take advantage of being able to spend time with you because you know how busy I'll get during the season.”

“It's your job and I will not be getting in the way of that. I've supported you this long and it's not going away any time soon. I'm here for the long haul obviously.” You told him as you gestured towards your ring.

“I just never want to get so focused on my career that I lose you in the process because when it is all said and done and I’m not playing anymore, I still want you to be at home waiting for me.”

“Babe, if I haven't left yet, what makes you think that I will? I know how important it is to you and you have always treated me like a priority ever since we got together. And I'll still be here when you retire from playing. You manage to have football and me as a priority and neither one is slacking, I promise.”

“And if you ever feel like I'm not doing that, you need to tell me. You are one of the most important people in my life and it's going to stay that way.”

“I promise that I will even though I know that I won’t have to.” You replied before a yawn quickly escaped your mouth.

“Someone tired over there?”

“A little, it’s been a long day after all. I barely got any sleep since SOMEONE was too busy keeping me awake.” You responded while giving Joe the evil eye.

“And as I recall, my now wife specifically asked me to put her to sleep so I don’t want to hear it. But come on, you can finish your wine after we get comfortable in bed.”

“And no funny business! I actually want to sleep.”

“I promise and besides, I want you to sleep too in order to be ready for me for tomorrow.” Joe told you as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I swear you get on my nerves.”

“Hmm, you weren’t saying that when I was eating you out last night and you need to get over it, till death do us part remember?”

“Don’t push me, Joseph.” You scolded as you finally stood up to climb out of the hot tub with Joe right behind you.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

When you had finished showering and moisturizing your hair, Joe had briefly left the bedroom to do only God knows what so you took it as an opportunity to text Destinee one of the pictures that you had taken of the both of you earlier in the day. Once it was sent, you put your phone on do not disturb and plugged it in to charge on the nightstand as you slipped under the comforter.

Joe came back a few minutes later and crawled in bed beside you as you instantly moved to lay on him.

“I’m happy we did this.” He whispered as he held your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“Me too.”

The next morning, the constant vibration of Joe’s phone instantly brought him out of his slumber and he sighed in annoyance. Glancing down and seeing that you were still sleeping with your braids failing out of your bonnet, Joe smiled to himself as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

He figured that he should answer his phone since it was probably important and was surprised to see a bombardment of texts and calls from different people as he did his best not to wake you up. Instantly confused, he opened the most recent notification and it was from his mom Robin with a photo attached.

Mom- Since when were you two going to tell us that you eloped?

“Shit.” Was all Joe could mutter to himself as his stomach dropped. He did his best to not make any sudden movements, but quickly failed and that instantly woke you up.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked Joe as you sat up and rested your back against the headboard and he quickly handed you his phone without saying a word.

Your eyes instantly went wide as you read the text over and over again and looked at the picture that Robin had sent.

“Shit. How did they find out?” You asked as you turned towards Joe who now had his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Hmm, I should be asking you that, Y/N. You took this picture and only had it on your phone, so why is it now all over social media?”

[kiwriteswords]

Hii I love your writing!! I just wanted to ask if you could write a little Hotch x BAU!reader oneshot where the reader is on her period and Hotch takes care of her!! I need that right now

A Quiet Kind of Care

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: I could have used an Aaron Hotchner last week when this was me! Thanks so much for sending this one in, Anon. It was a fun one to write on my day off today!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: >1k

Tags/Warnings: Secret Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tender Moments, Reader who gets a period, Soft!Hotch

Sypnosis: After a long, grueling day on a case, you push through your discomfort to keep up with the team, all while secretly dating Aaron Hotchner. When you finally retreat to the privacy of your hotel room, Hotch’s quiet attentiveness and subtle gestures of care remind you just how much he understands your needs, offering a moment of solace and connection away from prying eyes.

Aaron's keen observation skills were not just a professional asset but a personal one, too. His years of marriage to Haley had honed his awareness of the women in his life, including you. He could discern the subtle signs of discomfort and weariness that often remained unspoken, understanding that even the strongest women needed a little extra care at times.

He’d caught on gradually—the way you’d press a hand to your lower back or shift uncomfortably in your chair during long briefings, the slight furrow in your brow that signaled more than just stress. There were times he noticed you reach instinctively toward your abdomen, only to lower your hand quickly, as if not wanting anyone to see. He saw these little signs, things the rest of the team might overlook but which he couldn’t ignore.

As he watched you navigate the case with more determination than usual, Aaron didn’t need to ask what was wrong. Instead, he offered a steadfast presence, quietly supporting you in small ways throughout the day—taking on more physical tasks, and giving you brief respites, all while keeping a watchful eye on you.

When the day finally wrapped, he made his way to your room, ready to be there for you in the way he knew you’d never ask but that he was more than willing to offer. One of the things he loved most about you was your strength and resilience. And yet, as much as he admired it, he wanted you to know that you didn’t always have to be strong with him.

The hotel hallway was quiet; the sounds of the bustling day long faded into stillness. It had been a grueling day on the case, with too many close calls and endless hours spent in the field. You were exhausted, your entire body aching, and the discomfort of your period only worsened your fatigue. Despite the pain, you’d managed to keep it all under wraps, not wanting the team to notice or, worse, worry. But Aaron—Aaron always knew.

As you leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Aaron, a wave of relief washed over you at the thought of being alone with him. The quiet knock on the door signaled his arrival, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of calm and anticipation.

A quiet knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it to find Aaron standing there, his gaze gentle, softened with concern.

“Come in,” you whispered, letting him in quickly and quietly.

Once inside, he closed the door softly, turning back to you with a small, knowing smile that held all the warmth and reassurance you needed. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle, steady embrace. His hand settled at the middle of your back, his fingers spreading wide, grounding you as he held you close.

Slowly, he began to run his hand up and down your spine, a soothing rhythm that seemed to melt away the tension you’d been carrying all day. His other arm tightened around your shoulders, drawing you even closer as if shielding you from the day’s lingering stress. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to his heart's steady, calming beat, letting it lull you into a place of warmth and safety. His chin came to rest lightly atop your head, and he exhaled as if he, too, had needed this moment just as much.

You felt the day's weight slip away in his arms, replaced by a quiet sense of peace that only Aaron could give. For a moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the door forgotten.

“You’ve been pushing yourself all day,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with concern. “You could’ve let me help sooner, you know.”

​​You sighed, leaning into his shoulder with a small smile. “It’s just part of the job. Nothing I can’t handle.”

He looked at you, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You don’t have to hide with me. Here—sit down.”

Aaron guided you over to the bed, settling you comfortably. He’d brought a small bag with him, and you watched as he pulled out a few items: a water bottle, some painkillers, and a small heating pad. You raised an eyebrow in surprise, touched by the thoughtfulness.

“When did you even get those?” you asked softly, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the heating pad.

He chuckled, settling beside you, reaching to plug the heating pad into the outlet beside the bed.

“I have my ways.” He placed the heating pad gently against your stomach, and the warmth was an immediate relief, easing the cramps that had been gnawing at you all day. “You don’t think I’d let you suffer alone, do you?”

You leaned more fully against his shoulder, feeling the tension start to slip away as he wrapped an arm around you. His hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips tracing gentle, soothing lines across your stomach, each movement easing the ache a little more. He stayed quiet, his steady breathing a calming rhythm, grounding you as you let yourself relax into him.

“You know,” he whispered after a while, “it wouldn’t hurt to tell me these things sooner. You don’t have to act tough with me.”

You looked up at him, catching the glint of tenderness in his eyes. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

He gently kissed your forehead, his lips warm and soft. “You could never be a bother.”

You stayed wrapped in his arms, the silence between you filled with the quiet understanding that was so uniquely yours. Moments like this, hidden from the rest of the world, were precious—just you and Aaron, no titles, no cases, just two people caring for each other in the simplest, truest way.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

[aventurineswife]

Two Hands, One Home

Summary: After an abyss attack destroys your home, Kinich, who values independence and self-reliance, offers you a place to stay. Though he presents it as purely practical, his actions reveal a quiet, genuine care. Over time, you settle into a peaceful routine together, finding comfort in his reserved kindness and the small gestures of care he provides, learning that beneath his cold exterior, Kinich has his own way of showing affection.

Tags: @m1nella, Kinich x Reader, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Reserved Kinich, Found Family, Quiet Moments, Pragmatic Romance, Subtle Affection, Soft Kinich.

Warnings: Implied Loss Due To An Abyss Attack, Mild Angst.

The aftermath of the abyss attack was devastating. Your home, once a place of safety and comfort, had been reduced to rubble, its walls shattered and roof torn asunder. The shock of losing everything you had worked for in an instant left you feeling hollow, adrift in a world that had suddenly turned cold and uncertain.

But amid the chaos, there was an unexpected offer. Kinich, with his usual stoic expression, had come to you with a quiet proposal. “You can stay at my place while your house is being repaired.” he said, his tone as dry as ever, yet beneath it was something softer, something genuine.

You were hesitant at first—Kinich was a private person, and you knew his past hadn’t been easy. Still, the practicality of the offer, and the simple fact that you needed somewhere safe to stay, won out. You nodded, grateful but unsure of what to expect.

The day you moved into Kinich’s house, you couldn’t help but be surprised by how… normal it was. The inside was modest, a far cry from the grandeur of the mansions you’d seen in the past. But it had a warmth to it, an unspoken coziness. The walls were lined with handmade furniture, small knick-knacks that spoke of a life lived with care and attention, even if it wasn’t a life of luxury.

Kinich showed you around, his gestures efficient but not unkind. “This is the kitchen,” he said, pointing to a simple stove and a small table. “If you need anything, just ask. And, uh… don’t go near the shed out back. I keep some of my… tools there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tools?”

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though it was hard to say. “I’ve got a lot of things to fix. You’ll see.”

You followed him to the living room, where a modest fireplace crackled. The scent of wood and something faintly herbal hung in the air, and Kinich, ever the practical one, was already setting up a small cot by the wall for you.

“Don’t make a fuss about it,” he said as he smoothed out the blanket. “It’s not much, but it’ll do for now.”

You couldn’t help but feel touched. For someone who valued independence so much, Kinich was surprisingly attentive in his own way. You sat down on the cot, still a bit unsure of what to do next.

Kinich cleared his throat and turned toward the kitchen. “I’m making dinner. It’ll be ready in about an hour. You can relax until then.”

As he worked, you took a moment to look around the room. It wasn’t much, but it was his—his space, his home. The absence of his usual sharpness, the subtle kindness of his gestures, made you feel a little less alone. Even if he didn’t show it often, Kinich had a way of making you feel like you mattered.

Dinner was simple, a warm stew that smelled of fresh herbs and hearty vegetables. Kinich placed a bowl in front of you, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of something more than just duty.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, quietly breaking the silence. “Let me help with something.”

Kinich paused for a moment, his hand still on the pot as he glanced over at you. “It’s fine,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not doing it for you. Just… don’t let the food go to waste.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Kinich’s words were as blunt as always, but the care in his actions was something you couldn’t overlook. As you sat together at the table, eating in comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but think that, despite everything, you had found a place here—a place where, for the time being, you could heal

Over the next few days, life at Kinich’s house settled into a quiet routine. You’d help with the small tasks around the house—cleaning up, organizing things—and in return, Kinich would share bits and pieces of his life with you, small snippets of knowledge or skills that he’d learned over the years.

