#she laughed and said that’s fine if you care

[thecoochiefairy]

gamer girlz. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.6K word count. blackfem!reader, drabble, college football coded! onyankapon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon, dominant!onyankapon, kinda sorta makeup sex?, couch sex , black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, backshots, missionary, condomless sex, cumming on face, kissing, spanking, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ day 283737272 of liyah’s ovulation and faithful celibacy pact meaning she’s having the most nasty, egregious thoughts. please enjoy my black man fantasies. the links inspired this fic heavily, so enjoy those too.

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: onyankopon just wants to help you finish your game.

link. link. link. ony’s visuals.

YOUR FINGERS SHOULD'VE HURT AT THIS POINT. Swiftly moving from button to button, they tap the controls as you’re on another level of the game you desperately wanted to beat.

You had some time off of studying, and this is how you wanted to spend it. Your boyfriend was at football practice—although a part of you just wanted to be swarmed up in his arms, your attention span also had you elsewhere—this damn game. You enjoyed the older games, replaying the hardest version of Batman: Arkham Asylum, your boredom peaking your interest back in the game you’d had since childhood. 

You didn’t even register that the door had opened, or maybe you didn’t just care enough. You knew who it was. You eye him dropping his keys against the counter, black hoodie over his head, sharp jaw grunting lightly from his sore muscles, scowl along his face—definitely had to do with practice. 

You pause the game for a second, turning your face to the side, fuzzy socks along your feet, his large jersey slung along your body as you greet him, “Hell, baby. What they’ do to you?” 

“Coach was on dick today. Had me running laps cause other niggas couldn’t catch the ball and I got mad,” he huffs, taking his helmet and slamming it on the counter next to him. He massages the nape of his neck, sighing deeply to himself. 

“Now you know coach don’t like all that cussing on his field,” you sigh, “He knows you're good. That’s why he’s on your ass.” 

“Nah. He just annoying as fuck. Can’t expect me to do everything.”

He’s like a child, grumpy and pouty. His tall frame comes closer, wanting your attention in response to his rough day at practice. 

“How’s my baby?” he says in your ear, wrapping his large muscular arms around your waist and gently biting your shoulder. His broad frame shadows under his hoodie, tat against his face shining under the lights of your shared apartment, full lips moisturized—you’d never let him leave the house otherwise. 

You give him a soft laugh, rubbing your fingers over his durag as you say, “I’m fine. Had some time off studying, tryna’ beat this game. I meant what I said, Ony. He doesn’t just give you a hard time because he’s bored. You’re his star player, gotta make sure he ain’t treating you like everybody else.” 

“Don’t tell me you on yo’ nerdy stuff. C’mon. I’m sore,” he groans, his grip around your waist tightens and he pushes himself against you. 

“Oh, is it nerdy shit when you’ screaming on the game playing 2K with your friends? I was gonna offer a little massage. Now you’ve lost your entry to that,” you say, trying to push him off of you, reaching for the controller in between your lap. 

He doesn’t budge. He holds firmly onto you, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck to distract you. 

“Don’t be like that. I was kidding, you know I like that shit,” he huffs, his breath against your neck as he presses his lips on the sensitive part of your skin, “Forgot to tell you, I got an away game coming up in a few weeks. So I’ll be gone for like, a week.”

Your head comes down a bit to look directly at him, “What? You’re not coming with me to my parents? You know the holidays are coming up, Onyankopon. I told them you’d be there.” 

“You know imma’ just be sitting around hiding behind you,” he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath tickling you. 

It’s not that he’s shy— rather, he just doesn’t enjoy the unnecessary attention. 

“How ‘bout we do our own Christmas, before I go?” 

He’s nuzzling himself against your neck now, his hands roaming all along your body. You press his body away from yours, standing up as you become annoyed. 

You then say, “I wouldn’t be going up to my parents place if you didn’t agree to come with me in the first place,” going into the kitchen, searching through the freezer. 

He runs a hand over his face, seeing how instantly irritated you became. He knew having his support for the holidays meant a lot to you, and he might’ve waited on telling you about the going away game to lessen your disappointment. 

“Mama,” he calls, watching you from the sofa. 

You turn, raising an eyebrow as you say, “Oh, so now I’m Mama, you love hitting me with that shit when you know I’m mad.” 

“You know I don’t like going to those family functions, I swear that house always stinks cause yo’ auntie cooks that nasty ass fish. A week ain’t no big deal. Let’s just have our own thing here.” 

“So which one is it? You don’t wanna go or you got your football shit?” You narrow your eyes, pulling the ice pack from the freezer, arms crossed as you come back closer to him.

He knows better than to lie, especially to you. 

“They got some NFL scouts coming to this game,” he mutters, scratching his temple. I’m sorry. But I’m tryna’ go pro, you know that.”

“Mhm.” 

You hand him the ice pack, “Put it on your knee. I know it’s been sore lately.”

He raises an eyebrow, “You’ not mad?”

“Did I say I was mad? You’ want the ice pack or not?” 

He takes the ice pack, wincing once the coldness hits his knee. He knew you were gonna give him a scolding if he didn’t.

“You’ got a bad ass attitude right now.” 

“I wonder why, Onyankopon? If we had plans to go back to your parents house for the holidays and at the last minute I told you I have exams and that I just didn’t wanna go, you’d be irritated too.”  

“Damn, you gon’ be on my ass about this for the next three weeks?” 

He didn’t like it when you were like this, cause instead of being pissed you were more disappointed, which was somehow a lot worse to him.

“I’m gonna be gone for a week.” 

You scratch your nails in between the baby blue orchid claw-clip that holds your curls. You dismiss him, “You need to go shower.” 

“What, you ain’t tryna’ join me?” he murmurs, a smirk on his lips, “Quit being mad. I’m tryna love on you. Wanna put on The Isley Brothers and give you a rub down.” 

“You’re playing too much right now,” you deadpan, “Bye Onyankopon.” 

“What’ you mean bye?” he says, his smirk turning into a frown.

“I’m finna’ go finish studying,” you’re already walking back towards the bedroom, ending the conversation off as that. 

When you finally hear him smack his lips and make his way into the shower, you glance over your notes, deciding you weren’t gonna let him ruin your previous plans. You’re now back on the sofa, eyes set onto the screen, trying to defeat the computer generated opponent. 

You switch over to the sound of the bathroom opening, seeing him re-tying his durag back on, basketball shorts baggy and house shoes on his feet. His tattoos all along his face, neck, chest and arms always had your attention—but not as much attention as you usually gave him at this moment. You sprawled along the furniture, elbow deep into the couch's pillow as one leg laid straight out, while the other bent itself over the top of the couch. 

He doesn’t like how you’re paying no attention to him. As stupid as it sounds, he’s always got to have your eyes on him. They were pretty. 

“You’ still mad? You for real ain’t finna’ give me a massage?” 

“I’m good,” you swiftly respond, “Just playing my game. You can massage yourself.” 

“Why you’ gotta be like this?” 

He sits down next to you, his large frame takes up a lot of the space. The couch becomes smaller somehow. His eyes watch the game intently before he decides to get comfortable. Lying back down on the sofa, he lets his head rest in your lap. Even with you being irritated, you let him lay there. 

You continue going up level by level, your focus intently on the game. The little argument between you and Onyankopon irritated you to say the least, but you didn’t have the energy to completely push him away. It’s unfortunate he was persuasive. You notice out the corner of your eye that he lifts his head a little, the warmth between your legs along the back of his neck, and that’s when he sees that you’re wearing nothing under his jersey.  

He takes the time to admire you, legs lazily hung open, his eyes staring directly against your pussy, scenting of vanilla on your legs, freshly shaven. One of his large hands comes to rest on the back of your thick thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“What you’ got on?” he mutters.

“Had to wash clothes, didn’t have any underwear. That’s why I put on your jersey,” you tell him, eyes still not looking at his face, unable to see how his jaw clenched at the sight. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. In that moment his large hand rubs along the skin on your thigh, pushing the jersey up further.

“You look good as fuck in my shit,” He mumbles, a low rasp in his tone.

“Thank you,” you say in a softer tone, mainly because you’re distracted, buttons pressing harder against the controller. 

He can tell how focused you are—how your face scrunched up, the way your fingers move, even the way your thighs fall open on his head.

He’s getting impatient.

That’s when you feel him lean down, giving a gentle peck to your inner thigh. The feeling makes you tense a bit, but you still keep your eyes against the screen, huffing out a breath as your character is close to dying. This level was difficult. 

He’s giving small, light kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, taking small intervals to glance up to you as you keep your eyes against the screen. His hand moves higher up on your leg, slowly pushing the jersey up even more.

Your eyes go to him for a millisecond, seeing as his head is down, lips attached to your thighs, sucking ever so gently on your skin. You can almost feel a pressure building in your stomach, the slow ache of his movements almost purposeful, teasing you in a way. You press your glasses up against your face, huffing out a breath as you mutter, “Stupid ass level,” trying to come up with a reason as to why you sound so breathless. 

He grins as he’s laying there, hearing your breathing getting heavier. It’s obvious how hard you’re trying to focus on the game, but he’s working you up.

“You’ trying so hard, Mama,” He murmurs against your hot skin, his kisses trailing to the spot he knows is extra sensitive.

You shift your body, clearing your throat as you say, “Gotta restart,” adjusting your legs a bit, opening them up just a little more than before. 

He can tell how you’re slowly giving in, how you’re shifting your body around, legs opening just enough for him to move closer. He lets his free hand come to caress your stomach, rubbing against the skin under the fabric of the jersey. His lips are so close to you, his breath is hot against your skin. 

“Restart then,” He mutters, tongue now coming to flick out from his lips, gliding across your skin, hiding beneath the pillows of his lips as they begin sucking a dark red mark against you.

You narrow your eyes lightly as you restart the level you play, but your body is distracted by Onyankopon’s lips along it. You drag your teeth along your lip a bit, pressing your fingers harder into the controller, feeling his lips coming up higher. 

You could feel the arousal you had flooding in between the lips of your pussy, protecting your clit as it now begins to pool farther down, dampening the couch. His large fingers wrap along the outside of your thighs, using his thumbs to pull the skin on the inside apart, showing the dark pink of your pussy, squelching at his presence. Your body tenses even more as you feel his thumb meet with your clit, rubbing so softly against it, dropping his mouth down to press another kiss to your skin. The leg hiked up against the top of the sofa trembles a bit. 

“You’ winning?” You hear him murmur against your skin. 

You take a deep inhale, squeezing your fingers against the hooks of your controller as you softly reply, “No.”

He circles your clit with maddeningly light touches, barely grazing the swollen nub. At the same time, he’s still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth. 

"You’ getting distracted. Wet ass pussy," Onyankopon murmurs appreciatively, feeling the slick evidence of your arousal coating his finger.

Your chest heaves a bit at his tone, but you don’t let up. You keep your eyes on the screen, but you seem to be losing. In both games. 

He spreads you even wider as he leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your slick folds. He pulls his thumb back as he replaces it with his mouth, giving you an innocent kiss against your clit. His beard captures your arousal, your fingers shuddering as you hear him groan, “Ooh, fuck, Mama. You’ wet for real.”

Without warning, he seals his lips around your clit and sucks, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. He releases it with a lewd pop before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your slit, lapping up your dripping arousal. Your eyebrows deepen into a frown, lips trembling as you give one more press to your controller, before you take your hand and reach it to the back of his head, getting a clutch against the knot of his durag. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, clasping your mouth shut as you whimper for him.

He delves his tongue deeper between your opened folds, dragging it up and down, lapping up to create more secretion. His hands grip your thick thighs, spreading you obscenely wide as he eats you out like a starving man.

"Mmmm, this a nigga favorite fuckin’ meal," he rumbles, voice muffled by your flesh. He alternates between slurping you up and flicking rapidly, determined to make you fall apart. One hand slides up to grope your ass roughly, kneading the plush flesh.

“O—Ony…” you gasp, voice small and high pitched, fingers squeezing harder against his head, dropping the controller out of your other hand, the object hitting the ground with a thud. The music of the battle within the game becomes something you hear, but not as loud as his mouth gulping you down, heavy tongue sopping against your pussy, drenching his beard so much that he could drown in you.

“Pretty ass voice,” he encourages huskily, the vibrations from his words sending shockwaves through your core. He dips two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your weeping cunt, pumping them slowly as he continues his relentless assault on your clit with his tongue. The wet sounds of him feasting on your pussy fill the room, mixing obscenely with the forgotten video game noises.

His free hand roams your curves possessively, groping and squeezing every inch of exposed skin he can reach—your ass, your thighs, the underside of your breasts. You’re lost in a haze of pleasure.

You were always so sensitive to his touch, the pleasure that you received from him kept you so kidnapped that it was hard to be mad at him. You grind your clit along his mouth that waits to catch it, voice ineffective of composure as you struggle, “Gonna cum soon, Ony…” 

“Yeah?” He grunts, head knocking up and down, your eyes only able to watch as his lower face disappears in between your legs, glistening a coat against his beard, “Where you wanna cum?” 

“On your dick, baby…” you whine softly, rotating your hips gently to match his moments, “Please…”

"You wanna cum on your dick, Mama?” He coos against you, the sound reverberating through your core, you’re whimpering with an urgent nod, “Mhm,” before he can even finish his sentence. 

He pulls himself back, already tugging his tip from beneath his basketball shorts, taking off the material as your eyes follow the curve, the vein in his dick, heavy against the stretch of his large palm. Tattoos spread against his pelvic, scriptures and inspirational quotes that didn’t belong in his blasphemous moment.

"Turn around, put that ass in the air for me.“

Your legs feel a bit numb, bringing yourself up as you know exactly how he wants you. Raising your left leg along the arm of the couch, you lean your breast over the top as your face hides beneath your arm, right knee digging into the seat of it. He places his fingers along the side of your neck, other hand digging into your thigh thrown over the furniture. He doesn’t have to tell you to look at him—you always give him your eyes, feline as they blank beneath his control. Your body trembles as he slams his palm against your ass, “Arch more,” your body following suit, deepening the valley your silhouette creates. 

He grips your hip with bruising force, using the leverage to grind the swollen head of his dick teasingly along your soaked slit. Up and down, he rubs himself through your slick folds, coating his length in your essence. Your hips tense as you feel the weight of his tip stretching open your pussy, sinking in that it makes your abdomen cramp, aching in a pleasure that has your entire body tighten. Your eyes are beginning to roll back, digging your nails into the sofa as you keep your eyes on his, he looks mad at you, slamming his palm against your ass again as he grunts, “Keep that fuckin’ arch.” 

Your chest is filled with oxygen, holding your breath to cure the slight discomfort you feel, but it’s also an agonizing pleasure, feeling so full from him. He’s slowly dragging himself halfway out, rolling his hips back in and going even deeper, your mouth dropping open as your eyes flutter shut, turning your head back towards him as you whimper, “Fuck, baby. You’re deep…” 

Silence goes in between the both of you, savoring the rush of pleasure that clutches the air as he drags his first couple of thrusts, so slow it felt like time wasn’t even passing. The sedated actions almost feel better than if he sped up, his eyes locking down as he sees you painting his tip, creaming on him. 

“I’m in your shit, huh?” he talks to you, it’s almost tortuous as he hilts himself fully inside, his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit. Your walls clench around him like a vice, your head tilting back as you completely tense. You whimper, “Ungh,” attempting to push him back to relieve the stimulation, jumping as he gives you a bruising spank, deep voice aggressive as he says, “Uh-uh, don’t do that. You know I don’t do that running shit.” 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he starts up at a carnal pace. The wet squelch of your pussy being split open echoes obscenely in the room, mixing with your deep whines, nodding your head, gently dropping your hips against his abdomen to meet his strokes.

“Keep riding that dick, goood fuckin’ girl,” each thrust is punishing and deep, stirring up your insides. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely as he rails into you, chasing your pleasure to insanity.

You always try to keep up, but you never could. All your organs feel tossed around by him, so blinded in your erotic state, your mouth opens as you give long moans, deeply gasping each time you need to catch your breath. He brings you to a point of saying things you’d never thought would leave your lips, mouth parted as you groan, “Yes, yes, baby. Agh, fuck, Ony. Deeper.”

"You want this dick deeper?" He growls, accentuating his question with a thrust that has your eyes rolling back farther. His grip on your hips tightens, surely leaving finger-shaped bruises on your toffee skin as he sets a merciless pace.

He’s back at palming his hand brutally against your ass, rushing it up to come around the front of your mouth, resting his fingers there as he grunts, "Take this fucking dick then," yanking your head back.

The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his hips slapping against your clit, “Finna’ tear this fuckin’ pussy open.” 

His filthy words mix with the lewd sounds of your bodies coming together, filling the room, it has you groaning through his fingers. 

“Love you so much,  baby—“ this was a regular routine, the affection you give him as he’s hitting that spot that only he could find, whines plummeting from your mouth, eyes to the back of your head as you reach back and grab onto his wrist that holds your hip, moaning louder each time he rolls his hips back to meet the weight of your ass matching his rhythm.

“What happened to you being mad?” He questions, going slow as he tugs you back into his dick, the echo of your skin bouncing off each other like a drug induced round of applause. 

You shake your head, “Not mad at you, Onyyy,  love you so much….”

He chuckles darkly, low and rumbling in his chest as he leans over you, pressing his muscular torso against your back. His hot breath fans across the shell of your ear as he murmurs, "I know you do, Mama. I love you too.” 

One large hand slides up from your hip, reaching around to splay across your stomach as the other now tangles in your hair, tugging your head back. He rolls his hips in a slow, deep grind, stirring you up from the inside, your mouth releasing broken shouts, your face hot, pleasured tears wanting to stroke along your face. 

"Fuckin’ love you, princess. Pussy was made for me,” He gives another sharp thrust, grinding against your cervix. "You’ getting tight as fuck—You’ cumming, Mama?”

“I’m….” You gasp, defeated in your inability to speak, taking your hand and reaching back to hold his face closer to yours, hips trembling as you dangerously moan in a cracked tone “I’m cumming, baby. I’m cumming. I’m—agh,  c—cumming…”

His chuckle is dark with lust as you flutter and clench around him erratically. He grips you harder, using the leverage to pound into you relentlessly, chasing his own release.

"Good job, baby. Biggg fuckin’ girl. Cum on this dick. Fuckin' soak it," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. One hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he continues his brutal pace.

Your whole body tenses and shakes as your orgasm crashes over you, a loud cry tearing from your throat. Your pussy spasms almost violently around his thick shaft, gushing against him so much it pushes him out of you, trying to milk the sensation for all it’s worth. 

“I’m finna’ bust, baby,” he warns, groaning in your ear, “Come eat this dick up.”

Your body feels numb as you turn yourself towards him, immediately wrapping your lips along his tip, enveloping the taste of your own arousal within the walls of your mouth, sucking him in to reach the heavens of your throat. He clasps your hair within his palm, bobbing yourself back and forth as you reach down, rubbing your clit as you still feel your orgasm rushing through your body. You moan around him, giving him those cat eyes, fluttering your dark extensions as you swirl your tongue against his tip, begging for a reaction.

He throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan as your warm mouth engulfs him. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your movements as he starts to thrust shallowly into your throat.

“Shit—just like that. Eating that dick up good as fuckk," he pants, his abs flexing with each snap of his hips. The sight of you—eyes fluttering, cheeks hollowed, one hand buried between your thighs—it’s almost too much.

He pulls your mouth off him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening tip. With another smack to your ass, he flips you onto your back, settling between your spread legs. 

"I wanna see your face when I nut in this pretty ass pussy." 

He lines himself up and sinks back in with one smooth thrust, bottoming out instantly, clutching your throat, holding you down as your back arches up, clawing into his back at the visceral sensitivity.

He sets a hard, fast pace, the wet sounds of your joining filling the room. His intense gaze locks with yours, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in every expression that crosses your face.

"That's it, baby. Gonna fill this pussy up real good," he grunts as you whimper with his talking, “Ba-by,” angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you. One hand slides under your thigh, pushing your leg up and back to change the angle, allowing him to go even deeper.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continues to pound into you. His tongue dominates your mouth, swallowing your moans and cries of pleasure. Breaking the kiss, he buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking dark marks into your skin as he chases his release.

"Fuckk, finna’ cum soon. You want it in you, baby?”

“On my face baby, you say it’s pretty there,” you whimper, deepening your nails in his back, “Mmmph, c’mon, Ony. Please…” 

A grin spreads across his face at your pleas. Grabbing his throbbing tip, he positions himself at your face, smearing the leaking pre-cum across your cheek. He’s moaning, stroking himself rapidly, aiming his tip at your parted lips. His free hand grips your chin firmly, keeping you in place as his strokes become erratic. He then cums, painting your face—across your cheeks, over your lips, some even landing in your waiting mouth.

You stick your tongue out, running your tongue over your lips that darken in color, bruised as you dig your teeth into them with a sultry giggle. Heavy breathing fills the room as you keep your eyes up at him. 

He steps back as he says, “Hollon, baby,” going into the bathroom as he finds a towel, rubbing it along your face to clean you up. He then leans down, pulling you into a kiss as he grunts, “Gimme’ your mouth. I love you, Mama. I’m sorry.” 

You give him a kiss, holding his face in your hands, running your tongues together sloppily, passion filling your entire body from the previous actions. 

You say, “It’s okay. You’ want your massage now?”

He pulls his mouth back a bit, eyeing you before he chuckles. It makes you pout, “What’s funny?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he helps you stand, “Nothin’ Mama. Just thinkin' 'bout how quick you forgave me after I tore your ass up."

You roll your eyes, “I can always change my mind.” 

He runs a hand down your side, squeezing your hip possessively. "Chill out. I want that massage. You know I'm always ready for your magical hands."

He stretches languidly, his muscles rippling beneath his tattoos as he leads you towards the bedroom, “ And don’t be all stingy with the lotion. Do that lil’ thing I like if you feeling extra generous.” 

“You’ getting beside yourself. Do you need that?”

He turns, “Do you?”

You scrunch up your nose, “No. I want a massage next!”

“Exactly. C’mon, get that ass on the bed.”

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jealous? who, me?

theodore nott x reader where you meet his friends for the first time and daphne is definitely not in your good books

↬ word count : 931 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : secondhand embarrassment (for daphne) ⭑.ᐟ

↬ author's note : i loved this too much (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way. This was Theodore’s night—his friends, his circle, his world. You’d come to the party with the intention of being supportive and charming, maybe even making a good impression.

Until Daphne Greengrass entered the picture.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Effortlessly gorgeous with her sleek blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a laugh that danced through the room like wind chimes. And the worst part? She knew Theodore—knew him well.

You stood beside Theodore, nursing your wine glass and trying to maintain a polite smile as Daphne monopolized the conversation. Her hand brushed his arm—again—and she tossed her hair back with an almost rehearsed air of effortlessness.

Theodore, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly to hear her better, his lips twitching at something she said. You weren’t entirely sure what was so funny, but you were sure it wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with dry amusement.

Theodore’s brow quirked, but before he could speak, Daphne excused herself. “Excuse me for a second, I need to grab a drink,” she said, flashing you a quick glance, one you could only describe as calculating.

Theodore turned to you as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. “Nothing, Tesoro. Just enjoying the show.”

One brow arched as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Should I be worried?”

You took a deliberate sip of your wine, eyes flickering toward the direction Daphne had gone. “Not at all. I think you’re the one being thoroughly entertained.”

Theodore’s lips twitched again, this time with a barely concealed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your smile sharp enough to cut.

His brow quirked, but before he could say something, Daphne made her way over, holding two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Theodore, completely ignoring you.

