#she had great moments but i think a lot of what was holding her back was the same thing holding most of eleven’s seasons back as a whole
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bumblebee-online · 1 day ago
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i imagine vee x a extractor reader fluff/angst where the reader got hurt by a distractor getting to close cause the twisted to attack them and vee helps them get to the elevator.
⟡ ݁₊ . “Love Buzz” ~ vee x distractor! crush(?)
☎️; not totally sure what I was doing here,,, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! :3 put crush(?) ‘cause if you rlly wanna think of it as established relationship, you could!!!
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You were never much of a distractor yourself, not great with chases as your mind tends to just go blank and you’re not so quick on your feet. But it wasn’t something to dwell on, as you found your real talent in the ichor machines. Over time, you became more familiar with them, improving your skills. It’s safe to say you became one of the best… though you wouldn’t brag about it.
You were working on the final machine, still not exactly sure what threats were walking around or who exactly they were. You knew Vee was nearby—she always was. That girl refused to let you out of her sights for more than just a moment. But you always reassured her, telling her it was fine, that you are fine, and you really were.
Then you watched Flutter swing by, leading what looked like Poppy away from another area. The thing is… Flutter didn’t quite notice you, putting you directly in harm’s way. Before you could react, a sharp pain shot through your shoulder, like someone scraping a fork across your back. Poppy’s fingers dug into your skin, snatching you away from the ichor machine, leaving you momentarily stunned.
Before another mysterious figure roughly tugged you away, you caught a horrifying glimpse of Poppy, her face contorted with rage, ichor staining her features. Her jaw unhinged, ready to bite into you. Thankfully that never came to happen, and you found yourself running alongside your savior, still too stunned to fully process what had just happened.
“You better not slow down! We’re getting to that elevator, and I’m not waiting for you to get snagged by some Twisted! Keep up, or I’ll carry you there myself,” Vee spoke sharply, gripping your hand as she guided you along, the timer quickly ticking down and the alarm blaring in your ears. You almost wished she’d just sweep you off your feet and carry you.
With just five seconds to spare, Vee gently pushed you into the elevator, her attention already focused on your shoulder to examine the injury. A worried, panicked expression flickered on her screen, her bow tie slightly tilted. Though clearly stressed, she softly traced the wound with her cold fingers, and a faint static hum filled the air, a tiny sign of relief, kind of like a quiet sigh.
“You’ll be fine. I should’ve been there sooner, I’m sorry.” she muttered, her gaze drifting to the floor. You could only stare at her, your eyes full of love and appreciation. The pain in your back stung, but it hardly mattered, you were just grateful to be alive.
Vee glanced over at you, raising an eyebrow. “What are you lookin’ at? I mean-” she started to ramble, but you quickly cut her off with a hug before she could finish.
“Thank you, thank you so much, Vee! Seriously, I can’t thank you enough,” you repeat, smiling as you hold onto her tightly.
Vee gave a tiny, gentle smile in return, trying to appear unfazed. “You’re welcome. It was nothing,” she replied with her typical confidence, holding you just as close, trying to be subtle about how much she really cares.
With your hands resting lovingly on either sides of her screen, you let out a soft giggle, feeling the light shock of her touch in response to yours. You kindaaa almost forgot she was made of wires and circuits…
“Alright, c’mon. We can’t celebrate yet. There’s still a whole lot more to do,” the game-show host added with a serious tone, though her content expression gave her away. You really knew how to tug at her heartstri— no, wires.
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mochegato · 3 days ago
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Business Schooled
Tim shoved his hands deep into his hoodie pockets, mostly to keep him from pulling out his phone again and looking at the cold case files on what is supposed to be his break.  He had already spent the last 18 hours staring at case files and now he knew he needed to step away… for the time it took to run down the street to his favorite neighborhood café and pick up some dinner… and tomorrow’s lunch and dinner.  Not because he planned on spending the next 30 hours focused on cold case files alone!  Just… in case that extremely unlikely situation occurred, he’d be prepared.  Though, honestly, it sounded like a great night to him.  He couldn’t think of a better way to spend it.
He took a seat at the bar as he waited for his food to come out.  He should have confirmed the food was ready instead of trusting the time they gave him because if he had to listen to much more of the guy at the table next to him blather on about the immense benefits of the tax cuts for the ‘job creators’, he was going to do Damian a favor and ram his head into the bar hard enough to cause a concussion.
Unfortunately for the man, the woman he was on a date with wasn’t buying his pompous pontifications either.  In fact, her face was pulled tight into an annoyed grimace while she was looking at him, but she would look up whenever a server would pass or interrupt them and she would give them a kind smile, lighting up her face and highlighting her gorgeous features.  “Now,” she started tiredly, “I realize I’m not an economist, I’m just saying the benefits seem extremely limited in who actually sees them.  Really, it’s only…”
The man scoffed at her with the patronizing tone of a parent explaining that water is wet to a young child.  “You just don’t understand the policies.  The effect can be a bit complex for some people to understand.”
“Well, lucky for me, understanding complexity isn’t something I have to worry about tonight,” she clipped back.
Tim chuckled loud enough for the man to hear, though he seriously doubted the guy understood the dig at him.  He winked at the woman when she looked over at him with an appreciative smirk.  He had to deal with idiots like this guy constantly at Wayne Enterprises.  They thought they knew better than everyone else in the room because they had a degree… and no common sense or compassion.
He wanted to say something to put the guy in his place, but it wasn’t his business or his fight, not to mention, she was saying all the same things he would, or at least she was trying to.  It seemed like she would say all the same things if the guy would let her speak.  But the guy wasn’t.  And if he had to listen much more of this dudebro, he was going to pour the guy’s drink on him, and not even pretend it was an accident.  Fortunately for him, the hostess called his name and handed over his order at that moment, so he didn’t have to listen to him impress nobody but himself any longer.
“Look, economics is one of those things everyone thinks they understand, but not everybody can.  There are a lot of factors that effect it and that it effects,” the man droned on.  He swirled his wine as he spoke and leaned back in his chair as though he were holding court.  “It is difficult for people who haven’t studied it to identify those factors, and they end up embarrassing themselves by saying policies that clearly work, don’t.”
“I can identify failure very well though.  Like this date… and your personality,” she mumbled the last bit into her wine glass before taking a hefty gulp.
“I just think,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “that maybe the impacts of the policies are a bit beyond you.”  He smiled in a way Tim was sure was supposed to be kindly but actually came across as pompous.  “You like that little fashion thing you do.  Maybe you should focus on that kind of thing.  I mean it isn’t very complex, is it?”
Tim sighed heavily.  He was so close.  He was so close to making it home to his cold cases.  And then dudebro had to go and say that.  “The lady's right, you know,” he interrupted.
The man bristled instantly.  He gave Tim a once over, his lip curling more the more he took in, evolving into a full-on sneer by the time he got to Tim’s unlaced Converse.  “What would you know about it.  This is a bit more complex than you would get.  Did you even graduate from high school?”
Tim raised an eyebrow and sighed heavily again.  “I didn’t actually, Brad.  Is your name Brad?”
“It isn’t,” he snapped. 
“I’m going to call you Brad,” he continued as though he hadn’t heard him, Tim was sure he wouldn’t appreciate the parallel, but the woman likely did.  “But, to answer your question, Brad, I understand that she's exactly correct.  The scope of who is affected by those policies is extremely limited, although I will grant you that the benefits those limited number receive is staggeringly significant.”  He dropped his takeout bag on the middle of the table and pulled a chair from the table next to them, spinning it as he pulled to sit on it backward.
“The problem is the benefits don't distribute.  Trickle down if you will,” he motioned vaguely at the term he was sure the man would be familiar with.  “Those people who received the benefits don't share what they receive, as the policy claims they will.  Rich people hoard their wealth.  They don't share it.  That’s a fact that has been proven again and again… and again and again… and again, confirmed by even the most conservative research groups, because the evidence is so staggeringly stacked, it’s impossible to spin.  So, it actually punishes far more people than it benefits, all based off of the assumption that the wealth will be shared, an assumption that not even the policy writers actually believe.”
The man glowered at him anger radiating off him at not only being challenged, but succinctly and impertinently so.  “That's a very limited interpretation of the policies and really the only people who don't benefit are small business owners, who perhaps should be managing their businesses better anyway.  And if it's so easy to drive them out of business perhaps they shouldn't be in the business in the first place,” he sneered.
The woman stiffened instantly, eyes narrowing.  Tim started to speak but instantly stopped and leaned back slightly with a smirk when she spoke, her voice low and cold.  “The only people who don’t benefit are the 98% of the country who don’t own conglomerates built off of their parent’s money and exploiting workers.”  She stood up and threw her napkin on the table.  “And so forget those small businesses?  They should just go away because they can’t or won’t exploit their workers and have the funding from mommy and daddy to undercut other businesses long enough to drive them out of business then drive their own prices up because demand is now exclusively with them?”
The man ran his tongue along his teeth, his expression as he watched her now utter disdain.  “Well, maybe if they can't manage their business correctly they should.  And that approach?  That’s called business, sweetheart.  A solid economic approach to build a business.”
“And if you can’t show an ounce of emotional intelligence,” she spit out.
“Or actual intelligence,” Tim added.
“… then maybe you shouldn’t inflict your presence on others,” she finished before turning and walking away.
The man sputtered; mouth dropped in shock at her reaction.  “But we haven’t gotten our food yet.”
“I’d rather starve than finish this dinner,” she hissed and continued walking toward the door.
“And just for the record,” Tim added, leaning close to the man as he did, “I may have dropped out of high school, but I run Wayne Enterprises and I can assure you, you would not be welcome.”  He turned and followed the woman out of the restaurant without looking back, a beaming smirk on his lips knowing full well the man was gaping after him.
When he pushed through the door, he looked around for the woman, but thankfully she hadn’t gone far, just to the end of the block where she was looking utterly out of place on the dirty Gotham street in her clearly designer outfit.  It was a safer part of Gotham, respectable even, but there was little chance she wouldn’t get mugged if she stayed out for very long.
He edged toward her slowly so he wouldn’t scare her.  “Hey,” he started slowly.  He waited until she responded with a smile, and let out a small, relieved breath before continuing.  “I wanted to make sure you have a safe way home.”
“I do,” she nodded.  She held up her phone.  “I’m just about to order an Uber.  There’s a bit of a wait but I’m willing to risk Gotham’s streets to get away from that man.”  She glared at the restaurant but looked back at him with a soft smile.  “Thank you for checking.  And thank you for,” she motioned vaguely toward the restaurant, “the save.”
Tim shot a bright smile back at her.  “I don’t think you needed the save.  You were doing just fine.  I think I said all the same things you did, just in ‘white male’ voice.”
She snorted and bowed her head as she chuckled.  The brilliant smile she gave him when she looked back up made his breath falter.  “I think guys like that never hear any other kind of voice,” she joked.  She met his gaze for a few seconds before shaking her head lightly like she was trying to reset.  “This isn’t what Gotham is always like, is it?”  He raised an eyebrow at her, urging a bit more explanation.  “This is my first date here, a blind date,” she added insistently, “and…”  She sighed and massaged her forehead.  “My friends warned me about the henchmen.  I was watching out for that.  Is everyone else like that?”  She motioned aggressively toward the restaurant again.
Tim grimaced and bobbed his head to the side.  “Business bros and henchmen are both pretty prevalent,” he admitted.  “But we’re not all that bad.  As things go, he was pretty bad.  I’m impressed you lasted as long as you did with him.”
She huffed with an adorable wrinkle of her nose.  “I would have walked away a long time before that, but I was starving.  I was in a design frenzy all day and accidentally skipped lunch… and breakfast,” she admitted guiltily.  Her stomach grumbled right at that moment as if to prove her point.
Tim chuckled.  Getting lost in a personal obsession was something he could definitely understand… intimately.  “Design frenzy?” he prodded.
She hummed in confirmation.  “I’m a designer,” she motioned to her jumpsuit.
“You did this?” Tim asked.  He examined her outfit closely.  Close up, it still looked like it was designer made.  “You’re very good.”  He studied the lines and the craftsmanship, his fingers reaching out to trace the path his eyes forged, but he stopped himself before he could make contact and dropped his hands instantly.  “Really, it’s impeccable.”
She looked down shyly.  “Thank you.”
Tim looked down at the bag in his hand, then back up to her through his lashes, then the laundromat across the street behind her.  “You know…” he started slowly.  “I bought extra for leftovers.  If you want…”
“Oh, I couldn’t…” she demurred quickly.
“I insist.  I can’t let you think all Gotham men are like that,” he motioned vaguely toward the restaurant.  “That all assumes you don’t mind a bit less ‘atmosphere’,” he motioned behind her, “and like chicken tikka masala.”
She stared at him and glanced down at the bag in his hand longingly.  “That’s my favorite,” she said quietly.
Tim grinned hopefully.  “Well, that sounds like a sign.”
She looked up at him studying his eyes for a few moments, her smile widening the longer she looked.  “I think it is,” she agreed.  “Lead the way.”
Tim held out his elbow for her.  “Gladly.  I’m Tim, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Tim.”  Her hand squeezed around his elbow.  “I’m Marinette.  Marinette Dupain Cheng.”
“Marinette,” he repeated, letting the name linger as he said it.  “I think I must be very lucky to have come down to eat when I did.”
She chuckled and looked up through her lashes.  “You’re lucky?  I’m the one getting a free dinner and much better dinner companion.”  They crossed the street, arms brushing against each other’s, shy gazes between them.  “I’m not interrupting your night, am I?”
“In the best way possible,” he assured her.  He opened the door for her and ushered her through before him.  “I was just going to do some unpaid work.  This is much more enjoyable than the night I had planned.”
She jumped up onto a table near the windows, sitting cross-legged and making room for him to join her.  She looked at him with a brilliant smile.  “Good food and good company.  It sounds like a great night.”
Tim smiled and sat next to her.  He fished out the two forks and handed one over to her.  “Yeah, it does.  Best way to spend it I can think of.”
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quietwingsinthesky · 11 months ago
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I think the nature of Clara haterism on Tumblr can’t be fully understood without the historical context of 2013. Namely that by the time of DW season 7b Moffat was widely hailed as The Bogeyman Of All Misogyny Ever. Clara was considered THE prototypical Shallow Moffat Girl, and she became a sort of figurehead for everything wrong with the show. (Bc everyone was maybe 14 and Smith was too beloved to insult.) Consequently, she evokes a kneejerk bad faith reading response in many users even today.
yeah, alright, i can see that. i am surprised that, at least as far as i’ve seen, amy & river don’t get the same treatment? or if they did, it hasn’t persisted half as long as opinions on clara have. Because having now seen how all three of them were written, amy got treated. so much worse with The Misogyny™️, and River bounces between ‘actually a fascinating character’ and ‘moffat wrote a sexy girlboss who wants to fuck the doctor’ so hard it gives me whiplash. (and i say this as a River enjoyer, I love her and she deserves so much better lmao.)
Of the three of them, I think Clara actually comes out a lot better written overall? She’s allowed more space to be a character rather than be a woman, if that makes sense. Sure, bit of a rocky start in s7, and I can certainly see why the Impossible Girl thing could be aggravating to some people. (I think it was. Fine. fantastic episode conceptually that sort of fell apart when it came to actually doing anything.) but Clara in s8 (and the start of s9) is fantastic. Her relationship with Danny and the Doctor is messy and deceptive and so understandable. “Listen” as an episode almost felt like ‘hey what if the clara putting herself in the doctor’s past was actually interesting and impacted him’. Her becoming more like the Doctor, especially after losing Danny, both as an effort to hold on tight to the only person she perceives as keeping her moving forward and giving her a purpose AND because to her, the Doctor is able to lose so much and not be destroyed by it and she wants that (without really understanding just how much this life is fucking him up, too.), is just. fantastic.
where was i going with this. i have no idea. my point, i think, is: i guess i can see how initial reactions to clara might color a less than flattering picture of the rest of her, but :( consider: i love her so so much and everyone should be niceys to her.
#i was sort of neutral on clara for most of s7 i think#she had great moments but i think a lot of what was holding her back was the same thing holding most of eleven’s seasons back as a whole#which to me was. what the fuck are they doing with that guy. does anyone know. did anyone have a thesis in mind for this man.#which makes it hard to build a companion around him as a foil because what are you foiling.#amy & rory didn’t have this problem as much because they were a set do not separate and thus could play off each other as well#(river. is another story.)#and because 11’s relationship with the ponds was maybe the one thing the show kept on track the whole time and understood what it was doing#with them. clara’s is. a lot messier. it’s both building to a twist with the impossible girl thing that’s. a bit lackluster.#and then 11 without the ponds is. kind of a mess. like. character-wise. even more so than before. as far as i perceived it anyway.#but 12 does not have that problem! 12 starts off with a bang knowing exactly where he’s going as the doctor and what question he’s answering#about himself. and that gives clara so much more room to grow herself as she patterns herself after him both to feel important and to escape#the horrifyingly mundane trauma of her boyfriend. dying. in a normal way. that was also her own fault. (not really but i believe she thinks#it is.)#you know. if s8 12 is asking ‘is the doctor a good man?’ and answering ‘no. he’s just a man. he’s just there and he makes the decisions#and he doesn’t even know if they’re the right ones.’#then s8-s9 clara is responding with ‘well. if the doctor isn’t a hero. then what happens when someone tries to emulate him that sees him as#one. or worse: as someone who ought to be one.’#and the answer seems to be ‘bad idea. very very bad idea. this is fucking her up so bad and she doesn’t even realize it.’#granted im not at the end of this plotline but so far: ITS GOOD!!!! clara is great!!!!#anyway. thats my clara thoughts. actually i have more about ehy the moon abortion episode (bad) was ooc for the doctor but! very good#character moment for clara in reacting to what he put her through and how that’s foundational to how she’s rebuilding herself in his image.#but ill leave off here.#clara oswald#dw lb#ask
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mameillieureennemie · 1 month ago
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piercer!vi x f!reader, modern day
you come in for a piercing and vi's instantly smitten.
part 1 | part 2
Vi's seen a lot of tits in her day; she's a piercer, and one could say it's a part of the job description. So it's nothing new to her—it's all become anatomical at this point.