One evening, as the sun began to set, you found Kinich in the garden, tending to some plants in the fading light. You hadn’t realized how peaceful the house could feel when it was just the two of you, sharing this simple life together.

“Need help?” you asked, walking over to him.

Kinich glanced up, his face softening slightly. “If you want. I could always use another pair of hands around here.”

You knelt beside him, taking a small gardening trowel and gently digging into the soil. There was a strange comfort in working alongside him, the silence between you both not awkward but companionable, as if you were partners in something greater than just survival.

“Why do you do it?” you asked, looking up at him. “Tending to all this, I mean. I would’ve thought you’d want to leave it all behind.”

Kinich paused, the question catching him off guard. His eyes flickered briefly, almost hesitant, before he answered. “Because it’s mine. It’s the one thing in this world I can rely on. People… they come and go. But this? It’s real. It stays.”

You smiled at his answer, understanding him a little more than you had before. Kinich didn’t offer grand gestures or flowery words, but in the little things—like the way he cared for his home, or the way he offered you a place to stay when you needed it most—you saw his quiet strength.

And, despite his belief in self-sufficiency, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, for just a moment, you could be the one thing he’d allow himself to rely on, too.

That night, as you both sat by the fire, Kinich spoke again, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” he said, not looking directly at you but still offering the words with sincerity.

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thanks, Kinich. I… I really appreciate it.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “It’s not charity. It’s just… practical.”

But the warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

[spikershoyo]

birthday special | lando norris x f!reader | smut | minors DNI!

warnings, tags, and notes: smut, oral sex (fem and masc), eating cake while getting your pussy eaten (lol), mentions of drinking, Lando having the tiniest existential crisis, fingering, happy birthday to the only boy ever <3

Lando groaned softly when his eyes opened in the morning, already knowing he woke up too early on a day off. But he quickly relaxed back into the sheets when he felt your warm body against his, head tucked into the side of his neck, he was content with laying there for a few more hours. He didn’t know that you were already awake, having looked at his peaceful, sleeping face when you had woken up. 

You waited a few minutes to shift, murmuring a soft ‘good morning, baby’ as Lando tightened his hold around you. He grunts something back in response, eyes still heavy from sleep. You peppered kisses over his neck, eliciting a soft sound from Lando, your hands tracing down his warm body, making the Brit squirm. “Your hands are cold,” He sighed, relishing in your kisses. “Happy birthday, Lan,” You whispered into his skin. 

Lando smiles at the low congratulations, murmuring a ’thank you’ before pulling you closer, turning you both over, and having you sit on his lap. Lando sighed with contentment, watching you with adoring eyes. Hair messy and his t-shirt resting over your frame, it’s better than anything he could have asked for. 

Your hands now run down his bare chest, touching and feeling the skin you had access to at any time of the day, Lando’s wolfish smile beaming up at you as his hands rested on your hips, sliding under your sleeping shirt and tracing over your panties. “Look at you,” He hummed, shifting your hips so that you moved over his morning wood, making both of you groan out in pleasure. Lando entertains the idea of sinking into you and sleeping through the rest of the morning, meeting up with his parents later, but you have something else planned. 

You slide down his lap and settle between his legs, planting your hands on his thighs as you gaze up at him. “Wanted to give my sweet boy something special on his birthday morning,” Lando’s dazed expression makes you giggle, his fingers gripping onto the meat on your hips. 

Lando takes a deep breath when he feels your lips around the tip of his cock, your hands having pulled his boxers down. He leaned his head back on the pillows, getting comfortable while fighting back the urge to buck his hips into your mouth. 

Morning head on his birthday sounded heavenly, it was more than he could have asked for. Lando doesn’t last long, quickly finishing in your mouth and pulling you back up to him for a kiss. 

You managed to begrudgingly get Lando out of bed, still lazy from his first birthday treat. There were a few moments when Lando realized he was turning 25, a very real, very adult age. While avoiding a midlife crisis, you got him to get ready so you could go visit his family, who had landed in Monaco last night so they could celebrate Lando’s birthday. 

Everything was perfect, all the people he loved gathered around for a nice brunch. His parents, brother and sisters, friends, cousins, grandparents, and you, the person he most loved. 

He laughed and had the best of time, getting a small cake so the people he loves can celebrate him, and even now at 25 he still doesn’t know where to look when they’re singing happy birthday to him. So he settles to look at you. 

Later into the day you and Lando had decided to go out clubbing with a few friends for some more adult fun, a few of the drivers from the grid coming out to wish him a nice one. 

Lando’s tipsy and he’s happy, happier than he’s been in a while. He gets to hold you and kiss you, be celebrated by you, and just have a good day. So when you both come back stumbling into your apartment, tipsy and gleeful, Lando is insatiable. Ever since you both grabbed a cab back home he’s been all over you, whispering dirty promises and sweet nothings into your ears. 

You’re hungry when you walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water, Lando whining for you to come to bed, wanting to have you undressed. “Baby, come on,” He sighs, bent over and leaning on the kitchen island, gazing at you. “Hold on, birthday boy, I’m hungry.” When you open the door to the fridge nothing looks too appetizing except for Lando’s birthday cake. 

When Lando watches you stab a fork into his birthday cake, he smiles softly, walking towards you so he can settle his hands on your hips. “Gimme some,” He murmurs as he pulls you closer by your hips. You fork into the cake and stab him a piece, feeding it to him with a smile. Lando hums at the fluffy and sweet taste, the buttercream frosting melting across his tongue. “Come here,” He whispers, lifting you so you sit kitchen island. Your eyes gaze into his, dragging down his body, admiring the chain that hangs low on his chest, the few buttons he left open on his dress shirt taunting her to take it all off. 

Lando’s lips quickly press against your neck, mouthing over the heated skin, licking and biting gently. A soft moan escapes your lips as Lando spreads your legs apart, settling himself between them. “Lemme have another bite,” Lando then whispers against your lips. Lando’s hands rest on the top of your thighs, waiting expectantly with a dazed smile. 

You both share a few more bites of cake before the Brit decides he wants to eat something else. Slow, deliberate kisses are pressed down your chest, your party dress having been pushed down earlier. When he reaches the heat of your core he practically moans, hungry for more. 

Your hands run down the nape of his neck, coming back up to play with his curls when he pulls your panties down, pressing his nose against your core and smirking, littering kisses over your inner thigh before practically making out with your cunt. 

“Taste so good,” Lando moans, your hips bucking up against his mouth, whimpers falling from your lips with ease. Lando hums and nips gently against your clit, making you jolt and hit him swiftly in the back of his head, causing a laugh from the man between your legs. 

Lando eats you out like a man starved, whining and thrusting into the air as he looks up at you, eyes hooded and nose pressed against your bundle of nerves. Your body felt like it was on constant overdrive, a wave of hot and cold washing over you. 

“Oh, fuck, Lan,” You moan out, the sound resounding a bit in the fairly quiet apartment, the only other sound being the squelch between your legs, Lando’s tongue doing wonders for your pleasure. “H-hey, I should be the one pleasing you,” You chuckle breathlessly, cheeks flushed and feeling a beginning coil in your stomach. 

“This is a pleasure to me,” Lando mumbles against your pussy, pulling back to lick his lips and dip two fingers, making your mouth open in a loud moan. “That’s it, pretty girl, I know you’re close,” He smirks, knees starting to ache from kneeling on them. 

With one hand in his curls and the other one gripping the edge of the kitchen island, your hips buck up onto Lando’s digits, your bottom lip trembling when he blows air against your core. “Please, please, lemme cum, Lan, feels so good,” You plead, eyes staring down into pretty green eyes, his smile widening as you beg.

“Come on, baby, cum on my fingers,” Lando says, lips quickly going back to suck on your clit while his fingers pump in and out of your runny cunt, his soft chuckles sending shockwaves throughout your body.

When pleasure overcomes you, a delicious coil unwinding in your stomach, Lando licks up into your pussy, relishing in the slick and cleaning you up. 

Lando stands up from between your legs and licks his fingers, crashing his lips into yours so you can taste yourself on his tongue. “So sweet,” He murmurs against your lips, one of his hands coming up to swipe at his birthday cake, finger dipping into the frosting before he presses the digits against your bottom lip, prompting you to suck the yummy buttercream off. 

“And that’s even sweeter,” Lando cheekily adds, a small giggle escaping him once you roll your eyes at him. 

Now as the night ends and you’re both in the bathtub, soaking in the bubbles, Lando realizes that this is all he could have ever wanted. Sure, the presents and the company were nice, but all he wanted was you, and his wishes were granted. 

The Brit relaxes against your chest, freshly cut mullet damp and sticking to the nape of his neck, his eyes closed as your hands rested over his stomach under the water. “I love you,” Lando says, “Thank you for today, it’s been really nice.” He smiled to himself, knowing that this would be one of the many memorable birthdays he had. “I love you too, baby,” You whisper back to him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Happy birthday, Lando.” 

<3

[socksracoon10]

𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦… 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader, Max Verstappen x F!Reader A/N: Alright gang, I caved like I said I would, here's my first f1 fic lmao Read The Second Part: Hit and Run (Part 2)

𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙯 𝙅𝙧.

"You had a pretty nasty crash with (Y/N) (L/N) during qualifying today, do you have any words to share about the collision?" A reporter had asked Carlos, bringing the microphone closer to his lips. Boy did he have words, a very strong choice of them that he desperately wanted to spew out on national television. He bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes focusing in on the said driver just a few feet from where he stood. She was most likely giving her side of the story to the press, and it boiled his blood. He wanted to be nice, he wanted to be supportive. He liked to welcome everyone into the sport, make them feel like they belonged. Yet all his efforts to try and be the better person went down the drain as soon as she had rammed into him on track. That was his final straw. If it wasn't for the fact that she had been getting much more cocky during interviews, talking about how Carlos was an easy opponent and was practically no competition to her, he would've let this crash slide. His eyes drifted back to the patient reporter and he shook his head,

"I don't uh... want to talk about it. It happened, let's leave it at that." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. The reporter furrowed his brows, a doubtful pout on his lips as he tilted his head,

"Interesting you say that. (L/N) had a lot more to say."

"Oh, did she now?" Carlos raised an eyebrow; he couldn't help the way his body turned to completely face the reporter, his curiosity taking over him. He wanted to know what that idiot must've said to the press.

"She said, and I quote, 'Even if you give Carlos a million practices, he'll still fumble the bag like he did today...' what are your thoughts, Carlos?"

Carlos gaped at the reporter, his mind reeling with at least a thousand different responses, each of them having to deal with the fact that he was racing against an absolute asshole but he shook his head, trying to calm himself down. He knew his words would have weight, and he figured he might as well let her have fun for the time being. Let her have that confidence boost that she desired so strongly.

"Well, we'll see how it plays out during the race." Carlos snapped, forcing a thin smile before heading out of the press pen. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

Charles was having a wonderful weekend. Had P1 in all the practice sessions, got pole for qualifying and he was set to the win the race. He was so happy and hopeful, he knew that after a long while he was going to taste victory. Carlos had draped his arm over Charles's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze before exclaiming, "You're going to win tomorrow, I can feel it."

And then in came (Y/N) (L/N) like the absolute hurricane that she was, bopping her head to whatever stupid song was playing in her headphones. She glanced over to him, taking off one side of her headphones before scanning him from head to toe,

"You think I'd look good in red?" She asked, her head still moving side to side as she hummed with the song. Charles didn't understand it at first, and he frowned before it eventually clicked in his head,

"You'll never be in Ferrari," He scoffed, and she snorted,

"We'll see about that."