“Thought you might need a refill,” she said, her tone light and lilting. “We wouldn’t want you getting parched, would we?”

You raised your own glass slightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Daphne. I’m keeping him hydrated just fine.”

Daphne’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, tilting your head with faux innocence. “I like to take care of my things.”

Theodore’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel the low rumble of a laugh in his chest, though he didn’t let it escape. Instead, he pressed his lips to your temple in what was meant to be a calming gesture but only fueled your sass.

“So,” Daphne began, clearly trying to redirect. “Theo was just telling me about the time we went to Monaco together. What a trip, right?”

“Monaco?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How quaint. Theo and I were just talking about planning something grander. Italy, maybe. You know, somewhere with a bit more... romance.”

Daphne blinked, clearly thrown off. “Italy’s nice. I’ve been to Tuscany a few times.”

“Of course you have,” you replied, swirling your wine lazily. “So cultured of you.”

Theodore cleared his throat, his grip on your waist now firmly grounding. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” you whispered back, your tone dripping with faux sweetness. “She started it.”

“I heard that,” Daphne said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, good,” you said, flashing her a grin. “I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

Theodore’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. “Daphne, why don’t you tell me about that new project you mentioned earlier?” he asked, his voice steady despite his amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Daphne launched into an explanation about some fashion venture she was working on, her hands gesturing animatedly. You nodded along, your expression politely disinterested, until she said something you couldn’t resist.

“It’s been such a challenge finding the right balance between trendy and timeless, you know?” Daphne said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you replied airily. “I just wear whatever Theo likes to take off.”

Daphne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with her dress, and Theodore’s hand on your waist flexed as he pulled you even closer.

“Cara mia,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warning. “Behave.”

“I’m behaving,” you said innocently, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t I, Daphne?”

Daphne set her champagne down on a nearby table, her smile now more brittle than bright. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up, Theo,” she said, barely sparing you a glance. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as she walked away, Theodore let out a quiet laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“She’s impossible,” you shot back.

“She’s harmless.”

“She’s obnoxious.”

He straightened, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked at you. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Fine,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “Maybe I didn’t love the way she looked at you.”

“Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “She could look at me all she wants. I’m still going home with you.”

You huffed, but the way his hand slid up your back and the warmth in his eyes softened your irritation.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I find you endlessly entertaining,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you.

[psychoticfemmm]

drunk on you

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: After a wild night of partying, JJ takes care of his drunk girlfriend, enduring her chaotic antics and relentless demands for kisses while the Pogues tease him endlessly.

The music thumped loudly in the background as JJ Maybank maneuvered his way through the crowded beach party, your drunken laughter echoing in his ears. You were practically draped over his shoulder like a giggling mess, your hand clutching the strap of his shirt while your other hand lazily waved at everyone passing by.

“JJ! I’m having so much fun!” you slurred, your face lighting up as you spotted him glancing down at you. “But I need—wait for it—another kiss!”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need another kiss, princess. You need water. And maybe a nap.”

You pouted dramatically, squirming in his grasp. “Nooo. JJ, you’re being so mean. Just one!”

He stopped for a second, setting you down on your feet so you could look at him with wide, pleading eyes. “What did I just say? Water first, then maybe kisses,” he teased, a crooked grin on his face.

You leaned closer, practically pressing your forehead against his chest as you whined, “But you’re my boyfriend! It’s your job to kiss me whenever I ask.”

“You’re impossible,” JJ said with a sigh, but the fondness in his voice gave him away.

From a few feet away, Sarah, John B, Pope, and Kiara watched the scene unfold, laughing amongst themselves.

“She’s relentless,” Pope said, shaking his head in disbelief. “JJ looks like he’s babysitting.”

“Hey, at least she’s not crying,” Sarah chimed in, smirking. “That’s progress.”

“She’s definitely about to though,” Kiara added, watching as you flung yourself dramatically against JJ’s chest, shouting something about him being “the worst boyfriend ever” for withholding kisses.

“Alright, that’s it,” JJ declared, bending down and effortlessly scooping you into his arms bridal-style, just like in the picture. “I’m cutting you off. You’re done.”

You gasped, throwing your head back in faux outrage as your legs dangled over his arms. “You’re kidnapping me! Someone stop him!”

“No one’s stopping me, sweetheart,” JJ said with a laugh. “You’re out of control.”

The group burst into laughter, John B pulling out his phone to record the whole scene.

“JJ, this is gold,” John B said between laughs. “I can’t wait to show her this tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare!” you shouted, suddenly animated, though your words were slurred. “John B Routledge, I swear, if you—JJ, make him stop!”

JJ rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on you. “You think I can do everything, huh? I’m already carrying your drunk ass.”

“Because you love me,” you replied with a smug grin, poking his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” JJ muttered, though his smile betrayed him.

When you finally made it back to the house, JJ gently set you down on the couch. You flopped over dramatically, your arm draped over your face.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning,” he said, handing you a bottle of water.

“I’m going to hate you in the morning,” you quipped, though your smile said otherwise.

JJ rolled his eyes, plopping down beside you. “Fine. One kiss. Just one.”

You immediately perked up, your face lighting up as you crawled onto his lap and kissed him. It was a bit clumsy and overly enthusiastic, but JJ couldn’t help but laugh into it, pulling you closer.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he said, pulling back before you could start again. “We’re in front of the Pogues, for crying out loud.”

Sure enough, Sarah, Kiara, and the rest of the group were standing in the doorway, watching with grins and smug expressions.

“Aw, JJ,” Sarah teased. “You’re such a softie.”

“Shut it, Sarah,” JJ shot back, his cheeks red.

“I think it’s cute,” Kiara said, nudging Pope.

Pope smirked. “You mean hilarious.”

You, however, were too busy giggling in JJ’s arms to care. And despite the teasing and chaos around him, JJ couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, you were his chaos—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You groaned as sunlight streamed through the window, making you squint against the bright rays. Your head pounded, and your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“What the hell…” you muttered, shielding your eyes as you slowly sat up.

From the doorway, JJ leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, his tone entirely too cheerful.

You glared at him. “Why are you so loud?”

“Not my fault you had a little too much fun last night,” he teased, walking over and plopping down on the bed beside you.

You groaned, dropping back against the pillows. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely reminding you. Do you want to hear about how you demanded ‘one more kiss’ like, a hundred times? Or how you tried to fight John B because he wouldn’t stop filming you?”

Your eyes shot open, and you turned to him with horror. “I did not.”

“Oh, you did,” JJ said with a laugh. “And you called me, and I quote, ‘the worst boyfriend ever’ because I wouldn’t kiss you in the middle of the party.”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “I’m never drinking again.”

JJ leaned down, brushing his lips against your temple. “Don’t worry. I think it was adorable. Drunk you is my favorite.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he said with a grin. “But don’t worry, princess. I’m here to take care of you.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Because at the end of the day, JJ always had your back—whether you were sober or not.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

since you guys loved the last JJ fic𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

send requests! ⋆˚✿˖°

[castdust]

big baby.

✩ pairing : daniela avanzini x 7th-member!reader

✩ about : Y/N teaching Daniela how to ice skate

✩ genre : fluff

✩ warning: none

✩ a/n : this is kinda based on a true story :p | 975 words

♫ playing : santa doesn’t know you like i do by sabrina carpenter

It was the first week of Katseye’s Christmas break and the girls had been planning and preparing for their upcoming trip back to their hometowns except for Y/N and Daniela. The two of them had already visited their families earlier of the week.

So it was just going to be the two of them inside the dorm room, but luckily Y/N already had plans for them so that they wouldn’t be that bored for the upcoming holiday.

Some activities may Daniela not like, just like they’re about to be doing now.

The rink was alive with the sounds of laughter, the scrape of blades against ice, and the occasional thud of someone losing their balance. Daniela clutched Y/N’s arm tightly as they moved, her knees wobbling riskily.

“I swear, Y/N, if you let me fall, I will haunt you,” she muttered, half-joking but with genuine panic in her voice.

Y/N laughed, her voice warm and teasing. “Relax, Dani. I’ve got you. Trust me.”

Daniela shot her a look. “That’s what you said five minutes ago, and I nearly face-planted.”

“You didn’t, though,” Y/N said with a grin. “Because I caught you. Always do.”

That shut Daniela up—though it wasn’t out of trust. It was the way Y/N said it, with this quiet confidence that sent a strange flutter through her chest.

After a few more shaky laps around the rink, Daniela began to relax slightly. “Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad,” she admitted, a smile tugging at her lips.

“See? Told you,” Y/N said proudly, skating backward in front of her like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Show-off,” Daniela muttered, but there was no heat in it.

Feeling emboldened, Y/N grinned mischievously. “Alright, you’re ready for the advanced stuff. Hop on my back.”

Daniela froze. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Y/N asked, turning and kneeling slightly.

“Yes,” Daniela said flatly, but Y/N just wiggled her eyebrows in response.

With a reluctant sigh, Daniela carefully climbed onto Y/N’s back, her arms wrapping around Y/N’s shoulders. “If you drop me, Y/N…”

“You’ve already threatened to haunt me once tonight,” Y/N said, laughing. “I get it, Dani. I’ve got you.”

They glided across the ice, Y/N surprisingly steady even with Daniela clinging to her. For a moment, it was perfect—Y/N’s laughter filling the air, Daniela’s nervous giggles mixing in.

But then, it happened.

Daniela shifted slightly, trying to adjust her grip. It threw off their balance, and Y/N’s skate caught a rough patch of ice. The world tilted, and in the next instant, both of them were tumbling down.

Y/N twisted instinctively, her arms wrapping around Daniela as they hit the ice.

“Oof!” Daniela landed softly against Y/N’s chest, her heart racing. “Are you okay?!”

Y/N winced, her face scrunching up in pain. “Yeah, yeah. Just… my arm.”

Daniela scrambled to her feet, panic flickering in her eyes. “Oh my God, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I—”

“Relax, Dani,” Y/N said through gritted teeth, cradling her arm. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine!” Daniela shot back, kneeling beside her. “Come on, let’s get you off the ice.”

Once they were seated on a nearby bench, Daniela inspected Y/N’s arm with the intensity of a medic on a battlefield. “You’re not bleeding, but I think you might’ve sprained it.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Y/N said, though the way she winced as Daniela gently prodded her arm suggested otherwise.

“You’re such a liar,” Daniela muttered. She grabbed a nearby towel, wrapping it around Y/N’s arm for makeshift support.

Y/N groaned. “This is unnecessary.”

Daniela shot her a glare. “You caught me when I fell. You hurt your arm because of me. The least I can do is take care of you.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the softness in Daniela’s voice. She looked down, her cheeks tinting pink. “It’s not your fault, Dani. I wanted to catch you. I’d do it again.”

Daniela paused, her hands stilling. There was something in the way Y/N said it—so genuine, so vulnerable.

“Y/N…”

“Don’t,” Y/N interrupted, her tone lighter now, though her ears were bright red. “If you’re about to get all sappy on me, I’ll start charging for lessons.”

Daniela rolled her eyes, the moment broken but her chest still warm. “You’re the worst,” she said, but the words were soft, almost affectionate.

As she adjusted the makeshift sling around Y/N’s arm, Y/N let out a dramatic whimper.

“Oh, come on,” Daniela said, exasperated. “It’s not that bad.”

“It hurts!” Y/N protested, pouting.

“You are such a big baby,” Daniela said, laughing despite herself.

“Excuse me, I saved your life!”

“You saved me from a mild tumble,” Daniela corrected, shaking her head. “And now you’re acting like you broke your arm.”

Y/N gave her a pointed look. “It feels broken.”

Daniela smirked, leaning closer. “Then maybe I should just leave you here to defend for yourself, huh?”

“Rude,” Y/N muttered, though her lips quirked up in a smile.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the teasing fading into something quieter, something that made Daniela’s heart race all over again.

“Thanks,” Y/N said softly, her gaze steady. “For taking care of me.”

Daniela felt her cheeks heat up. She looked away, muttering, “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta deal with you.”

Y/N chuckled, but the sound was warm, almost tender.

As they left the rink that night, Y/N still cradling her arm and Daniela still scolding her for being dramatic, the air between them felt different. Lighter, but also heavier—like something unspoken had passed between them.

And maybe, just maybe, Daniela didn’t mind falling after all.

[best-seungkwality]

breakfast for two (romantically!)

pairing: guitarist!band member!ellie williams x brother of band member! soft personality!female!reader

summary: ellie knew there were lines she wasn’t supposed to cross. but the way you blushed when she called you ‘babygirl’ made her want to toe every single one.

contains/warnings: college!au, you have a brother named harold, subtle but unspecific mention of trauma, suggestive towards the end

word count: 2.3k

author's yap notes: sue me i loved the k-drama kingdom bye. and yes here i am again with ellie williams IDK guys she's just hot and inspires me to write i just Have to take advantage of this. i'd write about my kpop boys but ,, i'm very wlw-coded the bisexual in me is not bisexualing.

would like to give credits for the dividers i think they're gna be permanent lmao: © saradika, magnusthemes here in tumblr!

'god, i'm such a kid,' ellie thought to herself as she fixed the crinkle in her flannel shirt. as usual, she felt a bit conscious of her appearance whenever she went to the house of her bandmate to practice for their upcoming gigs.

with one heavy breath, she brought her hands up and knocked gently on the door. it was really unlike her– she could care less about stupid harold's door, but she didn't.

once it opened to reveal his younger sister, all thoughts were wiped clean from her mind. suddenly, you were all she could think about, from how cute you looked in your pajamas, to how those fuzzy house slippers fit your soft and caring personality.

"hi, ellie," you greeted sweetly, and god, could she just melt right then and there. she wouldn't mind going to harold's every weekend if she could always have this kind of welcome.

"hey, doll," she greeted back, ruffling your already bad bedhair, earning a whine from you. "harry there?"

you nodded and let her in, immediately going in for a hug. if it were anyone else, she would've punched the living lights out of them for invading her personal space, but this was you. you could cozy up to her as much as you (and she) wanted.

"you should go down now, he'll be there in a bit, just changing clothes."

she put an arm around your shoulders and leaned her head onto yours. "i can spare a few minutes for my favorite girl."

"and if you don't take your arms off her, i'll spare a few minutes to body slam you on the ground."

ellie raised her hands and chuckled at your overprotective brother, who was rushing down and suddenly pushing her to the direction of the basement and away from you.

"call you later, princess!" ellie hollered playfully, getting a 'sure thing, baby!' in return, much to your brother's annoyance.

harry started with his usual monologue whenever he caught her flirting with you, be it in their home or school. he always went on about how you were his most precious baby sister who deserved everything nice the world could offer, and that you were off-limits until you graduated because your family only wanted the best for your future. he even said his parents could throw him in a ditch somewhere if it meant you achieved your dreams.

ellie raised an eyebrow at him, feeling that she was never going to completely get used to this kind of brotherly side of harold. she inched away from him and went to her spot, saying, "chill out, dude. one more sentence, and i'm gonna think you have a sis complex or something.."

harry's jaw dropped in disbelief. "how dare you, ellie," he whined, throwing an empty can of soda at her, to which she just laughed. he scoffed then turned serious, "you all know how she got to where she is now, right? i just wanna make sure..."

"yeah, totally, i get you, har," she cut him off, not wanting to make him explain any more. she knows it was hard to talk about the traumatic event his sister went through and his family had to overcome together.

"ellie's just being ellie, but you know we all care about y/n. don't worry, har," emma quipped from the corner as she was fine tuning her own instrument.

"yeah relax," she told him, "i'm just happy to be around her. i like the influence she has on me. i'd take care of her the way i want to, but i won't cross the line without your go signal, harry." she showed him a thumbs up, which he returned.

harold smiled and thanked his bandmates, and ellie couldn't help but feel warm. she had a found another family in them, and she was beyond grateful. not many people her age have the bonds that their little band shared with one another. she was thankful that some people actually accepted her for who she was and treated her the same way they would treat their own close family members. joel was the only one she had at first, but because of them, her world expanded and became even better.

with that, she decided to let the matter go first and stop giving their poor leader a headache. her feelings for his most precious sister could be dealt with some other time, preferrable when everyone's less stressed about it.

"ellie?" you answered the door in surprise, looking at your friend with curious eyes. "what are you doing here?"

ellie cocked her head to the side in confusion. "practice, doll. what do you mean?"

you stepped aside and opened the door, letting her in that morning. she ruffled your hair as always and went in, plopping down on one of the chairs in the living room comfortably. it was her second home after all-- no one would contest that.

"i know, but didn't you get harry's text?" ellie's eyebrows furrowed, bringing her cellphone out to check. "he said practice would start later evening. he and lance had to rush to uni for a report," you told her, sitting on the other couch near her seat.

ellie scrolled through her messages and didn't see a notification, which was odd because harry never missed messaging reminders, especially if they were about their schedules. he respected their time way too much to do that. it must've been a mistake-- that, or he was messing with her, waking her up that early for no reason.

she mumbled a few profanities, swearing to get back at him, before putting her phone aside and slouching on the chair. "well, i guess i'll spend the day here. got nothin' else to do anyway," she said, folding her arms behind her head, hoping your eyes would at least linger a bit on her body. and they do.

she smirked a little when you abruptly looked away and turned the television on, showing Kingdom on the streaming app. "mi casa su casa, els."

els. she was only ever gonna like that nickname if you say it.

"have you eaten, babygirl?" she stood up, scrutinizing your face for any indication that you were affected by the pet name. she did a little fist pump in her mind when she saw the blush on your cheeks deepen in a redder shade. "can i cook for us?"

you cleared your throat and waved your hand, pretending to be nonchalant. "our kitchen is your kitchen. and you know what i like already, so pleasee," you spoke, lying down on the couch without looking at her.

ellie smiled dipped down, coming face to face with you and your adorable blush. "me, right?"

she laughed when you pushed her face away, complaining that the two of you were too close and she should go ahead and cook because she was starving. ellie affirmed and let her know their food would be ready in several minutes, obliging her princess who doesn't know she's her princess yet.

she got in the kitchen, cleaned her hand and the cooking wares she was going to use, and decided to just go for a typical omelette with bacon and sausages. kid ellie would always say that she would be caught dead first before ever cooking for a man, and she made sense because the only person she would cook for was her girlfriend who wasn't her girlfriend yet.

when the meal was almost done, she peeked inside and saw that you already set up your dining table for the two of you, meaning there really was no one around.

"y/n, babe, food's done," ellie called, and you were there to assist her in no time, preparing all the food in their respective plates. you two brought it over the table, and immediately chowed down on the food as if you weren't being fed by your parents and brother.

ellie looked at you fondly as you chewed on your food carefully, wanting to avoid any incident that might humiliate you somehow. she was just glad you were eating comfortably compared to back then when it was harder. she would cook and cook for eternity if it meant you would have the smile you had on yours face right now forever as well.

"love your cooking," you said in-between bites, scarfing down your food.

"careful. harry or your mom might hear and cry," she joked before eating her food herself.

you chuckled and placed your utensils down once you finished everything. it surprised ellie a bit, but it made her happy more than anything else. she was just waiting for you to wife her up.

"el," you called, looking down at your lap.

she stopped eating for a while, and took your hand, worried at the sudden change of mood. you seemed anxious, playing with your fingers like that again. ellie ran her thumb over your knuckles, asking, "what's wrong?"

you pursed your lips before shaking your head. "nothing. maybe we can talk about it later."

"sure, let me just finish this quick."

"no, take your time," you insisted, giving her a small smile which tugged at her heartstrings, as cheesy as that sounded. "meet me in my room when you're done, okay? don't rush, and just leave the plates there. i'll clean them up later."

ellie nodded in agreement and watched you go up to the second floor and disappear into your bedroom before going back to eating. it made her anxious too, wondering if harold told you anything about yesterday and asked you to stay away from her. that was why even if you told her not to rush her breakfast, she still did, being unable to take the suspense.

she left the dining room and quickly raced up the stairs, turning to the right at the top to go to your familiar bedroom. she knocked twice then went in, and saw you sitting by your bed and looking out the open window.

ellie's eyebrow's bunched up in worry, taking the seat next to you and holding your hand gently to let you know she was there no matter what. you turned to look at her and sent her a small 'hi.'

"hi, doll, what's wrong?" she asked, cutting to the main point.

you smiled a little. "it's nothing. i've just been deep in thought."

the girl frowned and brought your head onto her shoulder. "it's not nothing if it's making you think that deeply. c'mon, you can tell me. is anything hurting?" she asked, running her fingers through your hair.

"i- i'm scared of asking you," you admitted, looking down to avoid her gaze.

she decided not to force eye contact yet. "about what? i promise i'll respond gently. when have i not been gentle with you, doll?"

thankfully, you were the one to look up at her first, and she gave you a reassuring smile. "c'mon, n/n. it's just me, no need to be scared."

panic settled in once she had seen the tears pooling in your eyes. she asked what was wrong again frantically, bringing your face into the crook of her neck to allow you to cry to her. you let out a few sobs until you started fully crying, and then you managed to calm down. ellie was not good at comforting, so she was kind of relieved you were the type who didn't need many words to feel someone was there trying to make you feel better.

"c'mon, babe, what's wrong?" ellie coaxed, wiping the tears off your face.

"that's what's wrong.." you murmured, looking down.

her mouth hung slightly open, truthfully not understanding what you meant. you sighed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it close to you.

"you call me 'babe' or 'babygirl' and i give stupid romantic meanings to them and i just... what if you'll actually never see me as someone's and your little sister? i'm gonna be stuck with these feelings on my own, and i won't get over you, and i don't even know..." you said quickly, as if this was the only time you had let these thoughts out into the world.

ellie, on the other hand, couldn't be any more overjoyed than she was at the moment, but she had to keep her calm first because you were emotional, and she didn't want to overwhelm you much more than you already were.

instead, she grabbed one of your hands, and her other went to cup your face gently so that you two could look at each other deeply. she let out a little chuckle before speaking, "i have never looked at you as just a little sister. if you just knew how head over heels i was for you the moment harry introduced us," she said with a large grin. "i've got to be insane if i don't see you as a woman i wanna be with."

your lower lips trembled. "really?"

ellie laughed and stood up, gathering you in her hold and spinning you around, garnering laughter from you as well.

"yes, really! you're the only i would ever let in my personal space, clueless girl!"

the girl fell on your bed with you on top of her, and she smiled lovingly up at you, giving you a quick peck on the lips. "i've always wanted to do that."

to her surprise, you brought your lips together, kissing each other to make up for the years that the two of you could only hug and smile at each other. ellie sat up and flipped the two of you so that you would be underneath her, caged in her arms. she let go of your lips and went down to your neck, trailing downwards.

the two of you could feel your breaths become deeper, with your eyes darkening with need.

"you hungry?" you asked with a small voice.

ellie smirked. "famished."

oh well, harry's blessing was mattered less now that you made the first move.

[hookhausenschips]

The Edge of Defiance

Chapter 6 of The Game Of Seduction

Navigation

Summary: In this chapter, Y/N grows restless in the quiet monotony of recovery at Lando's condo, feeling trapped by her circumstances and eager to regain her autonomy. Despite Lando's protective objections and concerns about her physical readiness and the condition of her apartment, Y/N firmly asserts her independence, leading to a tense confrontation that underscores their conflicting perspectives and the unspoken complexities of their relationship. Their argument is laced with unresolved tension, past trauma, and Y/N’s determination to reclaim control over her life, even as Lando’s care reveals deeper layers of concern and possibly unacknowledged feelings.

WC: 4.9k

Warnings: Mafia Dealings, Emotional Confrontation, References to Violence or Trauma, Injury/Recovery, Conflict in Relationships

Taglist

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

It had been nearly a week since the fight with Malik, and the tension in Lando’s condo had finally begun to ease. Y/N was healing, her injuries no longer the sharp reminders they had been but now dull aches she could tolerate.  