But your tits?
Holy shit, your tits are the prettiest she's ever seen. They look so soft; so plush and beautifully curved. With pretty nipples perked due to the slight chill in the room; it's embarrassing how they make Vi's mouth water a bit. How they make her feel the need to take them into her mouth and suck until you're writhing and crying out her name—
"Vi?" You call out again, snapping Vi out of her dazed thoughts. She blinks, taking a moment to clear her head before she's able to look you in the eye and oh.
You seem...shy almost, evading her gaze with a slight tilt of your head. Your hands are curled into the hem of your top, still holding it above your chest, and it's such a sight of vulnerability that Vi feels herself losing a little more of her sanity. But she's a professional, damn it, and she's gotta act like it.
Clearing her throat, Vi manages a smile and tries to switch her focus to less devious thoughts. Like doing this piercing and letting you go on your merry way, beautiful tits all freshly pierced and—
Oops, her mind has wandered again.
"Sorry," she apologises sheepishly. "I had something on my mind that distracted me for a second."
"Oh," you reply, looking a bit calmer. "...everything okay?"
No, Vi thinks as she says, "Just peachy," with a grin before reaching for a marker. "Okay, so I'm gonna dot where the needle's going to go through and make sure the piercings will be even."
You nod. "Sounds good," you reply, returning her grin, and Vi gets to work.
It's easy to slip into the frame of mind she needs to be in. Because at the end of the day, she prides herself on her work and wants to do a good job. Especially for you because despite only knowing you for so little time, Vi knows you're deserving of everything great and fantastic.
So she focuses, making sure to line up the dots evenly. She tries to ignore your sharp intake of breath when her gloved hands touch you to get the angle she needs. Does everything in her power to pretend she doesn't hear your quiet gasp when she marks up your nipples. Swallows heavily when she feels the slight shiver your body gives. Breathes in deeply when she notices the not-so discreet clenching of your thighs.
She hasn't even pierced you yet, hasn't even really touched, and you're already slowly falling to pieces.
Vi doesn't know if she'll survive this session.
"Okay," she manages, voice gone raspy. "Um, lay back for me, please."
You nod, slowly leaning back until you're laid down. At her mercy. Wide eyes peering up at her as you still grasp at the hem of your top, as if it's a lifeline.
You lick your lips, a quick flash of a pink tongue over soft flesh, and Vi tracks it greedily with her eyes.
"Will...it hurt?" You ask softly, even though it seems you know the answer. With the clenching of your thighs and shudder of your breath, it almost feels like you want it to hurt.
"Just a little bit," Vi says, just as soft. "It won't last long...okay, pretty girl?" The pet name slips out, but she doesn't regret it. No, she doesn't because she can see the darkening of your eyes and the move of your throat as you swallow.
"...okay," you murmur, and tilt your head all coy as you stare up at her. "P–please take care of me."
Vi's blood sets on fire.
"Don't worry, pretty girl," Vi murmurs back, moving her stool so she's in the best position for what she needs to do. She reaches for your chest, tenderly grabbing your right breast and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Maybe that's an accident, as if the way her thumb caresses the peak of your nipple so she can watch you shiver. Trap a whimper behind bitten lips.
"I'll take such good care of you."
a.n: please don't look at me but...there will be a part three, the finale. 😩
tagging @mar1posita @hellishdevotee @grapelover2000 @naomipeach @livvieloveswomen @weirdero @agnesemmi @angiexcoco @bella-72-23 @fantanbietsson @olivianotrodrigoo @nanasemo @marcylated @prwttiestbunny @chxrryvalxntine @obivari @nanajustnana-a @jaynawayna
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witherby · 19 days ago
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imagine how cute would be if Bruce brings the little wayne to his work on wayne tower 🥺 the moment would be ruined if some paparazzi taking photos with flash and scaring the baby
Sooo the baby didn't end up getting scared, but this idea did make me spit out 2000 words worth of content. I hope that's a fair compromise :3
THE LITTLEST WAYNE: TAKE YOUR KID TO WORK DAY
Featuring: Bruce talking to you like a colleague, a newspaper article, and an overprotective Damian.
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"Morning, Clarice. Donuts and coffee are getting delivered in five minutes if you wanna pop downstairs and help yourself. Afterwards, do me a favor and rebook the consultation with Lexcorp for sometime next month? The further out the better."
Bruce's secretary nodded, fingers flying across the keys to accommodate his request. She tucked a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and shot him a polite smile.
"Of course, mister Wayne — oh, goodness gracious."
Bruce's placid expression quickly became embarrassed. He tried to walk past her but she was already on her feet and rounding the desk, heels clicking over the linoleum floor to stand in front of him and the bundle on his arm.
"Who is this!" She cried, immediately fawning over you. You stared blankly at her as you suckled on your binky, wrapped up in a tiny Nightwing onesie (Dick got to the clothes first this morning) and hugging your father's arm. "Oh, my, you're the most adorable baby I've ever seen! I'm Clarice! I'm your father's personal secretary, and apparently the last person to find out anything, including when he adopted yet another child!"
"This wasn't a...planned acquisition," Bruce muttered, the tips of his ears pink. He let the blonde gently squish your fat cheeks and you preened under the attention, lifting one fuzzy-wrapped hand to brush against her wrist.
"A planned acquisition. Like you're another company he bought on a whim and not a precious angel," Clarice giggled. "What a doll... If you ever need a babysitter, Mister Wayne, please don't hesitate to call me!"
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, exasperated but smiling good-naturedly. "Have a great day, Clarice."
"You, too! Bye-bye, angel!" She waved, and squealed when you waved back.
Bruce disappeared into his office with you, bouncing you gently on one arm while the other shrugged off the duffel bag he carried with him. Zipping it open, he quickly tugged out a pop-up bassinet to place you in, then the pieces to an enclosed play pen he built and filled with some blankets, a couple toys, and an extra Red Robin binky (Tim got to the toys first this morning).
"Okay," he sighed, scooping you up and relocating you to the pen. "I've actually got to run my own company for a bit, and the others are busy, so you get to hang out with me today."
Bruce rested his arm on his desk, then his chin in his hand, and stared down at you. You were staring intently back at him, the binky bopping up and down as you suckled on it.
"You're a little young to learn the ropes, but I'll explain what I'm doing anyway. Every baby book I've looked at tells me you get something out of it even if you don't understand what I'm saying, so today it's time to do payroll. I'd make you sign an NDA, because you're about to see a lot of personal files, but you don't know how to hold a pencil, read, write, or speak yet, so I think we're fine."
Bruce had two monitors on his desk. He duplicated his screen and spun the other one around so you could watch what he was doing in real time.
"I don't like to delegate this task to other people because the last six times I did, they were eventually found embezzling money. Unfortunately, that tends to happen when you live in Gotham. Right now I've opened the pay software — it's this icon here, where the mouse is circling — and I'm going to ask it to open the time sheets for the last two weeks..."
---
A NEW FAMILY MEMBER? BRUCE WAYNE SPOTTED IN WAYNE TOWER WITH INFANT, SPECULATION GROWING
CEO of Wayne Enterprises Bruce Wayne seen with a baby after exiting his office this afternoon!
[An image of you in your Nightwing onesie, tucked securely in a smiling Bruce's arms as he walks out of an elevator, is printed on the front page of the Gotham Gazette.]
Sources say Wayne filed another adoption form with the courts a week ago and is being met with mixed reviews. Large portions of the public are joking that Wayne has an "adoption problem" while others speculate he is too inexperienced to foster an infant.
"Wasn't his youngest kid, like, 9 when he adopted him?" Asks one Carmine Falconi, recently released from Blackgate on good behavior. "None o' my business, of course, but I don't think he knows how to raise a tiny tot like that. My guys ain't touchin' a hair on that one's head, though. Kidnapping the odd teen or two, sure, go nuts, but even us crooks got codes, and that one's off-limits in my book."
Wayne declined to comment when the Gotham Gazette reached out and remaining family have further refused interviews about the subject.
(Alfred got to the phone first.)
---
The newspaper clipping was already framed and proudly sitting on the dining room table when Bruce woke up the next morning and shuffled downstairs for breakfast with you in his arms. He spared it a tired glance, put you in your high chair, and relented to Damian's insistent shoving so the boy could sit next to and feed you (he got to the pantry first).
"The next time you plan on actually doing your day job," the boy hissed, "bring one of us with you. There was an abysmal amount of security protocols you ignored when leaving work to allow paparazzi the chance to grab photos. I won't let your frivolous behavior cause them harm."
"Are you volunteering?" Bruce asked, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee Alfred handed over. He quietly greeted Dick and Jason as they filed into the room and had a quick rock-paper-scissors match to see who got to sit on your other side. Jason won. "Any networking events I have to attend, you almost always find a way to weasel out of."
"If it will keep our new charge safe," Damian huffed, "I can handle a few stupid luncheons."
"That's not a pass to skip school. If it's between a social or a class, you're going to class."
Damian looked simultaneously pissed and relieved. His fist clenched tightly around the small, silicone spoon, before he forced himself to relax and continue feeding you. You opened your mouth obediently for another offering of mushed-up bananas, apples, and cinnamon baby food from a high quality brand, giving a happy hum.
"Then the duty falls to one of you fools," he snapped at Jason and Dick, "which is akin to trusting a mosquito not to drink from you at the first possible opportunity. You'll pick up the slack when I'm otherwise indisposed."
"No can do, baby bat," Dick said, pouring himself a bowl of cereal and scrolling through his phone. He quickly snapped a picture of you with your mouth open to accept another spoonful of food. "I have a day job, too. I don't even live here. I'm just on an extended vacation until the end of next week, then it's back to Blüdhaven."
Damian focused his glare on Jason next, who smirked back and shook his head.
"Legally dead. So, 'less you want Brucie Wayne and an innocent baby seen all around town with Red Hood, the crime lord, it's a no from me."
Damian weighed the pros and cons. Bruce shot him a look and shook his head, dismissing the idea entirely.
The boy grit his teeth. He scraped the last of the baby food from its jar and fed it to you, then delicately wiped the remnants from your mouth. You gummed at his finger and made grabby hands, indicating your desire to get out of the high chair. Jason scooped you up first with a swift call of "dibs!", carrying you away to get bathed and dressed for the day.
"Then...then you have to go into work with Timothy!" Damian demanded, facing Bruce again, who had finished his coffee by now and was eating a slice of buttered toast. The man raised a brow, looking only marginally more awake than he was at the start of the day.
"Tim hates being at the office with me," Bruce explained as Alfred came around to set a plate of pancakes, eggs, and freshly-squeezed orange juice in front of Damian. "Says the Brucie act is annoying to be around and it drives productivity down at least 8% every time. It's a lie, I've checked the numbers, but if he doesn't want to be at the Tower at the same time as me then I'm not going to push a non-issue."
"You?" said Damian, incredulous. "You aren't going to push a non-issue? You push everything. It may as well be your middle name."
He cut into his food with more force than necessary, cutlery scraping unpleasantly against the plate until he lifted his hands again. He shrugged off the hand Bruce tried to place on his shoulder, chewing angrily on a mouthful of pancake.
"I'm open to ideas, son," the man said, "but here are the facts: You have to go to school Monday through Friday. I won't let you homeschool because you need to socialize with people in your age group. Jason isn't interested in declaring himself alive right now. Dick doesn't live at the Manor full time and has separate responsibilities. Tim is juggling college, Wayne Enterprises, and patrols. Alfred is too ol— is aging gracefully, and might prefer to have more time to himself instead of watching the baby all alone for hours on end."
Alfred took Bruce's empty plate away with a very sharp look, then excused himself back to the kitchen.
Bruce turned in his chair to fully face Damian, who glared at his breakfast like it personally caused this mess, and not one hyper-empathetic man and his bleeding heart for orphans.
"Now, can you tell me how best to solve this problem without the occasional "take your kid to work day," or enrolling the baby in a daycare program?"
Yes, he could. But unfortunately for Damian, he had inherited a bleeding heart of his own, which constricted at the thought of giving his little sibling back up for adoption. Instead, he swallowed his next mouthful of food and sighed.
"More research is needed," he mumbled, which was the closest he could ever get to admitting he didn't know something. "However, my complaints still stand. Let the paparazzi get a bad photo if it means keeping the babe safe. Their well-being is your top priority, so act like it."
"Heard," Bruce said, sounding far too fond for Damian's liking. "Finish your breakfast and then get ready for school."
The boy grumbled but complied, and soon stood next to the door waiting for Alfred to pull a car up to the driveway. He watched Bruce carry you in his arms after he slung the duffel bag with your essentials over his shoulder, tugging the small hood of your red oneside up (Jason dressed you first today) over your head to ensure you didn't get cold.
"Have a good day, Damian," Bruce told him.
"Sure, whatever." Damian took you from his father and adjusted your hood himself. You grabbed his finger in your small fist with all the strength you could muster and tried to put it in your mouth. He gently pried it free, and Bruce popped a Batman binky in there instead. "You will be safe today. When I'm finished conforming to what American society deems a proper education, I will retrieve you myself."
Your binky bopped up and down as you suckled on it, staring silently at Damian. It was practically a yes to him, so he took it.
Glancing briefly at his father, he hesitated a moment, then kissed your forehead and quickly passed you back to Bruce before heading outside to let Alfred drive him to school.
Bruce watched him go with an unreadable expression. He quickly turned and faced Dick once Damian was out of earshot.
"Did you —"
"I'm texting you the picture right now," Dick said, thumbs flying across the keyboard. "What should the caption be for my Twitter post? #BestBrotherEver or #SecretSofty?"
"Either way, he's going to kick your ass."
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erinaeris · 7 months ago
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Laios Touden and the Responsibility of Power
First off, let me gush just a bit about how fucking STRONK this man is. Olympic weightlifters are dying of sheer envy and lust over this man. He is a FUCKING POWERHOUSE.
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My favorite panels ever, and judging by the cropping of the second photo, Tumblr agrees.
AHEM, where was I?
Ah yes. He's not just strong and incredibly hot, my man is literally an invasive species in this dungeon. He knows every single weak spot of every monster Thistle tried to throw at him and when he finds it he just fucking RAMS HIMSELF AT THEM AND TAKES THEM DOWN.
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And when he's a dwarf HE LITERALLY BENDS STEEL.
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"Beat Namari at arm wrestling"? My boy, she wouldn't let you anywhere near because you'd FUCKING BREAK HER HER HAND ALONG WITH THE TABLE. (It's such a fucking shame we didn't see Senshi at least raising an (perfectly plucked except it just grows that way naturally) eyebrow in the background when he sees this. Alas, he was too distracted by his hair.)
But I mentioned responsibility, didn't I? Strength is power in the dungeon, and we all knows what comes with great power. And Laios is, in fact, very responsible with that power!
(Futther examples under the cut, wee bit spoilers for anime watchers)
This scene lives rent-free in my head forever, because of two things: Thistle suddenly realizing just what the hell he's up against,
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And Laios breaking Thistle's arm.
Now, I think Laios didn't mean to actually break his arm here, he's just half-blind and dizzy and knows he has to restrain Thistle or it will all go to shit. So that's what he does. The move you see above is a restraining hold. The point is that the person pinned down can't struggle much because the position of the arm presses the suprascapular nerve, so it hurts a lot, but unless they're held that way for too long they'll be fine.
But Thistle is TINY and elves are generally fine-boned. I think Laios really did just underestimate his strength.
And the moment the dragons aren't an IMMEDIATE THREAT anymore?
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Laios heals him. Thistle's a better mage than him by miles, he could have done it himself. But no. Laios does it. He was too rough, too careless with his strength, and he immediately backtracked, fixed what he broke, and continued with more mindfullness.
And these are just the examples that stuck in my mind the most. And it happens often enough that the team isn't even fucking surprised! Laios' strength would 100% scare people who only saw him in a barfight and didn't know anything else about him. Hell, the other adventurers they meet fucking quiver before this guy who just took down a monster they had nightmares about in one blow, up until he opens his mouth and they relax. You put more malevolent software in that sort of hardware and he'd be the next Shadow Governor.
But Laios is Laios. He's a gentle soul at heart (a Great Pyrenese, specifically, the gentlest souls ever unless you're out for their flock) and he is VERY CAREFUL with his strength, ESPECIALLY around his team. Chilchuck, who is literally half his size and underfed to boot, can smack Laios as much as he wants with ZERO fear because Laios is aware he can hurt Chilchuck by literally tripping over him, so he just stays still and lets Chilchuck smack at him. I'd be surprised if he ever managed to leave a bruise. Chilchuck has to aim at Laios' weak spot (back of the knee here) just to get Laios to notice him!
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But because I have some experience with marital arts and close combat, I think the fight with Shuro exemplifies my point so fucking well! Laios is HURT here, he's living every autistic person's worst nightmare.
And he HOLDS BACK. His restraint is fucking IMMACULATE.
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Shuro is fucking lucky Laios still liked him when he started talking shit, because he would have broken his spine otherwise. Laios doesn't even take the fight seriously! He starts with a fucking SLAP.
Shuro retaliates with an actual punch (that does nothing but piss him off)
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Laios wobbles. Shuro HITS THE DIRT.
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And this is the part where he realizes just how outside his weight category he is. Shuro definitely has technique on his side, but that means jackshit when you need ten blows to to even bruise your opponent, but one hit from them will leave you drinking through a straw for a week. For a second there, Shuro thought he was in ACTUAL DANGER.
But instead of finishing the job, Laios tries to talk him down, which just sets him off again. Man was at his fucking LIMIT, and it snapped. Self-preservation who?
And the best part is? Shuro is throwing all his strength behind his punches and Laios just takes them, but Laios? He mostly pushed Shuro around!
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They're mostly grappling here, precisely because Laios is very conscious his friend is pretty fragile right now.
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And when he does have enough?
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Shuro is flat on the ground again, and Laios has a black eye and a bloody nose. He sits down and five minutes later he's ready to go! Like yes, Shuro was at a low point here, but he's been mowing through monsters at only a bit slower pace than Laios' party. He's no weakling regardless. And Laios had to HOLD BACK SO HE WOULDN'T HURT HIM. And it's so obvious that Maizuru takes one look at the two of them and leaves them to their toussling.