And see he did when he saw her coming up right behind him, ready to overtake him on the turn coming up, only to lose her grip and crash into him. As both cars spun towards the barriers, it wasn't hard to miss the way Charles began to scream over the radio, his voice hoarse and dry from the fact that all his hopes were diminished within seconds. He scrambled out of his bottled car and headed towards (L/N) who was looking over at her own car's damage. "You fool! You moron! What were you doing?" Charles roared, and she turned around with an exasperated sigh, "Trying to overtake you, and then I lost grip." She crossed her arms, and Charles clenched his fists, taking another step towards her, "You leave space! Leave space! I literally-" "Oh, quit whining. What's done is done, you can't be wallowing over it," She scoffed and as Charles was just about ready to shove her onto the ground, some of the marshals jogged over to break up the fight.

"You're lucky I didn't break your face," Charles spat, feeling the marshals drag him away. He glanced over his shoulder to see (L/N) mirroring his glare. He watched her lips twist into a scowl before she was taken out of his sight.

"We're sorry about that crash, Charles," A reporter sighed, shaking her head as she gave him a look of sympathy.

"I'm sorry for (L/N) for the next few races," Charles bit back, knowing that he was going to give it his all during the next race. 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣

A championship battle would've been much easier to win over an argument with (Y/N) (L/N). Max had figured that out the hard way. He had the fastest lap and was just about ready to overtake (L/N) when she had suddenly divebombed randomly into him, forcing him into the barriers. Max was beyond just pissed, he was fuming. He had never felt such strong rage in a very long time, and as he hopped out of his car with the help of the marshals, he knew he was about to start a war back at the garage. He had dropped his gloves onto the floor, shoved the helmet onto the ground before ripping off his balaclava with one intention in his mind: sort out whatever bullshit (L/N) kept bringing into these races. She was only 6th in the driver standings, but she sure acted like she was 2nd and that only did little to calm Max's anger. He had marched over to her team's garage much to the chagrin of those with him at Red Bull Racing.

"So, are we letting blind people race now?" Max barked, and he watched (L/N) crane her neck to get a good look at the man approaching her. She stood her ground, crossing her arms with that cocky look on her face. It drove Max wild looking at her, he hated her guts.

"Listen, it just happens. My bad," She put her hands in the air, taking a step back as she noticed Max losing his mind.

"Just happens? Just... happens? Seriously? Are you fucking stupid? That shouldn't be happening! I have a championship to win and you just ruined it for me!" "Hey, I DNF'd too. We're both in the same boat," (L/N) exclaimed.

"I'm fighting for the championship, you're fighting to secure your seat for the next season because you are nothing but shit!" Max hissed which earned a couple gasps from those at the garage. Within seconds he was dragged back to Red Bull Racing's garage, but he couldn't help but notice the smirk on her face. A part of him wondered if she did it on purpose. After all, (Y/N) (L/N) had nothing to lose at the moment so it wouldn't surprise him. He sank down onto a chair, impatiently tapping his foot as he watched the race continue without him.

He couldn't wait to wipe that smirk off her face next time.

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 2 - Next

"Those were the words of the former captain of the Tulpar ship, owned by Pony Express, Grant Curly, who miraculously was the only survivor even in his condition after going through a series of murders on the ship, completely vulnerable, by the same person who caused the crash, his co-pilot Jimmy-"

You turned off the television while they were broadcasting Curly's testimony on all channels.

"I'll go buy a few things" you mentioned, getting up from your seat and putting on a jacket to go out. "Wanna come with me?"

Curly turned to look at you curiously, thinking you were going to leave him there on his own until you returned, or that you would take him without asking to keep him close.

Curly: "Please"

He sighed and you took his chair to start pushing him to the store.

They could notice the looks of the people passing by, all recognizing the man, but none able to approach him to ask a question.

"Do you like peas? Lin told me that you could eat without any problem as long as your pieces are small." 

Curly: "I have no problem with the food... I just don't like sweets."

"Okay"

You nodded, adding things to the cart, checking the prices, and thinking about what you could cook.

He stood gazing into the distance at the chocolate aisle, remembering the boxes of chocolates he used to buy for Linda, sighing at the thought that those days were in the past.

He found it strange to think that she was already over 50, while he remained at the age of 34, now being cared for by the younger sister of the woman who had once been his fiancée, who must now be around 32.

Curly: "Your birthday... It was a few months ago, right? I remember Linda used to say that she liked spring because it was when you were born."

"...No, my birthday hasn't happened yet, there's still some time left. But I don't really celebrate it, I just treat myself and that's it."

You shrugged even while looking at the products on the shelves.

Having everything you needed, you went to the cash registers to pay. The woman had seen Curly on television and gave him a discount as if he were some kind of veteran or senior.

That didn't please the man very much.

You stopped halfway back to his home, the streets were no longer so busy, after all, you had left a bit late after all.

"Would you like to feel something different?"

You asked him while firmly holding the wheelchair, there was a slight slope on that street, the man immediately turned to look at you, you looked excited to do something, like a child about to pull a prank.

Curly: "Sure?..." he said without being very convinced

And he let out a scream when you climbed onto the chair's wheel tubes and let the slope of the street make you go down, he could only hear a mix of his screams and your laughter as you went down.

He feared crashing into something or flying off, he didn't want to experience more pain, but the chair kept moving even after the descent was over. Curly was grateful for the good quality of the chair, and that it didn't fall apart when you got on it too. He was able to breathe easy when they stopped after a few seconds.

"And we arrived! Much faster, right?"

You patted his shoulder, ready to get off and push him inside the house, the man could feel the rapid beating of his heart at that moment.

Curly: "Do you do things like this often?" he asked, trying to have a conversation to calm down.

"Didn't you feel more alive?"

He fell silent as he thought about your question, while they descended, the only thing he could feel was his heart racing, the wind on his face, and he heard your laughter close to him, but at no moment was there sadness, remorse, or any of those emotions he constantly felt.

Just adrenaline.

Curly: "You could say that... yes..."

You put the groceries in their place and left out only what you were going to use, you ended up making some fried rice with chicken, egg, onion, and peas.

You could see how the man struggled to use his prosthesis to hold his utensils and eat, everything falling onto the table several times.

You moved your chair closer to him, making him look at you.

"Do you want to keep trying or would you prefer that I help you?"

Curly: "I give up for today..." was his only response, sighing.

You took food on your fork and brought it to his face, he opened his mouth and finally managed to take a bite, enjoying the taste of that simple food, he had missed homemade meals after so much time eating the provisions on the ship and then the bland hospital food.

"And? How is it?"

Curly: "Delicious," he replied, opening his mouth, hoping you would give him more.

You couldn't help but compare it to a baby bird begging for food, but you held back your laughter to keep feeding it.

Curly: "Mm.. So, when is your birthday?"

It was a very bad idea to talk to his implant while eating, causing him to start coughing as he choked on the food. 

"Well... It's exactly in 5 weeks," you smiled, making him raise his arms and you patted his back.

He was surprised at how quickly he was able to stop coughing when you did that, you immediately handed him a glass of water.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to get a cloth to clean the food scraps off the table."

You mentioned standing up to go to the kitchen.

While you were away, he kept trying to eat on his own, managing to get a small amount of rice on his fork and being able to eat that.

While he chewed, he kept watching out the window; that orange and reddish color appearing in the trees was tinting the whole place.

Her birthday... It's in autumn...

[jmkjournalblog]

"Soulmates" Part 1

Part 2

Pairing:Wednesday Addams x FemVampire! Reader

Summary: The Fem!reader, vampire with a penchant for dark humor and psychopathic tendencies, is sent to Nevermore Academy by her parents following an unpleasant incident involving the murder of a couple of triple students in her previous school. Despite their contrasting personalities, the reader and Wednesday form a complex bond, navigating their differences while facing challenges that threaten to keep them apart.

A/N: This text combines three chapters written at different times, so there might be slight differences in style. Also, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes))

Warnings: Shitty humor

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the picturesque town. It was a quaint, almost idyllic place, with its cobblestone streets and charming old buildings—a far cry from the darkness that lurked within the reader's soul. She stood at the edge of town, a lone figure amidst the bustle of the afternoon crowd. Tall and imposing, with an air of quiet confidence that set her apart from the ordinary townsfolk, she surveyed her surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

The Y/n was not here by choice. No, she had been sent—a pawn in a game she had no desire to play. Her parents, in their infinite wisdom—or perhaps, their utter lack thereof—had deemed it necessary to exile her to Nevermore Academy, a school for misfits and outcasts. It was a punishment disguised as a solution, a way to rid themselves of a daughter whose darkness they could no longer abide.

And so, here she was, alone in a town that reeked of desperation and decay, a stranger in a strange land. It was a bitter irony, she thought, that a creature such as herself—a creature of the night, born to roam the shadows—should find herself so utterly exposed in the harsh light of day. But she was not one to dwell on self-pity, nor was she inclined to mourn the loss of a home she had long outgrown. No, she would embrace this new chapter of her existence with the same ferocity that she embraced life itself.

With a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes, the Y/n turned her gaze towards the looming silhouette of Nevermore Academy, its spires reaching towards the heavens like the fingers of a long-forgotten deity. And as she took her first steps towards her new prison, she couldn't help but wonder what twisted fate awaited her within its hallowed halls.

*Y/n POV*

As I stepped into the imposing entrance hall of Nevermore Academy, I was greeted by the sight of a young girl. She was dressed in the school uniform, her blond hair falling in waves around her shoulders as she approached with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Welcome to Nevermore Academy," she said with a wry smile, extending her hand in greeting. "I'm Enid Sinclair. And you must be the new arrival."

I nodded, returning her handshake. Enid's warmth and charm were a welcome contrast to the oppressive atmosphere that hung me like a shroud.

"Nice to meet you," I replied with a forced smile. There's no point in being rude, this school is my last resort, and it's better to try to be nicer to people. "I must admit, I wasn't sure if anyone would meet me."

" I always give a tour of the school to new students, especially since you will be my roommate." A smile spread across her face. God, I wish I could be as carefree "It's going to be so much fun, you, me and Wednesday are three new best friends".

Three best friends? Well, that's one way to look at it—a trio of misfits ready to conquer the world, or at least survive sharing a room.

"Wow, lucky me," I muttered inwardly, plastering on a grin that probably looked more like a grimace. "I've always wanted to be part of a trio. How did you know?" 

I forced another polite smile, masking my inner cynicism with practiced ease. "Okay, we can't stand here all day. Let's go. "

After walking around all the main areas of the school, Enid and I headed towards our room. The whole time we were walking, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place was definitely going to be interesting. Enid had her own issues, but I'd always been attracted to people who looked at the world with an unhealthy amount of optimism. Talking to her should dilute my morbid thoughts with a touch of sweet idiocy. For being alone with myself again does me no good, though it gives me a lot of pleasure.

“So, roomie, ready to see your new abode?” - Enid said with a smile, her hand resting on the doorknob. With a casual shrug, I followed her into the room.

