#the one who keeps asking about my family only to “you talk too much about your family”

[parfaitblogs]

i have more than enough ❀ s. reid x reader

in which the holiday season is achingly difficult to get through, when you are spencer reid, who believes he is no longer allowed to enjoy them. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. post prison!reid. word count: 2k a/n: and for my final act? the parfaitblogs special (post prison reid fic to a searows song). merry christmas from australia because it IS the 25th here!!! this is the end of my christmas advent calendar!! i had soo much fun writing these stories thank you to all that requested ♡

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

He does not deserve a Christmas. 

Perhaps that is the only thing that runs through Spencer Reid's mind the second the Halloween decor filtered out of the stores, reindeer mugs entered them; while candy canes and Santa hats adorned every little item, and Christmas trees lit up every corner of every mall.

No matter what state he traveled to, he couldn't escape the festivities of the holiday season. He's pretty sure he's the only person who wants to. 

You waited for him. He feels immensely guilty for just how much waiting you've had to do all year. Waiting for him to go to trial, waiting for him to get out of prison, waiting for him to let you in again. 

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

You're waiting again. A Christmas tree that blandly sits empty and undecorated in the corner of your shared apartment; a Christmas roast you aren't sure if you'll even cook takes up too much space in your fridge; gingerbread cookies you promised your friends weeks ago remaining unbaked. 

He knew you were upset about it. His Christmas loving girlfriend forced to mute the celebrations of her favourite holiday because he couldn't find it in him to be excited about it. 

He didn't know how to fix it, really. 

You had tried everything to get him back into the Christmas spirit he's had for the past three years you've spent together. Baking with him, picking out the very Christmas tree that leaves the room smelling like a pine forest together, Christmas shopping for the presents he had no will to buy for his family and friends. 

Nothing had worked. 

"Spence?"

Sitting awkwardly at his — now — very minimally decorated desk, his head lifts from the papers in front of him, eyebrows frowning towards each other as his eyes land on you.

"Hi," he murmurs, putting the pen in his hand down in an effort to give you his full attention. He was getting better at that, these days. 

"I finished dinner," you tell him, fingers fidgeting with one another; a recent habit he had noticed you'd developed in the months between his arrest and release. "If you want to come eat."

He doesn't, but then again, he never does. And despite how awful he feels, he feels even more so for what he's putting you through, and the guilt that chews away at him is enough to will him to do small things — like eating — for you. 

"Yeah," he breathes out, and stands up from the desk, following you silently over to the meal sitting at the edge of the kitchen bench you had cooked for the two of you.

Silence overwhelmed you two as you ate, as it usually does. Sitting curled up beside one another on the couch, sharing a blanket and yet still feeling so distant from each other regardless. 

"Did you call your mom?" you ask him, and his fork pauses in the plate. 

Right. It's Christmas. The time for calling family members and sharing love for them during this supposed to be joyous time. 

"Not yet," he shakes his head. "I'll... get to it. Before Christmas is over."

"You have a week," you remind him, though it isn't to be passive aggressive at all. You genuinely wonder if he's forgotten the date of Christmas that has quickly crept up on you both.

"I know."

You stare silently at the coffee table after a short nod to his words, and you wrack your brain for things to say, just to keep him talking.

"Can I give you your gift before Christmas day?" 

He lifts his head, and you feel his eyes transfix on you.

"If you want."

You want him to want it too, but you aren't sure if that's a reasonable wish anymore. 

"I do," you nod, and quickly finish up your food, before you stand, and leave the room altogether. 

He places his plate next to yours on the coffee table — he'd remember to get to cleaning those later — just as you return, a square shaped brown paper gift in your hands, a purple ribbon tied in a bow around it. 

"You got me a square?" he asks you, and your heart warms at the teasing tone in his voice. He's trying. 

"Open it," you press, instinctively shaking his shoulder with both hands pressed up against it. 

"Okay, okay."

He's meticulous in pulling the plain wrapping paper off, and you almost want to open the gift for him. 

"Did you make this?" he asks you as he carefully pulls the square apart in front of your eyes, though he does already know the answer before you have a chance to start nodding your head. 

A Victorian Puzzle Purse situates delicately in his hands. Hands that pull it apart ever so slowly, taking note of every little drawn and painted detail on the paper, opening it up to a letter that he spent two minutes reading through — confirming that he was not only reading it once through. 

"Do you like it?" you ask him, almost hesitantly. 

"Victorian Puzzle Purse's were how lovers would communicate for Valentine's day," he says, instead of answering your question directly, as he neatly folds it back up into the intricate origami square it was originally when he pulled it out. "Sorry," he quickly adds, his eyes landing back on you. "That wasn't an answer. I do. I like it a lot."

"I know it isn't much, but I don't want to overwhelm you with gifts this Christmas. I'm honestly not even expecting anything big. We can just order food in and watch movies or something this year, if you'd prefer. You just have to promise me you'll at least let me put mistletoe up outside our bedroom, because it's kind of become tradition and... sorry."

He's staring at you, half dumbfounded, half in awe, as you realise you were rambling instead of sitting in the moment of him enjoying something seasonal, but you can't even find it within yourself to be frustrated at it. For he is letting a small smile grace his lips, and you're leaning forwards with a smile of your own, and for a second or more, he is not the shattered prison man, and you are not his distanced girlfriend. 

"You can put mistletoe outside our bedroom," he says, and you're breaking into an even wider grin.

"Really?"

"It's tradition."

You light up enough for there to be no need for a decorated Christmas tree in your apartment anymore, and you're threading your fingers through his hand to drag him up off the couch. 

Your gift to him remains on the coffee table as you lead him over to your bedroom door, prompting him to stay still, as you disappear to find the piece of familiar fake greenery. 

"Mistletoe!" you present it to him, and he takes it from you habitually, using the pin you also hand him and pinning it above your heads on the doorframe.

"I think we need to buy a new one," he says, hands dropping back by his side. His eyes are trained on you, but your own head is still tilted back, inspecting the faux plant. 

"I think we need to buy a real one," you answer conclusively, finally dropping your gaze to him. 

"Next year," he confirms. "Tradition complete?"

You shake your head. "The tradition ends with a kiss."

Hesitation follows your words, and you instantly regret them. 

It wasn't that you didn't kiss, or weren't intimate in any way. It's simply that it was on occasion now, and almost always motivated by something more important than a silly mistletoe tradition.

"It's okay," you cover your unwelcome disappointment with a smile. 

He ignores your reassurance. "It does end in a kiss, you're right."

"But we don't have to," you mumble.

"Yes," his hands encase your waist to do nothing more than to pull you closer to him. "We do."

"Not if you don't want to."

"Did I say that?"

You open your lips to respond, but the words die on your tongue. 

"What did I do to make you think I don't want to kiss you, angel?" he's frowning now, and you feel guilt settle in your chest. 

"Nothing, really. We just—um—don't kiss... as much. Anymore. Which is fine, by the way, and I can understand it. You're under no moral obligation to kiss me. Obviously."

His frown deepens. "I think we're experiencing a bout of miscommunication."

"What?"

"I thought you didn't want to kiss me," he explains, and suddenly, you're mirroring the confusion on his face. 

"Why would I not want to kiss you?" you ask him, incredulously. 

His shoulders slump at the question, and you force yourself not to fill the silence that follows.

"Prison," he replies, quietly. "I didn't think you'd really even want me once I got out of prison. You don't initiate anything anymore, either. I just assumed."

"I didn't initiate anything because I was waiting for you to initiate stuff."

"I can see that now."

"I didn't want to rush you," you tell him, as earnestly as possible. "I know prison was a lot, and you still haven't told me everything that happened, but I wanted you to not rush yourself. Or... us, I guess."

He swallows the lump of emotion that lodges in his throat. "I thought you were disappointed in me. Or—well, scared of me."

"No," your heart shatters, and you're sure he can hear it in your voice as your hands instantly cup his cheeks, fingers brushing over his cheekbones. "No, oh my God, Spencer."

"You shouldn't use the lord's name in vain. It's Christmas," he jokes, weakly. The smile you give him is weak, too.

"I was terrified for you. I was so worried about you in prison, and—and what they were doing to you in there. But never of you. Not a single part of me will ever be scared of you, sweet boy."

"I'm scared of me," he whispers, and his voice cracks in a way that has tears welling in your eyes. "I think differently, you know."

"And that automatically means I should be scared of you? Or makes you any less deserving of love?"

His silence is enough of a response. 

"I love you," you settle on telling him. "No matter what baggage you came back to me with. You deserve so much love, and I hate that you have been through so much. So much so that you believe yourself undeserving. You are not. You never will be. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if I must. Or as long as you will let me."

"Forever," he replies, and you feel his hands close over your own on his face. "I will let you forever."

"Thank God. It'd be kind of embarrassing if I say all this and then you were to break up with me tomorrow," you say, and his cheeks stretch beneath your hands as he huffs a laugh.

"I won't break up with you."

"I wouldn't let you, anyways."

"Oh really?" his hands slide down to your waist once more. 

"Yeah," you confirm with a small nod, your own hands dropping to his neck, interlacing behind it, as you draw his head closer to yours. "You're stuck with me."

"I have not a word of complaint," he replies, and he's close enough that you feel the words tattoo your lips. "I love you."

And then he's kissing you, and there is an overwhelming amount of neglected feelings you had been missing poured into you, from his soul to yours. 

It was a kiss so unlike what you had grown used to in recent months. Fingers dug into your waist as a violent reminder of what you mean to him, and for the first time since May, you believed it. 

When he goes to pull away, you barely give him time to get air before you're chasing his lips again, and he tugs you impossibly closer with a laugh that vibrates against your face. 

You kiss him until your hands go numb behind his neck, and your legs begin to ache, and your waist is sure to have bruised in the shapes of his fingertips. Chest heaving and eyes full of more adoration than you think one human can have for another, you meet his gaze once more.

"Tradition complete."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[lqveharrington]

Hi, congrats on 2k! I was wondering if you could write Spencer Reid with Clean? Maybe something like Spencer got done with a bad case and is thinking about using but then reader helps him. Thanks!

Clean | S.R.

summary: When Spencer comes back from a bad case, you help him as best as you can; especially when his thoughts wander back to an unpleasant time in his life.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: angst, fluff, addiction, drugging, talks about death, crying,

a/n: i love me some spencer reid 💛 (rules for celebration here!)

As a behavior analyst for the BAU in Quantico, it was your sole purpose to evaluate and look into potential criminals' mindsets. At first, you were hesitant to take the job they offered to you – not wanting to deal with so much pain in life. To your luck, they countered with an office job to manage the data collected by the agents who flew out to deal with the cases face to face instead. You were surprised to hear that they really wanted you on their team. Maybe it was because you took all the psychology classes in high school, or perhaps it was all TV shows you watched just to figure out how they ended in the first episode, but after much convincing by your family, you took the job.

It took adjusting and many days of learning everyone’s name before you could get comfortable with the people you worked with. Especially the team that went out for the cases.

Gideon and Hotch — and eventually Rossi — always scared you just a bit, but you learned they cared for you like a daughter. Emily, Penelope, and JJ loved you more than their job. They always hung back with you whenever they had spare time. Derek did his best not to tease you with how young you started working with the BAU, but soon realized how similar you and Spencer were. Ultimately calling you pretty girl in comparison to Spencer's pretty boy.

When you first met Spencer, you swore you both awkwardly froze and avoided each other until JJ forced the both of you to get along. It wasn't like you disliked him — it was the opposite. You only began to get closer to Spencer when he would bring you hot chocolate every day because of the one time he bumped into you and spilled your drink all over the floor.

Eventually he did ask you out on a date and the rest became history.

You even helped him get clean when the incident happened years ago. That case made reality sink in quickly, especially when you got the emergency call from JJ in Atlanta, Georgia. That was the closest you had ever come to joining the traveling team.

Over the years, you made sure to keep Spencer in check. It scared you to even think about him going back to addiction. Yes, he handled tough cases, but he always knew you were there to help him. Until the most recent case. Where the most recent victim looked exactly like his daughter.

"Hey, when did you guys get back?" You raised your brows in surprise when you found Spencer spinning a pen in between his fingers at his desk. "I didn't get a text from you—?"

"My phone died." He muttered and looked up at you, eyes tired and overworked. Within seconds, you were pulled into his arms as his head found its way into your neck. "Missed you and Liv lots."

"We missed you too, Spence." You wrap your arms around him and rub his back. You let him settle into your arms before you separated and sat on his desk, confused at his sudden affection. "I haven't looked at this case yet. What happened?"

The storm outside thundered, causing him to jump and clasp your hand in his own. You frowned and squeezed his hand, head tilting to the side. Spencer was never this afraid of rain, especially when Olivia loved the rain and always asked the both of you to play in the rain whenever you were both home. So you did what you do best — analyze him based on his behavior.

"Uhm, the victim was kidnapped and drugged until she nearly passed away from how much was injected into her veins." He felt for your pulse and counted how many times you heartbeat passed in a minute. "We were cutting it close with time when she got to the hospital."

You watched the way he kept pushing his hair back and readjusting his glasses. He was constantly fidgeting, which made you frown. He fidgeted plenty, but this felt like it traced a little deeper than the surface showed.

Pursing your lips, you stared at his shaking hands and met his brown eyes. "Spence... There's something more to it, isn't there?"

He swallowed and nodded, voice coming out quieter than intended. His hold on your hand tightened as he spoke, eyes shutting like he was in pain. "She uh... She looked just like Olivia, just older."

Your heart broke when you heard his voice crack. He hadn't thought about his own addiction in a while, and seeing a girl who looked like his daughter having a similar experience had him spiraling. You saw the look in his eyes, how scared he was to ever think of losing you or losing Olivia in the process of going back to addiction. He seemed to overthink the entire situation. If that was his own daughter — who he prayed wouldn't ever be harmed in any of his cases — he probably would've quit on the spot.

"Listen to me, Spence." You start and took both hands in your own, smiling softly when you saw his wedding ring adorning his hand. It had been a couple of years since you married him, but every time you saw the matching rings, you were instantly transported back to the day.

You squeezed his hand and kissed the back of them three times, one thing you began doing since you started dating. "Olivia and I know you will do everything in your power to be there for us. We also know you would do everything not to go back to drugs, you know why?" When he stared at you with wet eyes, you continued, your own voice cracking. "Because you love us too much to ever risk yourself to a life of addiction. You have grown so much and we both know you would hate yourself forever if Liv saw you injecting Dilaudid into your own arm."

He stayed quiet and listened to your words intently. Even with his IQ of 187, he knew you were right. He had thought about going back, letting the drugs take him back to the dark place he said he never wanted to go back to. But as always, you pulled him out of the dangerous waves before the water could fill his lungs. You were one of the only people who could hear his cries without anything being said.

You brought a hand up and wiped a stray tear falling from his eye, like you could hear his unspoken thoughts. "I know you Spencer Walter Reid. I can read you like the back of my hand, and not because that's my job, but because you let me know you."

Like a surge of the perfect storm brewing outside, he cupped your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was filled with all his stored emotions from one singular case. You could feel the desperation, love, need. He sought out for you in his darkest times. You kept him clean all these years and he wasn't going to let that streak die because of a hard case.

You and Spencer both went to pick Olivia up from her ballet lessons, wanting to surprise her. And boy was she happy to see both her parents. When she heard the bell ring above the studio's front door, her head peek above the half wall and met her parents' eyes. She but all squealed in happiness and rushed over to Spencer first, jumping into his arms and grabbing his face in her small hands.

"Hi, daddy!" She giggled and squished his cheeks, her pink tutu splayed over him. "I missed you a lot! Like, more than the entire world a lot."

"I missed you too, Liv." He smiled and kissed her cheek, lowering his head to whisper into her ear. "Have you been good for mommy while I was away?"

She tilted her head and gave him a cheeky grin, reading him as well as you could. "I'm always good for mommy."

You raised your eyebrow at her and tickled her sides before kissing her cheek as well. She was the sun that shooed all the dark clouds from Spencer's mind. Of course, she would never know that. Not until she understood everything her father went through to be there for her.

"Go get your stuff so we can get home. I'm sure daddy is tired and wants to hear all your stories from school." You nod your head toward her pink backpack, the different keychains and trinkets Spencer bought her hanging from every zipper.

"Oh, daddy, I have so many stories to tell you! Like that one time—!"

"Get your stuff first, Liv." He let her down from his arms and chuckled when she ran toward the cubbies, stuffing all her belongings into her bag.

You perched your chin on his shoulder and looped your arm around his — the both of you watching your daughter with loving eyes. He understood what it meant to be BAU Special Agent, but he also understood what it meant to be a husband and father. He knew that the balance between work and home was difficult, but he would do anything to keep his family safe. Would he quit? No, you would never let him. But he would ensure that his thoughts would never wander back to such a dark place.

He would stay clean just for you and Olivia.

"I love you." He whispered to you and turned his head to meet your eyes, smile echoing your own. "Like more than the whole world."

You laugh softly and kiss his cheek, "I love you too, Spence. Don't ever forget it."

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[cherrycranes]

Gringo Boyfriend: Feliz Navidad (Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Fem!Reader Summary: You bring your american boyfriend Neil to your family home in Mexico to spend christmas (and keep it quiet when you wanna get freaky) Word count: 5,329 Contents: (Minors DNI). Reader is mexican and has a loving family. A LOT of mexican traditions and yapping. Oral sex (male receiving), orgasm denial. A pause between both sex scenes. P in v, protected sex, fingering, quiet sex. You do all of this in your parents' house btw. Author's notes: This fanfic is written in collaboration with my dear @honeydew-angel and is a part 2 of the Gringo boyfriend fic! Merry christmas babies!

The big light-up speaker one of your uncles had settled on a corner blasted songs from La Sonora Dinamita that barely covered the sounds of chatter and laughter. Introducing your gringo boyfriend to your family in Mexico was a success, despite the language barrier. 

Neil, "el gringo" or "el güero", as your relatives called him, was the novelty of the Christmas function this year. Everybody wanted to talk to him in varying degrees of English proficiency. Your cousins held perfectly fine convos with him, your older relatives tried their best. You could add "live translator" to your resume from that point forward.

He was real sweet, everybody charmed by both his attitude and, of course, his beautiful baby blue eyes. Your grandmother made him stop blinking for about a minute so she could admire the color up close and reminisce about a long dead relative of hers who also had blue eyes. Then Neil's eyeballs were immediately hit with the cool December night breeze again as your little cousins got curious about blue eyes too. He let them, picking the littlest one up so he could see them better.

For being such an angel, Neil got treated to delicious snacks. Chilli powder covered peanuts, bites of crunchy buñuelos and a small cup of creamy apple salad to not starve while awaiting for the main dinner. The prospect of having this every Christmas of his life from that point forward only reinforced Neil’s determination to wife you up one day. 

Once everyone had their time getting to know, admire, and tease your boyfriend, you pulled him away from your aunts and cousins to introduce him to the most important and special people in your life. You were nervous about how they would treat and like Neil. You knew your grandparents well; they were like second parents to you. This made you anxious about knowing their opinion of him.

You approached them in a little corner, somewhat isolated from all the noise and chatter. Neil quickly sensed that you were nervous, so he said he would go to the car to grab something. He had the excellent idea to bring little gifts for each of your relatives, one more significant than the other, since he didn’t know them very well yet but immediately knew what to give your grandparents—some DVDs of the most beloved and famous Pedro Infante movies, which your grandparents adore.

He returned with a small Christmas gift bag, and you assumed it had the classic 50s golden-era films. This seemed to calm you down since it was a perfect way for him to approach your grandparents. Holding Neil’s hand, you led him to sit next to them in that quiet corner. You let go of his hand to greet them with a kiss and a hug—how much you had missed them. Neil watched the heartwarming scene, feeling a bit awkward, unsure of what to do.

After asking them how they had been, you grabbed Neil’s hand and introduced him in Spanish. 

“Abuelitos, él es Neil, mi novio”. (‘Grandparents, this is Neil, my boyfriend.’) You said with a little embarrassment in your tone. Bringing Neil close, he tried to introduce himself in spanish. 

“Hola, m-mucho gusto, soy Neil”. (‘Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Neil.’) Your grandparents laughed a little seeing how nervous Neil was. 

They introduced themselves in Spanish, saying it was a pleasure to finally meet the man that everyone is talking about, while Neil, making a big effort to comprehend, just nodded with a big blush on his cheeks. You found it endearing how nervous he looked, with his cheeks turning red and the way he was trying so hard to understand.

Neil, taking the initiative, moved closer to your grandparents. With great effort and good memory, he repeated the words you had taught him the night before while you were cuddled in bed. 

"Es un pequeño regalo... p-para ustedes," (‘This is a little gift… F-for you.’) he said, struggling to find the words and with the pronunciation, his face full of both a shy smile and embarrassment. Your grandparents laughed and took the gift. You added that the idea for the gift had been Neil’s.