The days had fallen into a quiet rhythm: meals shared in silence, brief moments of conversation, and the occasional sharp glance from Lando when she pushed herself too hard.  

But Y/N wasn’t built for stillness, and she could feel the walls closing in on her.  

Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, absently picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her hoodie. Across the room, Lando was leaning against the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on her like he was waiting for her to drop some kind of bombshell.  

“I’m going back to my apartment,” Y/N said abruptly, breaking the silence.  

Lando’s brow furrowed, his posture stiffening. “Excuse me?”  

“You heard me,” she replied, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “I’ve been here long enough. It’s time to go back to my own place.”  

He crossed his arms, his expression darkening. “You’re not ready for that.”  

Y/N let out a sharp laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Ready? I didn’t realize I needed permission to live in my own damn apartment.”  

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Lando said, his voice dropping. “You’re still recovering, and your place is barely livable. What’s the rush?”  

“The rush,” Y/N said, standing now, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “is that I have my own place. And in case you forgot, I’m not dating you, I haven’t moved in here, and I don’t intend to. This has been... cozy, but I’ve got my own space, and I want it back.”  

--- 

She had a way of making every logical argument sound ridiculous, and it drove me insane.  

“This isn’t about you staying here,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s about making sure you’re safe. You’re still hurt, Y/N. And your apartment isn’t exactly secure.”  

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag from the floor. “I appreciate the concern, Norris, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it long before you showed up.”  

Her words stung more than I cared to admit. “You think this is about me wanting to control you?”  

She shot me a pointed look. “You’re blocking the door, aren’t you?”  

I sighed, stepping aside reluctantly. “Fine. Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when you realize this is a mistake.”  

--- 

The ride to Y/N’s apartment was tense, neither of them saying much. Lando drove, his jaw tight as he navigated the city streets. Y/N stared out the window, her fingers tapping against her thigh in an erratic rhythm.  

When they arrived, the building looked the same as always, but Y/N’s stomach twisted as she stepped out of the car.  

Lando followed her to the door, his presence a quiet but heavy reminder of their earlier argument.  

“You don’t have to do this,” he said as she unlocked the door.  

“I know,” she replied without looking back. “But I want to.”  

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.  

--- 

The air inside was heavy, stale, and full of memories I didn’t want to deal with yet.  

The living room was a mess—glass shards still glittered on the floor, and the splintered remains of the doorframe were a stark reminder of what had happened.  

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. This was my place. My chaos. I could fix it.  

Behind me, Lando lingered in the doorway, his arms crossed as he surveyed the wreckage. “It’s worse than I thought.”  

I glanced back at him, raising a brow. “You should’ve seen it before the first clean-up. It had a certain ‘post-apocalyptic charm.’”  

He didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Are you sure about this?”  

“Yes,” I said, walking further inside. “This is my space, Lando. I’m not letting Malik—or anyone else—take it away from me.”  

--- 

Lando stepped inside cautiously, watching as Y/N began to pick up the broken pieces of her apartment.  

She moved with purpose, her every action deliberate as she cleared the debris and set things right. But there was a tension in her shoulders, a weight she was trying to hide.  

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Lando said after a while, his voice quieter now.  

Y/N looked at him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “I know. But I need to. This isn’t your fight, Lando. It never was.”  

“It became my fight the moment you walked into my world,” he replied, his tone firm.  

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.  

--- 

It took hours to clean up the mess, but I felt better with every piece of glass I swept away and every overturned chair I set upright.  

By the time I collapsed onto the couch, the apartment looked almost normal. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine again.  

Lando sat down on the armrest, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the room. “You’ve made progress.”  

“Damn right, I have,” I said, leaning back with a tired smile. “And before you ask—no, I’m not moving back into your condo. This is my space.”  

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “You’re nothing if not stubborn.”  

“Takes one to know one,” I shot back.  

--- 

Lando stood, his hands slipping into his pockets as he looked down at her. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re insane for coming back here so soon.”  

“Noted,” Y/N replied with a grin.  

“But,” he continued, his voice softening, “I’m glad you’re okay. And for the record, you don’t have to do everything on your own.”  

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, her tone losing its usual edge. “Thanks for helping me, Lando. I mean it.”  

He nodded, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “Don’t mention it.”  

As he turned to leave, Y/N watched him go, a faint warmth settling in her chest.  

She wouldn’t admit it to him, but having him there—even for a little while—made her feel less alone. 

--- 

Y/N waited until the sound of Lando’s car faded into the distance before pulling out her phone. She sat cross-legged on her couch, her fingers tapping against the edge of her phone case as she stared at Max’s name on the screen.  

This wasn’t a call she wanted to make, but she didn’t have a choice.  

With a resigned sigh, she tapped the screen and brought the phone to her ear.  

It didn’t take long for Max to pick up.  

“You’ve been quiet,” he said, skipping the pleasantries. “Too quiet.”  

“Yeah, well,” Y/N replied, leaning back against the couch. “I’ve been busy handling my life.”  

“Handling it or running from it?” Max asked, his tone sharp.  

She rolled her eyes. “Do you have a point, or is this just a check-in to see if I’m still breathing?”  

“I have your next mission,” Max said, cutting straight to the point.  

Y/N’s posture stiffened, her fingers tightening around the phone. “Go on.”  

--- 

“Mercedes and McLaren have been getting too cozy,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “We’ve been hearing whispers of a potential deal between them, something that could shift the balance in their favor. We need to know what it is.”  

“And let me guess,” Y/N said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You want me to find out.”  

“Correct,” I replied. “There’s a warehouse near the docks, one of McLaren’s quieter operations. Our intel says there’s a file there—something that details the negotiations between McLaren and Mercedes. I need you to get it.”  

She let out a low whistle. “Breaking into a McLaren warehouse? You really don’t like me, do you?”  

“This isn’t personal,” I said, though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true. “It’s important. If they finalize this deal, it could set us back significantly.”  

--- 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a slow breath. “And what’s the plan if I get caught? You going to swoop in and save me?”  

“No,” Max said bluntly. “That’s why you’re not getting caught.”  

“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure or anything.”  

“You’re the best we’ve got, Y/N,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “That’s why you’re in this position. I wouldn’t send you if I didn’t think you could handle it.”  

I didn’t respond right away, my mind already running through the logistics. Breaking into a McLaren warehouse wasn’t just risky—it was reckless. But it was also the job, and I didn’t back down from challenges.  

“Fine,” I said finally. “Send me the details.”  

“You’ll have them within the hour,” Max replied. “And Y/N? Don’t let me down.”  

I hung up without responding, tossing the phone onto the coffee table as I leaned back against the couch.  

What the hell have I gotten myself into now?  

--- 

True to his word, Max sent the details of the mission within the hour. Y/N studied the information carefully, her mind piecing together a plan as she packed a small bag with everything she’d need.  

Her fingers hovered over the knife she’d taken from Lando’s office, the blade still sharp and pristine.  

He’d lose his mind if he knew what I was doing.  

The thought made her smirk, but it quickly faded as the weight of the mission settled over her. This wasn’t just about proving herself to Max or the Redbull family—it was about survival.  

If she failed, it wasn’t just her cover that would be blown.  

It was everything.  

--- 

The warehouse was going to be heavily guarded—that much was obvious. McLaren didn’t do anything halfway, and if this file was as important as Max made it seem, they’d have people watching it.  

I’d need to be fast, quiet, and—above all—careful.  

I double-checked my gear, slipping the knife into its sheath and securing it at my hip. The pistol went into the holster at my back, concealed beneath the loose hoodie I wore.  

The plan was risky, but I’d pulled off worse.  

I just had to hope my luck held out.  

--- 

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the city, Y/N stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the skyline. The city buzzed with life, oblivious to the chaos brewing beneath its surface.  

Her phone buzzed again, a final message from Max:  

We’re counting on you.  

She stared at the words for a moment before deleting the message.  

This wasn’t just about the Redbull family or their war with McLaren. This was about proving to herself that she could do this, that she could survive in a world where trust was a liability and weakness was a death sentence.  

She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she headed for the door.  

The night was just beginning, and Y/N was ready.  

--- 

The air near the docks was sharp and biting, carrying the distinct tang of salt and oil. The warehouse loomed ahead, a hulking steel giant bathed in the glow of scattered floodlights. It was the kind of place that whispered secrets into the dark—if you knew how to listen. 

Y/N crouched behind a stack of rusting shipping containers, her hood drawn low and her fingers gripping the hilt of her knife. Her breath was slow and steady, her eyes scanning the perimeter. Two guards stood by the main entrance, their postures lax, their focus minimal. A third patrolled along the side of the building, his flashlight swinging lazily. 

She smirked to herself. Amateurs. 

Sliding out from behind the container, she moved silently, her footsteps muffled by the damp ground. The side entrance was her target—an unmonitored door just outside the camera’s sweep. 

Reaching the door, she pulled a slim lock-pick from her pocket and got to work. The lock clicked open in seconds, and she slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind her. 

Inside, the air was cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of machinery. Rows of crates and pallets stretched out before her like a labyrinth, shadows dancing in the faint glow of overhead lights. 

Y/N crouched, scanning the catwalks above for movement. A guard paced slowly, his flashlight cutting arcs through the shadows. She waited, counting his steps until he turned away, then darted between the crates. 

The office was her destination, tucked into the far corner of the warehouse. Her intel said the file would be there—evidence of McLaren’s dealings with Mercedes. It was the kind of information that could shift the balance of power, and Y/N was here to claim it. 

She moved with purpose, her steps deliberate and silent. Every corner, every sound was measured and assessed, her confidence unwavering. This was her domain—the shadows, the game of cat and mouse. 

What she didn’t know was that she wasn’t alone. 

--- 

The air near the docks was cold, heavy with the tang of salt and diesel. The warehouse loomed in the distance, its steel walls glinting faintly under the glow of scattered floodlights. A symphony of muffled machinery, distant waves, and occasional footsteps filled the silence. 

Y/N crouched behind a stack of shipping containers, her figure hidden by the dark, unassuming clothes she wore—a simple black hoodie, cargo pants, and a mask that covered the lower half of her face. She’d chosen her attire carefully, ensuring that even if someone spotted her, they wouldn’t recognize her. 

Her eyes scanned the perimeter. Two guards at the main entrance, another circling the building’s side, and one stationed near the back. Predictable. Easy. 

She adjusted the strap of her bag, where her tools and a small weapon were tucked securely. This file better be worth it, Max, she thought, slipping into the shadows and toward the side entrance. 

--- 

Breaking into a place like this wasn’t new to me. 

I kept low, my movements silent as I reached the side door. The camera above it swept lazily across the area, its range limited. Timing its arc, I slipped into its blind spot and crouched by the lock. 

Pulling out my lock-picking tools, I worked quickly. The mechanism was cheap—whoever set up security here didn’t expect professionals. Within seconds, the lock clicked open, and I pushed the door ajar, slipping inside. 

The air inside was colder, the faint hum of machinery echoing through the vast space. Crates and pallets were stacked in neat rows, forming a maze that stretched out into the shadows. Overhead, metal catwalks crisscrossed the warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. 

I took a slow breath, letting the shadows settle over me like a second skin. The office was on the far side of the building, a small glass box elevated on a platform. That’s where the file would be. 

--- 

I wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Oscar had flagged the warehouse as a potential weak point in our operations, so I’d decided to check it out personally. It was quiet tonight, just a skeleton crew of guards. Exactly how I liked it—quick, efficient, and private. 

From the catwalk above, I surveyed the floor, noting the layout and the guards’ routes. It all seemed routine until I spotted movement below. 

Someone darted between the crates, their figure quick and silent, dressed in black from head to toe. 

My body tensed, and my instincts kicked in. This wasn’t a worker or a guard. 

An intruder. 

I moved along the catwalk, keeping my distance as I tracked their movements. Whoever they were, they were good—calculated, confident, and precise. 

But not invisible. 

--- 

Breaking into a place like this wasn’t new to me. 

I kept low, my movements silent as I reached the side door. The camera above it swept lazily across the area, its range limited. Timing its arc, I slipped into its blind spot and crouched by the lock. 

Pulling out my lock-picking tools, I worked quickly. The mechanism was cheap—whoever set up security here didn’t expect professionals. Within seconds, the lock clicked open, and I pushed the door ajar, slipping inside. 

The air inside was colder, the faint hum of machinery echoing through the vast space. Crates and pallets were stacked in neat rows, forming a maze that stretched out into the shadows. Overhead, metal catwalks crisscrossed the warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. 

I took a slow breath, letting the shadows settle over me like a second skin. The office was on the far side of the building, a small glass box elevated on a platform. That’s where the file would be. 

--- 

The office door was locked—naturally—but locks were rarely a problem for me. I slipped the pick from my pocket and crouched by the door, working quickly. 

The mechanism clicked, and I eased the door open, stepping inside and shutting it softly behind me. 

The office was cramped, cluttered with papers, folders, and a desk piled high with files. A single computer sat in the corner, its screen locked but still glowing faintly. 

I went straight for the filing cabinets, my hands moving efficiently through the drawers. Pens, invoices, shipment records—nothing useful. 

It wasn’t until I reached the second drawer that I found it: a slim folder labeled with a cryptic code that matched Max’s intel. 

I opened it briefly, my eyes scanning the contents. Negotiation notes. Shipment details. Signatures. Bingo. 

I slipped the file into my bag, zipping it closed. 

And then I heard it. 

A voice crackled over the warehouse intercom, distorted but clear: “Patrol teams to the main office. Possible intruder detected.” 

My stomach dropped. 

--- 

The faint sound of footsteps reached my ears, growing louder with every passing second. Someone was coming—several someones, by the sound of it. 

I cursed under my breath, glancing around the office. There was no back exit, no easy way out. 

I pressed myself into the shadows near the door, my hand hovering over the knife at my hip. 

Stay calm. Think. 

The door opened, and two guards stepped inside, their flashlights cutting through the dim space. 

“Boss said to double-check the office,” one of them muttered. “Could’ve sworn he saw something.” 

I stayed perfectly still, my breath shallow as they scanned the room. 

--- 

From the catwalk, I watched as the guards entered the office. 

The intruder had slipped in just moments earlier, their movements so fluid I almost admired them. Almost. 

I signaled to the guards below, pointing them toward the office. If this was a thief or a spy, they wouldn’t make it out. 

But something about this person gnawed at me. The way they moved, the confidence in their steps—it was... familiar. 

Still, I stayed silent, waiting to see how they’d handle being cornered. 

--- 

The guards moved deeper into the office, their flashlights sweeping across the room. 

Y/N waited, her body tense as they came closer. When one of them turned his back to her, she made her move. 

She struck quickly, her knife pressed against the guard’s throat before he could react. 

“Quiet,” she hissed, her voice low and distorted by the mask. “Or you won’t get a second warning.” 

The second guard froze, his flashlight dropping as he reached for his weapon. 

“Don’t,” Y/N warned, shifting her position so the first guard shielded her. 

The second guard hesitated, his hand hovering over his holster. 

Y/N shoved the first guard into him, knocking them both off balance, and darted out of the office. 

--- 

The intruder burst out of the office, moving faster than I expected. 

The guards scrambled after them, shouting warnings that echoed through the warehouse. 

I followed from above, my eyes locked on their figure as they weaved through the maze of crates. 

Whoever they were, they were good. 

Too good. 

--- 

Y/N was almost at the exit, her heart pounding as she darted between the crates. She felt it before she heard it—someone else was following her. Not the guards, whose footsteps were heavy and clumsy. This was someone quieter, faster, and far more dangerous.  

Her pulse quickened as she glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of a figure descending from the catwalks above.  

Her jaw tightened. Who the hell is that?  

The figure moved with precision, cutting off her path to the side door. Y/N pivoted, ready to change direction, but he was too quick. They collided with force, the impact sending her stumbling back.  

Before she could recover, he lunged, grabbing her wrist as her knife flashed between them. 

--- 

I twisted hard, my free hand striking out as I tried to break his grip. He was strong, stronger than I expected, and every move I made was met with an equally skilled counter.  

His hand clamped around my wrist, forcing my knife away from his body.  

“Not bad,” I muttered under my breath, the words muffled by my mask.  

His eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. “Who are you?”  

I didn’t answer. Instead, I shifted my weight, kicking out hard. My boot caught him in the knee, just enough to throw him off balance.  

He stumbled but didn’t let go, his grip tightening as he spun us around.  

--- 

The intruder wasn’t just good—they were trained. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, and relentless.  

They twisted again, their knife slashing toward my side. I dodged, the blade grazing my jacket, but I managed to shove them back into the crates.  

“Who sent you?” I demanded, my voice cold.  

They didn’t respond, their masked face giving nothing away. Instead, they came at me again, their knife flashing in the dim light.  

The fight was fast and brutal, every strike and counterstrike a test of skill. I felt the sting of a cut on my forearm, but I ignored it, focusing on disarming them.  

--- 

The struggle between them was fierce, the clash of steel and the scuffle of boots on concrete echoing through the warehouse.  

Y/N fought with everything she had, her movements fluid and unrelenting. Lando countered with equal ferocity, his instincts honed from years of experience.  

A crate toppled over as Y/N spun, using the environment to her advantage. She lunged, her knife slicing close enough to tear through the fabric of Lando’s shirt.  

He retaliated, his fist catching her shoulder and sending her stumbling back.  

Both of them were breathing hard now, blood staining their clothes from small but deliberate wounds.  

--- 

I had to end this. 

It wasn’t just some guard. I’d realized that the moment he blocked my first strike with precision that no hired muscle could manage. This was Lando. 

His movements were sharp, efficient, and damn near impossible to counter. Every step I took, every calculated strike, was met with an equally brutal response. He wasn’t trying to subdue me—he was trying to figure out who I was. 

That couldn’t happen. 

My mind raced, adrenaline pounding through me as I reassessed. Lando wasn’t a target, and fighting him wasn’t part of the plan. He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

I needed to move. To escape. 

I feinted left, drawing his attention with a quick flick of my knife. His body shifted instinctively to block, and that was all the opening I needed. Twisting hard, I wrenched myself free of his grip, my feet already moving as I slipped around him. 

For a split second, I hesitated. 

My instincts screamed at me to press the attack, to strike before he could recover. But this wasn’t about taking him down. It was about getting out—alive and unidentified. 

There wasn’t time. 

--- 

Lando cursed, his hand flying out to grab her, but she was already gone, darting between the crates with a speed that left him no time to react.  

Y/N moved like a shadow, her figure barely visible as she disappeared into the maze of the warehouse.  

The guards, alerted by the commotion, converged on her position, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.  

She didn’t slow.  

With calculated precision, she took them down one by one—an elbow to the temple here, a sweep of the leg there. Each move was efficient and brutal, leaving the guards sprawled on the ground as she made her way to the exit.  

By the time she burst through the side door and into the night, her breaths were coming fast and ragged.  

--- 

I reached the exit just in time to see the intruder vanish into the shadows.  

My side ached, and my arm was slick with blood from the cut they’d landed, but that wasn’t what bothered me most.  

Whoever they were, they weren’t just some random thief. They’d known exactly what they were doing, and they’d been after something specific.  

As I stared into the darkness, one thought echoed in my mind.  

Who the hell are you?  

--- 

The docks were silent by the time Y/N made it to the drop-off point. Tucked away between two abandoned warehouses, the location was as unassuming as it was isolated.  

She crouched near a rusted steel container, her movements deliberate as she pulled the file from her bag. The sharp pain in her arm flared as she moved, but she gritted her teeth and ignored it.  

Placing the file into the secure lockbox Max had described, she stood and glanced around once more. The faint glow of streetlights in the distance cast eerie shadows across the empty lot.  

No loose ends.  

With the mission complete, Y/N melted into the shadows, vanishing into the night.  

--- 

The McLaren estate was as grand as ever, its sprawling grounds meticulously maintained, and the air buzzing with the quiet efficiency of the staff. Y/N arrived mid-morning, her steps light but her mind heavy.  

She’d wrapped her injured arm carefully, the white bandage hidden beneath the sleeve of a fitted leather jacket. Though the cut wasn’t deep, it was obvious enough to draw attention if someone looked too closely.  

And Lando always looked too closely.  

As she entered the main hall, she spotted him at the far end, leaning against a marble counter in conversation with Oscar. He looked as composed as ever, his signature curls slightly disheveled, a cup of coffee in one hand.  

The sight of him brought back the previous night in an instant—the fight, the way he’d moved, the close call.  

But he didn’t know.  

He couldn’t.  

Y/N squared her shoulders and approached, her usual confidence firmly in place.  

--- 

I noticed her the moment she walked in.  

Y/N had a way of commanding attention without trying—her confidence, the way she moved, like she belonged wherever she chose to be.  

But today, something was different.  

She was holding herself a little too carefully, her posture stiff in a way that most people wouldn’t catch. And then there was her arm.  

The faint bulge of a bandage beneath her jacket sleeve didn’t escape my notice.  

My eyes narrowed slightly as she reached us, a faint smirk playing on her lips.  

“Morning, boys,” she said, her tone casual as she leaned against the counter beside Oscar.  

“You’re in a good mood,” Oscar said, raising a brow.  

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied smoothly.  

--- 

Lando’s gaze lingered on her arm, his mind racing. He didn’t ask about it immediately—he knew Y/N well enough to know she wouldn’t give him a straight answer.  

But something about the timing was off.  

The night before, a skilled intruder had broken into one of McLaren’s key warehouses. The guards’ reports had been vague, but Lando didn’t need details to know whoever it was had been dangerous.  

And now Y/N shows up with a freshly bandaged arm?  

It didn’t sit right.  

“Everything okay?” Lando asked casually, his tone light but probing.  

“Never better,” Y/N said, her smirk widening as she met his gaze.  

He didn’t look away, his eyes darkening as suspicion took root.  

“Funny,” he said after a pause. “I heard there was some trouble at the docks last night.”  

Y/N’s smirk faltered for the briefest moment before she recovered, her laugh light and dismissive. “Trouble at the docks? Sounds like your security needs an upgrade.”  

Lando didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking to her arm again.  

“What happened to your arm?” he asked, his voice sharper now.  

--- 

My chest tightened, but I didn’t let it show.  

“Cut myself,” I said easily, gesturing vaguely. “Kitchen accident. You know, knives can be tricky.”  

Lando didn’t look convinced.  

His dark eyes locked onto mine, the intensity in his gaze making my stomach churn. For a moment, I thought he might press further, might connect the dots right there and then.  

But instead, he leaned back, his smirk returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  

“Be careful,” he said, his tone deceptively smooth. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt again.”  

His words felt like a challenge, and I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching.  

“I’ll try,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tension simmering between us.  

--- 

As Y/N turned to leave, Lando watched her go, his mind racing.  

The timing of her injury, the break-in, and her evasiveness didn’t feel like a coincidence.  

He tapped his fingers against the counter, his jaw tightening as he considered the implications.  

If it was her...  

His thoughts were interrupted by Oscar, who spoke quietly. “Something doesn’t add up, does it?”  

“No,” Lando said, his voice low.  

And not for the first time, doubt crept into his mind—not just about Y/N’s story, but about who she really was.  

To be continued... 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Series Taglist: @laptime-deleted, @planet-faerie, @iloveotters11, @anamiad00msday

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar, @fadingcloudballoon-blog, @same1995, @hinamesgigantica, @laptime-deleted, @planet-faerie, @iloveotters11. @anamiad00msday

[oaksgrove]

Family comes first.

pairing: platonic!141 x fem!Reader

summary: When an unexpected leave of absence raises questions among the 141, Captain Price and the team uncover the truth: their lieutenant is facing the challenges of pregnancy alone.

warnings: Discussions of pregnancy, mentions of emotional vulnerability, fluff, humor, and strong family dynamics.

word count: 1697

The morning Laswell’s email arrived, Price knew something was wrong.