A huge room greeted us, with beds on both sides. The left side was a riot of colors, what I would call “colorblind worst nightmare” It was a cacophony of hues that defied description. Plush toys adorned one wall. Well at least it is not dakimakura with half-naked characters from anime or furi costumes. On the other side of the room, the atmosphere was stark—black linens on the bed, a desk, and a typewriter. Its practically untouched. It felt more like a museum piece than a living space, devoid of any trace of personality. Enid had mentioned that the other girl had only recently moved in…

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY ROOM ROOM?” – Enid asked in irritation.

Her voice startling me out of my thoughts. Distractedly looking around the room, I completely missed the girl who was tearing off colored stickers from the right half of the huge window. It must be Wednesday.

“Dividing our room equally,” replied Wednesday, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked the last of the colored paper to Enid's side for emphasis. "It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side." She finished in a calm tone, as she returned to the desk at her side of the room.

God, I love drama.

“I...” I could literally see Enid's ears steaming right now.

“Silence would be appreciated.” Wednesday spoke as she quickly cut her roommate off. "This is my writing time."

I like this school already.

“Your writing time ? ” Enid asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wednesday rolled up her sleeves as she situated herself in front of her typewriter. “I devote an hour a day to my novel. Perhaps if you did the same your vlog might be coherent.” she slides the carriage of the typewriter to the side as she continued, “I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation.”

She read serial killer diaries? One point to the goth girl.

Enid clenched her fists “I write in my voice. It's my truth. It's what my followers love.”

“Your followers are clearly imbeciles.” Wednesday stood up from her desk as she moved infront of Enid. “They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures.”

“Uh, you mean emoji's?” a small smile appears on Enid face “It's how people express their feelings. I realize that's a foreign concept to you.”

“When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope, shovel, hole.” She continues “By the way, there are two D's in Addams." she moved back over to her desk. “If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly.”

“Ahem”- as much as I'd love for this delightful show to continue, I can't just stand there like an idiot with things to do. I could certainly settle down nicely on my suitcase to brew some coffee and continue watching this wonderful drama, but I think sooner or later they'll notice me.

“Oh, sorry about that please, I'm just not used to this attitude. Wednesday, meet Y/n. She's going to live with us too.”

“That's okay, Enid, you can continue this lovely conversation, very intriguing actually. All I need to do is put my things somewhere and ideally lie down myself. The long drive and the splendid but somewhat drawn-out tour, has tired me out.”

Wednesday turned to me. “Nice to meet you, now if you'll excuse it’s my writing time,” she said, before turning back to her typewriter. She began methodically tapping the keys of her typewriter.

I smiled to myself, amused by the interaction. These two were definitely something else.

“Ms. Thornhill has decided that your bed will be on Wednesday's side, there's more room and the closet is close by. Bed should be arriving soon, but in the meantime, you can lay out your things, the outer two doors are yours.”

“Got it, okay then, that's what I'll do for now.”

Taking the suitcase in my hands I headed over to the closet, starting to put things away. I've always had a problem with this, not that I don't like it on the contrary, pedantically folding shirt to shirt, pants to pants, has always calmed me down. Things in the closet should look like they're on the counter of a boutique. If something doesn't look right, I can't sleep well.

Enid put on a song. I guess this is another one of God's tests for all the sins I've done. Don't get me wrong, I like music, but on rare occasions. People who play it on a regular basis to soundtrack their daily routine are the real psychopaths.

“Turn it off!” Wednesday gets up from her chair and heads over to Enid.

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the exchange. It was moments like this that made me grateful for immortality. Trying not to attract attention, I peeked out from behind the locker door, amused by the unfolding drama.

“This is your final warning!”

As she got too close Enid raised her hands and let out her rainbow painted nails out a claw. “Don't mess with me. This kitty’s got claws and I’m not afraid to use them.”

Suddenly the door swings open and a woman walks into the room.

“Good evening girls.” She looks around the room throwing a glance first at me and then at Wednesday. “I wanted to make sure that Wednesday and Y/n was settling in...”

She walks to the middle of the room, kicking up mud from her shoes on the wooden floor…. It drives me insane.

“I’m Ms. Thornhill, your dorm mom. Apologies, I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived. I trust Enid has given you the old Nevermore welcome.”

“She's been smothering us with hospitality, I hope to return the favor. In her sleep”.

Such unconcealed aggression, I like it.

“Enid did a great job of showing and telling me everything, thank her so much, and it's nice to meet you,” I interjected, wanting to move the conversation along.

Ms. Thornhill turned to me, offering a warm smile. “I'm very glad it went well.”

“The only thing I would like to ask about is the bed. I wouldn't really want to sleep on the floor on the first day in such a beautiful place. It would have dampened all the excitement I got out of today.”

“Oh right, the guys were supposed to bring it, but it looks like they're running late. I'll have to find them again and tell them.”

At this rate, I was going to sleep on the floor tonight.

“Ms. Thornhill, why do we need the guys? Why don't you just show me where to get it, and I'll take it from there? I think I'm strong enough to do that,” I replied with a sweet smile.

She looked at me in disbelief. I smiled a little, letting her catch a glimpse of my fangs.

“Ah, okay, I didn't realize right away. Not all vampires who are in this school have abilities such as strength or speed, so...Let's go,” she said, turning around and heading for the door. I followed her, casting a disdainful glance at the dirt left on the floor.

Who even does things like that?

Y/n POV

The walk with Ms. Thornhill was uneventful, except for her curious glances, which I pretended not to notice. She seemed… overly friendly, and her cheery disposition grated against every instinct I had. There was something unsettling in how her smile lingered just a bit too long. Still, I played the obedient new student—sweet smiles, polite nods, not even a hint of fangs. It wasn’t hard to find the storage area, cluttered with dusty furniture and half-forgotten relics from who knows how long ago. With little more than a gesture, I hefted the bedframe onto my shoulder, making it look far easier than it should have been.

As I walked back through the hallways of Nevermore, I couldn’t help but scan the dimly lit corridors and high arched ceilings. This place was dripping with history and secrets—I could practically taste it in the air. I wondered what kind of skeletons were hiding in these closets and whether any of them were literal. The thought amused me enough to crack a smile, which I quickly smothered when I caught sight of the door to our room.

Returning to find Enid attempting to cheerfully hang more decorations—and failing spectacularly in the face of Wednesday’s withering glares—was almost worth the trouble. Almost. I stepped into the room, set down the bedframe with a soft thud, and stretched slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh that earned me a sideways glance from both girls. I raised an eyebrow at Wednesday, who, naturally, looked unimpressed.

“You’re back,” she stated flatly, her attention already returning to the clack of typewriter keys. “I’d begun hoping you’d gotten lost and decided to stay that way.”

I grinned, leaning casually against the wall as I met her icy gaze. “Oh, did you miss me already, Wednesday? I’m touched.” I let my words drip with playful mockery, watching for her reaction.

She didn’t even pause her typing. “I don’t miss nuisances. They have a way of making themselves known whether one wishes it or not.”

“Well, it’s good to know I’ve made an impression,” I replied lightly, crossing my arms. “I do so hate being forgettable.”

There it was—a slight pause in her keystrokes. Barely perceptible, but I saw it. Victory. She resumed typing, but I could see the muscles in her jaw tense, and that alone was worth every ounce of effort. Behind me, Enid let out an exaggerated groan.

“Can you two not flirt for five minutes?” Enid asked, half-exasperated and half-amused as she tossed another garish pillow onto her bed.

“Flirting?” I said innocently, a hand coming to my chest. “Enid, I think you’ve misunderstood me. I was simply trying to have a civil conversation.”

“Your idea of civil conversation seems to involve needling people until they bleed,” Wednesday remarked coolly, finally glancing my way. “I’m sure you’re quite proud of yourself.”

“Oh, very,” I said, flashing a grin that showed just the hint of fang. “But I only needle people who are interesting. Take that as a compliment.”

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a spark in her dark eyes. A dangerous, calculating spark. “Compliments from you hold about as much value as a counterfeit coin. Useless and possibly diseased.”

I tilted my head, letting my smile widen. “And yet you’ve pocketed it anyway.”

“Enough!” Enid interjected, throwing her hands in the air. “I’m already regretting my decision to be roommates with either of you.”

“I thought we were best friends, Enid?” I teased, giving her a mock-wounded look. She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

As the brief silence fell, Wednesday turned back to her typewriter, the clack of the keys resuming with renewed vigor. I moved to finish setting up my space, feeling her presence keenly even as she pretended, I didn’t exist. But I knew better. She’d noticed me, whether she liked it or not. And I intended to keep it that way.

I focused on arranging the few belongings I had, keeping one eye on my two roommates. Enid flitted around, determined to keep the atmosphere upbeat despite the thickening tension, while Wednesday remained stoic, her fingers tapping out words with relentless precision. The mechanical clatter of the typewriter filled the room, a fitting soundtrack to our peculiar dynamic.

As I stowed the last of my clothes, I moved to the shared windowsill. Half of it, Wednesday’s half, was bare and colorless, just like the rest of her side. I dragged a finger across the divider she’d drawn—black tape down the middle, stark and deliberate. When she’d divided the room, she hadn’t left any margin for negotiation. That was fine. I wasn’t one to negotiate either.

“Did you choose the décor yourself?” I asked, tone light but teasing. “It really says a lot about you.”

The typewriter stopped mid-sentence, and her head turned, her expression a mask of cold detachment. “If by ‘a lot’ you mean ‘nothing,’ then you are correct. My surroundings reflect my disregard for frivolity.”

I leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed, giving her a slow once-over. “Yes, I see that. Stark, somber, a touch of morbidity… What’s next, Wednesday? Iron bars over your window? A ‘keep out’ sign? Or is this already your version of a welcome mat?”

“Those who need signs to warn them of danger are already too foolish to avoid it,” she retorted, her voice like ice. She didn’t look away, and I felt the weight of her attention settle on me like a dare.

“Danger? That sounds intriguing.” I stepped closer, deliberately closing the space between us. “But I’d rather find out for myself than take your word for it.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she’d lash out. Instead, she simply pushed her chair back with a quiet scrape and stood. “Are you always this insufferable?” she asked, stepping closer herself. We were nearly face-to-face now, her glare as sharp as a blade.

“Only when I’m provoked,” I said, my voice softening, the challenge in it unmistakable. “Or intrigued.”

For a heartbeat, I thought she might reach for one of her knives. It wouldn’t have surprised me. But then she stepped back, and the flicker of emotion was gone, replaced by a cold, composed exterior. “Intrigue is a fleeting distraction. You’ll tire of it soon enough.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” I murmured, watching her turn her back to me and return to her typewriter. I had to give it to her; she was disciplined. She’d withdrawn from the confrontation as if it hadn’t fazed her, as if the moment hadn’t happened. But it had.

Enid broke the silence, plopping down onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. “Why can’t we all just get along? Isn’t this supposed to be like… the beginning of a beautiful friendship?”

“I don’t recall asking for friendship,” Wednesday replied without looking up.

“And I don’t recall rejecting it,” I added with a smirk, earning a scoff from Wednesday.

“See?” Enid grinned, ever the optimist. “Progress! I’m telling you, we’re going to be the best trio ever. Just give it time.”

“Optimism is a fool’s currency,” Wednesday stated, resuming her typing. “It’s usually spent too freely and leaves the owner penniless.”

“Good thing I have plenty to spare,” Enid shot back, unfazed. She turned to me. “Y/n, you’ll see. She’s all doom and gloom now, but she’ll warm up eventually.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I said, letting the implication linger. “Though I have to admit, I like her just the way she is.”