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When I saw her reaction I had to scroll back and take another look, because I was sure she would intervene! But she doesn't! She is aware of Laios' strength, she has to be, and she doesn't lift a finger to help her precious charge. She knows the big dog he's wrestling with knows to watch his strength.
And that's my whole point: my boi is STRONK AF! And he is very aware of his strength, and how he could hurt the people around him is he wasn't careful, so he is ALWAYS CAREFUL. He has deeply internalized the fact that to have strength is to be careful with it, to use it in service of people rather than to hurt them (possibly from his dad). He is going to SUCH a good king! He's not going to like the job but by GOD he will do it really well.
And I will give my right arm to see a fic about the first corrupt lord/governor/courtier who attempts to misuse their authority for their own gain. Kabru's gonna have to talk Laios out of an execution.
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zomb-core · 7 months ago
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۫ ꣑ৎ A TRIM || carl grimes x female reader
summary: carl refused to let anyone near his hair after losing his mom, but when he desperately needs a trim he goes to the person he trusts most, you.
(intended lowercase)
warnings: mentions of losing a parent.
pure fluff
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“a trim, got it?”
carl twisted around in the chair he was sitting on to face you, you could tell he was nervous and you understood why. he hadn't cut his hair since he was 13, lori used to give him haircuts and he couldn't bring himself to let anyone else do it after she died, until now.
you currently stood behind him, a pair of shears held in your dominant hand while your other held a comb and spray bottle. “yes, a trim, I got it. now, are you gonna sit still and let me start?” you teased, a brief laugh passing your lips.
he nodded, removing the bandage from around his face and setting it on the counter next to his hat. “yeah, just please be careful—”
“carl.” you interrupted, making eye contact with him through the mirror, taking in his worried expression. “I know how important your hair is to you and I will be very careful, I just need you to trust me.”
he caught his lip between his teeth before giving you a curt nod and straightening his posture. “okay.”
you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head before starting. you grabbed a section of his hair, spraying it with the water until it was drenched, repeating this until his hair was thoroughly soaked. you didn't have a lot of experience with cutting hair and you were beyond nervous, but when he came to you and asked you if you would give him a trim you didn't have the heart to tell him no.
you took a deep breath before grabbing a decent portion of hair, bringing the comb to it and running it through it, stopping about an inch from the bottom, holding it up so carl could see it, “how's that?”
“that's fine.” he concluded after a few moments of staring at it, closing his eyes tightly when you brought the scissors up to his hair.
you hesitated. you knew how important this was to him, when he told you stories about his mom your heart would ache for him, and his hair was one of the only things left he could relate to her besides judith and messing this up would break his heart.
the sound of the scissors snipping the hair caused you both to flinch, you watching the hair fall to the tiled floor.
you exchanged a glance with him to make sure he was still comfortable, and you continued, copying your previous cut over and over again until you had chopped roughly the same length of hair off of every section.
the bathroom was completely silent minus the sound of the scissors and you shuffling around, neither of you could bring yourselves to speak, both too focused on your movements to say anything.
eventually, you finished the larger part of his hair and all that was left was his bangs. you walked around so you could be face to face with him, examining the way his bangs framed his face. “okay..” you mumbled, grabbing the larger portion of his bangs between your index and middle finger using them as a guide and you worked on his fringe while trying to avoid getting any hair in the open wound on his face. once you were satisfied with how that side looked, you moved onto the other side, making a few quick snips before setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire your work.
“what do you think? did I do okay?”
he stood up, leaning closer to the mirror to examine his hair as you watched him anxiously, awaiting his reaction. you rocked back and forth on your heel, your hands interlaced behind your back, “carl?” you tried, becoming extremely paranoid that you had messed up, but your worry was quickly brought to an end when he wrapped his arms around you.
“it looks great, thank you.”
your worried expression was replaced by a geeky smile, and you returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze. “oh thank god, I was so worried.” you laughed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose,
“thank you, by the way.” he looked confused at your statement, tilting his head to the side slightly, “for what?”
“for trusting me, I know that this was hard for you and i’m glad you trusted me of all people.”
he ducked his head down and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, smiling against the exposed skin, “i’m glad I did, too.”
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novvabee · 3 months ago
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Hi,
Could you do a romantic poly!marauder (without peter) x reader where they are in a established relationship and maybe James (I just imagine it coming for him) having baby fever and dropping hint at it to make the others want to a start a family ?
omg! I totally can see James wanting a family like straight away, but the others are kind of hesitant. Hope this fits your vision ❤️
Oh baby, baby fever
summary: james wants a baby
cw: suggestive? talk about starting a family
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James had been more needy and cuddly in the past couple of days. He was holding you closer, tighter to his chest in the mornings, being incredibly sweet. And this is James we’re talking about. He normally treated you like royalty, but he had somehow stepped it up after spending the day at work with you.
You had been a nanny for a family for about a year now, and you were loving the job. The family was so kind and generous, and they often felt like an extension of your own family. The children were no different. They were the sweetest kids with the most patience and understanding that you had ever seen in a child. There was a boy, Liam, who was 5, and a little girl named Ruth, 4. They were the reason you loved your job, getting to see them and care for them was the best job you could have ever asked for.
Two days ago, you had planned a trip to the zoo for the two, and were so excited to spend the whole day with them. James, who had the day off, offered to come with. He argued that it would be better to have two adult sets of eyes to watch over the children, safer, and you agreed. You didn’t know how the children would take it at first, him being a stranger, but just like everyone else seemed to, they took to him instantly.
Liam was so happy to have a boy to rough around with (though james was about 3 and a half feet teller and much, much stronger) and Ruth seemed to develop a bit of a crush, having James tie her pink sparkly shoes, hold his hand to cross the street, listen to her jokes and animal facts she had learned, and hold her favorite stuffed animal when she got tired of holding it herself.
James never once complained. He played and laughed with the kids, he carried both, one in each arm, whenever they asked, he bought them each a toy from the gift shop with his own money when they asked. He was doing amazing.
There was a different side to James that you saw. You were used to the kindness and warmth of him, but this was different. He was so gentle with them, it came so easy to him. You noted the moments he would get down to their level to hear them properly, to make sure they felt heard even though they were mostly talking nonsense or silly kid things. He lifted them up to see the animals without them having to ask, he just knew they wouldn’t be about to see over the fence. He made sure they had water and snacks whenever they wanted them.
It took a lot of pressure and stress off of you, put some ideas into your head… you thought that he would make a great dad.
And it seems, James had the same thoughts. The next day he dropped his first hint. All four of you and your boys were lounging about on the couch and watching movies. The day was quite glum out and you all wanted to curl up and use each other for warmth. You were curled into Remus’s side, James laying on you, his head on your chest and body between your legs, Sirius’s head in Remus’s lap. You were a big puddle of happiness. While watching a particularly boring part of the movie, James began running his hands along your sides, under your shirt. You didn’t mind, his hands were always so warm and soft. It gave you goosebumps in the best way. He moved his hands from your sides to your stomach, right under your belly button. He was dragging his fingers along your bare skin before looking at your stomach and kissing it. He laid his head back down and watched the move like nothing, continuing to rub your sides, but you knew what he was after. You knew what he was thinking and why. 
The next hint was dropped while you were all in the kitchen. Remus finishing cooking dinner for you, and the three of you waiting patiently at the table. You had somehow stumbled into the conversation of which teachers you had crushes on when you were younger. 
“Oh come on, Minnie had that authoritative thing going for her.” Sirius confidently announced over the noise of the kitchen.
“McGonagall? Sirius, what is wrong with you?” Remus looked over from the stove, baffled. You giggled and went to stick up for Sirius.
“I don't know,” you joked “She had sort of a milf vibe don't you think?”
The boys all laughed. James replied with a smirk from across the table“You’d know all about that Y/N, wouldn’t you?”
You tilted your head at him and furrowed your brows but chuckled “What do you mean Jamesie?”
“I just mean,” he starts, Remus serving you and Sirius both plates, “It takes one to know one.”
You all started laughing heartily at his comment.
“James mate, I think she’s lacking the main component for that.” Sirius teased.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“She's not a mother.” 
“She could be,” James said slyly, a smirk cutting across his face.
“Woah woah” Remus said at the same time Sirius laughed a “What are you planning Potter?” you just laughed, you knew exactly what he was getting at. You were letting him have his fun before the seriousness sets in, before that very real, very important discussion happens. 
The next hint was dropped during game night. You had all decided to play a few games like Overcooked and Mario Party. It was quite a fun night full of swearing and playful anger. It was a good outlet to yell at each other without it being serious or mean in any way. A great way to let out all of your competitive energy. You were playing a round of Mario Party and losing, bad. Every mini game the boys seemed to team up on you. “Fuck me!” you let out.
James took this as his sign to slide in behind you and wrap his arms around you “You know that can be arranged, love.” he drawled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 
Remus and Sirius shared a look. “What’s gotten into him?” Sirius asked.
“He wants to have a baby.” you explained. You weren’t sure how the other boys hadn’t picked up on it. It wasn’t exactly something that  you had all talked about yet, you just liked being together, the four of you, having fun and sharing a life with each other. You weren't sure about… a baby. 
The whole room turned attention to James, who seemed to have turned shy. “I just-,” he started, “I think that… Y/N would make a wonderful mother, and I think I would be a pretty good dad? And I love children, I want one. I’m not saying, I mean, I-I don’t know…” He finished, unconfident and a little deterred.
You sighed, sitting up and readjusting to sit in his lap, facing him. “Jamie baby,” You said, taking his face in your hands, “look, you would be an amazing dad, the best dad in the world. But honey, I don’t think we are all ready for that right now.” you looked over to Sirius and Remus for agreement, they nodded and encouraged you to keep going. “James, we’re still really young. And I know you had a lot of fun with the kids I nanny, but that is different. Those are someone else's kids. Kids that we can have fun with and do fun things with them and then send them on their way back home where they scream and cry and throw tantrums. They aren’t always so perfect. And you’ve never had to change their diapers or deal with them when they're sick and when they are inconsolable. It was fun, but there is a whole other side to parenting, a hard and serious one.” Sirius opened his mouth to make a comment at that but Remus nudged him in the ribs and shook his head. “So baby, I am not saying no. But I am saying not right now. Is that understandable?” you asked.
James looked at you and nodded, you could tell he knew it wasn't the right time, but deep down that is something he wants. You kissed his cheek to try and cheer him up a bit, you know he would need a little bit to be sad, but that he would inevitably come around.
Remus, noticing that James was still upset, came up with a proposition. “How about we work our way up? We start small and then see where we are after. What if we get a cat or a dog?” He suggests.
Sirius squinted his eyes and said “How about a plant?”
James chuckled, the sound making your heart feel less heavy. “I would like a cat…”
“Damnit” Sirius said under his breath.
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 9 months ago
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(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku
Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.
WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂
Hawks
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“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”
Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. 
“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”
Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.
“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”
Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?
You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.
Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.
Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time. 
“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”
You inhale sharply. Not again. 
For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.
Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life. 
“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism. 
“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”
You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.
You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols. 
And now he slanders you on national television? 
And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this. 
Dabi
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“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.” 
“There is.” 
“There isn’t.” 
You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.
“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”
Dabi looks at you, unimpressed. 
“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.” 
“You serious?” 
Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff. 
“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”
Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you. 
“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour. 
You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting. 
“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.” 
You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair. 
“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.
Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother. 
A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.
“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”
His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour. 
“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.
You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”
His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.
He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away. 
“Are we understood?” 
The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless. 
“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”
Bakugo
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“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”
Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.
His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.
Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh. 
“Katsuki.” 
Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.
The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep. 
You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend. 
But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue. 
“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.
“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts. 
“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you. 
Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod. 
“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”
“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”  
Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you. 
“I’m not making up excuses.”
“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired,  too busy or not in the mood.”
He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes. 
“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”
His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.
“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”
You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears. 
He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.
Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...
Your insecurities strike back, taunting you. 
Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off. 
“The hell you want now?”
Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him. 
He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member. 
Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down. 
You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you. 
You really have to wake up early.
Deku
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“Are you serious, Izuku?” 
The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be. 
“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.
Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.
“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.
“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him. 
You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.
“Izuku.” 
“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.” 
You don’t. 
“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”
You point a warning finger at him.
“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”
He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish. 
“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”
“You don’t, stop lying.”
“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.
“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears. 
You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?
Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest. 
“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time. 
He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.” 
And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.
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2K notes · View notes
flowerandblood · 3 months ago
Note
Hi, for the ask game you’re making
Glass cuts deepest
🖼️ Museum
🍁 Autumn
💐 Care
🎃 Jealousy
😬 Semi-public sex
🍓 Sexual tension
Congratulations on the milestone 😊!
The Art of Body
[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]
[ prompts: museum, autumn, jealousy, care, sexual tension, semi-public sex ]
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[ warnings: unprotected sex, smut, mention of sexual trauma ]
A short written as a celebration of my 4000 followers milestone as part of this ask game, which is part of Glass Cuts Deepest story.
Rino Stefano Tagliafierro is the animation artist of François Boucher's "Leda and the Swan" 1740 [post by eucanthos]
______
"Are you sure? I don't want to force you to do anything. It's the middle of the school year, I'm sure there'll be a lot of people there." Wright muttered, looking at him with uncertainty.
He felt frustration, knowing what she meant by people.
Women.
The truth was that since they had been engaged, he had gradually but successfully managed to simply pretend that he didn't see them. When they were in a restaurant or on a walk he would focus only on her and on talking to her, often holding her hand – it made him feel safer, like when you are looking down a great precipice while holding on to the railing.
He was very proud of himself when one day they went to the cinema together to see an animation they both really wanted to watch – it turned out that there were women sitting on either side of their seats. Wright wanted to back out and just leave, recognising that they didn't need to see the film at all, but he was tired of running away all the time.
When they sat down, he shifted in his seat as close to Wright as possible, not wanting the person sitting next to him to touch him – his fiancée had been leaning over his ear throughout the screening, asking if everything was okay, and he only nodded.
He couldn't remember much of what he saw – he was unable to focus as he felt only the rapid pounding of his heart and the cold sweat on his back.
When they left the cinema, he felt relieved, but also proud, because he had done it – even though he felt sick a few times and wanted to vomit, he had endured and nothing had happened.
He felt that he was slowly ready to just go out to people and not wonder who he was passing on the way.
"I want to go there. It's the biggest museum in our country. We've been talking about it for a long time." He said, putting his black turtleneck over his head and sighed, seeing that he had ruined his elaborately styled hairdo by doing so.
Wright noticed this and involuntarily reached into his hair, trying to comb it properly again with her fingers.
He swallowed hard, simultaneously frightened and pleased that she had touched him so suddenly – he repeated to himself at times like this that he trusted her, her familiar scent and the warmth of her skin affecting him in a calming way.
"If you say so. Maybe you're right. I've wanted to see this place for a long time too." She admitted finally, and he smiled with satisfaction, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Give me a moment. I need to change." She said, opening his wardrobe, looking in it probably for one of her dresses.
Some part of him wanted her to change in front of him – she never did. On the other hand, he dreaded it – he had never seen her naked – not completely.
He had never seen her bare breasts or buttocks, only felt them beneath his hands when he put his hand under her shirt.
He swallowed hard as she threw him a warm smile and locked herself in the bathroom, feeling both relieved and disappointed.
He waited patiently for her, and when he heard her come out, he froze – her floral dress was fastened from the front with large white buttons, a fluffy, light-coloured jumper over her shoulders. She had said something to him, probably that she was ready, but all he could think about was that she hadn't put her bra on.
He could easily see the shape of her nipples under the material and something about the sight frustrated him.
Why should others look at something that even he couldn't see?
He wanted to say it, but before he opened his mouth he thought it was unfair – he himself wouldn't want her to dictate what he could and couldn't wear, and he thought his remark might be rude.
"Let's go." He said finally.
It took them a couple of hours to get there – during this time Wright had bought them tickets for all the exhibitions online, so they wouldn't have to wait in long queues at the box office. He liked how organised she was – the fact that she always helped him and didn't leave everything on his head.
He felt he could rely on her.
When they got out of the car, they ran ahead, holding hands – an intense autumn rain had broken up all around them, which meant that by the time they reached the main entrance, they were all wet.
The security guard scanned their tickets and pointed the way they should follow – after a while, their eyes were met by spacious, bright, richly lit halls with walls filled with paintings by great artists, with sculptures of wood, bronze and marble all around them.
His fiancée approached one of the medieval statues depicting the Beautiful Madonna and Child, the one they both knew well from their art history textbooks.
"Look! It's even more beautiful than in the pictures." She said cheerfully, quickly grabbing her phone, taking pictures of the sculpture.
He, however, stared at her dully, seeing the wet material of her dress clinging to her skin, her nipples clearly outlined, popping from the cold.
He felt both irritation and desire at the sight, his manhood pulsed softly in his trousers, expressing his desire to touch her.
He grunted and turned his head away, walking over to one of the baroque paintings hanging on the wall, trying not to think about it.
I'm sexualising her too much, he rebuked himself in his mind, feeling a kind of shame by doing what he himself would never want to experience again in his life.
He regained his good humour and walked with her through the long corridors filled with art, stopping constantly at some artefact – they talked about everything, delighting in the workmanship and details together, while criticising what they didn't like.
He felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach again when, standing at one of the sculptures, he saw that the man standing opposite them was looking straight at Wright's breasts – he would have thought he was being oversensitive again if it hadn't been for the slight smile of satisfaction on the man's lips, which told him that he was pleased with how much was visible through the thin material of her dress.
He didn't know why, but he grabbed her wrist and tugged at it, pulling her the other way, frustrated and enraged.
"What happened? Did someone touch you?" She mumbled, following him obediently, thinking it was all about him, as usual.
He stopped and looked at her, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.
"Did you have to dress like that? Everyone's looking at you." He hissed, but immediately regretted his words – Wright blinked and shook her head, horror and discomfort in her eyes, as if what he had said had caused her pain.