The subject line was terse: Leave of Absence.

He opened it, expecting one of the usual reports or mission directives, but instead found a scanned note from a doctor, granting you indefinite leave. No details. No explanations. Just a date and a signature.

Price frowned, rereading the note as if it might suddenly offer more information. “Laswell,” he muttered, grabbing his phone.

The call went straight to voicemail.

When he gathered the boys—Soap, Gaz, and Ghost—to break the news, the reactions were immediate.

“She just… left?” Soap asked, brows furrowed. “No goodbye? No explanation?”

“Laswell wouldn’t even tell you why?” Gaz added, his concern clear.

Ghost was silent, arms crossed, but the tension in his posture spoke volumes.

Price shook his head. “All I got was the note. Says it’s personal.”

The room fell into uneasy silence. None of them liked being kept in the dark, especially when it came to one of their own.

“Something’s not right,” Ghost said finally, his low voice cutting through the tension.

Price’s jaw tightened. “We’re going to find out what’s going on.

Laswell’s office was typically a haven of order, but when the 141 stormed in unannounced, it became a battlefield.

Price led the charge, his expression stormy. Soap and Gaz flanked him, while Ghost lingered just behind, his presence menacing as ever.

“Captain,” Laswell greeted, looking up from her desk. Her tone was calm, but the slight tightening of her jaw betrayed her unease. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know damn well why we’re here,” Price said, placing the printed doctor’s note on her desk. “What’s going on with her?”

Laswell’s eyes flicked to the paper, then back to Price. “It’s personal.”

“That’s not good enough,” Price said sharply. “She’s part of my team, Kate. We deserve to know if she’s okay.”

Laswell leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “She’s fine. She’s taking care of something important, and I’m making sure she has the space to do it.”

“Space for what?” Soap asked, his frustration bubbling over.

“That’s not your business, Sergeant,” Laswell said firmly, her gaze cutting to him.

“It bloody well is when she vanishes without a word!” Gaz interjected.

Ghost’s voice cut through the growing chaos, low and dangerous. “We’re not leaving until you tell us what’s going on.”

Laswell hesitated, glancing at each of them in turn. Finally, she let out a long sigh. “Look, I can’t tell you. She asked me not to. All I can say is that she’s safe, and she’s being looked after.”

“By who?” Price pressed.

“By me,” Laswell said simply. “And Sarah.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words settling over them.

Price’s eyes narrowed. “If she’s in trouble—”

“She’s not,” Laswell interrupted. “But she’s dealing with something personal, and she needs time. You have to trust me on this, John.”

Price stared at her for a long moment before finally nodding, though his jaw remained tight. “Fine. But if anything happens, you let us know immediately.”

“Of course,” Laswell said, her tone softening. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Long before the boys discovered your secret, Laswell and Sarah had been your pillars. They visited regularly, ensuring you had everything you needed and offering unwavering emotional support.

One evening, as you sat on the couch surrounded by baby clothes and prenatal vitamins, Sarah placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You’re doing great,” she said warmly.

You let out a shaky laugh. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Laswell, sitting across from you with a cup of tea, raised an eyebrow. “You’re juggling a pregnancy and keeping it together on your own. That’s more than most people could handle.”

You sighed, resting a hand on your growing belly. “I just… I didn’t want the team to know. I’m afraid of what they’ll think.”

Sarah exchanged a glance with Laswell before leaning forward. “Honey, those men adore you. They’d probably build a nursery on base if you told them.”

Laswell chuckled. “She’s not wrong.”

You smiled faintly but didn’t respond.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom.” Sarah said softly.

Tears filled your eyes, and you nodded, unable to speak.

-

Weeks passed. The team tried to focus on their work, but your absence left a noticeable void. Soap still grumbled about your jokes, Gaz brought up your cooking, and even Ghost—stoic as ever—paused occasionally during briefings, as if expecting you to chime in.

Simon didn’t plan to find you.

He’d been wandering the mall on a rare day off, stocking up on essentials, when a familiar figure caught his eye.

It was you, standing in front of a baby store, your hands resting on your stomach.

Simon froze, his mind racing. He followed you inside, keeping a safe distance as you browsed the aisles.

You picked up a soft yellow onesie, holding it against your bump with a small, wistful smile.

She’s pregnant, Simon realized, his chest tightening.

When you moved to the register, he slipped out unnoticed, his mind spinning. Back at the base, he wasted no time finding Price.

“Found her,” he said without preamble.

Price looked up sharply. “What?”

“Spotted her at the mall,” Simon said, his voice low but firm. “She’s pregnant, Cap.”

Price leaned back in his chair, absorbing the news. “Bloody hell.”

“Was alone,” Simon added. “No bloke in sight.”

Price sighed, running a hand over his face. “Probably thought we’d judge her. Or that she’d be a burden.”

“Laswell’s been covering for her, probably didn’t think we’d understand.” Simon added. “What do we do?”

“What we always do,” Price said firmly. “We take care of our own.”

-

It was Price who came to see you first. He showed up unannounced, knocking on the door of your small apartment with the kind of authority that was impossible to ignore.

When you opened the door and saw him standing there, your heart sank.

“Captain…”

“Lieutenant,” he replied, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. His sharp eyes took in the cozy but cluttered space: prenatal vitamins on the counter, a stack of baby books on the table, and a diaper bag by the couch.

“You didn’t want us to know,” he said, his tone even but firm.

You swallowed hard, wrapping your arms around your belly. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Price’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You listen to me. You’re part of this team, and nothing changes that. We’re family, and family doesn’t turn its back.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.

From that moment, the boys rallied around you like a well-oiled machine.

Price took charge of logistics, coordinating your doctor’s appointments and ensuring you had everything you needed. He showed up with groceries, baby supplies, and—on one occasion—a rocking chair he’d built himself.

“You made this?” you asked, running a hand over the smooth wood.

“Figured it might help,” he said gruffly, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable.

Soap became your personal cheerleader, insisting on helping you decorate the nursery. He spent hours assembling furniture, cracking jokes to keep you laughing through the process.

“Look at this wee crib,” he said, holding up a tiny mobile. “This baby’s gonna have the best view in town.”

Gaz, ever practical, took on meal prep duty, showing up with containers of healthy, ready-to-eat food.

“Gotta keep you and the little one fed,” he said, handing you a container of stew. “No arguments.”

And Ghost… Ghost was the quiet, steady presence you didn’t know you needed. He didn’t say much, but he was always there—fixing things around the apartment, carrying heavy boxes, and ensuring you had someone to lean on.

“You don’t have to do all this,” you said one day as he installed blackout curtains in the nursery.

“You’re right,” he replied, not looking up. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

Laswell and her wife, Sarah, became your unofficial wellness committee, showing up regularly to check on you.

“How’re you feeling?” Laswell asked during one visit, handing you a cup of tea while Sarah unpacked a bag of baby clothes.

“Good,” you said, glancing at the pile of tiny socks and onesies. “Better than I deserve, honestly.”

“Nonsense,” Sarah said, giving you a warm smile. “You’re doing great.”

-

When the day finally came, you were surrounded by your team in every sense.

Price was the first to arrive at the hospital, his steady presence calming you during the chaos. Soap and Gaz followed soon after, filling the room with nervous energy and encouragement but Price sent them to the hallway after making you too agitated. Ghost stayed in the hallway, ready to step in if needed but giving you space.

Hours later, when the baby’s cries filled the room, the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“It’s a girl,” the nurse announced, placing the tiny bundle in your arms.

You looked down at your son, tears streaming down your face. “Hi, sweetheart,” you whispered, your heart swelling with love.

Price, standing at your bedside, rested a hand on your shoulder. “You did good, Lieutenant.”

Soap peeked over his shoulder, grinning. “Look at her! She’s already got more hair than Ghost.”

“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost muttered, though there was a rare softness in his tone.

Back at the base, the team embraced their roles as uncles with pride. Soap declared himself the baby’s favorite, Gaz perfected his swaddling technique, and Ghost quietly ensured the nursery was stocked with everything you could need.

Price was the first to hold the baby during a team meeting, cradling him with surprising ease.

“Captain’s got the touch,” Soap teased, snapping a photo.

Gaz grinned. “Reckon he’s already training him to take over one day.”

Ghost, standing in the corner, simply nodded. “He’ll fit right in.”

And as you looked around at your makeshift family—your daughter nestled in Price’s arms, Soap and Gaz arguing over who got to babysit next, and Ghost quietly assembling a stroller—you realized you were exactly where you needed to be.

You weren’t alone. You never had been.

[delusional-through-and-through]

HANDMADE 🥀

It was nearly Christmas, and Class 1A dorm were buzzing with excitement. The class decided to host a Christmas party, complete with a exchange gift event. The rule was simple, draw a name and keep it a secret until the party.

Akira sighed deeply as she looked at the name she had drawn.

“Of course, it’s you,” she muttered, glaring at the name 'Bakugou Katsuki' .

The girls noticed her expression. “Hey, Akira, you good?” Mina asked, bouncing up to her.

“Yeah, fine,” Akira replied, stuffing the paper in her pocket.

“Wanna come shopping with us next week? We’re getting gifts,” Jirou offered.

“Sure,” Akira said with a shrug. She figured she might as well find something fitting for the exploding guy.

...........

A week later, the girls found their selves on the mall shopping for their gifts. As they browsed the stores, the girls chatted about their gift ideas.

“I think I’ll get some accessories,” Yaoyorozu said.

“I’m going for something fun, maybe snacks,” Mina added. “What about you, Akira?”

Akira smirked. “I’m gonna go with a plushie.”

“A plushie?” Ochaco asked, curious.

“Yeah, I’ll make a handmade plushie. Oh, and I’m throwing in some recorders too". She said holding up the recorder she just bought.

“The person I’m giving it to is gonna love it.” Her sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed, but the girls just giggled, assuming it was her way of showing care.

..........

After a good night's sleep, she began crafting the plushie with utmost concentration. The winter break gave her plenty of time to perfect it. Once it was done, she installed a recorder inside and loaded it with a snippet of a song.

“Perfect,” she muttered, smirking at her creation.

...........

Finally, Christmas arrived. The dorm were decorated in Christmas decors all over, and all the students were dressed in Santa costumes.

Akira helped prepare the food, skillfully dodging Mineta's attempts to sneak snacks and perverted attacks.

When the time came for the gift exchange, everyone gathered around the tree. It was Akira’s turn to reveal who she had drawn.

She stood up, holding a neatly wrapped box. “Alright, I got Bakugou,” she announced.

Akira handed him the gift, smirking. “Merry Christmas”

The room collectively “oohed” and turned to Bakugou, who rolled his eyes. “Tch, this better not be stupid.”

He tore open the wrapping, revealing an angry pomeranian plushie in his hero costume. The plushie's expression almost a mirror of his own.

Bakugou's eye twitched as the class burst into laughter.

“YOU MADE ME A DAMN DOG?!” Bakugou growled, his voice rising.

He clenched the plushie tightly, activating the recorder, then the plushie began to sing in a tinny but loud voice.

“I’M T.N.T., I’M DYNAMITE!

T.N.T., AND I’LL WIN THE FIGHT!

T.N.T., I’M A POWER LOAD!

T.N.T., WATCH ME EXPLODE!”

The class burst out laughing again, with Kirishima and Kaminari holding their stomach and Mina smacking the table. Even Todoroki cracked a smile.

"That’s perfect!" Kaminari said enjoying the show.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, EXTRA?!” Bakugou yelled, his face bright red clearly from annoyance.

His grip on the plushie tightened more as he shouted, “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, HUH?!”

“Hilarious, actually. You’re welcome.” She crossed her arms, grinning. “What?You don’t like it? I thought it suited you.”

“YOU WANNA DIE?!”

“Relax, it’s Christmas. Besides, it’s handmade. You should be grateful.”

The class laughed harder as Bakugou glared at her, his face a mix of annoyance and reluctant appreciation.

Finally, after the teasing died down, Bakugou muttered, “Tch. Thanks, I guess.”

“Wow, you actually said thank you. Guess it’s a Christmas miracle.” Akira said dramatically wiping away her non-existent tears.

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, turning away, but he didn’t throw the plushie. Instead, he tucked it under his arm, grumbling as the next person took their turn.

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

The party continued in full swing after the gift exchange, with blasting music and everyone enjoying the food and little activities.

Akira found herself leaning against the kitchen counter with a cup of hot cocoa, watching the chaos from a distance.

“Oi,” a familiar gruff voice called out.

She turned her head to see Bakugou standing there, the angry pomeranian plushie still tucked under his arm. His face was as stormy as ever, but there was an almost unnoticeable awkwardness to his posture.

“What’s up, Kacchan?” Akira asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.

He clicked his tongue. “You really thought that thing was funny, huh?”

Akira chuckled, setting her cup down. “I mean, yeah. The whole class thought so too. Admit it, it’s the perfect gift for you.”

She pointed at the plushie. “That little guy? He’s you in every way.”

“It’s not me,” Bakugou snapped, though his grip on the plushie tightened slightly. “You’re just an idiot with too much free time.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Akira teased, leaning closer with a grin. “You like it, don’t you? I caught you carrying it around. Pretty sure you’ve already named it.”

“What?!” Bakugou glared at her. “Why the hell would I name some stupid plushie?”

“I dunno,” Akira said, crossing her arms and pretending to think. “Hmm....maybe something like… Mini-Me? Or Boomie? Oh! What about Pomsplosion?”

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugou barked, his voice cracking slightly as he turned away.

Akira couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, so you do like it!”

“I don’t like it!” Bakugou growled, but he didn’t let go of the plushie, which only made Akira laugh harder.

“Alright, alright,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll stop. For now.”

He glanced at her, his scowl softening for just a second. “Tch. Whatever. Just don’t expect me to do somethin’ like this for you next year.”

“Noted,” Akira said, her smirk turning into a genuine smile. “But hey, I’m glad you didn’t throw it out or set it on fire. That’s basically a compliment coming from you.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he muttered, turning on his heel.

As he walked off, Akira called after him, “Merry Christmas, Bakugou!”

He raised a hand in response but didn’t look back. The faint redness in his ears didn’t go unnoticed by Akira, who couldn’t help but grin.

“Well, that went better than expected,” she murmured to herself, sipping her cocoa.

[salt-clangen]

Moon 10

Leaf bare

First Frost Festival

“Are you sure, you’re alright staying behind for the gathering?” Wolfstar asked as she loaded another basket with charms.

“Someone has too.” Shadowdive responded gruffly.

She paused and glanced over the camp, Burnpaw was bundling rosemary with Lynxpaw. Meanwhile, Snowspeckle was playing moss ball with her kits, getting them tired before breaking the news they’ll be gone all day. No one was near the pair.

“I didn’t expect you to volunteer. I figured Burnpaw would stay back since he hasn’t been to a gathering since joining.” She admitted, not missing his hackles raise just a hair as she spoke.

“Makes more sense for me to stay back and guard the camp. Lynxpaw is the cleric, Snow is the deputy, and Burnpaw is helping cook.” He paused for a moment and lifted his still sprained paw. “Not much use on three legs anyways.”

Normally, she would accept that, Shadowdive had always been pragmatic even when it meant he got the short end of the stick. But it just doesn’t sit right with her this time.

“I guess I just wish you could come as well.” She sighed, ears flicking a little as a cold wind blew through the camp.

“It’ll be fine.” He said dismissively, busying himself with his leg wrap.

“Oh I’m not worried about you.” She laughed, but cut herself off quickly. “What I mean-heh is I’m not worried about the camp in your care. Heh.”

His back was to her so she couldn’t get a good read on him. Regardless, he didn’t respond.

Wolfstar wished she could just ask him why he seemed so off, but she wasn’t entirely sure it was him who was acting different. Her dreams were still plaguing her with visions of mismatched eyes, she wondered if the restless sleep was changing her.

As she finished with the baskets and he staked another torch beside the nursery den entrance, the winds died down. The clan had been working on torches for most of leaf fall and now with leaf bare finally arriving they’d planted multiple unlit torches in the sand around camp to help maintain warmth and deter snow building up.

She brushed her side against Shadowdive’s as she walked by to check on Burnpaw, the dark tom pulled back quickly. Not missing a step she tried to not look upset as she approached the camp keeper.

“Oh, hey Wolfstar.” The red tom greeted her, cinching a knot in the twine as he did. “This is the last one and we should be ready.”

“Good, all our charms are loaded up and Oakclan said we didn’t need to bring anything aside from the that and rosemary.” She smiled, looking over the bundles.

“I think Lynxpaw was gonna bring some black salt as well for some more spiritual protection.”

“Oh? How’d you make black salt?” She asked the young cleric as she returned from her den. “Normally clerics use coltsfoot and ash.”

“Similar process, but since salt is a powerful tool both spiritually and in our food, I figured I could kinda combine it and see how the other clerics like it.” Lynxpaw opened the jar she was carrying to show her. “I mixed ground up herbs like sage and thyme and gently toasted them in a dry pot over the fire. When it cooled I added in the salt and some ash. It’s a nice color and should contain all the properties of its ingredients.”

“Wow very impressive.” Wolfstar gave the mixture a sniff. “Mousefoot will be impressed.”

“I hope so!”

Squealing from across the camp caught their attention.

“Uh oh, looks like Snowspeckle broke the news to them.” Burnpaw murmured, settling into a loaf.

Wolfstar sat beside him and watched, pressing her side against his to make up for the chilly morning. Otterkit was crying, clinging to his mother’s leg, while Ripplekit just looked angry. Poor Snowspeckle tried to ease the black kit’s grip but he clung tighter.

“Should we help her?” Lynxpaw asked, settling on Wolfstar’s other side.

“Fuck that.” The leader laughed. “I might actually break and bring them with us.”

“I mean, is it against the rules?”

“Lynxpaw we are not bringing the kits to the festival.” Wolfstar said firmly.

“I’m just saying it’s not like it’s the worst thing in the world.”

“She’s got a point.” Burnpaw added, though his tone was playful.

“This is why we’re letting Snowspeckle handle this. You two are weak and so am I.” She nipped Lynxpaw’s ear tuft gently.

Eventually, Snowspeckle got untangled from her kits and passed them over to Shadowdive. The large warrior was prepared though and had a new moss ball toy ready for them, distracting the pair so Snowspeckle could trot over to the lounging group.

“Let’s go before they remember why they’re upset.” She hurriedly grabbed a basket.

The walk to the gathering place was chilly, the patrol took the long way to avoid swimming, the baskets not water proofed let alone their coats.

The festival was still setting up as the group arrived, cats lighting torches around the clearing to drive off the cold. The ground was rock solid with frost and many of the plants were dead and wilting. No snow yet, but Wolfstar suspected it would come before the end of the moon.

“Oh our friends from Saltclan have arrived!” Archstar called out as they caught sight of the group.

Wolfstar nodded to them politely before addressing her clan.

“Burnpaw, go help set up with the other cooks. Lynxpaw, you and Snowspeckle start hanging the charms around the edge of camp, then go show the other clerics your salt.”

Burnpaw seemed nervous to be present, but didn’t argue as he left to join other camp keepers.

Glancing around the camp it seemed they were the last clan to arrive, Oakclan’s artisans organizing various groups and activities. With everyone buzzing about, Wolfstar let herself be waved over by Archstar.

“Come join us Wolfstar, we’re discussing the new leaf festival.” They offered her a spot next to them on the deputy rocks. On their other side sat Rookstar, the orange leader looking as laid back as always. Across from the three stood Jaggedstar, the only cat not sitting or lying.

Wolfstar bowed her head briefly to each leader, but didn’t chime in. She settled into a loaf and waited for the conversation to begin again.

“As you know typically the first day of new leaf is celebrated by all the clans, but no one has ever really hosted.” Rookstar began.

“Though Oakclan does seem to love taking charge of it as if they were the hosts.” Jaggedstar cut in quickly.

“It only makes sense given my clan’s prosperity and gift of artisans.” Archstar said slyly, a cheeky grin on their face. “But that’s why I’m suggesting that Saltclan host the festival going forward.”

“You do?” Wolfstar asked.

“You haven’t even thought to discuss it with them?” Jaggedstar scoffed.

“We’re discussing it now aren’t we?”

“I don’t see an issue with it.” Rookstar said.

“We’d be honored to host, however I’m not sure how effective it would be given our current size, but we’d be happy to organize something suitable.” Wolfstar rushed out, hoping to get her opinion out before more arguments arouse. “If every clan finds this agreeable of course.”

She glanced at Jaggedstar for a moment, but the dark molly was quiet and stone faced, finally settling into a loaf.

“Well then, I’ll let my artisan know and we’ll begin planning.” She chirped, a little surprised the issue was resolved so quickly.

“Feel free to lean on Oakclan for this, we have plenty of resources and artisans to spare. Plus plenty of experience.” Archstar purred.

The conversation devolved into the silvery leader trying to give advice on how they’d prepare for the new leaf holiday. Wolfstar tried to politely engage, while still minimizing the pushy clan’s involvement. It continued on like that until mid morning when Jaggedstar finally rose to speak.

“If you two would excuse us, I need to speak with Wolfstar for a moment.” She huffed out, eyeing Archstar who gave her a placating smile.

Rookstar, for his part, had drifted off and began snoozing during all the chatter.

“Oh a little family reunion?” Archstar teased, tail flicking as Wolfstar stood to follow her mother.

“Hardly,” Jaggedstar hissed, sending a few cats scurrying out of her way. “We need to discuss a border issue.”

“Well don’t spend all of Wolfstar’s time discussing work matters, this is her first leaf bare festival.” They chirped, though it sounded much more snide than their other quips.

“Hmm isn’t your first frost holiday as well?” Wolfstar asked, eyes sharp on them. Archstar’s smile widened, like this was fun for them, but their tail flick betrayed themself.

They were bested.

The mother daughter pair trotted off to the other side of the clearing. Near where some apprentices were practicing their skits for the feast.

“You pissed them off.” Jaggedstar had a wide, toothy grin as she turned to face her. “I’m almost mad I wasn’t the one to put that look on their arrogant face.”

“You wanted to discuss the border?” Wolfstar asked, making her face neutral to hide her nerves. “I’m assuming you mean the abandoned nest?”

“What? No I lied to get us away from Archstar.” She shocked her coat out as a chilly drizzle began. “The nest is our territory and we’ll continue to guard it as such.”

“And we’ll continue to reclaim our territory.”

“There, now we’ve discussed it.” Jaggedstar said, seemingly pleased.

“If you wanted to get away from Archstar you could’ve just left, no need to drag me into this.” She sighed, tucking herself under some brush to avoid the rain, making room for the larger cat.

“They’re setting you up.” The larger cat hissed.

“Look I know they’re trying to take over planning the festival. I’m not gonna let them, my clan will host and that’ll be that.”

“No it won’t. Don’t you see? They’re being pushy to make you defensive, then you’ll try to host the festival all on your own right after leaf bare when your clan is already struggling. Then when the festival goes poorly because you ran out of time or supplies they get to say that you don’t deserve to host and try to claim it for themselves.”

“That’s a stretch.” Wolfstar scoffed. “I’d say Archstar is more arrogant than conniving.”

“Don’t underestimate them.” She hissed.

Like you underestimated me? Wolfstar didn’t say it, but they could both feel it hang in the air.

“So either I let them take over planning and they get to gloat or I do all the planning, fail and then they gloat?”