Your grandparents opened the small bag and found five DVDs of their favorite Pedro Infante movies inside. They were surprised, and your grandfather stood up and hugged Neil. Neil responded, now feeling more relaxed after seeing their positive reaction. Ya lo amaban.

"Muchas gracias, mija, qué bonito detalle de parte de ustedes dos, pero no creas que con esto me va a gustar tu güero, eh!!" (‘Thank you so much, sweetie, what a nice gift from you two. But don’t think that with this I’ll finally like your white guy, eh!’) Your grandfather’s comment made you laugh, while your grandmother rolled her eyes and told you not to listen to him. She hugged both you and Neil.

Neil, confused about what was happening, asked you what they had said. Feeling a little guilty for forgetting that he didn’t understand, you explained, and he just smiled. The four of you spent more time sitting together, catching up with your grandparents, and sharing a bit about how you and Neil met and how obsessed he had become with the old Mexican 50s golden cinema movies. You felt proud of that.

Neil felt at home. Knowing that the family of his beloved girlfriend already treated him like part of their own made him feel that he could get used to this.

When your grandparents’ attention was required towards different conversations, your little cousins, finding Neil just as likable as a new toy, came up to him to play. The sight of Neil picking them up, giving them piggy back rides and playing with them outside made your guts whine and beg. He was so patient, so fun, all the potential of being a good dad shining through and giving your insides a longing that did not care for time, money and your current life situation. 

“One baby, just one, please” they cried, volume intensifying at the sound of your boyfriend’s laughter and your little cousins’ overjoyment. You shushed your instincts as best as you could, nearly distracted from the general life conversation with an aunt, but ultimately, you failed. Your eyes always found their way to Neil playing with the kids and everything yours ached and yearned. And while you wouldn’t satisfy the nearly cavewoman-y need to have Neil’s babies right now as your own logical thinking got in the way, there were other things you could and would do.

You couldn't resist the urge of your own necessities as a woman, how could one have a straight face and suppose to feel nothing, watching a man both handsome and cute, treating children as his own? One could never! So you excused yourself with one of your aunts giving her a vague excuse of needing to show something to Neil. 

You made your way to the backyard, where Neil was playing with your little cousins. You just couldn't contain yourself anymore. Watching the way the kids adore him, it was driving you mad insane. So you told your little cousins Neil needed to do something really important, they nodded with a pout on their faces.

“¿Me prometes que vas a volver?” (Do you promise you’ll be back?) The littlest one asked him. Somehow Neil understood that and just nodded, saying “yes, I promise”. You grabbed him by the hand and gave him a mischievous look, guiding him to the upstairs bathroom, you were too clever to do all the depraved things in the downstairs guest bathroom.

Neil, oh, Neil, always a good boy, following you around without any doubt, doing whatever you want when you want it. Doing all the things he could possibly do to make and see you happy. Little does he know what was about to happen.

Once you made sure nobody followed and watched you enter the same bathroom with Neil. You furiously grabbed him by his ugly sweater and pushed him onto you with a passionate kiss. Neil couldn't contain the little whimper that escaped from his soft lips. The savageness with which you pulled him, already making him hard. He struggled to keep up with your needy pace, between kisses he managed to say something. 

“B-baby!,” another kiss. “Baby! W-we, we need to stop!” He opened his mouth, already full of desire, to catch a breath once you pulled apart from his now swollen lips to just look at him intensely into his eyes. This made him flinch. “Uhmm, I- your, I mean—y-your family will suspect where we are!” 

He was all red and flustered, struggling to find the words and maintain eye contact with you. Finding his stuttering a turn on, and the way his mouth heavy opened in search of air. You pulled his ugly sweater off the way and made your way to kiss his neck. You knew how your teasing little kisses excited him a little too much. 

You started by the crook of his neck. Alternating between going to his weak spot—the back of his neck, and going down. Provoking anytype of whimper and whine from him. Leaving a mark right beside his neck mole. How cruel of you. You were enjoying this a little too much. By the time passing, Neil was growing needy. He grabbed you by your hip and pushed you against the wall turning you around, he returned the teasing kisses to your neck. Trying to take off your matching ugly sweater, but you didn't let him. Instead you pushed him, again, into the sink counter. 

Taking his ugly sweater off, your hands making its way to caress and to leave a way of goosebumps throughout his chest. You focused a little too much on his sensitive nipples. You looked straight into his eyes and without hesitation you leaned and suckled one of his nipples. Neil felt like he was about to cum in his pants. You have never tried something like this before, but he sure liked it. He almost moaned by the sensation of your soft lips licking and teasing one of his nipples, he tried to hold back anytype of sound emitting from his lips. You pulled apart and whispered something into his ear. 

“Oh, amor, you have no idea what you did to me out there”. Neil felt like he would explode right there and then.

“Sweetie, I-I have no idea of what you're talking about”. You just giggled. 

One of your hands going down to touch his clothed crotch. This took Neil by surprise, he held back his whimper.

 “Oh!, sweetie, you better stop or someone will come for us”. You didn't respond, to focus on rubbing your hand against his hard clothed cock. Starting to unbuckle the belt, you fell onto your knees. Looking up at him with wide innocent eyes. 

“Hmmm, baby-y, come on, we can't, your famil-” you didn't let him finish his sentence, because you pulled out his cock and give the tip little love kisses. Tasting the sweet flavour of his precum. 

“Ohh, fuck, sweetie, that feels so good”. That gave you more motivation to continue and to lick and suck his thick and large cock like the most delicious mango with chamoy and miguelito ice cream. Neil made a fist with your hair and guided your head up and down at his own pace. 

“Hmm, baby. Come on sweet thing, don't stop.”

You were a mess, drooling down your own spit and sweating a little for the effort. You pulled out for breath, Neil whined and made you go back to aggressively suck his cock. You weren't planning on letting him cum. You  felt Neil twitch inside your warm mouth, that indicated you to pull apart. 

“Mmph! Oh! Sugar. I-I’m about to come. Please! Please don't stop!” He pouted, his mouth into an agape waiting for his silent release. And then you suddenly pulled apart. This seems to make Neil groan. Looking down at you with needy eyes.

“Baby! W-why did you stop?!”. With the same innocent doe eyed gaze and teasing look in your eyes. You stand up, cleaning all the drool you had left on your mouth. Neil was too confused and desperate. 

“What? I thought that was what you wanted after all, precioso.” You didn't even give him a chance to fight back, because you opened the door and walked away. Leaving him all needy, bothered and unsatisfied. You can't deny it though, you are dripping wet and your panties are soaked. You didn't focus on your pleasure, sure there will be more time for that…

You weren't aware of how long you had been over there just teasing and overstimulating your sweet needy boyfriend, when you came downstairs, you noticed how busy all your family was, putting everything into place, accommodating the expensive crockery and silverware on the table and getting everything ready to eat. You felt relieved for a moment, nobody noticed the large amount of time you two were gone.

Poor Neil and his hard cock had to stay extra time in the bathroom, little whimpers muffled by his lip bite as you nonchalantly helped your grandmother to set the table down for dinner. You smiled to yourself, bottles of apple cider and glass cups clinking against the table. Nearly a buffet of several dishes made by your mom, your grandma, your aunts and even your cousins presented in different styles of containers for everyone to choose from. 

“Neil! Amor!. Time for dinner!” You called out for him so innocently yet chuckling pure mischief out of your system. Reluctantly and tucked as best as he could under his pants and ugly matching sweater, Neil emerged from the bathroom. One of his hands rubbed the side of your arm with a clear cute complaint. You smiled and pretended to not understand, taking him to the table to now add “culinary expert guide” to your set of skills. 

One by one, you explained what the dishes were, some more familiar to him than others: turkey with stuffing, baked pork leg bathed in sauce, tamales, mixiotes, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad and creamy spaghetti, along with a variety of homemade salsas. 

Your guidance was meant to be a saving grace for his white guy palate. Whatever was too spicy for him was going to be a no, but Neil didn't want to look ungrateful. That was the story of the first time he experienced "enchilarse": getting overwhelmed by the spiciness and feeling like his tongue burnt.

“¿Qué le pasa al güero?” (‘What’s up with the white guy?’) An uncle asked with just the slightest bit of concern but mostly just amusement, swirling a styrofoam cup of hot fruit punch in his hand.

“Se enchiló.” (‘He got overwhelmed by the spiciness’), you explained just as calmly, with Neil trying his best to act brave and downing his second glass of ice cold coke. 

Your uncle laughed and went his way, leaving you two alone for less than a minute. Neil had not yet recovered from the fire on his tongue when one of your aunts called you both over, a colorful star piñata on her arms and a pack of cousins urging you on.

“So… When it’s your turn, what you’re gonna do is grab that broomstick and hit the piñata with all your pent up rage, baby. Easy!” You explained, guiding Neil by the hand. Your tallest uncle worked the pulley system out in the yard, crepe paper of all the color spectrum dangling and flicking over.

“Don’t you have to be blindfolded for this?” Neil asked, his source, as usual, being the movies.

“Ehh…. Some people do it but, honestly, knowing my cousins… It’s not a good idea…” You grimaced, visions of flying broomsticks and accidental hits filling your head before you shook them all off. 

“Anyways! We sing this song every time somebody comes to hit it. Just… Clap your hands for now…” You smiled, granting him some mercy. Your poor gringo barely knew a few words in Spanish, how would you ask him to sing a whole song? 

“Yeah, babe. Don’t worry. In no time I’ll even be singing rancheras.” Neil smirked, that sweet lovely smirk of his that made your knees weak. You chuckled, where did he learn that from? Probably from one of the many golden era Mexican movies he had watched ever since he first met you. You leaned closer, placing a loving peck on his rosy lips. He hummed in delight, adoration coursing through the veins of his hands that cupped your beautiful face. Suddenly, an auntie patted you on the back.

“¡Déjense ahí, que ya van a partir la piñata!” (‘Knock it off, they’re gonna break the piñata!’) Your aunt exclaimed, your youngest cousin holding a paper decorated broomstick with the help of his mom. Settling with Neil by the sidelines, the whole “dale, dale, dale, no pierdas el tino” chant started, with your boyfriend so graciously marking the beats. 

Organized by age, your younger relatives took turns hitting the piñata, some just grazing it, some knocking whole sections off its structure and making them hit the ground. During your turn, Neil cheered as if you were running an olympic marathon. Sweet on his behalf, although the damage done to the piñata was rather minimal for its dying state. It needed a mercy blow from a guy with strong arms… and pretty blue eyes.

Your family cheered for “el güero”, Neil took the broomstick with charming awkwardness and gave it a tentative blow before hitting the cardboard with a loud thud. 

“Yeah, baby!” You cheered in between chants, Neil’s softball experience shining through with his final blow. Candies of all kinds, pieces of paper and cardboard flew all over the yard in a longed-for rain. Everybody, even your family members who didn’t even take a turn to hit the piñata, rushed to pick something off the floor. Neil’s big hands cradled fistfuls of bubblegum, lollipops, and chocolates that would go straight to one of the cones from the piñata that you rescued from the ground to use as a makeshift goodie bag. 

When everybody’s hunt for candy ended and after a second piñata was brought over the pulley system, Neil found his new title as the piñata finisher of your family from that point forward. A new good amount of candy filled your colorful cone. Neil, being a gentleman, gave you everything he picked up. 

After everyone had fun with the piñata and your younger cousins were fighting over who got the most candy, it was time for the most special and intimate moment as a family: opening the gifts! You had a tradition—after dinner and breaking the piñata, it was usually around 1 or 2 in the morning. That meant it was no longer Christmas Eve but officially Christmas. Time for the presents.

Of course, the youngest ones in the family didn’t waste any time. They rushed to the Christmas tree, eagerly searching for gifts with their names on them. Once they found them, your uncles and aunts took pictures of the huge smiles on their faces when they saw they had received what they wanted.

Then it was time for the adults! The tradition was to start with the youngest and work up to the oldest. A few of your younger cousins went first, their faces lighting up with big smiles as they unwrapped the thoughtful gifts they’d been given. Then it was your turn—and Neil’s.

Neil had the idea to start by giving out the gifts you had brought from the U.S. Naturally, everyone was curious and excited to see what you had brought. Neil, frustrated by his inability to communicate in Spanish, left the talking to you. He stood firmly by your side, holding your hand tightly, as if he thought you might run away.

"Familia, Neil y yo pensamos en cada uno de ustedes y trajimos regalos para todos, espero que les gusten!" (Family, Neil and I thought about each one of you and brought you gifts for everybody, I hope you like them!) You said, a huge smile on your face. Neil was captivated watching how happy you were being with your family. It made him want to be part of it forever.

Neil started handing out the gift bags and boxes to your family. Occasionally, he mixed up the names, but you were always there by his side to help him. When everyone began unwrapping their gifts one by one, the room was filled with laughter and exclamations: "Se la rifaron, prima," "Gracias, güero y prima!" "¿Cómo lo supieron?" "¡Está chidísimo, gracias, mija!" along with the sound of wrapping paper being torn open.

Watching your family so happy and united again made you wish you hadn’t been away for so long. Neil sat beside you, watching your relatives’ joyful reactions. As usual, he didn’t understand a word, but seeing you smile and your family so content was more than enough for him. Neil truly felt like part of your family.

After the excitement of the gifts brought from the U.S., it was the adults’ turn to open their presents. You couldn’t have been happier in those moments—your wonderful boyfriend was right there with you, and your family was having such a great time! And now, it seemed like your entire family adored him.

You felt overwhelmingly grateful and happy for this beautiful Christmas gift—true joy.

After everyone had shown off their gifts and shared their happiness at what they received for Christmas, it was time to dance. Of course, as good Mexicans, everyone hit the floor to dance to the rhythm of classic cumbias from Los Ángeles Azules or La Sonora Dinamita. Watching everyone dance made you want to pull Neil onto the dance floor.

He, reading your thoughts, stood up and reached for your hand. God, you truly loved the courage he showed at times like this.

"Baby, are you sure you know how to dance this?" you teased him.

"Of course, mi amor. At least I can try! Besides, I can’t be the only one not dancing with his beautiful girlfriend here!" The way he called you mi amor made butterflies flutter in your stomach like you were a 16-year-old girl again. You nodded and giggled.

You led the dance, and surprisingly, Neil matched your steps and the rhythm of the music effortlessly. It was almost as if he had been practicing—had he? You couldn’t help but wonder. Lately, he had improved so much, and it caught you off guard.

You were even more surprised when he danced to banda, salsa, merengue, and even the traditional songs at every Mexican party, like El Payaso del Rodeo. He didn’t stop there; he joined in on the most popular reggaeton hits, hyping up the party even more. You had no idea how Neil managed to keep up with so much dancing, singing, and chaos. It was clear he loved Mexican parties—and you loved him even more for it.

Later, the karaoke session began. When the most emotional songs started playing, your cousins and aunts grabbed the microphones to sing their hearts out. The songs ranged from salsa to Tex-Mex, banda, and even reggaeton.

By 5 a.m., the youngest kids were fast asleep on two chairs pushed together, wrapped in a blanket. Your cousins, however, were more alive than ever, while the adults were starting to give in to exhaustion.

Everyone finally agreed it was time to sleep. Exhausted, sweaty, and worn out from all the dancing and singing, they were eager to rest. The next day would be just as special—reheating Christmas dinner and spending more time with the family.

The bed distribution of the house was simple, you’d stay in your bedroom with Neil because, in all honesty, your parents were not naive and you two were adults. Neil sighed all the activities of the night away, throwing himself on your bed and bouncing over the cushions. You chuckled, throwing yourself by his side too.

“Did you have fun, love?” You asked with comforting enthusiasm, your arm coming to rest on his chest.

“It was nearly the best Christmas of my life, baby.” Neil whispered, his head turning to gaze into your eyes.

“Nearly??” You rose, an eyebrow curved and a play-pretend offence plastered all over your face.

“Yeah.” He just said, a chuckle hidden in the curve of his lips.

“But why, love?” You whined, leaning over him face to face.

“Because… my girl here decided to tease me and leave me all alone to jerk off in my in-laws’ bathroom like a horny highschooler…” He murmured, cupping your face lovingly but firmly.

“... Can I make it up to you?....” You tested every word out like they were brand new, the neglected dampness of your pussy coming back with fury. To make the statement clear, you took hold of your ugly sweater and tossed it aside, your lacy bra looking right at him. Neil’s expression softened, his mouth went dry. Once again, he was dumbfounded by you. 

“Oh, baby… But won’t they he-” Right away, you devoured the rest of the sentence off his mouth. Sweet traces of candy and cider mixing in both tongues, yours was needy, painfully slow. 

“We’ll be quiet…” You murmured against his plump rosy lips, not resisting the temptation of kissing them again. Tentatively, he rose, the kiss intact. He palmed the back of his jeans in search of something, you sat on your knees and took hold of what he presented to you: his opened wallet, a golden wrapper shining with the filtered moonlight from the curtains.

“As quiet as we can…” You corrected with a grin, the sound of the wrapper stupidly loud in the silent night. Neil hurried up, jeans and boxers down, his cock hard again and seeking you after everything you teased him with. 

Swiftly and well used to this, your hand took the condom and slid it down his aching dick. Neil´s lip stung with the sharp bite of his canine, his hands magnetically attracted to the clasp of your bra. He fumbled, you giggled, easing him with a kiss, anxiety at being heard, the possibility of your parents’ judgement and the pent up desire he felt for you manifesting in the nerve endings of his hands. Finally, he managed, pretty lace tossed into an unknown spot. Your pretty tits did not even have a second to feel the bedroom air when Neil’s hungry mouth stuck to one nipple.

“Neil…” A soft, breathy whisper that would not make it past the bricks, spackle and coats of paint that surrounded you. For Neil’s ears only. His crooked bottom tooth grazed the sensitive flesh, a soft suck to his defined shoulder silencing the louder reaction it got from you.

He sucked fervently, having to open his mouth to let your nipple go without a loud pop. Right away, he searched for the other one, sending shivers down your spine and into your soaked pussy. On instinct, you shifted, the denim around you burning your skin from just how aware you were of its uselessness. Neil resented your absence as you stood up to undress but quickly, the feeling of the rest of his clothes weighed heavy. Soon you were back on top, both fully naked and your dripping pussy looming over the tip of his dick.

“Baby…” He started, your lips shushing him off right away and capturing his low groan when you took hold of his hard latex clad cock.

After a few pumps, you pressed the tip to your wet entrance and sank ever so slowly. Neil fought everything in him to keep it quiet. Your tightness, your warmth, your sweet body… He was done for.

Slowly and quietly, you took him for a ride, his hands grabbed you hips tightly, holding onto you for support. In your thoughts, as you started to pick up the pace and you pussy took him in deeper, you thanked whoever manufactured both your bed and your mattress for unknowingly making them so quiet. You relaxed after a roll of your hips tested just how loud this bed could get, not much, as long as you didn’t fuck him like you wanted him to die on the spot.

Neil swallowed thickly, the veins of his cock pumping madly. He throbbed inside you, you clenched around him and then steadied the pace, gentle enough to not make the bed creak loudly, fast enough to make your tits bounce.

His hands cupped your breasts and rolled your nipples with the same speed you rolled your hips at. He tested a move, bucking his hips and sending his cock deeper in your tight cunt. It was now your turn to muffle out a moan.

It was pathetic to Neil, but after what you did in the bathroom, he was not in conditions to last long, pressure already building up in his balls the more you bounced on him and throbbed around his cock. 

Sneaking out, a moan from him made your quick hands cover his mouth before the rest could resonate within your room. Neil’s baby blue eyes squinted in an apology, you kept riding, accepting it.

Your hips kept rolling, your pussy kept squeezing him so stickily, Neil gripped your hips in need and over all, desperation. His hips kept bucking with some minimal wooden creaking from your bed. He felt everything around his thick cock sizzle and, before he could warn you with a sound muffled by the palm of your hand, a hot spurt of cum filled the condom.

He shut his eyes, his lips pressing against your palm and almost burning his print on it from just how hard he did it. His hips bucked, you bounced on him more, your greedy pussy forgetting for a moment about the condom and eagerly milking him dry. His nails left crescent moons on your hips.

Your cunt nested him for a while, his hot breath tickling the skin of your hand. It was then when, in the serenity of his post-orgasmic bliss and your still not satisfied but content state, Neil caught you by surprise. With a hidden supply of stamina, Neil flipped you over, the bed gently grunting beneath you.

“I should leave you like this…” He groaned into your neck, placing a kiss on the skin there before lifting himself off. A well deserved revenge from the bathroom incident. You whined, your pussy fluttering and begging for more, so close yet so far from an orgasm that he could easily deny you like you denied him. 

And he would, if he had an ounce of cockiness or mischief or the stupidity that would allow a man to have such a beautiful girl like you and just decide not fully please her. But he wasn’t like that. Your sweet, adoring, whipped Neil couldn’t even house the thought in his head for more than a few seconds.