"What do you mean? I don't understand. After all, my dress doesn't even reveal my cleavage." She said resentfully, looking down, only after a moment noticing what he and everyone else had seen.
She looked at him again and pressed her lips together, covering her breasts with her jumper and her hands, as if the sight of them was something disgusting, worthy of condemnation.
He felt a sting in his heart at the sight – at the thought that she felt it was her fault that other men were looking where they shouldn't.
He swallowed hard and grabbed her hands, lowering them down, making her involuntarily reveal again what she had tried to cover up only moments before.
"– forgive me – I shouldn't have said that – it's just – fuck – I just I have a hard time with the idea that someone else might be... looking at something that even I couldn't see –"
"After all, you can look at it." She whispered, speaking so that no one could hear her. "Even now, if you want to."
"Now?" He muttered, surprised by her words.
What did she mean?
"We can go to the toilet and lock ourselves in the cabin. Our first time was like that too. You did it because the area around you didn't remind you of the place where you faced something bad. About the bed." She reminded him, and he swallowed loudly, realising it was true.
He looked down once more, at the thing he wanted so badly, and nodded slowly.
"Okay."
He felt like a little boy, unable to look at her in shame when the toilet door closed behind them. Once they made sure they were alone, they hid in one of the cabins and just looked at each other for a while.
He felt his heart thump harder in his chest as her hands slowly rose to the buttons of her dress – he watched in disbelief as she began to undo it one by one, his erection twitching and swelling in his trousers, aching with desire at the sight of her bare skin.
When she reached the height of her belly, she stopped and her hands dropped – her dress was unbuttoned, but revealed only a small line of her naked skin – he could see that she was breathing heavily as was he, panting with excitement.
Involuntarily, he took one slow step towards her, then another – his large hand rose uncertainly to the height of her chest and pushed the material of her dress aside in a gentle, lazy motion. He sighed deeply, immediately covering what he saw with his fingers, feeling himself breathe through his mouth out of lust – he looked into her eyes as her hand closed over his, encouraging him to sink deeper into the structure of her plump, soft bosom.
He leaned in and kissed her, unable to withstand the tension he felt inside – his lower abdomen was filled with a wonderfully familiar, warm, tickling sensation that made his length completely hard. He pressed his hips against her abdomen, rolling them back and forth, trying to somehow soothe the need for closeness and tenderness that only she could give him.
"– feels good? –" She breathed out into his mouth, letting their lips caress again and again with the sticky clicks of their saliva, the skin of her breasts wonderfully warm and swollen, melting beneath his fingers.
"– pull down your panties –" He instructed, and she moaned softly into his mouth, immediately obeying his command.
He let her go for a moment, dealing with his trousers, only to release his heavy, painfully swollen erection – as soon as her underwear landed on the ground, he grabbed her in his arms and lifted her, so that her breasts were at the level of his face.
They both cried out as at the same time his lips closed over her hard nipple and the head of his cock opened her wide – he gasped in pleasure, feeling how warm and moist she was, but not seeing anything that was happening from her waist down, covered by the material of her dress.
"– ah –" She mewled as his arms embraced her in a confident hug and pressed her body against the cold tiles, trying to keep her balance as he sank all the way into her body with one, sure thrust of his hips.
"– be quiet or I'll stop –" He threatened and they both froze when they heard someone enter – his cock pulsed inside her greedily as he simply continued with her in that position.
He felt her hands tighten in his hair, her hot pussy squeezed his manhood hard as his tongue swirled around her little nipple, teasing and sucking on it alternately.
He grunted quietly as he felt her begin to roll her hips – some part of him wanted to stop her, hearing that someone was still inside, however the other, more animalistic part of him just wanted to pound into her – and that's what he did.
He heard her squeal softly and she immediately pressed her face against his hair, trying to deafen the sound, as their naked bodies began to slam against each other with loud, sticky smacks of her moisture. He was no longer interested in whether or not the person inside knew what had just taken place – all he could focus on was their heavy, ragged breaths, the wonderful, growing tension in his loins, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close.
He couldn't contain the low growl of delight that passed in vibration across her breast, couldn't contain how desperate he was, couldn't contain what euphoria possessed him at the thought of looking, smelling, touching her naked body, experiencing nothing but bliss.
"– Aemond –" She mumbled softly into his ear, so that only he was able to hear it – her small fingers clenched on his body allowing her to keep her balance and take what he was giving her, as shocked by what they were doing as he was.
All he could think about was how warm and wet she was, how easily she welcomed him deep inside her, how much she wanted him even though they had been together for so long.
The level of trust he held in her made him able to focus only on pleasure, and after a few messy, loud slaps he came inside her with a gasp of relief.
Her nails digging into his shoulders and hair made it almost painful when he felt her body shake with an aggressive, intense orgasm, causing her to stifle a moan with difficulty, making a quiet, whimpering sound.
"– shhh – shhh, little one –" He whispered, still deep inside her, feeling his manhood and her fleshy walls pulsing in one united rhythm, snuggled into her soft, warm chest.
The touch of her bare skin, her heart beating beneath his cheek was so wonderfully intimate, personal, sweet.
Why hadn't he done this before?
They were both relieved when they heard the sound of the water being drained in the other cabin, then the door opening and someone's footsteps indicating that they were alone.
"– Aemond – my legs are aching –" She mumbled, still crossing her calves on his back, supported only by his hands that held her buttocks.
"– just a little longer –" He muttered, pressing his face harder into the silky structure of her plump breasts.
Just a little longer.
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shan-yee · 2 months ago
Text
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•𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘝 = 𝙉𝙨𝙛𝙬 𝙖𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙑𝙞𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙧 [𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙚]
•𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 = 𝙑𝙞𝙠𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙚
•𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 = 𝙎𝙚𝙭, 𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧, 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣.
•𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 = 2150
•𝘈/𝘕 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨
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Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
⇰ Viktor is often tired after a session but he always takes the time to caress and kiss his partner while asking her how she feels.
⇰ He is extremely gentle and it’s with pleasure that he will take a bath with her while trying to beat his fatigue, generally he won’t stay long and will go to bed after being sure that she no longer needs of him.
Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
⇰ Honestly he doesn't like much about himself, but if he had to choose he would probably say his hair. He takes great care of it, keratin product, shampoo, conditioner, etc.
⇰ He particularly likes it when his partner runs her fingers through his locks, it's a very intimate act for him and he generally doesn't let anyone touch them.
⇰ About his girlfriend ? He loves everything about her but especially her hands. He often caresses them absently and loves to hold them during the act.
Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…)
⇰ Viktor likes to finish inside or in a protection depending on whether his partner is taking contraception.
⇰ I think that at the start of his relationship he won't like cumming on his girlfriend's body, feeling like he's dirtying her. But when it happens by accident and he sees that the reader likes it, he will end up secretly enjoying doing it.
⇰ He has an average amount of cum, maybe a little less than most men.
Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
⇰ I think that he would keep it to himself but Viktor feels a certain attraction to Jayce, sexual but above all romantic. He would act as if he doesn’t and try to convince himself, but the more time passes, the more he will realize it.
⇰ After a few years he will become more attentive to the relationship that his partner shares with Jayce, secretly hoping that she too, is not insensitive to his charm.
⇰ However, he won’t ever think about leaving the reader for him and will never do anything behind her back.
Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
⇰ To be honest, Viktor wasn't really experienced in love or anything sexual before meeting his partner. He had neither the desire nor the time to be interested in this kind of thing.
⇰ Once in a relationship he will do a lot of research and perhaps ask advice from Jayce, in whom he trusts enough to confide.
⇰ Over time he’ll know what he is doing and will like to learn by listening to his partner's desires, in fact, he will surely be the type to ask a lot of questions during the act.
Favorite position (This goes without saying.)
⇰ Viktor likes to be close to his partner and feel her warmth, or coldness, against his skin. Depending on his state of health, some positions can be quite complicated.
⇰« Face off » is one of his favorites since it provides great proximity and he does not need to move, which allows him to save his strength.
⇰ He really likes missionary although over time he finds it a little difficult to support himself, cowgirl is also a good option so he can keep his energy up.
Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
⇰ Viktor is quite serious and romantic, he thinks that sex is an intimate moment and he would not like to burst the bubble of calm that he and his partner will have created with a poorly placed joke.
⇰ On the other hand, at the beginning of his relationship, when he is still inexperienced, one or two little jokes from his partner will help him realx a little.
Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
⇰ Viktor is very well groomed, from hair to his —non-existent—beard to pubic hair. He will not remove everything but will make sure that there is not too much and that it does not bother his partner during a blowjob for example.
⇰ Also, I don't think that he really cares if his girlfriend shaves or not. He will never impose this choice on her and if she asks his opinion he will answer that she is perfect with, as without.
Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
⇰ As said above, Viktor is very romantic and sweet. He wants everything to be perfect and takes great care of his partner.
⇰ He will often ask her how she feels and if she likes what he does, especially at the beginning of their relationship when he won’t be very sure of what he does.
⇰ He's the type to plan a romantic dinner, even though he doesn't really know how to cook and doesn't have time, and a nice hot bath before sexy time.
Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)
⇰ Before being in a relationship he didn't really think about it, maybe once a month. He was far too busy with his work to feel any lack of sex.
⇰ Once he begins to explore his intimacy he will feel a little more desire but he will wait to be with his partner most of the time.
⇰ He finds that his hand does not give him the same pleasure that is girlfriends hand does.
Kink (One or more of their kinks)
⇰ I already talked about it above but a treesome with Jayce is clearly on his mind, I even think that it's more than a fantasy and that he has real feelings for his friend although he’s struggling to accept it.
⇰ Maybe a breeding kink ? I feel like Viktor would want a family, but he never talks about it since he finds it would be selfish to have a child knowing that he probably only has a few years left.
Location (Favorite places to do the do)
⇰ Viktor prefers above all the comfort of his sheets, he is rather classic and his condition does not allow him to do it everywhere, the bathroom and the living room are also good options.
⇰ He would be willing to try in the laboratory, but i will talk more about it later.
Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
⇰ Honestly, he doesn't need much, Viktor is a big fan of caresses and kisses. Usually a few kisses on the neck are enough for him.
NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
⇰ Viktor will never agree to hurt the reader, even if it wouldn't bother her, he simply wouldn't be able to do it. Everything that is impact play, breath play or electrostimulation is a no no for him.
⇰ Same for humiliation and dirty talk, he wouldn't be able to speak badly to his partner, he loves her too much to call her a "whore" and "slut" and for dirty talk he simply wouldn’t know what to say.
Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
⇰ Viktor likes to provide pleasure in many different ways and oral is one of his favorite ways. He loves hearing his partner and feeling her thighs tighten around his head.
⇰ Even though he had no experience, he learned very quickly by listening and watching his girlfriend's reactions.
⇰ He will never say no to a blowjob even though he clearly prefers to give. I think it's also because he doesn't do much during penetration and for him, foreplay is a way of making up for.
Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
⇰ His condition does not allow him to do crazy things and, anyway, Viktor likes to take his time and savor the sensation of being inside his partner.
⇰ Generally it’ not him who moves and he will not be very complicated, he’ll follow what his partner wants and will help her as best he can with his hands on her hips.
⇰ It's a bit the same thing for foreplay, he watches the pace that his girlfriend prefers.
Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
⇰ Viktor is not a big fan of quickies, I don't think he would refuse if his partner initiated one, just before a meeting for example.
⇰ But it is true that he clearly prefers to take his time in the comfort of their bed. A quickie doesn't really allow him to take care of his girlfriend and for him foreplay--yes again-- is very important.
⇰ So maybe once or twice a week.
Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
⇰ At the start of his relationship no, it's still very new for him and he prefers to explore his sexuality calmly and secretly.
⇰ But with time and if his partner wishes, he would be willing to add a little bit of risk in their sex life, a quickie in his laboratory for example.
Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
⇰ It all depends on whether we are only talking about penetration or we are also counting foreplay, and the positions used.
⇰ Viktor likes to make foreplay last, because he likes to provide pleasure to his partner but also because he knows that during penetration she will surely be the one who moves the most. Generally these last around thirty minutes and more if his girlfriend decides to take care of him.
⇰ Depending on the positions—for penetration—used, it could last three or even four rounds if he is in good shape and has been able to rest. Unfortunately, the more his health deteriorated, the more difficult it would be for him to last long and catch his breath.
Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
⇰ Before being in a relationship he never had one, but after a few discussions with his partner and if he sees that she enjoys using them he will do some research and decide to get some for her.
⇰ He won’t use them on himself but will like to give pleasure to the reader with them, compared to some men he does not think that using them means that he does not know how to satisfy his partner.
⇰ Maybe if he finds himself having free time and especially if the lab is free, he would be able to create one himself. He will take into account the toys that give the reader the most pleasure and make combinations or others—yes I saw the hexstrap—.
Unfair (how much they like to tease)
⇰ Viktor is not really a tease, he may tease his partner here and there by preventing her from cumming once or twice but generally it does not last long.
⇰ He prefers much more to hear her take pleasure and admire her losing all her means.
Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
⇰ The first times Viktor will be quite embarrassed by his moans and will try to hold back but it’a stronger than him, with a few reassuring words he will let go and no longer hold back.
⇰ He grunts more than moans and closes his eyes while frowning, he is very expressive in the act.
Wild care (Get a random headcanon)
⇰ I think that Viktor would like his partner to find someone after his death. He will hesitate a lot before getting into a relationship, telling himself that it would be selfish.
⇰ He would talk to her about it, telling her that she deserves to be happy after him, he would not be jealous and would simply hope that she does not completely forget him after his death, that she keeps a small place for him in his heart.
X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)
⇰ Physically Viktor is thin but slender, so I think that his dick is the same thing, so maybe 16cm in length and 12cm in girth—i’m bad at this so i’m gonna stop here help.—
Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
⇰ Quite moderate, before getting with his partner he never thought about it.
⇰ Also, Viktor is often overwhelmed by his responsibilities and work, so he is exhausted most of the time. However, this does not prevent him from feeling desire for his girlfriend, on the contrary, he wants to touch her every time he sees her.
⇰ I think that if he were less tired and had better health, he would be much more active.
Zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
⇰ He usually falls asleep first, after about ten minutes and a few cuddles. The next day, having the habit of waking up very early, he will make up for it with a breakfast in bed which he will often have difficulty making.
⇰ The more the years pass, the less he will be able to perpetuate this little ritual and finally, he will simply wake up his beloved with kisses filled with love.
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moonstruckme · 5 months ago
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hello mae baby please may you write a fic with anyone u like with a reader who is really drunk and the other person is taking care of her and she thinks she is annoying and they ar like why would u think that i love looking after u and some tenderness maybe with mauruaders but actually with whoever you’d like mae u are so nice and lovely and kind bye bye’!!!!
Hi lovely, thank you so much for requesting!
cw: alcohol
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
You know Remus is reading when you get home, because he doesn’t call for you and you are not quiet as you come inside. You drop your keys while trying to hang them on the hook, your bag bounces off the chair you toss it onto and falls noisily onto the floor, and your body lists as you walk towards your bedroom so that you bump your shoulder into the wall not once but twice. Your entry is a series of clatters and crashes and clunks, and yet when you make it to the bedroom your boyfriend’s attention is glued to his book as though by hypnosis. 
“Hi.” The word curves with the smile that takes you, tilting upwards. Remus looks up. 
“Hi, dovey.” He blinks foggily, taking you in with your hip leaned against the doorjamb and your ankles crossed awkwardly. “How was book club?” 
You feel your smile widen with delight. “It was great,” you profess. You aim for him, and Remus takes his book in one hand, holding the other out like he means to catch you. You land on the edge of the bed on your stomach, your feet dangling just above the floor behind you. “Everyone loved my banana bread.” 
“A show of good judgment,” Remus hums. He reaches behind you, helping you get your shoe off. “Is there any left?” 
One shoe comes free, and you let your foot fall back. “Mm, there was, but I left it for Maria.” 
Remus stops messing with your other shoe to look at you disappointedly. 
“I know, but she hosted! I had to be nice. I’ll make you another one soon.” 
He sighs, but it’s for show. Your other shoe slides off. “Fine, I suppose since she hosted.” 
“I knew you’d get it.” You pull your legs onto the bed and sit up, grinning at your boyfriend. He likes to play at selfishness, but you know he’d have done the same. Even if you’d asked, he would have told you to leave the bread. And he breaks easily now, returning your smile with one of his own. It feels like a warm tide rushing over you. 
“Oh. I feel like I should also warn you, I had quite a bit of wine.” 
Remus’ tongue presses into his cheek, a sort of outward-poking dimple. “Did you?”
“A little,” you say coyly, looking at him through your lashes. “It was sparkling and really yummy, what was I supposed to do?” 
“A valid point.” 
“So that’s just your warning. You’ve been warned.” 
“I will proceed with caution,” he assures you, a warmth to his voice. “What did everyone think of the book?”
“Oh.” You raise your eyebrows at him excitedly. “There was controversy. Big controversy. I super loved it, but a lot of other people thought it was the worst one she’d done so far!” 
“Really?”
“Yeah. They made some valid points, but I don’t know, maybe I’m easy to please, but I didn’t care about any of that stuff as much as I cared that I’d had a good time reading it, you know? And then everyone was giving their rankings of her books, and there were just some really crazy choices. Some people thought her second one was the best!” 
“No.” Remus manages to look upset for your sake, though he’s only heard about the books from you. “Did they really?” 
Your smile blooms anew at his enthusiasm, and you feel, suddenly urgently, that you’re not close enough to him. You move into his lap, but that’s not good enough either. At this point, Remus is looking at you with a fond, bemused sort of intrigue. You must be predictable enough, because only a soft puff of laughter exhales him when you start to worm your way under his sweater. 
It’s warm. You consider, for a moment, simply staying in there, with Remus’ chest and his smell and the sound of your own breathing, but ultimately decide you’d like to see him, too. You’d miss him too much. 
“Hello,” he says, not unhappily, as you break the surface of his neckline.
“Hi,” you say back. 
“To what do I owe this visit?” 
You shrug. It’s an odd movement, one of your shoulders stretching his sweater while the other bumps against his chest. “I wanted to be with you. It’s quite nice in here.” 