“Just be careful how you move with them, you don’t know them like I do.” Jaggedstar said, voice rumbling like thunder. “Don’t be afraid to delegate tasks to other clans.”

The pair sat in silence before Wolfstar finally said.

“What happened to not giving me anything for free?” She chuckled.

“I’m not helping you, I’m hurting Oakclan, there’s a difference!” The dark molly growled, tail thrashing.

Wolfstar barked out a laugh, slowly her mother’s tension lessened and she huffed a laugh too.

“Just, be reasonable with what you do give to the other clans.” She coughed to cover up her smirk. “Not too much but not too little.”

“Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

The pair stood awkwardly as they watched the clans finish setting up, the little drizzle of rain slowing down to a drip.

“I’m gonna go play some Paw n Prey, if you wanna join me.” Wolfstar gestured to the Duskclan elders setting up the three cups for the game.

“Perhaps later.” Jaggedstar said dismissively, eyes sharp as she looked over the clearing. “I’m going to go find Thornstrike. I don’t see him.”

Wolfstar nodded at the older cat, her steps slow as she walked away, hoping she’d change her mind. Finally as she got a few tail lengths away, her pace quickened. By the time she reached the trio of elders, a small crowd had gather, a diverse mix of age and clan origin.

She sat between an Oakclan tom and Honeyclan gib, waiting for her turn.

“Wolfpaw?” A voice to her left called out, she wanted to turn on instinct but kept her gaze locked forward.

“She’s Wolfstar, you idiot don’t be rude.” An older voice hissed and she heard a firm thump, finally her curiosity made her turn to look.

Sparkpaw sat, her large figure hunched over, rubbing her ear after the harsh smack her mentor gave her. Stoatfang sat beside her, a fierce image despite her small frame, she glared at the apprentice before flicking an ear and turning to the group, most of which watching openly.

“Wolfstar.” The older warrior nodded at her.

“Stoatfang.” She nodded back, awkwardly glancing around as she tried to think of what to say.

Thankfully the elders running the game announced they were taking bets, they made a show of placing the roasted beech but under one cup and began to shuffle the trio. Wolfstar had nothing to bet, but bragging rights were still on the table and she was glad for the distraction.

Inkpath waited until everyone either made their claim or placed a bet before revealing the cups one by one. Wolfstar, like many, had picked the left most cup, which unfortunately came up empty. Grumbles broke out amongst the group, but no one strayed, eager for the next game.

Several rounds went by, Wolfstar winning several and enjoying a delicious beech nut for her efforts. A few cats mumbled accusations of cheating under their breathes, but she ignored them. Sparkpaw after the third round wandered off, though her mentor was too engulf in the games to notice.

It was nearly sun high when the games paused, everyone yawning and feeling the need to rest. Wolfstar felt a prickle of panic set in, she was exhausted and could use the nap, but she worried about having a nightmare around so many cats. Even her own clan didn’t know the extent of her restless sleep.

As cats began hunkering down, sleeping near the warm fires or under bushes as pairs or trios, Wolfstar made her rounds to check on her clan mates. Burnpaw was tending the soup, adding in salt and toasted sage. Snowspeckle was speaking with some artisans, already settled down to rest. And Lynxpaw was tucked near Mousefoot and Rosedrift, eyes wide and head nodding.

Everyone seemed busy, perhaps she could sneak off to a spot outside of the clearing to nap. The brisk winds and barely there drizzle made the idea less than appealing, even the idea of trudging all the way back to camp for rest seemed better.

“Hey, uh hey Wolfstar,” Burnpaw interrupted her internal debate. “I saved a spot for you to rest.”

She glanced back not realizing she’d walked right by him in her contemplation. An older tom had taken over stirring, likely to relieve him for a nap, well deserved given how most of the other cooks had ditched him for games and socializing.

“Here it’s towards the edge over here.” He waved her over with his tail.

She trailed behind him, letting him lead her past the edge of the clearing into the thick woods. Just past the tree line there was a shallow dip in the dead grass and an evergreen bush, making a modest den between them. He stood beside the entrance as she inspected it, there were several small pelts already laid down and an unlit torch sat a few tail lengths in front of the entrance.

“Thank you.” She gave him a fond lick, earnest in her gratitude. It was perfect, far enough away, but well sheltered from the cold and lined with pelts for added heat. Even the ground around the torch was clawed away so only dirt and rocks encircled it. “You put a lot of effort here. I appreciate it.”

The red tom ducked his head to the side, dodging her praise and licks. His paws crunched the ground under him as he danced in place nervously.

“Well I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping the past couple moons so I figured you’d want a more secluded spot to nap.” He mumbled. “In case you have a bad dream.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, a chill sweeping up her spine.

“Huh?” He looked at her now, confusion pushing his nervousness back.

“How do you know I don’t sleep well? Or that I have nightmares?” She asked, eyes narrowed.

“Oh I don’t know, it’s just obvious I guess.” He shrugged.

“Do you hear me at night?”

“What? No never.”

“Do I seem more tired or upset?”

“Not really. I mean you seem tired but not like lethargic.”

“Then how do you know?” She wanted to hiss, feeing exposed and surprised.

“I don’t know.” He seemed helpless to explain himself, but her hackles raising seemed to give him the words. “I just know when someone isn’t sleeping well or if they have good or bad dreams. I just wake up and know ‘oh Wolfstar had a nightmare’ or ‘Lynxpaw slept deeply’. You know?”

“Have you always been able to tell someone’s sleep and dreams just like that?” She asked, feeling slightly better she wasn’t the only one.

“Yeah, when I lived in the apprentice den in Duskclan I could even guess what someone dreamt of. Like hunting or drowning.” He shrugged.

“Did Darkfold know?”

“Yeah but she told me to stop telling others, that it’s invasive and rude. So I try not to, but I can’t help it.” He sighed, like he was disappointed in himself. “She thought I’d grow out of it, like kits do when they sometimes see Starclan cats, I never told her I didn’t.”

That’s why he never said anything. She thought. Makes me wonder what Darkfold was hiding that she didn’t want him poking around.

Wolfstar had heard of cats who could walk dreams, but she’d always thought those cats would be clerics or at least spiritual. Burnpaw didn’t seem like the type, but maybe she should pay him more attention.

“Have you told anyone about my nightmares?” She asked, letting out a deep sigh and closing her eyes. Trying to will her heartbeat down.

“No, I didn’t wanna overstep.” He mumbled again, shifting awkwardly again.

“It’s alright. I didn’t know you knew, thank you for making me this nest.” She opened her eyes again and tried to smile. “Would you like to share tongues for a bit and rest?”

He smiled brightly, eyes squinting.

“Really? You’re ok if I stay?”

“Of course, you found the den you should be allowed to sleep here too.” She entered the brush, crouching low. She definitely preferred her den to the brushy walls, the smooth rock and solid trunk draped with lichen was spacious but easy to heat. But the low height was worth the privacy, she decided as she draped a pelt over herself.

Burnpaw lit the torch before he followed behind her, settling close so they could groom each other. She pushed her blanket back so he could work on her pelt as well.

They didn’t speak much as they groomed, working out tangles and smoothing wind blown fur. She felt herself calming down enough to actually rest, at one point she laid her chin on his paws, nearly asleep. His purrs quieted as he pulled the pelt over her again, staying sat up to watch the torch from their nest.

Wolfstar’s sleep is fitful and short, she’s almost bored with how predictable the sequence is. She’s in the dark, the acrid smell hits her, then the sounds overwhelm her ears, then she sees the odd eyes. If she wasn’t so gripped with involuntary fear she’d yawn. But the terror has an unshakeable hold on her like always and she’s panting and fighting to breathe.

“Shhhhh it’s okay, it’s me. Just breathe.” A squeaky voice purred in her ear. She went to swat at it but her paws felt like they were filled with sand, a nose pressed into her cheek fur. “You’re safe, breathe in and out.”

Slowly, she blinked, taking breathes in and out with him. Her mind faded into consciousness again and she pressed back against Burnpaw, their ribs pressed together.

The torch outside had dwindled a little, not much time had passed, most of the festival would still be napping or lazing about. She stared at the fire and breathed in her friend’s scent.

“Sorry.” Her voice was hoarse, had she been shouting?

“It’s ok.” He said quickly, pulling back slightly.

She sighed and rested her chin on her paws, staring out into the cold.

“Do you always dream about red and green eyes?” He asked, her head popped up.

“You saw it too?”

“Yeah.”

“What else did you see? I have the same nightmare over and over, maybe you saw something I missed.”

“Well it was dark and strange smelling, kinda reminded me of a monster. There was a lot of clanking and screaming from other cats.”

She fell back down with a sigh.

“Yeah that’s what I got too.”

The pair sat in silence for a while, until Wolfstar decided to get up and return to the festival. Together they bundled up the pelts and snuffed out the torch. As they reached the clearing she stopped him before he could rejoin the camp keepers.

“Thank you for resting with me, I really appreciate it.” She bumped her head against his, he tried to duck away but she circled around and bumped him anyways. They giggled for a moment before his face got serious. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone else is dreaming about red and green eyes.” He twisted his head around, eyes searching.

“Wait what? Who?”

“I don’t know, I can’t tell there’s too many cats.” He turned each way, as if it would help him ascertain who it was.

Burnpaw wandered around, looking for sleeping cats, they stumbled across many pairs and trios of cats sleeping.

“It’s no use.” He growled, surprising her with his intensity. “I can’t find it.”

“It’s alright, thank you for trying.” She couldn’t help the disappointment in her voice.

The rest of the festival was fun, she met up with her brother Greyclaw and played Red Fall for fish jerky. She spoke with Archstar again and told him she’d speak with his head artisan about what help Oakclan would contribute. The silver leader surprisingly gave in without a fight, just a grin on their face.

The skits put on my Oakclan’s apprentices was nice, telling the exaggerated story of the first lead Oakstar and his life before earning his nine lives. They had Tanglerfur play the role of Oakstar’s father, Oak, and Tawnyclaw played his mother, Moth. Otherwise the entire cast was apprentices.

Mousefoot and Lynxpaw spent most of the festival together, practicing clerical duties until finally Wolfstar had enough and dragged the apprentice away to gamble with her. They spent the evening playing Paw and Prey until the evening feast of roasted boar and stewed bird was served. Burnpaw joined them after serving his clan.

It was very late evening when the clan finally gathered their things and returned to camp. The kits already asleep and Shadowdive standing guard to greet them as they arrived.

Leaf bare was in full swing when Wolfstar departs for the western most border. The half bridge and two leg place slowly coming into view as she crossed the rocky coast. Most of the sand is dark and coarse, with nearly black jagged rocks jutting out closer and closer together as she goes.

She stays well away from the waves, wishing she had better cover from the blistering winds, it tears through her pelt like claws. The cold keeps the sand wetter than normal and frosty too, she can feel herself sink into the sand each step with a loud crunch. The sound makes her flinch, grateful she isn’t hunting.

The tide pools Shadowdive likes to frequent makes her straddle the rocky cliffs, darting amongst the slick rocks carefully. It was here where Shadowdive sprained his paw, scavenging in the pools on an early leaf fall morning, frost making the rocks slick and dangerous. He was still nursing the injury, keeping weight off of it and taking his herbs like he was told, though Wolfstar suspects he’s a reluctant patient.

His injury has put them in a small bind, luckily Snowspeckle is able to hunt and work in his place while he kit sat for her. Still, without the powerhouse of a tom, the clan was eating more food than they could catch. Burnpaw and Snowspeckle hadn’t really been able to prep a lot of meat ahead of the freeze and what little they had stored was already being used to compensate.

Wolfstar and Snowspeckle were the last to eat, feeding the kits first, then the keeper, then cleric, then the reluctant Shadowdive, then themselves. It reminded her of the early days of Saltclan, hunger driving her forward, it gave her an edge to hone in and focus on her tasks.

For this morning, however, her only task was marking the western most border. Rarely did they have issues with loners over stepping, this area of the coast not desirable for most wanderers, but it was good to keep up the boundary. So once every other day, a solo patrol would head out, mark then return to camp for another assignment.

The white molly approached the large wall of rocks and edge of the half bridge. Truly a cat had to be lost or desperate to try and cross here, the rocks were difficult to scale even in warm seasons let alone with frost and snow. Even at low tide the waters covered up the underside to the half bridge, allowing the water to meet the rocky cliffs the two leg nest sat atop of.

The rocks and water stayed locked together for many tail lengths until finally on the other side, barely visible from where she stood, there was a break and the sandy coast was present again. No cat was swimming that distance without significant risk, same with the rocky slope, they had to come too close to the two leg nest and Honeyclan’s border to make the climb.

Wolfstar let her mind go blank as she marked a few spots.

Until the sound of paws steps traipsing around just above her broke her out of her musings.

She whirled around, hackles up as she kept her eyes on the tops of the rocks. A feline face finally peeked over the edge, mottled calico with bright eyes that locked on Wolfstar. The cat smiled widely and climbed closer to the edge, nearly falling over.

“Stop! You’re about to enter Saltclan’s territory, you must turn back now!” She called out, fur fluffed up and claws out.

“I know!” The cat called out, still smiling.

“Stop!” She snarled again, wishing she could pin the cat to the spot with her glare.

Thankfully the calico slows down and waits, eyes wide and watching.

“State your business.” She ordered.

“I’m here to join your clan!” The cat answered, now restarting their movements and making their way down.

“Um ok, uh why? Where do you come from and how did you know about us?” Wolfstar stumbled over her words effectively off balance. She’d never met a loner who was so…eager to join the clans.

“I used to live with my housefolk, but I left because I heard stories about the clans.” They said, coming closer, scent wafting over Wolfstar finally.

The calico smelled like a molly, though before Wolfstar could even respond, the cat cut in again.

“Don’t get any ideas! I’m a tom cat!” He glared, eyes sharp, losing that excited shine. Instantly Wolfstar wanted the jovial look back.

“Ok, I’m a molly. My name is Wolfstar, I’m leader of Saltclan.” She politely bowed her head, the cat perked up and smiled.

“Wow the leader! I’m so lucky I ran into you.“ He chirped. “You clan cats really are accepting of cats like me.”

“What shifted cats? Yeah, it’s pretty common.” She tilted her head in confusion. “Did cats not know that where you come from?”

The cat seems to pause.

“There wasn’t a lot of cats around my house, everyone laughed when I said I was a tom. Then they got mad when I kept saying it. After a while I got sick of the teasing and mean looks. So I left.” His voice was soft, barely audible above the winds. “I heard from some other cats about the clans and one of them suggested I join Saltclan. They said that you have medicine and herbs that could make me feel more like myself.”

“Really? Who?”

“Capri and her granddaughter Jade.” Finally the cat climbed down to the last large rock, only a small leap from being equal with Wolfstar.

Instantly, her face lit up.

“Oh! Capri and Jade sent you?” All tension left from her body. “I haven’t been able to visit them for a while, are they doing ok?”

“They’re fabulous and living out in the barn the twolegs keep their water monsters in. It’s very warm, I was tempted to stay but I wanted to come to Saltclan.”

“Well clan life isn’t easy, we have to hunt for our food and fight to protect our borders. It takes a lot of work and you’re coming to us in leaf bare, it’ll be especially tough. We’re a small clan, we can’t afford to shelter anyone who can’t contribute.” Wolfstar fell solemn, the delight she felt hearing of her friends shifted back to a serious tone. “Can you hunt?”

“I hunted all the time with my housefolk!” The cat boasted. “I was in charge of killing all the bugs that came into the house.”

Wolfstar wanted to sigh, the little glimmer of hope snuffed out. Still she may as well humor the tom before sending him back to Capri.

“Not quite the same, but how about we hunt together. If you catch something, you can stay. If not, you’ll need to leave.” She said firmly, expecting some pouting and arguing.

“Deal!” He seemed smug, like he’d already joined.

He leapt down, crunching into the sand with his heavy body. Wolfstar took a moment to look him over, he had a heavy coat with a thick frame underneath, his paws were large. Other than his scent he looked like a tom cat either born or shifted.

She led the outsider back up the rocky walls, surprised he didn’t complain about having to traverse back up after just getting down. Once at the top they walked around the two leg nest and barn until they reached a small open field squished between the thunder path and more two leg nests.

It wasn’t the most substantial area to hunt on, but making the cat try to prove himself by fishing in the cold, frigid waters seemed unfair. The alternative was leading a stranger through the majority of the clan’s territory just to reach the grassy fields to the north east of their lands. The scrubby grass, battered by wind and carrion would have to do.

At the edge of the tall, dry grass she let him take the lead. He stalked fairly quiet, taking care to avoid patches that would crunch loudly. Once they reached the middle of the field they came to a halt, his nose twitching and ears moving. Wolfstar already knew what he was trying to hone in on, a large shrew, just a few tail lengths ahead was digging in the hard dirt.

It took a moment longer for him to finally pin point the prey, his ears swiveling to the exact spot. He launched quickly, quiet until he landed, crushing the grass and prey under him with a heavy paw.

The way he flaunted the shrew made her laugh, just like a kit who caught a feather, he flapped the limp prey at her as he passed. As she was about to scold him on treating prey well, he gentle placed the shrew down and covered it with a thin layer of dirt and foliage.

“Thank you little shrew. I’m sure you’ll be delicious.” He patted the mound with a wide grin before turning to her. “I think I heard a bird further up by the fence.”

He started to walk deeper into the field, but Wolfstar stopped him with a laugh.

“What?” He asked, immediately pulling back to her.

“Let’s head back to camp and get you settled.” She chuckled.

“Don’t you wanna see me hunt more?” He asked, genuinely confused.

Just like Shadowdive, she snorted.

“Deals a deal, you caught something, you can stay until we officially have you join the clan.” She explained, brushing the dirt off of the shrew. “Plus this isn’t our territory, it’s best to leave plenty of resources to the other predators that live around here.”

“Huh, I wouldn’t have thought of that.” He picked up the shrew.

“It’s one of our rules, there’s a lot of them. Once you join you’ll be expected to learn and follow them, we call it the warrior code.” She said, his mouth was full so the only response was his wide, bright eyes.

The pair trotted back to the rocks to enter Saltclan, taking their time down the slick rocks. Finally on the sand she turned to him.

“Before we go.” She stopped him from walking ahead. “You never said your name.”

He sat the shrew down to answer.

“It was Penny, but I’d like to take a warrior name like you.”

“What would you like to be named?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, still grinning. “You pick, you’re in charge.”

“Hmmmm.” She took a moment to appraise him, thinking through various combinations. Somehow thinking of a full name was easier than matching a prefix to a suffix, she had no idea what to name the kits or Burnpaw.

But with this cat, it seemed obvious.

“Fennelheart.” She said proudly, he cocked his head, likely not understanding the prefix.

But Wolfstar knew, when he got to the clerics den and received his first dose of shifting herbs, he’d understand.

Fennelheart’s introduction into the clan went smoothly, the tom was confident and charming, greeting his new clan mates with a wide smile. He seemed particularly dazzled by Shadowdive, following him with reverence throughout the camp. Shadowdive, for his part, mostly ignored the new cat, but when they did speak he was surprisingly tolerant of the former kittypet.

Lynxpaw had started him on shifting herbs, primarily fennel, and seemed to like the tom’s banter. They would spend most of the evenings together, Fennelheart very curious about their medical abilities.

While Burnpaw was naturally shy and easily flustered, he didn’t complain as he explained fire and cooking to their newest addition. It helped that Fennelheart praised his cooking and was eager to help.

Since he was new, he wasn’t allowed to roam about the territory just yet, usually he’d go hunting with Wolfstar. He was a surprisingly good hunter, his fishing skills were lack luster, but the clan could live with more rodent and birds in their diet for a while.

The first few days had gone so well, Wolfstar was ready to official invite him into the clan, she only need to speak with her deputy.

“Do you think I’m being too hasty?” She asked Snowspeckle one morning, the pair on their way to gather crafting supplies by the abandoned nest. “What if I’m rushing this?”

The snow was piling up but the artisan had insisted she could find supplies. They pushed through the powdery snow, keeping a brisk pace.

“I don’t know if we can afford to take our time, we need the help. Lynxpaw still hasn’t cleared Shadowdive to return to his full work.” Snowspeckle replied.

“Don’t you think that should make us slow down? I mean, what if this was all planned? He shows up in leafbare when we need help the most?” She knew she sounded paranoid, but around the older molly she felt safe enough to voice her nervous thoughts.

“No offense to Fennelheart, but he’s not exactly the sneaky type. He still tries to eat raw prey.” She chuckled. “Plus didn’t he say he came to us to find tolerance and safety? Sounds familiar right?”

“Heh yeah, you’re right.” Wolfstar’s laugh turned into a tense shiver, breathing in the cold air too fast. “I’ll speak with Lynxpaw before the half moon, ask for her to reflect on his arrival during her visit to the moon spring.”

They made it to the old twoleg nest, it reeked of Duskclan, but the clearing was empty. While the snow was still banking in some spots, the large branches and old structure blocked most of it and they could paw at the bare ground.

“Great idea, now help me dig up these roots.” The artisan patted the dirt surrounding a young spruce tree.

The pair worked in pleasant silence throughout the morning and well past sun high. They only had to dig a few pawfuls down to pull up spruce roots for cordage. Then they found a downed birch tree, usually harvesting the white barked trees was reserved for new leaf, but the bark was much easier to peel now that it was felled.

While Snowspeckle inspected various rocks, Wolfstar took time to mark the borders.

“Ugh every time I come here the border is fucked up.” She hissed as she clawed a tree.

“I’m surprised we haven’t run into them, no matter what time I visit the border is remarked.” Snowspeckle added, digging a rock out of the cold ground.

“They have enough warriors they could send someone six times a day easily.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t shown up now, we’ve been here so long. It’s like they don’t want to fight.” Snowspeckle mumbled as she lift the rock into her basket. “Which is fine by me, we can’t afford any injuries.”

Wolfstar didn’t answer, she suspected she knew why they’d never encountered the other clan. Jaggedstar knew just as well as she did that Saltclan was at a vast disadvantage numbers wise. Duskclan could easily take out their patrols, even if they had the full clan. But they didn’t.

Her tail twitched and she wasn’t sure if she was angry or relieved at her mother’s hypocrisy.

“Well I guess we’ll just keeping praying to Starclan we don’t have a confrontation.” Snowspeckle eventually said, eyeing her stiff leader.

Wolfstar shook her coat out with a huff.

“I was gonna try to hunt but the place stinks of cat so much I can’t get a scent on anything.” She grouched. “Let’s head back.”

The walk back was quiet and slow, snow beginning to fall. Without any historians to help with weather predictions and patterns, the clan had no way to know when a snowstorm or blizzard would hit. The unofficial rule was when the snow starts up, head to the clan.

“Have you thought anymore about what role your sons would be best for?” Wolfstar asked as they neared the camp.

“I’ve been watching how they play and what stories they like, but lately neither of them seem interested in anything but whatever Shadowdive is doing.” She huffed. “I wish one of them would be interested in artisan work, but they are very uninterested.”

“I plan to ask them before their apprenticeship, but I think they’ll choose to be warriors.” The leader smiled. “In that case, Shadowdive will obviously mentor one. Do you want to mentor one too?”

“Oh stars no! I’ve done my time, it’s someone else’s turn to handle them.” She laughed deeply. “I know Shadowdive will be a good mentor.”

“I figured you’d wanna skip that, in that case I’ll obviously take the other one.”

“I’m glad, you’ll be good for them, you already are.”

The pair bumped heads, tails twined as they entered the camp. The only cat in the camp was Shadowdive, he had his injured paw in the tide pools, working on his stretches like Lynxpaw told him. Mousefoot had even visited to show him how to do them.