Wednesday’s fingers paused for a fraction of a second, and my grin widened. There it was again—the tell that she was paying attention, even if she pretended otherwise.

Enid reached for her phone, likely ready to drown out the tension with music or social media, but she paused, her expression curious. “So, Y/n… what brought you to Nevermore?”

“Exile,” I said simply, my voice taking on a darker edge. “I’m here because my family thought it would be safer to have me… away.”

Enid blinked, unsure whether I was joking. “Safer for who?”

“Exactly.” I allowed a flicker of my fangs to show, then shrugged. “But this place isn’t so bad. It might even grow on me.”

“It’s full of disappointments,” Wednesday said coolly, not missing a beat. “Don’t let the shadows fool you.”

“Disappointments keep things interesting,” I replied, stepping back toward my side of the room. “And I’ve always been drawn to interesting things.”

I felt her eyes on me even after she turned back to her writing. This was going to be fun. Dangerous, maybe—but undeniably fun.

The next morning, the air was crisp, and a thin layer of fog crept around the gothic towers of Nevermore Academy. I found myself sitting on the edge of my freshly delivered bed, lacing up my boots. The rest of the room was quiet, but I could feel a watchful presence. Turning slightly, I caught Wednesday’s reflection in the mirror; she was silently observing me while pretending to prepare her things. Her eyes were intense as ever, like she was sizing me up, waiting for me to make the first move. It amused me, and I made no effort to hide my grin.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I teased, breaking the tension in the room.

She blinked, a slow, deliberate motion that barely disguised her disdain. “Please spare me your nauseating pleasantries.”

“Why, Wednesday, it almost sounds like you didn’t sleep well.” I stood, stretching. “I’d say I’m hurt by that, but I do recall you typing well into the night. Plotting murder, perhaps?”

“If I were plotting murder, you wouldn’t have woken up,” she replied with a deadpan expression.

I laughed softly, loving how quick she was. “Noted. I’ll try to be more deserving of your mercy.” I leaned closer as I passed her on the way to the door. “For now.”

“Don’t push your luck,” she muttered, though there was a glint in her eyes that suggested she was far from indifferent. Oh, this was definitely going to be an interesting place.

The hallway was bustling with other students, each an oddity in their own right—shapeshifters, psychics, sirens, and more. I navigated the throng with ease, catching glimpses of curious eyes that lingered just a moment too long. Whispers followed me. New arrivals always attracted attention, and I wasn’t exactly the type to blend in.

“Y/n!” Enid’s cheery voice pierced the noise, and she bounded over like a hyperactive puppy, practically glowing with excitement. “How did you sleep? Oh! You’re going to love breakfast here—it’s the best part of the day!”

“I’m surprised you managed to sleep at all with the ambiance,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I half-expected bats to swoop down from the rafters.

“Oh, they’ve tried.” She shrugged with a wide smile. “But seriously, come on! The sausages are to die for.”

I followed her, letting Enid’s chatter wash over me. She was like a rainbow in this dreary place, and, strangely, I found her optimism a welcome contrast. Wednesday walked a few steps behind us, silent and brooding as ever. It was almost comforting.

The cafeteria was a storm of voices, laughter, and clinking trays. Enid led me through the throng of students, her energy a stark contrast to the brooding architecture of Nevermore. We found a spot at a small table near one of the tall, stained-glass windows. As I settled in, a presence made itself known—a girl with sleek black hair, crimson-tinted sunglasses, and a confident air that turned heads without effort. She walked up, holding her tray like she owned the place.

“Mind if I join?” she asked, but it was rhetorical. She was already sitting down, her eyes on me.

Enid perked up. “Oh! Y/n, this is Yoko Tanaka. Yoko, meet Y/n. She’s new.”

“Yoko,” I repeated, my gaze trailing over her with casual interest. I extended a hand, playing along. “Nice to meet you.”

Her grip was cool, steady. She didn’t let go right away, and her lips curled into a smile. “The pleasure’s all mine. So, Enid’s newest roommate, huh? Welcome to the madhouse.”

I returned her smile, undeterred by the playful challenge in her tone. “Thanks. From what I’ve seen, I’m going to fit right in.”

“Really?” Yoko’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. “It takes a lot to fit in here. But something tells me you’ll manage.” She tilted her head slightly. “You’re not... ordinary, are you?”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I might,” she replied, the light catching the edge of her sunglasses. “Most newcomers are easy to read. But you? You’re a little... more.”

Wednesday, who had been quietly picking at her food, suddenly spoke up. “If you two are done exchanging veiled flirtations, there are more important matters at hand.”

I turned my gaze to her, a smirk playing on my lips. “You know, Wednesday, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

“Jealousy is a pointless emotion,” she said flatly, though her eyes seemed to darken. “I simply despise wasted time.”

“Oh, so you’d rather spend your time... constructively?” I asked, feigning deep interest. “Writing your next bestseller or analyzing the cafeteria’s murder statistics?”

She set her fork down with deliberate precision. “Both. I find productivity in all things. Unlike some people who waste their breath on hollow banter.”

“See?” I leaned forward conspiratorially, turning to Yoko. “This is what I get for trying to lighten the mood.”

Yoko laughed, a rich, throaty sound that drew a few glances. “You two are something. But don’t worry—I enjoy the kind of banter that makes the daylight hours less boring.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I asked, deciding to prod a little. “To liven things up for me?”

She pushed her sunglasses up, revealing striking eyes that glimmered with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure you out. Vampires don’t often get surprises, you know.”

“Vampires?” I arched an eyebrow, pretending not to know. “Is that what we’re calling ourselves these days?”

Enid jumped in with a cheerful clap of her hands. “Y/n’s also a vampire, Yoko! You two should totally hang out. Maybe you can teach her the ropes!”

Yoko’s smile widened, showing a hint of fang. “Oh, I’d be delighted. As long as she doesn’t get scared too easily.”

I matched her smile, unflinching. “Scared? That’s not really my thing.”

“Good.” Yoko’s voice dropped, her gaze sharpening. “Because there are plenty of things in Nevermore that will test your limits. I’d hate for you to miss out.”

Before I could respond, Wednesday stood up abruptly, gathering her tray. “This conversation has officially crossed into drivel. Some of us have standards.”

“Leaving already?” I asked, enjoying the way her expression never wavered.

“Unlike you, I have productive tasks awaiting me.” She paused, her dark eyes meeting mine. “Try not to lower the collective intelligence of the room while I’m gone.”

I grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

She left without another word, and for a moment, I could have sworn there was a hint of amusement hidden beneath her icy exterior. Yoko watched her go, then turned back to me, a knowing look on her face. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Good,” I replied. “I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.”

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 2

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Hair pulling, PIV, condom use. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: You followed Dr. Richmond’s instructions to the best of your ability. You spent so much time in your mind that willingly descending into your body was an experience that opened your eyes to how much you had neglected. Your second session forces you to confront more truths than what you were ready for. 

Terry reaches some conclusions of his own as he tries to shake whatever is ailing him by disappearing between Tasia’s thighs. Yet his mind is on you, on your thoughts and words. During the second session, he can’t help but push you beyond your limit.

Word Count: 5,018k

Part 1 | AO3 Link

A/N: I'n back babbyyyy. I got so inspired reading so many lovely fics. Plus the encouraging asks really helped. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You

Hot steam rolled out from the shower as you set it to your desired temperature. You faced yourself in the mirror, thinking over Dr. Richmond’s words. You supposed that there was some truth to what he had told you.

Most people did start by exploring their own bodies first. It must be so easy for guys. Close the door, grab some lotion, and rub one out. Girls on the other hand…your life was constantly spent in a state of panic.

Panic that anything on your person would make your mother snap. Harsh criticisms hidden behind “just talkin’ shit” that Black people liked to hide behind. You were too sensitive to jokey-joke with when you weren’t able to reciprocate. It’s not like you could talk about your mom. It’s not like you could throw insults back in her face and tell her to take it in stride.

Panic that you could be caught or exposed at any point. You were a grown woman, yes. You were also taught to believe that you needed to act as if someone was watching. You believed there was some kind of life after all this and so wouldn’t it stand to reason that someone or something would be looking at you? Or worse, someone would come flying through your door because your family lacked boundaries? 

Panic that you didn’t know what lay on the other side of an orgasm. How would you feel? How would you look? Surely something like that changed a person. Feeling that rush of relief for the first time had to be special. Had to be amazing. Otherwise, why would anyone ever be obsessed with sex? 

Panic that you’d never reach that peak and fall over. Never feel that rush of euphoria that everyone talked about. Porn, books, friend groups. You always felt left out and you didn’t want to anymore, dammit. 

You watched yourself in the mirror as steam overtook it, inch by inch. Until you were only staring at your eyes and the disbelief written all over your face. Would this even work? Were you wasting your time? 

“I need total, focused commitment from you.”

Dr. Richmond’s sultry voice skittered along your naked skin. Goosebumps raised on your flesh from the cold air moving through the house. You would be focused. You would be committed. This was something you wanted so badly, you were fucking desperate. 

So you took deep, measured breaths using the Box method a previous therapist told you about. You inhaled for a count of four, held for four, exhaled for a count of four, and then held it for four. You repeated the process, doing a full body scan. 

You focused on your head, starting with your scalp. You focused on your forehead, feeling the tension melt away and your eyebrows start to relax. You hadn’t even realized that you had it scrunched.

You brought your attention to your eyes, unfocusing them, and allowed them to close. You repeated the process, breathing the entire time, settling down into your body when your mind wanted so badly to escape. To flee. To leave the Horrors. 

When you felt your mind drift, you didn’t chastise yourself. You continued to breathe, focusing on your breaths until you continued with your scan. Your body relaxed fraction by fraction. Your shoulders lowered from up around your neck. Aches and pains became more prominent. 

Your belly expanded and you sighed. You hadn’t even noticed how often you clenched your stomach, never allowing yourself a full breath. You always had to be on edge. Never knew where the next danger was coming from. What new fresh hell you would encounter just around the corner. 

By the time you reached your feet, you felt more relaxed than you had in a long time. Your body prickled with your newfound awareness. Steam caressed your bareskin and you quickly hopped in the shower, letting the warm water cascade across your body.

The water felt different on your body. Each droplet may as well have been a tiny earthquake, popping all over your skin and making you tingle. This…wasn’t too bad. 

You lathered up your facial scrub and gently moisturized your face, soothing the stiff areas. Your jaw popped as it loosened and you moaned from the relief. 

How long? How long have you spent outside of your body? A stranger to it? A foreigner to this vessel you carried around? Had you truly loved your body when you were so alien to it? Or had you just learned to layer on the armor and pretend? 

God, you felt like crying. With one session, Dr. Richmond already had you re-thinking your entire life. Like the answer was there in your face the entire time and you just needed him to shine a light on it. 

You rinsed your face while you grabbed a washcloth and lathered up with your favorite soap. You added body wash and then took your time trailing the washcloth around your body. Starting with your neck, you worked your way down to your chest. 

You took your time feeling the rough cloth against your smooth, watery skin. You rounded the washcloth across your nipples and they beaded under the slow torture. Oh, this was new. This was very nice. 

You were focused, letting the water act as a sound machine, lulling you into a further relaxed state. You followed the washcloth with your hand, moving over and under your areolas and nipples. You pinched your nipples and gave it a tug. You gasped from the responding tug in your pussy.

You moved on, remembering Dr. Richmond’s words about not making it sexual. But fuck, how could you not? 