So, he killed you with kindness, giving you a loving kiss and snaking his hand towards your long ignored clit. You moaned, Neil kissed you deeper. The perfect ebbing electricity of his touch made your body tremble. 

“Neil…” You whimpered into his mouth, his guitar scars adding a rougher edge to your sensitive flesh. Neil circled your clit faster, your own slick easing this. Your sweet pussy clenched around nothing right before a finger fixed that problem.

His touch was so certain, so good. Neil did not stop once, he didn't leave you hanging. His finger pumping your tight warm pussy, his thumb circling your clit until your toes curled over the duvet and your cunt fluttered on its own. A second finger came into the scene to stretch you open the curl inside you. You whimpered as quietly as you could, and before you knew it, you had to bite onto his shoulder to muffle out your cry of pleasure.

Neil helped you through your orgasm and guided you along so lovingly, so patiently, even with the sting on his flesh. At the end, he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean with a gentle groan, nuzzling against you in a loving embrace, confirming what you already knew: this was the best Christmas of your life.

Pinterest moodboard to help you visualize a mexican christmas!

[marvell-07]

Merry Christmas everyone!! In honor of the holidays, here is one of my more extensive headcanons about the Sonic 3 Movie. SPOILERS ahead so be warned! 🎄

—————————

At the end of the Sonic three movie, Shadow gets nerfed to hell and dies in an explosion. Except we never see his death on screen and we know the movie is based on Sonic Adventure 2 and Shadow the Hedgehog. In those games Shadow managed to eject himself from the ARK and escape alive. However he suffers from amnesia and now has a fragmented memory. He can only remember his name and Maria’s death. So you know I’m about to write some angsty hc off of this.

Shadow would wander around aimlessly, trying to find remnants of who he was and what his life was before he lost his memory. The problem is that there’s barely anything left. Even if he manages to return to the site of the lab, he had set off the mini black hole in there. Any evidence of what happened, any evidence of Maria, was destroyed in that blast.

The only person who would know about Maria and what Shadow did afterward would be sonic. Sonic was in that lab, he heard the story and saw what happened. He was also the one to spend the most time with Shadow and hear about his pain and loss before teaming up.

Except I have a few ideas regarding this. What if something did survive the explosion of the black hole? The picture of Shadow and Maria. While exploring the lab Sonic found Maria’s room and saw the fort and picture. It was a family portrait, and to him it felt too special, too important, to be left behind in an abandoned lab. It reminded him of the drawing he made of him and Longclaw in the cave. It was all he had left of a family member he lost… just like Shadow. So what if he took the photo with him? Sonic intended to give the photo back to Shadow after they made up, but never got the chance. So now he keeps it as a way to honor and remember both Shadow and Maria.

Now keeping Shadow’s most likely survival in mind, what if after Sonic and Shadow see eachother again, Sonic shows him the photo to convince Shadow to at least hear him out. It leads into Sonic getting slammed into a wall by a very paranoid personification of Hot Topic who demands answers. I think even after hearing the story, Shadow would be confused and apprehensive. So Sonic hands him the photo and tells him that he knows what it’s like to be lost, and that Shadow has a friend if he needs it.

With the amnesia, Shadow would have almost a constant source of anger and guilt and sadness for things he doesn’t even remember. It drives him crazy that he feels so much and doesn’t even know why. When Shadow gets too caught up in his own head, Sonic asks him to tell him about Maria. It’s the one thing he can reliably talk about and it’s some of the only good memories he has.

Shadow chooses to trust Sonic not just because of Maria’s photo or the kind words, but because he can feel that Sonic is a good person. Sitting on that moon with Sonic and watching the stars was the beginning of closure and resolution to all of Shadow’s pain and trauma. And then immediately after that he shared the power of the chaos emerald in harmony with Sonic. That connection remains to be something familiar. However, in a way, that feeling of comfortability and kindness is foreign. He hadn’t felt that since Maria and look how that turned out. Part of it scares Shadow and he doesn’t know how to handle not being constantly alert.

Even if Shadow does permanently join up with the team I don’t see him living with them. He doesn’t have that family dynamic with Tom and Maddie like the others, and I’m not sure he wants to yet. Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles had lost their families a while before they met Tom and Maddie, they had time to grieve and find that desire to want and accept a family again. Shadow doesn’t have that, not yet. With that being said, there isn’t really anywhere else for him to go, both the lab and the ship were destroyed.

So what if he lives in Sonic’s old home? Just until they can find somewhere better for him. It’s secluded and private but not so far away that they wouldn’t be able to go see him. Shadow doesn’t have anywhere else to go so why not. Sonic decks it out for him and even finds a picture frame for Maria’s photo.

[oceanicwriting]

is not allowed.

summary: since the holidays began, you have taken care of the youngest son of the berkshire family. one night, while the little one sleeps, the creature's older brother is home, and the sensations begin to be too intense to keep you standing.

pairing(s): non-wizard!lorenzo berkshire x non-wizard!fem!reader

a/n: my first lorenzo fic! i tried my best :-)

+18 smut, oral sex (fem receiving), masturbation (fem receiving), cursing, silence sex (?)

ㅤㅤㅤ—we're leaving! —mrs. berkshire announces, appearing in the kitchen where franklin, her youngest son, is eating dinner—. remember...

ㅤㅤㅤ—no more video games and straight to sleep when the clock strikes eight —the little one interrupts, receiving a loud kiss from his mother and four pats on the back from his father—. you've already told her many times, mom.

ㅤㅤㅤthe woman laughs, and even if franklin had told her, she repeats her conditions again in a whisper. when they leave, the boy starts talking about his best friend carl's birthday party.

ㅤㅤㅤever since summer started and you returned to your hometown, you've taken care of franklin berkshire. your mother, who has been a friend of the family for a while, had helped you get the job that the other babysitter had abandoned for no apparent reason. no one talked about it, and when you asked franklin the first few weeks, he always got in a bad mood.

ㅤㅤㅤ—and lisa made out with holden —he says, finishing telling all the things that happened on that birthday. you look at him, surprised by what he had just said—. a kiss on the cheek.

ㅤㅤㅤ—that seems more appropriate to me. aren't you, like, five years old to be making out? —the little boy's face at your words makes you laugh, but you stop when you notice that he is pushing the asparagus away from his salad—. you must eat everything that is on your plate, young man.

ㅤㅤㅤ—we are ten years old. —he answers, crossing his arms—. and i do not like asparagus.

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh softly, but you stop when lorenzo berkshire, the oldest son of the family, appears well dressed in the kitchen.

ㅤㅤㅤ—she told you that you have to eat everything, dwarf. —his thick voice fills all the empty space of the place, and you can notice how franklin tense with his presence—. she will accuse you with your mommy.

ㅤㅤㅤyou knew they didn't get along at all. franklin started saying he was a fool from day one, and when you met him, you could only confirm it.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo...

ㅤㅤㅤ—you don't order me around —franklin says, getting up from his chair to leave the kitchen with quick steps.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo rolls his eyes, and you go after the little boy, but you stop to look at him and say—: can you stop picking fights with him? he's just a kid.

ㅤㅤㅤhe looks at you. his cold, disinterested eyes are attractive, making you forget that you're after the boy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—will you wash this glass for me, darling? —he leaves the glass in which he drank water and smiles satisfied—. thanks.

ㅤㅤㅤyou want to say something, but lorenzo walks out the door to the garage, not in the mood to listen to you much longer.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen you meet franklin in the living room, you notice that he's still frowning. to cheer him up, you suggest to play a board game until eight o'clock, filling the room with your laughter and complaints every time you beat him. you play until the phone rings the alarm that tells you to get him ready for bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you still mad about your brother? —you ask. he's lying in his bed, covered up to his neck, and his uneasy gaze glued to the ceiling of the room.— you know he does this to make you angry, franklin. you shouldn't listen to him.

ㅤㅤㅤ—he's an idiot.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod softly, leaving a kiss on his forehead to wish him goodnight and leaving the room. as usual, you leave the door ajar in case he wakes up in the middle of the night and goes down to the first floor.

ㅤㅤㅤmr. and mrs. berkshire would arrive home around midnight, so, killing time, you start washing franklin's dirty dishes.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen it was around ten at night, you decided to watch a movie in the living room, but you couldn't do it without some snacks to accompany you. in the cupboard, you look for a bag of popcorn to make in the microwave, although you didn't finish closing the appliance because lorenzo's presence in the kitchen makes its way like a tornado.

ㅤㅤㅤthe garage door had closed so hard that it practically echoed throughout the block, and his footsteps weren't far behind. his whole body moved tensely towards the kitchen exit, dragging an air full of rage.

ㅤㅤㅤ—franklin is asleep, lorenzo. —the simple sound of your voice makes him stop halfway, turning on his heels—. i would appreciate it if you did not stomp so hard on the second floor.

ㅤㅤㅤhis eyes scan your body, this time more slowly than before leaving a few hours ago. the confusion in your gaze is obvious, but lorenzo does not seem to notice it. he was so angry at the way his now ex-girlfriend had treated him that he did not notice anything other than the figure of your body.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what time do my parents arrive? —he asks, walking in your direction slowly.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo berkshire is a tall boy with brown hair and eyes. his smooth, flawless skin gave the impression that he had never had a bad day in his life. he was spoiled, envious, demanding, and the epitome of beauty in all its letters.

ㅤㅤㅤ—at midnight —you answer, putting the bags of popcorn in the microwave and walking to find a bowl to put them in.

ㅤㅤㅤ—that gives me enough time —he says. you were going to ignore his words and the way your body reacted to feeling his gaze on you, but you can't when his hand tightens on your arm—. do you have a boyfriend?

ㅤㅤㅤ—what? —you pull on his arm to get him to let go of you, but there is no reaction from him—. what are you doing? leave me.

ㅤㅤㅤhe shakes his head, cornering you against the nearest wall.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you have a boyfriend?

ㅤㅤㅤ—why do you care?

ㅤㅤㅤyour head spins from the strong scent of alcohol on his breath and expensive perfume wafting from his bare neck. lorenzo has his dark eyes glued to yours so intensely that it was suffocating.

ㅤㅤㅤ—no. i don't have a boyfriend.

ㅤㅤㅤhe smiles, satisfied that he doesn't have to do much more to get an answer out of you. his tongue runs over his teeth in the middle of his smile, and you feel a dead weight fall on your stomach. the hand that was holding your arm began to rise with the tips of his fingers caressing your skin. when he reaches your neck, without stopping to look at you, your whole body bristles.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo, what are you...?

ㅤㅤㅤ—so precious.

ㅤㅤㅤhis face moves closer to the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses, running his tongue over it, and sucking on parts of your skin. your perfume stings his nose, and you can feel him sigh against you. the sensations blooming unsettle you because you knew you were doing something that wasn't allowed. something forbidden was brewing between you two, and you had to do something before it get out of control.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo, wait —you say, pushing him. he responds to your reaction with a raised eyebrow—. your brother is sleeping upstairs.

ㅤㅤㅤyou should have said something else to stop him, something as simple as not wanting to do it, but the unsatisfied feeling had already begun to torture your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—then you better not be so boisterous, precious.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo pulls your arm, pushing you afterward against the island. everything happens so fast that from one moment to the next, you are sitting on the raw ivory of the island, half dressed and feeling his mouth wander fearlessly along the expanse of your torso. this time, he bites, licks, and sucks more roughly than a few minutes ago when he hid his face in your neck.

ㅤㅤㅤyour breathing becomes disordered when you can feel his messy hair tickling the inside of your thighs. his face so close to your needy pussy makes you clench the throbbing wetness. lorenzo smiles like a predator and begins to kiss the expanse of your soft legs.

ㅤㅤㅤ—l-lorenzo —you try to say, formulate a complete sentence that would make him enter his five senses, but you can't when you yourself feel your own desire forming—. please.

ㅤㅤㅤhis mouth slams against your pussy, making you jump at the sensation. lorenzo's tongue wanders between your lips, clitoris and entrance as if he wanted to memorize every texture he can find. it's a matter of time before your moans have to be silenced by your own hand.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo berkshire knew how to tap his tongue against your folds, how to suck on your clit until you were satisfied and how to look at you to turn you into a bundle of muffled moans. although you would never have imagined it, now that you see him there, you think about how much you would like to do it more often.

ㅤㅤㅤshortly after, one of his hands joins the wetness of his mouth, burying himself without any preparation in you. tears accumulate in your eyes from the combination of his fingers probing your insides roughly and his mouth demanding more every time a moan escaped you. the sensations begin to drive you crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤhe can notice the way your thighs squeeze his head, so he sucks and flicks his tongue faster as his fingers don't leave a moment of peace. as surprising as it may be, the desire you had built up explodes against his face buried in you. his fingers are the first to break contact, but his lips are still there, taking every drop of your liquids.

ㅤㅤㅤ—e-enzo.

ㅤㅤㅤhe looks at you, letting the cold of his absence crash against your pussy.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what's the problem, darling? why do you have that face? —the mocking tone that colors his voice only sends thousands of exciting signals throughout your body—. i can't wait to be inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo unbuttons his shirt, throwing it to the floor and unbuttoning his pants afterward. when he's half naked, you can make out the bulge pressed against his underwear, a bulge that he leaves free before your gaze, and he smiles satisfied by the expression on your face.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you're going to come ask me for more, i know it —he says. there's so little shame in his gaze that you can't believe what you were about to do—. this is all for you for tonight.

ㅤㅤㅤhe takes your legs, his hands burying themselves in your skin to put them on his shoulders. your back falls against the cold surface of the island.

ㅤㅤㅤ—why aren't you saying anything?

ㅤㅤㅤyou look away, knowing that you were a terrible liar and in a vulnerable state like this, you wouldn't be able to go unnoticed. you wanted him to bury himself in you, to find a space inside you and make you cum like he did a moment ago. lorenzo can't stand that you don't look at him and pulls your hair to force you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come on, tell me.

ㅤㅤㅤhis brown gaze fixed on yours and his erect member pushing against your pussy don't let you think clearly.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo, please. i need you to do it.

ㅤㅤㅤa smile draws on his lips, pushing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you need me to do what? —he whispers, slowly thrusting inside you—. so tight.

ㅤㅤㅤthe sensation starts to burn, hurt, and transform into a thousand other things in moments.

ㅤㅤㅤ—answer the fucking question.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need you to make me come again, please. lorenzo, i need you.

ㅤㅤㅤwith one push, he finds himself balls deep inside you. your legs are on his shoulders, hugged by one of his arms, and his free hand covers your mouth as you let out a loud moan. the sensation filling every corner of your body so perfectly that it was exquisite.

ㅤㅤㅤ—shut your mouth, shit.

ㅤㅤㅤthat doesn't stop his movement, going in and out faster each time. lorenzo was just as eager as you to feel you. ha was watching your breasts bounce from the rhythm he's set, eyes filled with tears from the inability to moan like you want and hot air hitting his hand. he loved the sight so much that he could fuck you all night if he had the chance.

ㅤㅤㅤ—more? —he questions, still moving his hips.

ㅤㅤㅤyou look at him, his breasts as erratic as yours and his collar bouncing every time he hits you. the sound of your skin colliding is heard louder and louder on the walls of the kitchen.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i can feel you want more when you squeeze my cock.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nods, almost crying desperately.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo's back and forth starts to get messier but fast. the feeling of his cock burying itself deeper and deeper, drowning your moans each time and holding you were turning your head into a jumble of insane thoughts.

ㅤㅤㅤhe can notice how your body reacts, squeezing his cock more and more. then, letting go of your legs to fall on either side of his hip, he begins to massage your clit in quick circles. your back arches from the outbreak of all your desire about to explode again.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come on, precious, cum like you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo stretches over you, uncovering your mouth and kissing you in a messy movement. that had been enough to make you come in a scream that is muffled against his hot mouth. his member still inside you, his tongue now wandering around the inside of your mouth and his hand coming up to hold you cheek. there was so much charge in that kiss that the separation of his body against yours is surprising.

ㅤㅤㅤ—clean up this mess before my parents get here —he says, taking his clothes and putting on his pants.

ㅤㅤㅤsomehow, confused and weak, you try to clean up the mess until you realize that you just had sex with the older brother of the boy you were going to take care of for the rest of the long summer.

[lafortezaboy]

hey babes i'm sorry to hear that you have a time during the holidays 😢

this is actually my first time ever requesting !

can i request some dani x tmasc reader please 🙏

thank you lovely! you're a sweetheart, and holiday things did get a little overwhelming so i've only just gotten around to this, but i hope you enjoy! and, i'm honored to be your first request!!

content / warnings: established relationship, reader is an influencer, reader uses he / him pronouns, reader talks about being trans / realizing they were trans, there's no explicit transphobia but there are mentions of it, so please keep that in mind before reading

it wasn't often that you spent the night at the dorm. while you loved all the girls in your own way, with five other people living there, it could get chaotic quickly, and sometimes you and daniela just wanted to spend some time together. but when you had texted your girlfriend, asking if she wanted to come watch a new show with you, the texts you'd gotten back were worrisome.

daniela was never truly down. sure, she was just like everyone else and could be upset or sad, but her bright personality nearly always outshined in the end. unless something serious was wrong, she could shrug off anything. so getting the text that she didn't want to leave her bed? you'd told her you'd be there as soon as you could be, knowing that something was up.

getting to the dorm was no trouble, and sophia wasn't surprised to see you at all when she opened the door. that alone confirmed it, that something was wrong, and you needed to find out what. as soon as she saw you enter her room, she was lifting the blanket up for you, and you were slipping in beside her to pull her close, pressing kisses to her cheeks and the tip of her nose, telling her that it was okay, that you had her now.

you couldn't tell how much time passed as you held her, waiting until she was ready to talk, if she was willing to at all. you didn't mind the silence, though. you could hear faint squeals from one of the other girls – megan, if you had to guess, and you could hear the light noises that came with sophia making dinner. but daniela was what you focused on, on the way her hair felt so soft between your fingers, how her head rested perfectly in your neck, the comforting scent of her perfume. you could have fallen asleep, honestly, but when she shifted to look at you, she had your undivided attention.

"can i ask you something? about . . . about you, you know?" the way she asked the question clued you in pretty quickly, because you'd heard it before, from friends and family who were confused, from people who didn't understand. but her tone didn't feel the way theirs had, daniela seemed hesitant, but still a little curious. so you gave a little nod, fingers still running through her hair. "how did you know? that you're a man?"

the way she said it reassured that she meant no harm by it. others had worded it in such a way that had made you internally groan, fully expecting an argument by the time you were done. but she said it so surely, like she had no doubts, and that was partly why you felt the answer come so easily.

"well, for a while i didn't," you admitted, gazing up at the ceiling fan, watching the blades spin. "i knew i had always liked girls, and i was always a tomboy, but the gender stuff didn't really come in until puberty hit, and i started hating the way my body was changing." her arms tighten around you then, and you lean a little into her more, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead to show that you were okay.

"i started hating myself too, for a while, but i have great parents, and the second they realized i wasn't okay, they got me into a therapist. but i wasn't comfortable at first, because i had a woman therapist, and it just didn't feel like stuff i could say to a woman? so i asked to switch, and then they gave me this male therapist. and i could talk to him about stuff, you know? like sports and cars and video games, and all these things i had been taught that were the standard guy things, and i felt really comfortable with him. but i was jealous too, because i was going through all these changes and i didn't understand why my body couldn't look like his. why my voice couldn't get deeper or i couldn't grow facial hair, why i couldn't get taller. and eventually, i opened up to him about that, and he gave me a whole bunch of stuff to read about gender and sexuality."

you let out a small sigh then, and you could feel daniela's eyes on you, checking for any signs of discomfort. your arm just squeezed her a little, hoping to reassure her that it was okay. "so i read all the stuff, and it kinda just clicked to me that i was trans? and i think that i really knew a few months into transitioning, when my dad called me son like he did my brother, and it just felt right? like i didn't have to be the person i felt like i was forced to be, i could just be me, and my family would love me and have my back."

daniela's hand had made its way to your chest, and after you finished talking, yours came up to hold it, bringing it to your lips gently. "is there a reason you wanted to know, dani?" you asked, glancing over at her. the way her eyes avoided yours told you the answer, but you waited, wanting her to open up in her own time.

"this morning i . . . you know i watch all your tiktoks, like a lot," she started, and you let out a little hum. she did do that, she loved seeing the things you posted. "and there was one where your shirt was off, and i thought i would get to see people drooling over you in the comments and get all cocky because you're mine, but there were a lot of people being gross." it didn't take you any time to realize what she meant, and you just nodded a little.

"yeah, that happens all the time baby," you told her softly. she huffed then, arms tightening around you once again. "well it's bullshit, and i don't like it ," she grumbled, and you couldn't help the little laugh that escaped you. "i don't like it either princess, but it's there. it's always gonna be there, in some way or another. there's always going to be some asshole who wants to hurt people, but just because they try, that doesn't mean that they do get to hurt me. like, i'm comfortable in my own skin, and i'm doing what i love, surrounded by the people i love, and i have the most perfect girl anyone could ever ask for as my girlfriend. some losers on the internet aren't going to ruin my day by being dicks in my comments."

she was quiet for a moment after, and you simply let your fingers begin running through her hair once again. eventually though, her hand came up, tilting yours to the side to press a soft kiss against your lips. you kissed her back in an instant, lingering as long as she'd let you, but she pulled away much too soon.

"you can't ever change, okay?" she said, hand still on your cheek. "because if you change, they win, and then i'd have to beat them up. and i don't really want to go to jail, but i will." you laughed before you could stop it, and she quickly joined you, pulling you closer to her. you wrapped your arms around her completely then, rolling the two of you over so you were hovering over her. she moved with you, and once she was flat on her back, she looked up at you with such devotion in her eyes that your breath caught in your throat.

your fingers came up then, brushing her hair behind her ear gently as you looked at her. "i won't let them win, i promise. because if you do go to jail over me, i'd lose sophia's approval. and i really like being allowed over, because then i get to do this." and she seemed to read your mind because hands were cupping your face as you leaned down, pressing your lips against hers gently.

[lilmisshellfireswritingblog]

The Prophecy Chapter 4: I'm So Afraid I Sealed My Fate

Summary: Aurelia and Lucius begin their duties as Emperor and Empress after their wedding. (I don't want to spoil too much...)

A/N: I had a lot of downtime at work today so I wrote. Oops. I will say, I will probably slow down over the weekend since my family is in town but, we'll carry on. I was also just really excited to post this chapter because of the first flashback and how everything sort of came full circle. Anyway, thank you for reading and your encouragement as always.

Warnings: 18+ only, gladiator violence, use of flashbacks, talks about marriage consummation, geta being geta, lucius being nice, historical inaccuracies, a surprise.

Separator banner credit to: sweetmelodygraphics.

Flashback - The Colosseum

The air was thick with dust, the unmistakable scent of sweat and blood mingling with the air. The Colosseum, towering and oppressive, was filled with the roars of the crowd, their voices echoing like thunder across the stone arena. Aurelia sat in the imperial box, her posture composed but her heart racing with the violent spectacle unfolding before her eyes. Beside her, Geta sat with his customary detachment, the dark rings beneath his eyes belying his usual indifference to such bloodshed.

Yet, even he couldn’t deny the energy in the air tonight—there was something different, something more intense than usual. And it wasn’t just because the Emperor had insisted that the spectacle be grander than any in recent memory. It was because of one man—one gladiator—who had risen through the ranks with an audacity that made even the most seasoned fighters in the arena take notice.

Hanno.

Aurelia had heard the rumors long before the fight began. Hanno, the gladiator from Numidia. His eyes were like blue flames, a piercing contrast to the sweltering heat and white sands of the arena. He had defeated opponent after opponent with brutal precision, and tonight, the crowd buzzed with anticipation. Whispers had already begun to swirl about him, not just as a gladiator, but as a force who might be more than just a slave. His strength and skill were undeniable, but there was something else—something in the way he held himself, something regal beneath the dust and sweat of the gladiatorial ring.

Aurelia, despite herself, was intrigued.

"Do you think he’ll win tonight?" she asked quietly, glancing at Geta, whose expression remained neutral.

"He’s a gladiator," Geta replied, his voice low, tinged with a hint of boredom. "They all fight to survive. What does it matter who wins? It’s just blood and spectacle to keep the people entertained."

Aurelia didn’t respond immediately. She knew his opinion on these events—he saw them as little more than distractions for the masses, ways to control the population. But to her, they were more than that. The arena, despite the violence and cruelty, had a way of stripping men to their core, showing the raw power of will and survival.

The gates on the far side of the arena creaked open, and the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers as the fighters entered. Aurelia’s breath caught as she caught sight of him—Hanno. He stood tall, his body sculpted with muscle, his movements controlled and measured. His striking blue eyes scanned the crowd, taking in the thousands of spectators who were hungry for his blood. His gaze briefly met hers, and for a split second, something passed between them—an unspoken recognition. But the moment was fleeting, and soon he turned his attention back to his opponents.

Geta leaned forward, his eyes sharp and calculating, though his expression was impassive. It was clear he was watching the gladiator with more interest than he cared to admit.

The fight began with a deafening roar from the crowd. Hanno’s opponents were well-trained, seasoned warriors, but they were no match for him. His movements were like a predator—swift, precise, and utterly relentless. Aurelia couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Each strike, each maneuver, was executed with a brutal grace that left the other gladiators scrambling for their lives. And yet, there was something almost… noble about him, as if he was above the bloodshed, as though he wasn’t merely fighting for survival, but something deeper, something that none of the other gladiators could understand.

Aurelia’s heart skipped a beat as Hanno drove his sword into the chest of one of his opponents, sending the man sprawling to the ground in a heap. The crowd roared, but Aurelia didn’t cheer. She simply watched, feeling a strange sense of admiration mixed with something else—something she couldn’t name.

Geta, as always, remained unmoved by the spectacle. His eyes flickered briefly to Aurelia, but there was no sign of emotion on his face. "Impressive, isn’t he?" he commented flatly. "But that’s all it is—brutality and strength. Nothing more."

Aurelia said nothing, her eyes still fixed on Hanno. He was now facing his final opponent—a hulking man twice his size. The fight between them was fierce, a whirlwind of steel and sweat. For a moment, it seemed like Hanno might falter under the sheer strength of the larger gladiator. But then, in one swift, fluid motion, Hanno sidestepped the man’s overhead strike, and with a brutal twist, he brought his sword down across the gladiator’s side, opening a gash so deep that the man collapsed in an instant.

The crowd was beside itself, screaming in wild approval. Aurelia felt a strange pulse of admiration surge through her chest, her breath catching in her throat as Hanno stood victorious, his chest rising and falling with the exertion of battle. His gaze, once again, found hers in the sea of faces. This time, there was no mistaking it—there was an acknowledgment in his eyes, a recognition of the moment. And just like that, the gladiator became more than a mere slave in her eyes. He became a man.

The emperor’s herald stepped forward, calling for the final decision. Hanno dropped to one knee, his chest heaving, blood staining his gladiator’s garb. The crowd fell into a hush, and the arena became a vast, expectant silence.

Geta stood from his seat, signaling the end of the fight. His expression was inscrutable, though a flicker of something akin to disdain passed over his face as he raised his hand in judgment.

Aurelia watched as Hanno, still kneeling, lowered his head in silent submission. It was then, for the briefest moment, that she saw the flicker of something in his eyes—a fire, an unwillingness to accept his fate.

"Spare him," she murmured, almost to herself. The words were out before she could stop them, and she could feel Geta’s eyes on her as he turned to her, a quizzical expression on his face. But Aurelia didn’t care. She couldn’t shake the image of that blue-eyed gladiator, the way he had fought with something more than just survival in mind.

"Spare him," she repeated, louder this time, her gaze locked onto Geta as he stood on his platform. There was a sharp edge to her voice now, a demand that even the Emperor couldn’t ignore.

Geta glanced at her, a smile twisting on his lips. "As you wish, my empress," he said, his tone mocking. "If it pleases you, the gladiator lives."

Aurelia’s heart fluttered at the sight of Hanno, still kneeling, now spared the death blow. The crowd cheered, though their applause was tinged with confusion. Geta, ever the pragmatist, gave no outward sign of his thoughts, but Aurelia could feel the weight of his silence.

And as Hanno was led away, she found herself wondering who he really was beneath the armor. Was he merely a slave, bound by chains to fight for the entertainment of the empire, or was there something more?

Something that went beyond the blood and brutality of the arena and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

But it was enough to spare his life. 

It had been a two weeks since their wedding. Two weeks of ceremonial duties, public appearances, and state dinners—nothing more than a series of obligatory events that bound Aurelia and Lucius together in the eyes of the court. In private, the distance between them was palpable. Their marriage, meant to solidify power, felt like a cage for both of them, though for different reasons.

Aurelia stood at the grand window of their chambers, gazing out over the sprawling city of Rome. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the horizon, the golden light reflecting off the marble columns and red-tiled rooftops below. She could hear Lucius in the background, his voice low as he spoke to a servant, discussing plans for the next day’s meetings.

She had grown accustomed to the sounds of the palace—the rustle of attendants, the faint murmur of the Senate in the distance—but there was something about Lucius's voice that grated on her. It was too confident. Too sure. Too... calculated.

She had not expected things to be easy, but this? This was unbearable.

She could feel the familiar stirrings of irritation deep in her chest. She was not used to this—being with someone so different. So unfamiliar.

So unloving.

Her thoughts drifted back to her marriage with Geta. While their relationship had been cruel in many ways, there had been an odd, twisted comfort in the way they had understood one another. There had been a certain coldness between them that she had accepted. It had been familiar—almost like a numbness that she could count on.

With Lucius, there was none of that. No cold understanding. He was too warm, too eager to please. Too desperate, perhaps, to make their union something it could never be and to please the people of Rome.

Aurelia turned sharply, her eyes landing on him. Lucius had just dismissed the servant, his posture upright, a warrior’s grace to him. But his eyes—those piercing blue eyes—tracked her now, catching her gaze with an unsettling intensity.

"Is something on your mind, Aurelia?" he asked, his voice smooth but with a note of inquiry, the same calm, measured tone he used in everything.

Her lips tightened, and her eyes narrowed, though she quickly masked the irritation flickering inside her.

“No,” she replied stiffly, her voice flat. “Nothing at all.”

He took a step closer, his expression unreadable, but there was something about his presence that made her skin crawl. She did not want him near her. Not like this. Not when he thought their marriage was some blossoming partnership, when he seemed to believe that affection would grow from their union, just because it was expected.

It would never be like that.

She had learned to survive in a world of cruelty and silence. That was how she had lived with Geta. But with Lucius, there was this pressing need to please, to soften every conversation, every glance, and Aurelia hated it. She resented it. His sincerity felt like a burden. It felt like a trap.

Lucius reached out as though to touch her, his hand hovering just above her arm. But she stepped back, her movements sharp.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice colder than she intended, though she didn’t care. She hated how his touch made her feel. His hand hovered there for a brief moment before he withdrew it, his brow furrowing as though he had been struck.

“Forgive me,” he said quietly, though the apology didn’t seem to reach his eyes. "I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

Aurelia’s lips parted, but no words came out at first. She pressed her hand to her temple, trying to clear her thoughts. She had to be careful. She could not show weakness, not to him—not when he thought this was going to be easy. She wouldn’t let him break her, wouldn’t let him worm his way in with his gentle gestures and earnest speeches. She had been through too much to let herself be a fool again.

“I need some air,” she said quickly, stepping toward the door.

Lucius didn’t stop her, but he did follow her with his eyes. His voice, soft, was almost pleading as he asked, “Aurelia, are you sure you want to be alone right now? We could—”

“No,” she cut him off, spinning around to face him, her hands clenched at her sides. “I don’t want to talk, Lucius. I’m tired of talking.”

His expression faltered at the venom in her words, but he remained silent. Aurelia could see the confusion in his eyes, the hurt, but it only irritated her more. She did not owe him anything. She did not owe him the mask of affection that he so desperately sought.

"Perhaps we should talk about this marriage, then if you really want to talk," she continued, her voice sharp and cold. "About what it really is and what it's going to be."

Lucius’s eyes darkened at her challenge. He took a step forward, his jaw tightening but there was still that restrained calm in his movements.

“Aurelia, we don’t need to keep pretending that—” he began, his voice steady.

“No,” she snapped. “Don’t tell me how I feel. Don’t tell me what I need. Don’t tell me about sadness. I’ve had enough of being told what’s expected of me.”

Aurelia felt a spark of something—rage, perhaps, or was it simply frustration at the way he constantly tried to read her, to manipulate her emotions? He was so transparent in his efforts. It was nothing like the coldness she had known with Geta. It was something far more insidious, far more irritating.

Far more human.

Lucius took another step, closing the distance between them. His eyes searched hers, trying to understand her, to reach her. But she refused to let him in.

“You’re angry," he observed, his voice calm despite her outburst. "But you don’t have to be. You don’t need to keep pushing me away. I’m not your enemy.”

She clenched her jaw and shook her head, her fists tightening at her sides. “No. You’re not my enemy. You’re my husband.”

Her words were laced with irony and they hung in the air between them, heavy and bitter. He was right in one regard—she had been pushing him away but it was more than that. She resented him, not because of what he had done, but because of what he was trying to make her feel. She could not let him control this. She could not let him have the parts of her that she had already closed off, the parts that were broken and tired.

His gaze flickered with something—regret, perhaps—but there was no pity in him. Not like Geta.

“Then what do you want from me?” he asked, voice quieter now. “Tell me what you want, Aurelia.”

Aurelia stood there for a long moment, her chest rising and falling with the weight of her frustration. She could feel the tightness of her muscles, the ache in her bones from carrying all of this resentment. She felt trapped in this marriage, trapped in this palace, trapped in this life.

“I want to be left alone," she said finally, her voice hoarse. "I want to feel nothing.”

She turned on her heel and left, leaving Lucius standing in the center of their shared room, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. She didn’t see it, though. She didn’t care.

As she closed the door behind her with a soft thud, the tears she had been holding back for so long finally began to fall.

For a long while, neither speaks when Aurelia returns to their quarters. The silence hangs heavily between them, filled with unspoken tension.

Aurelia shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her gaze lingering on the flickering shadows cast by the candles. The weight of the past days, weeks, —all the pain, loss, and uncertainty—has built up, and it seems to be consuming her from the inside out. She feels a mixture of anger, sorrow, and something she can’t quite name, simmering beneath her skin. 

Finally, Lucius turns away from the window, his blue eyes meeting hers in the dim light. His expression is more vulnerable than usual, lacking the usual deflection he so often carries in public.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” he observes, his tone soft, almost tentative.

Aurelia doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she raises the goblet to her lips and takes a small sip, as though she’s drinking in the silence between them. She lets the wine linger on her tongue before setting it down, eyes drifting back to Lucius.

“I’m just thinking,” she says quietly, but the words feel weighted with something more. “Of all that’s happened and how quickly everything changed. Just a few weeks ago, I belonged to another and now I find myself in the same position I was in when I first married Geta."

Lucius takes a step closer to her, his expression unreadable, but there’s a flicker of understanding in his gaze. “I know. It’s been a lot to take in. For both of us. You're not alone in feeling that."

Aurelia doesn’t look at him directly, but her voice cracks as she continues, her words edged with emotion. “I never asked for this, Lucius. I didn’t ask to be your wife. I didn’t ask for any of it—this empire, the bloodshed, the politics. I never wanted to be part of it. Ever, really. Not even when I married Geta.”

Lucius sits down beside her, his presence warm, though he maintains a careful distance. His voice is quiet, almost reverential. “I never asked for it, either. I never asked to be Emperor. I was just a man in Numidia before all of this — nothing more than a husband and a farmer. To Rome, maybe, I meant more than that but all I wanted was to survive. To live. I never wanted to come back to Rome after my mother sent me away all those years ago.”

Aurelia glances at him now, her lips pressing together in a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. “You were a gladiator.”

Lucius’s gaze lowers, his hands instinctively clenching into fists at his sides, though it’s a gesture that holds no anger—only quiet reflection. “I was. That was merely a fate thrust upon me when your late husband decided Numidia was his next conquest. I lost everything from that. My wife. My home. My way of life. My freedom. This city...this empire infects everything it touches.”

Aurelia’s eyes soften, though she hides it quickly behind the cool, stoic mask she’s perfected over the years. “I didn’t know. I thought you were just... a fighter. Someone who had made his way from nothing.”

“I was,” Lucius says, the words heavy with a strange sort of sadness. “But I wasn’t nothing. Clearly.”

Aurelia’s breath catches in her throat, and for the first time since their wedding, she sees a different side of him—a vulnerability that she hasn’t allowed herself to acknowledge until now. She knows pain, loss, and suffering, but she realizes, in that moment, that Lucius has borne a different kind of pain, one that has shaped him into the man he is now.

They weren't so different after all.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” she says softly, her voice carrying a weight of understanding she hasn’t let herself feel for him. “I... I understand more than you think. It’s hard to see ourselves as more than the roles we’ve been forced to play. Especially those roles that we’re just thrust into.”

Lucius looks at her with a hint of surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to say those words. He reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering near hers before he slowly, carefully places it on her arm. “I don’t want to be just the Emperor and I don’t want you to be just the Empress. Not if it means we lose ourselves in the process.”

Aurelia’s eyes flicker down to where his hand rests on her, feeling the warmth of it even through the layers of silk and the distance that still exists between them. For the first time since their forced marriage, she doesn’t feel suffocated by the weight of their titles.

But, she did feel like she had lost herself. She had lost herself years ago. 

“What do you want, Lucius?” she asks, the words raw, vulnerable.

Lucius exhales, almost as if the weight of his own question takes him by surprise. “I want to live, Aurelia. I want to live without the chains of the past, without the bloodshed and pain. I want a future. A real one. I want peace. Not just for duty.”

Aurelia’s heart trembles, her gaze dropping to her hands, twisting the fabric of her gown between her fingers. She wants to believe him, to believe that something good can come out of this union, but the scars of the past are too deep, too real.

“I don’t know how to love you,” she says, her voice so quiet it barely breaks the silence. “I don’t know how to open myself up to someone again or if I can."

Lucius’s hand gently tightens on her arm, as though to reassure her. “You don’t have to know. You don't even have to love me.”

For the first time in weeks, Aurelia feels something stir inside her—something long buried, something fragile. Hope. But she doesn’t voice it, not yet. She isn’t ready to trust it. Still, she allows herself to meet his gaze, to feel the weight of his words settle into her heart.

“I’m scared,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper. “Scared that I’ll lose myself in this again. That I’ll become nothing more than a puppet, like I always have.”

Lucius moves closer, his voice firm but gentle, his hand still resting on her arm. “You won’t lose yourself. Not with me. No one can take away who you are. Not even Rome. I won't let it and I have a feeling you won't either.”

The night becomes silent around them, but in that silence, Aurelia and Lucius find a brief connection—a shared understanding of their pain, their losses, and their tentative hope for something more. It’s a fragile bond, built on broken pasts and uncertain futures, but it is a start. 

And for the first time, it is enough. It’s a start.

The early morning sunlight filtered through the grand columns of the Imperial Palace, casting long shadows that stretched across the polished marble floors. The cool air of the morning was sharp and refreshing, but inside the palace, the atmosphere was anything but calm. Today marked the beginning of a new reign, the first day that Lucius Verus and Aurelia Carina Cassia would rule Rome together. For the first time, they would sit at the helm of the Empire, their fates inextricably intertwined.

Aurelia stood by the window, looking out at the sprawling city below. The rooftops of Rome seemed to stretch endlessly, a sea of terracotta and stone, the lifeblood of the Empire beating in every corner. She could hear the distant sounds of the city waking—chatter in the markets, the clatter of carts rolling through the streets, the calls of traders and merchants. Rome was alive, but to her, it felt like a distant memory of something she had once known and loved. Now, it was a weight—a reminder of everything she had lost and everything she had been forced to accept.

She had not slept much the night before. Her mind had been too busy, too full of thoughts of what today would bring. The delicate balance of power, the weight of expectations, and the new reality she found herself in. The wedding had been the first act in a play that she had never signed up for, but here she was. Empress. Wife to an Emperor she barely knew, a man who seemed to be as much of a stranger to her as the empire she was supposed to help govern.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and her heart jumped in her chest. She didn’t need to ask who it was.

"Come in," she said, her voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling inside her.

The door creaked open, and Lucius Verus stepped into the room, dressed in the formal attire of an Emperor—deep purple silks embroidered with gold, the insignia of Rome’s might adorning his chest. The crown, still unfamiliar to him, rested slightly askew on his dark hair, though his expression was as composed as ever. His piercing blue eyes, always intense, softened ever so slightly when he saw her.

"Good morning, Empress," he greeted, his voice low but carrying the authority of someone who had already begun to settle into his role.

Aurelia didn’t turn to face him immediately. Instead, she watched as the early sunlight bathed the city in gold, feeling the strange weight of the title she now bore. Empress. The word felt foreign, like a heavy cloak she had been forced to wear.

She turned slowly to look at him.

"Good morning," she replied, her tone cool, but not unkind. "I suppose we should begin."

Lucius didn’t flinch at her formality. He nodded and walked over to the large, intricately carved desk at the center of the room. It was already cluttered with scrolls, letters, and reports, a reminder of the many decisions they would have to make as rulers. He sat down in the large chair behind it, but his posture remained straight, confident. For all his stoic demeanor, there was something in his eyes—something hard to place—that suggested he was just as uncertain about the task ahead as she was.

Aurelia crossed the room toward the desk, feeling the heavy weight of her gown dragging against the floor. She could hear her footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room, each one a reminder that she was about to step into an unfamiliar role. An emperor's wife. An empress. One that actually had agency.

Lucius motioned to the seat beside him. "Shall we begin?"

Aurelia nodded, and for the first time since her marriage, she sat beside him as his equal. The room felt smaller now, the distance between them narrowed by the act of sitting at the same table. Yet, the space between them remained palpable—like a wall of stone that neither of them knew how to break down.

She looked over the reports in front of them: military dispatches from the front lines, letters from senators, petitions from merchants and provincial governors. Her fingers traced the edges of the scrolls, her mind already racing through the strategies and politics that lay beneath each document.

Lucius cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. "The Senate is eager to meet with us. They want to discuss reforms so it seems. They expect us to act swiftly. The Empire is teetering on the edge, and I can feel the currents shifting already."

Aurelia’s eyes narrowed slightly. She was well aware of the political landscape. The Senate’s power was fragile, and they would seek to undermine Lucius at any opportunity. She had seen that firsthand during her time as Geta’s wife, watching as Caracalla and Geta maneuvered for control. The Senate was always hungry for power, always eager to take what they could.

"And what do you intend to do about it?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with a challenge.

Lucius met her gaze without hesitation. "I will give them what they want—reforms, new laws, promises of greater influence but I will not let them forget who holds the real power."

Aurelia raised an eyebrow. "So, you’ll play their game?"

He gave a short, dry laugh. "It’s not about playing their game. It’s about making them believe they are winning, while I hold the reins. A man doesn’t rule the Empire by brute force alone. He rules by making others believe they have a stake in the game."

Aurelia considered his words, her eyes scanning the report in front of her, the list of senators who had already begun to align themselves with Lucius. She knew the intricacies of Roman politics, the quiet betrayals, the games of power. She had seen her husband Geta use similar tactics, though his were always tinged with cruelty.

"I understand," she said, her voice careful, measuring. "But we cannot let the Senate think they control the Empire. If they see us divided, if they see weakness between us, they will move to tear us apart. We need to go in with a united front"

Lucius looked at her for a long moment, as though weighing her words. Then he nodded, just once. "You’re right."

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds the rustling of parchment and the soft clicking of Aurelia’s nails against the scrolls. The weight of their shared responsibility pressed on them both, but neither of them spoke further. They were bound by more than the empire now—they were bound by the need to survive in this ruthless world, to keep the power they had gained, to outsmart the very forces that had driven them to this point.

Finally, Lucius stood, his hand brushing against the desk as he made his way to the window beside her. He gazed out over the city, his jaw tight with thought.

"Today will be the first of many battles," he said quietly, his voice distant as he looked over the sprawling city that would be his kingdom. “It’s like I’m still in the colosseum.” 

Aurelia stood as well, walking over to stand beside him. For a moment, they were both silent, watching the sun rise higher, casting light across the Roman skyline.

"The real battle," she said, her voice steady, "will be against the men who think they can rule us from the shadows and we will need to work with one another to defeat them. Trust me. These men are snakes."

Lucius turned to her, his blue eyes meeting hers, and for the briefest of moments, she saw something like understanding, perhaps even respect. Acknowledgment, if nothing else. He nodded.

"Then let’s begin, Empress," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "Together."

In that moment, Aurelia knew that, for better or worse, she had no choice but to stand with him. The Empire had already begun to test them, and it would not stop until it had broken them or forged something stronger. Today was only the first step.

The Senate chamber was thick with tension, the air charged with whispers and half-veiled glances as Aurelia and Lucius entered the hall. Their first official appearance in the Senate as the ruling couple of Rome had been long anticipated. Lucius walked with a quiet, measured authority, his posture straight and commanding, while Aurelia followed just behind him, her presence regal despite the undercurrent of unease that tugged at her.

The marble columns loomed overhead and the Senators were already seated in their appointed positions, awaiting their new emperors. The chamber was vast and imposing, the stone floor smooth beneath their feet, and the walls were adorned with the grand portraits of Rome’s past rulers—men who had commanded armies, crushed their enemies, and, above all, maintained control.

Lucius and Aurelia moved toward the elevated platform at the front of the room, where the Senate awaited them. The seats were a sea of faces, but Aurelia’s gaze immediately swept to the front row, where several of the most powerful senators sat. She recognized many of them—veterans of the political game, men who had supported Geta and Caracalla in the past, now cautiously observing Lucius and her. She could sense their skepticism in the way they watched her and Lucius.

They had barely taken their seats before the murmurs in the room began to quiet, and the leader of the Senate, a balding man named Felix, rose to his feet. His expression was one of courtesy, but his eyes flickered between the two of them with thinly veiled suspicion.

"Emperor Lucius, Empress Aurelia," he began, his voice carrying through the chamber, "the Senate welcomes you as our new rulers, the new faces of Rome’s glory." He paused, his eyes flicking toward Aurelia. "And we, as always, stand ready to serve you and the Empire."

Aurelia met his gaze, her expression steady but cool. She knew well how these men operated, how their smiles could be as sharp as daggers. The Senate had been a pit of intrigue long before she ever became Empress. Yet it was Lucius who was their true concern—he was the one who had fought and bled for his throne, and they would never forget his origins, his rise from slave to Emperor.

Felix's voice broke her thoughts. "However, there is a matter that weighs heavily on the hearts of some Senators—a matter we must address before any further dealings on the docket are discussed."

Aurelia’s stomach tightened. She could already feel where this was heading. She turned to Lucius, his face set in an impassive mask, but she could see the subtle clench of his jaw. Walls talked in Rome. Whatever was coming, he too knew it would not be easy.

Felix continued, his eyes flicking from Lucius to Aurelia. "It is common knowledge that the marriage between Emperor Lucius and Empress Aurelia was arranged swiftly and under... certain pressures, and while we commend your union, there is a question that remains unresolved. A question, I believe, the Senate must be given the answer to."

Lucius’s eyes narrowed. Aurelia could feel the heat of his gaze, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, she fixed her attention on the Senator, who was now speaking with an unsettling level of assurance.

"It is, of course, customary for the marriage to be consummated shortly after the vows are exchanged, ensuring the stability of the dynasty. And yet," Felix's gaze lingered on her pointedly, "it is no secret that, despite the wedding being weeks ago, we have seen no proof that the marriage has been consummated."

The room fell silent. Aurelia could feel every set of eyes on her, as if they were all waiting for her to react because they knew she would. She could feel her heart beat faster, her pulse rising in her throat. Lucius’s hand clenched at his side, but he said nothing, his face betraying no emotion. She could hear the rustle of robes, the shifting of chairs, the whispers beginning to rise.

"What are you implying?" Lucius’s voice broke through the silence, low and dangerous.

Senator Felix's eyes flicked toward him, unflinching. "Implying? I am stating a fact, Emperor. It is a matter of the Empire’s legitimacy. A claim to the throne is only as strong as the heirs that will follow. The people of Rome will not stand for an Emperor who is unable to—" He faltered for a moment but quickly regained his composure. "Who is unable to produce heirs. Your marriage, as it stands, remains incomplete, Emperor."

Aurelia’s stomach twisted into a knot. She knew where this was going. The question was no longer about Rome's future or its safety. It was a question about her—about her body, her role in this marriage. And it had been posed publicly, in front of men who would use any weakness to undermine her and Lucius. They were testing her, testing him. Testing their ability to govern together.

There was a long, heavy pause, broken only by the low murmur of Senators exchanging hushed words. Aurelia could feel their judgment, the way they looked at her as if she were some kind of animal on display. As if her body, her marriage, were nothing more than a political tool.

Even though it was.

She turned to face Lucius then, their eyes meeting, and for a brief moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes. Anger. Resentment. Perhaps even disgust. He was being tested, just as she was. The question wasn't really about consummation. It was about power, control, and whether they could be ruled or not.

With silent agreement between them, Aurelia decided to respond. She had learned a lot during her time as the Empress of Geta and she intended to use that knowledge to survive this test.

Aurelia stood slowly, her movements deliberate, her face a mask of composure. She took a step forward, toward the Senate floor and Lucius’s gaze followed her, sharp and protective as she moved through the sea of men.

"I am well aware of your concerns, Senator," she said, her voice carrying through the hall. The room quieted again, all attention on her. "I am aware of what you believe the Empire needs to be stable. Of what you believe it requires for legitimacy. But I will remind you, Senator Felix," she continued, her voice firm, "that the legitimacy of this Empire does not rest on a bedchamber or what indulgences two people take part in. It rests on the strength of its people, its soldiers, and its rulers. If you question the legitimacy of our Emperor, our marriage, or me, then you question the foundation of Rome itself. And well, that's treason. And Lucius and I will not hesitate to punish that treason.”

Her words were laced with authority, and for a moment, the murmurs in the chamber stilled. Even Felix seemed taken aback by her calm confidence. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest, her pulse steady but strong. She was the Empress Rome and she would not allow anyone to diminish her power or her role. Not anymore.

"If there is anyone in this room who doubts the strength of my marriage, then let them come forward," she added, her voice unwavering. "But know this: I will not be reduced to a pawn in your political games. Neither will Lucius."

A silence hung in the air as the weight of her words settled on the Senate. She stood tall, unwavering, feeling Lucius’s eyes on her now—warm, approving, but with a hint of something deeper. Perhaps something softer. Something unspoken.

After what seemed like an eternity, Felix took a step back, his expression changing from condescension to something more neutral, even respectful. "Of course, Empress," he said, though his tone had lost some of its bite. "We apologize for any offense caused. The Senate merely seeks to ensure the stability of the Empire."

Aurelia didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze to Lucius, who was watching her closely, the faintest hint of admiration in his eyes. And for a brief moment, in that chamber full of powerful men who had questioned her, she felt something she hadn’t before: power.

Her marriage to Lucius might have begun as a political arrangement, but she was no longer just playing a part. She was a force and she would not be swayed. Not by Felix. Not by anyone.

"We will continue to rule together," she said, turning to face the room once more, her voice strong. "And our union will be defined by more than just what you choose to see or want to see."

The silence that followed her words was heavy, thick with the unspoken understanding that had settled over the room. It was a quiet victory, but a victory nonetheless. Lucius, though silent, met her gaze with something she had never seen from him before—trust. And for the first time, Aurelia realized that they were no longer just two people bound by a marriage of convenience.

They were partners. And together, they would face whatever the Senate—or anyone else—threw their way.

The Senate had been quiet for hours since the meeting ended but the air in the palace was still  thick with tension. The Senate's audacious questioning of their marriage’s legitimacy, hung heavily between them. Though the formalities had concluded, the remnants of that public confrontation still lingered in the vast corridors of the palace.

Lucius and Aurelia walked side by side down the marble hall, their footsteps echoing softly in the otherwise silent space. The grandeur of the palace, with its towering columns and intricate mosaics, seemed almost oppressive now. Aurelia could feel the weight of every gaze she had met that day, from the skeptical Senators to the courtiers who had witnessed the display. Even though they were alone now, the silence between her and Lucius felt charged—awkward, but not entirely hostile.

Neither of them spoke immediately.

Aurelia had expected Lucius to be angry, perhaps to say something harsh, but there was only a brooding silence emanating from him. He walked slightly ahead of her, his broad shoulders tense, his hands clasped behind his back in that familiar stance he often took when troubled. She caught herself observing him, wondering what was going through his mind.

Finally, as they reached the grand doors of their private chambers, Lucius stopped. He turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers with a coolness that made her heart skip a beat. She could see the tension in his jaw, the tightness in his brow.

"You handled yourself well in there," Lucius said, his voice quiet but heavy with something she couldn’t quite place. "I wasn’t expecting you to stand up to Felix like that."

Aurelia’s lips parted, but she swallowed hard before speaking. "I had to," she replied. "It was either to show strength or let them walk all over me. I won’t let them undermine me, or you. Not like that. Learned that from Geta.”

Lucius studied her, his eyes softening just a fraction, as though seeing her in a new light. There had always been a layer of formality between them, a careful distance that neither had ever crossed. Today, though, something had shifted. Perhaps it was the way she had taken control, or maybe it was the rawness of her words, but Lucius felt... something. A flicker of admiration, or maybe even respect.

"I didn’t expect you to fight for me like that," he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant, as though the words were difficult to form. "Most people would’ve cowered when Felix pushed them."

“Felix was a nuisance even in my previous marriage.” Aurelia laughed softly, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "If I had cowered, I would have been handing over my dignity along with the throne. And you didn’t marry me for a submissive wife, Lucius.”

He exhaled, half a chuckle escaping his lips. "I don’t think anyone expected you to be submissive, Aurelia." His voice was low, warm with a hint of teasing but his gaze never wavered from hers.

Aurelia’s heart skipped at his words. She hadn’t expected them—certainly not from him. Lucius Verus had a reputation for being distant, for holding people at arm’s length. Yet here he was, speaking as if he saw her, not just the Empress but Aurelia, the woman behind the throne.

For a moment, they simply stood there in the corridor, the weight of his gaze settling around them like a delicate, fragile thing. Something had shifted between them, something that neither of them had anticipated.

Aurelia cleared her throat, feeling the sudden need to break the moment. "I didn’t want the Senate questioning my marriage." Her voice softened, and she took a step toward him, her eyes unwavering. "You weren’t the only one they were testing. They were testing me, too. As if I could be manipulated, like I’m some fragile woman who needs to be controlled."

Lucius didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched her closely, his eyes flickering between her face and the ground. Then, in a quiet voice, almost as though to himself, he said, "I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be like this. I never wanted you to feel like you were trapped."

Aurelia froze, a flutter of something unfamiliar stirring in her chest. His words, so genuine, took her by surprise. There had always been a sense of obligation between them—this marriage was as much his duty as hers—but hearing him speak as though he truly cared about her feelings, not just their political situation, was unexpected.

"You didn’t trap me, Lucius," she said softly, lifting her gaze to meet his. "I chose this. I chose you over death but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. I never imagined that the Senate would... do that. They made it feel like we were a joke."

He nodded slowly, his expression softening. "We’ll show them we’re not," he said, the promise in his voice clear. "Together."

She couldn’t help but smile at his words and for the first time since their marriage, she felt a flicker of something different—a sense of unity, of a shared purpose that went above the circumstances of their union. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there.

Aurelia let out a breath, then reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against his arm. "So," she said, her voice shifting to something lighter, almost teasing. "What now? Are we going to let them believe we’ve already failed before we’ve even begun?"

Lucius looked at her and this time, there was something playful in his eyes. He stepped closer, the air between them suddenly charged with something unspoken. He lowered his voice, almost a whisper. "I think we should remind them exactly who they’re dealing with."

She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. "And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

His gaze darkened, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in just slightly. "We show them what a real union looks like and that it’s stronger than anything they can throw at us."

Aurelia felt the shift then—the energy between them thickening, the space between their bodies suddenly feeling smaller. His words hung in the air, and for the first time, she realized they weren’t just playing games.

"Do you really think they’ll be intimidated by us?" she asked, her voice teasing, but a thread of something else lingered underneath—curiosity.

Lucius’s lips curled upward, and for the first time, the hardness in his expression softened. "I think we’ll make them respect us," he replied. His gaze dropped to her lips for a brief moment before lifting back to her eyes, a flicker of something warm and genuine there.

Aurelia’s heart fluttered, and the distance between them seemed to shrink even further. Without thinking, she stepped even closer, her hand resting lightly on his arm. The tension in the air was palpable now—thick with something neither of them could ignore.

Lucius paused, his breath catching in his throat for just a moment. He was aware of every inch of her now, of the way her presence filled the room, of how easy it would be to reach out and close the gap between them.

And before he could stop himself, he leaned in.

For a heartbeat, everything in the room went still, the world outside their little bubble vanishing. His lips brushed against hers, tentative at first, like a question—like an invitation.

The kiss was brief but loaded with a promise—of trust, of understanding, of something neither of them had ever expected from this.

But it was warm and uncalculating. It was something more than just duty.

When they pulled away, their foreheads pressed together, both of them breathing a little faster than usual.

Aurelia’s heart raced, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think we can make them respect us."

Lucius smiled, a soft, genuine smile this time, and nodded. "I think we already have."

The weight of the day’s events felt lighter now. What had started as a public challenge had become a moment of connection, a shared understanding between two people who had, until recently, barely known each other. The Senate’s doubts had only fueled a deeper resolve in both of them—together, they could face whatever Rome threw their way.

Aurelia truly believed it. 

She wouldn’t be alone anymore.

"Get some rest, my empress. There's still much work to be done," Lucius bids her goodbye, turning on his heel to go somewhere else.

But he wore a smile for the first time in a long time.

[brodygold]

Hey, there. My God-fearing girlfriend and her family (and mine) are all giving me migraines on end on why I should not get involved with you guys. But I think I wanna get involved and help start a Golden Army of swimmers wearing gold speedos and briefs. The only way for me to get my family on board is for... Ah, screw it, I'll come out and say it: can you please turn my controlling family, my obnoxious girlfriend, and her volatile and acrimonious family into the PERFECT speedo-wearing swim team and have me lead the team as well?! It would be the perfect Christmas present ever!

And Merry Christmas to you and your Golden Army! Will reblog! You'll know who I am when I do! Thanks a bunch!

Merry Christmas, bro! And to everyone else!

To be honest with you, bro, it sounds like it might be easier to just break up with your girlfriend. But I have heard love makes people do crazy things, so I can understand why you wouldn't want to. I know just what to do.

I teleported some special packages under their Christmas tree, wrapped in shiny gold paper and bows. As soon as one of them is opened, the speedo inside will launch itself at the target, becoming stuck on their body for a short while while the transformation takes place.

And what exactly is going to happen? I'm glad you asked!

For your girlfriend, let's just say he's more of your boyfriend now. There's no indication he was ever a woman to begin with, from head to toe. Sorry she's lost some of her more striking features if you know what I mean, but I think I more than made up for it downstairs. It can barely fit in the speedo!

Now I know what you're thinking. There's no way the others would open one of the gifts after that happens, and I agree. That's why the gifts are all set to open as soon as the first one does. Your girlfriend's family will never know what hit them!

And what hits them is pure transformation. I don't know what they look like to start, but just imagine it: chiseled abs, pillows for pecs, fully defined muscles in their arms and legs, a nice package down there, and a sporty haircut up top. The older folks will become much younger, still in their prime for swimming.

Let's talk about the mental changes too. Their minds will slow down slightly, their IQs dropping. Obviously they're all going to be into men now, whether they were before or not. Some of them I'll just make gay, but I'll also make some bisexual or pansexual, maybe an asexual too. We're all about diversity here in the Golden Army and embracing our true selves.

That's why they'll still be God-fearing, just not as extreme in their beliefs. They'll be much more liberal in their religion from now on. And they certainly won't have a problem with "sodomy" anymore!

I didn't forget about you of course, bro! I'll let you keep most of your thoughts and smartness, make your physical changes just a bit better to make you a true leader. Your "girlfriend" certainly will like the new you, bro.

I hope you enjoy your Christmas present from the Golden Army, bro. Practice starts at 6 am sharp tomorrow, and as swim team leader you better be there! We can worry about your family later. Just enjoy your new team for now!

[jrob64]

Drummer Boys, Reindeer and Romance

My Secret Santa gift for @mie779

Merry Christmas @mie779 - I'm your Secret Santa this year! I was very excited to get your name and I hope you like the story and pic set I created for you. I tried to work in some of your favorite things. Hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who took time out from a busy holiday season to beta for me.

With this story, I can cross off one square on my Winter Bingo Board. Stories in that collection can be found here

Story Summary: An empty seat at an elementary school Christmas pageant creates an opportunity for Killian Jones to meet Emma Swan. As they chat between songs, they feel drawn to each other, but Killian has to be brave enough to ask Emma out…and she has to be brave enough to accept. 

Rating: G

Words (Chapter 1/1): 5899

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

Stories in the CS Secret Santa 2024 collection can be found here

Story begins under the cut

*********

“Pardon me, lass. Is that seat taken?”

Emma Swan looked up from the program she had been scanning, to see a man standing in the aisle of the auditorium, looking at her expectantly.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you were saving the seat beside you for someone.”

She glanced at the empty seat to her left. “Uh, no. I’m not saving it for anyone.”

After an awkward pause, he asked, “In that case, would you mind if I sit there?”

“Oh, sorry.” She stood up, letting him pass in front of her.

When they were settled in their seats, he said, “Thanks very much.” Holding out his hand, he added, “Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she responded, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around Storybrooke before.”

“I live in Portland. I visit from time to time, and stay at my brother Liam’s house when I do. I’m here to watch his and Elsa’s daughters. They’re the two cutest reindeer.”

“Missy and Alice are your nieces? They’re in my son Henry’s class. In fact, I think he has a crush on one of them.”

“Which one?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. They both look alike to me.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “that’s quite common with identical twins.”

She laughed. “You have a point there.”

“Is your son also a reindeer?”

“I wish,” she sighed. “Reindeer are quiet. My son is the little drummer boy. My friend is the music teacher and I’m pretty sure she cast him in that role intentionallly. Her husband has been dying to buy Henry a drum set ever since he was a toddler, but I keep telling him absolutely not. Of course, once my son got the part, he had to practice, so Mary Margaret sent a snare drum home with him. I can hardly wait until this program is over, so I can get that freaking thing out of my house. I love my kid, but he’s driving me crazy with it!”

Killian’s grin stretched wider across his handsome face. “Well, I can assure you that reindeer are not quiet. At least, not in Alice and Missy’s case.”

“I’m sure having two ten-year-olds in the house can be very loud. I only have one and sometimes I swear he’s trying to split my eardrums.”

“With his drum,” Killian smirked.

“You’re hilarious,” Emma groaned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. However, she couldn’t help grinning a little at his attempt to make a joke.

“Are you, uh, are you sure I’m not taking…anyone’s seat?” he asked tentatively.

“If you’re talking about Henry’s father, he won’t be coming. He lives in New York City with his other family. Henry only gets to see him a couple of times a year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. The less time Henry spends with his dad, the smaller the chance Henry will act like him. After six years, he’s used to taking a back seat to Neal’s other kids.”

She opened the paper she was holding again, scanning the information typed inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Killian leaning in slightly to have a look at it, too.

“Didn’t they give you a program at the door?” she asked.

“They were out by the time I got here. I left work as soon as I could, but barely made it. Liam and Elsa weren’t expecting me to come tonight, so they didn’t save a seat for me.”

Emma swiped across her phone to look at the time. “They’re getting started a few minutes late. That’s typical for Mary Margaret because she wants everything to be perfect. She’s probably still gluing cotton balls onto Santa’s beard.” Scooting over in her seat a couple of inches, she held the program between them. “I’ll share with you. Looks like Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer is the next-to-last song.”

Killian perused the offered page. “Your drummer boy looks to be the star of the third song.”

“Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum,” she intoned. He chuckled.

The lights dimmed and Mary Margaret hurried onto the stage as the crowd applauded.

“Show time,” Emma commented, then straightened in her seat to listen as her friend welcomed everyone.

*********

Killian shifted in the cushioned chair and tried to focus on what the lovely, pixie-haired teacher was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pay attention; rather, it was the distraction of the beautiful woman to his right which was occupying his mind. Through no fault of her own, she was making it very difficult for him to concentrate on the acknowledgements of all of the people responsible for helping with the elementary school Christmas pageant.

When she looked up at him after he inquired about the empty seat beside her, he was instantly struck by her beauty. It had been a long time since he gave any woman a second glance. Having his heart broken three years before caused him to swear off of women for good, and he stuck to it.

He may have to rethink that.

Being intrigued by her looks was one thing, but when she began conversing with him, he was struck by how easy it was to talk to her. She was witty and sarcastic, and put him at ease immediately.

When he verified that he wasn’t taking anyone’s seat, it was also his subtle way of asking if she was in a relationship. He had discreetly checked her ring finger and saw it was bare, but wanted further assurance. He was probably assuming too much by thinking her answer about her ex was proof she was indeed single, because she could be dating someone else. But if she was, that man would surely show up to her son’s Christmas pageant, wouldn’t he?

As crazy as it sounded, after knowing her for all of five minutes, Killian was seriously thinking of asking her out.

*********

Emma could feel the nearness of the man beside her and, shockingly enough, she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she actually found herself leaning toward him.

Her friend Elsa mentioned her brother-in-law to Emma several times, but she had never met him or seen a picture of him. If she had, she definitely would have remembered, because the man was ridiculously handsome. She probably seemed like an idiot when he asked about the empty seat beside her and she didn’t tell him he could sit there right away. She was simply gobsmacked when she looked up at him and had trouble getting her mind to work.

Fortunately, once he sat down, words were easier and the conversation she had with him was very enjoyable. She found herself wishing he had gotten there sooner, so they could have had more time to chat before the pageant began. It had been quite a while since she actually wanted more time to talk to a man. Usually, she wanted them to shut up and leave her alone.

Finding someone to date in Storybrooke was not an easy feat. Not that she put much effort into it. After what she went through with Neal, she swore off dating altogether. He not only broke her heart by leaving her for another woman, he told her he never loved her in the first place and the only reason he stayed with her as long as he did was because she was careless enough to get pregnant. He didn’t seem to realize that he had a little something to do with her ending up in that condition, too. She didn’t regret it, though. Henry was the best thing that ever happened to her. She had been telling herself for years that she loved her kid and he was the only male she needed in her life.

How absurd was it for her to want a chance to get better acquainted with Killian Jones so soon after meeting him?

*********

Killian’s whirlpool of thoughts was interrupted when music began playing and the third and fourth grade students trooped onto the stage to stand on the risers, all of them dressed in homemade costumes for their various roles.

Leaning over, he quietly asked, “Which one is Henry?”

Emma pointed. “The one with the jeans chopped off at the knees, white shirt and a vest made out of a cut up paper bag. Real professional, huh? He reminded me last night that he needed a costume, so it’s the best I could do.”

“I think it’s very effective. He’s supposed to be a poor boy, right?”

They fell silent when a little girl dressed as Mrs. Claus stepped to the microphone to introduce the first song. As Killian tried to lay his elbow on the arm rest, he bumped Emma’s, which was already there.

“Sorry, Love,” he whispered, tucking his arm against his side.

“We can share,” she whispered back, scooting her arm over to give him some room. Under normal circumstances, he would have passed on the offer, but he quite liked how it felt to touch her. Once their elbows were both on the arm rest, he turned his attention back to the stage, where the students dressed as elves were lining up to lead the song Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas, while Mary Margaret was taking her seat behind the piano.

“You were right,” Emma muttered. “Your nieces are the cutest reindeer.”

“Of course they are. They take after their uncle,” he cheeked.

Mary Margaret launched into the accompaniment before Emma could reply.

Frosty the Snowman followed, with students dressed as snow people spinning and dancing on the stage. One snowman twirled himself dizzy and almost fell off of the stage. Luckily, David was quick on his feet, catching the little boy and preventing disaster.

“I can guarantee I’ll hear about what a hero he was for days from Mary Margaret,” Emma remarked as they clapped at the end of the song.

“Your boy is up next,” Killian reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, scrambling to pull her phone out of her purse.

“Would you like me to take the video so you can sit back and enjoy his performance?”

She looked at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. It would be my pleasure.”

Emma quickly unlocked her phone, pulled up the camera app and set it to video. “You know how to do this, right?”

He chuckled as he took it from her hands. “Don’t worry, Swan. I’m a twenty-first century man, so I do know a fair amount about technology.”

Henry took his place behind the snare drum and smiled widely at his mom. However, once the song started, he was all business, taking his drum solo very seriously. After filming the entire group of students during the first verse, Killian zoomed in on Henry for the rest of the song, capturing his solemn expression as he struck the drum in perfect rhythm.

At the conclusion of the song, Killian turned the phone toward Emma, who was clapping loudly and shouting, “Way to go, kid!” Through the lens, Killian could see the sheen of proud tears in her eyes. He didn’t stop filming until she turned to him to get her device back.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad I could enjoy it without having to watch him through my phone screen.”

“No problem,” he assured her. “He did a wonderful job. He just might have a future as a drummer in a band.”

“I hope he’s out on his own by then if he does. I don’t think I could handle all of the practicing.”

Killian chuckled and settled back in his seat to enjoy the next two songs. When it was time for the reindeer to take their place at the front of the stage, he dug his own phone out of the front pocket of his jeans.

“Here, I’ll return the favor,” Emma said, reaching for the phone. “Enjoy your nieces’ performance.”

“Thanks, Love,” he said gratefully.

The song went well until one of the twins accidentally stepped on the other one’s foot, who then pushed the unwitting culprit. A short shoving match ensued between the two of them, until Mary Margaret snapped her fingers at them with one hand, while continuing to play the piano with the other.

Killian scanned the crowd to find his brother and sister-in-law. Liam was trying, and failing, to keep a grin off of his face, while Elsa scowled ferociously at her rowdy daughters.

The rest of the song went on without further incident. When Emma handed his phone back, Killian remarked, “I think the girls might be in for it after this is over.”

“Yeah, Elsa looks pretty peeved.”

“Do you know her?”

“We got to know each other through the PTO, and we’ve become pretty good friends.”

“PTO?” he questioned.

“Parent-teacher organization. We do fundraisers to give the school and staff extra things the district doesn’t provide. We also sponsor fun events for students and their parents, like skating parties and bingo nights.”

“It sounds very beneficial,” Killian commented.

Mary Margaret announced that the final song was Silent Night and after the students sang it through once, the audience was encouraged to join in.

The children, who had just sung Rudolph loudly and exuberantly, now sang the beloved carol with great reverence. A hush fell over the crowd as they listened to the sweet voices. Killian turned his eyes toward Emma and saw her swallow hard, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. He was a little emotional himself and he didn’t even have a child on the stage.

Killian added his rich baritone the second time through. He could hear Emma’s voice and wasn’t at all surprised that it was as lovely as the lady herself.

As the final notes faded away, she turned to look at him. He smiled and winked, beginning to clap with the rest of the audience. When the ovation was over, she quickly collected her coat and purse. “I have to go get Henry from his classroom. I…it was nice meeting you, Killian. Maybe we’ll see each other the next time you come to town.”

He looked stunned. “Aye, Swan, perhaps we will.”

With a final wave, she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

*********

As he watched her walk away, Killian felt like kicking himself. He just let her go, without asking her out or even requesting her phone number. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection between the two of them, but now it was too late to act on it.

She did say she was Elsa’s friend, so perhaps he could get Emma’s information from his sister-in-law. That was less than ideal, but it might be his only option.

He sighed, grabbed his coat from the chair and set off to locate his family.

*********

Emma hated leaving the way she did, but she knew Henry would be waiting for her. Telling her son how proud she was of him, trumped hanging around to talk to Killian some more. She truly hoped she would run into him again, sometime.

She wished she would have been bold enough to ask him for his phone number. Of course, she could always get it from Elsa, but that would mean telling her friend she was interested in her brother-in-law. Emma didn’t really want to open that can of worms.

So as she fought her way through the crowd, disappointment rose up within her because she knew she was leaving behind the first guy who drew her interest in a very long time.

*********

“Where’s Elsa?” Killian asked, once he found Liam still occupying the seat he sat in during the performance.

“She went to get the girls. I offered, but she insisted. She may knock their heads together after their antics on stage.”

Killian laughed. “Never a dull moment with those two, is there?”

“Not a single one. Thanks for coming, brother,” Liam said, standing up to clap Killian on the shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I told Missy and Alice I would try to make it and I didn’t want to let them down.”

“You’re a good uncle.”

“The best,” Killian smirked. Then his face took on a serious expression. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Uh…how well do you know…Emma Swan?”

Liam’s brows raised. “She and Elsa are good friends, so I know her pretty well. Why do you ask?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I, um…I sat beside her this evening. I never met her before, but I…she…she seems very nice.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Are you interested in her?” he queried.

His brother shrugged. “I just…we had a good conversation and I thought about…”

When he didn’t continue, Liam supplied, “Asking her out?”

Killian shrugged again. “I know. It’s a stupid idea. I mean, I just met her and we only talked for a few minutes, but…”

Liam stepped in front of him, placing both hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Killian, I know you had a rough go of it with Milah, but you can’t go through life never taking a chance again.”

“Emma probably wouldn’t accept…”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. She went to collect her son and then they’ll leave.”

“Then we’ll go find her before they do.”

“Liam…”

“Killian, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Killian considered his brother’s words for a few seconds. “You’re right. Let’s go see if she’s still here.”

The pair took off through the nearly empty auditorium. Liam led Killian down one hallway, then nearly ran into Elsa and the girls when they turned the corner.

“There are my lovely ladies,” Liam said, kissing first one of his daughters on the head, then the other. “Good job, my little reindeer.” Seeing the stern look Elsa was giving him, he added, “But perhaps next time you shouldn’t stand right next to each other.”

“It was Missy’s fault,” Alice began, before being cut off by her mother.

“I’ve already talked to you about this,” Elsa reprimanded. “You were both at fault and tomorrow, you will both apologize to Mrs. Nolan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused. Then they rushed to get a hug from their uncle.

“You came!” Alice cried.

“Told you he would,” Missy said. “Uncle Killy would never let us down, would you?”

“I can’t promise that I never will, but I’ll try my very best not to,” he assured them, one arm wrapped around each twin.

Liam pulled Elsa aside. “Did you see Emma?” he asked.

“Yes, she was picking up Henry at the same time I was getting the girls,” his wife answered. “Why?”

Lowering his voice so their daughters wouldn’t hear, he said, “Killian sat beside her during the performance and they seemed to hit it off. He was hoping to catch her before she left and ask her out.”

Elsa’s expression went from very excited to downcast. “I’m afraid they’re gone already.”

Killian caught what she said and his heart sank. He knew he missed his chance when he let her walk away.

Elsa saw the look on her brother-in-law’s face. “Girls, hug your uncle and tell him goodbye. I’m sure he needs to start back to Portland soon.”

Missy and Alice took turns getting big bear hugs from Killian, then Liam bid him goodbye and took the girls to the car, clearly aware that his wife wanted to talk to his brother alone.

Killian gave Elsa a questioning look. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“Do you think Emma was attracted to you?”

He shrugged slightly. “I can’t say for sure, but we talked quite a bit and she seemed to like me.”

“The fact that she enjoyed talking to you leads me to believe she does. I love Emma, but she can be a bit prickly. I think you should ask her out.”

“Did you miss the part when you said she already left?”

“I’m going to give you her address, smart guy. Then you can go to her house.”

“Perhaps you should just give me her phone number instead.”

“You will not ask her out over the phone,” Elsa commanded. “That’s too impersonal.”

Killian nodded. “I see your point.” Pulling out his phone, he brought up Google Maps and typed in the address Elsa read from her contacts list. “It’s only a five minute drive.”

“Yes it is, which gives you less time to change your mind.” She gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Now get going. Call us when you’re on the way home and let us know what happened.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting smartly. When she rolled her eyes at him, he grew serious. “Thank you, Elsa.”

“You’re welcome. Now go turn on your charm.”

*********

Ten minutes later, Killian pulled up in front of the small, unassuming house where the GPS led him. After cutting the engine, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not he should go through with his plan.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Liam: Remember what I told you. Don’t lose your nerve.

Killian shook his head and snorted out a laugh. Sometimes it was almost scary how well his brother knew him.

“The worst that can happen is she turns me down. I can survive that, right?” he muttered to himself. “Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt, threw open his car door and climbed out. Then he walked up the short sidewalk, lined with lighted plastic candy canes. After knocking on the front door, he nervously brushed one hand through his hair, then tugged at the bottom of his black leather jacket.

The door swung open and he found himself looking down at the little drummer boy, still dressed in his cut off jeans and white shirt, sans the paper bag vest. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then Henry turned and yelled, “Mom! Some guy is here!”

“Henry, what have I told you about answering the…” Emma’s words cut off suddenly when she came into view. “Killian?” she questioned disbelievingly.

“Uh, hi. I, um…I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he stammered.

She looked flabbergasted. “How did you know where I live?”

“Elsa gave me your address. I hope that was okay.”

Henry looked back and forth between the two adults. “Do you mean Mrs. Jones? Alice’s mom?”

“And Missy’s,” Emma added distractedly.

“How do you know Mrs. Jones?” Henry asked.

“Killian’s brother Liam is Elsa’s husband,” Emma explained. “Henry, please go turn the burner off under the hot cocoa so it won’t burn.”

“If it’s ready, can I pour some…”

“Absolutely not. Do not touch the pan or anything else; just the knob for the burner.”

“But I…”

She put her arm around his shoulders. “After you turn off the stove, why don’t you go ahead and put your pajamas on. Just give me a couple of minutes to speak to Mr. Jones, okay?”

“You did a fine job on your drum solo tonight, lad,” Killian said.

Henry’s face brightened. “Do ya really think so?”

“Aye. You were the star of the show.”

A wide grin split the boy’s face. “Thanks! I practiced a lot!”

“Your mother told me you did. Practice makes perfect, they say.”

“I guess so. We can be in band next year and I want to play percussion.”

Killian snuck a glance at Emma, who closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. With difficulty, he kept from laughing, before answering, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

“At least one of us will,” Emma mumbled, before reminding Henry about turning off the stove.

“Bye, Mr. Jones. Merry Christmas!” Henry shouted on his way out of the room.

“Merry Christmas to you, lad.”

“So, um, not to sound rude, but why are you here?” Emma asked as soon as they were alone.

He tried not to fidget as he thought of what to say. “I…I really enjoyed talking to you this evening.”

“I enjoyed talking to you, too.”

Encouraged, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s good to hear. So, I was wondering if…if you would consider going out with me.”

“On a date?” she asked, brows shooting up.

“Aye, that’s the idea.”

“I can’t…”

Killian felt his stomach drop.

“...even remember the last time I went on a date.”

“Perhaps we should remedy that,” he suggested hopefully.

Emma pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in contemplation. “I don’t know…”

“Go out with him, Mom!” Henry yelled from the kitchen.

“Really, kid?” Emma said, clearly exasperated.

Henry poked his head around the door frame. “I like him.”

“Weren’t you told to put your pajamas on?”

“I will. I just accidentally heard what Mr. Jones said.”

Emma crossed her arms and gave him a patented ‘mom look’. “Accidentally, huh?”

He shrugged. “I have good hearing.”

“Only when you want to have it,” she stated. “Now, go do as you were told.”

“Okay,” he sighed, trudging down the hallway to his room.

She turned back to Killian, dropping her arms to her sides. “Looks like you have my kid’s approval.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “What about you, Emma? Do I have your approval, too? Elsa said she would be happy to watch Henry for you if we go out.”

She hesitated, then lifted her chin decisively. “Yes, Killian. I would love to go out with you.”

*********

One year later…

Killian followed Emma down the aisle of the auditorium and grinned when he realized what seats she chose. After sitting down, he draped his arm around her shoulders and leaned over to murmur in her ear, “These seats seem familiar, Love.”

She snuggled against his side. “They’re very special, because this is where I met the love of my life.”

“What a coincidence,” he teased. “This is where I met mine, too.”

Elsa and Liam slid into the seats in front of them. “Hello, lovebirds,” Elsa grinned.

“Don’t encourage them,” Liam cautioned. “I already have to witness far too much PDA from those two.”

“You don’t have to watch, you know,” Killian said, lightly whacking the back of Liam’s head.

“Both of you behave,” Elsa said, as Emma giggled.

“Speaking of behaving,” Killian began, “do you think your daughters will make it through the concert without assaulting each other this year?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Liam said. “I caught Missy trying to hit her sister over the head with her flute the other day.”

“Be happy it wasn’t the other way around,” Emma commented. “Alice could do some serious damage with her saxophone.”

They were still laughing when the fifth grade band shuffled onto the stage in all their Christmas finery, instruments held proudly in front of them. Emma and Killian immediately spotted Henry taking his place behind the snare drum. He smiled and gave them a quick wave before picking up his drumsticks.

“He looks so grown up,” Emma said quietly.

“Your little drummer boy isn’t very little anymore,” Killian observed fondly. He and Henry had a very close relationship and he loved the boy as his own.

“A lot has changed in the past year,” she sighed happily.

“Aye, Love. It’s been phenomenal in every way.”

Mary Margaret, who also instructed the fifth grade band along with teaching elementary music, walked out onto the stage, preparing to introduce their first song.

Emma settled against Killian’s side to enjoy the concert. A year ago, sitting in these very seats, neither of them could ever have imagined what that first meeting would mean to them.

As the band began playing Jingle Bells, Killian pulled Emma a little closer. His chest swelled with pride watching Henry concentrating on his music, as he beat out the rhythm on the drum. This year, Emma hadn’t had to endure his incessant practicing alone, since Killian moved in with them just before Thanksgiving.

Emma saw Killian glancing at his watch once the third and final song ended. “Are you anxious to leave? You know we still have to sit through the sixth grade and junior high bands, don’t you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m aware. I was just trying to gauge what time it will be over.”

“I’d say the concert will last about an hour,” Liam threw over his shoulder.

Killian slumped a bit in his chair. Then he caught sight of Henry, who was sitting in a reserved section to their right with the rest of the fifth grade band. The boy beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. Killian winked and returned his smile.

Last year, the evening of Henry’s concert ended with Killian asking Emma out on their first date. This year, he had a different question to ask when they got home, one for which Henry had already given his approval.

He hoped her answer would be the same as last year. If so, they would be sitting in these seats next year as husband and wife.

Kissing her temple, Killian impatiently waited for the sixth grade band to begin playing. He intertwined their fingers, imagining how her hand would look with the diamond engagement ring on it. When she turned her face up to look at him, love shining in her eyes, he knew the beauty of the diamond would pale in comparison to the lady wearing it.

*********

Liam’s estimate for the length of the concert was right on the nose. When they finally walked out of the auditorium, light snow was falling. The conversation in the car on the way home was warm and playful. Henry laughed about the sixth grade percussionist who dropped one of the cymbals in the middle of a song, and expressed his hope that when he got older, he would be the one to make the whip sound for Sleigh Ride.

“Lord, help us through seven more years of band,” Emma murmured under her breath, causing Killian to laugh, despite the nerves that were knotting his stomach.

As soon as they got home, Henry went into the kitchen to get the ingredients out for hot cocoa, dubbing it a tradition after the Christmas concert.

“Is it a tradition if this is only the second time we did it?” Emma asked.

“I don’t know,” Killian answered, “but I do know of another tradition that’s been around much longer.” He pointed at the top of the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

“When did you put mistletoe up there?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“This evening while you were getting dressed for the concert.”

“You’re very sneaky,” she said, leaning in until her lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his.

“And you love me for it,” he grinned.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed before kissing him.

“Pre-teen boy coming through,” Henry announced, squeezing past them. “I’m going to put my pajamas on. Please be done making out by the time I get back.”

Emma and Killian laughed into their kiss. “I think we’re scarring him for life,” he quipped.

“That’s what parents are for,” she replied.

Killian pulled back to look at her. “You consider me to be his parent?”

“You’re more of a father to him than Neal has ever been.”

He surged forward to kiss her again. When it finally ended, he asked, “Do you think Henry regards me that way, too?”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Does what?” Henry asked, re-entering the room, now dressed in plaid Christmas pajamas.

“Do you think of Killian as one of your parents?” Emma asked.

“Well, duh,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Can we make hot chocolate now?”

Emma tried to give Killian a look that said I told you so, but he was gazing at Henry with a sense of wonder over the boy’s declaration.

Once the cocoa was gone and Henry was off to bed, Killian and Emma lay together on the sofa. The living room was lit only by the gas fireplace and the lights from the Christmas tree, while Christmas music played softly.

“This is nice,” she sighed.

He hummed in agreement, stroking his hand up and down her back. His thoughts were preoccupied with the perfect way to propose, so he almost missed what she said next.

“Marry me, Killian.”

His hand on her back stilled as his mind registered what she just said. “Wh-what?”

She pushed up on her elbows to look into his face. “Marry me.”

“Swan, you’re depriving me of a dashing proposal!” he protested.

She cocked her head, studying him. “Are you serious?”

He slid out from under her to kneel on the floor in front of the couch, reaching into the pocket of his sleep pants to retrieve the ring and holding it up for her to see.

Her eyes widened as she swung her feet down to the floor. “Oh. My. God. You really were going to propose, weren’t you?”

“Aye.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Since you asked me first, I’m pretty sure I know what your answer is going to be,” he chuckled.

“You still have to ask. That’s the rule.”

“Whose rule?”

“Mine. Now, let’s hear that dashing proposal.”

He grinned, then cleared his throat. “Emma, you and Henry have changed my life in every way possible. I never knew happiness like this even existed, let alone that it would happen to me. There aren’t enough words in this world to express how much I love you, but right now, there’s only one word I need to hear in response to this question - Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes when she opened her mouth to answer, but emotion clogged her throat, so she nodded emphatically and threw her arms around him. As he held her tight, kissing her and murmuring words of love, she finally found her voice. “Yes, Killian, I will marry you! I love you so much!”

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “Henry and I are very lucky to have you in our lives. I know I’m speaking for him too when I say we want you to be part of our family forever.” Framing his face with her hands, she leaned in to kiss him again.

“Do you want the ring?” he asked against her lips.

She giggled and sat back, extending her left hand to him. He slid the ring into place and kissed her knuckle above it.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

“You are perfect, my love.”

“Says the man who complains when I leave wet towels on the floor,” she teased.

“Well…nearly perfect,” he grinned.

She held her hand up to admire the ring, the lights of the Christmas tree making the diamond glitter. “We’re engaged,” she said, awestruck.

“Mmhmm. Who would have thought that a little drummer boy and two feuding reindeer would bring us together and give us a happy ending?”

Her eyes met his, laughter and love dancing in them. “Best night of my life, hands down. Until today,” she amended.

Kissing the tip of her nose, he whispered, “Happy Christmas, wife-to-be.”

“Merry Christmas, husband-to-be.”

He stood up and took her hand to help her to her feet. Then they went to their bedroom to share the best gift of all - the love they had for each other.

*********

My heartfelt wishes for all of you to have a blessed and memorable Christmas!

Tagging:

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[ultimateloserboy]

GIANT FLUFFYBIRD POST

@onlyballs i saw in my phone notifs you sent me an ask but tumblr isnt showing it. HOWEVER. I believe you asked for fluffybird, and of course I will deliver!

i suggest searching the fluffybird tag on my blog if u want more thoughts. because i have said a LOT of stuff. but of course ill always talk about my guys!

BUCKLE UP BROTHER ITS A LONG WAY TO THE BOTTOM!!!!

to kick things off let me explain their characters and relationship. duck sees red as his absolute best friend, the one person in the world he truly gets along with. he loves red very proudly and openly. when it comes to the world and its horrors, duck doesnt much remember but also doesnt quite care. why would he? he has his best friend right there with him! he also loves yellow very blatantly even if he doesnt show it properly. theyre his family, and this is his house, so why would he want to change things or leave? even when hes aware of the pain that he (especially) experiences— he STILL doesnt want to leave— because as his bigger boy self says “this is as good as it gets!”

red sees things completely differently. red obviously does care for duck, but the majority of the time he will deny it. even at ducks FUNERAL red denies caring for him. red is so obsessed with coming off as the calm and collected one he ends up making himself look apathetic to the point of cruelty. duck can also be very cruel, but hes very blatant about the people he loves whereas red will deny ever loving anything. duck isnt afraid of love, but red very much is.

when it comes to the world, red remembers a bit more than duck does. yellow actually seems to remember things too, but his batteries keep his thoughts fogged so he cant properly articulate them. red can remember AND articulate things from past episodes. its not perfect, and he absolutely doesnt understand whats going on— but he DOES remember— and unlike duck, he actually HATES it. theres an argument to be made here that duck doesnt remember because he simply doesnt care to. duck doesnt care so he doesnt remember, while red cares A LOT so he remembers more. but i digress.

red wants to get out of the torture of the house, but truthfully he wants to be a different person altogether. he wants a new life not just because this one sucks— but also because he dislikes himself. he just wants something different. hes restless. even if the house was perfectly safe hed most likely still be running. he’s desperate to find a place that feels like home— but until he accepts his own differences he wont be comfortable anywhere. he refuses love from anyone that isnt his perfect made-up family because duck and yellow are “weird” and if he accepts their love that makes him weird as well, which he fights to not be.

if you really look at red, he doesnt actually want to be loved. he wants to be someone else and have everyone love that guy. but it just doesnt work that way.

duck loves red as he is now. or as he was yesterday, and who he’ll be tomorrow. it comes naturally to duck— he doesnt remember meeting red or developing a relationship with him because he never had to. he was put into the world already prepared to love red. its what he was designed to do. the three of them were designed to be a family, and duck is happy to comply with that script. although he doesnt see it as a script and sees it as his own choice to love them— which isnt technically wrong! i feel the house doesnt give them feelings— only puts them in a situation. so while they have no choice but to live together forever— its their choice to enjoy that life. duck chooses to.

red isnt happy to comply with a script at all, but he was also designed to live with duck and has his entire existence. theres a point at the funeral where red slips up. he refers to the plates on the ground as “our plates” while arguing that he doesnt know duck at all. theres an intimacy in sharing everything down to plates. they also share a room and bathe together (shown MULTIPLE times!) so no matter how much red denies it— he is extremely close to duck. he has no choice but to be. i feel thats one reason why he denies it so much— because he sees it as forced, and he doesnt want that. but i think duck would choose him anyway even if they werent forced to live together and thats why it works.

duck doesnt see it as forced because hed love red no matter the situation. no matter if they were chained to each other or free to go— duck would stay right there. but red wants that freedom. so he presents himself as if he dislikes or doesnt know duck to give himself the illusion of freedom from their shared cage. he doesnt think hed miss duck fully if he was gone. he even gets excited at the idea of living apart in transport.

but its all denial. because he would also choose duck if they werent stuck together! when theyre in the dark and red cant see him— he realizes he WANTS to look at duck. he WANTS to talk to him. he would CHOOSE to do so if he wasnt forced, and he HAS chosen to do so throughout the entire show, whether or not hes realized it. red gets more comfortable at the idea of spending time together because, yes, they are technically forced to share the house. but it doesn’t have to be that way! not in their hearts. not in their minds. thats the way duck sees it, anyway.

they might not always agree on things, but when they do it sometimes devolves into something terrible. There is a point where red guy gives up. he starts to give into the lessons because its easy. because sometimes he DOES enjoy them. sometimes hes just too tired and falls into the pattern he hates because its simple to do so. and maybe after years of being beaten down into submission he starts to agree with duck and see no hope of escape. thats when, at least from how i see it— they evolve into bigger boys.

its not shown how the boys get bigger but its obviously a progression. a slow ascent into madness. i think it starts with them becoming hopeless, and then finding hope in the lessons. theres nothing else to latch on to— so they latch onto them with everything they can. they learn everything they possibly can. they grow and grow and get higher and higher until theyre dangerous. until theyre more self-centered and cruel than theyve ever been. eventually they become too knowledgeable to be taught anything. they become a part of the house rather than occupants of it. soon theyre pulling the strings and torturing smaller creatures for their own enrichment. it gives them a sense of power over themselves knowing once they were in that creatures place. they finally feel in control of their lives but at what cost?

all of this is done with them completely glued to the others hip. despite getting more self-centered they just cant let go of each other. theyre tangled together like weeds. they love each other and they cant let that go— but they cant admit that or indulge in proper companionship because thats vulnerable, and theyre too BIG now to be vulnerable! so they sit across the room. never quite separate but never quite together. its better to be 10 feet apart and never look at each other than to be without each other. loneliness was always their greatest enemy and even while being trapped in close proximity forever they cant seem to escape it.

but there is a smaller version of them, a small moment in time where theyre happy together. where they can sit and have a conversation without fear of judgement. theres no stage-lights on them and the darkness hides their shame. they can actually tell each other how they enjoy the others company. they can be honest and vulnerable.

to duck its normal to tell red he appreciates him (in his own way) but for red to say so is shocking. duck is surprised. but hes happy. and they can spend time together being completely honest and loving each other without it being a big deal at all. without any worry. but those are the moments that always go first. the moments in their memory that deteriorate the quickest. maybe if that moment lasted— maybe if their walls were broken for long enough— they couldve started to get better. they couldve grown to be kinder. they couldve grown to be happy together. but they never have the chance to keep it long enough.

they live everyday as close housemates. they slip into a domestic life that comes naturally to them even when they may not realize. but when they actually start to think. as soon as a song comes on its so much more than that. and neither of them really want it to be— or they do but they dont know in what way or how. they dont know how to explain things to each other. they dont REMEMBER enough to discuss it. so it festers until it ruins them. every single time

tldr fluffybird is like this:

i cant keep reliving the same day every day. I cant bear to forget it all again. even when im too tired to fight ill still have the belief deep inside of me that theres somewhere out there better than this. that theres a version of me out there better than the one i am. i hope to find it some day and i hope to have you with me. i wish i could leave without you but im too much of a coward. This cant be all there is and i will prove it to you someday.

im fine reliving everything as long as its with you, exactly as you are. as long as youre willing to listen when i repeat myself. this IS all there is and im alright with that. an organ or two is a small price to pay to live forever with my family. youre ungrateful for wanting to run, think of all weve done together! but i know you will anyway. so ill be waiting to say “i told you so!” and then we’ll walk home. it might tear us apart but its still our home. this is as good as it gets.

RANDOM FUN FACT AND FAVORITE SCENE TIME!!!!

easy one first— RED is ducks favorite color! which is made even more fruity with the context that duck enjoys specifically LOOKING at red guy!

red and duck have matching pillows! theres two green pillows that you can see in the living room. sometimes theyre together on reds chair and other times theyre split between his and ducks chairs! theyre also in the webseries on their beds— but ONLY on theirs! yellow doesnt have one of these. at least i dont remember so. might be wrong but from what i can tell these pillows are always for duck and red only. at least most of the time if yellow does ever have one!

there are multiple pieces of concept art of 1: them being silly and 2: them being closer than in the final scenes. the original concept for the big boys shows them sitting MUCH closer and their arms intertwined, whereas in the final shot theyre not touching each other at all and duck is moved completely across the room (they are fucking ginormous irl tho to be fair)

some of my favorite pieces of concept art tho are this little selfie of duck and red with his little peace sign and their arms wrapped around each other in front of a mountain <333 AND THEN DUCK DOING REDS HAIR :DD

one of my favorite scenes of them is in jobs when red is rambling about his lanyard and duck says “what have they done to you?” it sounds so genuine and its a really nice line. it really points out that as judgmental as duck is he worries when red isnt acting himself

speaking of jobs theres a running gag of duck disliking when red is clothed starting with this episode (ironically the first episode) when he walks into reds office he asks “what are you wearing?” and laughs at him. its obviously not about the suit itself because duck also wears a suit— so its easy to assume duck is mocking him because he looks silly in any clothes at all. red isnt supposed to wear clothes— and he also feels uncomfortable in them. its not HIM and duck thinks he looks like an idiot for trying to play someone else. he also gags when red wears denim in friendship which is honestly foul of him 😭. no matter the reason tho he canonically prefers red naked.

on a similar topic— there arent many dirty jokes in the show but when there are they almost ALWAYS come from or are about duck. but occasionally red will get caught in the cossfire. the CONSENT teacher shows up after something duck says in the big room. conveniently a room they share without a yellow normally there. thats then followed up by a rock teacher appearing which is a bit awkward considering duck has “private business” with a rock in transport. then to make matters even worse in the bigger room yellow tells them to “experiment on each other”(?!!?) to which duck turns to red and goes “would you be keen?”(😭⁉️)

(the scene where duck looks red up and down in the car is debatable but ill mention it anyway!!)

its hard to ever truly confirm this one because it was never recorded but the reason fluffybird kicked off so hard back in 2022/23 was because a producer on the show during a qna told everyone to continue shipping red and duck! there were multiple people from around different corners of the internet who went to this qna and all had the same story, so i dont think its a lie but i still cant tell you we have full proof. i know becky and joe repost and encourage fanart of them tho, and thats basically the same thing so. anyway

when dhmis won comedy awards they held the trophies together <333

do i even have to mention the fridge scene? well i am!! theres something to be said about how their little confession happens in an episode about and titled “electricity” when electricity and “sparks” between people is a very common trope/phrase in romance. this one is sort of a stretch but i think its neat!

i dont know if becky joe and baker terry had any intentions back in the webseries days for them but the LOVE episode and the way red and duck were left alone at the picnic (mirroring the fridge scene!!!) looks gay as fuck with hindsight bias

when duck comes back from being dead and red is surprised to see him i think the way he says “oh.. hi!” and duck says “helloooo :DD!” is really sweet :(( not to mention the whole argument at the funeral itself. absolute messy ass gay ppl. i dont want YOU i want my BEST FRIEND !!!! and duck was going to leave red his diary… yes it was empty but its still his DIARY!!

the way they email EACHOTHER during computer day is so fucking cute theyre so fucking stupid i love them 💔

the way duck reacts in the food episode isnt talked about enough!! he tears down EVERYTHING to find red. he literally knocks over a camera!! he literally broke reality because he was so desperate to answer the phone. he missed red more than anything and was doing everything he could to find him :(( not to mention how he had to fight his OWN memory in order to remember who red was in the first place! hes always loved him in whatever way :((

the way red laughs when theyre picking on yellow together.. its fucked up and also red is a hypocrite but duck made him laugh and thats something!

the way red tried to comfort duck in the beginning of electricity when he starts to freak out and worry about yellows behavior. he wasnt doing a good job and you could argue he was doing it for selfish reasons and not to actually comfort duck but i really feel it was both. just trying to calm the both of them down.

speaking of electricity again… the way hes washing dishes while duck does a crossword makes me wanna throw up. theyre literally a family. its one of my favorite scenes in the entire series. just in general. i love yellow here too its not abt him rn but i love my son :(((

alright there’s definitely more but im really tired lol so bye fluffybird nation hope this post was fun!!!!!!

EDIT: OH MY GOD I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT TO MENTION STAIN EDWARDS! In death red molds someone else into being duck, looking like duck, sounding like duck— all because he cant let go of him. yellow goes out to dig him up but red doesnt think its possible so he just makes a new one. and you can hear how desperate he is to make sure hes JUST RIGHT. even stain edwards asks him if he has “issues he needs to work out”… which clearly he does. i cant believe i forgot to mention this cuz this is some insane levels of homosexuality. off the fucking charts

[maaarine]

Why are British teenage girls so unhappy? Here’s the answer (Caitlin Moran, The Times, Sep 13 2024)

"The report, by the Children’s Society, found that British 15-year-old girls are the most unhappy in Europe.

British girls aged 10-15 are “significantly less happy” with their life, appearance, family and school than the average boy — and their happiness is still declining.

Boys’ life satisfaction, meanwhile, remains broadly stable. (…)

But I still didn’t have an “aha!” moment about why this so disproportionately affects girls until… I talked to some teenage girls.

It was at a party, and I went to vape with them on the patio. Because I take my nicotine like children do.

“Duh — it’s the boys,” one said when I brought it up, as all the others agreed.

“The boys?” I asked.

My last book, What About Men?, had been all about how much boys struggle these days: their loneliness; their suicide rates. I’d spent the past year feeling very sympathetic towards boys.

“Yeah, well, who do you think they’re taking out their unhappiness on? It’s us,” another girl said.

“One boy at school used to draw a picture every day of how ugly I was,” a third girl said. “Every day for two years.”

“They’ve all got ‘Rate The Girls’ polls on their WhatsApps,” the first said. “They mark you down for weight gain, haircuts, what you say.”

“But then, if you’re hot, it’s just as bad, in a different way, because they’ll be talking about how they want to f*** you.”

The girls discussed coping techniques. Bad news: none of them worked.

“The only way you can stop them is if you become ‘one of the boys’ and hang out with them. But then,” the second girl said with a sigh, “all the other girls call you a slut. Because you’ve gone over to the boys’ side.”

“Surely it’s not all the boys?” I said. “There must be some nice boys?”

“Oh, yeah,” one girl said. “But they keep their heads down. Because… well, look.”

She showed me the Instagram account of her friend. Under every picture she posted of herself — smiling in a new dress; with her dog — dozens of anonymous accounts had replied with the most rank abuse.

“Fat.” “Slut.” “You gonna try and kill yourself again, for attention?”

“They’re all boys from her school,” she said. “And look, this one boy tried to defend her.”

I saw a series of messages from a brave teenage boy, posting things like, “You’re all big men, leaving these replies under anonymous accounts.”

As I could see, this boy immediately became a target too. Mainly accusations that he was “white knighting” this girl: “You wanna f*** her, bro?”

“So,” I asked, “you don’t think it’s social media pressure to be beautiful, or the economy, that’s making girls so sad?”

“Well, yeah, them too,” the first girl said. “But, Monday-Friday, 9-3, I’m not on social media. I’m not… in the economy. I’m just with these boys. And no one talks about how horrible they are.”

I thought about another recent report, showing a 30 per cent ideological gap between Gen Z men, who are increasingly conservative, and Gen Z women, who are increasingly progressive.

I thought about Andrew Tate, who has nine million mostly young male followers — and faces human trafficking charges, which he denies.

And I thought: maybe these girls are on to something. Maybe more people need to vape with teenage girls and ask them for the school gossip."

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[quimichi]

⌗﹒THEIR VOICE LINES ABOUT YOU ౨ৎ˚₊‧ GN!

Aether

❝Since the beginning of Mondstadt they've been with me. They actually turned out to be my second guide! Which makes Paimon even more of an emergency food❞

❝Whaa-Paimon will pretend Paimon didn't hear that!❞

❝No really, I'm glad I found them...or rather they found me. It really wasn't much of a surprise when I-oh-I'm already talking too much again.❞

❝Traveler can go shy when he talks about his lover, hehe. STOP PULLING ME AWAY-H-HEY-!❞

Albedo

❝Oh? I see, you already heard about Y/n. Well, its not a big of a surprise, they're well known here in Mondstadt. Don't worry, if you ever encounter them, dont be shy to talk to them. They have actually been a great help for my researches and experiments. ❞

Al-Haitham

❝ Y/N? Yes, what about them? Yes, we're in a relationship, and? No, I'm not mad, why? I'm asking to much questions? Could ask you that, you seem awfully interested in my partner. Passive aggressive? Pff, now you're just pretending things. ❞

Ayato

❝ You'd like to know more about Y/n? What makes you think I have answers? Oh? I see, Ayaka has told you about it, well...Me and Y/n have been in a relationship for quite a while now. They're a very good support, doesn't matter what path i take or decisions I make, they always have my back. Without them I wouldn't be half the man I am right now. Satisfied with this answer? ❞

Baizhu

❝ The person that always helps out here is not some assistant. Don't worry, I'm sure they're not insulted. Who else are they then? Oh, my lover. Whats with that surprised look on your face? Didn't think I'd be taken? To be frank...I'm quite surprised too that I got this lucky.❞

Bennett

❝ Y/n? My lucky charm? They're awesome! A loyal member in Benny's adventure team...the only one though...They go on every adventure with me! Saved my life multiple times! Bring me good furtune! And are my partner! Wow, I really lucked out for real this time.❞

Capitano

❝ I'd like to keep my private life as private as possible...but for you I make an exception, just this once. Yes, Y/n is my life partner, my lover if you'd like to put it that way. I hold them very dear and would protect them with my life if i have to. So, if I ever sense any bad intentions coming from you, I will crush you with everything I've got.❞

Childe

❝ They spend last winter with me and my family. So, to show them around and make them feel more comfortable in Snezhnaya we had a little snowball fight. Y/n got hit a dozen times in the face by Teucer. They lost, obviously. But the best part was, when we went home, the slipped right before the door and fell ass first to the ground...but instead of being upset or annoyed...they laughed. I knew they we're the one right then and there.❞

Chongyun

❝ Oh you know Y/n? Well, I do too. You knew? Xingqiu huh?...Can't seem to keep quite sometimes...Yes, I am dating them. Saying this feels foreign...I still can't believe they chose me of all people. But I'm not too insecure about it, after all, they chose me of all people.❞

Cyno

❝ Y/n is one of the few people who actually laugh at my jokes. I don’t know if its out of pity or if i truly make them laugh, but either way i don't care. As long as i see a smile on their face I'm at ease. Huh? What do you mean i sound lovesick?❞

Dainsleif

❝ There are things that I'd rather keep private and save, including my relationship with Y/n. So I have to apo-...no, i trust you but-...You're right. Y/n and I have been in a relationship for quite a long time now. They mean a lot to me, thats why I want to keep any information about them as private as I can.❞

Diluc

❝ Yes, I am in a relationship with Y/n. I guess the topic makes his rounds, huh? We announced our relationship just yesterday, but have been serious for a long time now. I am...not a public as you know. And i didn't wanted any unwanted or negative attention on both of us but i know i can trust you. Right?❞

Dottore

❝ Did i ever had a lover? What an inappropriate question of you~ Of course i had lovers, but none could compare to my favorite. Have you heard of Y/n? Oh yes, they are quite popular aren't they~? Well, they're mine, all mine. So it would be better for you if you keep your hands off them. ❞

Freminet

❝ Are they my friend? Uhm...no...they're a bit more than that. Uhm, yeah they're my partner. We've been together for a while now...Am i happy? Of course i am...I'm just a bit embarrassed thats all. No one has really asked me about our relationship yet except for Lyney, Lynette and father.❞

Gorou

❝ You want to know about Y/n? Sure, what do you wanna know? Yes, they're my partner, in fact, we live together! They're a really caring, they make breakfast every morning, tend any injuries i have and sometimes even run me a bath...that was too intimate.❞

Heizou

❝ Y/n? What do you know about them? Nothing yet but you wanna know more? Why? Interested? Why am I asking all these questions? I'm a detective, and you're interested in my lover-oops-now i ran my mouth.❞

Itto

❝ You mean the oni one for me?! The true love of my life!? THEY'RE AWESOME. I'm so incredibly lucky to have them. AND they're so incredibly lucky to have the awesome one and oni Arataki Itto as their boyfriend!❞

Kazuha

❝ They are currently waiting for my arrival...i cannot wait to have them in my arms again. I miss them every day...What's that book? Oh, it's just for all the poems i write for them while being away. One poem for each day. Once I'm back, i read them to them.❞

Kaeya

❝ Oh you mean my little snowflake? Yes, i know them quite well, i can assure you that one. Wasn't always like that though, took is a while to actually get closer. But i won't complain either way, I'm happy that we finally found each other...damn, look at all the sappy things I'm saying, they've done this to me.❞

Kaveh

❝ I'm still planning our house, i just cannot make it perfect! Ugh, it's really getting on my nerves. I NEED this perfect for them, I need to make this the house of their dreams. But it's taking way to long. Since when am i planning? About 3 years. And since when are we dating? Also about 3 years...oh...❞

Kinich

❝ When they first traveled to Natlan they didn't met me immediately. I've only got to know them through Mualani and Kachina. They once expressed their hatred towards saurian hunters, went off yapping for a good hour too. You should've seen the look on their face once i told them i was one of them. They're still embarrassed to this day, even more after i explained what i really do. One of the many memories that truly make me happy.❞

Lyney

❝ They're aware that true magic doesn't exist. That all my shows are just an act. That somewhere is a trick hidden, so simple its ridiculous. And yet, they're still amazed, still getting big eyed when I'm on stage preforming. Even after countless shows that are the same, they're clapping along like it was the first....I couldn't not have asked for a better support and love in my life then them.❞

Mika

❝ I still don't know how i managed to confess, maybe it's because i can't really remember it anyway. It's a memory I'd like to forget entirely, mostly because i was so embarrassed afterwards. But I never want to forget what they said afterwards. Everytime i hear those 4 words from them I get butterflies.❞

Neuvillette

❝ Y/n and I are in a serious relationship since 5 years and 4 months. We have been living together since 3 years and 1 month. I do consider our relationship deep and intimate. I trust them deeply and never once did I think about it otherwise. I truly believe that our relationship will hold on for eternity. Is this enough information or should I tell you more?❞

Pantalone

❝ Ah, my spoiled little brat? Joking, joking...well, only half. I do spoil them quite a lot, but i wouldn't consider them a brat...most of the time. Just last week I bought them this new coat, winter in Snezhnaya are the hardest in all Teyvat. Oh, and new gloves, a scarf an-no, why would i brag with my money, it's not like i have enough to buy at least million of coats.❞

Pierro

❝ The only thing you need to know is that they are with me and well taken care off. Should you not remember the fact that any hate or violence towards them is strictly forbidden, i will gladly remind you. ❞

Razor

❝ Y/n helped Razor a lot. Razor appreciates it, the help. Razor also loves Y/n. That's what Y/n always tells Razor every day. So Razor tells Y/n every day too.❞

Scaramouche

❝ Who? My lover? Them? No, I would never. No, I'm not keeping anything private?! Neither am I ashamed of anything...quite the opposite, huh? No, said nothing. Screw off now, i need to be somewhere. Where? None of your damn business...So what if its a date?!❞

Thoma

❝ Mhm, you're quite right, Y/n and I arw together. Lucked out, huh? I'm currently teaching them how to cook some dishes, been going well...for the most part. No, they have a hand for it but both of us always seem to lose any focus once we're 30 minutes into it.❞

Tighnari

❝ You should've heard their begging, "Oh Tighnari please, i can keep my own garden!" Yeah, keeping it, but not take care of it. Because who takes care of it? Correct, me. It's easy work, so it's not too troublesome. But what is troublesome is how they don't take care of it. *sigh* maybe i am a bit to harsh on them, they are a bit stressed lately anyway. They deserve to take a rest and calm down from everything. So i gladly take care of the garden, for as long as they need me to.❞

Venti

❝ Our first meeting was quite the embarrassing one, almost feel quite shy telling it....Ok! Ok! I'll tell you!....I fell into their lap...No, i wasn't drunk! Someone else was, pushed me by accident and i stumbled backwards right onto their lap in angels share. And to top it off i took their plate and drink with me. Lucky for me, they weren't mad at all. Still...it's so embarrassing!❞

Wriothesley

❝ Took them quite a while to adjust to Meropide. Understandable though, it's a change from the surface. But once they grew comfortable, it's almost like they don't want to leave. They quickly befriended almost everyone, especially Sigewinne. They grew quite popular here in the matter of just a few weeks. Good for me i got them first before anyone else could.❞

Xiao

❝ Hm? Oh, them? Yes, we're close. Why do you ask? Just curious? Ugh, don't look at me like that. What do you wanna hear? How much i love them? You can wait till the day Teyvat will shatter entirely, I won't say it to you, only to them.❞

Xingqiu

❝ Our love story is picture perfect. A written love story by the finest ink. Full of clichés. We reached for the same book, and our hands touched. Then and there, i was mesmerized...until they snatched the book first.❞

Zhongli

❝ Our love story has been holding on since 3717 years, and it will hold on for many years more. What makes me so sure it will? We love each other like it was the very first day. Never once did we lie to one another, were apart from each other or lost our trust. I do have a contract anyway if anything should happen.❞

[sharlsworld]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ horn dog - 𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓 ⚘

（ 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗓 𝗑 𝗐𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ）

（ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ）𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗈𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗓 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌．𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗇，𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽，𝖿𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋．．．𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗒

🝮

carlossainz55

liked by pierregasly and 2,184,643 others

carlossainz55 I went golfing with Lando

charles_leclerc Very nice thank you for sharing with the class Carlos

yn yeah and he asked me to pack them lunch & cut the crusts off their sandwiches

⤷ landonorris what can i say? i’m a man who knows what he wants 🤷‍♂️

⤷ yn you cried and locked yourself in the bathroom when a bee landed on your shoulder last week

⤷ landonorris hey. it was a wasp alright

⤷ yn yes yes very manly

carlando y/n is so over this bromance

maxverstappen1 Very much hurt that I wasn’t invited.

⤷ yn the last time we went golfing the club flew out of your hands before you even touched the ball

⤷ maxverstappen1 Why am I catching strays?? 😨

yn cute. the hat, not you guys

⤷ carlossainz55 I love you too baby ❤️

⤷ yn get home now

⤷ carlossainz55 Yes ma’am

⤷ oscarpiastri Walk em like a dog sis walk em like a dog 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

⤷ carlossainz55 Don’t make me block you again

⤷ oscarpiastri Again?

🝮

carlossainz55

liked by fernandoalo_oficial and 3,379,802 others

carlossainz55 Date night with my one and only ❤️

georgerussell63 Oh jeez here comes baby #3. Brace yourselves everyone

danielricciardo Okay who let them out for dinner unsupervised?

scuderiaferrari Betting 500$ that it’s gonna be another boy.

⤷ mclaren Get your money in order.

⤷ f1 This is inappropriate behavior. Jk I’m betting on another boy

⤷ carlossainz55 ??

⤷ f1 And if I said twins then what?

⤷ carlossainz55 ???????

landonorris be expecting a pregnancy reveal in about 3 weeks everyone.

⤷ yn well just fuck me then i guess

⤷ carlossainz55 I did?

charles_leclerc Leave that poor girl alone Carlos goodness gracious

pierregasly Lets keep this PG carlos

⤷ carlossainz55 You cannot be talking

⤷ pierregasly You right you right 🐶

alex_albon you dirty dog 😏

⤷ georgerussell63 No. Not the vibes

⤷ alex_albon oh…

alex_albon is anyone else getting hot? 🌶️🥵

⤷ georgerussell63 Just stop trying. It’s getting sad

⤷ alex_albon alright then!

🝮

yn

liked by sunisalee and 7,826,917 others

yn 💌

landonorris wait a damn minute

georgerussell63 Very confuzzled

pierregasly Teach me your ways Carlos

alex_albon does bro have super sperm??

landonorris your already pregnant??

⤷ yn BEEN 😇 that picture carlos posted was from 4 months ago

⤷ landonorris i feel very betrayed right now

⤷ landonorris THIS IS WHY WE HAVENT BEEN HANGING OUT? 💔💔

⤷ yn well we can hangout now

⤷ landonorris ok i’m coming over

♥︎ by author

lewishamilton Congratulations you two!! I’m so happy for you guys 💙

alexandrasaintmleux Hardest secret to keep 😫 So happy we can finally have our shopping dates back

⤷ carlossainz I’m not. You guys go out everyday

francisca.cgomes cutest ever 🥹🥹 i’m so excited for baby sainz #3 <33

lilymhe Hottest mommy 😉🩷 i love u all

carmenmmundt Congratulations pretty lady I’m so happy for you and your family 🩵

charles_leclerc HAHAHAH I’VE KNOWN SINCE DAY 1 YOURE ALL LOSERS

landonorris CHARLES AND ALEX KNEW ME BEFORE ME?!?!?!? CHARLES IS SUCH A BIG MOUTH THOUGH

5 minutes ago

landonorris i’m turing around right now. i just need a minute to process this.

5 minutes ago

landonorris ok i’ve processed this i’m standing outside open the door

4 minutes ago

🝮

carlossainz55

liked by georgerussell63 and 1,174,823 others

carlossainz55 The past week

alex_albon big back big back, carlos ate all the big mac’s 😍🌶️🥵😇

⤷ georgerussell63 Alex please

yn oooh hey fattie 🫶🏽

⤷ carlossainz55 Hello baby 😘❤️

francisca.cgomes baby emilio 🩵🩵

charles_leclerc I think carlos jr jr and emilio want to have another sleepover with leo and uncle charlie 😇

landonorris yum 😋 not the pizza, you 😉

scuderiaferrari Our favorite family ❤️

⤷ yn clearly not

⤷ yn who said that?

alexandrasaintmleux This is the most unaesthetic post I’ve ever seen

⤷ carlossainz55 Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today

⤷ carlossainz55 Hold on are you saying my wife isn’t aesthetic?? And my son?? How dare you

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux No y/n and emilio are always aesthetic I’m saying you don’t know how to put the right pictures together

⤷ carlossainz55 I don’t want to hear it

lilymhe only here for my girl and the babies

⤷ carlossainz55 You’re girl??

⤷ lilymhe yes MY girl 😂

⤷ charlos4eva carlos is always fighting for his life in the comments

hoeforsainzzz y/n still being salty is so real

all4lando what i would do to be that piece of pizza isn’t okay 😫😫

operationsainz55 i’ve missed lando always being with them 🥹

sharls_leclercussy baby emilio appearance!! now we need baby los

georgerussell63 Emilio did NOT want to hand that flower over

⤷ alex_albon “emy just pretend like your giving me the flower okay?”

⤷ carlossainz55 You two are the BIGGEST haters I know. BIGGEST if yk what I mean 🐽🐽

⤷ georgerussell63 What are you trying to say Carlos?

⤷ carlossainz55 I’m say you guys are fatties, might wanna cut back on the drinks, you girls are getting beer bellies

⤷ georgerussell63 How dare you, you bastard. I do not drink beer.

charles_leclerc Biggie & biggie jr ❤️

🝮

yn

liked by meretmanon and 2,234,890 others

yn i love you nyc

alexandrasaintmleux We need a girls trip to nyc

⤷ yn omg yes i’m already writing ideas in my notes app

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Already making a mood board

⤷ carlossainz55 We’ll be back in December everyone

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux we?

⤷ yn as in me and alex?

⤷ carlossainz55 Wow

⤷ charles_leclerc Wow

landonorris me and the boys just got done absolutely demolishing some dino nuggets

⤷ yn that sounds very fun lando thank you for sharing with us

⤷ alex_albon they left you guys at the hotel? 😭

⤷ landonorris no they shipped me and the babies back to monaco to have some “alone time” if yk what i mean

⤷ georgerussell63 The baby doesn’t get hurt?

⤷ maxverstappen1 I don’t think it’s big enough to reach 😂

⤷ carlossainz55 Excuse me? I’ll let you know that I have bruised her cervix many times

⤷ landonorris Carlos sainz are you saying your saying you rough up your wife? 🫢 you dirty dog

⤷ alex_albon oh so he can say it but not me?

⤷ carlossainz55 What can I say she likes it that way

⤷ georgerussell63 You don’t need to be big to bruise someone’s cervix

⤷ carlossainz55 Tell that to her belly bulge

⤷ alex_albon and how would you know that George Russell? 🤨

⤷ georgerussell63 Google ho 🤣

⤷ oscarpiastri who is this DIVA💜

⤷ lewishamilton Wow sometimes I forget your not a middle aged man

⤷ oscarpiastri Like you? 🤣🤣 might be time to hang up the helmet old man💀 and rookie Alonso

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial What he say fuck me for??

⤷ yn idk leave me alone

scuderiaferrari Hope you all are having the best time in NYC ❤️

⤷ mclaren Read the fucking room?

⤷ redbullracing Ooh someone took the lead and don’t know how to act 🙄

⤷ mercedesamgf1 I HATE YOU ALL

⤷ f1 ho is u coo?

🝮

landonorris

liked by pierregasly and 1,121,672 others

landonorris life as a single mom

BEING A MOM IS A JOB TO GUYS!!

yn oh shut your face

⤷ landonorris can you not yell?? i just put the boys to bed jeez

⤷ yn are you being cereal right now 😐

⤷ landonorris someone didn’t get d down last night

⤷ yn i’m gonna punch you in the throat when i get back to monaco

⤷ landonorris carlos!! control your woman!

⤷ carlossainz55 No thanks she scares me 🥰

⤷ landonorris at least give her some of that d man

⤷ carlossainz55 She’s been gettin it trust

⤷ yn why is our sex life always the topic of conversation??

⤷ carlossainz55 Bitches wish they were us

⤷ landonorris ooh we love a sassy man 💋

⤷ yn what is wrong with you

⤷ landonorris please don’t use that tone with me i’m feeling very sensitive right now

⤷ yn aww is it that time of the month

⤷ landonorris i’m the sweetest girl in town so why are you sooo mean? 💔😞🖤😖

oscarpiastri They always look like they just got back from war after being with you for more then 24 hours

charles_leclerc Let’s pray you don’t have kids until your at least 30

⤷ yn you’re*

⤷ oscarpiastri you’re*

⤷ lewishamilton you’re*

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux you’re*

⤷ landonorris your*

⤷ landonorris fuck i can’t do anything right

⤷ charles_leclerc I GET IT DAMN

⤷ charles_leclerc hahaha lando go back to school

⤷ landonorris you coming with me genius?

⤷ charles_leclerc damn

danielricciardo Now why would they trust you with two kids under 5

⤷ landonorris you’d be surprised with how much they trust me with…that’s right guys i know their dirty secrets 😏🍆🍑

⤷ carlossainz55 I’ll spill all your dirty secrets if you spill any of my dirty secrets

⤷ geogrerussell63 How are you guys getting that font??

⤷ landonorris it’s a secret

🝮

yn

liked by oliviajade and 4,769,106 others

yn surprise surprise,

mathéo & malachi 🤍 our little miracles

alexandrasaintmleux So much love 🤍 I’m obsessed with them already 🥰🥰

landonorris two more godsons to love 💙

f1 What did I say? Congratulations you two we are all so happy for your family 💙💙

carmenmmundt How precious 🥹🥹

alex_albon so what i’m hearing is carlos DOES have super sperm?

lilyzneimer sweet angel babies 🤍🤍

scuderiaferrari Does this mean we get 1000?? 😁😁

⤷ mclaren I was jking I knew it was gonna be a boy

⤷ f1 Hahahaha you have to pay both of us now 😂🫵🏽

francisca.cgomes so much boys 😭🩵🩵 i can’t wait to meet them 🥹

lewishamilton double trouble 💙💙💙 beautiful blessings truly

landonorris 4 is the best number 😏

⤷ yn don’t make me get pregnant again just to make it 5

⤷ landonorris gonna go cry in the bathroom brb

⤷ yn don’t come back ❤️

⤷ landonorris my heart can’t take this anymore

georgerussell63 You poor girl how are you surviving with all these boys??? 😦

⤷ yn i love my clingy boys

charles_leclerc Can’t wait to get them on the track

⤷ carlossainz55 You and me both brother

⤷ estiebestie i’m not okay

danielricciardo Congratulations on expanding your football team 💙

lilymhe milf 4x 😉 in absolute awe of them 🩵

pierregasly Carlos Sainz the man that you are

carlossainz55 I love you and our sons more then life itself baby, I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone but you ❤️

⤷ landonorris SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

⤷ maxverstappen1 Come on grandpa, let’s get you back to bed

[kyaruun]

my therapist is convinced that i'm super egocentric and idk where i went wrong and she assumed the entire opposite thing of what the real issue is

like the whole problem is i can't put my needs before anyone else's!! i could be dying and i'd be like "nooo don't call a doctor this is no problem pls don't bother them </3"