Wolfstar slipped her basket off her neck and sat it beside the unlit oven. She peeked into the cleric den, seeing Lynxpaw sorting herbs. Snowspeckle began to organize the supplies they brought back.

Wolfstar took a look into the apprentice den, expecting to see Burnpaw, when it was empty she quickly checked the warrior den. Inside he was curled up next to Fennelheart, their backs touching.

She glanced back to Shadowdive, still working on his paw.

“Where are the kits?” She asked.

He glanced up with a sour expression, the cold water making him grumpy.

“With Lynxpaw.” He said, Snowspeckle’s head popped up.

“Lynxpaw are the kits in there with you?” The queen called out.

“No? They were napping with Burnpaw and Fennelheart.” Lynxpaw stepped out of her cave.

Wolfstar entered the warrior’s den, the shouting slowly waking up both toms. She checked under the pelts, no sign of the kits.

“What’s going on?” Fennelheart asks as Burnpaw leaps to his feet, fur fluffed up.

“When did you last see the kits?” Wolfstar asked him, behind her Shadowdive ran to check the nursery and other dens.

“Before our nap, they were gonna join us but then they said they wanted to wait for Shadowdive.” He said stepping out to around the camp.

“They’re not in camp!” Snowspeckle cried, head whipping around. “Where could they have gone? Oh Starclan it’s snowing they could be anywhere.”

“There’s no outsider scents, but I can’t find a trail for the kits.” Shadowdive said.

Wolfstar leapt onto a large rock atop the warrior’s den.

“Everyone! Remain calm, the kits likely snuck out and have been gone a while.” She yowled, pulling the groups focus. “We must find them soon, we will pair up and search the territory.”

Pointing to each cat she began to pair them up.

Snowspeckle and Burnpaw.

Wolfstar and Lynxpaw.

Shadowdive and Fennelheart.

“Should someone stay here in case they return?” Lynxpaw asked.

“No its best for everyone to have backup just in case.” Wolfstar jumped down, eyes focused.

The teams set off immediately, Wolfstar and Lynxpaw headed east up the coast line and towards the abandoned nest. Shadowdive and Fennelheart up north filling the east river to the border. Snowspeckle and Burnpaw went west towards the half bridge.

Shadowdive moved slowly, his sprain painful in the cold, but Fennelheart didn’t seem to notice. The calico tom sprinting ahead in the flurry, he’d turn back when he was just out of sight. This pattern continued, he’d search ahead of the dark cat, returning back when called.

The pair slowly worked their way up the river before reaching the Duskclan border, it was difficult to tell based in scent, but Shadowdive recognized claw marks on the tree trunks.

“Follow the tree line, of we don’t find them before the twoleg nest, we’ll search the forest.” He ordered.

Fennelheart paused.

“That’s not what Wolfstar told us to do.” He hesitated.

“She can yell at me later, we’re finding those kits.” Shadowdive snarled, pushing past the calico to trudge through the snow, ignoring the stinging in his paws.

Fennelheart remained quiet as he ran behind the larger tom, paws crunching the thick snow. He sped past his companion, taking off down the border line.

“Shadowdive! Come here!” Fennelheart called out, Shadowdive hissed as he sprinted, pushing past his pain as he leapt over a snowbank.

Fennelheart was standing upright with his paws on the bark of a dead tree, his eyes locked on the upper branches. Shadowdive had to shake the snow out of his whiskers to see Otterkit clinging to the trunk.

Getting closer he could see Ripplekit, the pair were practically covered in snow, yowling and crying.

“It’s ok we’re here!” Shadowdive called out, Otterkit’s head turned, big teary eyes locked on the brown tabby. “I’ll get them, be ready to help catch.” He ordered Fennelheart who nodded.

Gathering his frozen paws under him, Shadowdive launched himself up the trunk. The wood crunched under his weight, shaking the tree.

“Shit,” He spat, letting himself fall back to the ground, taking care not to land on his injured leg. “I’m too heavy.”

“Let me try.” Fennelheart jumped up the trunk, not getting far before the trunk began to splinter as well. He tumbled back down to the ground. “What do we do?”

“They’re up too high, damnit, you need to run and grab the others. As fast as you can go back to camp, at least one team should’ve returned by now.” His chest felt tight. “The storm is blowing from the south over the ocean, run into the wind and you’ll make it to the coast.”

If Fennelheart responded, he ran off too fast for Shadowdive to hear it. The brown tabby tom stayed at the base of the tree, eyes locked on the trembling kits.

“Shadowdive.” He could hear Otterkit’s sniffles.

“It’s ok brat, I’m here. You’re gonna be ok.” He tried to purr soothingly, but the rumbling comfort was lost in the winds. “Try to huddle together for warmth.”

Fennelheart ran fast south, the wing and snow stinging his eyes. His legs felt like ice and he could barely feel his ears.

It felt like he’d been running forever before he finally crashed into camp, so snow blind he didn’t even see it before tumbling over the walls. He landed with a grunt in the sand, coughing the grit up he scrambled to his feet.

“Fennelheart?” Snowspeckle yelped as he spun around, she and Burnpaw were the only team that’s returned. “What happened?”

“The kit-“ He coughed and gagged, Burnpaw stepped forward to help him. “They’re at the border up a dead tree, Shadowdive and I are too heavy to climb it!”

As the three left, they ran into Wolfstar and Lynxpaw, the final pair to return. Quickly they joined the group and followed the calico north.

It took a while to find the tree, they could barely see, but soon they could hear Shadowdive’s shouts. Gathering around the trunk, Wolfstar tested the trunks, it was shaky and easily swayed.

“Burnpaw, climb up to grab them, you’re the lightest of us.” She instructed him, he looked nervously between her and Snowspeckle. “Hurry, we can’t risk anyone else damaging it.”

Hesitantly, the red tabby began climbing, claws digging into the icy wood. He worked his way up the rickety trunk slowly. Otterkit clung to the trunk, unable to crawl to meet him, shivering so much he nearly lost his grip.

Burnpaw grabbed him by his scruff, alarmed by how cold he felt and tried to beckon Ripplekit closer. But the white kits eyes were screwed shut and he stayed frozen in place. Slowly Burnpaw climbed back downwards, holding the kit between his chest and the tree.

When he got close enough he passed the kit down to Lynxpaw who took him and ran back to camp with him and Fennelheart for treatment. Snowspeckle stayed behind, watching Ripplekit with wide eyes and circling the trunk.

With more confidence, Burnpaw climbed back up.

“Ripplekit! Ripplekit!” He called out, but the kit didn’t seem to hear him.

He crawled onto the branch more, but the wood crunched and shakes under his weight. He could hear gasps bellow him, but the shaking did make the kit’s eyes snap open. As soon as he locked on Burnpaw’s face, Ripplekit launched himself across the branch.

Burnpaw grabbed his scruff and yanked him down just as the tree began to shake and splinter. The two fell to the ground, Burnpaw managing to land roughly on his feet, still clutching Ripplekit.

The group flocks around him as Snowspeckle takes her kit and runs ahead home. Wolfstar following after her, leaving Shadowdive and Burnpaw to hobble home together.

Burnpaw felt like his entire body was sore and rattled, while Shadowdive’s sprain felt the worst it ever had. It was the first time they’d been alone together since Burnpaw had joined the clan. The tense silence punctuated by the stifling cold.

“That was good… what you did. That was brave.” Shadowdive finally said, surprising the apprentice.

“Th-thanks, that me-means a lot coming from you.” Burnpaw stuttered, the chill making his teeth chatter.

Shadowdive scoffed, jaw tense as he glared ahead into the snowy white. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Burnpaw wanted to argue, to say that it really did mean a lot that it was him who praised him. He wanted to tell the larger tom how brave he thought he was, how he climbed that tree because he knew it was what Shadowdive would’ve done.

But instead he let the words die in his throat, the world getting darker as night fell.

That night, Lynxpaw treated the kits with warm soup and fire warmed pelts in her den. She put plenty of burdock root and fennel seeds in their bowls to help heat them up. Snowspeckle spent the evening grooming and rubbing them, to get their blood circulating.

Wolfstar cooked that night, making a quick rabbit and seaweed soup with prey Burnpaw had been prepping. Adding flax to thickened it up and warming herbs as well, she served the clan while they waited to be checked out by Lynxpaw.

Fennelheart’s body was sore and covered in bruises from his fall into camp, though he insisted her didn’t need any care and returned to the warrior den with his soup quickly. She still gave him some comfrey to place in his nest to help soothe his bruises. Burnpaw thankfully was uninjured, just some sore joints from his landing. Lynxpaw gave him some daisy leaf oil and heather honey.

Shadowdive’s wrist was swollen and hot to the touch, she gave him more herbs and placed a cooling balm of chamomile and lavender on it. He protested the treatment and even tried to go to his nest, but Wolfstar dragged him by his scruff back. The cooling balm was uncomfortable and he disliked how chilly it felt, but perked up when Wolfstar suggested everyone sleep in the nursery together to stay warm. Given how it was the most insulated den and had majority of the pelts, everyone agreed.

Gathering the clan inside, she kept Fennelheart, Burnpaw, and the kits in the center, her and Lynxpaw taking the spots by the entrance. Shadowdive ignored her suggestion to stay towards the back, instead pushing himself into her nest, pressing himself to her side purring loudly. Lynxpaw tucked herself in the nest on his other side, tucking her nose into her bushy tail.

Tomorrow, the kits will be scolded, made to explain why’d they’d done what they did and to promise never to do it again. Otterkit will cry and ask if they’ll not be made apprentices, only quieting down when Wolfstar steps in. Ripplekit will be extra quiet, complain his ears are too cold and sulk in the den.

But tonight, in the warmth of the den, the clan can breathe a sigh of relief.

[himluv]

The Intervention

Here's the next chapter of Say My Name (Say it Twice)! Enjoy some more Neve and Bellara, and of course Lucanis and Spite.

Lucanis sat on the cot in Neve’s study, one arm over his chest, the other gently swirling a steaming cup of coffee. That was his only defense against the women staring him down. Neve sat behind her desk watching him with a little smirk on her lips, while Bellara leaned against the front of the desk with both arms crossed and a frown on her face. 

Spite sat perched on one of Neve’s bookcases, swatting at wisps like a cat after fireflies.

Lucanis bit back a smile at the demon’s antics, then returned his attention to Bellara. “All right,” he said. “You wanted to talk.”

Neve rolled her eyes. “To be clear, Bel wanted to talk. I’m just… facilitating.”

“Right,” Bellara said, nodding. Then she scowled at Lucanis. “What’s going on with you and Rook?”

He sighed and fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Nothing,” he said. 

Neve raised an eyebrow at him. “So, we just imagined all those heated glances over dinner the other night?”

Lucanis shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Then how do you explain what happened in the Crossroads the other day?” Bellara asked. 

He shook his head. “You’ll have to ask Rook about that.”

“I did.” She frowned. 

“And?” He could tell from her face that she hadn’t liked Rook’s answer. 

“She told me not to worry about her and that she was handling it.”

Neve shook her head and gave him a wry smile. “Sounds familiar.”

“It sure does,” Bellara said. “Must be all that time she spends with you, Lucanis.” She glared at him. 

Lucanis took a drink of his coffee. “I told you, Bellara, it isn’t any more time than she spends with anyone else.”

Neve snorted. “And you believe that?”

“It’s the truth,” he said.

Both women just stared at him.

“What?”

Bellara rolled her eyes. “We have eyes, Lucanis.”

“And ears,” Neve said. “You’ve hardly been subtle.”

Lucanis went still, panic bubbling in his chest. “What do you mean?” Was he sending signals he wasn’t even aware of? Did the whole Lighthouse know how he felt about Rook? If they did… did Teia and Viago know, too? If they knew, then Illario surely did. 

Was Rook in danger because of him?

“You and Rook,” Neve said. “The banter, the heated looks when you think no one’s looking–”

”– the way you watch her back more than anyone else’s,” Bellara added. “And how you’re both so careful not to touch in front of anyone?”

Neve nodded. “That was a big tell. No one is that aware of another person if there isn’t something going on.”

Bellara laughed. “I know, right?” She turned back to Lucanis and her smile faded. “Oh.”

Lucanis felt the blood drain from his face as he realized that, yes, everyone did know how he felt about Rook.

Neve looked at him with surprise. “No,” she said. “There’s no way you thought that was subtle!”

“There’s nothing to be subtle about,” he said. “We’re just colleagues.”

Again, the women stared at him. 

“Friends,” he admitted. 

NO! Spite said from his perch. Rook. Is. More.

Neve and Bellara looked at him with such disbelief that Lucanis knew he was only trying to fool himself. “Fine,” he said. “I…” he sighed. “Like Rook.”

Neve smiled. “Now, doesn’t that feel better?”

He glared at her, but her smile only widened.

Bellara’s grin could outshine the sun. “How long have you two–”

“–We haven’t,” he said. “We aren’t…” he cleared his throat and knocked back the rest of his coffee, then set the cup on the floor between his feet. 

Bellara’s face fell. “Wait. What?” She and Neve shared a glance. “Why not?”

His mind spun with all the reasons. He was an abomination. He was damaged goods. He didn’t know the first thing about love, real love that wasn’t part of a romance novel. His cousin might be trying to kill him. He could barely sleep and when he did manage it, he still dreamed of the Ossuary. His hands knew only death, how could he trust them to cradle her heart?

Lu. Can. Is. 

He blinked, rousing from all those terrible, spiraling thoughts. Neve and Bellara were watching him, waiting for his response. “Rook deserves better.”

Neve sat back in her chair, packing her pipe. “And you get to decide that for her? Hardly seems fair.”

“The world isn’t fair,” he said. 

“True.” She lit her pipe with the snap of her fingers. She inhaled then breathed out a plume of fragrant smoke. “So, why do the world’s work for it?”

“I–” he ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “I can’t,” he said, his voice trembling.

“Ah,” Neve said. “The truth at last.”

Bellara looked between them, her brow furrowed. “You can’t what?”

Lucanis gave Neve a pleading look. A look that Bellara interpreted just as well. 

“But, Rook likes you!”

He couldn’t look at the elf. “I know.”

“You could be together!” Her voice hit a new pitch in her confused frustration. 

“I know, Bellara.” Did she think he didn’t know that? That he didn’t fantasize about holding Rook, about kissing her whenever he pleased, about sleeping in her arms?

“Then why won’t–”

“–Bel,” Neve said, her voice low. 

Lucanis felt pinned to the cot, his heart racing against his suddenly too-tight ribcage. He couldn’t breath, everything felt constricted. His blood thundered in his ears, he knew it was his blood, but it sounded like water. Like he was underwater. 

No! Spite seethed. Get out. We had a DEAL. Get out!

That familiar chill climbed up Lucanis’s spine. He shook his head, rolled his neck. “No,” he whispered. “Not now. Please.” He focused on his breath, controlling it as he cataloged the sensations around him. The aroma of coffee and pipe smoke, the rough brush of the linen blankets beneath him. The chatter of the wisps that floated around the room, oblivious to the turmoil inside him. 

“Lucanis?” Neve’s voice sounded far away, but firm. Real. Like a place he could land. 

He opened his eyes, only then realizing he had closed them. The first thing he saw was Neve, her dark eyes wide with concern. 

“I’m all right,” he said. His voice sounded far from all right, shaky and thin. He glanced at Bellara, who looked frightened. He gave her a fragile smile. “That is why,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Lucanis.” Her chin quivered and her eyes welled up. 

Lucanis didn’t think he could handle it if she cried. He held up a hand to ward off her concern, but said, “You’re doing my dishes for a week.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “I’ll do them for a month.”

He chuckled at that. “Even better,” he said. He glanced between the women. “Can we agree to leave my personal life be for awhile?”

Neve and Bellara both winced. “I think we can consider this case closed,” Neve said.

Bellara nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I am sorry, Lucanis.”

He nodded and picked up his cup. “I know, Bellara.” He stood and tilted his chin at them, then left for the dining hall. He needed the dim, close comfort of the pantry. He needed the smell of roasted coffee beans and wax candles. And though he knew the risks, Lucanis needed to sleep, even if just for an hour or two. 

Maybe then, with a little distance, everything that had just happened in Neve’s study wouldn’t seem so terrible.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Summary: “So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious. The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?”

___

Or: Leo and Jason meet Piper and Reyna’s daughter.

Written for @lost-trio-week day 5: Parents

Word Count: 3.8k

Rating: General Audiences

Gentle CW for mentions of childbirth and anxieties surrounding that topic. I personally think this warning might even be overkill, but as per usual with stuff like this, my rule is better safe than sorry.

This fic is once again dedicated to my friend @queenjunothegreat, because Em was originally her baby (shared custody next gen verse my beloved <3) and she was the one who came up with her name. They also came up with the fic title because I’m useless when it comes to titles lmaooo

Soft married Valgrace & Pipeyna. Also lost trio content, obviously, specific focus once again being Leo and Piper’s friendship (can you tell I care so so much about these idiots?)

———

Leo hated hospitals. A hospital was where he’d spent the first few days after his mom’s death, being treated for smoke inhalation, and it was where his first set of awful foster parents had picked him up. 

To say his memories of that time weren’t the fondest would have been the understatement of the century.

And sure, he knew in theory that this was different. New Rome Hospital had a really low death rate for anything that wasn’t battle-related injuries. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been a childbirth-related death here in a century. Realistically, he knew Piper was fine.

Still, the time the rather frazzled-looking Asclepius legacy that had greeted them was taking to figure out where she was and whether it was alright for her to have visitors made Leo’s anxious brain spiral in all kinds of unfun directions.

“Piper might still want to get back at us for the time we both died on her,” he told Jason, anxiously wringing his hands.

His husband raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t think she’d die out of spite ten years after the fact,” he commented, squeezing Leo’s hand. “Besides, Reyna said she was doing okay, and you know how she gets about Piper.”

And yeah, alright, that was a fair enough point, but Leo’s anxiety wasn’t exactly great at listening to reason. It never had been.

Nothing would calm him down until he’d seen with his own two eyes that Piper was doing okay.

“If we ever have a kid, we’re adopting,” he sighed into his husband’s shoulder. 

Jason laughed, nuzzling him gently before leaning down to kiss him.

Jason’s lips were a little scabbed from where he had anxiously chewed on them.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that, right?” Leo teased, grinning up at his husband. “Thank the gods I got rid of all the staplers, or you might have started chewing on those, too. We cannot have you set that kind of example for baby McLean.”

“Will you ever let that one go?” Jason groaned, rolling his eyes. “I was two.” 

“What kind of husband would I be if I did let it go, hm?” Leo asked, kissing him again.

Someone cleared their throat. A few years back, this might have made them jump apart like embarrassed children, but now, Leo pulled back slowly, eyes lingering on his husband a while longer.

He’d dragged Jason back out of the Underworld by the collar of his stupid school uniform when they’d been seventeen. He was allowed to be disgustingly in love in public. The people could deal.

The Asclepius legacy stood there again, staring down at his clipboard awkwardly. Leo was pretty sure the guy was younger than him—he looked barely older than twenty. 

“Room 201. I wouldn’t recommend staying long—mother and child are both exhausted and will need plenty of rest. And wash your hands before you-”

“Okay, yeah, we’re not complete idiots,” Leo interrupted him. He’d washed his hands four times since getting to the hospital, just because it had given him something to do. 

He was moving in an instant, dragging his husband along with him. Thankfully, his ankle had the decency not to be too much of an ass today.

“You’re going in the wrong direction,” Jason commented, voice tinged with amusement as he pulled him back the way they’d come. 

“Why do you know that?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just how much time did you spend here as a kid?”

Jason ignored him and kept walking.

~~~~

Leo wanted to knock on that stupid blue door. Really, he did.

So he wasn’t sure why it was that, instead of knocking, he stuffed his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and just stared at the door like a total idiot.

His outfit wasn’t fancy, but it was clean, which was more than could be said for the clothes he’d worn in the workshop earlier that day. He wasn’t as bad as his husband, who Leo had had to talk out of wearing a suit to the hospital because he was worried about making a good first impression, but he was suddenly worried that maybe he still smelled of motor oil. 

The kid would not remember, obviously, but he thought if the first thing he did was upset Piper’s baby, that would still suck. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if they didn’t like him.

Jason squeezed his shoulder. “Mi vida, you're gonna make a great uncle, you know that, right?”

“Duh. I’m incredible,” Leo announced, continuing to stare at the door. 

As always, his husband saw right through him—not that Leo was making it especially hard to do so right now.

“They’re gonna love you. I mean it.” Jason nudged him. “You’re great with the kids we help at the shelter.”

“I mean, I guess,” Leo mumbled, but his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. “If all else fails, I suppose I can always bribe them with candy once they’re a little older.”

Jason laughed, and Leo finally managed to make himself knock.

It was Reyna who opened the door. She wasn’t even the one who’d had the baby, but she still looked as much of a fucking disaster as Leo had ever seen her. She had deep rings under her reddened eyes and was wearing what Leo was decently sure were rumpled pajamas. Her hair had come loose from its usual neat braid and exploded in messy waves around her shoulders.

“It turns out my daughter is really fond of my hair,” Reyna explained dryly, but there was a softness in her eyes that was usually reserved for Piper. “Come in.”

She moved back to her wife’s bedside in an instant. 

Piper looked… honestly, Leo had seen her look way worse. Her safety scissors bob didn’t look a lot more messy than usual, if he was being honest. Her skin was sweat-damp and she was obviously exhausted, but no one had stabbed her or tried to cook her into soup, which was definitely a plus.

Well, that and the way she was smiling down at the tiny bundle in her arms.

“Hey Pipes,” Leo said, raising his hand in a ridiculous wave as he moved to stand at her side.

“Hey.” Piper smiled up at them. “Glad you guys could make it. I’d wave back, but I’m holding a baby right now, so.”

The baby was small, but in the way Leo assumed newborns usually were. She had just the slightest hint of dark hair and equally dark eyes and was dressed in a small orange onesie.

She was looking right at him.

“She’s got your nose.” Leo paused. “Well, a very tiny copy of your nose. You’ve kept your own nose, as far as I can tell.”

“You’re lucky I love you as much as I do,” Piper sighed, poking her daughter in the nose in question. “Your tío is a bit of an idiot, but you’re going to love him, too. Trust me.”

The baby cooed happily.

“Great.” Leo groaned dramatically. “I’m being bullied by a newborn.”

Piper laughed.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, though Leo knew the baby had about 95% of his husband’s attention right now.

Jason had been pulling faces at her literally since they’d walked in the door. 

He’d always been that way around kids, but babies were especially bad. They activated a protective, wildly affectionate parental instinct that Leo had to assume came from Jason’s wolf boy months because he definitely hadn’t gotten it from either of his parents.

It was endearing as hell, but had the unfortunate side effect that it had always made Leo think about a kid of their own, including back when he hadn’t felt even slightly ready for one.

“Exhausted. Content. A little embarrassed.” Piper burst into another fit of tired laughter. “I sort of yelled at my wife to get out. Twice. Which would have been fine, except I was apparently using charmspeak.”

“That you even told her to get out at all seems wildly unfair towards Reyna considering you guys didn’t even have sex,” Leo commented, raising an eyebrow at Piper. “This is, like, objectively not on her.”

Reyna snorted, which was always a massive win in Leo’s book. He’d had a hard time figuring out what sort of jokes made her laugh, and every time he managed, he felt immensely proud of himself.

“Nuh-uh,” Piper protested immediately. “Em may be a magic IVF baby, but she’s a magic IVF baby we both decided to have, so it’s still at least fifty percent Reyna’s fault.”

“That’s a responsibility I will gladly accept. She’s mine and she’s yours and I would not change that for anything in the world.” Reyna pressed a soft kiss to her wife’s forehead. Then she reached down towards her daughter. The baby happily grasped her fingers. 

Reyna’s usual serious expression had melted away into a smile that was so sweet Leo thought it’d give him a toothache. 

“Yeah, okay, we get it, you guys are adorable,” he commented, because he was a total hypocrite when it came to other people’s PDA. “But what I really want to know is how far out of the hospital you got before the charmspeak wore off.”

“The first time I realized by the end of the hallway. The second time I made it all the way out to the parking lot. How Piper had that kind of energy, I’ll never understand.” Reyna shook her head, a kind of quiet awe in her voice. “Though perhaps worse than me leaving for a few minutes was the fact that the second time it happened, it also affected the midwife.”

Jason abruptly stopped pulling faces at Em to look up at Piper with a horrified expression.

“That sounds terrifying. Are you okay?”

“It was scary as hell at the time.” Piper shrugged. “Looking back on it, it's mostly just funny.”

“You continue to be the strongest warrior I know,” Reyna told her fondly, leaning down to kiss her.

“Love, I was an absolute terror and you know it.” Piper beamed at her wife. “You are cute, though, so maybe I’ll allow it.”

“So, are you going to properly introduce us to your daughter anytime soon?” Leo teased, looking down at the newborn again. “I mean, baby McLean is cute, but it’s a bit on the nose as far as names go.”

“You called her Em, right?” Jason asked, apparently eager to get a good grade in uncle. He looked like he might genuinely explode if he didn’t get to hold the baby within the next three seconds, but also like he’d bravely bear that fate because he didn’t want to be rude. “What's that short for?”

“Technically, her name isn’t officially anything yet,” Piper told them, wiggling into a more comfortable sitting position. “But we’d like to name her Emilia, if Leo is okay with it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked from Piper to Reyna to the baby in utter confusion. “She’s your child. Why would you need my permission to name her anything?”

Piper quirked her eyebrows at him like the answer should be obvious.

The gears in his head ground to an abrupt halt. His vision started swimming with tears.

“You want to name your kid after me?” 

Leo hadn’t gone by Emilio since before he’d met Piper. He’d almost forgotten she knew his full name. 

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Piper told him, suddenly looking awkward. “I know why you don’t use the name for yourself, but I figured just naming her Lea might be confusing. Sorry, I probably should have asked you sooner. If you don’t want-”

“No, no, if you guys really want that, I’d be honored. But like- why?” he asked in utter disbelief. “Why me, out of all people?”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Piper said, smiling at him. “Because you’re brave and smart and the best person I know. Because you defied fate and found happiness despite all odds. Because I’ll be lucky if she grows up to be even a little bit like you.”

Leo turned to Reyna. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks. “You’re okay with that?”

Reyna nodded, her expression solemn. “If names really do have power, yours is the greatest blessing we can give her.”

Leo was absolutely bawling his eyes out. His husband wrapped an arm around his shaking shoulders and soothingly ran a hand up and down the length of his arm.

“She’s the luckiest kid in the universe,” Jason told him, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. 

Leo had thought himself a curse for most of his childhood. He’d gotten better about it in recent years, since he’d made peace with his mother’s death and led Jason back out of the Underworld, but the pain had never fully faded.

Piper and Reyna associating his name with joy—choosing it for their daughter to make sure she’d be happy —was hitting him on a level he couldn’t fully process. 

It had been one thing to know on a theoretical level that Piper wanted him to be her child’s godfather—minus the religious connotations. 

But this? To know his best friend not only trusted him with the smallest, most precious human being Leo had ever met, but that she trusted his name to keep her safe? He genuinely didn’t think he would ever recover from that.

“I love you guys,” he sniffled. “So much.”

He knew that was a deeply uncool reaction. Maybe he should have been all smug and braggy about the whole thing. Maybe he would be, later, once everything had properly sunken in.

But right now, he couldn’t stop crying.

”And we love you right back,” Piper said with a soft smile, leaning forward and holding her armful of curious baby out towards him. “You’re not getting out of holding your niece, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He sniffled. 

Leo had been terrified of holding Em basically since he knew she existed. He’d never been able to bring himself to hold Percy and Annabeth’s kid, despite all the times they’d babysat back in college. It had been easy enough to pass the job off to Jason, who loved holding babies.

That way, Leo could avoid any potential disasters. No way he could drop a baby he never even held, right?

He’d known that Piper wouldn’t let him get away with that when it came to her child, and that knowledge had scared the hell out of him for months. What if he screwed up? What if he did it wrong and somehow hurt the baby?

But Piper was holding Em out towards him, an expression of utter trust on her face, and Leo couldn’t do anything but reach out to take his tiny niece from her arms, trying to mirror the way Piper had held her.

Emilia stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. Her weight felt awkward in his arms.

“Gods, I’m totally messing this up, aren’t I?”

“You’re really not,” Piper reassured him. “Just make sure you’re supporting her head. Here, I’ll-” She tried to lean forward, but stopped, wincing.

“Hermosa, you’re supposed to be resting,” Reyna told her, voice firm and concerned. 

She was smiling at Leo, but she was also wringing her hands, watching him closely like maybe she was expecting him to drop her daughter. 

That made two of them.

Leo could easily picture her vaulting over the bed to catch her child if that happened, though that weirdly didn’t make him feel a lot better about the possibility.

“Don’t mind my lovely wife. Rey’s just nervous,” Piper whispered, patting his arm. “You’re the first person aside from us and the hospital staff who gets to hold Em.”

“If you’re trying to make me less nervous, reminding me that I’m messing up one of Emilia’s first experiences with being held was not the way to go,” Leo joked, trying to shift the baby in his arms. This was not very effective, seeing as he had no idea what he was doing.

“I can help, if you want,” Jason volunteered immediately. He waited for Leo to nod, then put his hands over Leo’s and carefully adjusted his hold on Em a bit. “Here. Just support her head a little more. You’re doing great, mi vida.”

Emilia’s weight felt a little less awkward in his arms now. Leo relaxed a fraction, smiling down at her.

“Thanks for the assist.” 

“Always.” Jason nuzzled Leo’s cheek. “You were barely even messing up. You just have a tendency to overthink things when you’re nervous.”

“Says the guy who almost came here in a suit,” Leo commented, but he didn’t look up. His entire focus was on the newborn in his arms. He was mesmerized.

“Hi, sobrinita.” He was still sniffling, but he hadn't made his niece cry yet, so he was counting that as a win. “Gods, you’re a literal baby and somehow I’m the one wailing at you. So much for decent first impressions, hm?”

Emilia cooed at him. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he agreed, nodding his head at his niece. Holding her grew easier with each passing moment. She was looking at him like he was the only person in the universe. 

Leo loved her immediately.

He couldn’t believe he’d been as anxious as he had about holding her. He couldn’t believe he’d almost made himself miss out on this.

 “Pipes, I hope you’re not expecting me to say no to her, ever, because I can tell you right now that it’s not gonna happen.”

Piper laughed. “Oh, please. Your job was never going to be responsible godfather. If that was what I was looking for, I’d have picked someone else.”

“We’re gonna get into so much trouble together,” he whispered to Em, grinning at her. 

This time, Emilia didn’t smile back at him. Instead she scrunched up her face and started crying.

Leo froze.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did, I was just-”

“Babies cry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Piper told him gently. “I can’t believe she’s been as quiet as she has since you two came in, honestly. This is the calmest she’s been since she was born.”

“Oh.” Leo had almost managed to stop crying, but that made him start up again. 

“She cried when I first held her, too,” Reyna told him. When he looked up at her, he could tell some of the tension had gone out of her shoulders, despite the fact that he’d just managed to upset her daughter. “I’m glad she’ll grow up knowing her emotions aren’t something to fear.”

Leo hadn’t even considered thinking about it like that, but it made sense that Reyna would. When he’d first met her, there would have been no way for him to tell if she’d cried—if she’d allowed herself to cry at all.

He looked at her red-rimmed eyes again, the expression on her face genuine and fond, and could immediately feel more tears running down his cheeks. He’d have walked over and hugged her this instant if it hadn’t been for the newborn in his arms.

“Yeah.” Leo sniffled. “Me too.”

He was pretty sure he hadn’t cried this many happy tears since Jason had started reciting his wedding vows in slightly awkward Spanish.

“Can I-” Jason asked, gesturing vaguely towards Emilia. When Leo and Piper both nodded, he took the baby into his own arms, rocking her gently. His expression immediately melted into the world’s softest smile.

Seeing them like this, Leo would have married him again in an instant.

“She’s probably overstimulated. This is the most people she’s ever met in her life,” Jason concluded once he’d managed to soothe her a little. 

“I get it. People are really overwhelming.” Leo wiped at his eyes. “I still can’t believe my stupid sewer rat face is, like, the fifth face this poor kid has ever seen. She did not need to be exposed to sewer rats this early in her life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your face,” Jason protested immediately. “I like your face.”

“You’re married to me. You’re supposed to say that,” Leo teased, but he still found himself smiling. “We should probably leave you guys for the day, hm? You three all look like you could use a nap.”

“As long as you promise you’ll be back soon,” Piper insisted, smiling up at them as Jason—very reluctantly—handed Emilia back to her. “Hi, sweetie. You’re a little sleepy, hm?”

Emilia yawned in agreement.

“You’re not getting rid of us that easily.” Leo grinned at his best friend.

“Thanks for coming here as soon as you did. And, you know, for all the other sappy stuff I’m not going to say right now because I think we’ve all cried enough for one day.”

“Yeah. Gotta save some of that for tomorrow,” Leo agreed, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. Then he reached out, gently pressing his finger into his niece’s palm. “Bye bye, Emilia. Be nice to your moms, okay?” 

Her hand closed into a fist, holding his finger tightly. 

Leo let out a startled laugh.

“She’s got excellent reflexes,” Reyna said proudly.

“Yeah, well, I guess that means we’re not leaving yet. I’m really not sure how I’ll ever get out of this finger trap without the ability to turn into an iguana.”

Both Piper and Jason immediately cracked up. Reyna just looked confused. Leo made a mental note to tell her that particular story some other time.

“Anything we should bring you tomorrow?” Jason asked. He looked Reyna over. “Do you want some clothes that aren’t, uh-”

“…pajamas?” Reyna laughed. “Yes. That would be great. I checked the hospital bag about fourteen times to make sure we’d packed everything we might need, but it somehow did not occur to me that we’d be leaving in the middle of the night, nor that I’d need to pack any clothes for myself.”

“I want a large coffee and the least healthy pastry you can find,” Piper said immediately. “Reyna has everything else covered.”

Leo laughed. He reluctantly removed his finger from Em’s grasp, linking his hand with his husband’s as they left.

And, well, if he spent the rest of the evening baking horrendously sugary pastries, that was nobody’s business but his own.

———

Fic Notes:

-Fun fact! I edited this at 3 am last night and then I didn’t even post it because I couldn’t think of a title. It is now, once again, 3 am. My sleep schedule is doing great, thanks for asking.

-The concept of “names have power” is so interesting to toy with specifically in a context like this. Because like, objectively, Leo has had a lot of bad stuff happen to him. He’d never even considered thinking of his name as a blessing before this. But few demigod or legacies lead easy lives, and in the end the thing that outweighs anything else is that he’s managed to find happiness, despite the odds being stacked against him.

-Also, considering Reyna has a prophecy hanging over her head that’s specifically linked to family legacy, it just makes sense for her and Piper to choose Leo’s name. What better way to protect your child from a prophecy than giving her the name of someone who defied his fate?

-Would really like to eventually go into Reyna’s feelings on all this more, but that deserves a whole fic of its own.

-For anyone who’d like context on the Emilio thing, the very basic idea of that being Leo’s full name and him never using it is that his mom always used his full name and he’s terrified he’ll forget what it sounded like if other people use it, because no one ever says it quite like she did.

-Here’s a little fic Juno wrote about Piper finding out Leo’s full name for anyone who wants a little extra context!

-“But canonically his name is Leonidas.” As far as I’m aware, Rick actually confirmed his name is just Leo. Also, this is a fanfic, I can therefore do whatever I want :)

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, as always, extremely appreciated.

[flufflights]

⟡ ⸻ unexpected

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: enemies to ???, fluff

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: non-idol!heeseung x fem!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: ik its kinda similar to the jealousy one but yeah just wanted to post this

MORE ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

Pe was always a nightmare because of Heeseung, the most annoying guy in your entire grade. He had this way of always getting under your skin, like he made it his life’s mission to drive you crazy. Today was no different. You had just finished tying your shoes when he walked up to you with that signature smirk. Before you could say a word, he snatched your phone right out of your hands and held it above his head, way out of your reach.

"Heeseung, give it back!" you yelled, jumping up to try and grab it.

He just grinned wider, looking down at you like this was the best thing that had happened to him all day. "Relax, I’ll give it back," he said, like he was doing you some huge favor. "But only if you go and get my water bottle."

You frowned. "What? No way. It’s in the boys’ locker room! I’m not going in there!"

He shrugged like he didn’t care at all. "Fine. Guess you don’t want your phone, then."

Your hands balled into fists, and you glared at him so hard you hoped lasers would shoot out of your eyes and burn him right then and there. But instead, you just groaned loudly and turned around. "You’re the worst!" you shouted over your shoulder as you walked toward the boys’ locker room.

The moment you stepped inside, your heart was pounding. It was so awkward being in there, like you were breaking some kind of rule. You moved quickly, spotting Heeseung’s bag, and opened it. You found his water bottle right away, but before you could grab it and leave, a phone started ringing.

It was Heeseung’s. The screen lit up with the name "Mom." You hesitated for a second, then sighed and picked it up, answering the call.

"Um, hello?" you said, feeling super nervous. "This is Y/N. I’m… uh… a friend of Heeseung’s. He’s busy right now, so I’m answering for him."

His mom’s voice was kind and cheerful, and for some reason, it made you relax. She even laughed when you said something about how Heeseung was annoying, and the two of you ended up chatting for a minute before she said goodbye.

When you hung up, you glanced at his phone again, and that’s when you noticed something. His lock screen was a picture of you. Not just any picture, either it was one from your Instagram.

Your jaw dropped. "What the heck?" you whispered. Why would Heeseung, your number one enemy, have your face as his wallpaper? It made zero sense, and you couldn’t stop staring at it for a moment before you stuffed his phone back in his bag. Grabbing the water bottle, you rushed out of there, your mind spinning with questions.

When you got back to the gym, you practically shoved the water bottle into his chest. "Here," you muttered, crossing your arms. "Oh, and your mom called. You should probably call her back."

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, looking more amused than ever. "Oh, yeah? What’d you guys talk about?"

"Nothing!" you snapped, feeling your face heat up. "And by the way… your wallpaper?" You tried to sound casual, but you could feel your voice cracking just a little.

Heeseung’s smirk softened into something that almost looked sweet, which threw you off completely. "My wallpaper? Oh, yeah. It’s perfect, isn’t it?"

You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was messing with you or being serious. "Why would you… why would you even have my picture as your wallpaper?"

He shrugged, still smirking, but his eyes looked different softer, almost shy. "I don't know. Maybe I just like it."

Your face burned hotter than ever, and you didn’t know what to say. For once, Heeseung left you completely speechless.

Taglist: @sugarish @slayyuna @irasvr

[maretinelli]

CATS

Oscar Piastri X fem!reader

Summary: When she could, Y/n always attended the races with her boyfriend. However, the last time she found a box of surprises in the Paddock, and as a veterinarian, she had to take them home.

Words: 3K+

Warnings: Abandoned cats, running, cute couple and just cute things. And maybe some swear words??

Author: Always saying that English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes that may be in the story. Second, you can request stories in my ask box on the profile, Feel free!!! 🇧🇷❤️

MASTERLIST

Even though she wasn't a Formula 1 driver, Y/n also had a busy schedule. Now that the veterinary clinic had just opened, the young woman dedicated herself to taking care of the animals and making sure everything ran smoothly. Because of this, she could barely make it to her boyfriend's races, which left them both a little frustrated.

However, this weekend, she left her older sister in charge of the clinic so that she could support and pay attention to her boyfriend at the races.

It was Friday, free practice for the teams before qualifying and the race. Oscar and Lando were excited for the race at Monza. It was one of their favorite circuits.

Y/n was also excited, she loved it when Oscar asked her to go to the races in Italy. He said it was a romantic city for the two of them to spend the weekend. Even though Y/n said the city of love was Paris.

"Hey, let me be a little romantic in this relationship," Oscar joked when Y/n corrected his sentence.

The vibrant colors of the McLaren reflected throughout the garage, Lando was so excited that he told jokes every five minutes, making Oscar laugh.

Oscar was a more reserved, shy and quiet guy, but he always seemed at ease in the racing environment.

Y/n was in a far corner of the garage, so as not to disturb any of the team. She was playing with her cell phone, until she bent down to tie her sneakers, without seeing Oscar approaching her.

"Love..." he says, making her startle.

She stands up, letting her shoelaces fall and looking at her boyfriend in fear.

"Hey, it's me!" He says smiling and sitting next to her on the couch. She smiles and ties her shoelaces again. "I wanted to ask you a favor. Could you get my gloves from the motorhome? I forgot them and it'll be my turn to test drive in a few minutes." As he spoke, he made small circles with his hand on her back, an almost absent-minded gesture, but one that made her smile.

Y/n stands up and smiles. "I came to honor you, not to be your personal assistant."

Oscar laughed, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "Just this once, I promise. I need to test the car before practice ends."

Of course she wouldn't deny such a request, it was simple. But she liked to provoke.

She sighed theatrically, but smiled. "Fine, but you owe me a glass of Italian wine tonight."

Oscar smirks: "Okay, glasses of Italian wine and..." he whispers the last part in his girlfriend's ear, making her blush.

He looks at her, once he finishes hinting at what he had in mind.

"I'll be happy to fetch your gloves if that's the case." Y/n winks and gets up from the couch.

Oscar held her wrist for a moment before Y/n could stand up completely. "Hey," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "Thank you for being here with me. Really."

She gave a genuine smile, lightly touching his face.

"Whenever I can"

It was a simple gesture, but it conveyed all the affection they had for each other. Oscar smiled and watched his girlfriend leave the garage through the back doors to go to the McLaren motorhome to get his gloves.

She walked through the paddock, the cold Italian wind making the woman's hair fly. She huddled deeper into the McLaren coat she was wearing and put her hands in her pockets, walking quickly so she could quickly grab her gloves and get out of the cold wind.

Upon reaching the bright orange motorhome, he opened the door and began looking for his gloves. It didn't take long to find them on the table, along with a coat. She smiled as she picked them both up. I knew that Oscar hadn't brought his coat and, after training, going out in the freezing wind with a short shirt wouldn't be healthy.

Before she left, something on the fridge caught her eye. Photos were stuck with magnets: some of the team and others of her and Oscar. In one of them, he was holding a trophy with a wide smile, while she stood next to him, holding his hand and laughing. Y/n felt her heart warm. Despite their busy schedules, those moments shared were worth every effort.

She ran her fingertips over one of the photos before walking downstairs and closing the door.

Returning to the McLaren garage with the gloves and coat for Oscar, she was a little distracted watching the other competitors' cars pass by the track in the background, however, a cardboard box noise was louder than any other engine, to make Y/n turn around and look for something.

Y/n stopped, frowning. It didn't seem natural there. For a moment, she thought about ignoring it, but the noise repeated itself, louder. Her heart raced as she turned towards the sound.

Near the trash can, among the empty boxes, a cardboard box was moving. She thought it might be rats, but the sound coming from there was different. Higher-pitched, more desperate.

She quickly put her boyfriend's gloves in her coat pocket and ran to the box.

Inside the box, three puppies huddled together, shivering from the cold. The smallest of them, with snow-white fur, meowed so loudly that it seemed to be asking for help. The orange-furred one, a little bigger than the others, tried to climb up the side of the box with clumsy movements, while the gray one kept its eyes closed, as if exhausted.

Y/n's heart sank, and a wave of indignation washed over her. How could someone be so cruel as to abandon such small and defenseless lives?

"Oh no... what are you guys doing here?" She says, crouching down to get closer to the pups.

She ran her fingers over the puppies' backs, feeling how thin and fragile they were.

When the little animals see her, they start meowing and trying to climb up the sides of the box. "It's going to be okay, I'm not going to leave you!" she says softly, putting Oscar's coat over her shoulder and picking up the worn box with both hands.

She knew she had to get to the garage quickly to deliver Oscar's gloves, but she also couldn't leave those kittens there, like the last person had done to them.

Y/n also knew that the garage wasn't exactly the right place to take the kittens, because of the noise and commotion. But it was better than leaving them out in the cold Italian wind.

Passing through the back, Y/n didn't see Oscar pass in front of the garage, going to look for her. And apparently, neither did he see his girlfriend. Arriving completely in the garage, she sits on the same couch she was on before and places the kitty box on top, while looking around and thinking about what to give them to eat and get to keep warm.

"Y/n!! Oscar went looking for you, he said that-" Lando stops in the middle of the road, seeing his partner's girlfriend with her arms wrapped around a box and looking closely to the sides, as if looking for something. "Are you okay? You look scared." Norris comes closer, seeing the kittens in the box. "WHAT'S THE CUTEST THING, WHERE DID YOU FIND IT?" He says loudly and happily, drawing the attention of some nearby.

Y/n sees her friend bend down to look at the kittens and replies: "I went to get Oscar's gloves, which he asked for. And when I came back I found them abandoned near the trash. I couldn't leave them there in the cold alone and to die."

Lando caresses the kittens with the softness of someone who already has experience with animals. The little animals purr, one of them stretching in his arms. "Seriously, how can someone be so cruel? Leave these cuties alone like that?" Lando says, more to himself, but the indignation is clear in his voice. He looks at Y/n, who just sighs, shaking her head.

"You don't understand, do you?" she answers quietly, still focused on the kittens, a look of sadness forming on her face.

She quickly examined them, and apparently they didn't have fleas or mange. They were just shivering from cold and hunger.

"Did you guys see the Oscar?" His engineer asks and sees Lando and Yin with cats on their laps. "What a cute little thing!" He says and turns around to call the others to see. "HEY, COME SEE THIS!" He exclaims excitedly.

The garage staff gathers around the vet, petting the kittens in the box and on Lando's lap and asking where she found them.

Oscar finally arrives at the garage: "I didn't find her," he says, and then sees that mass of people gathered in a circle. "Is anyone sick?" He asks worriedly, but no one turns to answer.

Worried that it was his girlfriend, he walked faster and infiltrated the circle, stopping in front of the young woman and seeing the kitten that was now in her lap.

"Hey, I found you!" He says amusedly, bending down to her level. "Where did you find these cute little things?" Oscar strokes the white kitten.

With that, the people around left, leaving only the couple and Lando who was very entertained with the kittens.

"On the way back when I had picked up your gloves, I heard a strange noise coming from the trash can and a box of moving things, I approached and they were there. I couldn't let it go and pretend I hadn't seen them, so I picked them up and brought them," she says smiling, while stroking one.

Oscar watches everything in silence, his gaze fixed on his girlfriend, with a soft smile and an expression of adoration.

"You really can't let go of anything, can you?" He says fondly, reaching out to run his hand through her hair. "I love you for that, you know?"

She smiles, and remembers why she went out and found them.

"By the way! Here, your gloves and coat. I thought you might be cold after training." She smiles, pointing to the things next to her on the couch.

Oscar was still looking at her. "Thank you," he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and placing a chaste kiss on his girlfriend's cheek.

"Do you think three kittens could be McLaren mascots? Because this one definitely has the team color," Lando says, holding up the orange kitten, oblivious to the couple next to him. "I think this is what the team needs. Lucky kittens!"

Oscar smiles. "They're not for luck, they're for Y/n," the pilot jokes, knowing that even if Y/n said she was going to give them away before leaving, she would want to keep them.

Oscar knows the girlfriend he has. And he loved it.

"You're in a relationship where you're not in control, aren't you?" Lando teases.

Oscar shrugs and places his hand on his girlfriend's knee. "Let's just say I do what she wants."

Y/n laughs, rolling her eyes.

"Hey boys, it's time for you to test the cars" The chief engineer says and the McLaren drivers stand up.

The orange kitten that was with Lando started meowing when he returned it to the box.

"Oh no, don't cry," Lando says, putting his hand on his chest and being dramatic. "I'll be back!" He looks at the kitten and blows a kiss in the air.

Oscar and Y/n exchange a look without understanding anything and burst out laughing, before Piastri goes to his own car.

With that, Y/n, with the box carefully in her arms, looks at the kittens once more. Her hearts are still pounding, but she knows she did the right thing.

"I won't leave you out on the street, not anymore," she murmurs to the kittens, her heart warmed by the silent promise that she would take care of them.

As she walks through the paddock looking for food for them, the soft murmurs of the puppies mix with the distant sound of the engines, and Y/n feels a sense of peace invade her chest. She still has many questions about life, but for now, taking care of them seems to be what really matters.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Qualifying day.

The day before, when Oscar finished his training, he and Y/n took the kittens to the hotel they were staying at.

Piastri even went out with his girlfriend to buy food, a litter box, a house, a collar and medicine for the animals.

Now, on Friday, Oscar walked hand in hand with his girlfriend around the paddock, while the young woman had a small closed house, where the three kittens were sleeping peacefully and well fed.

"Hey, there's Oscar, Y/n, and their three kids!" Lando says, when he sees the couple arrive with the kittens again. "DID YOU KNOW THAT OSCAR IS OFFICIALLY A FATHER?" Norris shouts loudly, making the garage turn curiously.

"Y/N IS PREGNANT?" Someone shouts in the background.

"NO!!" Oscar and Y/n say together, looking at each other in amusement and laughing.

"We brought the kittens back. Is that it?" Oscar says, raising his hand on the last sentence for emphasis.

The garage staff laughs.

Y/n walks over to the couch she usually sat on when Oscar was at the rink. She releases the kittens from their cage and they start running around on the couch, playing with each other.

"They seem happier today!" Lando says and Y/n nods, smiling at the kittens. "How are you, McFluff, McMeow and McPurr??" Lando picks up a kitten in his arms, which was wrapped in a small cloth so as not to leave them cold in this icy Italian wind.

"McFluff, McMeow, and McPurr??" Y/n asks and looks at Norris.

Oscar just smiles at the names and puts his hand to his forehead.

"Yes. I thought these were interesting names to give them."

Y/n shakes her head, not agreeing with her boyfriend's teammate.

"But no fucking way!" She says and Oscar laughs even more at the swear word coming out of his girlfriend's mouth. Which was rare.

Before Lando could protest, Carlos and Charles enter the McLaren garage, looking curiously and looking for something.

"We heard there are cute kittens around here!!" Carlos says excitedly, looking around.

Lando points his finger at the couch, Charles and Carlos and they walk over there.

"Oh my God, it's really true! I thought George was lying yesterday!" Leclerc says, picking one up.

"That's McPurr!" Lando says, looking at the gray cat Charles had on his lap.

"NO!" Y/n protests again. "Those aren't their names!"

"Which ones?" Carlos asks.

"Lando wants to call them McFluff, McMeow and McPurr!" Y/n says and Carlos makes a face, while looking at Oscar who had the same expression on his face.

"I said I wasn't going to let Lando pick the names because... well, look at this," Oscar says, pointing at Lando dramatically as his friend feigns offense.

Clearly, only Lando was delighted with the names he came up with for the kittens.

"Y/n and I have already named the kittens Oscar with his arms crossed, approaches the quartet.

"Aaaah, so you're totally into this kitty world, huh?" Charles teases, nudging the younger pilot's shoulder.

Oscar rolls his eyes smiling, "You know how it is when you have a veterinarian girlfriend" she smiles and Y/n shares a shy smile.

"What are the names?" Carlos asks curiously. Again.

Piastri bends down, to be closer to the kittens on the couch.

"This is McLaren" he picks up the orange kitten and holds it up.

"Obviously!" Carlos says smiling and the class laughs.

"...this one is Storm..." Oscar picks up the gray kitten. "And this one is Melbourne!" Finally, he picks up the white kitten.

"Why Melbourne?" Lando asks.

"It's our hometown," Piastri says and points at Y/n slightly. "We wanted a name that related to us too!" He says shyly, making the other pilots coo and smile cutely.

"IT'S SO CUTE!" Charles says, ruffling Oscar's hair.

Y/n laughed.

"Storm clearly likes me more," Carlos comments to the gray kitten sleeping on his lap, while Melbourne climbs onto his back, drawing laughter from everyone.

As they watched Storm and Melbourne, they failed to notice that McLaren had climbed off the couch and was now running excitedly across the garage floor.

Y/n looks to the side and doesn't see the kitten, until she spots him on top of Oscar's car.

"McLaren!! No! Get off your dad's car!!" Y/n says seriously, while the kitten looked at her and meowed.

The pilots couldn't help but laugh at the woman's comment. Especially Oscar.

"Hey honey, pick up your son there!" Y/n looks at her boyfriend in amusement, he laughs and picks McLaren up from the car.

The engineers stopped what they were doing, some even taking pictures as McLaren looked curiously at the steering wheel of the car. "Look at that, he's ready to train," one of them commented, drawing more laughter.

"McLaren definitely likes McLaren," Lando comments, smiling with his arms crossed.

With that, the Ferrari drivers returned the kittens to Y/n and said goodbye, returning to their own garage. Lando was called and only Oscar and his girlfriend were left with the kittens on the couch.

The youngest one put them inside the cage so as not to cause any more trouble with them walking around the garage.

"They really are our children," Oscar says quietly, watching the kittens play.

"Yes. The best children we could have right now." Y/n smiles. "But if anyone asks me again if I'm pregnant, I swear I'll say 'yes,' just to see the look on their faces."

Piastri laughs. "Okay. The victim of this joke isn't me, so that's fine. I might have a heart attack if you say this to me a little more seriously than usual."

Y/n giggles, as he kisses the top of her head.

"I'll be back soon. I love you!"

"I love you!" she replies, heading out to take the kittens for a walk on the lawn behind the garage before Oscar makes his qualifying lap.

Moments passed, and Y/n was waiting for Oscar to arrive in the garage after seeing on the monitor him getting the fifth best lap in the training, starting in P5 in tomorrow's race. Meanwhile, she played with the kittens that were in the cage full of toys and warm blankets.

Oscar arrives at the garage, quickly getting out of the car and taking off his helmet and balaclava. He smiles in gratitude when they congratulate him on the P5 and walks over to where his girlfriend was standing with the team headset and a charming smile.

She takes the orange earbuds out of her ears and stands up to hug and congratulate Oscar. "P5 huh? Not bad" she smiles, as the pilot pulls her in for a quick kiss. "Congratulations, Osc!"

"Thank you, love!" He kisses the younger girl's cheek. "I think our four-legged children brought me luck," he says, looking at the cage, where they were playing energetically.

Y/n looks in that direction and smiles, still with her hands on Oscar's shoulders.

They sit on the couch, leaving the cage in the middle so they can play with the puppies.

"You know...there are some people in the paddock who want to adopt them..." she says quietly, resting her arm on the back of the orange sofa.

Piastri raises his eyebrows curiously.

"And there?"

Y/n shrugs, not knowing what to say exactly, looking away and playing with the sleeve of her shirt. Oscar watches her for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"Then why don't we keep them?"

Y/n widens her eyes, surprised but happy.

"What? Oscar, three kittens in our apartment in Monaco? Are you sure?"

"Of course I do! Just look at them. Besides..." He holds her hand and smiles. "They're going to have the best vet mom in the world. I can't imagine anyone taking better care of them than you." Oscar kisses her hand and looks into his girlfriend's eyes.

Y/n smiles shyly and lowers her head to hide the blush on her cheeks, but Oscar, noticing, pulls her close and places a soft kiss on her forehead, something he did whenever he wanted to say how much he loved her without words.

"Are you really sure? They're messy..."

"I survive Lando every weekend and more. I think I can handle three kittens."

Y/n laughs and places a quick kiss on her boyfriend's lips: "So, officially a family of five now, huh?"

"That's it. Us, three kittens... and, who knows, maybe someone else in the future?" Y/n blushes and gives him a light push, laughing.

"Calm down, Piastri. We'll survive these first three." They looked at each other and laughed, enjoying the moment together, while McLaren, Storm and Melbourne slept on top of each other, tired from the day's games. And it was still morning. "But yes... who knows, in the future, we might even consider something more... I don't know, maybe a life full of laughter and noise. Just the two of us, and who knows, maybe one or two more..."

Looking at Y/n and the three puppies, Oscar can't imagine being with anyone other than her. He could choose her in every life and every time he could, because he would know that in all of them, they would spend these sweet moments together.

[mrschristensen]

Making Christmas Cookies starring Leo Campoli

WARNINGS: pure fluff <3, Italian nicknames (mi amore = my love, dolcezza = sweetness), instead of having words italicized to emphasize it's in bold because Italian is in itallics instead!, Leo being a complete hopeless romantic and a liiitle bit of a jerk (but not really)

synopsis: Leo teaches his loving girlfriend how to make Christmas cookies; Italian style.

WC: 553 words

"Uhm... This isn't a sugar cookie recipe?" Leo's girlfriend questions, looking at him with confusion riddled along her features.

"That's because it isn't, mi amore," he responds, smiling. "It's Anginetti. They're Italian cookies, usually more popular around Christmas."

She looked at him in surprise, "Really? I'm... surprised I didn't know that already."

He laughs, "Yeah, you'd think, right? But it's only our first Christmas together, honey. Don't stress on it." He leans in and kisses her forehead, making her smile a little. "Alright. Let's get bakin'."

Throughout the time spent, they shared many laughs, yapped until their jaws were sore, and made many memories together. However, they weren't even done yet.

While the Anginetti baked in the oven, the best idea she's had in a while started to sprout. Do the thing she was best at: Causing trouble.

While he was focused on something different—possibly looking at the timer or going to do dishes?—she grabbed the flour, and took a handful. Then she creeped up on him, making sure to be completely silent, before throwing the pile at him, causing a flurry of white and the majority to land on his back.

He yelped, caught off guard by the sudden action, whipping around to see her laughing her ass off. He then noticed the still looming flour everywhere, and then realized she had hit him with it on the back. He smirked—that signature smirk of his—and wasted no time, snatching the flour bag from the counter and throwing a chunk at her as well.

"Hey! No fair!" she squealed, running for cover behind the counter. They were laughing so hard it hurt.

"Too bad! You started it!" he yelled in response, dropping a handful over her head, making her scream. He had all the power; he had the entire bag, what was she going to do about it?

Even if she tried to get close, she'd just get hammered with more of it. Finally, she gave up.

"Okay, okay, I surrender!"

Ding!

"I hope so," he responds, chuckling before going to grab the cookies out of the oven.

Then they decorated them, not caring about the complete warzone they made out of his their kitchen. She smeared some frosting over his mouth, giggling.

"What am I gonna do with you, dolcezza?" he murmured, fake sighing before smiling again and kissing her. "Mmm... you taste even sweeter than the frosting."

She rolled her eyes and continued decorating, and he was completely fine with just watching her, admiring her in what was his element. He knew she loved to cook and bake just as much as he did (although he was much better at cooking than the alternative), but doing it together? Even better.

Once they were done, they each took one and intertwined their arms, feeding each other the cookie they had in their hands. Their eyes were locked as they chewed, stupid smiles on their faces, and he turned his face to kiss her palm.

"Delicious," he said half-chew, "but not as delicious as you."

"Leo! Chew with your mouth closed!"

He stifled a laugh, though a little chuckle came out, trying not to make himself choke on the sweet treat. It was really good, better than he remembered. But maybe that was because he had made it with the woman he loved.

[yunhosgirl26]

Teach Me (Yunho fanfic)

Chapter 2

Warning: sexually explicit content, talks of abuse, pet names (Princess, bunny) , daddy k!nk

A/N: Please feel free to comment and like. Thank you for reading!

———————————————————————————

*flashback*

I knocked on the door, waiting for an answer. The door opened, and a tall man stood in front of me leaning on the edge. “Hi, I’m (Y/n) your new roommate.” He laughed. “You’re a girl.” I looked down at myself and back up at him. “Last time I checked, yes I am.” He let me in. “I thought you were going to be a man. Oh well, would you like me to carry your bags upstairs?”

“No, thank you.” I grabbed my bags and carried them upstairs. He showed me my room and I set my things in there. He finished showing me around the house. “That’s just about it. Rent is only $500 that includes the groceries for the house. I usually pay most of the bills. Please make yourself at home. If you need me, I’ll be downstairs playing my game.” He said. “Wait, what’s your name? I never got it.” He turned around and smiled. “My name is Jeong Yunho but you can call me Yunho.” We shook hands and I went to go settle in my new room.

I remember for weeks, my mom was giving me shit about moving in with a complete stranger. When she first found out, she wasn’t happy in the slightest, which I didn’t expect her to be. But that’s when I realized this is my life, and I’m a grown ass woman. When I told Yunho about my mother’s concerns, he was genuinely concerned himself. “Why did you move in with a stranger anyway?” He asked. “Well when I saw your profile picture I knew you were trustworthy…” he looked at me with a blank expression. “Okay, fine, I really needed to get away from my abusive ass ex and I had nowhere to go.” His mouth dropped. “Like hitting you?” I nodded. “Rarely did he hit me, but he mentally and verbally abused me.” Tears threatened to fall from my eyes. “I don’t really like to talk about it.” The room grew quiet and he hugged me. My eyes widened as tears fell from my eyes. “As long as you’re under this roof. You’re always going to be protected.” I cried. “Thank you.”

From that day forward, he’s been very protective of me ever since.

I began making dinner, so it was ready for when Yunho came home. I went upstairs and showered, hoping the ache in my core would go away. I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. I let out a frustrated sigh. I got dressed and went to take lunch to Yunho since he forgot to pack it. He was the CEO of some skin care company. I guess it’s doing really well. He doesn’t tell me much about it.

I went up the elevator to the highest floor to the receptionist.

“Hi, how may I assist you today?” She smiled. “I’m here to drop off Yunho’s lunch.” her smile dropped. “I can take it for you, he’s in a meeting.” She said. “No I’m not.” Yunho walked out of his office. “Sir, you have a meeting right now.” He gave her a blank expression. “Then cancel it. This is more important to me.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his office. “It was nice of you to bring me lunch, but I’m not hungry for that right now.” He said, hovering over me, his lips close to mine.I smiled nervously. “What exactly are you hungry for then?” I asked. “Strip for me.” He whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine. “But what if someone sees me?” He pinned me up against the wall with his body.

“Don’t make daddy repeat himself.” I bit my lip, unbuttoning my shirt as I kept eye contact with him. Piece by piece all my clothes fell onto the floor leaving me exposed to him. A feral look in his eyes as he looked over my body. “Your body is driving me so crazy, you’re so pretty like this, my sweet girl.” He walked around me like an animal stalking its prey, taking in the scene he was beholding. I grew desperate for his touch as minutes passed. Finally, I felt his fingertips dig into my waist as he pressed himself up against me from behind. “Do you like making me feel like this? Hmm? Do you like when I can barely control my urges?” He said while attacking my neck. He bit down softly, making me squeak.

“You’re just so damn irresistible, I just can’t help myself.” He marked my neck with hickeys, claiming me as his. I laid my head back on his shoulder lost in his touch, totally forgetting anyone can walk in at any moment.

“Please daddy…” I said, softly moaning. “What does my princess want?” He cooed. “Do you want me to fuck this pretty pussy mercilessly up against this desk? Making you scream my name, so everyone knows you are mine?” He nibbled on my ear, I felt lightheaded as I could feel his excitement. “I just want to make my sweet girl feel good.” He picked me up, pulling me into a sensual kiss. He knocked all his paperwork to the floor, setting me on his desk. He undid his tie and tied it around my wrists, his body pinning mine down.

“Remember our safe word?” I nodded.

He spread my legs open, kissing my inner thighs. His breath grazing my core, making me shudder. “You’re so wet for me.” He groaned. “It’s taking everything in me not to just take you on this desk. “Yunho..” I whined. The pads of his fingers slowly rubbed circles on my sensitive bundle. “want to be good girl for you.” I could barely speak in sentences as his pace quickened. With his other hand, he fondled my breast, playing with my nipple until it became hard. “Such a good little bunny for me.” He inserted 1 finger in my dripping core. “So good…aah, feels so good.”

He began to kiss me, deepening the kiss by exploring my mouth with his tongue. I moaned as his curved his fingers hitting my sensitive spot, I felt myself coming undone. That’s when I felt a stinging sensation on my wet heat. “No cumming unless I say you can.” I whimpered at the pain and pleasure I was feeling. He began moving down until he was face to face with my hole. He groaned as he gazed at my glistening wet folds. He licked his lips as he began sucking on my clit. I arched my back as that coil in my lower belly felt like it was going to snap at any second.

It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t touch him. I tried to untie my wrists, but it was no use. “You taste so good.” He said as he plunged his tongue into my cunt. The warm wet muscle felt so good. I was trying to be quiet, but I couldn’t help myself. “You’re so close.” He said sucking my clit more. “Show me how much of a good girl you are and cum for me princess.” As soon as those words left his lips, I began seeing white. Pleasure of the orgasm ripping through my body as he continued to keep going, and I couldn’t take the overstimulation. I began to cry. “I know my good girl has one more good one in her.” He wasn’t wrong, I felt like I was going to cum again and again with that magical mouth of his.

“I can’t wait to ruin you with my cock.”

“I need it.” He laughed. “Not yet, I’m waiting for the perfect time to give it to you.” I whined as he pulled away with my arousal covering his face. He finger fucked the orgasm right out of me as his thumb worked my clit. “Oh Fuck, Yunho!” He smirked. “That’s it, pretty girl, come undone for me.” My legs began shaking and I was panting heavy. He then put his fingers to my mouth and I sucked them clean, tasting the sweetness.

He helped me off his desk and untied my wrists. “Come here you.” I straddled his lap, he looked into my eyes and kissed me. He then covered me with his jacket and snuggled me in his office chair. “This is called aftercare. I like to show it to my subs because it makes them feel more like a person who is loved and less of an object.” I smiled. “I like this.” He kissed my forehead and rubbed my back.

After a while, I got dressed and went home. When I walked past the receptionist, she shot me a dirty glare. I think she knew what we were doing, my face began to burn red. I got home and took a nap my head was spinning from what just happened. Such an innocent thing like lunch, turned into that!

To be continued…

[cupidbedsy]

❃ downtown festivities ; flowers

➪ summary: connor and violet visit downtown chicago and their adventure is nothing short of chaotic

➪ warnings: two people rearing their heads into every single thing connor and violet do (lukas and kevin ofc)

➪ word count: 0.9k

➪ file type: 12 days of au's: christmas edition (flowers) blurb

➪ cupid's notes: honestly, whenever i'm in writers block i really just need to write for these two bc this was so easy to write and i don't know why i was dreading doing this in the first place. i still have three more blurbs to work on in order to be caught up but i don't know if those will be out tomorrow or today so yeah

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

“Are you sure you don’t want another jacket?”

“Connie, I’ll be fine. I promise.” Violet looked up from where she was sitting on the couch, already dressed in her winter coat, UofI beanie on her head and gloves adorning her hands. 

Connor finished putting on his boots, walking over to her, and grabbing her hands to pull her up, “Just making sure.”

She smiled up at him, letting him bring her into a soft kiss. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead to rest against hers, unable to keep the huge smile that was growing on his face. The smile caused her to blush, looking at him with curious and shy eyes, “What?”

“Nothing.” He stepped back, gripping her hand, “C’mon, we have places to be.”

The two walked out of Connor’s apartment, Violet whispering about all the things she wanted to do and wanted to see. It took everything in Connor to not just say ‘okay’ to everything she was saying, wanting nothing more than to spoil her just as he always did. 

The cold hit them immediately as they stepped out of the building, Violet trying to bury her head further into her coat, “Jesus fuck.”

He laughed, looking down at her, “That’s a new one.”

She clutched tightly onto her boyfriend’s hand as they made their way down the street, eyes wandering as she tried to look at every single Christmas decoration that was out. Once they came to a corner, Violet’s eyes looked around aimlessly until her eyes landed on the store diagonally from them, a hit-eating grin on her face, “Connie.”

“Yeah, pretty girl?” He didn’t look down at her, simply pulling her into his side to keep her warm and away from the other people who were starting to crowd around them as they waited to cross the street. 

“I found a store I want to go to.”

“And what store is that?”

She nodded her head in the direction, waiting for realization to click after he turned his head. He scanned the store, immediately rolling his eyes before looking back at her, “Really?”

“Please.”

“Do you want to go because you want to or do you want to go because you want to see my face everywhere?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” She trailed off, smiling before pulling him in that direction. 

“Careful, Vi. You’re either going to trample someone or get trampled and I am not in the mood to deal with either outcome.”

“Shut up.”

They came to a stop outside the Hawks store, Violet bouncing with anticipation or amusement, he didn’t know, but it made him smile nonetheless. He opened the door, allowing her to talk in first, trailing after her as they climbed up the steps. 

The guy standing there, got ready to greet the two of them when his gaze fell on Connor, cocking his head in confusion to which the boy just grumbled, “Don’t ask.”

The worker laughed and nodded, “Welcome in guys.”

Connor followed her around like a lost puppy the entire time, making mental notes in his head about which things she said she liked and which ones she loved. When they stopped by Winter Classic jerseys, he gave her a look when she took her phone out and took a picture of the sign, “What’re you going?”

Violet gave him an innocent look, “I don’t have this picture of you yet.”

“Obsessed much?”

“Yes.” 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Once Violet finished looking at everything she wanted to, the two made their way back downstairs into the cold of Chicago, trudging through downtown. When they came to a stop at a red light, waiting to cross, she looked over at him, studying the slope of his nose and the slight curve of his jaw. 

As if he could feel her staring, Connor looked over at her, furrowing his eyes with a cocky smirk playing on his lips, “Yes?”

“Can you believe it’s almost been a year since we started dating?”

And she was right, and no, he couldn’t believe it. A year ago today, they were probably texting about something completely random and most of his focus was on playing better and helping the team. A year ago today, they were dancing around their feelings and just basking in their friendship and flirtiness.

In a week, Violet would fly out to Buffalo with the team so they could be together for their anniversary, and then they would fly back home to celebrate New Year’s together. Connor’s head swam with the information, at their plans, at the present that was hiding in the bottom of his backpack. 

His smile softened into one of fondness, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple and bringing her into a huge hug, “I love you.”

Her eyes met his and she grinned, going up on her tip-toes in order to kiss his jaw, “I love you too.”

Some ran into the back of Connor, causing the two of them to stumble slightly, the boy turning around to glare at whoever it was. But instead of some stranger he thought he was going to have to yell at it, he was met with the faces of his two teammates, “What the fuck are you two doing here?”

Lukas and Kevin gave them shit-eating grins, “Fancy meeting the two of you here. What brings you two lovely people out on this very fine day?”

And some things will never change, even if those things include running into Kevin and Lukas when he really didn’t want to.

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