Remus only hums, tilting his head down to kiss your nose. It’s a slow, fond kiss, like he’s just decided to rest his lips there for a moment or two. It sends pleasant warm tingles from your face all the way down to your fingertips. 
“What else did you talk about?” he asks. 
“Hm?” 
“In book club.” 
“Oh. Well, not everyone there had read her other books, so we had to sort of get into the patterns and the things she always does. Some of it was routine for us, but totally unexpected for them, which makes sense I guess because…” 
You go on in circles and loops that even you can’t keep track of, your mind lax and happy and your lips moving seemingly on autopilot. You talk about the book itself and the people you read it with, and about the girl who’d hosted and how she’d had the cutest dog you’d ever seen, and does Remus remember that time you went to the animal shelter and saw that adorable puppy? Well, you mean no offense to the puppy because he was very cute, but this girl’s dog is even cuter than that. 
It’s an incalculable stretch of time later that you realize Remus has put down his book. 
“Oh, my god.” You lean your forehead on his shoulder. When you close your eyes, you feel like you’re floating. You really must be worse than you thought. “I’m so sorry. You were trying to read.” 
“Before you got home, yeah,” says Remus, his tone indulgent, “but now I’m talking to you.” 
“Yeah, because I won’t shut up because I’m all drunk,” you lament. “I know how annoying that is.” 
“Hey.” Your boyfriend’s voice is tender. “Who said anything about that? I’m not annoyed.” 
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, sweetheart. Why would you assume that I was? I love talking to you.” 
You try to look up at him, and your nose bumps his chin violently. “Oh.” You try to draw back, but there’s nowhere to go. You’re confined to the neckline of Remus’ sweater. One of your hands snakes up to touch clumsily at his chin. “Shit, I’m sorry.” 
Remus tsks, his own hands coming on either side of your face to hold you still. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. Are you?” He runs a thumb gingerly over the bridge of your nose. 
It’ll probably bruise a little tomorrow, but that’s not something you’re going to tell him tonight. “Yeah,” you say meekly. “Thanks for dealing with me. It’s really nice of you.” 
“Oh, don’t,” he shushes you, pressing another gentle kiss to your nose. “I’m not being nice, sweetheart. And you’re not something to be dealt with. I love looking after you; it doesn’t cost me anything to do it.” 
You try to shrink down inside his sweater, and Remus tsks. 
“Tell me this, if I was blackout and legless, would you mind chatting with me and taking care of me?” 
“I’m not blackout drunk, Rem.” 
“For argument’s sake, let’s say.” 
You press your lips together, not wanting to concede the argument but your answer categorical. “No.” 
“Right, because you’ve done it before.” Remus looks at you with equal parts kindness and knowingness. “And were you annoyed with me then?” 
You’re almost offended he’d ask. “Of course not.” 
“I see.” His tongue pokes into his cheek again, lips quirking slightly. “Seems like that sort of thing might go both ways, no?” 
You push your face into his neck and sigh hard into his skin, making a little sound bubble up in his chest that sounds suspiciously giggle-esque. 
“You don’t always have to be right, you know.” 
“I usually am, though.” He wraps his arms around his own front, giving you a squeeze. “Best settle into that fact, dovey. It’ll make things much more efficient for us both.” 
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madschiavelique · 2 years ago
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okay so once miguel accidentally flashed his happy trail to his gf, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, constantly staring at his abdomen when she thought miguel didn’t see her (he did 😁). they just recently started dating, she was shy and inexperienced but she is just a human after all 😔 she lasted a week before she came to him looking embarrassed, desperate and defeated “miggy can you teach me how to suck your dick please 🥺👉🏻👈🏻”
long story short we need some good old dick appreciation 😉
AAAAA THIS IS SO SWEET i love it hehehe
summary : you ask miguel to teach you how to suck his dick (not proofread)
contents warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, blow job (miguel receiving), lots of praise, miguel is so sweet and patient in this word count : 2,9k
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All it had taken was a casual glance, and your mind was infatuated with the idea. You were spending some time in Miguel's quarters when it happened, when your eyes were blessed by the sight before you.
He'd just got out of the shower, and as he hurriedly pulled on his T-shirt on the way out, his untied jogging bottoms had dropped slightly until your eyes drifted to his stomach and you saw it: his happy trail.
You'd only seen it for a brief moment, Miguel's T-shirt covering it all too shortly after that blessed vision, and his hands properly re-tying the elastic of his jogging bottoms.
But it was enough to occupy your thoughts for days. As he was often dressed in his spider suit, you had very little opportunity to think about seeing it again, other than in its civilian clothes. But that didn't stop you from occasionally glancing down at his belly, and sometimes even lower. The moments when you realised what your eyes were looking for were often followed by a flush in your cheeks and the back of your neck.
It's just that... you didn't necessarily have a great deal of experience in this field, and you were immensely curious. You also wondered if Miguel was holding back. You'd already talked about it, and you wanted to take it slow, because after all you and Miguel hadn't been dating for very long.
But you were getting impatient by the day, so you tried to visit him a little more in his private appartment. Miguel seemed to find this suspicious, but how could you explain to him that your thoughts had been riveted on a single subject for days, and that was his happy trail and what was below it ?
You were trying to convince him to wear civilian clothes more often, using arguments along the lines of "when we're together you don't need to wear the suit, you wear it mainly for work, so when you're with me you don't need to wear it."
And then, you thought maybe giving him a blow job would relax him? He seemed so tense quite often, and you wanted him to feel good, you wanted to make him feel good.
And as the days went by, the questions multiplied. Is it big ? Of course it is, but how big ? Could your hand grab him properly or would you struggle with the width ? How did he taste in your mouth? What sounds would he make when you'd lick him ? How do you even... give a blow job ?
It was when your curiosity became unbearable and your own questions too much for you that one afternoon, while you were sitting in Miguel's apartment and he hadn't yet returned, you asked Lyla:
"Lyla, send me a good article on How To Give A Blow Job, please."
The orange pixel cloud had almost immediately taken off its heart-shaped tinted glasses.
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, eyes wide while her programmed eyelids fluttered as she watched you, "a good article on what?"
"You heard me very right, your system is 100% perfect: I want you to give me a good article on-"
"Yeah yeah i get it i'm just, um, surprised." she admitted, a virtual screen forming in the form of a tablet in her hands as she paused, hesitating and turning to you, "would you perhaps be interested in... different material?"
You raised an eyebrow, taking your computer and resting it on your thighs.
"What material ?"
"Well you know, the material," she replied with a little shrug.
"Huh?" you said, frowning as Lyla raised her eyebrows completely, as if taken aback by your answer.
"Let me just send you a link," she replied, sighing.
Within seconds, you received a link and opened it. It took you to a video that launched instantly. You gasped, immediately pausing and closing your computer. But your eyes had caught it well: two naked people, a woman lying between a man's legs as she took him in her mouth.
You hesitated between finding a way to fry Lyla's motherboard or congratulating her, but in the end you did neither. Any learning ways still brings knowledge somehow, right ?
You took a deep breath, then hesitantly reopened your computer. The page was still open, the video stopped on a scene that could not have been more erotic. Perhaps learning the basics wouldn't be too much?
So you started the video, turning the sound down to almost minimum, and watched. You tried to pay attention to the woman's gestures, how her hands acted, how she angled her head, how she...
"Cariño?"
The speed with which you closed the page and your computer surprised even you as you faced Miguel. Shit, he'd got home earlier than you thought, and you just hoped he hadn't heard too much…
"Oh babe you're home!" you say jovially, trying to act as if nothing had happened, hoping he hadn't noticed. "How was your day?"
He was standing up straight, one of his eyebrows raised. He took a step.
"Were you watching what I think you were watching?"
Shit, he'd definitely noticed. How could you want to escape from a spider on a situation like this with tenfold senses? You bit the inside of your lip nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. Who knows, though, as long as he hadn't said exactly what he thought you'd seen, you might have a chance of getting out of this... however slim the chances?
"And," you asked as he took another step in your direction, your hands moving your laptop to the side as you turned to face him, cross-legged, "what do you think I was watching?"
He let out a little laugh from his nose, his tongue running over his canine teeth as he moved a little closer to you again.
"Don't play this little game with me." he said simply, your lips pressing into a thin line, "I think you and I both exactly know what was on that screen of yours just a few seconds ago."
You sighed, your shoulders relaxing with the gesture as he approached again, only a metre from the bed.
"Well yes, i was watching... what you think it is." he nodded as he crossed his arms over his vast torso.
"Porn," he affirmed, the word falling easily from his lips.
"Yes," you said with an embarrassed chuckle, "that's the name for it..." you nodded, his eyes watching you, no doubt trying to find out the reason behind this. "But I had my own reasons to do so, of course," you said to clear your throat.
"Which were?" his responses to your sentences were so quick that they seemed to stick to your every word.
You inhaled, straightening up, suddenly determined. The vision of his happy-trail came back into your mind, your eyes inevitably landing on where it must have been under the suit.
"Miguel," your eyes returned to his, "I want you to teach me how to suck your dick, please."
There was silence for a few seconds before Miguel smiled, the smile turning into a small laugh, his amused eyes looking into yours confused.
"So that's what the looks were about?"
You froze, your cheeks heating even more. All those looks you'd been giving him, all directed at his lower stomach and more, he'd noticed. You fancied the idea disappearing down a hole right now, and placed your hands on your face in embarrassment.
"Hey hey," he said softly, coming to kneel in front of you as his two large hands came to rest on yours to move them away from your face. "It's okay, it's just," he caressed your cheek, "took you long enough muñeca, you could've just asked me."
"I know," you said, your hand sliding over his as you pressed your cheek closer, "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about," he assured you, "but in the future, whenever you're thinking about something like that, or anything, you have to tell me. Okay ?"
You smile softly, "Okay."
He came over and kissed your lips chastely.
"So," he said, taking your hand in his, "you want to learn how to do this?"
You inhaled, nodding. He came to kiss you again tenderly, coming to sit on the bed and lay down. He pulled you against him as you kissed, his hand coming to rest on your for a second. He stopped the kiss for a moment, tapping his watch gently. You were so happy of finally being able to do this, you couldn't wait anymore.
"Learned anything from the video?" he asked, glancing at you.
You said nothing, just tilted your head slightly to one side as you shrugged on all fours above him.
"We'll see, but be careful with that kind of stuff. A lot of it doesn't really show anything actually pleasant, it's all for show. Alright? Cariño?" he informed, coming to stroke your cheek again as you nodded. "Good."
Then his suit began to depixelate, and your eyes lowered until you finally saw the happy trail again, and what was just below it.
Okay, now there might be a problem you thought, because the dick the girl was sucking in the video, which was hard, just approached the same size as Miguel's... which wasn't hard yet. He was, and will be too big for what you were about to do.
"Everything is alright cariño?" he asked worriedly, "are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," you replied immediately, perhaps a little too eagerly.
A small smile spread across his lips.
"Good. If you're not sure what to do, I can give you small tips as you go along."
You nodded once more, your eyes dropping to his perfect torso. You lowered your face gently, kissing his skin gently, gradually working your way down to his navel.
He breathed softly, and you felt his skin grow grainy under your kisses. Then you finally reached his body hair, your hand resting on the sheets and gently caressing his hip as you placed soft kisses on his happy trail. A sigh of relief escaped from between his lips. The object of all your desires for a week was finally here, close to your touch.
Then, just a few centimetres lower, you came to face his cock. Your eyes locked with Miguel's for a moment as you kissed his groin, then coming to kiss his shaft running your lips along the base of his it.
You heard him inhale as the fingers of your other hand gently wrapped around him, holding him tenderly as you placed a trail of pecks from the base of his dick to his tip. You placed kitten kisses there as you felt him harden and grow between your fingers and against your lips.
This encouraged you, as you no doubt told yourself that you were doing the right thing for his body to react like that.
"Spit will help you, nena," Miguel murmured, surrendering gently to your touch.
You nodded, sticking your tongue out between your teeth to lick his tip, a low grunt echoing in Miguel's chest as you gathered drool on the sides of your cheeks to run down his length and lick him further. Your hand spread the saliva a little more evenly as you kissed your way down to his balls. Then, placing your whole tongue on his base, you worked your way up his entire length.
"This feels so good muñeca," he breathed, one of his hands gently stroking your hair.
You let a little more drool trickle down, your hand spreading it a little more evenly as you pulled the foreskin back to expose the head, kissing the uncovered pink and licking it gently as Miguel sighed and moaned. You made circular movements with your tongue, your eyes resting on Miguel from time to time.
"There's a spot, just under-"
But no sooner had he started his sentence than you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue slide under his tip, just underneath the crown, like you had seen the woman do.
"Yes, there," Miguel breathed shakily, his eyes closing as his head fell back on the pillow, "right there, just like that."
You let your tongue flick back and forth on that spot, beautiful moans rumbling in Miguel's throat. You readjusted his cock in your hand and then gently took his tip into your mouth, letting your tongue slide underneath him.
He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling in a long sigh of pleasure. Your mouth was so warm and wet and your tongue was incredible: perfect for him.
"You feel so good," he whispered, biting his lip, his half-closed eyes coming to rest on yours.
He was thick, and you were trying your best to make sure your mouth was wide open enough to contain him but also to keep the right pressure around him. So, breathing in gently to loosened your jaw, sank a couple of centimetres deeper around him, then pulled up slightly.
You started at a slow pace, taking your time to get used to all this and remember to breathe properly, but also to savour the moment. You relaxed your lips as you lowered yourself onto him, then pressed them once you got up, letting your tongue stretch out as soon as you came up to caress that sweet spot he'd mentioned.
"Be careful with the teeth, muñeca" he said softly as your teeth surreptitiously grazed his skin.
You widened your mouth a little more, breathing in so that your cheeks hollowed out and pressed against him.
"You're doing so good for me," he murmured, his hand still on your hair, caressing it even more.
His praise encouraged you even more, and you thought maybe it would be good to step it up a level. So you sank down on him a little too hastily, and he bumped your throat very lightly as you immediately pulled away, coughing slightly thanks to your gag reflex. How could the lady in the video make it look so simple ? You felt ridiculous.
"Hey, slow down," smiled Miguel as he straightened up a little to reassure you, "all the way down will take a bit more time, but you're already doing so good for me, arlight ?" He caressed your cheek. "No need to rush it."
You nodded softly, although you could have guessed that you wouldn't be able to take all of him in your mouth, especially with the little experience you had, you could still pleasure him.
You weren't just here to make him come, you were here to make him feel good because you wanted him to feel good. 
So you went back to kissing his tip, letting your tongue coat it again before taking it back into your mouth. You knew you couldn't suck the whole thing straight away, so you took his shaft in your hand, pumping softly. You let a little more saliva spill out as you remembered the movement of the woman's hand in the video.
You started twisting your hand clockwise while sucking on him, your tongue occasionally hardening near his sweet spot and the tip. He was making heavenly moans, his fingers weaving through your hair, his hips starting to move on their own.
"You look gorgeous," he moaned tenderly.
A low moan rose from your throat and vibrated against him, his head sinking into the pillow as his back arched, his fingers becoming a little firmer and gripping your hair.
When your jaw began to tire, you wrapped your second hand around his cock, twisting it counter-clockwise, your mouth concentrating more on the head. Your hands applied more pressure as you pulled back, and since your hands were twisting around him, you started softly twisting your head as well.
His hips dictated a rhythm that you followed, a little faster every instant, his hand on your head guiding you in the rhythm.
"You're amazing," he breathed.
You hollowed your cheeks, his rhythm quickening as his moans multiplied. He was going to come, and you would accept it with longing.
His breath became more and more ragged, and after a powerful moan and a single thrust of his hip, you felt it spill over your tongue. He was out of breath, and realising what he'd just done, he pulled out of your embrace confused:
"I'm so sorry!" he said, referencing your tongue covered in his cum, "It was just so good i forgot to pull out, you don't have to-"
But you pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth until the substance dripped down your throat and you swallowed. The taste was slightly salty, but nothing special.
"Swallow," he finished, a smile stretching his lips, surprised.
He straightened, pulling you to him for a gentle kiss.
"You did so great nena, really, I'm so proud of you. You were amazing... you are amazing."
A smile stretched your lips as he caressed your cheek and you came to kiss him again, delighted to have finally been able to taste your desire.
Bonus:
"So, was the material I sent you helpful?" asked Lyla.
"Very," you admitted, "excellent choice."
"What material ?" asked Miguel, confused.
"The new one for an upcoming suit," replied Lyla.
"I'm not sure we're talking about fabric here," remarked Miguel, slightly suspicious as he left the room and you winked at Lyla.
7K notes · View notes
1d1195 · 7 months ago
Text
Sunflower
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~7.2 k words
From Me: Requested by my 🍓-anon. Sorry it took some time. I took a couple liberties (mostly because I love food a lot so I couldn't make it taste bad hahahaha) I hope you like it! I'm going to post your ask with the request tomorrow. 💕 Right now it's just the one part (but I feel like some may want a second).
Warnings: fluffy and a bit of jealous Harry. Nothing too angsty though this time around.
Summary: Harry has a high paying job that allows him to eat at some of the finest restaurants in the city. But the little bistro that has good drinks and a great staff is by far his favorite. Or maybe it's the waitress he can't get out of his head that has him coming back so often.
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“Are you sure this is the place?” Sarah looked skeptical.
“I swear,” Mitch smiled. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but the drinks are good and so are the apps.”
Harry watched the banter of his two best friends. “How did you even come across this place?” Sarah asked as Mitch held the door open for her to enter. Harry took hold of it so Mitch could follow after her. There were no more than fifteen tables and a bar. It was fairly dark but in a good way.
If anything, it contrasted sharply with the sunflowers at nearly every turn. There was a mural painted on the back wall of bright flowers against the dark paint. Each table had a bright blue glass vase with a single sunflower stem in the middle of the table. The aprons the staff wore were covered in a floral print of a garden of sunflowers. It was stunning. Bright and beautiful.
“Aptly named,” Sarah smirked.
Harry chuckled. “S’nice,” he agreed.