Heat flushed beneath your skin that had nothing to do with the hot water on your body. You washed your back and then moved lower, skirting your throbbing pussy and washed your legs and dug the cloth between your toes. 

On the way up, your fingers glided around your mound, your hips pushing forward. Your breathing turned rapid, feeling yourself getting more and more excited. Your brain turned to mush, retreating from your actions. Like it wanted to picture something else. You shook your head, and started up with your Box breathing again.

You stopped mid-shower to reorient yourself and get yourself back into that zone of ultimate calm. If Dr. Richmond were there…

You focused on what he might say. There was no rush. There was no rulebook for this sort of thing. There was no reason to chastise yourself. There was no test to pass or box you had to check in order to achieve an orgasm. You just needed to relax, dammit. 

Slowly, achingly slow, you went back to that calm. You continued lathering up your body and then rinsed the soap off. You repeated the process, adding more soap to thoroughly wash your body. To enjoy the feel of the cloth and water and soap on your skin. On your body. 

“This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body.”

This was the only body you would ever have. It was time you stopped treating it like the enemy. 

You turned off the water and then got out. The chill air hit the water on your back and you shrieked and shivered, quickly drying off. You went through your nightly routine, taking care of your teeth, face, and deodorant. You sat down on a decorated stool in your bathroom to apply your lotion.

As instructed, you looked at your body. Every mole, every scar, every bump, and every wayward hair. Being in your body was weird to say the least. You had to disassociate to survive your childhood and you never learned to drop those defenses. Your body never realized that it wasn't at war anymore. Or perhaps it was and this was battle fatigue. You were so damn tired.

You massaged the lotion into your skin and then slipped in your panties. You pulled on an ankle bracelet you got while visiting New York once and it made you feel extra pretty, so why not. You turned on your bedside light and pulled out a notebook.

You started a new entry and wrote about the sensations and revelations you experienced. Some of it you would discuss with Dr. Richmond and some of it was never leaving your grave. It felt good to get it all out, uninterrupted.

Sometimes, venting to someone else just gave them room to talk over you. To steer the direction back to them. Brooklyn was like that. In an effort to relate, she ended up taking over the convo and made it about her situation. Then you ended up comforting her about her issue and never feeling truly heard about yours.

In a journal however, you pretended that you were just relaying it to a friend. The type of friend who allowed you to speak. To get your jumbled thoughts out without getting mad or trying overshadow you. 

Done, you collapsed against your bed as if every ounce of strength left your body. You breathed through it, allowed your body to rest for a moment. The hell kind of voo-doo shit did your therapist put you through?

Immediately, warning bells went off in your mind. Surely, you would be whisked away to some super important task around the house. Surely, your phone would ring with some awful accident you had to attend to. Surely…nothing. You were drained. You had nothing. 

You had just enough energy to put the journal up, turn off the light, and drift off to the deepest sleep of your life.

Terry

Tasia bounced like a porn star on Terry’s dick and it wasn’t doing a damn thing for him. He felt himself getting soft the more Tasia shuddered with her pleasure. At least one of them was having fun. 

Maybe he rushed this. Too intent on getting you out of his mind that he hopped immediately into Tasia’s warm heat and didn’t consider that there was no substitution. He knew it was irrational to be drawn to you so fast. After only one session. He was conflicted on that front, but it went beyond just looks. 

Your case, your assessments, your willingness to try, and your obvious smarts was a cocktail shooting through his veins and turning his body liquid. The perfect sub was dropped into his lap and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

And as a man used to getting his way in the bedroom, it stuck in his craw that he couldn’t have you. That it wasn’t your pussy that his dick disappeared inside of. Would you moan loudly? Were you shy in the bedroom? Were you enthusiastic? 

What would your mouth look like taking the full length of him? How far down could you suck him? Did that same determination translate to the bedroom?

Tasia grunted beneath him as his dick rose back to life, thoughts of you turning him harder than a brick. He could build a house with how hard he was at the moment, picturing the curves on your body. The natural handles in your waist for his big hands to wrap around. To hold.

He moaned, picturing it all so clearly. His thumbs would dig into your back. The sounds you would make. His hips jerked just thinking of pounding into you. No mercy. You weren’t some fragile flower. Your insightful thoughts were like a mirror to his own. He wanted to explore with you. And the fact that he couldn’t had him pulling Tasia’s hair back.

“Call me Dr. Richmond,” he commanded.

“Yes, D-Dr. Richmond,” Tasia moaned. It was starting to piss him off. 

“Softer,” he said.

“Yes, Dr. Richmond,” she said, bringing her voice lower, softer. It was nowhere near your voice, but it’d do for the fantasy he concocted in his head. He didn’t have time for any extra tricks tonight. He just needed to get to the other side of his nut. 

He closed his eyes and thought about your case. He wondered if you were doing as you were told. He wondered how well you would take commands in the bedroom. If he even had to give commands at all. If you’d instinctively know what he needed when he needed it. Tasia used to know that. Tasia used to have him out of breath. 

Now…she was a beautiful girl with deep mocha skin, a cute face, and wide expressive eyes. She was like a little doe in a meadow somewhere. He was attracted to the overall softness of her and of her body. The natural way she seemed to know what he needed. 

Perhaps it was him that had changed. His tastes. He was no longer interested in a casual sub-relationship. Perhaps he wanted a more permanent sub. One he could explore every single nasty fantasy with and never get bored. He was getting older, getting into his early-thirties without a significant partner.

And that was what he wanted. A partner. An equal. Someone he raced home to see or spent his days thinking about how he would break her and put her back together like a puzzle box. 

Terry groaned and came into the condom, gripping Tasia’s asscheeks for dear life. It was one of the hardest climaxes he ever experienced. His release triggered hers, causing her to fall forward as her pussy gripped his dick. 

He pulled out and immediately disposed of the condom, coming back to help clean up Tasia. 

“That was…different,” she said, using the word in place of something else. He didn’t want his reputation to slacken in that regard, but hell, this whole thing had been a mistake. He still made sure she came twice before he did, but he usually put more oomph into his sexual exploits. 

He usually had Tasia popping her pussy on his face, or contorting her like a pretzel. Now…he was just over it. Over trying to impress someone that wasn’t permanent in his life. That he couldn’t play with whenever he wanted. He was no longer excited at the prospect of making many women cum. He just wanted to make one cum over and over again. He wanted to collect each one like trophies. 

Terry grabbed Tasia’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Forgive me. Tonight should’ve probably been a gym night,” he said. He smiled for good measure, but it was a close-lipped smile.

“Oh, I’m not complaining. That dick still know how to rock my world,” she said. She stood up, pulling on her sweats and sweatshirt, and slipping on her sneakers. He sat down on the bed and watched her, not feeling an ounce of desire. 

She leaned over and grabbed his chin, making him look up at her. “You take care of yourself and whatever or whoever got you in this funk. And if you need more relief, you know my number,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with another close-lipped smile. Tasia had been one of his longest play partners, he’d be sorry to see her go. She smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, showing herself out. 

Terry sat in his fancy bedroom in his fancy house, staring at the empty archway Tasia disappeared through. His mind and body told him that he was ready for something more. Something tangible. Something he could hold and never let go. He only hoped he found it soon.

You

You clutched your journal to your chest as you sat in Dr. Richmond’s office. Nothing about it had changed except the man himself. He chose to wear a cream colored outfit. A soft, oatmeal colored sweater and khaki pants with white sneakers. His gold rimmed glasses flashed every so often from the light overhead and you couldn’t help catching every single thing about him. If only to distract you from your racing thoughts.

It was one thing to live in your body when you were in the comfort of your own bathroom. Your mind escaped once more, retreated to the safest place you knew. Your knee bounced with nervousness. 

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. This is a safe space. It’s your space. You get to decide what we do here,” he said. 

You closed your eyes to the sound of his voice. If he wasn’t so damn helpful, you’d ask for someone else. Literally, anyone else. But he was the first therapist to give you a glimpse of the other side. You wanted that more than you were embarrassed.

“No, I want to share. I need to share,” you said. You licked your lips and then cracked open your journal. You skimmed over things you didn’t want to reveal just yet. Too embarrassing for a second meeting, of course.

“I think…I think my mind is safer. I am constantly on alert that I’m “doing the right thing”, as opposed to what actually makes me happy,” you said. 

When you didn’t say anything, Terry leaned back in his seat. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the golden brown of his forearms. Your mind emptied of any other thought until he cleared his throat. “Can you expand on that?” 

You looked up into his eyes before heat rushed to your ears. You looked back at your journal, focusing on that rather than his lush, pink lips. 

You told him more about how you reached this conclusion. That there was a standard for being Black that you never quite achieved. That at any moment, multiple mobs of people were coming for your Black card. Or, you were constantly trying to over-achieve at school. You had to work twice as hard, had to be the smartest in the class, because if you came home with a B, your mom went on a long rant about being stupid and never achieving anything real in life. Or how everyone praised you at work for going above and beyond and then got mad when you couldn’t sustain it. You were constantly on the lookout for someone else’s standard.

“I have so many fucking voices in my ear, telling me to do this or do that. And I fucking hate it. Which is wild considering that that’s what I seek in a sexual partner,” you said.

Dr. Richmond smiled and nodded. “Your mind is trying to re-contextualize your upbringing. Being submissive is actually about putting yourself in the position of power. A dom is only as good as how well he treats his sub. It’s about the ultimate act of trust on the submissive’s part,” he explained.

“Yes! And how can I trust that someone isn’t going to…take what I say or want and abuse that or make fun of me for it?” You asked. You played with the corner of your journal, not willing to look at Dr. Richmond. You didn’t need to see the pathetic pity in his steel blue eyes. 

“You have to stand resolute in what you want. You have to recognize that pleasure and sex is about give and take. Trust and acceptance. The right partner isn’t going to make fun of you, abuse you, or rush you,” he said. 

You sighed and leaned back on the brown sofa. You felt like you were chasing a unicorn. What kind of guy was willing to be dominant and care about your needs? Reassure you when you needed and took control when your body sent massive panicked waves at him? Took care of the trust you were placing in him to help you relax and cum? While also being physically attractive to you and have you be attracted to him; not a chubby chaser, not a creep, and not an abuser? 

It was impossible. Hopeless.  

“If you’re comfortable, tell me more about what you found,” he said.

You took your mind off of your dream mystery man. When the fuck was it going to be your turn? 

You scanned your journal once more, noting the sensations about actually living inside your body. “I think when I feel an orgasm approaching, I get scared. And that could be part of why I’m blocking it, but even when I’m alone, I don’t know what it feels like. Or…”

“Or…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

You grimaced. Fuck, this was so hard to put into words. Too hard to expose yourself like this. But did you want to reach your sixties, seventies, never having a true orgasm? Never finding your way to actual release? 

“Or, there’s no way to control the orgasm,” you said.

Dr. Richmond nodded. “The goal isn’t to control it, you know,” he said. 

“I know!” You groaned and stood up. You thought better on your feet. Or maybe when you had something to do, you were better able to regulate the jumble of emotions inside of you. No wonder your emotions were all over the place. You spent too long disassociating, too long in your mind and not enough in your body. 

“What benefit do you get from being in control all the time?” The scratch of his pen on the notebook drew your attention to him. To his pretty face, dark eyelashes, and push lips. You watched as he wrote in his notebook. Watched the lines and planes of his gorgeous face. His short curled afro. 

