#...........but what if i got a tiny turkey

[theshiniestgemstone]

The baby shower was happening far later than you would’ve liked. Your lower back ached with each step, and your feet were so swollen you had to keep them propped on a folding chair beside you, ankles barely visible over the edge. Between other engagements, family events, and scheduling nightmares, it had been nearly impossible to find time. But by the grace of God himself, and a particularly aggressive group chat, you managed to pull it off.

The sun was high, casting a golden warmth over Eli’s backyard. Tables were draped in pastel linens, and the decorations were simple but charming, with baby blue balloons tangled with soft yellows and tiny plastic ducks floating in mason jars filled with lemon water. Someone had even arranged a garland of onesies across the back fence, clipped up with clothespins and tagged with handwritten notes of advice.

Gideon stood by the grill with Eli and Jesse, locked in minute thirty-five of unsolicited fatherly advice. Eli had one hand resting heavily on Gideon’s shoulder, his other gesturing with a beer as he rattled off a story from Jesse’s infancy. Jesse, for his part, nodded sagely before adding his own two cents, which mostly involved listening to whatever the hell you said and never commenting on your mood unless he wanted to die.

“Just let her make the decisions, son,” Jesse was saying. “Even if you think you’ve got a better one. You don’t. Trust me.”

Eli hummed in agreement, flipping a burger. “And don’t be afraid to cry. Babies bring out strange things in a man. I wept for two hours when Judy was born.”

Jesse smiled smugly. “What about me, daddy?”

Eli took a breath. “Point is Gideon, don’t be afraid to feel your feelings.”

Across the lawn, Kelvin proudly presented a foam board decorated with glitter pens and cut-out baby bottle stickers. At the top, in bold block letters, it read: Guess Baby’s Weight and Length! The guesses varied wildly, from eight pounds and delicate to one that looked suspiciously like a small turkey.

That was how you found out Gideon had been an eleven-pound baby.

You’d blinked at his mother's scribbled guess on the board. 11 lbs, 23 inches :). Then slowly turned to look at him in stunned horror.

Amber, who’d been standing behind you in line for deviled eggs, caught a glimpse of Judy’s guess, twelve pounds and physically shuddered. Her fork nearly dropped.

“Oh honey,” she murmured, leaning closer. “God bless you if that runs in the family.”

You just nodded, hand instinctively going to your belly. You weren’t even sure you could carry a baby that size. But now the thought had wormed its way into your brain, and it refused to leave.

A gust of wind fluttered the paper plates and set the balloons bouncing. You shifted in your seat, watching as Gideon laughed at something Jesse said, eyes squinting in the sun, smile wide. He was glowing and he didn’t even know it.

And despite the discomfort, the worry, and the trauma that might come with birthing a future linebacker, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

The first baby of the next generation had everyone in an uproar, practically foaming at the mouth for details. You and Gideon, to your credit, had kept things airtight. No slip-ups. No clues. Not even the faintest hint when Judy cornered you in the kitchen with a tray of mini quiches and a suspicious glint in her eye.

“The gender will be a surprise,” you’d repeated more times than you could count, always with a tight smile and a rehearsed shrug. “Even we don’t know.”

It drove them crazy.

They tried everything from rubbing your belly for “energy” to analyzing the way you carried and even cross-referencing old wives' tales with the color of your cravings. Jesse swore he saw a flash of pink on one of the sonogram prints that Gideon kept tucked in his wallet. Amber claimed your nose hadn’t changed, and that was a sign. Eli refused to play the guessing game entirely, insisting it was none of his business until the baby was in his arms. Ten minutes later, he slid you a twenty dollar bill in a poor attempt at bribery. You plucked it form his hands with a grin, thank you for the first contribution to the college fund.

As for names, there was a short list of three or four you both loved, a few backups in case the baby came out and just wasn’t a Ruthie or an Alex or whatever mood you’d settled on that week. One name had stuck harder than the others, lingering in quiet conversations at night, whispered against your neck while you lay in bed tracing the curve of your stomach. But even that wasn’t shared. Not yet.

“They’ll know when they need to know,” Gideon said with a grin every time someone pushed.

And so the guessing continued. Kelvin tried to bribe it out of you with baby books and foot rub coupons. Judy dropped hints she liked gender-neutral names. Jesse scribbled a list of boy names on a napkin and tucked it into Gideon’s back pocket like he was doing God’s work.

But the two of you just smiled. Let them twist.

More games were played, each one more ridiculous than the last but, somehow, all of them were perfect.

“Pin the Diaper on the Baby” was a crowd favorite, mostly because Kelvin had made the baby poster far too realistic, and no one could stop laughing at the tiny cartoon version of Gideon’s face pasted over it. You had to sit that one out, belly far too big for blindfolded stumbling, but you laughed so hard your ribs hurt when Eli ended up diapering the baby’s face.

Then came the race to see who could diaper and swaddle a teddy bear the fastest. Judy moved like she’d trained for it her whole life, snapping a cloth diaper into place with military precision and wrapping the bear up tight in less than thirty seconds. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin as if daring anyone to challenge her. No one did. By the end of it, she’d declared herself top babysitter, and Amber claimed the bear was rigged.

And then, it was time for gifts.

The energy in the room shifted as everyone gathered around, plastic folding chairs creaking and camera phones at the ready. You were helped into the center seat, propped up with cushions and a plate of fruit you didn’t ask for. Gideon sat behind you, legs on either side of yours, arms wrapped around your waist like you were made of glass.

Each gift was its own little spectacle. Tiny booties hand-knit by Aunt Tiffany. A stack of bibs embroidered with inside jokes from Jesse (“Lil Puker” in glitter thread). A fancy bottle warmer that Kelvin insisted was the one all the celebrity parents used.

You tried not to cry when Eli handed you a box filled with a baby quilt stitched from pieces of old Gemstone t-shirts. Some were faded from tours, others from church events long past. He’d labeled each square with a little note, written in his careful block letters.

“This one’s from Jesse’s first baptism. This here’s from the youth retreat in 2003. Thought it might be nice to wrap ‘em in a bit of home.”

You squeezed his hand, tears slipping down your cheeks as the room quieted for a moment.

And Gideon? He just held you tighter, whispering softly into your ear, “They already love this baby so much.”

Kelvin’s voice cut through the hum of overlapping conversations about swaddles and onesies. “Keefe also has a gift for you!”

There was a collective ooooh from the crowd, and before you could ask what he meant, Keefe was already beside you, cheeks flushed and hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Gideon rose from behind you, steadying your elbows as the two of them helped you up from the lawn chair you’d been parked in for most of the afternoon.

They guided you around the back of the garden, past a row of neatly trimmed hedges. The din of the baby shower faded just slightly, the shade offering a moment of cool reprieve from the sun, and then you saw it.

Nestled beneath the branches of a tall magnolia tree stood a crib.

It was made of rich, honey-toned cedar, polished to a soft glow, the natural woodgrain left exposed like an artist’s signature. The edges were smooth and rounded, sanded down with meticulous care. No nails were visible; everything was joined together with precision and craftsmanship that spoke of long hours and careful work. Tiny carved doves lined the headboard, each wing and feather lovingly detailed. On the footboard, there was a hand-burned etching of a gemstone, an obvious nod to the family, though subtly done, surrounded by sunbeams and flowers.

The slats were spaced perfectly, safe and secure, and the whole thing sat sturdy on a soft-rocking base, like it was designed to gently sway, not startle. Tied to one of the posts with a delicate white ribbon was a card that read, in Keefe’s handwriting: May they sleep like an angel, even when they scream like a banshee.

Gideon let out a breath beside you, visibly moved. You turned to see Keefe watching your reaction with wide, nervous eyes, his hands clasped together like he was praying it wasn’t too much or too little or somehow wrong.

“I didn’t have much growing up,” Keefe said quietly, “but I know what it feels like to want your kid to sleep in something that was made with love. So, I just… I wanted y’all to have that.”

You didn’t say anything at first, just reached out, hand brushing the smooth surface of the wood, letting the love and care he’d poured into every inch soak in. Then you turned and hugged him, as best you could with your belly between you.

Gideon reached over and gripped Keefe’s shoulder with quiet, wordless gratitude.

“I even left a space for their name when they get here.”

You wailed. Literally wailed.

It wasn’t a cute, misty-eyed sniffle or a graceful tear rolling down your cheek. It was a full-on, chest-heaving, snot-forming, couldn’t-even-speak kind of cry. The kind of emotional floodgate that came only with months of pregnancy hormones, sleepless nights, and the overwhelming kindness of a man like Keefe who had, unprompted, made room for your baby’s name before they’d even taken their first breath.

Keefe’s eyes widened in alarm. “I didn’t think you’d cry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Gideon, gently chuckling, pulled you into his side with one arm while using the other to wave Keefe down. “No, no, she’s not sad, man. You just broke her heart in the nicest possible way.”

You nodded through your sobs, pressing your face into Gideon’s shoulder and raising one thumb in the universal sign for I'm okay but also devastated in the best way imaginable.

Keefe softened. “There’s a little wood-burned plaque, right there at the top,” he said quietly. “Just four nails holding it in. You can pop it off and switch it out, once you know who they are or if you have more."

You peeked through your tears, and sure enough, there was a gently curved space left bare at the crest of the headboard, framed with carved laurels. Waiting for a name, a little life that would make the crib complete.

Gideon exhaled slowly, jaw clenched, eyes glassy. He stared at it like it was the most sacred thing he’d ever seen.

“Keefe,” he said, voice thick. “That’s the most thoughtful damn thing anyone’s ever done for us.”

Later that night, after they’d brought the crib into the nursery, you stood there in the doorway thinking about it. In just a few weeks, there'd be a baby in that crib, dozing quietly after a tough day of diaper changes and meals. You could feel the tears running down your cheeks as Gideon's soft snores carried down the hallway. You pressed a hand over your bump, the skin warm beneath your palm. The little one was still kicking, still running laps like they had no intention of letting you sleep. You smiled through the ache in your ribs, tears sliding silently down your cheeks.

"Any day now, baby," you whispered, moving to take a seat in the rocking chair Jesse had given you at some point during your pregnancy.

[lover-of-skellies]

I am very strongly, very firmly a cat person. Cats have been, and will always continue to be my first choice, in terms of what kind of pet to have

But ALSO

I held a baby turkey today

It fell asleep repeatedly in my hand while I was petting it. There was no squirming, no trying to get away, it didn't even fuss or make any noise at me. The baby was totally chill and looked like it was in complete nirvana, and it was so unbelievably cute

[cherryyluvs]

-MARK X READER, REX X READER✰

SUMMERY: A fair date with Mark & Rex that turns into a chaotic mix of rigged games and sweet moments under the lights, because winning your heart is the real prize.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᰔ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

MARK GRAYSON !

The idea was totally his. Mark wanted to do something fun and different for your date. So when he saw that the fair would be opened, he knew it was perfect. He was excited, cotton candy, cheesy rides, and getting time to spend the whole night with you? What could be better than this? "Okay, we have to get funnel cake first. And then we have to get on the Ferris wheel."

Drags you straight to the food stands. Mark is always hungry, so of course the first thing he does is buy enough fair food to feed a small village. Corn dogs, deep fried Oreos, caramel apples. He's got it all.

Fails miserably at the games. He knows they're a scam but that doesn't stop him from trying to get you a gift. The ring toss? Impossible. “Uh. Okay. That was a warm up.” The 'Test your strength' hammer game? He definitely overestimates how hard to hit it and nearly breaks the whole thing.

Gets a little pouty about it.

Mark cheats just a tiny bit. You catch him using his Viltrumite strength to finally win you a prize. The game operator squints but they let it slide because Mark looks way too proud of himself. “See? I told you I could do it.

The Ferris wheel is the highlight of the night. He makes sure you guys get the seat right at the top, where the whole fair sparkles blow, the stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky. It's quiet, peaceful, and just for a second he forgets about being a superhero. It's just you and him <3

The nights ends by winning you a tiny trinket. Maybe it's a cheap bracelet or a silly fair prize, but he hands it to you like it's the most valuable thing over. "Here, now you'll always remember our first fair date."

REX SPLODE !

Rex pretends like he's too cool for the fair. "A fair? Babe, that's for kids." But the moment you guys there, he's dragging you toward the turkey leg stand like a man on a mission.

He refuses to buy just one thing. If there's food, he's eating it. "You ever had deep fried butter? No? Babe, you gotta try this." He's handing you the weirdest fair food, grinning every time you make a face.

Tries the basketball hoop game first. He thinks he's got this in the bag since he is an athlete after all. But the ball bounces off the tiny rim every single time, you're holding back a laugh while he's just standing there. “Nah, nah, I ain't leavin til I win somethin!" He ends up spending way too much money trying to beat one game.

He is going to win you something even if it kills him. “Babe, don’t even worry. I got this.” (Spoiler: He does not got this.)

At some point, he cheats. Look, it's not his fault his powers are useful! You didn't see him flick his wrist and make the ball explode off the backboard to land perfectly in the hoop. If the guy running the game didn't catch it, then did he really cheat?

“BOOM, BABY! WHO’S THE CHAMP?” He’s yelling while holding up the giant plush bear he just won.

Ferris wheel is his moment to be sweet. He acts like he doesn't care about "sappy fair crap", but when you two get to the top. He actually shuts up for once, looking at you, eyes soft. Before resting a hand on your thigh. “This ain’t bad, y’know? Just us, the view… kinda perfect.”

Ends the night with fireworks. If there aren't any fireworks at the fair, he makes some just for you. Just to impress you. "Boom. Fire works just for you." <3

[rafedarling]

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: you and drew both decided to let rustyn celebrate his first christmas with both sides of your extended family. rustyn, at just six months old, steals everyone’s hearts with his bright smile and lively personality just like his dada.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff overload, mentions of breastfeeding and parenting dynamics, family gatherings.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore

“Merry Christmas!” you both called out cheerfully as the door opened.

Your mom appeared in the doorway, her face lighting up at the sight of her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson.

“Oh, Y/N!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“And look at this little one!”

Her eyes softened as she bent down to stroke Rustyn’s cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” you said warmly, stepping aside so Drew could greet her.

Drew leaned in to give her a quick hug, careful not to jostle the baby carrier.

“Merry Christmas! We’ve been looking forward to this all month.”

“And so have we,” your mom replied, beaming.

“Oh, come in, come in! It’s freezing out there.”

As you stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloped you, and the sound of laughter and holiday music made your heart swell.

Drew’s family was already mingling with yours, chatting as if they’d known each other forever. It was exactly what you had envisioned when you and Drew decided to bring both families together for Christmas this year.

Your dad approached, his smile wide as he greeted Drew with a handshake that quickly turned into a hug.

“There’s my son-in-law! And my grandson,” he said, his voice filled with pride.

He leaned down to make funny faces at Rustyn, who responded with an excited giggle.

“Say hi to Grandpa,”

Drew said, gently lifting one of Rustyn’s tiny hands to wave. Your dad’s laughter echoed through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweet interaction between them.

After everyone had exchanged warm greetings, you and Drew found yourselves in the living room, where the Christmas tree stood tall and sparkling. Its ornaments glimmered and a stack of presents was piled neatly underneath.

Brooke, Drew’s sister, knelt down beside you with a brightly wrapped box in her hands.

“This one’s for Rustyn,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

“Oh, how exciting!”

You exclaimed, settling Rustyn on your lap so he could reach for the present. Though only six months old, his chubby hands eagerly grabbed at the wrapping paper, his face lighting up with a toothless grin.

“You’ve got this, buddy,”

Drew encouraged, leaning over to help tear a small piece of the paper.

Rustyn squealed in delight as the gift was revealed; a soft, plush dragon. You gasped dramatically, holding it up for him.

“Look at this, Rustyn! Your first dragon! Say thank you to Aunty Brooke.”

Drew chuckled.

“He’s going to love that. I can already tell.”

“Speaking of gifts,”

Drew added, standing up to retrieve a bag from under the tree,

“Rustyn has a little something for everyone, too.”

He began handing out small, thoughtfully wrapped presents you had both prepared. Each gift had been chosen with care, personalized ornaments for the grandparents, matching scarves for the aunts and uncles, and even a little handmade card from Rustyn (with your help, of course).

The room is now fill with nothing but with laughter and gratitude as the gifts were opened.

Soon, the smell of roasted turkey and warm bread wafted in from the dining room. Everyone gathered around the beautifully set table, the centerpiece adorned with holly and candles. Drew helped you into your seat before settling into his own, Rustyn still securely strapped in his baby carrier.

As plates were passed and glasses were raised, Rustyn began to fuss, his face scrunching up as he let out a small cry.

“Oops, someone’s hungry,”

Your mom observed with a gentle smile.

You started to rise from your seat, but Drew placed a hand on your arm, his voice calm and reassuring.

“Babe, I’ve got this. You eat, I’ll calm him down.”

You shook your head with a soft smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll feed him. You should enjoy your food too.”

Drew nodded, helping you unbuckle the baby carrier. He handed Rustyn over carefully, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that made your heart flutter.

“Let me at least save your plate,” he said, his eyes warm.

You carried Rustyn to the living room, where the lights were softer and the atmosphere quieter which really help Rustyn calm down.

Sitting on the couch, you cradled him in your arms as you began nursing. The soft light of the Christmas tree lit the room, and the crackle sound of the fireplace added to the cozy ambiance.

About fifteen minutes later, Drew appeared in the doorway, holding your plate, now freshly refilled with warm food. A glass of warm water was balanced in his other hand.

“You didn’t think I’d let you miss Christmas dinner, did you?”

He teased, a playful grin on his face. He plopped down on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs and setting the plate on his lap.

“Now, open up.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you,”

He countered, spearing a piece of turkey with his fork and holding it up to your lips.

You rolled your eyes but leaned forward to take a bite.

“You know, I could’ve waited until later.”

“And miss the chance to pamper my wife? Never,” he said, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

Rustyn, now full and content, gave a soft coo, his tiny fingers clutching at the fabric of your sweater. You glanced down at him, your heart swelling with love, before looking back at Drew.

“I think you’re spoiling us both,” you murmured.

Drew’s grin softened into something more tender.

“You two deserve it. Every bit of it.”

After dinner and more chit chat, the family gathered once again in the living room, this time for games and stories. Rustyn, now awake and in a playful mood, was passed around from grandparent to grandparent, each one marveling at his tiny hands and infectious smile.

Brooke pulled out her phone to snap a picture of Drew holding Rustyn, who was tugging at the festive Santa hat on Drew’s head.

“That’s definitely going on the family Christmas card,” she said, laughing.

By the evening, Rustyn had fallen asleep in Drew’s arms, his little head resting against Drew’s chest. You sat beside them on the couch, your head leaning against Drew’s shoulder as you watched the twinkling lights of the tree.

“Merry Christmas, Drew,” you whispered, your voice soft with emotion.

He turned his head, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N. I don’t think it gets better than this.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you reached for his hand.

“Thank you, for being such an amazing husband. And an amazing dad.”

He squeezed your hand, his gaze dropping to Rustyn’s peaceful face.

“Thank you for making me both.”

Drew tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss filled with all the love and promises of the years to come.

[demonic0angel]

Young Justice hanging out at Fenton Works, and meeting the Fenton Family. For whatever reason you choose.

Wonder Girl coughed lightly. “Uhm. It’s okay if we hide in here, right?”

Spirit nodded, as she guided her friends to her parents’ house. “Yeah, it’ll be okay. My parents should be home, but it’s alright, they’ll help us.” Without hesitation, she threw the doors open and called it, “Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

Two people popped their heads out of the kitchen window and beamed. “Dani!” A woman cooed. She was wearing a turquoise hazmat suit and cheerfully holding a turkey. “I didn’t know you were going to visit home!”

The man next to her, who was wearing an orange hazmat suit, grinned at them and then quickly ran off, calling, “We didn’t get enough food! Wait here! I’ll get another turkey!”

“Get three!” Dani’s mom called before she ushered everyone in. Impulse had already rushed inside and was inspecting everything enthusiastically, but she didn’t even seem to care. “Aww, are these your friends, Dani? They look a little bloody— is that normal?”

It was Superboy who answered respectfully, “We’re sorry for intruding, ma’am. Uh, we were nearby due to an interdimensional demon and we needed a place to lay low for a while and recover. If that’s okay, ma’am.”

Dani’s mom beamed. “Oh, that’s perfectly fine! I’m so glad my baby girl has friends! Jazz and Danny never bring their friends around anymore. They’ve all moved out, you see, so we’ve been feeling a bit of empty nest syndrome. Come in, we’ll feed you and you can all rest!”

Everyone gave each other relieved looks and then thanked Dani’s mom who waved it off, pushing them into the bathroom to wash their hands and the blood off. Dani immediately set out to patch everyone up, grinning all the while as they were all squished into the tiny bathroom.

“Your mom seems nice,” Anita said. She looked vaguely shocked by everything.

“Yeah, she and Dad adopted me and Dan even when they didn’t need to,” Dani said. She quickly slapped a bandaid onto Slobo’s arm, who was already healed from his regeneration abilities, before she moved onto Red Robin, who was quiet and still masked.

Cassie asked, “Would we be a bother? I know my mom would be furious if we ever came to her like this.”

“Nah. They’re ghost hunters and Danny is a hero too, remember? They know what it’s like to raise heroes, so it’s fine.”

Dani cheerfully patched them all up and then they were quickly seated at the dinner table, where Dani’s dad had already came back with three more turkeys and a whole bunch of other groceries, quickly whipping up a feast for their impromptu guests.

“We should visit more often if we get to eat all of this every time,” Slobo said with a grin.

“You really don’t need to do this,” Cassie said, looking guilty. “It’s enough to just let us rest. We can’t finish all of this food!”

“I can!” All of the boys chorused and received the nastiest glare from their leader for their exclamation. They all smiled at her in varying levels of sheepishness.

Dani’s mom beamed. “It’s no trouble at all! You kiddos can eat, we’ll take care of the demons for you! Oh, and you, ghost-girl-that’s-not-my-daughter! We have food for you too!”

Suzie’s eyes widened. “You do?”

Dani smiled brightly. “Told you they’re the best! C’mon! Let’s eat!”

As they ate, Dani’s parents geared up in more guns and weapons before marching out the door.

“Remember to wash the dishes!” Dani’s dad said. “There’s brownies and ice cream in the fridge! Heat up the brownies slowly in the toaster oven! The microwave is contaminated again, so don’t use it until we disinfect it.”

“Okay! Got it, dad. Thanks again! Good luck!”

Red Robin leaned in close to Bart, who was chowing down noisily. “Is this what having attentive, present, and supportive parents feels like?”

[mywritersmind]

UNCONVENTIONAL - LN4

summary : In which trying to make it home for thanksgiving fails and a cute british driver feels bad.

listen up : no warnings just cuteness! happy thanksgiving to all my americans <33 im thankful for YOU🫵 lando norris x american!driver!reader

word count : 1968

⋆༺

I groan out loud, dropping my phone onto the jet’s seat. “We’re stuck.” Lando sits up from his position across two seats, and frowns.

“Shit.” I look outside of the planes window, seeing the snow and fighting back tears. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not even december! Snow should not be here!” I wipe my eyes. I know Lando feels bad and I'm not making the situation worse by crying. But I’m having a hard time today because I'm supposed to be with my family.

Lando offered me and some other drivers a ride to Qatar for the next grand prix. Thanksgiving happened to fall the day before media day so I thought I could stop by my parents house and leave that night.

I never particularly loved Thanksgiving, but now that i’m traveling so much because of work, I've learned how much I truly can miss my loved ones.

Lando bites his lip as I sit back down and pull the blanket over me. The pilot informed us that we won’t be getting in the air for a few hours which means we have to go straight to the track instead of seeing my family.

I take a breath, “It’s okay. I appreciate you trying.” I hate crying in front of the guys, even if he is my friend. I hate it because it just plays into the whole emotional woman thing, and even though Lando is one of my best friends, right now I can’t help it.

Lando sits across from me, nudging his foot against mine, “How about we have thanksgiving here?” My head shoots in his direction as he puts on a small smile, “I don’t know a lot about it and I know I'm not your family… but I can try to be a substitute.”

I swallow, wiping my eyes again before I cross my my arms, “How would we even do that?”

I did not expect Lando to take my words as a competition. Still, thirty minutes later I'm sat with a full course meal spread out on the tiny table in between seats. There’s no huge turkey or array of pies, instead we have chicken wraps and fries. We have chips, popcorn, pesto pasta, orange chicken, a bagel, salad, and bread. A bottle of champagne sits next to me as Lando sits down.

His smile is wide as he looks down at the spread, “Good enough?”

“How did you…” I shake my head, laughing, “Yeah it’s good enough! Lando, this is really sweet.”

“It’s my first thanksgiving, I had to make it delicious, even if it is all airport food.” He shrugs and starts pulling things onto his plate. My legs are crossed on the comfortable seat and as I watch him pick his meal, I smile.

I bite into the chicken wrap that’s actually delicious. Lando taps on his phone before music starts playing over the speakers.

I smile at him as he chews, “So… what do Americans usually do on thanksgiving?”

I shrug and sip some champagne, “Eat, gossip, be thankful?”

“Okay! Let’s gossip then. Sounds easy enough.” Hes ridiculously committed to the bit and I adore him for it, “Did you know Franco’s signed with RB?” I start coughing, practically choking on my food.

“What!?” I scream.

Lando’s laughing now, “No I don’t actually know, I just couldn’t think of anything else.” I kick him under the table as he gasps.

“That’s evil! I got so excited.” I’m laughing with him now, our food picked apart and a mess in front of us. “What are you thankful for?”

He thinks for a moment, a curl falling into his face that makes my stomach flip a little. “Mmm… My family and friends.”

“That’s too generic. It’s thanksgiving- get deep, Norris.” He gives me a slight smirk before nodding.

“I’m thankful that the championship talk is over. I’m thankful for Chicken wraps.” He holds his up, proudly as I roll my eyes. “And I'm thankful for you.”

I’m a tad bit shocked, “For me?” I expect him to say something stupid or flirty, but he’s dead serious.

“You’re a really good person. I like being around you and for that, I'm grateful.” He raises his glass and I hit it with mine, “Now go on, brag about me.”

I roll my eyes, back to smiling humorously, “I’m thankful that I'm not alone right now.” His eyes don’t stray away from mine, “And I’m thankful for snow. Even if it’s pissing me off, it’s very pretty.”

We both look out the window in sync, the snow still falling. The runway is fully white, matching the trees and wing of the plane.

When I look back at Lando, he’s already looking at me. His face is relaxed, his freckles prominent and curls perfect. “Do you want to go?” I say suddenly as his expression turns confused.

“We can’t yet, we still have like two hours.”

A smile tugs at my lips, “I mean outside.”

He looks hesitant, “It’s freezing.”

I stand and grab my suitcase, unzipping it and pulling out my puffer jacket at record speed, “Did I mention every thanksgiving, something really random but really fun happens?” It’s true, for some reason this holiday brings out funny stories. “You’re not scared of some snow, are you Norris?” I step closer, narrowing my eyes.

He stands, grabbing his own jacket, “I’m just saying, don’t come complaining when you’re freezing and wet.”

“Me!?” I scoff, zipping up my jacket, “You’re the one who needs four layers for a sunny day.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m freezing my ass off but I would rather become a human icicle than tear my eyes away from her smile. She’s giggling and running into the snow, twirling around as snowflakes fall into her hair.

“Don’t slip, Y/n!” I yell after her as she turns around, the biggest smile on her face.

Her hand goes to wipe the hair that’s being blown in her face, snow falling around her, “Come catch me, Norris.”

I roll my eyes and hurry over to her as she laughs and dances around. I can’t help but laugh with her, it’s fucking contagious.

She sticks her tongue out, leaning her head back to catch snowflakes. Y/n is so perfectly caught in the haze of the snow and light peaking through the clouds that she looks like an angel.

She pokes my cheek and holds onto my jacket as if she’s about to fall. “Your nose is red.”

“You should get a job in detective work if the whole driving thing doesn’t work out…” She scoffs loudly and punches me in the arm.

Unfortunately, she’s stronger than she looks and because the ground is icy, we’re both falling seconds later.

She lands on top of me, laughing so hard that she’s crying, “Fuck! Are you okay!?”

“Like you care!” I sit up, holding her tightly still.

She laughs and plops down next to me, laying her head back and arms out. “Oh no-”

“Angel time, Norris!” She screams at me.

“I’m going to become snow!”

She doesn’t respond, just stretches her arms and legs out and waves them back and forth to make the snow part below her.

Something about her is my weakness and I honestly can’t complain when she looks so happy. I join her, my hair getting soaked and her laughs making me smile.

I make my angel in peace as snow floats down from the sky, landing on my face. I hear the rustle of her jacket as she turns her head to me, “Thank you.”

I smile softly, examining her face and the snowflakes that melt as soon as they touch her skin. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that I'm not your family.”

She lets out a breath, “You’re my found family. That’s close enough.” her words make my heart beat faster, “Even if you are British and your first thanksgiving was on a grounded plane.”

“I wouldn’t wish it any other way. Although, next year we should try for a more friendsgiving approach. Maybe with the whole grid?” Her smile grows as she looks up at the sky.

“I'm very down for that.” As i’m mentally tracing her side profile in her mind, a voice and light comes very loud.

“You two!” I realize we’re in trouble instantly and stand up as fast as I can, slipping all over the place as the voice gets louder and the flashlight shines directly towards us.

Y/n is trying to get up with me but she’s laughing and slipping so it’s significantly harder. I grab her hand and we make a run for it, up the stairs and into the warm cabin. The door shuts behind us and I lean my head against the wall, sighing in relief of not being caught making snow angels.

Y/n is breathing heavily across from me, a smile permanent on her face as she looks at me. Her hair is wet and I'm sure mine is the same. I can’t feel my hands and I couldn’t care less.

“You look like a popsicle!” Y/n takes her hands and wraps them over mine, getting close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin.

I’d like to pretend that what happened next was a symptom of my cold state, but I’ve never been a good liar.

As soon as she looks up at me, her eyes big and glassy, I lean down and kiss her. Her lips are warm despite her cold hands gripping my own and as soon as she pulls back, I swear.

“Fuck. I’m sorry-” I didn’t even ask! God, I'm an asshole and now I'm completely stuck. Would I die if I ran outside and hid in the woods?

But she doesn’t look mad. She looks… pleased? Her hand slips out of my reach and moves to the side of my neck, “Don’t be.”

And then she kisses me. I think I blackout because I have no clue how long we’ve been kissing but I do know that I'm now completely defrosted and warm.

“You okay?” I whisper as Y/n pulls away.

She nods, “Thanks for kissing me.”

I laugh, “You’re very welcome. Thanks for kissing me back.”

She smiles again backs up a bit, fiddling with her rings, “So… was that just a thanksgiving thing or a way to warm up or…?”

I’m smiling big now, moving my hands under her jacket as she squirms because of the temperature, “I’ve been waiting for that to happen so if you limit me to once a year, i’ll be pretty sad.”

She nods, biting back a smile, “Good to know!” She slips away from me and pulls off her jacket, sitting in a seat and pulling her blanket around her shoulders.

I slowly walk so I’m in front of her again. She’s smiling at the floor, motioning me to come sit, “There’s one more thanksgiving tradition I do every year.”

She pulls out her ipad and scoots closer to me, I feel like i’m dreaming. “And that is…?”

She clears her throat, still avoiding eye contact.

“The Thanksgiving episode of Gossip Girl!” She starts rattling on about the backstories and starts the episode but i’m still stuck on her face and how her eyes won’t meet mine.

“Y/n…” I say it softly, bringing my hand to her chin and turning her face to look at me. She’s blushing. I don’t think I've ever seen her blush.

“Mhm?” She sounds like a mouse.

I brush her wet hair out of her face and press a soft kiss against her cheek, “I really like thanksgiving.” She just smiles and nestles into my side, my arm around her.

She lets me have some of the blanket and whispers, “I really do too.”

[flickering-nightfall]

Made these immediately after finishing the first ending, but I wanted to wait until more people caught up to that point before I posted it. Haha

It's a good thing I waited - at this point there's been a lot of people saying the shadows in the shop aren't the best indicator of height. Even within the region itself, giant ancients (or tiny everything else) doesn't make sense - the shelves and masks in the shop, the path to the void baths, etc. A friend (and others like skybristle) suggested that the scaling could be so off because Spinning Top (the echo's) memories of being a child skewed the perspective somehow.

I wasn't sure, because AU doesn't change for Watcher after Spinning Top has passed on, but given the rot can't spread to Ancient Urban (or Terrace or Daemon), it's possible that place really is not as physical as it seems? In any case, that would keep things open-ended without taking away from the powerful impression of the scene.

The scale was extremely cool, but if taken literally, I feel like it kind of detracts from the grandiosity of other regions. The wall to these ancients would be a rock climbing route... And the average region a stroll around the block... (at least if we take the space we see slugcat traverse literally, anyways)... waist-height subterranean cargo trains, haha, um...

Still - iterator puppets being literal hand (or finger. they're so small) puppets is a pretty novel concept. This size ancient could crush a scavenger or a lizard underfoot without really thinking about it. Vultures are turkey-sized and Rain Deer are spindly rabbits. Sky Whales aren't even as long as those ancients are tall.

Here's a height estimate to make sense within the shop:

Watcher (and Spinning Top) sized up to match the toy art:

This is how big I've been headcanoning them. (To be clear, I'm not pushing this size as "correct" - it's just what I've been working with.) They can actually fit in the subterranean train carts this way:

I think this is the tallest they can get to reasonably fit through the void bath path. (With my headcanon size as well)

Echo comparisons for fun. Not all echoes are the same size, but Spinning Top is smaller than the rest. (And also none of these make sense with any the proposed sizes if they're taken literally, lol)

And a few more I snagged while I was working on second ending stuff (Stormy Coast, Torrential Railways, Shattered Terrace):

Yeah you get the point.

I was really excited and emotional when I first realized what was going on, standing under the light of that manhole. I had joked about Watcher going back in time to meet ancients, back when I was guessing what the campaign could be about, but I didn't think it would actually happen. And I really like a lot of the new stuff for them, in terms of background pieces and mentions from Spinning Top.

Cool reveal - now I've got brain worms! I'm thinking about them more and more...

[batbusiness-schooldropout]

Jason: MAKE ROOM PEOPLE!

Bruce: What are you doing? Why are you wearing a safety vest?

Jason: I'm the Bat-OSHA inspector

Bruce: Did Duke put you up to this?

Jason: No, I volunteered. Now if you could step aside sir, I'm trying to do my job

Bruce: I'm not going to be able to stop you, am I?

Jason: Nope. Now let's see, you've got literal bats flying around. Stalagmites and stalactites everywhere, that's a tripping hazard. Nowhere near enough handrails. No marked emergency exists. With all this moisture in the air, this place is basically a brothel for mold. I'm not sure what the proper enclosures for a cow and turkey are, but I know a cave ain't it. And it's that a child working in a box I see?

Bruce: Tim is in the "anti-villian enrichment enclosure" that you made for him!

Tim: Hi Jason!

Jason: Hi Tiny!- I hope you know keeping children in boxes is something not tolerated by Bat-OSHA.

Bruce: You put him in there not 30 minutes ago!

Jason: Always an excuse for everything.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I'm highly considering getting some pumpkins, carving them, and tossing the pumpkin guts in our kind-of compost (just where we've been throwing yard clippings) and to see what happens.

If it goes the way I hope, my husband will want to murder me come spring / summer :D

Protip: Get those super-tiny pumpkins, they're called Jack-be-Little I think?

They've got a lower germination-from-seed rate so you'll only have a couple hundred seedlings instead of a couple million.

They also mature early so come like, late august, you can start picking the first mature fruits and cooking them as single-serving squash dishes.

One is a perfect amount of vegetable for a side to steak or turkey, two make a pumpkin pie.

I cut them into wedges, toss with olive oil and garlic/herb seasoning and bake them on a sheet at 420 for ten minutes, flip, and then another 10 at 420 and it's only a 50% chance if they actually make it to the table.

If you end up with more than you can eat (Likely, with the compost method) they keep extremely well pretty much until next spring when the next round sprouts

[bogleech]

I'm trying to pick the meat off this turkey I cooked 4 days ago (they were on sale after some sort of holiday) and it got me thinking about the beautiful efficiency of a maggot again. No limbs, no hard parts, not even the hard head casing seen in other insect larvae, just a soft cone with rings of grippy spines and a tiny microscopic fanged mouth like the whole animal is just an organic drill. A little living drill that can get between the tiniest gaps, even slip inside broken bones and eat the marrow. And that got me thinking of like the animorphs or beast boy or d&d polymorphing and how decadent it'd be to take maggot form when you've got a whole boston rotisserie to yourself or something. But then I started wondering....what happens when you change back?? Are you hungry again because you're big again and only ate a maggot size amount of food? But what if you wait long enough that the maggot body actually processed some of those nutrients? (Not recommended under animorphs rules I have to say) The magic is already translating the maggot's body back into yours so are the effects of its metabolism translated back to you or what? Should I not have skipped my adderall today and if you morph back into the maggot again are you back to feeling full or are you hungry again because the food energy you ate was lost immediately in your larger human metabolism? If so can you just infinitely enjoy a meal forever and ever in theory by morphing back and forth between the maggot and human? The maggot can even eat rotten material without getting sick so could you just lock down an entire buffet and just keep shifting back and forth until you've eaten every single last scrap of deliciousness in the whole place for like 6 months straight?

[aurorawritestoescape]

STOLEN LUNCH

Dave York x f!reader || 800 words

Summary: Dave steals your lunch.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, lil bit of fluff, enemies to lovers with possible history, mean but sweet Dave idk, spitting?, pussy pronouns ofc, public but not caught, rough sex, unprotected piv, creampie.

a/n: I got inspired by this poll by @sin-djarin and @sizzlingcloudmentality ‘s thoughts about Dave and wrote this little naughty thing. Thank you, Becca and Daphne!💞 barely edited, kisses to @milla-frenchy for looking it over😘 I hope you’ll enjoy this drabble <3 dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

“Not again!” You growl and shut the lunchroom fridge with a loud thump, making the poor thing shake and clank.

You turn around on your heels and stare at the culprit of your anger.

Dave is leaning against the counter, holding YOUR turkey sandwich in his giant hand and chewing, his clean-shaved jaw shifting languidly.

“What’s your fucking problem?” You hiss, stomping closer to him, an image of fury and rage- your brows furrowed, your fists clenched.

Dave seems to give zero fucks. He looks relaxed, pleased even, as he’s destroying your lunch. The lunch he’s stolen from you. Again.

“The turkey’s dry. ‘s disgusting.”

“You don’t look disgusted,” you spit back at the man, hyperventilating from anger.

“‘s cause I’m looking at you, kitten. It helps.”

Your breath hitches but you try to fight the way your heart flutters and your pussy clenches at his flirting.

Instead you roll your eyes and step closer to him, lowering your voice as you speak,

“What if I told you that I spat in the middle of this damn sandwich as I was making it, huh?”

You sneer at him, thinking that you might have won this one.

Dave’s brows shoot up and he looks at the half eaten sandwich in his giant paw and then at you.

You widen your eyes and nod a few times, signaling him that you’re not joking.

Dave’s dark eyes are set on yours, they’re challenging you, as he brings the sandwich to his lips and takes a huge bite. He starts chewing and then moans. The fucker moans.

Your face softens, your anger evaporates and something warm and wet fills your core. A bite of your lip and your heart eyes are clear signs of your surrender. You’ve lost. Again.

His thick fingers grab the back of your neck and he pushes you forward, bending you over the copier.

“Dave,” you whine, as he pulls your skirt up and your tights and panties down. “Someone might come in.”

“So?”

You hear his nonchalant voice behind you, the clanking of his belt, the rustling of his clothes, and then his hot cock lands heavy on your asscheek.

”Keep still, kitten, or it’ll hurt.”

You mewl and relax your muscles, knowing that it’s coming. He pushes his length in without hesitation, taking and stretching you in one go, and you bite your palm that’s covering your whimpering mouth, when his tip hits your cervix.

“Yeahhh, that’s it. You suck at cooking but this cunt…Fuck, she’s the best.”

“Fuck youuu…” Your groan turns into a moan as Dave starts fucking you raw, his thrusts slow at first, but he picks up the pace fast, and the sounds of skin-on-skin slapping fill the little room.

For a few moments it’s nothing but lustful growls and moans, until he grabs your shoulders and pulls you to his firm chest, his hot palm around your neck, his fingers bruising your soft hip.

Dave groans in your ear, fanning your cheek with his wet breath,

“How’s that feel, kitten? I took your lunch, now I’m taking your pussy. What else are you gonna give me on a silver platter, huh? What if I steal that big client of yours?”

“I hate you,” you croak, wiggling in his arms, but both of you know it’s just a play. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, pierced by his stiff cock, in the tiny room that smells like sex and desire. Dave tightens his grip on your body and whispers against your temple,

“I won’t if you kiss me right now.”

You hear softness in his voice and you turn your head to gawk at him.

His eyes are blown out, shiny with lust and want, but there’s something else behind them. Something vulnerable and real.

“Turn me around.” Your voice is barely audible, unsure, but he hears you.

He pulls out and you hiss but then moan, as he spins you around and his lips crash against yours, his eager tongue sliding into your mouth.

Not breaking the kiss, Dave lifts you up, and you grab onto him for dear life, as he pushes his length back into your pussy.

He makes you come, moving you up and down his thumping cock, bruising your lips with kisses, leaving hickeys on your delicate skin, and then spills his hot load inside you, his face buried in your neck.

You’re fixing your clothes, both breathing heavily, when he asks,

“How about I steal your dessert at a restaurant tonight?”

“You’re such an asshole,” you throw at him with a smile and walk out of the door.

You can’t wait for the evening to come.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name

Tagging @bergamote-catsandbooks bc of their comment 🌸

[revelboo]

if you found the free time could you please continue that cat scenario? It was so adorable🥺

No rush, you're already feeding us real good :3

Sure!

Trickster Pt 2

Various TFP x Reader

• Staring at the tiny, mewling kitten in your lap, you watch the cat that your big, dragon husband became pick up your other son and pad over to drop the second kitten in your lap. And Predaking just looks expectantly up at you with a rumbling mrr of noise before rearing up, front paws on your shoulder as he meows. He’s a cat. Kind of. He’s cat sized and cat shaped. He’s furry. It’s like looking at a squirrel and calling it a horse, though. Cats don’t look like that, you just don’t have anything closer to equate him to. Meowing louder as if to say snap out of it, you shudder and cup your hands around your sparklings. Kittens. You’re pretty sure you’re about to have a nervous breakdown.

• Laughing hysterically as the white, red, and green cat that was your asshole bot yowls and twines about your ankles, trying to climb your pants leg, you make a half-ass attempt to kick him that sends him scurrying, ears back. Have no idea what happened, you’d come out of the abandoned store Wheeljack carries you to and he’d reached for you. Before falling forward, becoming a fluffy little fur ball. Magic? Sci-fi bullshit? You have no idea, but you’re not giving up this opportunity. Striding across the dirt and sand as the sun bakes you, you’re aware of the Wheeljack cat trotting after you, still screeching. Maybe you’ll keep him as a pet. Get him a little collar with a bell. Maybe you’ll get him neutered, too.

• Squirming like a mad thing while making plaintive noises, Dreadwing finally gives up and goes limp in your arms. And you can feel the end of his tail flicking against you as he meows unhappily when you press your face against his soft fur. Don’t know what happened to him, but he’s warm and fluffy and so adorable like this. Pressing a kiss against his head as his ears flatten out, you hear him reluctantly start purring. Because now, you get to take care of him.

• That’s the ugliest, skinniest cat you’ve ever seen. Stretched out on your belly watching it pace around the base of Starscream’s desk, you baby talk it and wonder how it got on the Nemesis. Maybe it’s an experiment that got loose? Cause c it’s not really a cat. Cats don’t look like that. Or maybe the big aliens keep things besides people as pets? Yowling as it stands up on the leg of the desk, claws scraping against the metal, you croon at it and it bares little, sharp teeth to hiss at you. And it looks kind of like your prickly turkey, colored up like him.

• There he is. Arm around the red cat that was Knockout, you bend to pick up the big fluffy hairball that’s Breakdown and he hisses, baring sharp teeth, fur standing on end. “Don’t be that way,” you croon as Knockout just hangs there, ears back and resigned. “It’s not like I’m going to give you a bath, Breaky.” Though chucking him in your little cup you use as a tub would be so satisfying. “You don’t think I hold grudges, do you?” And he’s running from you, apparently knowing that you do indeed hold grudges.

• “Hey! No, bad Shockwave!” Apparently whatever just happened to him hasn’t done anything to his libido. Even as a freakish, one eyed purple thing that might generously be called a cat, he’s still horny. Trying to hump your leg when you’d stretched out to lay among your blankets and his claws are out as you twist and drag him to you. Hearing his disgruntled growling as you sit up and hold him out at arms length, his ears flattened back and tail swishing. “How can you still be horny?” Settling him in your lap, you scratch behind an ear and he purrs, stretching out.

• Numbly cradling your mewling baby’s warmth to yourself, you watch Megatron clawing, jumping on, and yowling at the staff. Trying to undo whatever it is he’d done. Catifying himself and your son. All of the Cybertronians on the Nemesis if you have to guess. The one that was Starscream took off somewhere, fur on end after Megatron had smacked the crap out of him with a paw, hissing like this was the Seeker’s fault instead of his. And your son mews, mouth opening against the inside of your wrist, all wobbly and eyes shut like a newborn kitten. Curling yourself around him, you’re aware that you’re trapped on the arm of the throne, that you can’t get down without help because it’s too high and your idiot mate can’t figure out how to fix this.

Previous

[honeydippedfiction]

What is Joe doing for Angel for Mother’s Day?

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mom’s out there by any definition!!! Now this man went all out and god I love how he loves Angel

main navigation | reqs | table of contents

Joe Burrow x Angel

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

The scent of cinnamon, maple, and fresh coffee drifted into the master bedroom like a gentle promise. Angel stirred, one arm stretching out over the comforter as sunlight peeked through the linen curtains. She blinked lazily, only half-awake—until she heard a familiar set of footsteps just outside the door, accompanied by soft baby babbling.

“Alright, kiddo,” Joe whispered. “Let’s try not to spill anything this time.”

Angel Burrow stirred to the sound of soft footsteps just outside the bedroom door. Her first instinct was to glance at the baby monitor on her nightstand, but it wasn’t there. Her brow furrowed slightly—until the door creaked open and the familiar voice of her husband whispered into the quiet morning.

“Shhh, Zariyah, we’re about to surprise Mommy.”

She smiled before she even opened her eyes.

Joe entered the room carefully, balancing a wooden breakfast tray in one hand and their six-month-old daughter in the other. The tray was an endearing display: fluffy pancakes shaped like imperfect hearts, golden scrambled eggs, a few slices of turkey bacon, and a short glass of orange juice—pulp, the way Angel liked it. A tiny mason jar with a handful of wildflowers added a delicate touch, clearly picked from the backyard. And nestled in Joe’s other arm was Zariyah, wide-eyed and bundled in a soft pink onesie that read Mommy’s Girl in white script.

Angel let out a soft laugh, blinking against the morning light. “You two look like trouble.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, babe.” Joe said with a grin as he walked toward the bed. “Breakfast, made with love and at least one diaper break.” 

Angel reached out to cradle Zariyah, who immediately squealed in delight and latched onto a lock of her mother’s curls. “Thank you,” she said, looking between them both, her eyes already glassy. “You did all this?”

Joe shrugged modestly. “Well, Zariyah helped with the pancakes. Sort of. She supervised.”

Angel laughed again, the rich sound filling the bedroom. “She’s got a great eye for symmetry.”

Joe set the tray down on her lap, leaned in to kiss her cheek, and settled beside her as they sat together in the comfort of their king-sized bed, sunlight pouring in through the gauzy white curtains. Angel took a bite of the pancakes, closing her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

“Joe, these are good.”

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like… restaurant good.”

“Okay, now you’re just being nice,” he said with a chuckle, brushing a crumb off her cheek. “But I’ll take the win. But I had help,” Joe replied, tapping Zariyah’s foot. “Our little sous-chef has very strong pancake opinions.”

The rest of the morning melted away in a kind of lazy bliss. They read a few of Zariyah’s favorite books aloud—Joe performing each character with dramatic flair that had their daughter giggling and flapping her arms in excitement. Angel leaned into him, heart full, watching Joe make silly faces while bouncing Zariyah gently on his knee.

By mid-morning, Angel stood in the hallway, bouncing Zariyah gently as Joe disappeared into the nursery with an odd sense of urgency. When he emerged, he was holding a small gift bag and his phone.

“Okay,” he said, stepping forward and brushing a kiss across her temple. “Time to get dressed.”

“For what?” Angel asked, suspicious. “What’s going on?”

“You, my queen,” he said, with that cheeky grin she’d fallen in love with back in Baton Rouge, “have a spa appointment at noon. Monica’s picking you up in twenty.”

Angel’s face twisted into a half-smile, half-frown. “Wait… what?”

Joe handed her the bag. Inside was a plush robe, a new lavender-scented candle, and a handwritten card. To my favorite girl. Take a break today. Let me show you how much you mean to us. Signed with a doodle of a football, a heart, and Zariyah’s name scrawled in Joe’s handwriting.

“I can’t just leave her,” Angel protested instinctively, her voice dropping to a whisper as Zariyah nestled against her chest. “You’ve never had her for more than, like, two hours on your own.”

Joe raised his eyebrows. “That’s not true. What about the time you went to Target and I—”

“You FaceTimed me three times.”

“Okay, fair,” he admitted, smiling. “But I’ve got it this time. Bottles are prepped, diapers are stocked, and I’ve even got Sesame Street queued up just in case.”

Angel hesitated, looking down at her daughter’s round, sleepy face. “I don’t know…”

Joe stepped closer, wrapping his arms around both of them. “Babe, you give everything to this family—every single day. Let me take the reins today. Go relax, gossip with Monica, do that eucalyptus steam thing you love. You deserve it.”

She sighed, finally relenting. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’m a quarterback,” he said confidently. “I read defenses for a living. I think I can handle some spit-up. She’s in good hands. I’ve got this. Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “Monica won’t take no for an answer.”

That turned out to be true.

Twenty minutes later, Monica’s car pulled into the driveway. Angel kissed Zariyah at least five times and Joe even more before finally backing out the front door.

“Spa day, baby!” Monica shouted from the car window twenty minutes later. “Let’s go!”

“Call me if she cries too long,” she said as she walked backwards toward the car.

“I will.”

“If she doesn’t nap—”

“She will.”

“And text me pictures!”

“I already took ten,” Joe said, waving his phone in the air. “Go! Your robe is calling.”

Once the door closed, Joe turned to Zariyah, who blinked up at him in wide-eyed confusion.

“Alright, kid,” he said, shifting her to his hip. “It’s just you and me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

The spa lobby smelled like eucalyptus and soft citrus—clean, calming, luxurious. Angel felt her shoulders drop the moment she stepped inside, her stress melting beneath the scent alone. The lighting was soft and golden, like sunset through linen, and tranquil music drifted from hidden speakers in the walls. Every surface gleamed without being sterile, and the gentle hush in the air made her feel like she had stepped into another world—one where she wasn’t “Mom” or “babe” or “can you hold her for a second?” She was just her.

An attendant greeted them with a kind smile and handed each of them a tall glass of cucumber water chilled to perfection. Angel accepted hers gratefully, the coolness sliding down her throat and instantly refreshing her. Within minutes, she and Monica had changed into plush white robes and were led into a private lounge with two large reclining chairs and small porcelain bowls filled with warm, rose-petal-infused water.

Their feet slipped into the soak with a satisfying sigh.

“This,” Angel murmured as she leaned back, her head against the cushioned headrest, “is heaven.”

“I told you,” Monica said beside her, already reaching for a handful of almonds from the snack tray. “It’s what you deserve. You’ve been Mom-ing like a champ.”

Angel chuckled, her eyes fluttering closed. “You say that like it’s an Olympic event.”

“Girl, it is,” Monica replied. “And you? Gold medal. Easily. You’ve got that whole Beyoncé-as-a-mom energy. Like, you carry that baby like a goddess and still somehow manage to look fly doing it.”

Angel let out a deep laugh, one that bubbled up from her chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m right,” Monica said, grinning. “Joe’s lucky.”

The compliment warmed Angel’s chest more than the herbal tea the spa attendant poured for them next. “He’s been amazing. He really went all out this morning.”

“Yeah, I saw those pancakes on your story. That man’s a keeper.”

“More than a keeper,” Angel said softly, her thoughts momentarily drifting back to the way Joe looked that morning—sleep-rumpled hair, one arm wrapped around their baby girl, tray in hand like it was second nature. She smiled to herself. “He’s my whole heart.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

They transitioned from their foot soak to a private massage suite, where a pair of massage therapists welcomed them with gentle hands and warm smiles. Angel lay face-down on a heated table as lavender oil filled the air, the stress melting from her shoulders with each deep, practiced stroke.

She felt herself drift somewhere between sleep and waking—until she was gently turned over and treated to a glowing facial that made her skin feel like silk. By the time they entered the steam room, clad in towels and slippers, Angel felt reborn.

“This place should be illegal,” she mumbled, sipping more cucumber water as steam kissed her face.

“Right?” Monica leaned back against the tiled wall, her dark curls wrapped in a towel turban, her skin glistening under the humidity. “Now that your body’s relaxed… let’s talk about the real stuff.”

Angel narrowed her eyes playfully. “Monica, don’t you start.”

Monica smirked. “So… you and Joe. Still keeping things spicy?”

Angel groaned, dragging the towel over her face. “Monica.”

“What?” she said innocently. “I’m just asking. You have a baby now. Your body’s doing all kinds of amazing post-partum warrior things. I just want to make sure my best friend is still getting her grown-woman time.”

Angel let out a slow laugh, rolling her eyes but amused. “We find our moments.”

“Mm-hmm.” Monica raised an eyebrow. “That means no. You finding moments is not the same as making moments.”

Angel gave a knowing smile. “I don’t need to schedule sex like a dentist appointment.”

“But sometimes you do!” Monica insisted. “A little premeditated sexy energy? That’s self-care.”

Angel shook her head, still smiling. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you,” Monica said, standing up and stretching, “are coming with me to do a little shopping. Just trust me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

After their spa treatments, Angel and Monica emerged into the golden late afternoon air looking and feeling like royalty. Their skin glowed from facials, their muscles were loose from the massages, and their nails were freshly polished—Angel had chosen a glossy nude shade that made her hands look effortlessly elegant, while Monica rocked a bold red that matched her energy perfectly.

They’d both had their hair blown out in soft, voluminous waves, and Monica had already declared they were “Too fine to go straight home.”

So, naturally, they made a detour to the mall.

Angel didn’t protest. It had been a long time since she’d strolled a shopping center without a stroller or a diaper bag strapped to her shoulder. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t rushing to get in and out, wasn’t scanning every store for a changing station or calculating how long she had before Zariyah needed her again. It felt indulgent. It felt free.

As they walked past storefronts, arms swinging, Angel sipped from a fresh smoothie while Monica window-shopped with laser precision.

Then Monica stopped in her tracks.

“Hell yes,” she said, eyes zeroing in on a boutique tucked between a high-end jewelry store and a minimalist shoe shop. The windows were tastefully dim, with mannequins clad in silk and lace, and a gold-lettered sign above the entrance that simply read: Velour.

Angel followed her gaze, nearly choking on her smoothie. “No. Monica. No way.”

“Absolutely yes,” Monica said, already steering her toward the door.

“Monica,” Angel hissed, digging her heels in as they reached the entrance, “I just had a baby six months ago. My body is still adjusting. I’m wearing high-waisted jeans and a nursing bra.”

“And you look like a damn goddess in both,” Monica shot back. “Joe is fine. You are fine. This is Mother’s Day, not Mother Teresa’s day. We’re buying you something that makes you feel dangerous again.”

Angel groaned. “I don’t know if I want to feel dangerous.”

“Yes, you do. You just forgot what it feels like.”

Before Angel could argue, Monica opened the boutique’s glass door and dragged her inside.

Velour was nothing like the loud, flashy lingerie stores they’d frequented in college. It was dimly lit and softly scented, with velvet ottomans, vintage gold mirrors, and racks of silk, lace, and mesh in jewel tones and pastels. There was no blaring pop music or teenage sales assistants. Here, everything whispered seduction.

A stylist approached with a warm smile, complimented their nails, and asked if they were shopping for something special.

“She just became a mom,” Monica said, proudly. “And she’s got a man who worships her. So yes. We’re here for something special.”

The stylist nodded like she understood everything with a single glance. “Say no more.”

Within minutes, Angel was in a private dressing room with a small armful of pieces—some delicate, some bold, some that made her laugh out loud.

“Monica, this is insane,” Angel called through the curtain, holding up a strappy emerald green set that looked more architectural than wearable.

“Try it on!” Monica called back from the plush waiting area. “You don’t have to wear it long.”

Angel rolled her eyes but laughed, then slipped into something more her speed—a deep burgundy lace teddy with sheer panels and scalloped edges. It hugged her curves like it had been tailored for her and revealed just enough to make her feel both powerful and a little shy.

She peeked out of the curtain. “Okay… this one’s kind of... wow.”

From her seat, Monica looked up and immediately grinned. “Oh yeah. He’s gonna need a defibrillator. A full resuscitation. Like, someone call 911 now.”

Angel tried to hide her smile as she turned back to the mirror. She hadn’t seen herself this way in a while—not just sexy, but confident. Beautiful, yes, but in control of her own glow.

She changed back into her jeans, still slightly flushed, and stepped out of the dressing room. As she approached Monica at the checkout counter, she found a sleek black dress draped over her friend’s arm.

“What’s that?” Angel asked suspiciously.

“Your dress for tonight,” Monica said, handing it over. “Figure-hugging, just enough stretch, open back, side slit. Pure elegance with a touch of danger. It’s your whole vibe.”

Angel raised a brow. “You don’t even know what we’re doing tonight.”

“No, but Joe knows. And I know Joe. He’s got something planned,” Monica said, waving her hand dramatically. “And when you walk in wearing this? He’s gonna remember every reason he fell in love with you. Twice.”

Angel took the dress, feeling the buttery fabric between her fingers. “I haven’t worn something like this in a long time.”

“Then it’s overdue,” Monica said, handing her the shopping bag. “Now let’s go get you home so you can make a man fall in love all over again.”

They walked out of the boutique as the sky turned soft with evening light, their laughter trailing behind them like a warm breeze.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

The rest of the day was chaos in slow motion. Zariyah fought her nap tooth and nail, finally falling asleep only after a marathon walk around the backyard in her carrier. Feeding time resulted in more oatmeal on Joe’s hoodie than in her mouth, and a diaper incident during tummy time nearly made him reconsider every life choice.

But when he finally got her settled on his chest for a post-nap snuggle, her tiny fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, Joe knew it was all worth it.

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the house had been tidied, soft jazz hummed through the speakers, and dinner was nearly ready—lemon garlic pasta with roasted vegetables, salad, and a bottle of wine breathing on the counter.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Back home that evening, the front door creaked softly as Angel stepped into the quiet hush of their house. It was warm, peaceful—like the walls themselves had been waiting for her to return. The golden light from the setting sun slipped through the curtains, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. The smell of something savory—garlic, maybe rosemary—lingered in the air, teasing her senses.

From the living room, she heard soft music playing—Sade, smooth and low—and then the unmistakable giggle of her daughter.

Angel smiled before she even saw them.

Joe was on the couch, cradling Zariyah in his arms, her little fists waving happily in the air. They were both in matching gray sweats and T-shirts that read Momma's Our World in pink script. Joe looked up the second she walked in.

“Hey, you two,” Angel said, her smile spreading as she walked closer, already toeing off her shoes.

“Hey, beautiful,” Joe said with that warm grin that still made her stomach flip. He rose to his feet, careful with Zariyah, and leaned in to press a kiss to Angel’s lips—gentle but lingering.

“We missed you.”

“I missed you more,” she murmured, taking their daughter into her arms. Zariyah’s little fingers latched onto her curls instantly, and Angel kissed her chubby cheek. “Did she behave?”

Joe lifted an eyebrow as he flopped back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Mostly. There was one code red diaper situation that may or may not have required two outfit changes and a new set of wipes, but we survived.”

Angel laughed, shifting Zariyah to her hip. “She likes to test your limits.”

“She’s your daughter. Of course she’s a little dangerous.”

They sat together, bodies close, with Zariyah nestled between them. Angel sank into the cushions with a sigh of contentment. The quiet moments like these—the ones with no pressure, no distractions—were her favorite. She leaned her head on Joe’s shoulder as she began recounting her day, the scent of eucalyptus and lemongrass still lingering faintly on her skin.

“Monica dragged me into a steam room and interrogated me about our sex life,” she said casually, grinning.

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “Sounds like Monica.”

“She also insisted I buy lingerie that probably violates multiple federal regulations,” she added, raising an eyebrow.

Joe looked at her sideways, curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

“You’ll see,” she teased, giving him a slow, sly smile.

His mouth curved into a grin. “Now I really can’t wait.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

As the sun dipped lower, the three of them moved into the nursery for bedtime. It had become a rhythm, a quiet routine that grounded them after long days—Joe filling the tiny tub with warm water, Angel picking out a fresh onesie from the dresser. Zariyah kicked her legs happily on the changing table, making baby babble noises as if she too was recounting her day.

Angel scooped her up and undressed her, planting a kiss on her tummy before easing her into the water. Joe knelt beside the tub, gently washing her curls while Angel hummed a lullaby they both knew by heart. The soft splashes, the shared laughter, the love in every movement—it was all part of the sacred rhythm of their life.

After bath time came lotion, pajamas, bottles, and cuddles. Angel rocked Zariyah while Joe dimmed the lights. They stood together over the crib, watching her eyes flutter closed, her chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep.

Angel’s heart felt full to the brim.

“I don’t know how we got so lucky,” she whispered.

Joe kissed the side of her head. “We made our luck.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

After they tucked Zariyah into her crib, both parents lingered for a moment, watching her tiny chest rise and fall in the glow of the soft nightlight. Joe rested a hand on Angel’s back, his palm warm against the silky fabric of her robe, grounding her in the quiet wonder of their little world.

“Still not over how perfect she is,” he whispered.

Angel leaned into him. “Me neither. She’s all you with just enough me to keep her interesting.”

He chuckled, kissed her temple, and gave her a playful swat on the hip. “Come on.”

She followed him out of the nursery and down the hall, expecting to head to the kitchen or maybe the couch for some well-earned Netflix downtime. Instead, Joe stopped in front of their bedroom door, his expression unreadable except for a flicker of mischief in his eyes.

He turned toward her, his voice warm but purposeful. “Go in and get ready.”

Angel tilted her head, amused. “For what?”

Joe opened the door with a flourish, revealing the soft lighting of their room—candles flickering on the dresser, the subtle scent of sandalwood in the air.

“For a surprise,” he said simply. “Trust me.”

Angel stepped into the room, still confused but smiling. “What kind of surprise?”

“The good kind,” he said, backing away with a grin. “Wear the dress you bought today. The one Monica made you get.”

She narrowed her eyes, her voice skeptical but teasing. “The Monica Special?”

“That’s the one,” he confirmed, already retreating down the hallway. “No questions. Just… wear it. I’ll be downstairs.”

With that, he disappeared, the sound of his footsteps fading as he made his way back down toward the main floor.

Angel stood in the center of their bedroom for a moment, letting his words settle over her like silk. Then, still smiling, she crossed the room and sat down at her vanity, the mirrored bulbs glowing softly around her reflection. Her robe fell open at the collarbone as she exhaled, suddenly aware of the way her heart had started to flutter again.

She reached for the black dress carefully folded over the back of the armchair—sleek, elegant, with just enough edge to make her feel dangerous in the best way. Holding it up to herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but think of Monica’s voice echoing in her head: You’re gonna thank me.

Angel shook her head with a grin and slipped out of her robe, letting the fabric fall away before easing into the dress. The material clung like liquid night, hugging her waist and gliding over her hips as if it remembered her body. She adjusted the neckline slightly, then reached for a brush to freshen the curls that had begun to relax since the spa.

She added a touch of highlighter along her cheekbones, a warm gold that caught the light with each turn of her head. A swipe of gloss over her lips. Her favorite gold hoop earrings. Then, finally, a spritz of perfume—her signature scent, soft and warm with hints of vanilla and amber—at the base of her neck.

For a moment, she simply looked at herself. She didn’t look tired. Or frayed. Or overwhelmed. She looked radiant. Soft, but powerful. Still a mother, yes—but also a woman. A wife. Herself.

She stood, smoothing the dress with both hands, and headed for the door. As her heels clicked softly across the hardwood floor, she wondered what Joe was up to. This was different. She could feel it in the air, thick and electric with promise.

But she wasn’t prepared for what waited just down the stairs.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When Angel stepped out of the bedroom, the hallway lights cast a soft golden glow over her skin, her heels whispering against the floor as she moved. She paused at the top of the stairs, hand trailing along the banister, heart tapping a quiet rhythm in her chest. There was a stillness in the house now—one that felt intentional, waiting. Anticipatory.

And then she saw him.

Joe stood at the base of the staircase, facing her. He was dressed in a charcoal button-down, the sleeves rolled just enough to show a sliver of forearm, paired with tailored black slacks that hugged his frame in all the right ways. In his hands, he held a bouquet—sunflowers and ivory roses, a mix so perfectly her that Angel’s breath caught in her throat.

For a long second, neither of them said anything. They just stared.

And then his eyes widened, lips parting slightly. He let out a low whistle, slow and reverent.

“Damn,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “You trying to kill me tonight?”

Angel laughed, ducking her head shyly, a warmth blooming in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the lighting.

“Joey,” she said softly, brushing one hand over the smooth wood of the railing. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can’t help it.” He started up the stairs, each step deliberate, his gaze never leaving her face. “You always look beautiful, Angel. Always. But tonight? You’re something else.”

When he reached her, he took her hand gently, his fingers brushing over her knuckles like he was rediscovering them. Then, with that boyish grin she’d fallen for back at LSU, he twirled her in place.

The fabric of the black dress shimmered as it caught the light, rippling around her legs like silk in motion. The open back and side slit gave a glimpse of skin that made Joe’s gaze drop momentarily, just enough to make Angel’s breath hitch again.

“You are… unreal,” he murmured, taking her in fully.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her voice hushed with affection. “You clean up pretty nice yourself, Mr. Burrow.”

Joe chuckled and handed her the bouquet, his voice suddenly tender. “These are for you.”

Angel’s fingers curled around the stems as she brought them to her nose. The scent of fresh blossoms filled her senses, grounding her in the moment.

“They’re perfect,” she said, eyes glimmering.

“I remembered,” he replied, his voice quiet but proud.

Then, with a wink, he stepped behind her and gently placed his hands over her eyes.

“No peeking,” he whispered near her ear, the warmth of his breath sending a small shiver down her spine.

Angel laughed, her voice light and full of trust. “You know blindfolds are more Monica’s style than mine.”

Joe chuckled. “You’ll survive. Just take it slow with me.”

He guided her step by step down the staircase, his hands secure but gentle, his body pressed close to hers as he murmured calming things in her ear: “Almost there… careful… one more step.” The familiar creaks of the hardwood beneath her feet were the only other sound besides the faint music drifting in from the dining room—soft jazz, smooth and romantic.

When they reached the bottom, he paused.

“You ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “Ready.”

Joe slowly lifted his hands from her eyes.

Angel opened them—and froze.

The dining room was transformed into something out of a dream.

Candlelight filled the space—dozens of them, in varying heights and sizes, flickering on every available surface. Some stood tall in elegant glass holders, others floated in small bowls of water, casting dancing reflections on the walls. The table was draped in pristine white linen, scattered with rose petals and gold-edged place settings. Crystal glasses caught the candlelight, sparkling like stars. In the air, the warm scent of roasted garlic, herbs, and lemon mingled with the soft strains of jazz and the floral perfume from the bouquet still in Angel’s hands.

She turned to Joe, eyes wide, lips parted. “Joe…”

He stepped toward her, took both of her hands in his, and smiled.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Angel.”

Her throat tightened with emotion. “You… you really did all this?”

He nodded once, his voice full of quiet certainty. “For you. You’ve given me everything, Angel. Our daughter. Our home. Your love. I just wanted to give you a moment—a night—where you felt as treasured as you are to us.”

A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and she laughed through it, brushing at her cheek. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup, Joe.”

He reached out, catching the tear with the pad of his thumb. “Then I’ll kiss it back on.”

She pulled him close, pressing a slow, heartfelt kiss to his lips. There was no rush in it, no urgency—just the deep, anchoring warmth of two people who had weathered sleepless nights, spit-up, late feedings, and all the quiet exhaustion of new parenthood and still looked at each other like they’d just fallen in love.

When they finally pulled apart, Joe gestured to her seat. “Dinner is served.”

They sat down together, their knees brushing under the table, fingers reaching instinctively for one another between bites. Joe had cooked everything himself—pan-seared chicken with garlic herb butter, lemony roasted vegetables, and Angel’s favorite truffle risotto. Dessert waited on a side table: molten lava cake with fresh berries and vanilla bean ice cream, just beginning to soften.

The meal was incredible, but the food was only part of it.

It was the way he looked at her when she spoke. The way he laughed at all the little details of her day, like he was hearing them for the first time. The way his foot nudged hers under the table, playful and familiar. The way, in every glance and every touch, he reminded her: I still see you. I still choose you. Every day.

By the time their plates were empty and the last candle flickered low, Angel wasn’t just full.

She was overwhelmed—with love, with gratitude, with the kind of peace that only came from being truly known.

And as Joe rose from his chair, offering his hand once again, his eyes warm and steady, she knew this wasn’t just a celebration.

It was a vow.

A quiet promise wrapped in flowers and candlelight and whispered kisses: I will keep showing up for you. Every day. Always.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

As the last bites of dessert disappeared—Angel having declared the molten lava cake “borderline illegal”—Joe poured the final sips of red wine into their glasses. The dining room had quieted into a peaceful stillness, the soft jazz now a slow, sultry hum in the background. The candlelight flickered low but steady, casting dancing shadows along the walls, making the room feel like its own little world—set apart, protected.

Angel leaned back in her chair, one hand absently swirling the stem of her wineglass, a content smile curving her lips.

“This was perfect,” she said, glancing at him over the rim. “Truly, Joe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more… cherished.”

Joe rested his chin in his hand, eyes locked on her, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Good. That was the point.”

She rolled her eyes affectionately. “You set the bar high, you know. I’m gonna expect roses on random Tuesdays now.”

“Done,” he said without hesitation. “You want roses on a Tuesday? I’ll bring you a whole garden.”

Angel laughed, soft and sweet, the kind of laugh that made Joe’s chest ache with love. He leaned closer across the table, elbow on the white linen, gaze sharp and suddenly mischievous.

“So,” he said, voice lower now, almost conspiratorial, “about that little… detour Monica took you on today.”

Angel blinked, then smirked. “I knew you’d bring that up eventually.”

“Of course I would,” Joe said, his grin deepening. “You mentioned something about lingerie that might break federal law. I feel like as your husband, it’s my civic duty to investigate.”

Angel sipped her wine slowly, letting him sweat for a second. “Oh, I don’t know… I mean, it’s not really the kind of thing you just see right after dinner.”

Joe raised an eyebrow, shifting in his chair with a mock-serious look. “I respectfully disagree.”

She bit her lip, leaning forward slightly. “You’re very invested in this case, Mr. Burrow.”

“Well Mrs. Burrow, I take matters of national importance very seriously.”

Angel set down her glass and stood from the table, moving around to him with a sultry slowness in her steps. Joe watched every move, the look in his eyes darkening, like he was memorizing each sway of her hips, each shift of fabric. When she reached him, she slid her hands down his shoulders, fingers curling at the back of his neck.

“Maybe,” she whispered near his ear, “you’ll get to see your surprise… if you clean up all these dishes.”

Joe’s laugh burst out of him, low and warm. “You’re evil.”

She kissed his cheek. “You love it.”

“God help me, I do,” he muttered, already rising from his seat.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in until their bodies aligned, until every breath felt like a conversation. “But I’m still cashing in on that surprise.”

Angel grinned, eyes twinkling. “You will. Eventually.”

Joe groaned dramatically, then gave her a lingering kiss that said he could wait… but not for long.

As he turned to start clearing the table, Angel slipped away with one last glance over her shoulder, a sway in her step and a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Mother’s Day had been everything she hadn’t known she needed—pampering, peace, romance, and this: the playful intimacy that always lived between them like a current. The spark that hadn’t dimmed with time or diapers or sleepless nights.

If anything, it had only grown deeper. Richer. Stronger.

And tonight, that spark was burning bright.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Upstairs, the quiet of their bedroom wrapped around Angel like silk.

The space glowed in soft amber light, the kind that blurred the edges of everything and made shadows dance on the walls. A few candles flickered gently atop the dresser, their warm flames casting golden halos against the polished wood and catching on the silver frames that held moments of their life frozen in time—Zariyah’s gummy, wide-eyed smile in Joe’s arms, the two of them beaming in wedding bliss under a Louisiana sun, a blurry, exhausted hospital selfie where Angel still had her IV in and Joe’s cap was backward, clinging to her like she was the air he needed.

Angel exhaled slowly as she stood by the edge of the bed, fingertips grazing the hem of her dress. She eased it down, inch by inch, letting the black fabric whisper along her skin until it pooled in a puddle of silk at her feet. The air touched her bare shoulders, cool against the warmth of her skin, and for a moment she just stood there, steadying her breath, grounding herself in the quiet.

Then she turned to the vanity and reached for the emerald green set Monica had all but shoved into her hands. Angel had blushed in the boutique under the soft pink lighting, laughing off Monica’s smirk and feigned innocence, but now… now the memory made her smile. She slipped it on—lace like whispers, soft against her curves. The color was striking, deep and lush, like a gemstone set against velvet. The bra framed her just right, with delicate scalloped edges and thin straps that accentuated the slope of her collarbone. The matching bottoms sat high on her hips, the sheer material revealing and concealing at once.

​​She clipped the matching garter belt around her waist, smoothing it into place with slow, practiced fingers. Thin satin straps extended downward, looping delicately around her thighs and fastening against a pair of sheer black stockings. The tension in the straps added a subtle pressure, a delicious awareness of every movement. 

She turned slightly, catching her reflection.

It wasn’t about perfection. It wasn’t even about seduction.

It was about owning who she was—mother, wife, woman—and feeling powerful in her skin. Beautiful. Present.

With gentle fingers, Angel fluffed the soft curls framing her face, still loose from the blowout earlier that morning. She reached for the dainty gold chain hanging from her mirror and held it between her fingers for a beat.

The necklace Joe had given her on their first anniversary—an emerald pendant encased in a sunburst, her birthstone cradled in gold. The first gift he’d ever given her that wasn’t tied to fanfare or cameras, but pure feeling. She remembered the way his voice cracked when he said, “You’re the light of my life, and this… just a reminder.”

She fastened it at the nape of her neck. The pendant settled just above the swell of her chest, catching the candlelight like a secret.

Angel took one last look in the mirror. Then, with a steady breath and a slow turn, she made her way to the bed.

Each step was deliberate—measured and unhurried. Her hips moved with soft confidence, her shoulders back, her eyes clear. She climbed onto the bed, its plush white comforter soft beneath her knees, and positioned herself in the center. Legs folded beneath her. Hands resting gently on her thighs. Back straight. Poised.

The anticipation was there, humming low and steady like background music.

She didn’t wait long.

And then… the doorknob turned.

The door eased open with a quiet creak, and Joe stepped inside, framed by the golden light spilling in from the hallway. He was drying his hands with a kitchen towel, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his shirt untucked and a little wrinkled from the flurry of cleaning downstairs. He looked like he was about to say something casual—some quip about wine stains or how he managed to scrub out whatever had bubbled over the risotto.

But then he looked up.

And his eyes locked onto her.

And the world stopped.

The towel slipped from his fingers, forgotten. His jaw slackened slightly, his chest lifting in a halted breath. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

His gaze locked onto Angel sitting on their bed, radiant in green lace, candlelight playing along the curve of her collarbone and the sparkle of the necklace he remembered clasping around her neck years ago.

He didn’t move at first—just stood there, jaw clenched, eyes dark and full of wonder, like if he blinked, the image in front of him might vanish.

Angel stayed still, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“Took you long enough,” she said gently, her voice teasing but thick with warmth.

Joe blinked like he was seeing a vision. His voice, when it came, was hushed—half prayer, half awe. “Jesus, Angel…”

He stood there, unmoving, eyes drinking her in like he needed to commit every detail to memory. And then, as if gravity finally caught up to him, he stepped forward.

“You trying to kill me?” he murmured, echoing the same words he’d said at the base of the stairs earlier.

Angel tilted her head, her smile deepening. “Depends… is it working?”

Joe exhaled a breath that sounded more like a groan, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

When he reached the bed, his fingers were reverent as they found her skin. He touched her like she was something rare—something he’d never stop marveling at. He traced the lace over her hip, the curve of her waist, the line of her shoulder. Angel leaned into him, her hands rising to his chest, slowly working open the buttons one by one.

“Green,” he murmured, half to himself. “You always knew how to drive me crazy… but this?”

She lifted a hand, toyed with the open collar of his shirt, her other hand brushing the short hair at the back of his neck. “This was just a little something to say thank you… for tonight. For everything.”

Joe’s eyes flicked to hers, glassy and dark with emotion. “You don’t ever have to thank me for loving you. But damn, Angel… I’m glad you did.”

“I bought this one just for you,” she said, her voice velvet. “So you better appreciate it.”

Joe’s grin was slow, his eyes dark with heat but soft with love. “Angel,” he murmured, leaning in until their foreheads touched, “I don’t just appreciate it. I worship it. I worship you.”

Their mouths met in a kiss that started soft—a brush of lips, an exhale, a pause. Then deeper. Hungrier. Hands wandered, finding familiar places and discovering them all over again. His shirt joined her dress somewhere on the floor. The warmth between them pulsed like a living thing, thick with want but anchored in something more.

Not as husband and wife, not even as mother and father.

Just Joe and Angel.

Two hearts still caught in orbit, still choosing each other, still wrapped up in something deep and unshakable.

Love.

Trust.

History.

And long into the night, the only light left flickering in their home was the one between them.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

They moved together with the kind of ease only years could create. She knew the weight of his touch before it landed. He knew the rhythm of her breath before she exhaled. They didn’t speak—there was no need. Every sigh, every kiss, every pull of a hand or brush of a thigh said more than words could.

And when they finally stilled, tangled together under soft sheets, skin warm and bodies loose with release, Joe curled a hand around her waist and pressed his lips to the side of her neck.

“You’re magic,” he whispered against her skin.

Angel smiled, eyes drifting shut, heart full.

“No,” she whispered back, nestling closer. “We are.”

Angel lay tucked in the crook of Joe’s arm, one thigh still wrapped in a strap he hadn’t dared to remove.

She played absently with his necklace chain, head resting against his chest, while he traced lazy circles into her back.

“That set should come with a warning,” he murmured sleepily.

Angel laughed softly, her smile pressed to his skin. “I’ll let Monica know.”

Joe groaned. “Remind me to thank her tomorrow.”

She kissed his collarbone. “Mm-hmm. Maybe.”

Outside, the wind rustled softly through the trees. Down the hall, their daughter slept soundly in her crib.

And in the quiet warmth of their bedroom, wrapped in each other’s arms, Joe and Angel laid suspended in a moment of peace, love, and the kind of connection that made everything else fade into silence.

But here, wrapped in each other, the world felt still.

And in this soft cocoon of candlelight, love, and velvet shadows, Joe and Angel weren’t just celebrating a holiday.

They were celebrating them.

[loving-barnes]

EVAN BUCKLEY - MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR

Author's note: I have something new for you. Because I have a crush on Evan Buckley from 911, I have decided to write a fic. And it might not be the last. Yes, I know it's easter, but I was feeling a bit more festive. So, enjoy. I hope some of you will.

Summary: Y/N was invited to the Christmas dinner with the 118.

Pairing: Evan Buckley x female reader

Warning: none

Rating: 15+

Words: 4200+

Masterlist | Evan Buckley Masterlist

EVAN BUCKLEY - MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR

This year, the Christmas celebration was held at the 118 station. The “A-shift” was working through the most wonderful day of the year. With that, or a few weeks before, came the idea of having a Christmas party at the station. Everyone was invited—everyone who was somehow related to each member of the fire station. Many people were expected, including kids. 

Bobby was happy to cook the turkey and ham at the station. His wife promised to make mashed potatoes, and bring peas and baked vegetables. Other firefighters brought food to the table - some sweet, others savoury. They wanted to be sure that there was plenty of food for everyone invited. 

Maddie drove with Y/N to the station. Both women wore Santa hats for the occasion and dressed casually as requested. The brunette kept eyeing her, grinning. “Are you excited?” she asked. 

Y/N squinted. “What’s with that face? What’s going on behind those eyes, huh?” 

Maddie parked the car at the station. “Nothing, nothing,” she shook her head, still grinning like a maniac. There was a silence for a good five seconds. “Just, thinking that you’ll be under the same roof with Buck.”

There it was, again. “Oh, that’s what’s happening,” she glared at her friend. “Listen, just because I confessed I have a tiny crush on your brother, doesn’t mean you get to have a field day with this.” 

“It’s cute, actually,” she said. “And the thought of you and my brother is appealing.” The brunette turned to her friend. “Okay, I have a confession.”

“Oh no.”

“There were two reasons why I brought you that night to meet everyone,” said Maddie. Before Y/N could send her to hell, she continued. “Yes, I wanted you to meet other people. You were new in the city and had no friends. But I wanted you to meet my little brother.”

“Meddler,” Y/N glared at her. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“You two have so much in common! Exercising? Video games? Cooking / baking?!” she said excitedly. “Besides, there is a spark between you two.” 

They got out of the car and headed to the trunk to get the baked goods they brought. “I don’t know what you see, Mads, but I don’t see any spark. I don’t think your brother is interested in me at all. He’s just friendly. So, please, just drop it, okay?” 

Once the truck was locked, they walked inside the station. Maddie held a big box with sugar cookies and regular cookies. She decided to change the topic. “This year we are so lucky to have Christmas and New Year’s off,” the brunette said, cheerfully. 

Y/N carried a tray with a punch cake. It was heavy, but she was proud she could bake it on time. Everyone would get a piece or two. “You have plans for New Year’s?” she asked. 

“Athena and Bobby are having a New Year’s party at their house,” she said. “Chim and I are going. Didn’t they tell you?” 

Y/N looked at her friend, shaking her head. “N-no. But, that’s okay. I’ll just have a nice evening on the couch, watching TV and-”

Maddie stopped and turned to Y/N. “No, you are coming with us. Besides, they decided about three days ago. They will let you know about it, I’m sure of it.” 

“I don’t want to intrude,” Y/N sighed. “So, if they don’t say anything to me tonight, I’ll know I am not invited and that’s fine. I have a rule: don’t go anywhere you are not invited.” 

Maddie was about to protest, but they just landed on the last steps of the upper level. The place was nicely decorated. Ornaments hung around the bannisters and the ceiling. A Christmas tree was shining with multiple colours. And, of course, there were mistletoes. It was magical.

With the big boxes, it took both women a second to walk up the stairs. Many people were present, so they greeted everyone with a loud “Merry Christmas!” 

Cheerful greetings started from every side. Bobby was the first to appear, taking Maddie’s box first, then hugging her once he put it away. Athena jumped in, taking Y/N’s tray of punch cake. “Oh my god, you baked that?” she asked. 

Y/N nodded with a smile. “I did. We bake it every year on Christmas - also, a non-alcoholic version. There is only a punch scent,” she explained. “Otherwise we put rum in it.” 

“You have to give me a recipe and show me how to bake it,” Athena smelled the cake through a plastic wrap, her eyes rolled back. “Damn, that smells delicious. It’s gonna be hard putting off those extra holiday pounds when I see all these goods.” 

Athena served the cookies and punch cake. She put half and half on plates and set each on one side of the narrow table. 

Chim greeted Maddie with a deep kiss. Hen came to hug Y/N as well as Karen did. At this point, they knew Y/N well. The moment Maddie brought her to the bar that fateful night, she became part of this family. And it was nice, having this many people in her life. They looked for one another, they cared for each other. It was nice. It was special. 

“Y/N!” She heard Christopher’s cheerful voice. He slowly walked to her, a big smile plastered over his face. Her arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. “Merry Christmas, Chris. Maddie and I brought sweets,” she winked at him. 

“What kind?” 

“Sugar cookies, regular cookies and I made a punch cake. It’s a Christmas cake I make with my family during Christmas,” she explained to him. “It’s really good.”

“Can’t wait to try it,” he said excitedly. 

That kid was amazing. Even with cerebral palsy, he could do so much stuff. And he made everyone’s day better. His attitude was always positive. Y/N admired him and Eddie. 

Speaking of Eddie, he approached them, sweeping his son into his arms. It made Chris laugh. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it,” he smiled at the woman. 

“Y/N.” Buck approached the young woman with a smile on his face. His hands spread wide. He was ready for a hug. “Merry Christmas.” 

There he was. The man who made her head spin. The man who made her heartbeat speed up like a race car. Buck was her Christmas wish. Somewhere deep in her fantasies, she imagined coming up to Santa and wishing for Buck to like her back. 

“Buck, Merry Christmas,” she greeted him, hugging the firefighter. 

This wasn’t the first time they hugged. They did it a couple of times. It turned into a causal thing between them. And damn, he smelled nice. Those strong arms around her; his body pressed against her… No, don’t go there. 

“I saw you brought a big tray,” he wiggled his brows. 

“I made a punch cake,” she said. How many times did she say it already? “So, I hope you’ll take a piece and tell me what you think since you’ve dipped your fingers into the culinary world.” There was a teasing grin on her face. 

“It’ll be my pleasure,” he bowed his head a little. “You accept criticism, right?” 

She made a face. “I do, don’t worry. You can go all Gordon Ramsay on me. I won’t mind. But I bet you’ll say only nice things about my baking skills.” 

Buck looked around, his eyes landing on a plate with sweets. He reached for a piece of punch cake and took a bite. Y/N watched him chew. He hummed, made a face and then swallowed. 

“Fuck, that’s one good cake,” he cursed and shoved the rest of the piece into his mouth. More humming came out of his throat. It made Y/N giggle. “Very on theme, very well baked from a pretty, skilful baker.” 

Pretty and skilful or pretty skilful, she wondered. Don’t get your hopes high.

“Is everyone here?” They heard Athena call. Buck and Y/N looked at her, wondering what this was about. “If you could all gather for a Christmas group photo on this side of the table.” 

People started to move around, walking to one side of the table for the photo. “Who’s gonna take the picture?” Chim asked. 

“Self-timer,” Bobby replied as he set the camera on a tripod. 

Y/N wanted to stand on the very edge of the photo. That’s where she belonged even when she knew these people well. It was only fitting. But a hand reached for her, pulling her. Her eyes found Buck pulling her more to the middle. He made her stand next to him. His arm wrapped around her lower back, pushing her closer to his body. Maddie was slightly bent forward with Chim. Eddie was next to Buck with Christopher standing in front of him.

It was a simple gesture. This proved she was part of the brave family that saved lives - 911 dispatchers, Firefighters, Paramedics and Police officers. First responders. 

“Everyone, say ‘Merry Christmas’!” Athena called. 

“Merry Christmas!” The whole group shouted as several photos were taken thanks to a self-timer. 

This was the first Christmas that felt nice. Last year, she was alone, back in her hometown, sad and depressed. She would laugh at people if someone told her that Christmas could be magical again. Look where she was now. 

Y/N took a deep breath to suppress her tears. This was not the time to cry. It was time to be joyful. 

“The camera will be available for anyone who wants to take a picture after dinner. Now, let’s eat before the bell rings,” Bobby ordered with a big smile. 

People started to mingle around, finding a place to sit. Maddie sat down next to Chim and called Y/N to sit beside her. Eddie, Chris and Buck walked around and sat across them. 

“I am starving,” Buck called. 

Peas were passed around. Mashed potatoes and a bowl of other vegetables and then cut portions of turkey and ham. People put anything they wanted on their plates. Laugher echoed around the firehouse as well as the sound of clinking dishes. 

The food was delicious. Y/N had to admit she had never had mashed potatoes that were this creamy and rich. The meat was juicy and perfectly marinated. Bobby did an excellent job, as she learnt from the people around her. 

“I’m gonna be in a food coma,” she commented after finishing her plate. “It was delicious.” 

“I told you. Bobby is like Guy Fieri,” Buck looked into her eyes.

Y/N felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She glanced at the screen. A sigh escaped her lips. It was a text from a relative who wrote to her for Christmas. The last thing she wanted was a message from them. She licked her lips and put the phone back. 

Maddie’s eyes were on her. She noticed the shift of energy from her friend. “Everything okay?” 

“Yes,” Y/N put a smile on her face. “Just got Christmas wishes.”

No more questions were asked. Good. She didn’t need people to feel sorry for her. She didn’t want to dwell on the past, no matter how hard or sad it was. 

As the party continued, and without any calls, people formed groups and talked. They eat the cookies or the punch cake. They drank water, juice or other non-alcoholic beverages. Now was the perfect opportunity to find a secluded spot to think for a moment. And that’s what Y/N did. 

She walked to the other side of the upper floor where no one was present. It gave her the space to be alone but not leave the party. All she needed was five minutes, maybe ten. Y/N took her phone out and looked at the text. It made her stomach twist and turn unpleasantly. No, she won’t react to the text. She won’t do anything about it. 

“Hey.” 

Her head snapped up from the phone. She quickly put it in her pocket again. “Hey, Buck.” 

“Y-you okay?” His steps stopped by her side. He leaned against the wooden bannister. His eyes looked around the firehouse. The engines were parked, waiting to be taken on a call. Boy, he hoped they wouldn’t have to leave anytime soon. 

“Uh, yeah,” she smiled at him. “I’m just checking with my relatives. That’s all.” It was a half-truth. 

“Come on, we’re friends. We’ve known each other for months. You don’t have to pretend or lie. Is everything okay, Y/N?” His body turned to face her. 

She opened her mouth, then closed it. How could she tell him about her life? She hated going back in the past, reliving the memories that had happened. “Uh, it’s a little complicated,” she said. “Last Christmas, I spent it alone, back in my hometown. It was a challenging year. Tragic, I dare to say.” 

Buck’s hand appeared on her shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Okay, I’m not gonna push-”

“It’s okay,” she jumped in. “My father passed away 2 years ago - prostate cancer. It happened after Christmas.” 

“Oh, sorry about that,” he sighed. “You and your mom must-”

“I’m not in contact with my mother,” she said. “Or I’m not trying to be. Our relationship is bad. Let’s leave it like that for now.” 

She could see in Buck’s eyes he wanted to ask. His lower lip trembled. One nod of his head, he decided to let it go. “You’ve spent last Christmas alone?” 

“Yeah, I didn’t feel like celebrating. I felt lost and not festive. Now, it’s different. I feel like I belong somewhere again.” Y/N looked at the people at the table. They laughed, chatted and enjoyed the rest of the food. 

“You are with us, now. You are part of this big heroic family. We get to save lives, some of us risk our own and feel like heroes for a moment,” he laughed. 

“Like I said before, I like I’m doing something meaningful. No matter how mentally challenging this job is. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you.” Y/N turned to him. Her elbow rested against the bannister. Her head tilted to the side. “You go in the field, risk your life. Hope to survive and then do it again.” 

He chuckled. “Yeah. Some days it’s easier than others. But, I wouldn’t change this work for anything. I love my job. I love what I’m doing.” 

She nodded. “I get it. I do. I love my job, too. It was the best decision to…” Her speech faltered when her eyes noticed Maddie on the other side of the room, making weird faces at her. At first, she made kissy faces. Then she pointed with her finger up. 

Y/N’s eyes lifted just as Buck turned his head to see what was happening behind his back. There was a mistletoe above them. It was one of the many that hung around the firehouse. Buck looked back at Y/N and saw her attention above them. Now, he too discovered the mistletoe. 

He chuckled under his nose. “I don’t think I’ve noticed that.” 

She shook her head in disbelief. “I didn’t either.” Her cheeks got warmer and she bit her lip nervously. “But I recall I’ve seen a few around the place when we arrived.”

Buck made a small step to her, a smile never leaving his face. He cleared his throat. “You know the rules, right?” 

“Uh, enlighten me,” she said. 

“Well,” he licked his lips. “It’s all just superstition, but it is said that if the people don’t just kiss under the mistletoe, they’ll get one year of bad luck.” 

That made her laugh. “Oh, is that right?” 

He took another step closer. The gap between them closing. His eyes travelled around her face - her eyes, her nose and then her lips. “You don’t want a year of bad luck, do you?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Good.” His hand lifted to her face and he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He was so close now. She could feel his body heat radiating from him. “Well, now you’re gonna have to kiss me then.” 

She made a face, trying to hold back her laughter. Her eyes locked on his. “Or maybe you’ll have to kiss me,” she dared back. 

He was surprised by that response, by her boldness. “If that’s what you want,” he whispered. One of his hands found the back of her neck as he gently pulled her closer to his body. Slowly, their lips connected in their first, gentle kiss. 

They tested the waters. At first, it was light as a feather, lips barely touching. Then, the second time their lips pressed together, it was bolder, proper. Her hands slowly crawled up his chest and wrapped around his neck as the third kiss got more heated. His tongue swiped over her lower lip, asking for entrance. She did. Their tongues collided, explored and danced together. 

Y/N didn’t want the kiss to end. His arms, the hold he had on her was what she needed. His kisses were what she secretly dreamt of. However, a higher power, or in other words, his co-workers had a different plan. 

Shouting and clapping echoed from the other side of the level. Their kiss broke when they heard the cheering. Y/N pressed her forehead against his uniform, blushing. With that scene, everyone was looking at them now. 

Buck turned his head, glaring at everyone. “Way to ruin the moment,” he huffed. 

When Y/N pushed her body from him and looked at the people, she noticed Maddie giving her thumbs up. “Your sister is gonna be insufferable now and I mean it affectionately.” 

“Uh, what now?” Buck looked at her. 

She shook her head, laughing awkwardly. Y/N waved a hand. “So, no bad luck now, huh?” 

His hand moved to her warm cheek. A thumb brushed the skin under her eye. “Yeah. I guess the bad luck was avoided, thanks to me.” 

Y/N snorted. “So, you are basically taking the credit, huh?” 

“It was me who kissed you,” he teased. 

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course, what was I expecting?” This silliness between them was adorable. 

Buck leaned in some more. He inhaled her scent, enjoying the vanilla perfume she wore. “Maybe you should thank me for saving you from a year of bad luck,” he hummed. His nose brushed against her. 

A gentle nod. A whisper of “okay”. She leaned more, their lips meeting again in another kiss. One of his hands appeared on the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. The kiss deepened. A soft moan escaped her lips.

The bell began to ring again. It was another call and the firefighters had to respond. Buck pulled away. “Wait till we are back?” 

“O-okay,” she nodded eagerly and watched him run downstairs with the rest of his team. Christmas or not, they were at work and were needed somewhere more. 

Y/N licked her lips. Her eyes were locked on the fire engine until it was out of sight. Her mind was clouded by the feeling of Buck’s lips on her. The way he held her, how he made her feel. This was a dream, right? 

“Y/N,” Athena’s voice brought her back from the cloud. There was a smirk on her lips. “I’m not gonna ask questions about what happened here, but I’m gonna do is invite you to our New Year’s party. Bobby and I decided to leave this year with a bang.” Before Y/N could reply, she added, “Buck’s gonna be there.” 

Her cheeks warmed up again. “Thank you for inviting me. I guess I can change my traditional plans for a party with you all.” 

Athena raised a brow. “What are your traditional plans?” 

“Watching TV, eating food and falling asleep before midnight,” Y/N chuckled. 

“My kind of evening,” Athena patted her shoulder. 

Together they walked back to the table where the friends and family members talked. “I used to party when I was younger,” said Y/N. “That changed with age. The moment I turned 21, it was like the magic disappeared. Since then, I’m not a party girl.” 

Athena handed her a phone. “Give me your number. I still want the recipe for that delicious punch cake. Plus, I want you to show me how to bake it.” 

Two hours later, half of the people left. Karen took Denny home with Christopher and his aunt. Michael took May and Harry to his place. Maddie, Athena and Y/N cleaned up the place. They put the remaining food into the containers. Y/N cleaned the dishes with Maddie and Athena cleared the table. 

“So,” Maddie grinned at Y/N. “Everyone saw you kissing my brother.” 

“Your brother kissed me,” she fought back with a smile. “It was the mistletoe.” 

Maddie rolled her eyes. “If it were just the mistletoe, you wouldn’t be making out like that. It was the push you needed.” 

“Maddie, let the girl be,” Athena chimed in. 

“Come on. Don’t say you don’t support this,” Maddie sighed. “It’s adorable.” 

“Oh, I’m rooting for Buckoo and Y/N. But everyone saw this intimate moment between them which can be a bit embarrassing. So, let them figure things out first.”

Y/N sighed. “You are talking as if I’m not here.” 

After the place was clean and all three women remained at the station alone, Y/N checked the time. “I promised Buck to wait for him, but I should get going. Will you drive me home, please?” she looked at Maddie. 

The brunette nodded. They said goodbye to Athena, who was already on her way out of the station. Both women grabbed their belongings just as the firetrucks returned to the station. 

Maddie smiled at Y/N. “We’ll meet in the car, okay? Take your time. I’m gonna grab Chim for a minute too.” 

Y/N stood on the lower floor, watching as they parked all the vehicles. Bobby was already out, coordinating the parking. He raised his hand to signal the drivers to stop. His head turned to the woman. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled. “You still here?” 

“We just finished cleaning the kitchen to take some work off your shoulders,” she said. “Leftovers are in the fridge, as well as the punch cake. It’s better when it is chilled. Cookies are on the counter.” 

Eddie and Buck left the engine together. Smiles were plastered over their faces until they noticed Y/N and Bobby talking. Well, Buck’s smile got even bigger. “You still here?” Eddie asked. 

“I was just about to leave.” 

“Thank you for coming here and celebrating Christmas with us,” said Bobby. He hugged her. The gesture was sweet. 

Eddie came in next, wrapping his arms around her. “Loverboy wants to talk,” he whispered. It made her laugh. “Merry Christmas.”

Once she was free, Buck approached her. His hand reached forward. Y/N grabbed it and let him take her to a secluded part of the firehouse. They didn’t need any more eyes on them. 

“I guess I came just in time,” he smiled. 

“Everyone already left and it’s getting late,” she replied, holding his hand. Buck never let go.

“Listen,” he pulled her closer to him. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening if you are available?” 

“I’d love that,” she nodded. The smile on her face was the brightest Buck had ever seen. God, could he get any more smitten with her? His heart wanted to escape out of his chest. “My shift ends at 6 PM. Where do we meet?” 

“Your place,” he said. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman. I’ll pick you up at eight. You’ll have enough time to get ready after work. I’ll take you to a nice restaurant where we’ll wine and dine. Then, we can take a walk and after I’ll safely bring you back home.” 

She bit her lower lip, trying to keep herself composed. “Sounds lovely. I can’t wait.” 

“Great. Great,” he nodded.

They stood there, eyes staring into one another. For a few seconds, they didn’t do anything. It was a bit awkward. Buck decided to take the step. His right hand pressed gently against her cheek. He stepped towards her and leaned to kiss her lips. It was simple and sweet. Her hands brushed against his chest. 

Buck pulled away first. “Damn, you should go. Otherwise, I won’t let you.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, grinning. “Okay, firefighter Buckley. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight. I can’t wait.” 

“Me too.” 

Reluctantly, their touch disconnected and Y/N walked away from the station. Again, the smile that decorated her face signified nothing but pure happiness. Her head was again on cloud nine, thinking about his lips. She almost bumped into Maddie’s car. 

Y/N hopped into the car, meeting Maddie’s curious eyes. “What?” she asked. 

Maddie made a face. “Well? How did it go?” 

“We…” Y/N took a deep breath. “We are going on a date tomorrow evening.” 

“Yes!” Maddie shouted excitedly. “I’m so glad things are finally moving between you two. Ah. And I am not feeling bad that I meddled between you,” she clapped her hands. 

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “Do I wanna know what you mean by that?” 

“I’ll tell you some other time,” Maddie giggled. 

She started the car and drove Y/N back to her apartment. Looking back at the day, it was indeed the most wonderful time of the year. 

[meadowfics]

peppermint lollipops

mother!cho hyun-ju x f!mother!reader x child!oc

the two mothers, along with their daughter, get pedicures for mother's day

you and hyun ju wake up early, whispering plans over coffee while eun-ae still sleeps, her tiny snores echoing from her room.

"we deserve a day to feel special, don't we?"

hyun ju says, her eyes sparkling as she leans across the kitchen counter, her fingers brushing yours.

you nod, squeezing her hand.

"pedicures, lunch, just us three. eun-ae will love it."

hyun ju grins, already picturing eun-ae's excitement.

"she's going to insist on picking something, you know."

you laugh softly.

"let’s let her feel like she’s in charge for a bit."

eun-ae bounds into the kitchen, her dark hair a wild mix of yours and hyun ju’s silky strands, clutching two peppermint lollipops wrapped in shiny cellophane.

"happy mommy day!"

she squeals, thrusting one at you and one at hyun ju.

"my teacher gave them for mommies, and i got two 'cause i have two mommies!"

she puffs out her chest, proud.

hyun ju kneels, taking her lollipop with a grin.

"two mommies, huh? you’re the luckiest kid, aren’t you?"

eun-ae nods vigorously.

"yup! nobody else got two!"

you unwrap yours, the peppermint scent sharp and sweet.

"eun-ae, this is so special. thank you, my love."

she beams, her eyes...your shape, and hyun ju’s warm brown...gleaming.

"can i come with you today? please?"

the three of you pile into the car, eun-ae strapped into her booster seat, singing a made-up song about "pretty toes and yellow bows," still bragging about her two lollipops she got you both.

hyun ju glances at you from the passenger seat, her smile soft.

"she’s got your voice, you know. all that energy."

you chuckle, catching eun-ae’s grin in the rearview mirror.

"and your charm. we’re in trouble."

at the spa, eun-ae insists on holding both your hands, skipping between you.

"i’m gonna sit in the big chair too!"

eun-ae declares.

you settle into the spa chairs: you on the left, eun-ae in the middle, hyun ju on the right.

eun-ae’s tiny feet dangle, barely reaching the water.

the technician smiles at eun-ae.

"what color, little miss?"

hyun ju holds up a bottle of pale yellow polish, her favorite.

"how about this? it’s like sunshine."

eun-ae claps.

"yes! sunny toes for all of us!"

you laugh, nudging eun-ae’s shoulder.

"you sure you don’t want pink or purple?"

she shakes her head, resolute.

"nope! i want to match my mommies."

as the technicians work, eun-ae giggles at the ticklish brush, her laughter making you and hyun ju exchange a warm look.

"this is the best,"

hyun ju murmurs, reaching over eun-ae's little body to squeeze your hand.

"just us, together." you nod, heart full.

"i wouldn’t trade this for anything."

when the pedicures are done, you all admire your matching pale yellow toes, eun-ae wiggling hers proudly.

"we look like a team!"

she says, hopping off the chair to hug you both.

hyun ju lifts her, kissing her cheek.

you lead the way to the cozy sandwich place you picked, its outdoor tables perfect for a sunny mother’s day.

eun-ae studies the kids’ menu, her brow furrowed like hyun ju’s when she’s focused.

"i want a grilled cheese, but with extra cheese."

hyun ju laughs, ordering the same.

"like mother, like daughter."

you opt for a turkey club, teasing, "i’m keeping it classy over here."

eun-ae giggles, sipping her apple juice.

"mommy, you’re funny but mama’s funnier."

hyun ju winks at you.

"i’ll take that win."

you all share fries, eun-ae sneaking extras from your plate.

"these are the best fries ever," she says, ketchup on her chin.

you wipe her face gently.

"only the best for my girls."

during lunch, eun-ae suddenly climbs into your lap, wrapping her arms around you.

"i love you, mommy. you liked your lollipop?"

your throat tightens as you hug her back.

"i loved it, eun-ae. and i love you. you make every day special."

she scurries to hyun ju next, burying her face in her neck.

"mama, you’re the best hugger. did you eat your lollipop yet?"

hyun ju’s eyes glisten as she holds her close.

"not yet, baby, i’m saving it for dessert, but thank you for the gift sweetheart!"

eun-ae sits back, beaming.

"i have two mommies, and that’s the best thing ever!"

as you walk back to the car, eun-ae swings between you and hyun ju, her hands tiny but strong in yours.

"can we do this again next year?"

she asks, her voice hopeful.

hyun ju kneels, brushing a curl from eun-ae’s face.

"every year, sweetheart! and maybe we’ll try blue toes next time."

you laugh, pulling them both into a hug.

"deal. but i’m picking the lunch spot again."

eun-ae giggles, her joy infectious.

"i love mommy day!"

you and hyun ju share a look, your hearts full of the love only your little family can bring.

masterlist

[mywritersmind]

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4

↳ pt.4

summary : A week of not so secret flirting, drunken parties, and being surrounded by your best friends; it ends with a promise and a kiss.

og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.

listen up : suggestive comments!! kissing! language!! all done <33 thanks for all the love recently i truly love you all. final part pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

word count : 3324 + tiny bit of smau

⋆｡‧˚⋆

My feet are freezing but my torso is warm. My head hurts and when I move to sit up in bed, I'm yanked back down by a weight over my waist.

What? I eye the arm over me and trail it all the way to the man next to me. No.

I practically throw his arm off me but he doesn’t wake up, just stirs a bit and tugs on the blanket. It moves down his bare chest to reveal his tanned abs.

I’m in my pajamas. My hair is knotted. My head is pounding. I hit Lando with a pillow.

“Norris!”

He groans, turning away from me and mumbling. Once he realizes the person yelling at him is in his bed, he blinks at me. “What could be so important that you’re waking me up by pillow?” His morning voice is deep and scratchy.

“What the fuck am I doing here!?” I remember going out. I don’t remember making my way into Lando’s bed!

He rolls his eyes then closes them. I hit him again, “Hey!”

“Lando!” I yell again, then my hand goes to my mouth and my eyes widen, “We didn’t…”

He looks genuinely offended, “Give me some credit, Pretty. You’d know.” His arms go to the back of his head, a slight smirk on his face.

I screw my face up, “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” I hit him again, “Okay! Okay! You came here to get your purse but you were shit drunk and wouldn’t leave.”

Shit. “Oh.” I do not recall this at all. I cross my arms. “You couldn’t have slept on the couch?”

“You crashed my bed!” I remember him calling me beautiful.

I groan and stand up, pulling my hair up and finally spotting my purse. The floor is freezing and I can feel Lando’s eyes on me as I cross his room.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night?” I turn back so see him leant over the bed, the comforter dangerously low on his waist.

I turn back and pretend to look in my bag, “I don’t remember anything after my third shot and you dancing with that girl.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say right as it leaves my mouth.

“Oh… So you got drunk because you were jealous.” I don’t need to turn around to know he’s smirking.

“Goodbye Lando.” I make my way to the door.

“You’re not denying it!” He yells after me.

I shake my head and grab the door handle, “Truce, Norris. Don’t forget it!”

⋆༺

My friends and I meet for breakfast, gossiping about the locals and everything that happened last night. “You didn’t answer when I knocked this morning.” Rebecca looks at me while stirring her coffee.

“Hot night?” Alex teases as I make eye contact with Lily who’s smirking.

“I must have just been asleep…” My tone is less than convincing and me being late to breakfast didn’t help either. “You can’t freak out.”

I tell them about waking up next to Lando, their jaws dropped and their hands paused on utensils. Lily is the least shocked but definitely the most disappointed when I share that I didn’t have sex with him.

“Ok i’m officially freaking out!” Kika drops her fork, shaking her head as I prepare for the million questions they have for me.

⋆༺

LANDO

“Last day!” Pierre claps his hands together as we walk down the streets of turkey. The girls’ absence is very noticeable because my friends are fully attentive this morning.

“I’m sad.” Carlos sighs, “I don’t want to go back to real life.”

“I’m excited to go back!” Alex shrugs, looking around the white buildings, “I miss my cat.”

“I don’t know.” I say, “I've enjoyed this trip a lot. But I do need a break from you muppets.”

Charles hits my arm, “You only enjoyed it so much because you finally stopped toying around with Y/n.”

“Truth!” Pierre laughs, “I think you two are a great addition to the group. I mean you’re already in it but now everyone has a couple.

I eye him. “We’re not a couple. She barely likes me as it is.”

Carlos shakes his head, “Mate… She definitely likes you more than ‘barely’. Y/n may be strong willed but I've never seen her blush so much.”

I roll my eyes and pretend like that doesn’t make me like her more. “We’re friends. I think.”

“You think?” Charles raises a brow.

“I guess.” I say.

“Lando!” Carlos practically screams and slaps his hands down on my shoulders, “You need to ask her out.”

“I’m not asking her out! She’s scary as fuck.”

“Pussy.” Pierre and Alex cough at the same time as I side eye them.

“You’re just scared she’s gonna reject you.” Carlos says in my ear as I elbow him in the stomach, “Ow!”

“Fuck off and let’s go.”

⋆༺

YOU

I know he’s staring at me. I know he’s not trying to cover it up. I know he wants me to look back.

And I know I look good as hell.

“Norris!” Carlos calls from the water, “Come on!”

Lando doesn’t respond so I assume he shook his head because I don’t hear him getting up. I open my eyes and tilt my sunglasses down just as a smile breaks out on Lando’s face.

I suddenly understand the extent of why women fall at his feet. He’s got glasses on but his smile makes me want him to break my heart.

“Wanna go swim?”

I’m laying on my stomach so I rest my head against my warm arm and respond, “Go swim with Carlos.”

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to swim with Carlos.”

“Too bad. So sad.” I close my eyes again as I hear him mumble something under his breath.

“Wanna talk about your little jealously streak then?”

I sit up and face the water, “You’re one to talk.” He gives me a look to which I pull my sunglasses back on my head to fully look at him, “You gave that waiter a death glare!”

“He was being weird.”

I shake my head and laugh, “He was asking if I wanted parmesan!”

Lando does not look amused, playing around with his camera, “Parmesan is just where it starts…”

“So what? It’s cheese then asking to fuck me?”

He crosses his arms on the tanning chair, “Exactly.”

I breathe out, looking out at our friends in the water and the clear skies. “You shouldn’t care about that, Lando.”

“I can’t help it.” He shuffles around, snapping a few pictures as he nonchalantly says, “You looked good in my bed.”

I turn to him again, trying to actually see if he’s being serious but his face doesn’t crack into a smile. I’m speechless. And it’s embarrassing. “I- No.” I place my feet onto the sand and quickly stand, pulling off my sarong as I walk down the beach.

He follows me, of course he does.

“Don’t hide, Pretty. You blushing because of me is a lovely sight.” His fucking smile, god!

I’m frustrated that I can’t act cool around him all of the sudden, “Why don’t you look at the very beautiful ocean right in front of us!?”

He doesn’t even glance at the view, “I prefer you.”

My lips pull together in a thin line, “I can’t stand you.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion…” he steps forward and whispers, “that you can.”

I swallow and accidentally make eye contact with Lily who is smirking at us. I know they can’t hear what he’s saying but it still makes me nervous. “I’m sorry for last night.” It’s all I can think to say.

“I think we already established that it was no problem.” Right because he liked me in his bed! Kill me now. “Don't worry. We’ll have a redo soon enough.”

He starts walking away from me as I gasp, “A redo!? Lando what do you mean!?”

He starts walking backward, slowly. “One on both our terms? One with two sober attractive people?” He raises a brow.

I cross my arms but honestly want to laugh. I walk closer, “Keep dreaming, Norris.”

“It’s called manifesting, actually!” Is all he says before picking me up and slinging me over his shoulder. It takes me so off guard that I can’t help my scream.

“Lando!”

I can hear the smirk in his voice, his hands gripping my legs, “Scream my name, Pretty.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m looking at her again.

A little less admiring this time because i’m holding back a laugh as she tries to take Pierre down in a game of chicken.

She’s on Carlos’ shoulders while Charles has Pierre sat on his. Everyone is laughing around us as they watch the four.

I don’t even realize the man next to me until he clears her throat, “Hey man.” He’s american.

“Hi.” I think he’s going to ask for picture or something but then he looks up at Y/n and I get a sick sort of feeling that this is my karma for teasing her.

He looks back at me and gives me a cheesy grin, “I’m Nate.”

I nod slowly, “Hi Nate.”

“Mine telling me your friend's name?” Ok rude. He didn’t even ask for mine. I hate him.

“Carlos?” I blink, pointing to the man.

Nate laughs a bit awkwardly, “Nah man… The hot girl on his shoulders.”

“Oh.” I eye him, my disdain obvious, “That’s Y/n.”

“Y/n, huh? She single?” I give him a look to which he looks frightened at, His hand goes to my shoulder and I fight the urge to step back, “Shit! She’s not your girl, is she?”

“Um…” Everything in me wants to say yes. “No. No she’s not.”

He hums, “Right… I know that look. I’ll back off, I get it.” He’s grinning like he knows all my secrets, “Sorry to bother you.” I think he’s going to leave but he stops, “Man also- in my experience, it’s not a good sign, guys asking you about her.”

He leaves.

What the fuck? I finally get the girl to tolerate me and now everyone thinks I'm supposed to fall at her feet and beg her?

Yeah I'll do it.

⋆༺

YOU

The day has flown by, with the sun burning us one last time and our lunch at the best local place where the chef adores us. I’m sad to go. Even If we still have this last night.

Dinner is slow and quiet, we’re all pretty tired but comment on little things around us.

I’m in a long dark blue dress, my favorite for our last night. Lando’s next to me and by the end of our dinner, he rests his head on my shoulder. I say nothing because I like his closeness.

Kika clears her throat, “This was an amazing trip and I'm very glad I got to enjoy it with you lot. I’m very very thankful for everyone here, and how our little group operates.”

Pierre rubs her back, “I’m thankful for hotel beds. And mojitos and sunscreen.” I laugh as Alex starts.

“I’m grateful for fish and sunglasses.”

Lily shakes her head, “I’m thankful for my lovely friends and for all the amazing food we ate! Plus me beating Lando in golf.”

Lando groans next to me, “I’ll get you one day, Lil.”

I smile, “I’m grateful for the ocean! And boat rides and night swims.”

“I’m grateful for spas and books!” Alexandra joins in.

Charles smiles at her lovingly, “I’m thankful for friends and cooking classes.” God that seems like forever ago.

“I’m thankful for golf as well!” Carlos grins, “And wine.”

Rebecca laughs and squeezes his hand, “I’m grateful for morning yoga and sunsets.”

Lando doesn’t sit up when it’s his turn, just stays resting on my shoulder, “I’m thankful for my camera and all the pretty views I've captured.” His foot nudges mine.

I blink, looking down at him as he just stares forward. Kika grins and holds up her glass, “To us!” I join as we all hold up our respective drinks.

“To us!” We repeat and cheers, Lando’s head leaving my shoulder as he holds up his water.

“You know…” Pierre looks around at us, “I’m not very tired.”

Carlos grins and taps his finger against the table, “It’s our last night…”

Lily laughs and stands, “Beach bar!”

⋆༺

The thought of drinking makes me feel sick so I stick to water. Lando is nursing a drink but it’s the same one I've seen him with all night.

I catch his eye while he’s talking to the bartender, he smiles softly and makes his way over to me immediately.

“Hi.” Hi? I don’t think Lando’s ever said Hi to me.

“Hello…?”

He leans against the bar as the music gets louder, “Fun night?”

I nod, sipping my water as someone bumps into us. He drunkenly apologizes before Lando looks at me again, “Want to go for a walk?”

I find walking down the beach at night with Lando far too often… Not that i’m complaining.

His drink is gone and his shoes are in his hand as mine are in mine, “Accomplish everything you wanted to?”

“Accomplish?” I laugh, “Do you go to every vacation with a to-do list?”

He shrugs shyly, “Maybe a mental one. Like I knew I needed to jet ski. I didn’t know it would end up with an attempted drowning…”

I scoff and hit his arm, “I wish your dramatic ass did drown.”

He just grins, “You’re remarkably bad at lying.”

I shake my head, looking back at him, “It’s something about you… You call me out on everything.”

“Because it’s so easy to catch. Even if you’re joking… you bite your lip a bit. No matter the lie.”

I frown, “You notice things like that?”

He looks past me at the water, then back to me. His face is shaded but the moonlight helps see his features, “I notice a lot of things about you.”

“If you told me that a week ago… I would have laughed in your face.”

“It didn’t just start this week. You just avoided me at every chance you got before this trip, but you’re hard to miss.”

I’m walking backwards now, looking at his loose button down and his hand in his pocket, “Are you saying you watched me, Norris?”

“I don’t think you understand that you’re very interesting to watch.” I go to speak but he cuts me off, “And don’t you dare call me creep. I know you do it too.”

I smile, “I’m grateful for you, Lando.”

His brows raise, “Am I being pranked…?” He comes to a stop as I push his shoulder back.

“I am. You bug the good out of me.”

He sets down his shoes, the music and lights from the beach bar far away but still seen and heard softly. “I’m glad you think so.”

It surprises me when his hand goes to my waist, “What are you doing?” I say quickly.

“Humor me.” Is all he says as his other hand meets my waist for the second time. I move my arms to his shoulders, my hand behind his head.

“Do you dance with all your friends by moonlight?” We sway a bit together.

He smiles again, his eyes so bright even in the dark, “I can tell you in confidence that this is a Y/n special. But you hurt me a bit.”

I raise a brow, “What?”

“Friendzoned while thinking about kissing you isn’t a fun thing.” My heart rate starts up.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Go out with me. When we get back.” I watch him talk so close to me, “No hostess forcing us together or shitty small talk. Come on, Pretty. For real.” He’s so beautiful and so nice and so funny.

“We don’t live close. Lando, you travel-”

“Fuck that. I’m asking you on a date in Monaco because I like you, a lot. If nothing else was in the way, what would you say?” He seems almost nervous and it makes me smile because he never shows this side of him.

“I would say yes.” I can’t help it. “But those things are very real and…”

“And?” He raises a brow, a smile replacing his nervous face.

I can’t help but smile, “And I like you. Maybe too much…” this makes his grin widen. “But still!”

“I can fly. I don’t know if you know this…” he leans in closer to whisper in my ear, “But I have some extra money.”

I pretend to push away but he holds me tight, “One date.”

He nods, repeating my words, “One date.”

“Our friends will freak out.”

“They’ll love it.”

“I know they will.” I shake my head, “I swear this was just a ploy to get us together.”

He laughs, “It worked, didn’t it?”

I laugh with him because he’s correct. I started this week with a bad attitude and a need for sun. I’m leaving it with a pretty boy and tanned skin.

“You still don’t know a lot about me.” We sway.

Lando shrugs, our faces extra close now, “I know you can talk for hours. I’ll listen.”

And I know he’s not lying.

“I’m annoying a lot of the time.”

He nods far too theatrically, “Trust me, I know!” I step on his foot but he just uses it as a way to bring me closer. I can hear his breathing and when I meet his eyes again, they’re soft and kind, “One more thing.”

“Go for it, Norris.” I’m whispering but I don’t know why.

There’s no one around, just the faint sound of music and waves crashing. “Can I kiss you?” It’s something so simple that I want to cry.

I smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Norris.” He gives me a look, “Yes, Lando. You can kiss me anytime.”

And so he does.

⋆༺

LANDO

She smells like coconuts and tastes like mint. Her lips are soft against mine.

Our first kiss was on this beach, but it was different. It was hungry and intrigued. I was drunk and she was ethereal.

Now, she’s still beautiful but I'm not drunk. She’s soft. Does that make sense? It makes sense to me. She’s soft against me, his hands brush my neck and cheek, I can feel her smile against me.

Her kiss is something writers dream about and something I’ve imagined in a million different scenarios.

The start of this trip, my main goal was to tease and bug her until she broke. My goal now has been fulfilled with her promise of a real date and her kissing me like I actually mean something to her.

I like that I mean something to her.

She pulls back, her hands on my neck and in my hair, “You’re really beautiful too, you know.” Her lipgloss is smudged and her dress is getting wrinkled under my touch.

I take her in, every inch of her. I want to burn this moment in my brain forever. I haven’t stopped smiling for hours and it’s all because of her. “You’re amazing.”

She laughs, “You don’t have to one up my compliment.” I really didn’t mean to even try.

“I’m serious.” Her face tells me she understands suddenly, “Thank you, Y/n. You really are my favorite surprise this trip.”

She smiles, her hand on my chest, “I never believed our friends. They used to say how great we’d be together.”

“They’re geniuses and I owe them my life.” I shrug as she laughs my favorite laugh in the world: the one where I make her head drop and her teeth show.

“I’m sorry I ever was mean to you.”

“That’s alright…” I push back a strand of her hair, “Everyone needs a bit of foreplay.”

LANDONORRIS

landonorris DUMP FROM MARMARIS!! I miss it and I hate the rain.

username262 : TAN LANDO IS BACK

↳ username32 : he’s literally always tan i’m jealous

yourusername : 😊☀️

↳ landonorris :😋🫵

↳ username123 : what…?

username01 : who is the girl lando??

↳ username44 : his friend!! him and some drivers + girlfriends were on the trip

↳ username56 : interesting that they were the only single ones there…

pierregasly : let’s go back

charlesleclerc : alexandra is already planning another one (this time as a true couples trip)

↳ landonorris : WOAHHH SHHH

landofan4 : she’s sooo pretty istg how do these men pull these women!?

↳ username628 : they’re not even confirmed??

↳ username25 : trust me they will be in a month.

carlossainz : maybe you won’t suck at golf next time

↳ lilymunihe : not likely.

kikagomez : treat her poorly and i’ll punch you

↳ yourusername : punch him!

↳ landonorris : i haven’t even done anything?? and i wont!!!

maxfewtrell : thanks for the invite

alexalbon : I love the part of this dump where the only solo pics are of you and Y/n……..🤨🤨🤨🤨

↳ yourusername : funny alex my favorite part is the same thing😁😁😁