Harry and Sarah continued their observation while Mitch waited patiently at the host stand. “I came here for lunch with a client,” he said answering Sarah’s earlier question. “Their friend owns it.” After another moment they were brought to a table. There weren’t many people there; given they were there at two in the afternoon on a Saturday it wasn’t so surprising. The bar was nearly filled, several patrons seemed to be regulars as they got a say in what sporting event got to be on the TV. Only two other tables were filled and there was no need for a bustling staff. “I came for dinner, and it was full capacity with a line. But when you know the owner, you get a table early. They have a little outdoor patio around back too but it’s seasonal.”
The three of them looked over the menu in silence. Until Sarah broached the subject of getting one of every type of appetizer and then there was their daily debate of which appetizer was best and maybe they would have to do one of each since they wouldn’t be able to decide which was best.
Their debate was interrupted by the waitress coming over to introduce herself.
“Hi everyone, welcome to The Sunflower Bistro, have you been here before?”
“I have,” Mitch smiled. “We’re arguing over an appetizer, what do you think?”
Without pausing, she didn’t help the debate. “Oh, one of each,” she giggled.
“See! I told you!” Sarah lightly smacked Mitch’s arm.
This only made her smile grow. “Can I take your drink order while you narrow your choices?” She asked.
There was an exchange of words. Words Harry didn’t hear. But then Sarah and Mitch were looking at him expectantly.
“Harry?” Mitch asked.
“A drink, hello?” Sarah laughed.
Quickly he shook his head. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat, his eyes glancing down at the menu but unable to read anything. “Just water for now,” he murmured unable to make eye contact with her.
“I’ll be right back,” her voice was sweet and pretty.
“Are you alright?” Mitch asked.
“She’s beautiful,” Harry mumbled. “I can’t even look at her.”
When he saw her approach, he was immediately tongue-tied. Overwhelmed. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Or a garden. Or a painting in a museum. There wasn’t a way to pinpoint what made her so beautiful. It seemed to be everything. The way her hair was clipped behind her head and just a few soft pieces framed her cheeks. Her bright smile. Her sparkling eyes. The way the sunflower apron cinched her hips. All of it. Or none of it. She was beautiful. Overwhelmingly so. Harry swore he forgot how to breathe. He had been in love before—at least he thought he had been. This wasn’t comparable.
So he couldn’t even look at her.
Sarah giggled. Enjoying the way her friend’s face turned pink at the admission. Mitch smiled. “Aw Harry’s got a crush!”
“Shut up, she’ll hear!” Harry snapped and put the menu in front of his face, hiding from the rest of the restaurant.
“Oh my God,” Sarah laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I could not look at her,” Harry mumbled putting the menu over his face.
“She’s very pretty,” Sarah agreed and reached out to squeeze Harry’s arm. “But you have to look at her.”
Harry’s heart was racing. Like he was sprinting on the treadmill or in the middle of a phone call with an important client. Harry had been nervous before. The exams in college, his first interview, on-boarding new clients. This wasn’t comparable either. “I really don’t think I can, Sarah.”
“Did we make any decisions?” Her kind voice returned, and Harry scanned the menu eagerly, his cheeks still flushed, he was sure.
“Honestly, no,” Sarah laughed. “We’ve been admiring how beautiful this place is.”
And you, Harry thought.
“Oh, I know, it’s practically dreamy working here. The sunflowers are the perfect flower. It’s so sunny and fun,” she explained.
“Have you worked here long?” Mitch asked.
“Yes, since it opened. My friend owns it. It’s like a family kind of thing around here. It’s so nice,” she looked so happy to talk about this place. Passionate. “Niall’s really nice about me going to school and getting me the shifts I want.”
“Oh, that’s so nice! What are you studying?”
Harry wanted to involve himself in the conversation, but he was so speechless by her kind sweet presence, it was impossible to think of a word to say to her. He was grateful his two friends were there to carry the flow of dialogue because it was apparent Harry was going to be useless in that regard.
“Harry also went for a degree in finance,” Sarah segued to look at Harry. He missed her response. That was evident. He would ask when she went back to place their orders what was said specifically.
He looked at her, fully. He hoped he wasn’t staring at her to the point that she wanted to hide and run away from him because he was being a creep. After a pause that was a brief longer than he would have liked, he cleared his throat. “I graduated a couple years ago. I work for a large accounting firm,” it was a miracle he didn’t stutter from how nervous he was. He was holding the menu still to keep his hands from shaking.
Her smile brightened. She looked genuinely happy for Harry. He imagined she was anything but disingenuous, but still. For a complete stranger, who could barely utter two sentences to her, she bubbled with excitement at this knowledge of getting to know him. “Oh! That’s amazing! Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m graduating this spring,” she explained. “I’m super nervous about the whole internship process...I feel like it’s super difficult and overwhelming.”
“Harry’s still in touch with the person he did his internship with,” Mitch volunteered.
He wasn’t. At least...not to the degree that Mitch was suggesting. “Well, I’ll have to give you my card,” she winked at him. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to decide on appetizers.”
Harry felt some kind of crushing relief to watch her walk away. Which was ridiculous because the moment she was gone, he realized how badly and stupidly he wanted her to come back. He could barely even talk to her, but her presence made him happy. Deliriously so.
Sighing, he turned to Sarah. “Am I ruining m’first impression?” He asked.
Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Not at all.”
Harry really hoped not. “I’ve never felt like this,” he mumbled and decided bare minimum, he needed to pick something to eat. At least he could repeat it in his head a few times before she returned and not embarrass himself while ordering.
Hopefully.
*
Like the perfect waitress, she came back to check their food was good and their drinks were refilled. Mitch was right. The drinks were good and so was the food. “Can I get you guys anything else?” She asked sweetly. Fortunately, Harry managed to order his own food without Sarah or Mitch’s help. He didn’t stammer and didn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.
“No thank you,” Sarah turned to Harry. “Did you want to give her your card as well?” She asked. Harry felt like he was having an allergic reaction. His skin felt hot, and he thought that his throat was closing. Part of him wanted to kick Sarah beneath the table but a small piece of him was grateful for her direction and encouragement because it was evident he couldn’t do this on his own. He was prepared to give her his whole wallet. Credit cards, cash, anything in there was hers.
“Er...right,” Harry fumbled, his hands shaking as he opened it.
Harry tried to keep his breath under control as their fingers brushed when she took the card from him. His heart was working triple the beating time it was supposed to from the soft touch that couldn’t have lasted more than a second. “Oh goodness, my card doesn’t look anything like this,” she frowned. “Please don’t judge how ridiculous it is, I thought it was cute and memorable,” she pulled a few cards from her apron pocket.
It was cute and memorable. He didn’t want her to change a thing. The top corners were webbed with a little sunflower vine. Otherwise, the card was white with a half-print, half-cursive font covered in blue. “Well, aren’t you a Jane-of-all-trades,” Sarah laughed. She had listed tutoring, babysitting, painting, lawn-mowing, cleaning, etc.
“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she admitted. She sighed. “I’m grateful to Niall as I’ve steered away from most of those odd jobs that my dad taught me,” she laughed again. “Waitressing, despite everything, is a lot more stable while I’m still in school. I made that when I was fresh out of high school. It needs a serious update.”
“Harry, where did you make your business cards?” Mitch asked.
If this were a regular day and Harry wasn’t so tongue-tied and nervous, he probably would have thanked his friends for their effort to support him in being his wingman and wingwoman. But he was so out of sorts, so unbelievably captivated and captured by her, he couldn’t fully use his brain. It was embarrassing. If she had even an inkling that he liked her, she probably wasn’t going to reciprocate merely because he was so embarrassing to listen to. There was no way someone so pretty would like him and his inability to speak.
What would their dates even look like? Her voice was so nice, like a song he hadn’t heard since he was young. The kind of song that made him believe in love even though he was young. Her laugh was probably adorable. Her smile was adorable so it could only be so. But she would want conversation. Right? Was she just to chat about her day and her feelings and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything but stare at her? Admiring how pretty she was?
Actually, that sounded like a pretty decent plan for Harry. But she deserved more.
So instead, he cleared his throat once more. “S’online. I’d have t’look up the website. But yours is memorable,” he assured her. “I like the colors.”
“Thanks, Harry,” God he loved the sound of her voice saying his name. Her adorable smile was so sweet he felt his heart melting. “It definitely needs an update now that I’m about to graduate though, please let me know if you find the website.”
Harry wanted to tell her that he would give her whatever she wanted for as long as they lived and then in their next life too. But instead, he simply nodded and tucked her card safely into his wallet.
*
“This is insane,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the door out of the way. It had been two days since he left The Sunflower Bistro and the pretty, sunflowery girl he was completely enamored with after hardly speaking to her. While her phone number weighed heavily in his wallet, he couldn’t bring himself to call her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to get a word out when she answered.
How he thought he was going to talk to her without Sarah and Mitch as a buffer was beyond him, but he couldn’t walk past this place either knowing he could see her and try to make up for his tragic first impression. “Hey Harry!” She said walking by the hostess stand. “Nice to see you again! Niall, can you put him in my section?” She asked.
Harry felt the words die in his throat, so he was glad he didn’t have to speak to Niall.
“A regular, hmm? Took you long enough,” Niall called after her.
“Had to hold out for a good one!” She shouted back and disappeared behind a door.
Harry wondered if all those times he had been in love before were real. His chest was fluttering with some emotion he hadn’t felt before then. It was a longing that filled every ounce of his lungs, every cell of his blood. Every inch of him. Like some kind of homing sound was coming from her and echoing in his body. He felt so unbelievably whole when he looked at her. Like he was seen.
Niall brought Harry to a table and smiled at him as he left.
“Hey! I was hoping you’d text or call, I figured it was my crummy card that deterred you. Or maybe it was unreadable,” that laugh of hers was a melody Harry wasn’t going to forget for the rest of his life. She leaned on the opposite side of the booth looking at him. Her hair was pulled back the same way as it was the other night. Silky and pretty. Harry wanted to slide his fingers through it more than anything. Her smile that had haunted all his thoughts at work and made him grin at his computer screen like a lunatic was also still just as earth shatteringly beautiful as last time. Made him tongue-tied just as he was last time.
“Um...yeah, no...,” he managed to smile at her joke. “M’jus’...” he shook his head trying to think of a reasonable excuse that would make any sense as to why he hadn’t called the pretty girl yet.
“Hey, no worries; I’m sure work keeps you busy!” Her voice was cheerful. “I’m glad to see you, is all. Are your friends coming?” His heart nearly stopped that she was glad to see him.
“Not this time,” he hoped that wouldn’t disappoint her because then he would call Mitch and Sarah and order them over. He still had a right mind to do so. Seemed to be the only way he would be able to talk to her more than a few mumbled words.
“Alright, well I’ll let you mull over the menu while I grab you a water. Unless you want something else?”
Drinking alcohol around her might make him fully mute. Or make him spill every thought he had. Without his friends as a buffer, both seemed heinous. “Water’s good.”
“I’ll be right back,” she flitted off like she was floating. Harry believed she was an angel so that made sense.
“C’mon Harry,” he mumbled to himself looking over the menu deciding what he would try today. He was fortunate the food was so good, and it would give him an excuse to come back more times than probably necessary so he could see her again.
“Here you are!” She practically chirped, setting his glass of water in front of him. She leaned against the opposite side of the booth again. “Anything look good?” She asked.
Her.
“Um...m’a fan of street corn,” he scanned the menu again.
“That’s probably my favorite app on there—or the pretzel bites with queso. It shouldn’t work but it does. The veggie soup here is criminally underrated but it’s not really soup season so no fault there. I’ll give you a couple more minutes,” she sauntered off again with her kind smile.
Harry wondered what her favorite song was and why she got into finance. He wanted to ask her what her least favorite subject was in school and what kind of music she listened to while she was cooking. Knowing her favorite candle and what kind of shampoo she used seemed like critical information he needed to know. He wanted to know how many siblings she had and whether or not she would want two kids or three.
All of which was ridiculous.
And further proof Harry had never been in love with anyone before he saw her.
*
Harry visited on Mondays and Fridays. It was a good way to start his week and a great way to end his week. Seeing her bookended by the workweek was nothing short of perfect.
He did this for three weeks. Niall merely smiled, as if he knew why he was there. Harry could feel his cheeks turn pink each time the staff gave him a knowing smile. It was obvious he was there to see her. To be placed in her section. “Hey Harry!” She chirped when he sat at his regular table.
Mitch and Sarah joined him twice more since the day they brought him. He was less tongue-tied but nearly just as shy. They gave him an immense amount of shit for being so smitten. But Sarah thought it was adorable. “You could just ask her out.”
“S’creepy,” he grumbled. “I doubt a waitress wants t’be hit on by their customer.”
“Right, coming twice a week just to see her isn’t creepy,” Mitch eyed him suspiciously as he sipped his drink.
Harry sighed in frustration and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. “I jus’—”
“Hey guys,” she nearly cooed so sweetly. Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m running a little behind today. I’m really sorry. This has been the longest double in the world,” her smile was still adorable. But she did look tired. Poor thing. “We’re down a server. And a line cook,” the exhaustion she felt was palpable.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah cooed. “Harry, scoot over, let her sit,” she ordered.
Harry did immediately. Simultaneously terrified and excited to be so close to her. “Oh, it’s alright. I just—”
“Seriously, darling,” Mitch smiled. “Sit,” he encouraged.
She did.
The warmth of her body rolled off her and wafted over Harry in waves. It was like a gentle hug. His heart was rapidly beating, as it always did but somehow even faster now that she was so close to him. “Thank you, my feet are killing me,” she sighed. “I need new shoes, but my car just ate up a big chunk of my paycheck,” she frowned. “When it rains it pours right?”
Harry was trying to figure out the best course of action to help her on every front. He already imagined her tip was going to be exorbitant and he hoped she wouldn’t be upset by that—because he truly wanted to help her. “Have y’eaten yet?” He asked softly.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “No, I have been running around like crazy. Totally missed my chance at lunch.”
“S’not good, love,” Harry frowned. He wanted to call her Miss Sunflower or something similar, but he had one neuron still keeping him sane and decided ‘love’ was more neutral than not.
She nodded in agreement. “I know, I shouldn’t even be sitting. I’m sorry to lay all that on you guys. You’re just the first nice group I’ve had all day. It’s like a break in itself—not that I won’t do what you need and—”
“Oh please,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “We can just fill this table for you if that will make your life easier. Don’t worry about us,” she assured her.
The relief on her face was so sweet. Harry struggled to not wrap her in a hug beside him. “Thank you guys. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve never had my own regulars before,” her smile was so cute Harry wanted to kiss every inch of her face. His skin felt warm sitting so close to her. Snaking his arm around her waist would be so easy, so effortless. “I’ll get you a round of drinks?” She asked as she stood from her seat beside Harry. “Anything to start with today?”
“Pretzel bites,” Harry blurted quickly. “Please.”
He hoped he could convince her to sit and have a few when they came to the table. “My favorite,” she grinned knowingly.
*
When Harry sat in her section, she knew it was going to be a good day. His sweet smile, his easy-going nature, and just his kind presence made her shift immensely better. “He’s here again,” Niall sang as he headed to the kitchen where she was putting together a to-go order for one of her tables.
Her cheeks warmed under Niall’s sing-song tone. “If your food wasn’t so good he wouldn’t be here.”
“Darling, he’s not here for the food,” Niall sounded the slightest bit exasperated. He had repeated himself of the same notion since the second time Harry showed up to be seated in her section. “If he was truly here for the food, would he have left you a massive tip like that to get new shoes?”
The implication was there, and maybe she was having a little more trouble ignoring it after getting way more money from him and his friends than she had ever gotten while waitressing. Her achy feet felt so much better with new shoes too. So, part of her struggled to ignore the fact that Harry was maybe, possibly, there because she was.
Harry never made her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she felt nothing but comfort by seeing him. He was quiet, sweet, and very easy to look at. It took considerable strength for her to not stand at his table forthe entire time he was seated in her section. Mondays and Fridays were her favorite days of the week. Chatting with him (even if he seemed a little shy at times) was the best part of her shifts. His smile was so charming. She wanted to tell him everything about her reflexively. It was completely disarming. Or maybe it was how green and deep his eyes were that nearly made her voice die in her throat. It took a lot of effort to remember her job was to go get drinks and food for him at regular intervals.
She really thought he wanted no part of her when she didn’t even get a text message from him after procuring one of her lame cards. Certainly, with silly little flowers and dumb odd jobs listed, he wanted to steer clear of her. But instead, he showed up a few days later in her section. It made her stomach twist with nervous butterflies flitting inside. There were a thousand thoughts running through her head as she admired her handsome customer from afar.
“Hi Harry,” she smiled sweetly as she approached his table. “How are you?” She asked politely.
“Good, how are you?” He answered.
“Good,” she responded. “I got new shoes,” she pointed a toe toward him for him to look at the new sneakers she chose. “That was extremely kind and overwhelming. You didn’t need to do that,” she bit the inside of her lip. “I tried to stop you guys from leaving once I realized, but Niall—”
“S’nothing, love,” his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at the compliment. Her heart skipped a beat at how adorable he was and looked. “Was a long day for you. I jus’ wanted t’help a little.”
She nodded feeling gratitude overwhelm her—it was thick in her throat. “Seriously, thank you,” she hoped he understood how appreciative she was. “No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”
“S’really no trouble,” he assured her with a smile that melted each of her organs to a puddle. She was lucky she stayed upright.
“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she turned and bumped into the table that was behind her causing the chair to scrape across the floor.
“Are y’okay, love?” Harry asked suddenly behind her. He gently touched the back of her arm creating a plethora of fireworks on her skin and in her heart. She shook her head and blushed nervously.
“I’m good. Clumsy me. I’ll get you your drink,” she nearly sprinted toward the bar so as not to embarrass herself further.
*
She was chatting with Harry, leaning against the booth. It was easy. Harry wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a great listener and when he did talk, everything he said was so kind and genuine. It was like talking to an old friend. Someone who just knew what she was thinking without her having to say much. There was this familiarity that was so warm it wrapped around her like a blanket. It made her feel so comfortable in his presence.
She never wanted to stop talking to him. Which was probably why she didn’t. Poor Harry listened to her chat his ear off for hours during the time he came to visit over the couple months of the semester. His quiet, “what’s that like?” Or, “do you enjoy this class?” And, “do you have a recommendation?” just kept her talking and talking.
It was hard for her to fathom Harry was there for her. Harry was graduated, had a real job, and made a ton of money it seemed if he was willing to tip a poor waitress an obscene amount of money for new sneakers. His clothes were nice, and his hair was perfectly styled. He always looked like he was ready for a business call.
His friends were extremely nice and friendly. They were also put together in a way that she never dreamed she could be so it was hard to imagine a situation in which Harry might possibly, kind of, have a crush on her the way she had one on him.
She was mid conversation with Harry. The fall semester had end and she was going to pick up more shifts somehow but was definitely going to catch up on sleep as well. She was praying that Harry would put her out of her pining misery and tell her he had a girlfriend one of these days. “You have to try this new dish! It has the brussels sprouts you like and—”
She was swept directly off the floor mid-sentence and was wrapped in a hug. It was familiar in a way that was different than the familiarity of Harry. Because she was used to this kind of hug. “Hey beautiful,” he cooed in her ear.
She smiled excitedly. “Hi, Jake! I thought you weren’t starting till this weekend!”
“I’m not, but I was nearby and thought I could use a dose of pretty,” he winked and headed toward the kitchen without another word.
She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry,” she murmured and turned to look at Harry again and finish the sentence she had started. “Anyway, the brussels spr—”
Harry had come to the restaurant in a lot of moods over the last few months. Tired, frustrated, happy, stressed, excited...she was pretty good at reading his expression and deciding what he needed or wanted to make his day better. This expression was unreadable. His jaw was tensed creating a sharp angle at his jawline she was sure it could have cut glass. His eyes were blank but watching her intensely. All of his muscles appeared taut—his posture ramrod straight. It almost looked uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.
Harry blinked, shook his head quickly, and cleared his throat. “Uh...yeah. Sorry,” he reached for his glass of water and took a large gulp. “Y’were saying something ‘bout brussels sprouts,” he reminded her.
She bit the inside of her lip feeling a shift in the air around them. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Oh, right...just...I think you’ll like the special.”
He nodded. Still completely unreadable. “I’ll try it, thank you.”
“I’ll go...put that in,” she murmured and headed toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was still greeting Jake when she entered. Everyone was listening to him recount his semester abroad. “Whoa, did you see a ghost?” Niall asked, doing a double take when she entered.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” she punched her code into the computer and tapped the meal for Harry.
“Did Harry tell you he has a girlfriend?” Niall pressed.
“No,” she muttered, her cheeks burning red. She grabbed a plate off the shelf for the other table she was waiting on and made sure it had all the extra sides and things. She grabbed the second dish and placed it on her arm.
“Who’s Harry?” Jake asked.
“The love of her life,” Niall told him.
“Shut up, Niall.”
He chuckled. “Oh? Were you going to tell me about him?”
“I’m a bit busy right now.”
“You couldn’t text me?” Jake asked. Jake had been her best friend on the job since Niall opened the sunflowery place. They were a great dynamic duo. But Jake was into dating a lot of different women and that was totally fine and his prerogative. She didn’t judge him at all for being young and doing what he wanted. But she wanted no part of his love life. So they remained friends and it was truly better that way. He would bail her out if a customer was being rude or coming on too strong. She helped him with his math homework and made sure he remembered to drink something other than protein shakes and alcohol on the weekend.
“There’s nothing to write home about,” she mumbled, lying through her teeth and feeling devastated that something in the air shifted between them in a matter of seconds.
Niall snorted in disbelief. She glared at him. Jake smiled impishly while she gathered the final fixings for the table. “Where is he?” He asked as she pushed on the door.
“Jake,” she choked nearly losing the plate in her left hand.
“Niall, do you know him?” He looked expectantly at him. He smirked, opening his mouth to give him the details.
“Uh—”
“Niall!” She snapped. Niall closed his mouth immediately and shrugged at Jake.
She sighed with relief and pushed through to the restaurant floor. “Table thirty-four!” he shouted, muffled by the closed door. She glanced back to see him hovering over the computer.
It took every ounce of self-control to hold onto the dishes in her arms. She wanted to scream. She hurried to her table to deliver the food, prayed they wouldn’t ask for anything additionally, and then she nearly took out another waiter while running for Harry’s table on the other side of the restaurant.
Jake was letting go of Harry’s hand as she approached, and she shoved Jake out of the way. “I don’t know what he said but it’s not true.”
Harry smirked, a good sign of his normal smile and demeanor. “Y’not friends?” He questioned.
She punched Jake in the arm who barely registered the motion other than lightly rubbing his arm without breaking eye contact with Harry. “Not anymore,” she grumbled.
“She’s my work wife,” Jake said wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Can’t get her to commit to being my actual wife.”
“Don’t want any diseases,” she muttered. The blank, cold stare in Harry’s eyes returned and she felt so warm she tried to push against Jake but was unsuccessful. “Harry is also in finance,” she explained. “He offered to help me make a new business card—”
“Thank God,” Jake interrupted.
“—and he might know someone for an internship.”
Harry’s answer was gentle even though the cold stare didn’t waver. “Don’t think y’need t’change the business card all that much, love. S’sweet.”
“Childish and unprofessional,” she said pointedly.
“Agreed,” Jake squeezed her to his side. “Thanks for keeping her company while I was gone,” he said. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. But his facial expressions made up for it. He smiled politely, nodded, and glanced at his phone ringing.
“I have t’take this,” his voice was tight, apologetic.
“Of course, let’s go,” she yanked on Jake and headed toward the kitchen again.
“Not sure why you like him, he’s pretty cold,” Jake taunted as they returned to the kitchen.
“Cold?” Niall asked. “Harry makes her feel all warm and fuzzy,” he teased. She wrinkled her nose and definitely felt warm at the insinuation.
“He’s... not himself today,” she admitted. “I don’t know why,” she frowned and turned to Niall. “It’s weird.”
“Darling, you can’t be this brilliant and that stupid at the same time,” Niall pinched the bridge of his nose.
Her frowned deepened and she felt resentment for the notion of being stupid. “What are you—”
“He’s jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Of Jake,” Niall rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She snorted. “Why?” She blinked.
“Look at me,” Jake smiled proudly and gestured toward himself self-assuredly.
She eyed him briefly up and down. “What? You look like a tool who’s been abroad,” she remarked.
Jake shook his head, unaffected by her insult. “Think Harry might think I’m competition.”
“Why would he think that?”
“I mean, I did call you my wife.”
Niall laughed. “Oh God, poor Harry.”
Her face flamed. “I said we were friends!” She pouted. “Oh my God. Go back abroad,” she shoved him toward the door. “You are the worst.”
“Easy, love,” Jake continued to taunt, this time in Harry’s accent. “I can fix it,” he offered and headed back for Harry’s table quicker than she could catch him. But when they got there, his table was empty. A note scribbled on a napkin in Harry’s writing. Family emergency. Sorry :( Was looking forward to the brussels sprouts. You can have it on me. Next time. He left cash for the food and a tip anyway. Even though he never got his meal.
She pocketed the money and punched Jake in the arm one more time for good measure.
*
“You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right?” Sarah asked. “I know we aren’t best friends with her or anything, but she’s really nice. She wouldn’t lead you on like that.”
Harry knew that. Really, he did. But the emotion he was feeling wasn’t rational. Jake called her his wife and had his arm around her. He hugged her like he loved her. Harry was certain Jake loved her. Even in a way that wasn’t necessarily romantic, but it was...unfair. Unfair that Harry hadn’t told her he liked her. Nervous that he would make her uncomfortable by hitting on her while she was working.
“She wasn’t leading me on at all,” Harry murmured.
“All the more of a reason to not be ridiculous,” Sarah and Mitch had taken turns telling him it was childish to ignore her after all those months of chatting with her and entrenching himself as a regular and then to just not because he was jealous.
“Just because you’re jealous—”
“M’not jealous,” he grumbled.
“Right, because someone who’s not jealous would leave before he got his food because her friend called her his work wife. Someone who’s not jealous would suddenly stop being her regular after months.”
Like clockwork.
Harry was lying on the couch at Sarah and Mitch’s place face down trying to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking. No one said anything for several minutes. Sarah was working on cleaning the kitchen when Harry arrived, and Mitch suggested getting pizza. Harry wasn’t even hungry. Well, he was, but he wanted brussels sprouts.
“I might be jealous,” he admitted.
“Hallelujah,” Sarah sighed. “Talk to her.”
“Don’t y’think she’ll be grossed out that ‘ve basically been...stalking her because I like her?”
“Hello!” Sarah nearly shouted. “She likes you too!”
Harry was flooded with warmth at the idea. “She’s never said anything,” he mumbled.
“You’re her customer,” Mitch rolled his eyes. “As worried you’ve been about flirting with her while she’s working. She’s probably just as worried.”
It couldn’t have been that easy or simple.
Could it?
*
Harry was reading his schedule for the day on his computer. They were regular appointments with clients that he had in on a regular basis. He had just returned from the breakroom after an hour-long meeting and was seeing what was next or if he would have some downtime for paperwork in before his next client. The schedule looked normal. Except for the one meeting blocked off for ten-thirty. “Hey, Kate,” he called to his secretary outside his office. “Do y’know who scheduled—”
But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, and it was already ten-twenty-five and she walked into his office.
He dropped the pen he was holding above the calendar. His lips parted as she entered.
“Your ten-thirty is here!” Kate called.
Harry was going to fire her.
It had been two weeks since he had seen her. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked more beautiful. Or maybe it was because his office was light, mostly the sun coming through the windows and made her practically glow. Like she really was a sunflower. “Hi,” he murmured.
She wasn’t in her typical waitressing uniform. Her hair wasn’t pulled back. Harry didn’t know she could be more beautiful than when she was waitressing, but she was wearing regular clothes, a blue dress that fell to her knees and she seriously took on the beauty of a sunflower, it was astounding. “Hi,” she said.
“Y’can close the door,” he offered. “D’you want something t’drink?” He turned away from her and heard the door click shut. He went to the mini fridge on the back windowsill in the corner of his office holding a few small bottles of water. “Y’can sit,” he gestured to the chair. She did. He placed the bottle in front of her and sat across from her behind his desk. They were both silent for a moment. Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Harry, I have this absurd love for numbers. People have looked at me funny since I was young. It’s like this really complicated puzzle in my head and I just want to solve it. None of the little parts make sense together until they do. The answer is so beautiful when all those pieces click, and the flow of your logic comes down to this one singular answer and it’s just perfect.”
Harry wondered if there had ever been a poem written about numbers. Or if what she said was the very first one. Harry was pretty passionate about his work, and he was glad he made pretty good money. But he didn’t think he could ever chat about numbers the way she did.
“I feel that way when I’m around you. That all this logic just beautifully clicks into place. You make me feel normal for liking numbers. You’re extremely kind and you don’t...” she bit the inside of her lip and looked at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know why I feel this way but you...you stopped coming to eat, I don’t know why, and I don’t know what I did. I want to fix it because I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and I thought we were friends. Then we weren’t. I liked picking out which special of the week you would enjoy. Maybe I’m too young or something to be friends? I can’t help that. Maybe it was because Jake called me child—”
“Don’t,” he shook his head unable to hear the name.
“So it is about him,” she frowned. “I don’t...Harry, it’s not fair to keep me out of the loop about what you’re feeling! I can’t fix whatever I did—”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why did you stop coming to eat?” her voice cracked.
Harry wanted to jump out a window for making her feel insecure and nervous. If she cried he was done for. He sighed exasperated with his own miscommunication. His cheeks felt warm as they always did when he embarrassed himself around her. “Y’not too young,” he looked at her, but it felt like he was looking right through her. Like he could see right into her brain and read every word that was waiting to exit her mouth. “You’re not childish,” he affirmed. “You are...” He shook his head. “You are perfect,” he assured her. “I didn’t want t’ask y’out while y’were working. S’kinda rude. Then Jake called you his wife—”
“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispered.
Harry ignored her comment (even though it made his heart feel the slightest bit better). “—I really like you. I think you’re way too smart for me. Way too kind. And y’work in a place surrounded with beautiful sunflowers and I can’t stop looking at you,” his heart felt heavy, the butterflies in his stomach were trying to escape. He used every ounce of his effort to read her unreadable expression as he watched her process everything he said.
“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered.
He snorted. Of all the things she could focus on at a moment like that. “Love, y’have t’know you are.”
She shook her head. “I’m always sweaty and working when you see me.”
“Well seems y’had some proper prep time today,” he looked at her with a soft gaze that he hoped didn’t seem too excessive. “Y’look more beautiful.”
Her eyes seemed to melt with relief. “You were jealous?” She asked.
“Course I was,” he nodded easily. Like it made the most sense in the world.
“But... you never said anything.”
“I didn’t want t’make you uncomfortable,” he repeated. “I can’t imagine how many people hit on you while you’re working.”
She frowned. “Naturally not the person I want,” she grumbled cutely. Harry felt lighter. He smiled.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
She shifted awkwardly in her seat but smiled. “I uh...I came here to tell you off.”
He chuckled. “I would deserve that,” he agreed. “I... I have something for you,” he opened the top right drawer to his desk. “Saw it, and...it's not much, but it reminded me of you," his eyes were so gentle it made her heart skip a beat. He held out the little cardboard rectangle. It might not have "been much" but it was everything. A thin gold chain, a sunflower crystal pendant the lightest shade of yellow. "Love?" he asked quietly after a moment of her staring at the most thoughtful gift she had ever received. For another moment they just gazed at one another. Unmoving. Harry was wearing a button down, rolled up to his elbows. He looked at ease, finally. His cheeks flushed. His eyes so green and beautiful. She could barely breathe.
Then finally, Harry spoke again.
"Would you like t'go out with me?"
--
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goldsbitch · 7 months ago
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Hello hello! I am still absolutely obsessed with the "Fire" fic you wrote. You are such a talented writer omg, the storytelling, the humour, everything!
So I thought, I have an idea for a funny fic and I'm just gonna send it in LOL I remember Lando saying in an interview that he's really scared when he's the passenger. So what if his GF is speeding all the time and Lando is just internally freaking out and sweating while trying to keep his cool next to her?
Just an idea, if you don't wanna write it that's fine too (:
omg omg omg thank you so much! i'm blushing and i'm scared - hopefully you'll like this one! i added a detail that might be little over the top - but who knows? not me anymore.
I'll drive
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"You have a car?!" Lando uttered, forgetting any table manners, the food he had been chewing nearly falling out of his mouth.
Y/N was dead silent, the look on her face strongly resembling a child who lied about cleaning their room and just blushed every toy under their bed.
Her boyfriend gave her a cheeky questioning look, and when it finally set in - the fact she had been hiding the existence of her car from him - he was truly stunned and somewhat amused.
"So, wait. You know how to drive?! Why am I always taking you places?" he asked rhetorically, never actually being bothered by that, but still.
"I don't know how to drive-" she tried before getting interrupted by her father.
"Of course she does, I taught her myself," the jolly man said and patted her on her back with a proud smile. Y/N's face got washed with crocked smile, as if she swallowed something truly detestable.
"No, I do not know how to drive-"
"Nonsense, she's alway been so hard on herself," he father continued. Y/N just sighed.
The young couple came to visit her hometown for the first time. It was lot of reminescing of old times and her school days - a context that Lando very much appreaciated. He had met her as a grown up woman, but that weekend, he witnessed many amusing moments and heard lots of stories that only childhood small towns hold. What did he love the most about this experience? The fact there was nothing for her to do to stop it, no matter how much she frowned. Influx of surprising moments, but this discovery topping all of them.
She saw Lando's perplexed face and tried to save the situation. "I never lied to you, technically you never asked...I just figured you like driving so much, why bother, especially if I am so bad at it..."
Lando was not having it. "Oh, you're not getting easily out of this one," he replied, biting his lower lip, actively having to remind himself of the fact her family was right there. There was something innately attractive about her being so raw and pushed into a corner. Just pure cuteness. "I'm sure you're not half as bad as majority of the people out there," he said, new plans forming in his head. "I think you and I should take her for a spin," he said, referring to the car, and hid his smile behind a glass. Her eyes were piercing his with an energy so intense, it was electrifying.
"No, Lando, I am not driving while you're in the same car," she stated firmly, not breaking the eye contact.
"Come one, sweetheart, it'll be fun," he said, honey dripping out of his mouth.
"It will be anything but that," she said, but Lando ignored that, turning into her father for more information.
"So what kind of a car it?"
The rest of the conversation continued in description of a car Y/N herself could only describe as red, her father telling a story about how he got it for his daughter and how she actually barely ever drove it, which apparently broke his heart.
//
Let's not forget, this was Lando - of course he had ulterior motives. While it was great, spending few wholesome days in the company of his girlfriends family, his frustration grew, because for some reason, she refused to have any intimate activities in her family's house. Why, he had no idea. But of course, he respected that.
She never mentioned anything about not having some nice outdoor sex in a car. He wanted to see her drive and also ride. His perfect afternoon.
Lando is not the best of passengers, often uneasy about the common mistakes casual drivers made. Taking over the wheel is a natural thing for him to do. But, this was an exception he was excited to make - how bad could it be, right? He learned the hard way not to ask that question again.
//
"You sure you don't want to switch places?" she asked, once again, doing everything she could to get out of this.
"Nope babe, passenger seat is the vibe for me today," he smirked, making himself overly comfortable sitting next to her.
She raised her eyebrows. "Here goes nothing, I guess," she murmured and put the keys into ignition.
Lando found it amusing, seeing her so hyper-focused, as if she was launching a rocket ship. To be fair, it was a manual car - so it was close.
Three deep breaths - I fucking hate this, she thought, turned the key and released the clutch. When the car immediately jumped, Lando regretted sitting in his usual obscure way, his head hitting the door with quite a loud bump.
"Told ya," she said and started the car again. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't possibly sell her mistake as an intention.
"You released the clutch too soon," he said while assessing the bump forming on his head.
"Do not give me advice when I drive, makes me angry," she announced and this time actually managed to start the car in a semi-ok way.
Lando watched his bubbly, happy-go-lucky, girlfriend turn into a monster and there was nothing for him to do to stop it.
Everything was somewhat fine when they were still on the quiet roads surrounding her neighborhood. She stopped on the way to the main road, watching two cars that were comically far away and letting them pass. They didn't have to say anything, both knew what the other one was thinking. Y/N knew there was plenty of time for her to join the road before those cars, but the lack of trust in her own abilities was making her wait stubbornly. Lando watched the scenery, amused and starting to understand that in this relationship, his place as the driver was more than secure. She didn't want to be in this position, in fact she was increasingly more mad, that Lando and her father teamed up on her. But since she was where fate got her, she was absolutely not accepting Lando smirking at her.
"I know what you think, we have plenty of time, so I will not be doing some stupid moves to get us both killed," she said and gripped the steering wheel even more.
To prove his point, Lando leaned over her and squirted his eyes and watched the slowly approaching cars. He gave her a sarcastic nod. She rolled her eyes.
"I'm joking, I'm joking," he said, putting his hands in defense.
"You better be, otherwise I'll just yeet us into the ditch."
"Feisty..."
And that was when the line got crossed.
"Fine!" she said, having no control over her emotions, and pressed the gas with new found energy. She turned, almost into a drift, and joined the main road, nearly having the two cars crash into her.
Lando gripped the handle, not expecting her to speed so much. His eyes went wide with realizations - she was the kind of driver operating on emotions. Had this been a racing track and an F1 car, he'd be having more fun, knowing the cars were epitome of safety. He was not so sure about this vehicle.
She had the "Tsunoda" energy and absolute lack of skill to go about it. Weaving, wrong gear almost constantly and not bothered by the sound her car was making.
"You're driving quite close to the lane, baby," he commented, getting more and more worried about their safety.
"Shut up, don't be all smart about it," she said, lips locked in a line. She was focused - not that it helped.
Another hard turn where she missed the right moment to go into it. Lando took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, trying to stay calm.
After few hundred metres, he couldn't take it again.
"I think you're way over the speeding limit," he mentioned.
"That's not what this says," he nodded to her speedometer. Lando leaned over and had to laugh.
"Yeah, that's definitely not correct. Honey, I'm sorry, but the lane - you are too close to it," he said in the calmest tone he could gather.
"My brain does not work like that, I see it more in an abstract way..."
His eyes nearly popped out. "You see the road in an abstract way? Oh dear god."
She sighed, not understanding what was the big deal was. "No like, it's a concept. It's not real, if there is nobody on the road, you can be anywhere."
"I'm pretty sure that's not the case, sweetheart," he said and thought for himself that it could be the case if she knew how to drive, but not like that. "Change the gear, you're burning your clutch."
She slapped the steering wheel. "I. Do not. Accept. Advice. At the moment. Thank you!" she said slowly before going on a rampage. "We both know you're exceptionally good at this, it was your idea, I tried to stop you, so now face the situation and do not tell me what to do because I might panic even more!"
"Ok, ok, calm down," he said, putting his hands up in defense and turning his head away to avoid watching her inventing a new way how to turn the steering wheel.
This sent her over the edge, truly giving up on any rules. She was mad, scared, uncomfortable and kind of hungry to be honest.
Lando stayed silent, worried for his life, regretting his decision and making a mental note to listen to her if she says she can't do something - if they survive this.
A huge bump and a loud noise. She barely managed to keep the car on the road.
"What is that?" she screamed, not knowing what to do.
"Front left tire puncture, retire the car! I mean, shit, stop, over there," he gestured, to the sideline of the road.
//
"Ok, so what now?" she said once it seemed like a decent amount of time for him to stop observing the wheel.
"It's just the tire, I'm sure you've got a spare at the back, right?" he asked and like the gentleman he was, got up and looked in the back for a replacement. When he got it out, he proudly put it in front of her, considering his part of the job done. She stared at him, not moving. "There you go," he said, encouraging her. "They taught you how to do this at driving school."
"Um, yeah. I missed that lesson. Can you do it?"
"How could you miss that lesson?" he asked in desperation. Both of them stood there, waiting for the other to take the lead. It was very unusual for Y/N to see him this passive around a car. "Come on, you must have had a question about this on your test," he pleaded.
And then it clicked. "Lando?" she asked, having a very strange feeling about his behavior. "Do you know how to change a tire?"
He stayed silent, pretending to ignore her question. Y/N's eyes went wide. "Oh my god, you don't know how to change a tire?!" she asked once again, unable to believe that could even be the case. "Isn't that like half of your job?"
"Well no, actually, my job is to drive. There is a whole team dedicated for changing my tires," he said matter-o-factly.
"You're a racing driver. Spend more time in a car than in a bed. And you don't know how to change a tire," she stated and started to laugh. "That's so rich."
He let out a heavy sigh. "I've never actually done it myself. Plus these are normal tires, different system."
"Oh my god," she said, unable to process.
The way how much this whole thing has backfired had Lando stuck. He was suppose to be engaging in inappropriate activities with his girlfriend at this moment. In his understanding of that, it did not include getting his phone out and searching for an online tutorial for bloody tire change. But, there he was. Y/N was suddenly having so much fun, coming off a high that was the adrenaline her body produced during driving. She was free and driving was impossible now. Bliss. In her opinion, this was all Lando's fault - she told him she couldn't drive. Payback time - hopefully Oscar would pick up.
She was dialing her phone, while he was trying to understand how to go about this.
Yes, he picked up! "Hi, this is Y/N," she said in a very serious tone. "Who are you calling?" Lando mouthed, his biggest worry that she dialed up her father and he is now going to have a reputation until the end of time. "Help," she mouthed back silently.
"Hi Y/N," was Oscar's response, the driver being somewhat confused as to why she was calling him. "What's up?"
"Glad you ask. Me and my boyfriend got into a serious situation."
"You and Lando?"
Lando frowned. "Are you calling assistance? We don't need them..."
She ignored him."Yes, I was forced to drive-"
"He let you drive?"
"Forced-"
"What kind of assistance is it?" Lando asked, doubting the whole phone call.
Y/N continued without pausing. "And we managed to get a flat tire, which I don't know how to fix and to surprise of the whole universe, he can't fix as well."
There was only laughter on the other end of the call.
"Y/N, who are you calling?"
Y/N pretended not the hear Lando. "Do you know how to change a tire?"
Oscar was more than amused, knowing he just gained a wild card to use on Lando anytime he would want. "Yes, of course I do. Put me on Facetime with him."
Y/N smirked at her boyfriend, who was still confused and with sparkles in her eyes handed him her phone.
"Oscar says hi!"
Lando blinked, several times. "What? No!...Shit. Hey Oscar," he waved at his teammate awkwardly.
"I have been summoned," Oscar announced, finding this all very amusing.
"Yes," Lando replied, defeated.
Oscar did not wait and took the situation in charge. "First step to do is make yourself seen, guys. You got a triangle?"
"Where's the bloody bucket hat when you need it the most..." Y/N mumbled, having Lando roll his eyes in reaction.
"I'll go and find it and you guys figure this out, ok?" she said handing over the phone to Lando and giving him a little peck on the cheek.
"I hate you," he said with a smile.
"I hate you more," she replied and skipped over to the trunk.
//
After series of creative curse words, one pair of ruined jeans and a celebratory high five, the pair stood once again in front of her car, staring at each other.
"I guess I'll drive us back," Lando decided loudly and waited for her approval.
"Agree. Let's not disturb the gods anymore. You're such a bad passenger princess anyway."
The past hour was filled with lot of conflicting emotions, but the only one that stayed was the love the two shared just by looking at each other.
"I'm sorry I forced you into this," Lando apologized softly. "It was not fair. I see that now."
Her lips turned into a weak smile. "Thank you. And sorry for calling Oscar. I'm sure he won't let you forget this."
He saw right through her. "No, you're not sorry about that - I can see the devil in your eyes."
She bit her tongue. "Yup."
It was hard for Lando not to kiss her in that moment. It was impossible for her to resist.
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misspygmypie · 5 months ago
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Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 4
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2179 Click here for Part 3
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
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Lando stood in the paddock tapping his foot impatiently as he checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. Today was race day and while the adrenaline from the race was always thrilling it was the thought of seeing Y/N and her son that made him particularly excited this morning.
Oscar walked in and his eyes widened as he saw Lando practically bouncing on his toes. “You’re really pumped today. I take it you had a good evening with them?”
“Last night was amazing. We had dinner together and Noah fell asleep on my lap. Y/N and I had a fantastic conversation too! I’ve been thinking about them a lot. I just can’t wait to see them today.”
“It’s great to see you so happy about it.”
Before Lando could respond Y/N and Noah entered the hospitality area. Noah’s eyes were wide with wonder, soaking in the sights and sounds of race day. Y/N looked relaxed and happy, her smile warm as she scanned the room.
“Good morning, champ” Lando called out with a grin, waving enthusiastically. Noah’s face broke into a grin as he spotted him, he wiggled himself out of his mom’s hold and moments later got scooped up by the young driver. 
“Are you gonna win today?” he asked with earnest curiosity.
Lando’s eyes twinkled as he held Noah close. “I’m going to do my best. It’s wonderful to have you here cheering me on!”
Noah nodded solemnly, his tiny face serious. “I’m sure you’ll win. You’re the best!”
“He’s been saying that all morning,” Y/N joined in, “I think he’s your biggest supporter.”
“There’s just one little thing missing,” Lando replied before putting the boy down and darting off towards a table in the back. He returned a few moments later, carrying two neatly folded shirts. One was a child-sized shirt and the other was slightly larger but still snug. Both shirts had the name Norris and the number 4 printed on the back. Lando handed Noah his shirt first. “I thought you might like to wear this today.”
Noah’s eyes grew wide in awe as he took the shirt. “I always wanted one of those because it’s got your name on it!”
“That’s right,” Lando said, crouching down to help Noah put on the fabric over his head and helping him getting his arms through the small holes. “Now you have one and you’ll be my lucky charm.”
Once Noah was all set Lando turned to Y/N holding out the larger shirt. “And this one’s for you. Just in case you want to show a bit of support too.”
Y/N accepted the shirt with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Lando. This is really sweet of you.”
As she slipped it on the Brit felt his heart beat faster. Seeing Y/N in his shirt, the fabric hugging her figure perfectly, made his pulse quicken. The way she looked in it was effortlessly stunning and the sight of her wearing something so personal to him sent a rush of warmth through him. 
Noah beamed, his shirt fitting perfectly and he looked up at Lando with stars in his eyes. “I’m going to cheer so loud for you!”
Lando chuckled, then led them into the garage, where the atmosphere was already buzzing with activity but far more controlled than in the paddock. 
He led them to a quieter corner where he had set up a special area for them. “I thought Noah might like to be even more involved,” Lando said with a grin. He handed the boy a pair of large, padded headphones. “These are for you, they’ll let you listen to everything that’s going on in my car. How cool is that?”
“Wow, really? This is so awesome!”
“Enjoy the race, buddy, I’m going to get suited up now,” he directed at the boy and took a step toward Y/N. “Before I go, I just want to say thank you for coming and supporting me.”
He opened his arms and, without waiting for a response, pulled Y/N into a gentle hug. As he held her close he softly placed a light kiss on the top of her head. “It means a lot to me that you’re here.”
Y/N, surprised but touched, hugged him back and smiled. With that Lando headed towards his car, leaving Y/N and Noah in their special viewing area. 
Will, Lando’s engineer, had been observing the interaction and an idea popped into his head. “Hi, Noah! I hear you’re going to be our special guest today. Do you want to help me with something very important?”
Noah smiled at the man and listened to what he had to do.
_____
Once Lando was in his car and settled for the race he heard a crackling over the radio. “Hello, Lando! Can you hear me?”
The driver’s eyes widened in surprise and a chuckle escaped him as he realized who it was. The sound of the young, enthusiastic voice was both adorable and unexpected. “Wow, Noah, is that you?” he said, his voice warm and amused.
Noah’s voice crackled through the radio with an endearing, high-pitched cheerfulness that immediately brightened the garage. “Yes, it’s me! I’m doing the radio check. How do you hear me?”
The crew, used to the serious tone of race day communications, paused and exchanged amused glances. The atmosphere in the garage was noticeably lighter as Lando laughed quietly. “Loud and clear, Noah. You’re coming through perfectly. How’s everything on your end?”
The 4-year-old, clearly delighted that the radio check was such a big success, did a little happy wiggle in his seat. “Everything’s good and everyone’s working really hard. Good luck, I’m cheering for you!”
“That’s great to hear and thanks buddy, I’ll do my best out there.”
“Great job, Noah,” Will’s voice came through next. “You’re all set. Lando, we’re ready to go when you are.”
After spending the first half of the race in the garage Y/N and Noah decided they wanted to see more of the cars and found their seats in the spectator area. They watched as the cars whizzed by, the sound of engines loud and Lando’s car flying past them near the front of the pack. Y/N felt her heart race with every lap, her gaze flicking between the track and her son’s excited face.
“Look, Noah! Lando’s in the top three” Y/N pointed out as they approached the final laps.
Noah’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Go, Lando! You can do it!”
As the final lap of the race drew to a close they were on the edge of their seats, eyes glued to the track. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Lando crossed the finish line in second place, securing a spot on the podium. Y/N’s heart swelled with pride and she glanced down at Noah, who was practically vibrating with excitement.
“I knew he could do it, mommy!”
During the podium ceremony Lando stood proudly on the second-place step, a beaming smile on his face. His eyes scanned the crowd and after searching for a little while he locked eyes with Y/N, raising his hand in a friendly wave, his grin widening.
When the ceremony ended, Y/N and Noah made their way back to the paddock, eager to see Lando once more. They finally spotted him chatting with his team but his attention was immediately on the boy he saw running towards him, his small arms outstretched.
Lando’s eyes lit up and he quickly scooped Noah up, lifting him into a warm, enthusiastic hug. 
“Hey there, champ” Lando said, his voice filled with affection. “You did an amazing job earlier and I’m so glad you’re here.”
Still holding Noah, Lando turned towards Y/N with a smile that spoke volumes, embracing her tightly. The hug was unexpected but warm and genuine and it made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.
Lando’s team, who had been observing the interaction, exchanged knowing looks. They noticed the connection between Lando and Y/N, something that went beyond the typical fan-driver relationship. 
After a few more minutes of conversation Lando took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he looked at Y/N while Noah was being entertained by one of his team members. “I was wondering… would you be interested in having dinner with me? I’ve arranged for a babysitter at the hotel, so Noah will be in good hands.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, the invitation somewhat surprising her. “I’d love to,” she replied smiling, her heart fluttering in her chest, “but is it really okay with the babysitter?”
“Absolutely,” Lando nodded with a reassuring smile. “I want you to enjoy the evening without any worries. What do you say?”
Y/N glanced at Noah for a second and then brought her attention back to the young man in front of her. “I’d be happy to join you.”
“Perfect,” Lando said, his smile broadening. “I was hoping you would agree.”
_____
An hour and a half later Lando paced restlessly in his hotel room, his mind swirling with nerves. The dinner with Y/N was rapidly approaching and despite the excitement he found himself overwhelmed.
His phone buzzed and for a second he feared it was Y/N telling him she couldn’t make it and was relieved when he saw it was a text from his team mate.
Oscar: Hey, mate! Heard you’ve got a big night ahead. Need some company or advice?
Lando let out a deep breath and quickly responded. 
Lando: Yes, please. I’m losing my mind right now.
A few minutes later there was a knock on Lando’s door. He opened it to find Oscar standing there with a reassuring smile. “Thought I’d drop by and help you out. How’s it going?”
Lando stepped aside to let him in, still fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. “I’m a mess. I’ve never been this nervous before a date. What if I mess up?”
Oscar took a seat on the edge of the bed and glanced at Lando’s outfit, a smart but casual ensemble consisting of black pants and a simple white dress shirt. “You look great. Seriously. What’s got you so worked up?”
Lando rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes flicking to the mirror trying to smooth out some crinkles in his shirt. “It’s just, what if Y/N doesn’t feel the same way? I mean, I haven’t known her and Noah for very long. What if I’m reading it all wrong?”
Oscar leaned back, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “From what I’ve seen she seemed genuinely interested in you. And Noah adores you, kids usually have a good sense of these things.”
“I hope you’re right,” Lando nodded slowly but still looked unsure. “It’s just… I can see a future with them. Even though it’s been such a short time, something about them feels right. I mean, Y/N is so incredibly beautiful, inside and out. And Noah, he’s just the cutest kid ever. I can’t stop thinking about how perfect they are.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you really are smitten, huh?” He asked amused,” who would have thought that Lando Norris, the ladies’ man, would be here thinking about settling down?”
Lando blushed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect it either. But it just feels different this time. I’ve never felt this way so quickly about someone. I mean, Y/N is just… she’s so kind and genuine. The way she smiles and the way she talks, it’s like she lights up the room. And Noah, he’s just this perfect little kid. I’ve barely known them, but it feels like there’s something really special here.”
Oscar chuckled, clearly enjoying Lando’s heartfelt monologue but wanting to reassure his friend. “If you’re feeling this way, I’d say it’s a good sign.”
“Yeah, but what if I’m getting ahead of myself? What if I’m imagining something that’s not really there?”
“Look, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith. It’s clear you’ve made a great impression on both of them. Just be yourself tonight, trust me, that’s all you need to do.”
Lando took a deep breath, trying to absorb Oscar’s words. “Thanks, Oscar. I guess I’m just overthinking things.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Oscar said with a grin. “Now, let’s make sure you look sharp. You’re already halfway there.”
With Oscar’s help, Lando made final adjustments to his outfit and took a few moments to steady himself. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and a hint of confidence began to return.
“Alright,” Lando said, looking at himself in the mirror with a determined nod. “I think I’m ready.”
Oscar walked up to his friend, giving him an encouraging nod and brotherly pat on the back. “Good luck, mate. Go and have a great time. I’ll be here waiting to hear all about it.”
Lando smiled, feeling a renewed sense of calm. “Thanks, Oscar. I appreciate it.”
_________
Click here for Part 5!
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