“If I’m in control, if I never look weak or stupid or incompetent, then I win. I win at life. And all my bullies, from school to home are all wrong. There’s nothing wrong with me because I know what to do. I know what to say. I’m not an alien,” you said, taking a deep breath at the revelation.

Whatever your insurance company was paying him, they needed to double it. You admitted things you never had in the past. Your previous therapists attacked your problem sex first, focusing on different methods you could try. Some wanted you to describe, in detail, whatever you did to get yourself off. Safe to say they weren’t practicing ever again. 

“Do you believe there’s something wrong with you?” He asked. He leaned back in his seat, giving you an unflinching stare. His face gave away nothing, revealed nothing, as you thought through his question. 

“All the fucking time. Why else do friends keep leaving me? Or guys don’t want me? Or my mom is…my mom,” you said. 

“Have you considered that you aren’t the problem?” He asked.

“How could I not be? I’m the only common denominator,” you said. You flopped back onto the couch but it wasn’t that soft. It thudded under your weight and you took a deep breath. Fuck, you wanted to cry. Tears pricked your eyes, turning them hot and itchy. You refused to cry in front of this man. 

This strange, quiet man who seemed to read you like one of the many books on his bookshelf. No wonder he had so many degrees. He could drag a full confession from a mute. 

“That may be true. But, bear with me, consider that you aren’t the problem. If you take yourself out of the equation, what are you left with?” He asked. He leaned forward on his desk and the sudden intensity of the question made your mind blank.

You had…nothing. No explanation, no back up. You were used to making yourself the problem. The issue had to be you. If it wasn’t you…

You shrugged your shoulders and looked away from him. The silence stretched on, so quiet you could hear the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. 

“Don’t shy away now, dig into it. If it’s not you, then…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 

The question only seemed to make you clamp up. Your tongue swelled. Your throat constricted. If it wasn’t you, then what? Everyone was incapable of giving you what you wanted? Everyone just had an agenda against you? Please, that was narcissistic as hell. 

Dr. Richmond stood up from his desk and took off his glasses. He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a glass cleaner cloth. He cleaned his glasses and walked around the front of his desk.

“Consider, for a moment, that other people have deficiencies as well. That people congregate in groups because biologically, it’s safer. We seek groups to be in and when we can’t find one, we tend to think that we’re the problem. That we are outcasts, getting left out to defend ourselves. But all that means is that we haven’t found our group yet. You’re trying to fit a round peg into a square hole. You don’t belong with the squares, so no, you won’t fit in with them. 

“The same goes for sex. Everybody has their preferences. People have their kinks, their needs. When those needs aren’t meant, society teaches us to look at our own deficiencies rather than someone else’s. Perhaps the man you need sexually is far different from the men you take to bed,” he said. He waved around his glasses as he spoke, drawing attention to his massive hands. 

Seriously, they were huge. Like two lion paws that could strike down someone with one hit. He held his glasses by the frame, waving it around delicately as he spoke. You were still paying attention to his words, but fuck…he was unreal. 

“But how do I find the man that I need sexually?” You asked.

Terry

Terry inwardly groaned as you asked him that. Plenty of suggestions came to mind, each too crass to suggest. How could he tell you to go into another man’s arms? How could he send you to another man to unleash that hidden hellcat within you and he wouldn’t get to experience it? 

He needed to end this. End this before it even began. He placed his glasses back on his face and crossed a line that he never thought he would. “I think we have more work to do to adjust the way you think about sex before we get into how you attract what you’re seeking. In fact, I’d suggest you abstain from sex until we get deeper into this,” he said.

“Abstain?” You snorted and he fought a smile. Your face showed absolute disgust, like the mere thought was abhorrent. 

“Abstain. From what you’ve told me and what’s in your file, you jumped from overcoming your initial thoughts and reluctance about sex right to jumping into bed. Without really, truly exploring yourself first. Kids explore their bodies all the time right? They grow conscious of themselves and start thinking about hey, my equipment is different from someone else’s equipment,” he said.

You couldn’t help but giggle and it caused him to smirk in return. Yes, it was silly. Talking about sex was silly. But it was true. “And as you start to notice people that you’re attracted to, you start to grow conscious of hormones in your system. Brain chemistry. All the fun stuff that goes into attraction. You start to touch yourself more, explore your preferences through porn or books or experimentation.”

You cringed when he brought up experimentation. He tilted his head. “Did you go through an experimentation phase?” He asked.

You closed your eyes and sighed as if it were the last question you wanted to answer. You completely fascinated him. He had no idea what would come out of your mouth next. How you would respond to certain questions or ideas. 

He snuck a glance at the clock, he was nearing the end of the session. He flexed his jaw. This was so damn irritating. By the time you were willing to open up, it was time to end it. He wished he could carve out a month of sessions to get you to lower your defenses and let him inside. 

“No? I grew up in the wrong generation. All everyone thought about was sex and while I did too, no one was checking for the fat Black nerds unless it was a prank. And I saw everything as a prank. I was always getting pointed at, made fun of, stared at. Jesus, being exposed fucking sucks! So, no, I didn’t experiment. There was no one to fucking experiment with. 

“And it wasn’t like I could go ten feet from my mom without her up my ass about where I was going. Claiming she just didn’t want me to get snatched when all she really wanted was just to control me. To not let me end up like her. Young and pregnant,” you practically yelled, spewing way more vitriol than he expected.

He figured it was a sore spot for you by the way you grimaced, but he hadn’t been expecting…that. Again, he balled his fists thinking of every person that ever let you down. Every person that was supposed to uplift you, guide you, help you, all dropped the ball in teaching you about self love.

Every experience every kid was supposed to have was denied to you. Instead of being asked out with interest, with sincerity, boys treated it like a prank. He was wild in his youth, he wasn’t always nice to people, or he went through life like a little gremlin. But he liked to think he mellowed somewhat in high school. Treating everyone with respect. From the nerds to the jocks. He didn’t know what not trusting people’s words felt like. Like everything that someone said came laced with poisoned barbs ready to sting. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” you whispered. Your lip trembled but no tears fell down your face. 

Fuck, even now you were trying to hold everything in. Control a natural response to something painful. “When was the last time you cried?” Terry asked.

You stood up and snatched your purse and journal from the couch. “Session’s up, right?” You asked. You avoided looking at him as you rushed to the exit. The faux glass door clanged against the wall as you threw open the door and left, steps echoing on the linoleum flooring. 

He stared at the door as it lazily swung back and he wondered. And he pondered. 

Wheww, need more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1

Taglist: You guys, ya'll gon make me cry with this taglist! Thank you!

@planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris

@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocus @brattyfics @mermaidchansons

@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo

@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl

@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl

@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

woman crush wednesday pt 2 (previous part)

summary: you and paige finally go on the long awaited date

content warnings: none!

It had been three weeks since your first phone call with Paige and since then, it has become a nightly occurrence. Talking and giggling into the early hours until sleep eventually takes over. You have fallen asleep on FaceTime a few times too, waking in the morning to Paige silently getting ready for her day.

You both had busy schedules but they had finally aligned and Paige was coming into the city to see you for the first time. Even though you felt like you knew Paige decently well after hours of calls, you were still nervous. Meeting someone for the first time spiked your fight or flight. What if you wasn’t how Paige had imagined you? What if seeing you in real life made her feel differently?

You settled your nerves with a small glass of wine as you got yourself ready. It was a crisp autumnal evening in New York City and you both had decided on getting a coffee from your favourite place and walking around Central Park would be perfect for your first date.

You and Paige were similar in the sense, you were both really simple girls. You enjoyed being home and didn’t care for the lavish things in life. You were looking forward to just spending time with Paige, talking to her and being able to look in her eyes as she stood in front of you, rather than through a screen.

Paige was getting to your apartment at 5PM and it was almost that time so you applied a final layer of lip balm, a few spritz of your favourite perfume and readied yourself to leave.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, Paige was here.

Your stomach fluttered as you rode the elevator down, you took in a few deep breaths and checked your reflection in the mirror. You had kept your outfit simple and makeup to a minimum. Paige was used to seeing you on stage or red carpets, you wanted her to see the real you today.

The elevator opened and there she was, in all her glory. She looked even better in person if that was possible, she looked like a goddess through the FaceTime camera but the way her eyes shone and skin glistened while she was just metres away from you had you lost for words. Her hair was down and straight, tucked behind her ears and she was wearing khaki pants with matching trainers and a pink and brown shirt. Why were you already imagining yourself wearing it? It would hang on your body oversized and it would probably smell like her.

“Hello Y/N.” Paige breaks your daydream, a smile spreading on her face as you walk towards her.

“Hi Paige.” You say shyly and she opens her arms for a hug and you step into it so naturally any nerves you had vanish within seconds.

“You look gorgeous.” She complements as you pull apart and you feel your cheeks heat up even though she’s said that every time you’ve been on video call even when your half asleep with messy hair and in your pyjamas.

“Thank you. You look great. I’m not used to seeing you wear a shirt.” You joke as most of the time, Paige calls you post practice and she’s almost always in her sports bra.

“I can take this off but let’s get that coffee first.” She says cheekily and her hand falls to the small of your back as she leads you out of the apartment building.

You and Paige argue over who’s paying for your drinks as the barista watches you both grapple to reach the card reader.

“It was my suggestion. Let me pay.” You state.

“I’m taking you on a date. Let me pay.” Paige quips back.

“But you traveled into the city. Let me.”

“Y/N put the damn card away. I’m paying.” Her voice is assertive and dominant and her arm stretches over you to tap her card.

“Thank you.” You say as you collect the drink, “You’re welcome but never do that again. As long as you’re with me, everythings on me.”

“Paige-“

“No arguememts, gorgeous.”

Yes ma’am.

The walk to Central Park is quick and filled with lighthearted chatter, between you and Paige. She reaches out to touch you multiple times. Her hand grazing your cheek to move a piece of hair, a protective arm around your waist as you cross the road and each time you felt your skin tingle and then a sense of longing once the moment was over.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You say as you find a secluded bench to sit on together. You sit so close, your legs are touching and Paige places a hand on your thigh, “I am too. Sorry it told so long for me to figure out.”

“It’s OK, I know you’re busy. I am too. But what do they say? Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that.” The last bit comes out of your mouth without you realising.

“Your heart is fond of me?” Paige asks, the corners of her mouth curving up slightly and you feel a blush creeping onto your face.

“I didn’t- I don’t-“ You stutter out, unsure of how it would make Paige feel.

“No. Don’t backtrack. My heart is fond of you too. I wouldn’t spend every night speaking to you or I wouldn’t have drove three hours here if it wasn’t.”

“Really?” You ask, averting your gaze because it felt weird hearing that from someone. You weren’t a relationship girl, in fact you’d only ever been in one relationship and it was so far from perfect, you didn’t think people like Paige existed.

“Yes really, gorgeous.” Paige confirms, lifting your chin so you’re looking at her again.

“I thought maybe I was being too full on. I know people don’t like that.” You say, now looking into her eyes. Her blue, blue eyes.

“I’m not people. I’m Paige and you could never be too full on with me.”

“In that case…my heart is definitely fond of you.” You admit, now mirroring Paiges soft smile.

The air is charged as you sit looking into each others eyes, Paiges hand still firmly rested on your thigh. She glances down and your lips and you glance down at hers. Her tongue pokes out to run across them and your breathing hitches at the way they look, so plump and wet, slightly apart and you begin to lean in as she does the same.

Paiges hand leaves your thigh and finds your neck as your lips meet in a needy but gentle kiss. She pushes into it, her tongue slipping into your mouth and you moan at the sensation. You’ve thought about this moment, dreamed about it so many times but nothing could have prepared you for how it felt. Her fingers tangling into the back of your hair, her soft skin under your fingertips, her scent the only thing you can smell.

You’re both left red cheeked and slightly breathless and you can’t help but giggle at each other and as you do, the heavens open and rain begins to pour. You gasp at the feeling of water already seeping through your clothes and wetting your skin.

“Typical.” Paige laughs and she grabs your hand pulling you up from the bench and you both start running.

“Where are we going?” You ask trying your best to match Paiges strides.

The rain was heavy, already dripping down your face, blurring your vision and you kept a tight grip on Paiges hand hoping that she would lead the way.

“To find shelter…so I can kiss you again.” Paige breathes out and she looks to you, her hair so wet, it looks a few shades darker.

“We’re already drenched.” You say, her shirt is stuck to her skin, outlining her muscular physique and you can feel rain leaking into your shoes with every step you take.

Paige stops running but you can’t stop fast enough so you bump into her and she grabs your waist, balancing you, “You’re right. We are drenched so we might as well stay right here.” She says and she crashes her lips to yours again. It’s hungrier this time, her hand is firm on your waist as the rain batters down on you both, you grip onto her shirt, pulling her closer, wanting more, needing more.

You don’t care that you’re in the middle of Central Park, in the pouring rain. You care that you’re with Paige, finally and it’s better than you ever expected.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: hi i actually hate this 😖 i didn’t write for a few days while i was moving house and i feel like i’ve forgotten how to…

[shoresoftheshadowlands]

I'm a moderator for a popular game's (one of it's) most popular mods, and the number of times people ask whens X update / new content/ next thing' coming out my favorite response is

'When it's ready' or 'When it's done'. As if a dev or animator or any other kind of long term / takes a while project wouldn't update folks sometimes, as if tons of people don't already ask the same thing all damn day.

The thing (whatever the thing is) will be done when it is ready and the people/persons involved deem it to be finished and not a moment sooner. Constant asking only stresses people out. We need to relearn patience as a society and I am not kidding.

edit: I cannot even believe the timing of this comment

While I was writing this over here.

I keep getting multiple messages in a row about "When's the next Mystery Skulls video coming out" Can you please not? I've already answered this before and we have an open and unlocked patreon with monthly updates that get posted here as well.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

little things daddy!chan would do for you

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 opening doors - main doors, car doors, fuckin.. revolving doors! any door, he’s holding it open for you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and on the subject of car doors, seatbelts - one of my favorite things. when he’s opened the car door for you and made sure you’re comfortable, he reaches across to buckle you in himself. he has to make sure his princess is safe.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 touching you - any chance he gets, this man’s hands are on you. and i don’t mean in a sexual way. (tho there is plenty of that too) i mean.. holding your hand (or letting you hold his pinky), his hand on your thigh while he’s driving, his hand on the small of your back as you walk through a crowd, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as youre standing and waiting in line for coffee. he’s constantly touching you. it’s comforting for him but also, he knows it’s comforting for you to know that he is always right there.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 carrying things for you - this is kind of broad, but anything that needs carrying, he’s got it. oh you went to the store and got some things? he’s got all of the bags. even if you offer to help. he’s got it. is he struggling to carry everything up the stairs? yes. but you will not lift a finger. he knows you are more than capable of doing it yourself, but he wants to be the one to do it for you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paying for you - no matter how many times you tell him you can pay for yourself, that your feel bad when he constantly pays for you, he’s going to do it anyway. because you’re his baby and that’s what daddy’s do. it’s just another way for him to feel like he’s taking the best care of you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 making your appointments/ phone calls - maybe this is just my personal fantasy, but if you’re uncomfortable making phone calls, he’s got that for you. need to schedule a dentist appointment but you’re too scared to call? he’s got it. you’re feeling sick and need to call out of work? he’s got your boss’s number saved in his phone already. but he would do it in a way that doesn’t reveal that you’re too nervous to make the call yourself. he knows that can be embarrassing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 cycles! - if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle, he’s got that figured out. may even have an app on his phone that helps him track it. and when he knows that time is close, he’s ready. he’s got all your favorite snacks, your preferred hygiene products, and your favorite movie loaded up on the tv already.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 checking in - he’s a very very busy man. but that doesn’t keep him from checking in on you. just random ‘i love you’ or ‘i’m thinking of you’ texts throughout the day, texting you at meal times to remind you to reheat the food he prepared for you. calling when he has time just to tell you how much he misses you. but also just checking in on your feelings. “are you having a good day, princess?” “oh you’re feeling down? let daddy help.”

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listening! - always makes sure he’s listening to what you say. your voice is one of his favorite things. you always have his full attention. his phone is down, his eyes are on you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and speaking of his eyes being on you, that’s another thing! eyes on you at all times. if he absolutely has to leave your side, you’re always in his line of sight. and if he isn’t physically with you, your location is on and shared with him. this is just his way of comforting himself, knowing that you are safe and sound.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 activities - anything that makes you happy. he just wants to spend time with you. you want to lay on the floor and color in your coloring book? he loves that. you want to sit on his lap and watch while he plays video games? he loves having you close. you want him to paint your nails? he hopes you pick the pink color because it’s his favorite on you. anything your little heart desires.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 making sure you’re basic needs are met! - this one might not be considered a ‘little thing’ that he would do for you. because to me, this is a huge thing! but making sure you’re eating, making sure you’re getting enough rest, helping you wash your hair or shave your body. helping you out of bed and helping you to get dressed.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 constant reassurance - he knows how your brain works. so to combat that, he’s constantly telling you things like: “im here, im not going anywhere.” “you’re doing such a good job.” “im so proud of you.” “i love you so much.” lots of head pats and holding you as he sways back and forth, lots of soothing circles on your back and loving smiles sent your way.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

okay i should probably stop now. this has gotten longer than i intended lol here’s my masterlist if you’re interested in my other work, and here’s my kofi if you’re interested in sending me a tip. reblogging is a great way to support me also! thanks for reading :)

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[yanmuffins]

First warning, I'm stoned as 🦆 while writing this.

Okay, I can't stop thinking about your response to the DC vs Vampires were you added that Dick would look at a Vampire Reader and go, "Premade! Yes!"

Cause I'm just thinking of Reader being seen as not just a fledgling but an abandoned, newborn vampire. In Vampire Dick's mind, her sire a should have fought to take her. But also, let it be miscommunication and differences between two completely different universes vampire cultures. In the Vampire King's would, most fledglings have to stick to their sires and constantly take in the sires blood to form a permanent, unbreakable link. Which is why Dick was only personally making thralls from his friends and family he felt confident he could control. Other vampires were made by other vampires. Yes, you could just turn someone and leave them high and dry. But it leads to weaker vampires, usually.

So Vampire King Dick, who initially wanted to conquer a different world, sees his dead baby sister he wasn't able to save. She's already a vampire. But she's starving! And her sire left her to be weak and sickly.

Just deciding, "I trust my armies to lay waste to this world. I'm just going to grab this one," yoinks Reader, "and leave. Bye. Don't give my servants too much indigestion."

This also leads to trying to feed the Reader his own blood, to take over the weak bond of the sire. Even weirder if it gets compared to how a child has to nurse from their mother. So, in a way, he's trying to take the role of dad.

And it reignites his craving for a family. So he scrapes together a bunch of remains and has Raven revive his siblings. All kept in different cells and him turning them and telling them about finding Reader, all grown up in a different universe. This does lead to Dick complaining like a dad, though.

"Timmy keeps refusing to latch. I swear, that boy! He used to be so polite and well mannered, then Bruce ruined him. And yeah, I stomped in his skull. He can of course be mad about that. But to refuse to drink my blood because he doesn't want to bond to me even more than he already has is ridiculous! I have half a mind to mitten and muzzle him and seal him in a casket for a few weeks! It'd be a good way to put him in time out. No, I don't think it's excessive!"

"Jay Bird keeps gnawing at himself in stress, but I don't know if he's ready yet for his first teething toy. He still believes that humans are equal to vampires. I don't think he'd actually drink from any toy I got him. I don't want him to feel guilty over biting apart a a regular person, but I worry specifically giving him a pedo or a trafficker would lead him to rip them apart without even drinking from them or chewing them to get rid of stress! Hmm. Babies usually have frozen peaches, during teething. Do you think I could freeze some blood so he can chew it like ice? Or maybe make gummies to stress chew on?"

"Cass is actually drinking really well. Though, she does still attempt to rip out my veins. Isn't it so cute? I little fearsome fledgling! I had to use a pair of manacle on her ankles to try to secure her better. I didn't want to do so to her wrists cause that'd be like muzzling her, and she hasn't been that bad yet."

"Steph is concerning with how often she manages to find wood she can turn into a stake. She also manages to find rats all the time. She calls them Capri Suns for vampires. I think I'll need to get her checked for rabies. Or the bubonic plague."

"Duke's powers make it nearly impossible to let him off his Meta suppression collar and cuffs... Yes, I had to put three suppression devices on him. I'm so proud. He's so strong! But the ability is far too dangerous to be around any vampire. Let alone if he hurts himself!"

"Reader took a bit, but she latches so well! She's cute that she falls asleep almost immediately after biting me. I'm a little concerned that it's because she didn't have enough blood before. Especially since she is even drinking enough to be full for a regular vampire, let alone a fledgling. And she doesn't seem to have much energy either. Maybe a feeding tube will help?"

context &. context.

warning: spoilers for dc vs vampires.

this was a rollecoaster. i love this. don't even know what to add. it's been a while since i read dc vs vampires, so i don't remember the vampiric mechanics very well. but...

"in the Vampire King's world, most fledglings have to stick to their sires and constantly take in the sires blood to form a permanent, unbreakable link."

... this actually exists in v*tm mechanics and it's called a blood bond! if someone feeds on a vampire's blood three times within a certain period of time that forms a supernatural link that creates an intense feeling of love towards the vampire they are blood-bonded to. it can affect anyone, from mortal to vampire. but since vampire! reader and vampire king dick are from different universes, i'm not sure it would work either way.

you know what's funny? as awful as reader's sire is, it's not even their fault reader is starving in this scenario (and given that other ask, they might even be smuggling blood bags into the manor for her), it's because batfam is keeping her captive. and considering the circumstances, breaking into the wayne manor to kidnap the daughter of the most important man in the city is not the smartest of moves, but dick lowkey does have a point.

but feeding reader his blood, with no certainty that a blood bond would occur given their differences, is just a straight up bad move. reader would absolutely get stronger and escape. vampire king dick is even at risk of being diablerized by vampire! reader. but he can pamper and coo over her as much as he wants while she's still weak and regaining strenght.

i think taking the fatherly role dick assumes with his siblings and then just turning it into something twisted with vampire king dick is such an interesting idea, though. it could make an amazing fic but i've got my hands full at the moment. not expanding on that on this post because it'd be too long, but toreador! reader who has traversed vampire society, is acquainted with the social machinations of her clan and actually knows how to use her disciplines would be baffled by vampire king dick, and he would be baffled by her in return. he can't believe his little sister would grow into someone like that.

also

vampire king dick with his siblings: