#mimosa x reader

[sweetsugarcakes]

Do you have any relationship headcanons for Yuno and Mimosa (Black Clover)

yepp ofc I do😌

General relationship headcanons

Yuno and Mimosa

Yuno

🍃this man cares so much about you

🍃when he’s in a type of mood of being agitated, you always calm him down

🍃he loves giving forehead kisses to you to show how much he loves you

🍃the wind spirit always gets jealous of you two. She’ll have something snarky to say about which makes Yuno get mad and just glares at yer to stop. She does stop.

🍃after training or going on missions he can’t wait for to cuddle with you once their home

🍃his dates are always romantic, he knows what would make you happy

🍃you help him get strong to achieve his dream of being the wizard king

🍃he’s also overprotective but in a bit of a calm way. All he’ll do is either glare or threaten another person in a mama but calm way

Mimosa

🌼this girl gets flustered on anything you do

🌼she gets all flushed from holding hands, hugging and kisses.

🌼when she’s a bit scared she’ll cling onto your arms or your back

🌼every time you come back from a mission if your hurt, she’ll heal you and gets worried for you.

🌼she loves cuddling, you guys cuddles everyday and night

🌼once your all healed she take care of you when your resting. She’ll lay next to you and kisses your shoulder or cheek.

🌼half of the time Noelle is a bit happy since mimosa doesn’t like asta anymore. She’s also jealous of your relationship she wishes she could confess to asta so they could be like you guys.

🌼she always loves giving and receiving flowers, they mean everything to her

[hifirushimagines]

Mimosa x isolated! reader who secretly sends her gifts but is too shy to show her face to the public

Mimosa x Isolated!Reader

TW; Introvert/isolated

Notes; A/N

⊱ ────────────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───────────── ⊰

Mimosa always receives gifts and mails from her wonderful fans always recognizing the same names over and over, some not so secret admirer and the occasional flowers from wannabe suitors, until she finds one that doesn't have a tag from anyone. Opening the small gift to a hand carved wooded Peacock with small gems in the feathers as much as it looked tacky, she admired the piece placing it on her vanity while the other gifts she goes through are placed on the side

Then after another week of gifts arrives again at her door going through it as usual find the same untagged gift from last time opening it to another wood carved piece this time of Tiger with it's eye having sapphire gems in them as she places the feline next to the Peacock she finally notices a note rolled up in it's mouth

Reading it saying how wonderful she is on the stage when she spreads her wings or the way her twirls look more magical, she couldn't help but be flustered at the complements she reads even though she read similar writing before but for some reason this person caught her attention

She'll wait for the next gift she receives from the mystery admirer who she now calls 'Little Deer' her vanity now filling with the wooden figures from a fox to a horse each with varying gemstones embed in them and a small note on them

For a week she notices she has received a gift from Little Deer but she believes that they are probably busy then another week goes by, then another, then another, until a month goes by the superstar visible upset by the sudden disappearance. As she applies her makeup she hears a soft knocking at her door going to open it she hears running footsteps as she opens it, glancing around until she sees a new figure at her footstep a swan but carved from Quartz

When she asks security to rewind the cams to see how left the figure at her door she sees a person dressed in a dark blue dress and black pants with a brown apron on, placing the item down in front of her door then run away when they knocked on her door

For a while this went on until she starts to remember the time they come by and drop a gift at her door so when she finally decides to meet face to face, she'll open her door as they set down another figure this time a Blue Topaz Deer. Mimosa will invite them in as she sets down the figure on her vanity to finally talk to hem

[husbandograveyard]

This drabble is part of my summer celebration collection! Prompt: Gardening Characters featured: Mimosa (Black Clover), 2nd person GN Reader Requested by: @blueflamebimbo [a/n]: Mentions of hurt in this one, no graphic descriptions at all, reader is just too distracted by the beautiful Mimosa and is a bit of a clutz!

Summer gardening is your favorite, because despite the heat, and the fact that you need to water more regularly, there is very little else you have to do. Most of the heavy lifting is done in late fall and early spring, and you are more than happy to just enjoy the fruits of your labour in summer. 

Well, the fruits of the communal labor of everyone involved in the gardens in the Golden Dawn, which is only partly you. Mimosa gets credit for a big chunk of the work, and you? Well you get credit for helping out whenever Mimosa is around because your huge crush makes it ever so easy to volunteer your help whenever you have time and see her put on her gardening gloves. 

So now you’re doing some weeding and pruning, listening to the gentle hums coming from Mimosa as she’s working as well. You don’t make much process, too preoccupied by numerous romantic scenario’s playing in your mind. How you wish you had the guts to make any of them come true, just a word should be en- 

“Auch!” You let out a surprised yelp when you cut your finger and not a branch, making Mimosa come over immediately, concern apparent in her eyes as she takes your hand in hers. Momentarily your pain is forgotten, and it’s as if a jolt of electricity travels from where her fingertips touch your skin to all the way to your heart. 

With some of her magic, your finger is healed in no time, but you can’t help but stay close, smile at her, not let go of her hand just yet. She doesn’t move away either, instead just smiles at you, warning you to be more careful next time. 

“What were you so distracted by, anyway?” she asks. It’s a lighthearted question, meant to distract you and get things on the road again. But you see it differently: this is your chance.

[poundstonaira]

Yuno Grinberryall x Reader - Shuttle

A/N - It's been awhile so I forgot how to post on here. It's not that I left the fandom, life gets in the way of my hobbies. Now here I am, coding video games :D

Word Count : 1654

To fall in love is weird. Why do we fall in love?

Is it mainly because of the aura of the person that we are in love with? The aesthetic of falling in love overall? The feelings we can’t ignore in our body? The sake of falling in love? 

It’s all so strange, uncomfortable, but at the same time it is… enduring. 

Right now, there were no missions that were assigned, this means that you guys were in the center garden of the Golden Dawn base doing whatever you guys did, whether that would be Badminton, play card games, board games, reading, or gossiping. It didn’t matter to you guys as long as you were having fun.

And that your crush (the vice-captain of the Golden Dawn) was watching you.

“Come on, Klaus.” You groaned, eyeing him with pure disappointment in your eyes. Klaus and you were playing Badminton since you wanted a challenge. You guys did not have your capes on because they would’ve gotten in the way of you playing. Although the both of you were fairly good at the sport, you were better.  “Serving isn’t hard at all.” You sighed, watching him mess up his flick serve. 

The two of you were playing on a makeshift court, with Klaus using his magic to make a solid ground for you guys to play on, and the net being brought by you from your manor, you even brought the racquets and the shuttlecocks from your house as well. How dedicated.

“_/_, we’ve been playing for an hour now. Cut me some slack, will you?” Klaus wiped the sweat off of his forehead. He  was right, Badminton is an extremely tiring sport, regardless if you’ve been playing for just a few minutes. You kept wondering how Klaus was able to keep this up without his glasses, though. He was pretty blind. 

“For a Magic Knight, you have really low stamina.” You teased him, sticking your tongue out at him. “Don’t worry, consider this our training session.” 

“You lost the last set.” He retorts, fixing his posture. 

“Well…” You sucked your cheeks in. “I got lazy. Anyway, I’m waiting for you to start again.” You got back into your starting position. 

“_/_, look who decided to watch us play.” Klaus squinted his eyes then smiled at you, and you felt your heart sink to your stomach. You slowly but surely turned your head around to see Mimosa and Yuno walking towards your direction, talking about whatever on earth they were talking about. You felt yourself going into a cold sweat and then your body went warm. 

Your crush was here. Was he about to watch you play? 

‘Yuno is here? Oh, I REALLY have to lock in! Act normal, expeditiously!’

“You guys are playing Badminton without us?” Mimosa asked, sticking out her bottom lip, expressing a playful, sad face. 

“Yeah,  guys. Bad form.” Yuno added, putting his thumb down in playful disapproval. 

“Sorry, vice-captain Yuno.” Klaus bowed and you rolled your eyes at the extra, not-needed formalities. 

“Don’t apologize to him, Klaus. If he really wanted to play, he would’ve been here earlier. Mimosa’s off the hook because she’s … Mimosa.” You said, masking your feelings easily. You cannot let Yuno know that you like him. That would be so out of character for you.

“Ouch?”  Yuno responded in a dry tone, putting his hand to chest while Mimosa giggled. 

“Are you ready, _/_?” The pale-blue haired man asked you as he held the shuttlecock in his left hand and his racquet in his right, in position and ready to serve, standing straight. You got into your regular starting position; a light squat, racquet in front of you as you were a little bit below the net level. You heard the grass move as Yuno and Mimosa sat down on the grass, ready to watch in silence. 

“Of course.” 

As soon as you said that, the shuttlecock was already flying in your direction and you easily tipped it over the net and back to Klaus, and then he tipped it over to you again, and ditto. You realized you weren’t going to get any height playing like this. Tipping the shuttle over the net and having it come back to you wasn’t bad or anything, but it was boring and you wanted to get some action for Yuno to see. You moved back during the boring rally and then tipped it over with a bit more force, causing Klaus to jog backwards and do a smash, letting the shuttle quickly fly over to you.

“Tch.” You let out some air, allowing your body to not get tired. As soon as the shuttlecock landed to your side of the net, you gently swung your racquet down, allowing him to go for a jump-smash. 

‘He’s going for a jump-smash already?’ You thought to yourself as you flicked your wrist to let your racquet bounce the shuttlecock back to Klaus in a matter of seconds. 

‘No mistakes can be made while the vice-captain is watching me.’ 

Klaus readies himself to jump-smash again, but he was only able to smash the shuttle back without jumping to you because of how quick it came. 

‘Now it’s my time to jump.’

You got into your jump-smash position; you lightly squat with the racquet in front of your body and still in your hand, and then you jump into the mid-air, your other hand guiding you to where the shuttle was going in your direction, and then you smashed it down with honorable speed, with a loud grunt leaving your mouth as your feet touched the ground again. 

The shuttle ended up going right behind Klaus, it went so fast he couldn’t get it to connect to his racquet in time. 

You were left a panting mess from the amount of energy you exerted in the short amount of time. Then again, you were playing with him for an hour. 

“That was… incredible.” You heard your crush say, clapping. 

‘He’s praising me? Oh my goodness, this can’t be real.’ 

“Indeed. _/_ is so fast, it’s amazing.” Mimosa praised you. You wiped the sweat dripping from your forehead and sighed, needing water. Klaus on the other hand sat on the ground like someone who lost a track and field race. 

“The two of you should take a break. Save your energy for tomorrow’s assignments.” The vice-captain told the two of you, you then looked at him, studying that charming, youthful face of his.  The butterflies in your stomach started to do their silly little dance when Yuno stared at you back with those charming, amber eyes of his.  Him squinting his eyes caused you to splutter out a response.  

“Really? But we didn’t finish the set yet.” You pouted, pointing at Klaus’ defeated figure.

“How long have you two been playing for?” The red-haired girl asked, eyeing the both of you. 

“An hour at least.” 

“And you still have this much stamina? I’m impressed.” 

‘He’s impressed!? Huh!?’

“Of course you’re impressed by me, I’m the best Badminton player you’ll ever know.” You stuck your tongue out, doing a peace-sign. In return, Yuno gives you a down-ward smile,silently laughing at your childishness. 

“Don’t listen to her, vice-captain Yuno.” Klaus retorted. 

“Stop being a hater, Klaus. It is not good for the soul and spirit.”  

“I was actually going to expose a secret of yours that would force the vice-captain to make his eyebrow raise but honestly, nevermind.”

“I’ll behead you.” 

…

“Goodness gracious, _/_. You played so well but were rough at the same time.” You heard Yuno clap as he got up from the grass, Mimosa running to check on Klaus as he sat on the ground, visibly annoyed.

A starfish. A sweaty, exhausted starfish on the floor with your racquet next to you. That is the pose you did after you did the last jump-smash to win the game against Klaus. You even couldn’t look at Yuno’s frame from the position you were in. To say you were knackered to the core would be an understatement. 

“Thank you… Yuno…” You breathed out slowly with your eyes closed. Luckily for you, the sun was now hiding behind the clouds as the day was slowly coming to an end. It was what you needed to not feel more exhausted than you already are. 

“Need a hand?” Your crush was on top of you, smiling, reaching his hand out to you to get out. He literally had each leg on both sides of your torso which made your body feel warm again. If only the scenario was different. Poor you.  

“Please.” You reached your arm to his and he automatically pulled you up with such ease. The strength itself caught you off guard that you almost lost your balance but Yuno stabilized you with his arms. That was so hot of him. 

“Wow… You’re stronger than I thought.” You muttered, your arm feeling a bit sore. You could really do with a massage right about now. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He smiled and you raised your eyebrows at your backhanded compliment. 

“Didn’t mean to call you weak but…” Yuno looked at you right in the eyes, practically staring into your soul. Your face heated up and lost your train of thought. He was so handsome with lovely amber eyes and the small specks of brown which hid around them. His eyelashes were so pretty and long, they curled at the tips. You were staring into his eyes so intensely which made you feel very weak in the knees. “You’re so…” 

“Hmm?” Yuno’s scent engulfed you, it engulfed you too much. His musk smelt fresh, like sandalwood and vanilla.   

“Nevermind… I’m just in love with you.” 

And strangely enough, he didn’t push you away. Instead, he laid a warm kiss on your temple.

“And I’m okay with that.” 

[www-findringo-com]

I recently got back into Black Clover, and i miss my sweet princess yuno so much. So i'm making this series out of boredom.... enjoy!!!

Next

From Afar

A Yuno Grinberryall × Fem!reader written by Ringociocco.

Playlist

1. Somethin' stupid - Frank Sinatra, Nancy Sinatra

2. See you again - Tyler The Creator, Kali Uchis

3. Heart racing - Kanii, Riovazz, Nimstarr

4. I must apologise - Pinkpantheress

5. Pain - Pinkpantheress

6. Back to the old house - The Smiths

7. Hatachi no koi - Lamp

8. A night to remember - Beabadoobee, Laufey

9. Infrunami - Steve Lacy

10. Lovers rock - Tv Girl

11. Tek it - Cafunè

12. Something about you - Eyedress, Dent May

13. Notion - The Rare Occasions

14. Looking out for you - Joy Again

15. Show me how - Men I Trust

16. The perfect pair - Beabadoobee

17. Duvet - Bôa

18. The way things go - Beabadoobee

19. Lovesick - Laufey

20. Glue song - Beabadoobee, Clairo

21. Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

22. First love/ late spring - Mitski

CHARACTER LIST

not stealing Sawako from kimi ni todoke,

this is just the way i visualise the MC.

https://pin.it/5qqyzbuSk

(Hanabi Pinterest Board)

Name: Y/N Hanabi

Age: 6 (Prologue) 15 (meeting Julius) 16 (at the entrance exam)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Firework Form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Commoner of the common realm

Squad: Blue Rose

Close friends: Asta, Noelle Silva, Mimosa Vermillion, Magna Swing, Luck Voltia, Leopold Vermillion, Sol Marron, Puli Angel, Charlotte Roselei, Wainsley, Yuno, Serene Kira .

Name: Yuno

Age: 16 (when he meets Y/N)

Pronouns: He/Him

Magic: Wind form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Paesant of the forsaken realm

Squad: Golden Dawn

Close friends: Asta, Mimosa Vermillion, Klaus Lunette, Y/N Hanabi, Bell .

Name: Asta

Age: 16 (when he meets Y/N)

Pronouns: He/Him

Magic: Anti-Magic

Mana: None

Status: Paesant of the forsaken realm

Squad: Black Bulls

Close friends: Yuno, Noelle Silva, Magna Swing, Luck Voltia, Finral Roulacase, Vanessa Enoteca, Charmy Pappitson, Gauche Adlai, Gordon Agrippa, Grey, Secre Swallowtail, Zora Ideale, Henry Legolant, Nacht Faust ,Yami Sukehiro, Mimosa Vermillion, Klaus Lunette, Leopold Vermillion, Rill Boismortier, Sally, Kahono, Kiato, Mars, Fana, Fanzell Kruger, Liebe, Rebecca Scarlet, Y/N Hanabi, Lolopechika .

Name: Sol Marron

Age: 19 (At Y/N's entrance exam)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Earth Form

Mana: Commoner level

Status: Commoner rescued by Charlotte Roselei

Squad: Blue Rose

Close friends: Charlotte Roselei, Puli Angel, Y/N Hanabi, Wainsley, Borja, Risacca, Selena, Galgaria .

Name: Charlotte Roselei

Age: 27 (At Y/N's entrance exam)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Briar form

Mana: Noble level

Status: Noble, Blue Rose brigade Captain

Squad: Blue rose

Close friends: Sol Marron, Puli Angel, Y/N Hanabi, Wainsley, Borja, Risacca, Selena, Galgaria, Dorothy Unsworth, Yami Sukehiro( kind of).

Name: Noelle Silva

Age: 16 (When she meets Y/N)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Water form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Noble of the house of Silva

Squad: Black Bulls

Close friends: Asta, Magna Swing, Luck Voltia, Finral Roulacase, Vanessa Enoteca, Charmy Pappitson, Gauche Adlai, Gordon Agrippa, Grey, Secre Swallowtail, Zora Ideale, Henry Legolant, Nacht Faust ,Yami Sukehiro, Mimosa Vermillion, Kahono, Kiato, Y/N Hanabi, Lolopechika .

Name: Mimosa Vermillion

Age: 17 (When she meets Y/N)

Pronouns: She/Her

Magic: Plant form

Mana: Noble level

Status: Noble of the house of Vermillion

Squad: Golden Dawn

Close friends: Yuno, Klaus Lunette, Asta, Noelle Silva, Y/N Hanabi, Lolopechika, David, Letoile, Hamon, Dorothy Unsworth .

Name: Julius Novachrono

Age: 43 (When he meets Y/N)

Pronouns: He/Him

Magic: Time form

Mana: Royal level

Status: Wizard King

Ex-Squad: Grey Deer

Close Friends: Yami Sukehiro, William Vangeance, Marx, Damnatio Kira, Owen, Serene Kira.

PROLOGUE

Ever since i was a kid, I could remember the townsfolk around me praising me for my silly magic: " Wow, Y/N! you're really living up to the Hanabi name"

I never understood if they were making fun of me for my name and magic or if they were actually impressed by my childish magic, either way I played along: I acted nice and thankful to them, entertaining them with my fireworks and putting on a show for those who were so unfortunate to not own enough magic. As I grew up, I kept seeing my magic as stupid and useless, but everything changed when that woman from the land of the sun stumbled in our hostel.

"Uhm, excuse me, are there rooms available?"

That woman was beautiful, with long silky black hair, and her deep black eyes had a shape that could make the prettiest woman in the world jealous. She was so different, yet it was impossible not to find her beautiful. Even I ,a 6 year old, found her attractive.

Time passed by, and that woman never left, Mizuki was her name, and she said it meant hope. Hope is a concept that she embraced wholeheartedly. Being able to survive the trip from the land of the sun to the clover kingdom was a miracle, and thanks to it, she regained the strength to "hope." Mizuki taught me a lot about her homeland, and I was so fascinated by it. Not only that, but she also helped me work my magic with her knowledge and with her "hope."

"Your magic, it reminds me a lot of festivals back home," She spoke softly: "It's a very unique attribute. I think you'll become a great mage Y/N-chan!" .

I scoffed. Me? A great mage? As if, I'm a lowly commoner with the stupid magic of creating silly sparkles. Yet she was so convinced of herself that I almost believed it for a moment. Time passed, and I grew, and Mizuki never left. To be honest, I was glad. She was the first person who was true to me.

I was 14 now. One year left before i could get my grimoire. I was walking home when I saw Mizuki walking out of the town with her bags. I froze.

"Mizuki! Please, wait. "

She turned around, and in that moment, my memories of her arrival here came back in my mind.

Even if i didn't notice, she had changed so much. Her long silky black hair was now short and not as beautiful as it once was, her clothing from the traditional clothes of her land to the rowdy commoner clothes of the clover kingdom. The only things that didn't change were her piercing, unique black eyes that, to my surprise, were swelling in tears as she took in the vision of me.

My vision was blurry, my lips started to pout, and i could feel something ticklish and wet falling down my cheek. Mizuki dropped her bags, froze for a second, and then started sprinting towards me. I knew what was coming, so instinctively, I opened my arms, waiting for her embrace. One that had conforted me for 7 years, the same one that made me feel safe and happy.

" Y/N-chan, I am so sorry. I never meant to leave you like this, but my homeland has summoned me back, and I still have a duty to fulfil back there." She stopped for a second as she sobbed uncontrollably. "My dear, I'll miss you so much. These years have been the greatest of my life, and with you, I sealed a bond no magic will ever break. So please. Never forget me and know that I will be back!"

" I hope so, Mizuki!"

The feeling of her embrace was one I could not forget. She was gone, but her touch was still on my skin.

I walked back into my family's hostel, and I was met by my relatives wearing gloomy faces. They, too, had a bond with the foreigner. I went up to my room, reminiscing on everything I could have done with Mizuki or everything i should have told her. When I noticed a medium-sized box on my bed, next to it laid a letter titled : To my Dear Y/N. The letter was signed by Mizuki, so i took no second thoughts and immediately opened it.

Inside, the letter read:

Dear Y/N, I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly, but there are just many things in my country that I yet need to discover. Over the years, we have built an amazing bond, a string that no matter how strong the magic it will never break us apart. A string that will always lead us back to one another. That is my hope.

Even if it takes us a hundred years, we will meet again, and for me to recognise you From Afar i gift you this piece of clothing from my country. It is a modified piece to be more comfortable in battle because I know you will become the strongest mage in the whole kingdom of clover. In the occasion that it happens, I ask you not to forget your values nor me, the same way as I will never forget you, my darling.

As of now, there isn't much for me to say, I hope you don't despair for me because I don't want my beautiful sparkle to loose it's fire. Whatever happens, just know I will protect you From Afar Y/N-chan.

All my love. Mizuki.

I stared at the letter for a few minutes before little water droplets started to fall on the paper. I hated crying it was a way to express weakness, yet I couldn't stop my tears from overflowing in my eyes.

I sat there in silence a few second, the only thing you could hear were my short sobs and my breath hitches. Then, I decided to open the box.

Inside was a kimono, but it was different from the ones she wore: It didn't have a skirt and the ends of it were very loose; even the top was loose which was weird since she taught me that wearing the kimono incorrectly was just offensive and rude yet here it was an immodest kimono wow. Ironic Mizuki. The sleeves started very tight and after the elbow it got insanely large. Even if this was VERY modified, it still looked cool. The whole cloth was mainly a dark red adorned with traditional cloud motives and the bottom of the sleeves had red hibiscus flowers on them.

Next to the kimono sat many other things: An obi alongside an obi-age and an obi-shime, a big headpiece with a bow and somesort of upside down small fan? That's what it looked like. And huge wooden sandals, which I'm pretty sure the sole was a bit too big.

" Thank you, Mizuki "

Even when she was going to abandon me, she still thought of leaving something for me to wear in the future. That woman is full of kindness in her heart.

We'll meet again someday, I know it

Author's Note

Ermmmm, I have no idea if this will actually make it in my brain as a fanfiction, but i'll try to keep it updated! In the meantime, please enjoy this intro + short prologue!!!

The MC is kinda based off my Oc and you can kinda see that, I did also put in another Oc of mine who i didn't give info about if you want to know more about Serene Kira let me know!

[maniacparrot]

Mimosa : "Do you dislike Nobels?"

Me : "Yeah, I hate nobels. BUT! If they have black hair, blue eyes, is older than me than...it's a different story."

Nacht : *sneezes*

[bows-n-fluff]

I wonder if you could write for Black Clover : Mimosa Vermillion X Male! Reader. It will be a modern AU. The reader is a childhood friend of Noelle and he’s the only son of a wealthy family, the oneshot will concern Asta, Yuno, Noelle, Klaus, Mimosa, Yami, Leopold, William and the rest of the Black Bulls and Golden Dawn members celebrating Y/N’s birthday.

I haven't written or read anything for male reader before but I tried

Hopefully its somewhat what you expected

(Mimosa Vermillion x Male! Reader | Modern AU | Birthday Celebration)

One Week Before the Party – The Golden Dawn Headquarters

“You want us to help plan a birthday party?” Klaus’s skeptical gaze shifted between Noelle, Mimosa, and a very tired Yuno, who had been roped into this conversation against his will.

Noelle crossed her arms. “Not just any birthday party. It’s Y/N’s, and as a friend of his from childhood and probably his only friend at the time, I refuse to let it be anything less than perfect.”

Mimosa nodded along, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. “He’s always been the calm, composed, responsible one, so it would be nice if, just for once, he could relax and enjoy himself.”

“…I see.” Yuno, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke. “If it’s for Y/N, I’ll help. But you know how he is—he won’t enjoy anything too extravagant.”

Mimosa nodded. “That’s why we’re keeping it elegant, but fun.”

Klaus was still skeptical. "And why exactly does Captain Vangeance need to be involved?"

At that moment, William, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. "Because Y/N is a member of The Golden Dawn. If we're arranging something for him, it’s only natural that I oversee the event." His voice was calm. "Besides, it’s rare for our squad to celebrate such occasions. "

Klaus sighed in defeat. “Fine. But the party will remain elegant.” He shot a pointed look at Noelle. “Which means we must be careful about who we invite.”

Noelle stiffened slightly. “Of course. Only the members of The Golden Dawn and I will be there.” She explained.

Mimosa, lost in thought, spoke quietly. “I just hope… I get a chance to talk to him properly that night.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow. “You mean—”

“Nothing!” Mimosa yelped, turning red. “Let’s just focus on the arrangements!”

Present Day – The L/N Estate

Everything had been perfectly arranged. The venue—a luxurious ballroom in Y/N’s family estate—was decorated with warm golden lights, elegant centerpieces, and a grand buffet lined with the finest food and drinks.

Guests from the Golden Dawn and a select few nobles mingled, the atmosphere refined yet celebratory. Y/N himself had spent the first hour greeting people, indulging in light conversation, and doing his best to enjoy the night.

And then—

CRASH!

"WHOOPS!"

The entire room turned toward the grand entrance, where Asta stood frozen, a toppled champagne tower beside him.

Right behind him, Captain Yami strolled in like he owned the place, exhaling smoke from his cigarette. "Not bad, rich kid. Fancy place ya got here."

Trailing behind him was every single member of the Black Bulls.

Luck was already grinning, eyes darting around for someone to fight. Vanessa had somehow acquired a wine glass within seconds. Finral was winking at every noblewoman in sight. Gordon muttered something no one could hear. Asta challenged Leopold to an arm wrestling match and Magna had somehow gotten the spectators to place bets on Asta or Leopold.

Y/N stood there, stunned.

"...What the hell is going on?" Klaus demanded.

Asta scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Uh… I might have accidentally told Captain Yami about the party when we were training the other day."

Noelle visibly paled. "You WHAT?"

"Oi, don’t act all surprised," Yami smirked, clapping Y/N on the back. "Of course we came to celebrate, right?!"

“None of you are even acquainted with Y/N. It's best you leave.” Yuno said, deadpanned.

“I agree. Let's not steal the attention away from Y/N for tonight” William chimed in.

“Eh, it's not a big deal. Noelle knows him and she's one of us so it's basically the same thing.” Yami retorted, throwing the used cigarette onto the floor.

Before anyone could stop it, the Black Bulls had fully integrated themselves into the event.

This was supposed to be his night. A celebration for him. A moment where, for once, he didn’t have to worry about etiquette, status, or expectations. But instead of feeling at ease, he felt like a glorified babysitter.

He had spent all evening keeping his usual composed demeanor intact, but it was cracking. The noise, the interruptions, the pure, unfiltered chaos—it was too much.

No one seemed to notice how tense his jaw was. How tired his smiles had become. How, despite all the laughter around him, his patience was wearing dangerously thin.

With a sharp breath, he turned on his heel and strode toward the grand balcony door. No one noticed him leave amongst the chaos. No one, except Mimosa.

The Balcony – A Moment of Solitude

The night air was crisp against his skin as he stepped onto the balcony, overlooking the cityscape. Tall buildings stretched toward the sky, their lights flickering like stars. The sound of cars and distant laughter hummed in the background.The city stretched endlessly before him, golden lights twinkling against the deep indigo sky.

It should have been beautiful.

It was beautiful.

And yet, all Y/N felt was exhaustion.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Out here, away from the overwhelming noise, he could finally think.

And yet—

“HEYYYY, WHO WANTS TO START A FIREWORK WAR?!”

Y/N’s eye twitched as he still heard the commotion echoing from inside.

Unbelievable.

He gripped the railing, his knuckles turning white. He wanted to enjoy this night, but how could he when he felt more like a referee than a guest?

Even out here, he could hear the faint sounds of shouting, laughter, shattering glasses—making it clear that, inside, the chaos continued without him.

He closed his eyes.

This wasn’t what he wanted.

All he had wanted was a peaceful evening, surrounded by people he genuinely cared for.

Instead, it had turned into an overwhelming spectacle—loud, crowded, chaotic.

And he couldn’t even be angry about it, because he knew just how much effort Noelle had put into arranging this.

That didn’t change the fact that he wanted to scream.

Another breath. In. Out.

Yet the tension in his chest refused to fade.

His fingers drummed against the railing as his jaw tightened. He just needed one moment—one moment to himself, where he didn’t have to pretend.

And then—

"Y/N?"

His eyes snapped open.

Turning slightly, he saw her.

Mimosa stood at the threshold of the balcony, her light golden-brown hair cascading down her shoulders. Unlike the others, she wasn’t flushed from drinking or caught up in the wild energy of the party.

Instead, she looked at him with quiet concern.

She hesitated before stepping closer. "Are you okay?"

Y/N exhaled slowly.

"Yeah," he murmured, turning back to the skyline. "Just… needed some air."

She didn’t say anything at first.

Then, after a moment, she leaned against the railing beside him, following his gaze toward the city.

"I thought you might," she said softly.

A breeze passed between them, cool and refreshing.

For the first time that night, Y/N felt like he could breathe.

And then—

“…I’m sorry it turned out this way."

Y/N blinked. "What?"

Mimosa looked down, fiddling with the ruffles of her dress. "I know this wasn’t the kind of night you wanted."

His grip on the railing loosened slightly.

She continued, voice gentle. "We really tried to make it nice for you. But… I can tell it’s been overwhelming."

Y/N let out a dry chuckle. "Overwhelming is putting it lightly."

Mimosa pursed her lips, guilt flickering across her face. "...I just wanted to make sure you felt appreciated tonight."

At that, Y/N turned to her fully.

She wasn’t just saying that out of politeness.

She meant it.

Her voice softened further. "You do so much for everyone, Y/N. You carry so many expectations, and I don’t think people ever stop to ask if you’re okay."

His chest tightened.

"I see it," she murmured. "The way you force yourself to endure things. How you smile even when you’re exhausted. You always try to be strong for others, but… I wish you’d let yourself be human too."

Y/N swallowed.

For a moment, he was at a loss for words.

Then, slowly, she reached into her purse and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped box.

"I, um… got you something," she admitted, holding it out.

Y/N carefully took it from her hands, unwrapping it to find a dark green leather notebook with gold accents—his initials embossed on the cover.

Opening it, he found a handwritten note inside:

"For Y/N,

May this book hold your thoughts and dreams as dearly as you hold them in your heart. Wishing you the happiest birthday."

In the corner, a small, delicate floral design was drawn in ink.

Y/N felt warmth spread through his chest.

He looked up to see her flushed face.

"I wanted to give you something personal," she admitted, cheeks flushed. "Something that’s just for you. Something that no amount of your money could buy."

He carefully ran his fingers over the embossed letters, letting the weight of her words settle in.

“…You made this?”

Mimosa nodded shyly. “I know you keep handwritten records of everything… so I thought… maybe you'd want something to keep to yourself and write how you feel…”

A rare softness overtook his usually composed expression. “Mimosa, this is… perfect.”

She bit her lip, hands clasped in front of her. “I— I’m really glad you like it.”

“I love it,” he corrected, his voice gentle. “Seriously, it… means a lot to me.”

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the rest of the party faded away. The noise, the chaos, the dozens of people—it all melted into the background.

Mimosa felt her heart hammer against her ribs. She had spent days preparing this, rehearsing different ways to give it to him. But now that she was here, embedded in the shining indigo hue of the night, she realized she didn’t need a perfect speech.

“Y/N,” she murmured, fingers twitching at her sides.

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“I… I just—” She took a shaky breath. “I really admire you. Not because of your family or your status, but because of who you are.”

His expression softened even further.

“I know I can be clumsy with my words sometimes,” she continued, cheeks burning, “but I just wanted you to know that… you’re important to me.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, then, with a small chuckle, he reached out slowly, gently, and took her hand.

“Mimosa,” he said, his thumb brushing over her knuckles, “I already knew.”

Her breath hitched.

“You did?”

“I’m not that dense.” He smirked, squeezing her hand lightly. “And, for the record, you’re important to me too.”

Mimosa felt like she was floating. The warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his voice—this was everything she had hoped for.

“…You’re really sweet, Y/N,” she whispered.

“Only for you,” he replied smoothly, making her turn even redder.

Mimosa ducked her head slightly, voice barely above a whisper. "...I've liked you for a long time. And not just admiration but… "

“I love you too, Mimosa.” He interrupted, grinning softly ear to ear.

The city around them blurred.

The distant echoes of the party faded.

Mimosa looked up, startled—only to see the warmth in his expression.

And as the chaos raged on inside, the two of them remained on the balcony, wrapped in a moment that was theirs alone.

That was until the sound of muffled snickers caught their attention.

They both turned—only to find a group of familiar faces spying on them from behind a decorative plant.

Asta, Noelle, Leopold, and Luck all scrambled to look innocent, while Klaus dramatically cleared his throat.

Yami, arms crossed, smirked from a few feet away. “You two done makin’ heart eyes at each other?”

Mimosa yelped and snatched her hand away, utterly mortified.

Y/N groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Really?”

Finral whistled. “Well, that was the smoothest confession I’ve ever seen. Good job.”

Mimosa, now burning red, hid her face in her hands.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. “…You guys are the worst.”

“Oh my.” William, ever the composed one, simply gave a knowing smile. “At least the night ended on a lovely note.”

Y/N groaned louder. “Why is everyone like this?”

Mimosa giggled despite herself. Even with all the teasing, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Because tonight, under the moonlit sky and amidst all the chaos, her feelings had not only been heard but also reciprocated.

And that was worth more than anything else.

[amunyan]

It's getting later every day… although I've written all the chapters in advance, it's taking me a while to finalise them all and be halfway happy with them. But I will try my best to post them earlier the next days. My holydays are right around the next corner…

Christmas pop music fills the air in the shopping mall. On this third weekend in Advent, the shops and aisles, as well as the small cafés and restaurants, are full. Many people use this day to buy presents or spend time with friends.

Leopold Vermillion is no exception. He and his friends, Asta, Yuno, Noelle and Mimosa, are also out buying Christmas presents. The group happily ends up in a game store. At least Leo and Asta, who curiously accompanied him, did; the rest of the friends were more or less forced into the shop.

Now, while Leo looks around for a present for his older brother, being advised by Mimosa and Asta. Noelle feels a bit ashamed.

"This is a shop for little kids," she grumbles. Still, she seems to like it here, but she would never admit it.  Yuno, who came along because he didn't want to wait outside alone, wanders away from the group and seems very interested after giving some of the products a closer look.

By the time they meet again at the checkout, Yuno's purchase is even larger than Leo's.

"How can you have three full shopping bags? I only bought two “little” things for my brother!"

-They were a cube tower of an imaginative design - a tower with an onion roof, entwined with vines - and a matching set of cubes. Mimosa had picked them out, and Leo thought they were very pretty and appropriate for the campaign his brother is currently planning. -

With a shrug, Yuno looks at the two bags. He had taken a liking to the idea of role-playing with pen and paper and had quickly bought everything from books to dice and even figures to get started. "My parents still need presents for Christmas because they are always busy at work and travelling around the world. So they will be happy to wrap it up and I will act surprised under the Christmas tree".

While Leo still shakes his head at Yuno, even though it has secretly ignited his competitive spirit, the rest of the group has made an interesting discovery.

"That's our sports teacher over there, Mr. Sukehiro, right? And isn’t this (Y/N) with him?" Asta looks around to his friends questioningly as he points across the wide corridor to the accessories shop diagonally opposite the games shop.

It is you and Yami standing there. Neither of you are aware of the group of teenagers, all but one of them - all too subtly - disappearing behind one of the many decorative Christmas trees that line the mall.

"It's not funny - it's a children's scarf. With a stupid design too," Yami grumbles, pushing your hand down while you're almost in tears from laughing. "Oh come on, the dinosaurs with the Christmas hats are so cute."

"May I remind you that I want you to help me find something for Charlotte. Or are you already done because you have your fancy toffee, what do I know, coffee?"

"Sorry! But let me have a bit of fun," you wink at him as you spot a scarf by chance. You only saw it out of the corner of your eye, but you grab it immediately.

"Charlotte's favourite flowers are roses, aren't they?"

Yami nods in agreement, but equally confused, until you show him the scarf. A warm scarf, made of high quality fabric, decorated with a rose tendril pattern. Red roses on the front, blue on the back.

"Charlotte will love this," you whisper meaningfully as you teasingly wrap the scarf around him.

Yami just nods silently as a smile appears on his lips. Then he hugs the scarf tightly with his fingers. "Thanks. It's perfect."

"Sure. Will you see her at Christmas?"

He shakes his head and is about to tell you that he is not sure whether Charlotte has time or not.

But you don't let him get away with that, and contradict him. "No excuse! You have to invite her for Christmas Eve. Maybe for dinner. How romantic would that be? The two of you under the Christmas lights of the city, eating together and finally telling her about your feelings for her."

But Yami just blinks and seems a little overwhelmed by your suggestion, which makes you roll your eyes. "If you want, I can tell you the name of a very good Italian restaurant that Mereo and I always go to," you say with a meaningful look in your eyes.

"I'll think about it, but for now let me go and pay. OK?"

"Sure! But then you have to help me find something for Mereoleona. I was thinking of a cup, because I broke one of hers the other day."

Yami looks at you in surprise.

"The woman likes to drink, if I remember her correctly. And she is not into tea... Better buy her a bottle of her favourite beverage and off you go."

"Oh come on... that's so unimaginative... Can't you think of something better?"

"No. I think that's already perfect."

After your good friend has paid for his beloved's present, you stroll on through the shopping centre.

The shop, where Yami bought the scarf would had have other nice ones, but Mereo didn't really wear them. Most of the time she pulles the zip of her winter jacket up to just under her nose.

A few shops they are selling cosy blankets. But you don't buy it. Your lover was never really cold. She was always too warm, like an oven.

Mereoleona loves to cook, but you didn't think kitchen utensils belonged under the Christmas tree... Nevertheless, Yami and you dare to go to a kitchenware shop and have a look around.

All under the stunned gaze of the group of teenagers who had been spying on you.

"I can't believe it," Mimosa whispered in her soft voice. "Mr. Sukehiro is cheating on Miss Roselei. What a tragic skandal..."

"Don't exaggerate," Noelle grumbles.

"But how are you going to explain this?" She shows her friend all the photos she had secretly taken. Then she points at you both.

"Well," the youngest of the Silva's gets into a bit of explaining trouble and finally has to admit it. "They look very close, yes..."

"I... I think they are just good friends," Leo comments, but his expression is one of helplessness. "When we were at the Christmas market, we also met Mr. Sukehiro there. And they already seemed very close then. But... I mean, I know (Y/N). She is even closer to my brother. So... no problem, I guess."

"Do you want your brother to be (Y/N)'s boyfriend?" Asta looks at his friend.

 Leo just nods energetically. "I really like (Y/N). In fact, she is like a big sister to me."

"And I always thought about Mereoleona and her. Not really about your brother being together with (Y/N)," Noelle comments with a confused look on her face.

"Oh no! They are just really good and close friends," Leo says confidently, almost convinced. "They often go out for dinner after training, visit Fuegoleon and me for games nights and also go to the hot springs together."

"Doesn't sound like 'just friends' to me." Yuno's voice is dry and unimpressed as always, despite the - according to Mimosa - tragic skandal.

"Okay. Let's put (Y/N) and your siblings aside for a moment," Noelle says. "The question here is: why is Mr. Sukehiro cheating on our other teacher?" The rest of the group, except for Yuno, just nods.

"Could it just be a big misunderstanding?" He chimes in, but is drowned out by Asta's suggestion that they confront Yami at school on Monday, and the voices of agreement from the other three.

In the end, you decided to buy a cup after all. As you and Yami walked past a tea shop, near one of the exits of the mall, you noticed one of the cups on display.

Now at home, you take it out of your bag and unwrap it from all the paper that kept it save. You look at it again, still thinkig that it is cute. But you're still unsure.

"Despite Yami's concerns, I bought it anyway." You put the mug, which has no handle to make it look even more like a cup, on the kitchen counter with some of the other purchases.

It was early in the evening and Mereoleona would probably take her time getting home from work. So you use the time to take a shower before you put the shopping away and start cooking.

But when you come out of the bathroom, your girlfriend and host is already home. She is standing in the kitchen with the mug in her hands, you meant to give her, and is sceptically looking at it.

"You're home early," you say as you see her standing in the kitchen.

She looks at the mug with disapproval, even contempt. She does not like it at all. That is more than obvious. And something inside you tightens.

"What kind of ugly thing is that?"

You didn't want to tell her that you bought it for her. Not anymore... She would laugh at you and make you feel worse than you already do. So you decide to stick to the other truth.

"Yesterday I broke one of your cups in the morning. So I bought this one. I think it's nice, with all the little strawberries." By the end of the scene, your voice was getting higher and you were talking even faster. Perhaps to get through your attempt at explanation more quickly. But you still like the design is cute, but also minimalistic. Not too obtrusive...

As Mereo says nothing, you add, trying to sound as convincing as possible - as if that would help: "Oh, and it's a unique piece. I bought it today on my Christmas shopping trip. In a little tea shop in the mall. They work with the old and somewhat famous pottery on the northern edge of town".

As if she knew them. As if that would make the situation any better.

She looks at you with a raised eyebrow and misunderstanding in her eyes. "Are you really telling me that you bought an ugly 30€ cup to replace a 3€ Ikea cup?"

"Um... seems so?!!"

"Oh dear... That's nice of you, but you could have saved yourself that." She comes over to you and ruffles your still moisty hair. "But if you want, I can keep it. It's your cup, for whenever you're here at my home." With these words she presses the cup into your hand.

You grit your teeth and look away as the first tears form in your eyes. Not knowing what hurts more. The fact that she has insulted your gift, or that you still do not really know her?

[nichmeddar]

lando norris

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ mimosas? no, marriage!

welcome back lovers to the continuation of your little love with mr. norris 🧡!

content warning; nothing much, just scattered explicit language here and there — used a lot pinterest photos though.

summary; after that fateful dinner post-silverstone ‘23, life went on with you and lando.

here’s part one!

landonorris

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landonorris welp, let’s hope she doesn’t lose the ring in wet clays anytime soon 😇

to think that this all started because of a packet of gummy bears, i love you mrs. norris yourusername 🧡

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yourusername and i love you, mr. norris 💞!

landonorris im her husband guys 🤭

username may this kind of love find me ✋🏻

mclaren congratulations to our power couple 🥂!

jensonbutton and little lando norris isn’t so little anymore, congratulations to the beautiful couple ❤️.

lewishamilton congrats mate! wishing you two all the best, enjoy the ride!

oscarpiastri best hard launch of the season

username yes oscar, we can tell lando probably blurted it out to you first to bcs he was so excited

yourusername precisely ☺️

username HAHAHAH-

danielricciardo and we thought he’d be single for the rest of his life too 😔 congrats though 🥳

username THE FACT THAT YALL WERE AT HIS WEDDING TOO

landonorris tell me abt it 🙄 ungrateful asses 🙃

username con 😭 grat 😭 ula 😭 tions

carlosainz55 he finally found a girl- sorry, wife you guys!!

username our condolences carlos, your wag chose an even cooler person, sorry 😔🙏🏻

yourusername yes, says the man who was shitting tears whilst lando read his vows to ME 😍

alex_albon wait, we thought you’d take her last name??

landonorris … she’s only a few inches taller than me

georgerussell63 what’s your exact excuse really? shes older than you too

landonorris BY A YEAR 😭

username THE WAY HIS OWN FRIENDS R CLOCMIG BBIM ON HIS WEDDING POST CMON 😭😭😭

username EXACTLY 💀

—

September 10th, 2023 — Wedding Day

It was the day that you had dreamed of for as long as you could remember, yet nothing could truly prepare you for the flood of emotions that rushed over you as you stood there, facing Lando at the altar. He was grinning like a giddy schoolboy, as if the world had stopped just for you two. The sunlight poured in through the grand windows of the venue, casting a golden glow around him, making everything feel surreal.

You never imagined your wedding day would look like this, but standing before him, with the life you’d built together in the background, it was perfect.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“I do,” Lando echoed, his voice full of love and certainty, his hand gripping yours as if nothing else mattered.

—

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername yes, i got married to a man who drives a papaya coloured car 🥰 i love your mr norris landonorris

i’ll try my best not to lose the ring 😬

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username CONGRATULATIONS TO THE BEST CERAMIST AND HER PAPAYA GUY 🥂

charles_leclerc congrats to lando and démone 🥳

yourusername why thank you chicken 🥰

username NOT HIM CALLJNG HER A DEMON— whats the story here 💀⁉️

username apparently she used to terrorise him on the karting tracks when they were kids 🤠 hence the name demon ✋🏻

yourusername and he used to squabble like a chicken when he lost, so hence the name chicken ❤️

maxverstappen1 congrats!! still cant believe you guys were together and managed to keep it from us of all people 🙏🏻

sebastianvettel congratulations to the happy couple 💐!

yourusername thank you so much for the flowers, seb 🥹💞

kimimattiasraikkonen ❤️

username i absolutely love how the only chaotic comment is from charles while the others r congratulating her

username the stark difference from landos comments r killing me 💀

georgerussell63 you shouldve threatened him into taking your surname 😔 yours sounds way cooler

yourusername yknow what they said, we have to prioritise the little ones ☺️

danielricciardo youre too generous babes

username 💀💀💀✋🏻

landonorris … MY OWN WIFE GANGING UP ON ME

carlossainz55 ill crash your honeymoon ❤️

yourusername alexa, play the other woman by lana del rey 😇

username OH FFIHT FIGBT DIFB

username “there were three of us in this marriage” 💀💀

landonorris GUYS SHES MY WIFE NOW YAAAYY

yourusername 🧡🧡🧡

—

May 5th, 2024 - The Miami Grand Prix.

The moment everyone had been waiting for. Your heart raced as you watched Lando on your phone from your hotel room, feeling that familiar tension in the air as he crossed the finish line.

You weren’t there. And it broke you.

But there was a reason. You had been told to rest, to stay in bed, and most of all, to take it easy during the pregnancy’s more delicate stages. You hated that you couldn’t be there — you hated that you couldn’t be the one to throw your arms around him as he celebrated. But you knew Lando. He would be okay. He had this.

When the podium ceremony came, you were watching it all unfold on the screen, your hands clutched to your chest as you saw the familiar flash of cameras and heard the roar of the crowd. Lando was beaming, trophy in hand.

And then, with a wink, he pulled out his phone. A post.

You gasped, tears welling in your eyes as you took in the words. You were so proud. But more than anything, you were over the moon with joy. The world now knew: the Norris family was growing.

landonorris

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landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆 also, swipe for a lil’ surprise, thanks to everyone but especially my girls at home ❤️

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username DILF LANDO UNLOCKED????!!

username GIRLDAD LANDO IH MY GOD

f1 p1 and a baby girl on the way 🥳

username CONGRATS LANDAD 🌟🌟🌟

username baby norris on the way!!

username DIBS ON GODPARENT

username EY BACK OFF 🤺🤺

username NO YALL BACK OFF 🤺

—

yourusername

September 3rd, 2024

After months of preparation, late-night baby name debates, and countless check-ups, it was finally here. The moment you’d been waiting for. Your baby girl was on her way.

Lando was by your side through it all, his hand never leaving yours. Every contraction, every breath, he was there. His excitement was contagious, his nervousness endearing, and you could see the future unfolding right before your eyes. He was ready for this. You both were.

The room was a whirlwind of movement, but in that chaos, there was peace. There was love. And there were you two, together — now, with a little one in your arms.

When she finally arrived, you felt like you were holding the world in your hands. She was perfect. Small, wriggly, with a little tuft of dark hair and tiny fingers that gripped yours immediately.

You and Lando shared a quiet, overwhelmed smile.

“I love you,” Lando whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I love her. Our little girl.”

You nodded, your heart full. “She’s perfect, Lan.”

—

landonorris and yourusername

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landonorris the best parts of us came together in you, and now our hearts are full in ways we didn’t think possible. eden norris, edie, you are the most beautiful blessing to mummy and daddy. welcome to the world, sweet girl ❤️.

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Edie became the center of your universe. Life was a little more chaotic, a little more unpredictable — but it was beautiful. Lando would rush back from the race weekends just to kiss you and hold Edie close. The little girl, just two weeks old, had already captured his heart in a way that made you fall in love with him all over again.

You were a family now.

And although things had changed in ways you couldn’t have imagined, there was one thing that stayed constant: Lando’s love for you, for her, for this new life you were building together.

It wasn’t always easy. There were sleepless nights, endless bottles, and days where you felt like you were running on fumes. But you never once doubted that this, right here, was everything you had always dreamed of.

The world watched as Lando took the podium again, this time at the Singapore Grand Prix, the first race after Edie’s birth. You were there, cheering him on from the pit, Edie sleeping soundly in your arms. It was almost like a full circle moment: from wedding day to fatherhood, from your first win to this.

But this? This was your biggest victory yet. And as you watched Lando embrace his daughter for the first time in front of millions of people, you couldn’t help but think:

This was just the beginning.

soooo, SORRY FOR THE DELAY 😭✋🏻

y’all, i’m still emotionally recovering from the fact that max is going to be a father, so— this one is a bit half assed but i plan on re-editing some things when i get over this ☹️.

anywhos, i hope you all had a wonderful holiday and merry christmas to those who celebrate, hope y’all ate lots of good meals 😋!

i’m lowkey dipping my toes into smau as well so please be nice 😞✨.

anywho, please enjoy this lowkey dumpster fire 😛!!!

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bisexual Best Friend

Male Yandere x Fem Reader He just wants what's best for you. If he has to tell a few white lies now and again, then so be it.

When you first saw him, he had his tongue down your boyfriend's throat.

It sure as hell would not have been the start of a friendship, except...

He was the one who ran after you when you stormed out of the club, mascara and eyeshadow running in silvery streaks down your cheeks.

He was the one who hugged you and apologised and said your boyfriend was a piece of shit for doing that to you.

He was the one who got you home safe, cleaned off your makeup and left aspirin on your bedside table.

In your half haze of alcohol and tears, you clung to him and nuzzled into his neck and told him you were so grateful, that he was such a nice guy.

It wouldn't have been the start to a friendship and maybe it shouldn't have been. But you called him the next morning.

You apologised for being such a mess, stuttering just a little at the deep gruffness of his morning voice. He laughed and told you not to worry about, that you should've seen what a fool he made of himself when his boyfriend cheated.

You weren't sure how, but a phone call turned into lunch together. Both of you just a little tipsy from bottomless mimosas, his arm tossed across the back of your chair as he sketched out the horror of his last situationship.

"So you're gay?"

You should have noticed it then - the way he narrowed his eyes just a little, the way he let his fingers graze your bare shoulder, the way he seemed to take just a second too long to answer.

"Yeah. I'm into guys."

That was the first lie he told you. Not entirely untrue. He was into guys.

He was just into girls too. And he was especially into you.

He could have been honest with you, he could have told the truth. But you were still reeling from your boyfriend's betrayal, too guarded and hurt to let another man into you life.

And he so desperately wanted to be a part of your life.

The next time you asked him to hang out, you were so at ease. You hugged him when you saw him, your tits squished against his chest. You held his hand and dragged him along behind you. You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He smoothed your hair away from your face and any idea of telling the truth crumbled.

He told himself he just wanted to be your friend. Lord knows you needed one after such a nasty break up. But anyone who looked at you together could tell friendship was the last thing on his mind.

He took you to watch his favourite band performing live and hoisted you up on his shoulder for the encore, his hands inching further and further up your thighs.

He took you to his favourite club and bought you drink after drink until you danced with him, your arms thrown back around his neck and your ass grinding into his crotch. It was only the pulsing neon lights that kept you from seeing his hard on.

He invited you over for a movie night and pretended to lose the AC remote, just so he could share a blanket with you and keep his arm around your waist.

And the longer it went on, the worse it got. You were cute and clever and funny. You could yap together for hours about fashion and music and video games. You brought him little presents every time you came over - small packets of his favourite sweets, a new flavour of ice cream, his go-to Starbucks order.

Could you blame him for wanting you?

He started calling you his wifey, even in front of his friends. Would crack jokes about getting married if either of you couldn't find a guy by next year. And you went along with it. Ran your hands up his chest and fluttered your eyelashes at him and called him your strong, handsome fiancé - oblivious to the way it made his heart race.

When he walked in on you changing, he kept his face deadpan and told you red was definitely not your colour, even as you scrambled to cover up and spluttered at him to get out.

"Why? You aren't exactly my type babe."

Another lie. Not even remotely true this time.

And soon you got used to him walking in on you. Started asking him for fashion advice while you were in just your underwear and heels. Started asking him to tie your bikini tops and unzip your dresses. You didn't notice him always slipping away afterwards, one hand shoved deep in his pocket. You didn't notice the way his hair was always slightly messed up when he got back, his cheeks just a little flushed.

And if there were ever any warning bells - any subconscious instincts that told you he touched you too much, hugged you for too long - they were drowned out by his parade of boyfriends and flings. Why would he be into you when he could be dating a ripped surfer or hooking up with his personal trainer?

You never realised you were the reason his relationships were always so short lived. He couldn't fall for any of them the way he fell for you. They were all just quick fucks to get the frustration out of his system.

He could have continued just like that - fucking a new guy every weekend and getting brunch with you right after.

But then you went and met someone.

He froze when you told him, his smile a rictus, hand clenched so tight around his wine glass that he was lucky it didn't shatter.

He gritted his teeth and managed to choke out a congratulations. You beamed at him, flushed pretty with young love. You squeezed his hand and said it was only a matter of time before he found his love too.

He had to excuse himself after that. Had to splash cold water on his face and fight down the urge to scream. God, why was he so fucking stupid? He should have made a move on you ages ago, back when you first met. If you rejected him then, at least it wouldn't hurt as bad as it did now.

He somehow managed to make his way back to the table and smile at you like you hadn't just clawed his insides to shreds.

"So when can I meet the lucky guy?"

When you got up to wash your hands he slipped your phone out of your bag. He scrolled through your gallery, over analysing every pic of your new boyfriend. Cute, but you could do so much better. And he wasn't even that much taller than you. God, are you really gonna date this loser?

You kissed him on his cheek when he left and he spent the entire walk home rubbing the spot and thinking up ways to get rid of this new... disruption.

Later that afternoon you called him up and asked if he'd like to come to a bar with you and meet your new man. And just like that, the wild ideas in his head clicked into place.

"Sure wifey, I'd love to come."

He showed up late and spilled a drink down your dress before you even finished saying hello. And while you rushed off to try and get red wine out of satin, he scanned the bar for your new boyfriend.

And when he finally found the bastard, he turned on all his pretty boy charm. Bought him a drink and slung an arm across the back of his chair and pretended not to hear when he said he had a girlfriend. Managed to get the guy flushed and stuttering even after he claimed to not be into men.

When he pulled your boyfriend into a kiss, the fucker had the nerve to actually kiss him back.

He was careful with his timing - going in for a second kiss as soon as he saw the flash of your dress through the crowd.

He pulled away just as you reached the table and looked up at you with oblivious innocence.

"What's wrong baby? Why do you look so shocked?"

Your boyfriend shoved him off and stood up to grab you, to claim he didn't kiss someone else, the guy just came onto him swear to God. But the damage was already done.

Who would you believe was at fault? Your best friend who didn't even know what your new boyfriend looked like? Or the asshole kissing someone else while you were gone?

You threw your drink in your boyfriend's face and called him a filthy liar. When you grabbed your best friend's arm and dragged him away, he struggled to hide his smile.

He took you back to his apartment and popped open a bottle. Poured you a drink and kissed your forehead and let his hand settle on your lower back.

"Men ain't shit baby. We're all just manipulative assholes deep down."

He let you drown your sorrows in the bottle and then pulled you onto his lap when you were too drunk to object.

"I'm the only man you need in your life, yeah?"

You sniffled, too drunk and hurt and dizzy to notice his hands moving to your bare thighs.

"Yeah."

"C'mon, say it. Say I'm the only man you need."

"You're the only man I need."

His fingers slipped under the hem of your dress and he pressed his lips against your skin, teeth oh so close to your jugular.

"And I'll take care of you. So just sit still and I'll make it all better."

[sweetsugarcakes]

✰BlackClover Masterlist✰

εїз Asta

εїз Yuno

εїз Noelle

εїз Mimosa

εїз Yami

εїз Luck

εїз Magna

εїз Vanessa

εїз others

recommend if you want me to write a character that’s not on the list :)

*can also do smut*

[docrobinavitch]

chasing ghosts

dr. abbot x f!resident!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, lots of angst, age gap, swearing, alcohol, mentions of child death/multiple casualties at the beginning during a shift words: 8.1K synopsis: you and jack share a kiss during your second year of residency and you spend the next two years trying to outrun those feelings. until the pitt's annual summer party. jack abbot is down absolutely fucking horrendously. like i meaaaaan unprecedented levels of yearning. a/n: hi, i think i blacked out while writing this. eyeeeee had so so much fun. i hope i did jack justice. let me know what you think!!!!

The annual summer party for the Pitt is an all day affair in order to make sure everyone, regardless of who’s working what shift that day, has a chance to stop in.

You wouldn’t think it, but the ER knew how to throw a good party. In the morning, it started with brunch at a place downtown with bottomless mimosas, top tier pancakes, and a drag performance. After brunch, they’d go hang out at the park by the river for a few hours before reconvening for dinner and bar hopping downtown.

Jack Abbot was off today, but still skipped all the morning and afternoon activities in favor of the evening. His sleep schedule was built that way now and even on his off days, it was rare for him to be out during the day. Besides, he was hoping he’d run into you there after your own shift.

You never came to these types of events, but that didn’t stop him from hoping every time. His eyes were always searching, hoping they’d stumble upon yours.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to you much in the last two years, since you switched to the day shift. When shift change occurred, you largely avoided him. He asked Robby about you and Robby always said the same thing, “She’s a great doctor, but she keeps to herself.”

It hadn’t been like that when you were on the night shift. You were shy, sure, but it hadn’t taken Jack very long to pry you out of your shell. 

He wondered sometimes if you regretted it, now. Letting him in.

Now, he was making the rounds at the first bar of the night, not so subtly looking for you.

“You’re pathetic,” Robby teased as he sipped his beer.

“Huh?” Jack said, finally bringing his eyes back to the man in front of him. 

Robby smirked knowingly, “She is here, you know.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” He said, “But her boyfriend is supposed to be meeting her here.”

His heart stuttered in his chest, “Boyfriend?”

Robby nodded, “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone until today. I overheard her mention it to Heather.”

Fuck. Not only were you seeing someone, you were bringing him here, to meet everyone in the Pitt. You must’ve been serious about him, then.

“Do you know where she is?”

Robby tilted his head as he looked at Jack, “You sure you wanna go down that road?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He said, and it was true. Mostly. 

The two of you hadn’t had a real conversation since the week before you had requested the shift change. That night on the roof. He felt it was long overdue for the two of you to sit down and talk about it like adults. Maybe Robby was right, maybe it was much too late for that. 

But Jack couldn’t accept that.

Robby sighed heavily, “I saw her go upstairs to the rooftop bar with Heather and Samira twenty minutes ago.”

“Thanks, brother.” Jack clapped him on the back as he headed up the stairs.

***

You liked the quiet of the night time. Being awake and working when everyone else was asleep brought with it a sort of peaceful solitude you couldn’t quite explain.

But Jack hadn’t needed you to explain, he had understood it intrinsically.

The night shift, of course, could become hectic and even nightmarish at times. But if you stepped outside for some air, either on the roof or the ambulance bay, the quiet of the night cocooned you in safety.

And that’s where you were that night two years ago, on the roof and leaning over the railing, trying to catch your breath.

There had been a six car pile up almost immediately rushed in after the day shift had trickled out. Ten patients. Four of them were in critical condition when they arrived, in that terrible purgatory between life and death. For five hours, you, Abbot, Shen, and Ellis had bounced between them. Still, you lost all four of them.

You had kept it together for the half hour after you had called the last patient, despite the fact that you had felt Jack’s eyes on you the whole time.

But he seemed able to keep it together, to not fall apart, so you would too. The knee jerk response to impress him, to make him proud of you had never quite dulled in your two years of residency. It felt a bit fucking pathetic, actually.

Worse, still, that he seemed to notice how badly you craved his validation and so gave it freely. 

“Hey,” He stepped close to you, his warm breath caressing your cheek, “Go take a break, I’ll come find you in fifteen.”

“I don’t need a break.” You said quickly.

“You do,” He said, undeterred, “You’ve been staring dead eyed at the board for the last two minutes. Shen tried to call you over for a code stroke thirty seconds ago and you didn’t blink.”

You turned to him finally, panic on your face, “Fuck, seriously?” 

You started to walk to go find Shen and the stroke patient, but Jack grabbed your arm, “Nope, uh-uh. Break first. Now.”

It was rare that Jack wasn’t joking with you, trying to make you smile. Now he looked deadly serious. Like he would physically remove you from the floor himself if you refused. You must’ve looked like shit.

“Okay.” You said finally, “Fine.”

He released your arm, but his eyes trained on your every step as you walked away, “I catch you on a patient in the next fifteen minutes and I’m sending you home.” He called after you.

You raised your hand over your head in a thumbs up to signal that you’d heard and kept walking.

And that was how you ended up on the roof. Bathed in the moonlight with the quiet midnight streets of Pittsburgh below, silent tears streamed down your cheeks as you greedily sucked the night air into your lungs.

You weren’t aware of time passing and your mind had gone blissfully blank until you heard him come up behind you.

“How come you, Ellis, or Shen didn’t need a break?” You asked, your voice wavering, “Is there something wrong with me?”

He leaned over the railing at your side and turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his eyes, knowing they’d be soft and warm and inviting. You did not need to see him looking at you like that right now. Just like you had been trying not to notice the way he watched you more than the others, touched you more than was necessary, handed out praise to you more generously.

“Not even a little bit.” He said softly, voice rough, “You were perfect down there. Nothing else you could have done.“

You breathed out a shaky breath, “Then why does it feel so bad?”

“Because you’re human,” He said softly, “And because you were the only one of us to call time of death on a seven year old tonight.”

You swallowed, tilting your head up towards the sky so you could see the moon. A moon that seven year old kid would never see again. “Does it ever hurt less?”

“Fuck, no.” He sighed, “But it makes you a better doctor, I think. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself to try to make it all mean something.”

Finally, you looked at him, and the sight of your red rimmed eyes wrecked him, “It does make you a better doctor,” You hiccuped and gave him a small smile, “The best, probably.”

He shook his head, smirking, and looked down at his hands, “Careful, kid. You keep talking like that, I might think you actually like me.”

Feeling brave, you nudged your shoulder against his, “I mean it. I feel really grateful that you’re my attending. I wouldn’t want to learn under anyone else.”

He pushed his shoulder back against yours and your hands brushed where they each grasped the railing, “I came up here to make you feel better and somehow you’re the one comforting me. How did you get so good at deflecting?”

You laughed through your tears and he relished the sound, “I learned from the best,” You said pointedly as you looked over at him.

“See,” He pointed at you, teasing, “That’s what I’m talking about. Much better. You’re way less unsettling when you’re mean.”

You smiled and he found himself staring at your mouth, enraptured by it, really. The truth was, he had noticed the ways in which he was better when he was around you. Both as a doctor and a teacher. You made him want to be better. He knew he had been giving you more attention than the others, bordering on an inappropriate amount. And he knew, before he came up to the roof, that he’d have a hard time being alone with you and not imagining what you taste like or what your soft skin would feel like under his calloused hands.

He thought you felt the same, but you could be hard to read sometimes. Sometimes, he swore you leaned into his touch, other times you jumped away from it as if he had burned you. Sometimes you went whole days seemingly trying to avoid him, others you followed him around like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head and for him to tell you what a good girl you are.

But now, fuck, now you were gazing at his mouth, too. And he tried, really fucking tried, to rein in the desire. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he would think about it every day for days and weeks and months and years how badly he wished he could take it back. Not because he didn’t mean it or didn’t want it, but because it had started this downward spiral of silence and distance until you were so far away he hadn’t really seen you up close in two years. If he could go back, he would’ve told himself it wasn’t worth it. Because having only this much of you day in and day out while he yearned for more was better than having nothing at all, than you slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. 

But he didn’t know then what he knew now. 

Cautiously, he moved his face towards yours, waiting for you to pull back. But inch by inch he moved, and you stayed put. And when he was close enough to share breath with you, he met your eyes and was greeted with pupils that had completely devoured your irises. No color in sight, just an endless abyss of desire and want. Your breath faltered when his lips just barely brushed yours, and he stilled for a moment before his self restraint crumbled.

The kiss was hesitant and gentle, at first. Jack kept his hands to himself, slowly kissed you in a way that repeatedly seemed to ask Is this okay? Is this alright? Are you okay? Are you sure?

It was you who deepened the kiss first, tongue darting out to swipe gently at his lower lip.

And the cord between you, that was already so tenuous and frayed, snapped.

His hands shook as he touched you, moving from your waist, to your neck, to your face. It was like his body knew first what his brain didn’t, that he was taking too much and not enough, that hours and days and months and years of touching you would never satiate him anyway and he should just fucking quit while he was ahead. His traitorous mouth that moaned into yours was a bottomless, greedy pit and it could never have you, not really, not even as it sucked desperately at your neck in a useless attempt to mark you as his.

The marks would fade and you would fade from him along with them. 

He thinks now he probably knew as soon as you pulled away, at the panic in your eyes, that he had lost you before he had even really had the chance to have you. 

But he would deny it to himself, even as you ran off the roof ignoring the way your name came out strangled from his throat. 

He would deny it when you didn’t look at him the rest of the night, when you pretended not to hear when he tried to talk to you after the shift change that morning.

He would deny it when you handed him your shift change request form after a week of avoiding him, asking for his signature as you looked anywhere but at him.

He would deny it when his broken voice asked “Is this really what you want?” and you only silently nodded.

Jack Abbot knew he had lost you, he wasn’t delusional, but he could convince himself it was only temporary. He was patient. So fucking patient. He’d find you again, when you were ready.

***

Jack could admit that you having a boyfriend had not been part of his plan. Not that he had a plan, more so an overwhelming sense that if he waited long enough, you’d fall back into him.

But you had still been fleeing the ER at shift change without acknowledging him. He was patient, but it aggravated him to no end, the way you seemed so unaffected. Sometimes it made him feel like maybe he had made it all up in his head and that you had never wanted him at all. But then the film would play on loop again in his head and he knew he didn’t imagine your blown out pupils or the way you deepened the kiss first or the way you moaned when his mouth plucked bruises from your neck like ripened strawberries.

You had wanted him just as badly, he was sure of that. He just couldn’t understand why you were still acting like he didn’t exist.

When he got to the rooftop and looked around, he found you first at a table in the corner, eyes glued to your phone. Another quick glance around and he saw Heather and Samira talking at the bar.

Perfect. You were alone.

When he crossed the roof and sat in the empty seat next to you and you didn’t immediately look up, he realized you had marked his presence on the rooftop as soon as he got here.

The man was like a fucking sonar to your brain. You knew when he was in the same room as you before your eyes could track him. Tonight was no different.

“You look like you could use a drink.” Jack said.

Oh, you hadn’t realized how much you had missed the pleasant roughness of his voice, how it soothed you effortlessly. It practically sent chills down your spine.

You swallowed, continuing to stare at your phone. The second you met those warm hazel eyes, it would be over for you, you knew. It was the reason you had avoided him so diligently the last two years.

“Heather and Samira are getting me one.”

He wordlessly held his own drink out to you. When you stared blankly at it for a few moments, he shook it lightly, ice rattling against the glass, “It’s just a tequila soda. It’s not poison.”

Against your better judgment, and perhaps to indulge that stupid fucking instinct in your head that demanded you not disappoint him, you took it from him. You did your best not to pay attention to the sensation that shot across your skin when your fingers brushed, but the traitorous goosebumps spread across your arms anyway.

You took a sip and handed it back to him, still looking at your phone.

“Why aren’t you with them at the bar?”

“I had to take a call.”

“From your boyfriend?” Finally, fucking finally, you looked at him. It was disdain all over your face, but fuck it, he’d take it. He smirked and held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t ask, Robby told me. Said he was meeting you here.”

Quickly, you looked back at your phone and he saw your throat bob, “He called to say he couldn’t make it, so.”

Jack watched you carefully, the way you frowned and your mouth turned down just slightly. You were upset, and not just at him. 

“I’m sorry,” He said softly, but you scoffed at his apology and shook your head. And that pissed him off, “Look, you may fuckin’ hate me, but I still care about you and I mean it. I’m sorry if he stood you up. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

You rubbed at your forehead in agitation, “I don’t hate you. I’ve never fucking hated you. That’s the problem.”

Well, that was news to him. But he decided not to comment on it. He didn’t want to piss you off anymore than he already had, which seemed to be an awful lot considering he had just got here.

“How long have you been together?” You shot him that annoyed look again, “Christ, I’m just making conversation.”

“Right,” You said sarcastically and shook your head, but you answered all the same, “Two and a half years.” You said quietly. It hadn’t quite caught up to you yet, what you were admitting when telling him that. It took a couple of moments for your brain to catch up, but by then it was too late.

But Jack’s brain was already there, making the mental calculations you had long forgotten about.

Two and a half—? No, that—That couldn’t be right. Because that would mean—

Your face and ears had reddened and you wouldn’t look at him.

Jack’s ears were ringing. He started to say your name—

“Dr. Abbot,” Heather and Samira were back, the latter handing you a drink, “Catching up with your old resident?”

He forced a smile and stood, acted like his world wasn’t fucking falling apart around him, like you hadn’t just dropped a fucking bomb on him in casual conversation.

He was impressed with his ability to hold damn near cheerful conversation with Heather and Samira until he was able to excuse himself.

And this time, it was you who called after him when he left the roof.

“Jack,” Your voice was a soft plea behind him. It was a language he used to be fluent in, but clearly, he didn’t fucking know you anymore. He was starting to think he never had, “Jack, wait—“

He rounded on you in the stairwell, you still a couple of steps above him so the two of you were eye level, “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You seemed to be caught off guard that he had actually stopped, and just blinked at him for a moment, “What difference would it have made?”

“What difference—?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “All this time I’ve been driving myself out of my goddamn mind trying to figure out what I did wrong when it turns out I was your fucking, what, side piece? Affair?”

“Affair?” You hissed incredulously, “We kissed once!”

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, “Does he know?” 

“What?”

He was quickly becoming frustrated with your inability to keep up with the urgency this situation demanded. To him, at least, the whole world had shifted around him. And you were behaving as if he was the one acting crazy.

“Your boyfriend, does he know? About us?”

“Jack,” You said breathlessly, “There is no us. There was never an us.”

Jack shook his head, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked, exasperated.

“I’ve been pining after you for two fucking years and you’ve compartmentalized so goddamn well that you’ve convinced yourself it was nothing. That it meant nothing.”

For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of the version of you he used to know. Your face faltered for just a second, but then the walls were immediately back up, “I don’t owe you anything.” You said coldly, “It’s not my fault you’ve spent the last two years chasing a ghost.”

You stared each other down for a few more moments, the rage pulsating between you, before Jack broke your stare by tossing back the rest of his drink, “You’re right,” He said finally, and turned away from you to head down the stairs, “I’m sorry I disrupted your evening. Won’t happen again.”

You sighed, “Jack—“

“It’s Dr. Abbot,” He said coldly, turning back to face you again, “If you don’t mind.”

Your face fell marginally and he almost took it back when he thought he saw your lower lip wobble, but he couldn’t be sorry. If you wanted to pretend like there was nothing between the two of you, then he would do the same.

He turned again and jogged down the rest of the stairs. He needed another drink. Or seven.

***

Your hands were shaking. You stood in the stairwell staring stupidly after Jack for longer than was acceptable. You couldn’t go back upstairs to Heather and Samira like this, they’d know something was up. And you certainly couldn’t follow after Jack.

You should just go home. It was a stupid fucking idea to come here in the first place, you knew it was. And still you had come, why?

Because some part of you wanted to see him? No matter how much you denied it? Never mind the fact you had basically only invited your boyfriend because you knew his presence would keep you accountable if you were forced to be alone with Jack?

You hadn’t wanted him here, not really. Not for reasons that made sense. If you were honest with yourself, which you hadn’t been in a long, long time, your relationship had been over for at least six months.

Seeing Jack again, hearing his voice again made that very clear to you. And a part of you hated Jack for it. You had been able to convince yourself for two years that your current relationship was as good as it would get. Your mistake with Jack on the roof was just that, a mistake. Nothing more.

You had thought after all this time Jack must’ve felt the same. He fucked up and kissed his hot, younger resident, just once. He hadn’t meant to and he would be glad it was all over. You had been doing him a favor, you thought.

But when you had allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him tonight, that hadn’t been what you’d seen. In fact, he was angry with you. He had looked at you with such hurt and betrayal as if all this time he had been in love with you.

It didn’t make any fucking sense. You sat in the stairwell and pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. None of it made any fucking sense.

You should go home.

***

Robby eyed Jack with silent suspicion when he joined him back at the bar and ordered two tequila sodas. He knocked the first one back in one go and then rested his head in his hands on the bar top.

“So it went well, I take it?” Robby asked mildly.

Jack glared at Robby and then looked back at his drink, “She has a boyfriend.”

Robby nodded, “Right. I’m glad we’re on the same page about that, now.”

Jack shook his head and felt the tequila make its way through him, “No, you see, she’s had a boyfriend. Since before she moved to the day shift. The same one.”

Robby was silent for a moment, then, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jack knocked back his second tequila soda and ordered another.

“Alright, I can see you’re upset, but all the tequila sodas in the world aren’t going to make you feel better.”

“No,” Jack agreed, “But maybe it’ll stop me from thinking about her for just a while.”

Just then, as Robby was trying to subtly get the bartender to cut off Jack, Robby’s phone buzzed with a text from Heather.

What did Abbot say to Y/N? Found her crying in the stairwell. She won’t stop.

He sighed heavily and turned back to Jack, “You made her cry?”

“What?” Jack looked at him incredulously, “No.”

“Heather says she’s sobbing in the stairwell.”

Oh, he hated the way that sent an ache through him. There was a time when he would’ve taken off running to get to you if he had heard that. Maybe even just earlier today. Not now, though.

“Believe me, her eyes were fucking bone dry when I left her.”

Robby’s phone buzzed again.

Never mind. Finally got her to say something coherent. Broke up with her boyfriend over the phone. Nothing to do with Abbot.

Christ. Nothing to do with Abbot. Right, Robby thought and rubbed a hand down his face, somehow he doubted that very much.

Robby looked back at his friend, debating if he should deliver this news to Jack or not. But Jack was very drunk now and he’d probably just tear after you like a man on a mission. Neither of you needed that right now, Robby thought. He’d tell Jack in the morning.

***

Heather and Samira sat on either side of you as you tried and failed to explain everything to them. You were very bad at this. Having work friends. Shen and Ellis had tolerated you, always including you, buying you coffee, but you knew really you were mostly third wheeling. And you hadn’t minded it. You had always tried to draw a firm line between your work and personal life, which is probably why the situation with Jack fucked you up so badly.

Heather started again, “So you and Abbot—“ 

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you switched to the day shift.”

“Yes.”

“And Jack also wanted you moved to the day shift?”

This is where things got murky for you. Tiredly, you rubbed your eyes, “I don’t know what Jack wanted because I never asked.”

“He didn’t know about your boyfriend then, either?”

You shook your head slowly, “I thought the fact that I was his resident was excuse enough. I left because I didn’t trust myself around him and I thought it’d be easier on us both.”

“And today was the first time you’d really spoken in two years?”

“Yes.”

“And this one conversation spurred you to break up with your long term boyfriend on a whim?”

You looked at Heather and smirked, “So you’re getting it now? Why I should be institutionalized?”

Heather and Samira both laughed, but Heather shook her head, “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re finally being honest with yourself about your feelings. Which is really fucking brave.”

“I say we go to the next bar and get very drunk.” Samira said, standing.

“Oh, I— No,” You shook your head, panicking, “What if he’s there?”

“Oh, I hope he is.” Heather laughed and the two of them linked arms with you.

***

Robby walked silently next to Jack as they made their way to the next bar, his hands stuffed in his pockets, “Brother, I really think maybe you should just sleep this one off.”

Jack turned to Robby, “It’s only 10 PM which is roughly 10 AM by my standards. So there will be no sleeping from me for a while. But you, by all means, can go home.”

Robby inhaled slowly through his nose. He was fucking exhausted, but he didn’t trust Jack in this state. And he had seen you go off with Heather and Samira not too long ago, headed in the same direction they were walking in right now.

So he kept walking, eyeing Jack every so often until they got to the bar.

He should have just gone home, probably.

Because once they got to the bar, all hell broke loose.

***

The room was spinning. The text had come in just moments after back to back lemon drop shots and your vision was blurred. You were unsure if it was from tears or the alcohol.

“Hey, what happened?” Samira was shouting in your ear over the din of the bar.

You passed the phone to her wordlessly as you ordered another shot. You needed to be belligerent if you were going to survive this.

Samira’s jaw dropped as she watched the video. She scrubbed back and forth a few times before she handed the phone back to you.

“This is the boyfriend who couldn’t meet you here because of ‘work’?”

You nodded.

“Well, you made the right call then, breaking up with him.”

You laughed humorlessly, and then you were sobbing, “I don’t know… why I care…” You hiccuped, “I don’t think I’ve loved him for a long time.”

Samira sighed, rubbing a hand down your back, “It sounds like you tried really hard to salvage the relationship. Probably feels like a waste of almost three years of your life now,” This renewed your sobs and Samira looked at you with alarm, “I’m not saying I think you wasted three years, I just mean, it probably felt that way— I’m gonna go find Heather, she’s much better at this sort of thing.”

Alone, you ordered a drink and wiped at your cheeks. You knew Jack was next to you before you smelt his cologne and sighed heavily.

“Don’t worry,” He said softly, “I’m just getting a drink and then I’ll go as far away from you as possible.”

You only nodded. The man you had chosen to fight for had stood you up to go to a bar across town and make out with the coworker he swore for months you had nothing to worry about while your best friend unknowingly filmed him from across the room.

The man you were beginning to suspect had been in love with you for close to four years now, you had spent the last two years running away from and now he hated you.

It felt like a big cosmic joke.

You rested your head on your arms and willed him away so you wouldn’t have to confront the long string of bad decisions you’d made that had led you here.

But Jack just couldn’t resist when you looked so miserable, “Are you alright, kid? Hate seeing you like this.”

You pushed your head up and met his eyes. Despite your earlier argument, he was looking at you with tenderness and concern. He meant it, that he cared, you could see it all over him. It made you want to burst into tears again. And maybe that’s why you decided to poke the bear, see how far you could push, what would make him really, truly loathe you? It was what you deserved after all, right?

You turned your head away from him and unlocked your phone, tapping to the video your friend had sent, hitting play and sliding it over the bar top to Jack, “You’ll be happy to know this is what my boyfriend was too busy doing to meet me tonight. Some sort of fucked up karma, I suppose.”

Jack’s face betrayed nothing as he watched the video, but you thought maybe a muscle in his jaw ticked. He slid the phone back to you, “Whatever you think of me, I’m not enjoying this.”

You scoffed and shook your head, looking down at the bar top.

“I’m serious. I would never—“ You hear him sigh in frustration, “Just because I’m hurting doesn’t mean I wish you were hurting, too. If anything, if you were happy, maybe it’d all make more sense to me.”

He tapped his finger on top of your phone case, “That guy’s a fucking idiot. You deserve way better than that.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, carefully avoiding looking at him, “Hey,” He said and crooked a finger under your chin, gently pulling until you met his gaze, “You deserve better, okay?”

You were conscious of the fact that you wanted to kiss him. And you knew he saw the way your eyes drifted dangerously to his mouth. 

“I did the same thing to him.” You said quietly, still staring at his mouth, “Only seems fair.”

Jack released your chin and shook his head, “Don’t compare what we did to… To that.”

He sounded disgusted and it made you want to laugh, “How is it any different?”

“That is just drunken lust.” He leaned towards you on his forearms, “What we did meant something. Maybe not to you, but it did to me.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Did it mean something to you?” He shot back.

His face was very close to yours now, you could smell the tequila on his breath. 

“Tell me,” He said slowly, “Tell me it didn’t mean anything to you and I swear to God, I’ll walk away and you’ll never hear from me again.”

You swallowed, blinking rapidly to clear the watering of your eyes. Of course you couldn’t tell him it meant nothing. You had thought about it nearly every day for two years. 

But you were drunk and a fucking wreck and you didn’t know anything anymore except that you still remembered exactly what Jack Abbot tasted like and that he was looking at you right now like he would get on his knees for you in this crowded bar if you asked.

“I should go.” You whispered softly, broken, and slid from your bar stool.

He let you pass, but then called after you, loudly enough that people around you quieted, “What the fuck are you so scared of?”

You turned back, knowing that your face was flushed from the attention of others, “Goodnight, Dr. Abbot.”

***

“Hey, let her go,” Robby stood in front of Jack who was now trying to exit the bar and follow after you, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m fine,” Jack insisted, and when he looked around Robby, he saw it had started to downpour outside, “She’s drunk and it’s storming out there.”

“Heather will check in with her and make sure she gets home okay.”

Jack looked from the door to Robby a few times before sighing and running a hand through his hair, “Sorry, I just… She really gets under my fucking skin.”

Robby nodded and tried to stifle a yawn, “I noticed.”

Jack sighed, “Go home, Robby, seriously. I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I promise.” He shook his head, “I should probably just go home, too.”

Robby offered a sad smile and clapped him on the shoulder, “It’ll all make more sense in the morning, brother.”

Jack snorted, “Historically, that has never been true for me.”

***

It felt pretty melodramatic to be standing in the park overlooking the river as it poured. It was all very Jane Austen of you, you decided. Except Mr. Darcy would not be showing up to declare his love for you, Mr. Darcy was likely dry and headed home in his UberX.

You didn’t know where home was anymore. Luckily, you hadn’t moved in with your boyfriend yet. It was one of the many things that should have been a red flag, the fact that you hadn’t had a desire to cohabitate with him. You liked when he left in the morning and you liked the nights where he got home too late and went to his own apartment so as not to disturb your rest.

But still, there were traces of him all through your apartment. You didn’t want to be there.

You’re not sure how long you sit in the warm rain before your phone buzzed. You expected Heather or Samira, but were shocked to see Jack’s name on the banner, alerting you to a text.

Jack hadn’t texted you in something like two years.

I know I shouldn’t be texting you, it read, But I just want to be sure you got home safe. Please  text when you’re home.

After staring at your phone for a few minutes, now soaked with the rain, you attempted to dry the screen with the sleeve of your jacket. It worked only slightly, but allowed you to hold down the text and “like” it.

After about thirty seconds, the speech bubble appeared on your phone to indicate he was typing.

Well don’t just fucking like the message. Are you home?

You could lie, you supposed. Probably, you could walk into PTMC and sleep in an empty room upstairs.

But you were growing tired of all the pretending.

no. You replied finally.

His reply was immediate, Where are you? 

in the park.

It’s raining.

excellent observation, dr. abbot.

You stared at the screen as his speech bubble appeared and disappeared, over and over, for a couple minutes.

Send me your location. Then, almost as an afterthought, Please.

This was a bad idea, probably. After the events of today, you should not be sending Jack Abbot your location. You should not be speaking to Jack Abbot at all. After today, you should probably resign from your residency and maybe join a convent.

You watched as seemingly of their own volition, your hands tapped all the right buttons to send Jack a pin.

A few moments later, he texted a screenshot of an Uber being sent to your location with the car information and license plate.

i don’t want to go home. You sent him in a rush.

Yeah, I got that, he replied, The Uber is bringing you to me.

You blew a long breath out between your lips, you sure that’s a good idea?

Nope. Uber’s pulling up now.

Sure enough, headlights lit up the raindrops behind you. You turned to see the car, quickly giving the license plate a cursory once over to make sure it matched what Jack sent. 

You could send the car off. Say it was a mistake. Not get in. Showing up at Jack’s apartment soaked to the skin in the middle of the night, still drunk and emotionally unstable felt like boarding a train you knew would derail. 

You still got in the car, though. You didn’t have anywhere else to go.

***

When Jack opened the door to his apartment, the frigid air from his AC assaulted you and you shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stepped aside to allow you in and you kicked off your water logged shoes.

You had been here only once before, the first week of your residency. Jack would host a team dinner (early, so you could all still make your shift in time) whenever a new resident was added to the night shift. 

You had been really nervous you recalled, until Jack had cracked a joke that made you choke on your soda.

It had been almost four years, but his apartment hadn’t changed much at all. It was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. The furniture was well taken care of, but everything was in varying shades of gray and blue. The only hints of personality being some pictures on his fridge, vinyls by a stereo, and some books on a shelf.

But one photo on his fridge caught your eye and before you knew what you were doing, you were walking to it.

Early in your second year of residency, you had presented your research on cardiogenic pulmonary edema outcomes in the ER at a conference in New York. Jack had shown up without telling you he was coming. He stayed near your poster all day while you presented to interested passersby, giving you a thumbs up or “solid work” when you needed it, smuggling you snacks, making sure you drank water. And at the end of it you remembered he took you out to dinner and told you how proud he was of you and what a great emergency medicine doctor you would be.

You had taken a picture with him in front of your poster and this was the photo on his fridge. You had a huge smile on your face and Jack had an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“I didn’t know you had this.” You said softly.

He didn’t say anything so you turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the photo, “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” He said finally, walking by you to his bedroom.

You watched in his doorway as he pulled a pair of clean sweatpants and a t shirt from his closet and placed them at the edge of his bed, “The shower’s in that room,” He pointed to a door off the bedroom, “There’s clean towels under the sink, use whatever soap you like.”

He started to walk past you, but you grabbed his arm, and he stopped, eyes snagging on the hand that was touching him, “Thank you.” You said softly.

His eyes slowly roved upwards until they met yours. He searched your face, though you weren’t sure what he was looking for, then pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room.

***

After you were showered and changed, you wandered out to the living room where Jack sat on the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. He had taken his prosthetic off and it was propped up next to the coffee table.

When he heard you pad into the room, he cracked his eyes open, “Feeling better?” You nodded. “Good. Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

But you still stood there, staring at him, arms wrapped around yourself, “Do you love me?” You asked, voice small.

He stared at you for a moment and sat up, running a hand over his face, “Have I not made it painfully obvious?”

“For how long?”

He shook his head and smiled at you incredulously, “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?”

“You’ve been in control of this,” He gestured between the two of you, “From the second I fucking met you and now you’re trying to what, decode the situation? See what outcome is most advantageous? I mean, Jesus Christ, what do you want?”

“What do I want?”

“Yes,” He said, “Not what seems correct, not what seems rational, what is it that you want?”

“I—“ You shook your head, “I don’t– I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” He said firmly, “Do you want your cheating boyfriend?”

You frowned, “No.”

“Did you ever want him?”

You huffed in frustration, “What do you mean?”

“I mean when you chose him over me, was that what you wanted?”

“That’s not a fair characterization of what happened—“

“Was it what you wanted?”

You faltered, “It was what was safest.” You said softly.

He smiled at you sadly, “He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t love him, right?”

You stared up at the ceiling, willing the tears back into your eyes, “I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”

“You never gave me the chance to tell you.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, “I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”

You looked at him, eyes watering, and you swallowed hard before you moved to him. He watched you as you placed a knee on either side of his legs, straddling his lap. His eyes followed your every movement reverently, your face just above his as you rested your forehead against his. His hands knotted themselves in your hair, “I’m scared,” You breathed shakily into his mouth.

“Of what?” He asked, his mouth near centimeters from yours.

“Of you. Of wanting you too much. Of losing you. Of everything.”

“I can’t promise you that this will work,” He said softly, “But I can promise I’ll fight like hell to make it work.”

You swallowed, “Because you love me?”

Finally, he laughed, “Yes, I fucking love you. Now be quiet.” He said before he kissed you.

He tasted exactly like you remembered, except tonight, there were remnants of tequila on his tongue. It was like he was trying to make up for lost time, the way he kissed you on that couch. He pushed his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, like he was searching for something he’d lost. Already, you were out of breath, hips grinding down on him without realizing. He sucked your lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently, groaning when you rubbed yourself on his growing erection.

“Slow down,” He chastised.

“You started it.” You reminded him.

“Fuck,” He moaned and then pushed you off him so he could crawl over you, “You’re sure?” He asked as you looked up at him, hair fanning around your head on the couch cushion like a halo.

You nodded, “I want you.”

He smirked and lowered his head to yours again, pulling kisses from you as one hand worked its way under your t-shirt. Your skin was smooth and soft there and he inched up slowly, until his fingers just brushed the underside of your breast. Touching you like this, he thought a lot about that night on the roof, the way he had kissed you like he knew he was already out of time.

Now… Now the world seemed to open up. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t going anywhere, not this time. You were his and he wouldn’t let you go so easily again.

Gently, he tugged the t-shirt over your head so he could look at you and he was unable to suppress the sigh that tumbled from his lips. He squeezed your breast with one hand, thumbed your nipple and watched it pebble as you sighed. Still watching you, he pinched your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and your eyes rolled back into your head as you writhed beneath him.

He kissed you, fingers still teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers, and then he began to kiss down your jaw and neck until he was able to suck your nipple into his mouth. The moan that fell from your lips when he swirled his tongue around you went straight to his cock. 

He was overly conscious of the fact that because he had imagined this very moment for two years minimum, likely longer, because he had imagined it hundreds of times while getting himself off, it was likely he would last all of thirty seconds once he was inside you, once he felt the real thing. So he would make this last for you.

Jack shimmied the sweatpants off of you and forgot that because you were here and you had just showered, you weren’t wearing panties. And suddenly, he felt feral. 

“Jesus Christ,” He shook his head looking at you, it felt like maybe he was dreaming a little, having you naked beneath him. He felt almost delirious with it.

You looked up at him, those pupils once again whole saucers, “Touch me, please?” You whined.

He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he reached a hand down between your thighs. You gasped as he fully sunk a finger into you. When he moved his mouth back down to suck on your other nipple, your back arched and it sent him into another dimension, being able to make you feel like this.

With two of his fingers pumping you slowly and a thumb on your clit, he felt the moment when you climaxed before you cried out, “That’s it, sweetheart,” He said softly, “Look so pretty when you come for me like that.”

As you caught your breath, you watched as he pulled his fingers out of you and then sucked your juices from his digits. “Taste so good, too.”

Your eyes stayed locked on one another as he reached for a wooden bowl on the coffee table. He took the top off, pulled out an aluminum packet, and closed it again. And suddenly you were giggling, “What?” He asked, ripping the package open.

“D’you fuck mad bitches on this couch or something, Jack?”

He rolled his eyes, but smirked, “Shut up.”

When he slid into you, forehead pressed to yours, you gasped at the sensation. You had thought about this countless times before, Jack Abbot above you, like this. What you had never really thought about was that maybe while he did it, he’d be looking at you like he was in love with you. And it nearly shattered you.

“I love you,” You murmured into his mouth as you felt him beginning to come undone, “I love you so much.”

He moaned your name as he finished and collapsed against you, damp and breathless, “You love me, huh?” He said after a moment.

You lightly scratched the back of his head, “I’ve loved you for years,” You said softly, “Just spent a lot of that time denying it.”

He pulled his head back and kissed you messily, your chin grasped firmly in his hand. 

“Better late than never.”

[kitkatscabinet]

VIRAL VIBES

requested by anon:

summary: you're constantly in the spotlight, is it really a surprise you're a viral sensation?

pairings: platonic batfamily x batsis! reader. mentions of roy, wally, conner, kyle x batsis

a/n: crackish

[You and Duke are seated at a table, a bottle of water in front of you, Bruce stands behind, holding a piece of paper]

"Slay?… Slay what?" He stares deadpan, already concerned for the mental state of his giggling kids.

"That’s it. That’s the word." Duke explains.

"Slay is not a complete thought."

"No," you agree, nodding sagely, "it’s a lifestyle."

You're mid-sip when Bruce decides to drop the following words, "Mama... a girl is behind you." Duke spits his water all over your face, rendering you temporarily blind while you accidentally inhale water up your nose.

"Is this some kind of warning? Is it a threat?" It hurts to breathe, it hurts to exist. You make an odd gargling noise that sends Duke into another spiral.

Bruce never gets an answer to his question, painstakingly watching his hysterically giggling children.

"Skib-" you see Bruce mouth the word incredulously as if questioning what his eyes are seeing, "skibidi... toilet rizz? I feel like I'm being punked, I only recognise one of those words." Neither you nor Duke can answer him, too busy choking on laughter and water.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your palm thumping against the table, and Bruce becomes legitimately concerned you're about to choke to death.

"Be fr."

"What does the fr stand for. Is it supposed to be ‘be… free?’"

"No." You gasp, trying to maintain your composure. "No, it means ‘Be for real.’ Like when someone says something unhinged and you’re begging them to actually tell the truth."

"You know. Like when Jason said he’d start a podcast." Duke snickers as you hold up a hand for a high five.

"Be fr." Bruce nods, his monotone delivery sending you over the edge as you laugh so hard you slip off the chair, accidentally knocking the phone over.

[Steph's voice comes from behind the camera focused on you and Dick slumped on the couch, it's clear she's holding back a giggle]

"He’s a 10, but he once fell off the treadmill in public because he was distracted by his own reflection."

The words register in Dick's head, his mouth falling open in offence. He throws his phone down on the couch, suddenly paying attention to Steph's shenanigans.

"Oh yeah, solid 4, sounds like an idiot." You chime in, not looking up from your phone.

"The mirror snuck up on me!" He huffs, pouting at Steph as he prepares his comeback.

"She’s a 10, but she once pretended not to know me at a farmer’s market because I said ‘slay’ unironically."

"You said it to a zucchini, Dick!"

"Weak." You snort. "Minus 3 points for flirting with the shittest vegetable."

Steph spins the camera enough to show her thumbs up.

"Fine. She’s a 10, but she has a ‘funeral playlist’ and refers to it as her final slay."

"I don't think you understand this trend Dickhead. Besides, it’s an awesome fucking playlist. ACDC into Billie Eilish? The drama, the emotional whiplash. That’s the arc."

"10/10. No notes." Steph chirps.

Dick scowls. "She’s a 10, but trauma dumps during the brunch and ruins the vibe."

"Who hasn't?" Steph scoffed, determined to back you up.

"Excuse you, the trauma dump is the vibe. That mimosa knew what it signed up for." You barely skip a beat before firing back at your brother.

"He's a 10, but he's fumbled every baddie he somehow managed to bag in the first place." Steph shrieks with laughter as Dick looks close to tears.

"I mean, how you gonna fumble four separate redheads, couldn't be me." You deadpan.

The camera shakes with the force of Steph's laughter, the video cutting off right after you hear Dick's whine in the background. "Why are you being so mean to me? Wait 4?"

[You're behind the camera, which is focused on a tired-looking Tim walking on the pavement.]

"Hey, have you ever met my friend George?"

"George?" Tim mumbles, turning to look at you, "Wait, why are you filming-" His suspicion is warranted, but comes far too late for him to react as your hand enters the frame, shoving him into the hedge.

"George Bush!"

[She's such a good big sister🥹 ]

Video 1: Damian's dressed in a suit, standing beside a piece of artwork and looking small against all the other patrons. You suddenly sneak up behind him, catching him in a hug as you proudly brag to the nearby art show guests about your little brother's art.

Video 2: You and Duke are seated in a Batburger in your pyjamas at 2am. You look exhausted, blinking repeatedly and threatening to fall asleep in your fries, but you still let Duke ramble at you as you pay for his food and give him your milkshake.

Video 3: You're holding Tim's hand as you cross the road, tugging him along gently and him trusting you enough to barely watch where he's walking.

Video 4: You giving Cass a bouquet of flowers after her dance performance. You're eyes are a little red and puffy as you animatedly tell her how beautiful she is.

Video 5: Jason looking uncomfortable at a gala event as an older woman talks at him, only for you to suddenly sweep in dramatically, tugging him away without so much as a by your leave.

[A video posted on Bart's TikTok of you and Wally captioned: bro stand up!!]

The video:

You're scowling at an enamoured-looking Wally, gesticulating wildly as you clearly scold him about something. From the look on his face, it's clear Wally's not absorbing a single thing, staring at you like he's mentally planning your wedding.

The comments:

@dickgraysonsgrayson: Wally West falling for her is SO funny because he talks a mile a minute and she just stares at him like he’s background noise. AND HE LOVES IT.

@tiddiesinsincity: She calls him ‘annoying’ with the most affectionate tone ever. They're in love ur honour!!!

@westnwayne4eva: That man is down so horrendously bad I'm nearly embarrassed for him.

@lexluthorscheapasswig: They give off golden retriever x black cat ENERGY in all caps.

@nightwingschikenwing: He’d absolutely be the type to send ‘thinking about u’ memes every hour, and she responds once a day with ‘ok.’ AND HE SAVES IT.

@:iranoutofusernameideas: She says ‘Wally, no’ at least five times a day. He hears it like it’s ‘I love you.’

[You're doing an interview at a gala, Roy appears from behind, resting a hand on your waist as you jump]

The video:

"Hey trouble." Roy grins wickedly, ignoring the sudden flashes of cameras.

"Roy! I almost punched you." You whine, but still relax in his hold, smiling back. "What are you even doing here? You hate these things."

"What can I say? Maybe I wanted to see you."

The comments:

@whydidothistomyself: “That one clip where Roy pulls her away from the paparazzi with that stupid smug grin?? Yeah, I rewatch it daily and this is going in the folder right next to it.

@ireallyneedanewhobby: rolling her eyes while Roy winks at her like the menace he is…that’s love.

@booktokmorelikewaynetok: He calls her trouble?? JUST KISS ALREADY.

@royharpersgianttiddies: Their dynamic is: she threatens to throw him off a rooftop and he calls it flirting.

@olimcqueen: Them side-eyeing each other at events? Her smirking after he leaves a snarky comment? chef's kiss

@just-iceleagueee: The way Roy softens around her though. Like he’s all charm and sass but when she’s upset? He listens. I’m ruined.

[another video posted on Bart's account captioned: getting sick of this shit fr]

The video:

You're running away from a soaking wet Tim, ducking behind Conner, who grins, letting you use him as a human shield. Freezing when you wrap your arms around him from behind and poke your head out to mock Tim. Only to squeal in laughter when Conner hauls you into his arms, taking off in a run away from a still yelling Tim.

The comments:

@lexluthersucks: no because he LOOKS at her like she’s the only person who matters

@actualwayneteagirl: petition for her to date literally any of her brother’s friends

@batgirlburnbook: he goes feral if she’s mildly inconvenienced. like sir?? get a grip (never change).

@superboyslutclub: she could be wearing literally anything and conner looks like he’s ready to propose on the spot.

@no.1ship: ok but him manhandling her like she weighs nothing?? how do i get me one of those??

@idontevenlikeDCfr: her being completely unfazed by him while he’s just… standing there, breathing heavy. i get it.

[The comments from a video of you laughing at something said off-screen, presumably from the man who's arm was in frame]

@batkinnie: she smiled and i KNOW it was at wally. #WayneWest supremacy!!

@connrified: nah bc conner was RIGHT THERE. you can see his reflection. they are ENDGAME.

@royharperzgun: that laugh was for ROY and ROY ONLY.

@kryptonianluvr02: imagine thinking she’d choose roy when conner breathes like that near her.

@bruciewayne420: if you think anyone makes her laugh like wally does, you’re delulu. LMAO.

@lovewinsssss: she likes redheads with issues so YES roy is winning.

@aquamanswife: y’all are colorblind bc that’s clearly wally in her peripheral vision.

[A slightly shaky video of you sitting across from an unknown man in a cozy little cafe]

The comments:

@connerscurlz: WHO. IS. THAT. MAN. AND WHY IS HE BREATHING HER AIR.

@arsenalxwife: blink twice if you’re being held against your will queen

@jsontoddslefttit: not to be dramatic but this just ruined my entire week.

@glowylanternz: he looks like he reads poetry and draws her while she sleeps. i’m scared.

@wayneupdates: sources say his name is Kyle something?? art guy? lover boy coded?? HELP.

@arsenalsarmtattoo: we lost her to a man with ring jewelry. how do we recover from this.

@batdaddddy: conner nation is in mourning.

@wallywestsupremacy: she giggled. SHE GIGGLED. we’ve lost her for real this time.

@batgirlfandom: let her have her sexy sad artist boyfriend in peace.

@timstarlightsss: this is worse than the time Dick started dating that yoga instructor

[aurorawritestoescape]

BORROWED TIME

Joel Miller x f!reader || 4k

Summary: Joel and you are enjoying an ideal vacation together. Warm ocean, white sand, soft kisses, and hot sex make it feel like paradise. But as your time here is running out, the thoughts that you‘ve been trying to keep at bay start eating at your soul.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, fluff, age is not specified, soft dom vibes, infidelity, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampies, belly bulge, soft!Joel, EMOTIONS, rough-ish sex, consensual somno, heavily inspired by Pedro’s vacay pics and videos. Pics are only for the mood. Joel can lift reader. Reader wears a dress, a bikini.

A/n: yay my first fic of 2025! I didn’t expect it to be this one but like all of us I was deeply affected by the recent Pedro content and needed to cope somehow so I wrote this. I really hope y’all will like it! Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💋 ILY, baby🫂 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

The first day in heaven. A soft breeze caresses your skin as soon as you step out of the cab, just from the airport, but Joel’s hands always do it better.

You’ve been looking forward to this trip, afraid to even talk about it, scared to jinx it, make it vanish like a mirage. You’ve been dreaming of having Joel all to yourself for too long.

Joel hugs you in the hotel lobby while they’re checking you in, and you tilt your head up to face him. You’ve never smiled so widely before. Your heart is fluttering in your chest, and his scent, your favorite in the whole world, makes you tremble and gush.

You taste sugar on your lips from a welcome Mimosa, and as soon as you two are in your room, he licks it off; the kiss is full of passion, his hands eager, desperate to tear your summer dress off. It’s on the floor in a second, just like your panties. He kneels in front of you and kisses your naked thigh. A growl against your skin makes you shiver before he looks you up and down, taking in the sight of your naked body, and then tuts with overexaggerated disapproval,

”Asked you not to wear anything underneath, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t be butt-naked on the plane, Joel,” you giggle, tracing a line from the crease between his brows, down the slope of his nose, and to his chin. You love his profile so much that seeing it is not enough, so you made a habit of touching it too.

“I promise you’ll never see any underwear on me from now on.”

“Good girl,” he praises you with a wide smile, and then suddenly latches onto your wet pussy. You gasp and grab his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Joel helps you not to fall, his strong hands on your thighs spread your legs apart, and you happily grant him access to the most sacred part of your body.

He pushes his tongue between your folds, traces your soft entrance with its tip, and your legs are already trembling. He starts playing with you, mischief swimming in his dark eyes, slowly laps at your folds, gently sucks on your clit but doesn’t give you enough stimulation to come.

You whine when his mouth parts from your puffy bud, desperate for a release.

“You’ll come, my angel. But only on my cock,” Joel promises, getting up, takes you in his arms, and carries you to the shower.

You're caged between the shower wall and Joel. He's naked and wet, radiating sex and desire. Soapy water is running over the curves of your body while he's washing you, taking his time. His big lathered palms are gliding over your breasts, belly, mound, ass. Your hands are pressed to the expense of his chest as he's slowly edging you, always happy to play with you like a cat with a mouse. He's waiting for you to break under his touch, to beg for more. Yet his heart is beating so fast and hard under your palms that it leaves you no doubt that he's desperate for you just as much as you're for him. He can't get enough of you and your heart sings, seeing every sign of it— his blown out eyes, his heavy breathing, his hard cock.

You're revelling in the caress of Joel's hands but your body takes over soon enough. Your wet palm slithers down his torso and wraps around his stiff length. You pump the shaft a few times and then guide his tip between your folds.

"Fuck me, Joel." Your plea is almost swallowed by the sound of the rainfall shower but he hears you.

"Begging me already? So needy." His eyes are obsidian, he can't fool you.

"Aren't you?" you purr, sliding his fat tip up and down over your hardened clit, massaging it, making yourself moan and tremble. The sensation makes Joel grunt and break. Through his teeth he commands, "Turn around."

“Yes, sir,” you breathe out, smile wide, eyes sparkling, and in a second the cold tile kisses your cheek, then your pebbled nipples, and his fat head slowly slides into your pussy, followed by his girthy shaft.

“Hngggg— oh, baby—been thinking of fucking you since this morning. Your damn dress. Took me a lot not to ruin you right on the plane.”

You whimper at his words and then your eyes roll back when he starts thrusting his thickness in and out of your tight cunt. It takes you a few deep breaths to get used to the stretch but you always take him well and soon wet slapping noises reverberate off the walls, together with your moans and his grunts fusing into a melody of lust and passion. You love when he’s as desperate for you as you’re for him. It gives you hope.

Crispy sheets, so white your eyes hurt, envelop your poorly-dried bodies like a cloud.

“C’mere,” he croaks, pulling you closer, and you rest your head on his chest as he covers you two with a blanket. His warm cum is leaking out of your stretched pussy and you tingle all over again but the flight has drained you both and in a couple of minutes you two fall asleep.

You wake up before Joel and slip out from under his arm to look at the view. You walk out on the balcony and the beauty of the ocean under the bright sun overwhelms you, making you squeal with excitement. Not being able to wait any longer to feel the caress of the waves, you hurry back to the room and wake Joel up with a soft kiss.

“Wake up, sleepy. Let’s go swimming before the sun sets.”

Joel’s golden skin is sparkling with a myriad of water diamonds as he’s standing waist-deep in the bluest ocean in front of you, rendering you completely mesmerized. He chuckles, noticing the way you’re almost drooling, and pulls you closer into his embrace. With his body pressed to yours, your pussy starts aching, and a twitch in his swim trunks tells you that he’s also affected by the sight and the feel of you.

“Damn, baby, driving me crazy…your tiny bikini…”

“Do you like it?” you ask, brushing his neck with your lips, tasting salt on his skin.

“Hate the way they all stare at you. You’re mine. But the way you look. Yeah, I like it,” he growls and bucks his hips against you under the water. You giggle and then sigh into the crease of his neck.

“I’m yours,” you whisper. ‘Are you mine?’ you think. You push the thoughts back into a box in your mind you promised yourself not to open here. ’You’re in heaven. Don’t ruin it,’ you remind yourself.

The next morning you wake up and see Joel right next to you, limbs tangled in the sheets, plush lips asking for a kiss. A rush of happiness makes you tear up and you squirm with impatience to start the day when Joel opens his eyes. He’s gorgeous in the morning — hair disheveled, voice hoarse. He looks a little grumpy but you kiss the crease between his brows away and his face softens.

“Morning, my angel.”

You wish you could hear it till the rest of your life. Or at least next week. He pulls you into his sleepy body, the hug is tight, the kiss is impatient, and soon the murmur of the ocean accompanies your whispers as you’re riding him, your thighs, sticky with sweat cling to his hips, his hand is kneading your breast, the other’s focused on making you come, thick fingers swirling around your clit. He expertly brings you to a hard orgasm and follows quickly after—the back of his head dips into the fluffy pillow as he bursts into you and you milk him to the last drop, happy to walk around with his cum between your legs all day.

Joel’s lying on a lounger now, his expression concentrated, reading a book in the shade, while you’re standing a few steps away, drying yourself with a towel, just out of the ocean. You can’t help but stare at his handsome face, the broadness of his shoulders, his big arms. God, he’s gorgeous. Feeling your heart eyes on him, Joel glances at you from the side and his lips curve into a playful smirk. It sends a bolt of lightning through your body, electrifies every nerve, makes your core burn with desire.

No need for words. His expression tells you everything - ‘C’mere. Now.’

Still dripping water, you walk to him and straddle his muscular thighs, barely covered by his red shorts. His legs are hot against your cold skin but you melt into your bikini bottoms because of his eyes— obsidian, piercing, magnetic, they pull you close and you lie down on his chest. His book, forgotten in a second, falls on the sand with a thud. You kiss his soft lips and whisper against them, “Take me to our room.”

Delicious dinners at sunset, the warm ocean, the white sand, clinging to your heated body, but most importantly him next to you make the time here fly. Blissful minutes turn into hours, hours flow into days. Full of laughter, long conversations, endless kissing and hot sex. But your ideal life, your paradise starts glitching and breaking into pixels when one morning he offers, “Wanna go get some souvenirs?”

Just one question, as trivial as it can be on a holiday, breaks the wall you’ve built in your mind between your perfect existence here and your reality there. Between your present and your future. Near future. You’re going back soon. To that life.

Suffocating panic tightly grabs your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to drive away the thoughts, to glue the wall back together but he muses what he should get for Sarah and your wall turns into glass and shatters into a million pieces.

You mumble something incoherent trying to fight the upcoming tears and rush to the bathroom.

By the time you’re standing in front of the mirror tears are flowing down your cheeks and you hastily wipe them away, hating to upset him, but your heart and your head, joined in a cruel tandem, remind you that everything is going to go back to normal very soon. Normal for him is a misery for you. Waiting, hoping, asking him to stay longer, wishing that he finally makes a decision, finally chooses you.

The rest of the day you’re quiet, afraid to speak and to let your emotions spoil your precious time together. It gets unbearably hard to ignore the fact that you’re having him all to yourself on borrowed time. You start or rather let yourself notice his calls, his voice quiet, probably lying about his business meetings. He talks to his wife on the balcony or in the bathroom, not to keep you a secret —you know how to be quiet when she calls at this point, but rather not to rub her in your face. You’re thankful, not wanting to reopen the wound that’s been slowly healing up during these days together. Yet you know that soon it’s going to gush blood again when you say goodbye to your paradise and return to your empty bed, fleeting dates with him and soul-crushing loneliness.

You disassociate when he talks about packing and the flight back. You kiss him and want to cry, moan his name under the weight of his body but your heart aches. Every touch is a reminder that soon it’ll be over, soon he’ll be hers again.

It’s the last day of the trip and early in the morning you sneak out while Joel’s still asleep and go to the beach. It’s almost empty, only seagulls are the witnesses of your breakdown. You’re crying, swept by a wave of dreadful thoughts in your mind. Tomorrow you’re leaving and then he’s leaving you. For a day? Two? A week? Who knows.

You can’t blame him. You knew that he was married from the start. At first it felt like a fling but you got attached, you fell in love with the married man and foolishly expected him to divorce his wife, scoop you up in his big arms and carry you into the sunset like in a cheesy rom-com. But he kept telling you that, yes he didn’t love his wife anymore, but his daughter Sarah was too young and she was his world. He’d never hurt her like that, would never break up the family.

They say, you can’t change the ocean, no matter how hard you try, so it’s best to learn how to sail in all conditions. Just like the ocean Joel was unyielding in his devotion to his daughter but you failed to adapt so you were slowly drowning in despair, your love for him dragging you down like an iron ball chained to your foot.

You wipe the tears away and squeeze a handful of sand between your fingers as anger rises in your stomach. You deserve better than being someone’s dirty secret. What if you give him an ultimatum - you or his wife, and if he chooses her, you’ll find someone else. Someone who’ll love you openly, who’ll choose you. Someone better.

A thought makes your stomach sink - it’s not possible. Joel is perfect. He’s fucking perfect except for one huge flaw. He’s married.

You walk with your heart heavy back to your room and find Joel up, nervously pacing the floor. He asks where you’ve been and, not being able to conceal your feelings any longer, you burst into tears. He rushes to hug you but you slap his arms away. You shout, you cry, you beg. All the pain pushed deep down is spilling out of your heart, accompanied by the words you hate saying, insecurities you promised yourself to hide but it’s hard to stop.

It’s not like he hasn’t heard it all before. He has and that’s why now he looks tired. Not angry. Never. Just tired, sad and guilty.

Joel tries to calm you down, comfort you but all in vain. You’re waiting for him to tell you ‘I’ll be with you forever,” but instead he mumbles that he needs to take a walk and leaves you crying, face buried in his pillow. His scent woven into the fabric brings a thought to your mind which makes you cry even harder — soon you’ll go back to your flat where everything smells like him but loses the warmth of his body the second he leaves.

In the evening Joel timidly suggests going to the hotel bar. You feel embarrassed for your earlier outburst, but the fact that he didn’t make the decision you hoped for is twisting your stomach. Thinking that everything is better than staring at the suitcases in the corner of the room, you agree to go.

The bar is almost empty except for the two of you. You sit at the counter and order two shots of tequila. After emptying them fast, you both get two more and soon the hard liquor slightly numbs your emotions.

Joel’s warm hand is resting on your lower back as he’s peppering your shoulder, your neck, your cheek with open mouth kisses, but you’re cold, distant. It’s hard even to look at him.

He sighs but then suddenly exclaims, making you jerk,

“I love this song! Let’s dance!”

You smile a little, amused by the lights in his eyes. He’s cute when he’s tipsy. But you shake your head and mumble that you’re not in the mood.

Joel surprises you when he slides off his stool and starts dancing. Alone. For you. Despite everything you can’t tear your eyes off him. His dark gaze set on yours pierces your soul and makes your heart flutter in your chest. His movements are slow and alluring and the sway of his hips ignites fire in your core. You press your thighs together, quickly affected by his blatant seduction, and when he moves closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body, it gets hard for you to breathe.

Joel’s lustful eyes tell you to submit and when he places his hands on your knees, you obediently open your legs in invitation. He gets between your thighs and gently takes your face in his hands. Joel looks into your eyes and you stop breathing altogether. At this moment you realize that you’ll never leave him willingly, never be able to say goodbye to these kind brown eyes, these soft lips, these gentle hands. He’s the love of your life and you’re his completely and utterly. But he’s not yours.

You rush to your room, both swept by the urge to tear each other apart. Soon your clothes are littering the floor, your cheek pressed to the bed, ass pushed out in the air, as he’s kneeling behind you, snapping his hips against you hard and fast, pushing his throbbing cock deeper into your wet cunt, grunting, making you scream. His fat tip knocks at your cervix and it slightly hurts but you welcome it, wishing to focus on the ache from his length rather than the pain torturing your soul. His hands are leaving marks on your soft hips and you’re looking forward to seeing them on your body later as evidence that this trip was in fact real and not a wishful dream.

“Fuck— gonna come— you first, baby,” Joel growls and rubs your clit with an impatient hand, wet with your juices. You come shaking and crying on his cock and he rewards you with his load, squirting against your pulsating walls, which are squeezing him tightly and desperately. He’s carefully pulling out, and your tight cunt grabs onto him. Just like your heart, your body always craves him.

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel’s chest is pressed to your back, his hand is cupping your wet folds, as he’s taking you from behind, sleepily moving his cock in and out of your sore pussy, drenched with his cum.

“Oh, baby— ahhh—love you—so much—yeahh— so good—,” he’s whispering in your ear, his voice gruff with sleep, his hot breath caressing your cheek. You moan softly before echoing him, “I love you, Joel.”

You beg him not to stop, already feeling yourself on the brink of ecstasy. The nature of your relationship makes it a rarity to be used by him in your sleep and you get turned on instantly. His arm snakes under and wraps around you as he starts pulling and twitching your nipples, while his other hand massages your puffy folds and then moves up.

“Damn—right here,” Joel grows, feeling a lump, moving under your skin. Thrusting his cock in and out with a steady rhythm, he mumbles, “Gimme,” grabs your hand and presses your palm tightly to your own belly, covering it with his hand.

“Feel it?”

“Yes, Joel, fuck,” you whimper and turn your head to catch his lips with yours. Joel keeps fucking you leisurely while you both are feeling the push of his cock under your skin.

Completely drunk on pleasure, swallowing each other's moans, you start coming hard at the same time, and your bodies, wet with sweat, jerk against each other. You feel so full, complete - your core is full of his load, your heart is full of his love. Happy in your oblivion, you fall asleep in the heaven of Joel’s arms.

But the dreaded morning comes fast. You try to concentrate on the tasks at hand, focus on the last preparations and soon Joel and you get into the cab, ready to head to the airport. You throw one last look at the hotel and the ocean, and take a deep breath, fighting the urge to cry. Sensing it, Joel pulls you closer and starts telling you an old childhood story, something about his brother Tommy and them ditching school together. You know what he’s doing but surprisingly it works and soon your giggles and his deep laugh fill the cab, lighting up the air between you two.

When you arrive in Austin, Joel insists on going to your address together. You refuse at first, but spending an extra hour with him sounds amazing. You hold hands on the way and shamelessly make out at the back of the cab.

You arrive at your place and Joel helps you with your suitcases. When you step into your flat, it seems like you’re carrying something heavy on your shoulders. Should you apologize for the last few days? Should you say something about it at all, risking leaving a bad taste in your mouths, ruining the whole trip.

But Joel beats you to it.

He comes up to you and hugs you tight. So tight that it’s hard for you to breathe. You nuzzle his neck, reveling in his scent, and suddenly you feel his whole body shake. You tilt your head up and see tears in his sad eyes. You’ve never seen Joel cry before, and it makes your chest hurt and your eyes well up too.

“Joel?“

“No, baby. Listen to me.” His voice is shaky, and fear grips your heart. Is he going to break up with you? You’d die on the spot.

He sniffs and continues,

“I’m sorry. Sorry for the mess I got you in. Sorry for your tears, but — I can’t, baby. Can’t do what you want from me. Rightfully so, but — not now. I’m sorry.”

You’re shaking your head, your teardrops landing on his tee,

”No, it’s ok. It’s fine.”

“It’s not, sweetheart. I’m an asshole. It’s horrible what I’m doing to them and to you. But I’m fuckin selfish. I can’t — can not be with you. I need you. I love you too much.”

You smile weakly, hearing his confession. Joel takes your hands in his and holds them tightly as he croaks,

“And you decide to stop seeing me, I’ll understand. I won’t bother you. I promise.”

You wipe tears off his scruffy cheeks and reach up to give him a kiss.

When you part from him, your expression is serious and determined.

“There’s nothing to decide, Joel. I love you. And I’ll wait for you. As long as you need me to. I’m yours.”

Joel’s red eyes dart between yours, and you give him a reassuring smile. After taking a deep breath, he whispers ,

“I don’t deserve you.”

He lifts you up, strong arms wrapped around your torso, and crashes his mouth against yours. You kiss him back with passion, putting your love in every stroke of your lips. Joel possessively licks into your mouth, his big hand cups the back of your head, keeping you close - a sign that he’s not letting you go. He needs you too much.

It might be wrong, it might bring you both grave pain, but a glimmer of hope in your heart, given by his confession, puts a smile on your face when you close the door behind him. He loves you, he wants to be with you, you’re his. And for now, it should be enough.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!<3

MASTERLIST

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

People who were interested in the wip: @baronessvonglitter @almostfoxglove @tammythr @sawymredfox @myownwholewildworld @guiltyasdave

[carbonfiction]

Dark Desires

older, best friends dad!Logan x reader

summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..

warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.

A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.

Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)

Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.

You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.

You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?

But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?

You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.

You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.

You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.

You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.

One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.

Everyone had laughed, all except you.

You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.

You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.

But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?

So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.

You: I need something.

You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.

But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.

It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.

Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.

That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.

Logan: You need to go to sleep

Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.

But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?

You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.

Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.

You: sorry. Wrong number.

And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.

Logan: Is that true sweetheart?

Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.

You: No

Just that. A simple No.

Logan: You telling a lie?

You: Not exactly

Logan: So you wanted my attention then?

You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.

And yes, you know need is a very strong word.

Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.

You: what if i want something dangerous.

You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.

A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.

But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.

Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?

And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.

You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.

Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.

You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.

You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.

Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.

Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.

She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.

Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.

And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.

The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency

But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.

Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'

You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.

Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.

Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.

You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.

Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.

Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.

Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.

You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.

Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.

Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.

You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.

Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.

So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?

when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.

Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.

You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.

You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.

His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.

But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.

His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.

He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.

And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.

"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.

Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.

"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"

Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.

"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.

"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.

"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.

Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.

"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.

"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"

With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"

You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.

"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."

And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.

It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.

Used and humiliated around logans cock.

Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.

He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."

Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm

"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.

"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."

"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"

You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.

"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"

and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .

But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow

you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.

Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.

The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.

"Kitty!"

Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.

"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"

Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.

Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."

No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.

Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.

"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"

You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."

You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.

"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"

You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.

it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.

Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.

"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"

You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.

You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.

thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333

[prettygirl-gabi]

Mornings Like This

Pairing: Mom!Paige Bueckers x Mom!Reader

Fandom: WNBA- Dallas Wings

Summary: Kids surprise you and Paige with breakfast-in-bed on Mother’s Day.

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @iwasbored-okay

There’s a soft rustle at the edge of the bed, the kind that usually jolts me awake when one of the kids is up past bedtime—or when Hunter has to pee and refuses to go unless someone “guards the hallway.”

But this time, I’m floating in that syrupy space between sleep and wake, warm under the comforter with Paige tucked behind me, one arm draped loosely across my waist, her breathing steady and slow against the back of my neck.

It smells like syrup.

Wait.

Syrup?

“Shhh!” a tiny voice stage-whispers. “You’re gonna spill the juice, Hunt!”

“I’m not!” Hunter whispers back with all the volume of a mini bulldozer.

I peek one eye open just in time to catch two little heads ducking behind the edge of our bed—one with curly brown hair bouncing with every move, the other with a floppy pajama hood that’s half falling off his head.

Everlynn and Hunter.

Of course.

“Mama’s moving!” Hunter hisses.

I close my eyes quickly and fight the smile creeping up my face. A few seconds later, the mattress dips slightly at the end. Someone climbs up.

“I’ll put the tray on the blanket, okay? You give Mama the card, and I’ll do Mommy’s.” That’s Everlynn. She’s got the bossy, big-sister energy on lock.

I feel a small hand press something against my arm.

The smell of pancakes is stronger now.

“Okay,” Hunter whispers proudly, “one… two… three…”

“MOMMY! MAMA!” both of them shout at once, and Paige practically jolts up behind me, nearly smacking foreheads with me in the process.

“What the—?” she mumbles, eyes squinting open. Then her whole face softens as she takes in the sight at the foot of the bed.

Two kids beaming.

A very wobbly tray holding two pancakes shaped—sort of—like hearts.

A mug that says Best Moms Ever, clearly a DIY job with paint smudges. And two handmade cards written in glitter glue and magic marker.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” they yell again, louder this time.

Paige lets out a sleepy laugh, hand going to her heart. “No way you guys did all this on your own.”

“We had help,” Everlynn says proudly, puffing her chest a little. “Titi Azzi and Titi Caroline came super early and snuck in the back door. We made breakfast and cleaned and—”

“I cut the bananas!” Hunter interrupts, clearly his proudest contribution.

“You did,” Azzi’s voice floats in from the hallway, and a second later, she’s peeking into the room with a big smile and an iPhone in hand, clearly ready to document the whole thing.

“Titi’s babies made a whole breakfast operation this morning.”

Caroline follows her in, holding a juice box and sipping it like a mimosa. “I was the sous chef-slash-chaos manager. But it was all their idea.”

I sit up slowly, still half-swaddled in Paige’s arms, my voice thick with emotion. “You guys… really did this for us?”

Everlynn nods solemnly. “Because you’re the best mommies in the world.”

Hunter climbs into Paige’s lap like it’s his designated throne, snuggling into her chest.

“And because we love you. And we made you pancakes shaped like love.”

Paige laughs into his hair. “Shaped like love, huh?”

“They’re a little… creative,” Caroline says delicately, eyeing the tray.

“Hey, at least the kitchen is still standing,” Azzi teases, slipping around to the far side of the bed.

She sets down her phone and tucks her legs under her. “Can we stay while you open your cards? The kids are really proud.”

“Of course,” I say, reaching for the glittery construction paper.

Mine has my name written across it in huge bubble letters: MAMA Y/N. The inside is filled with little hearts, a stick-figure drawing of me holding hands with both kids, and a poem that makes my throat close up.

Roses are red, pancakes are sweet,

You’re the best mama and can’t be beat!

You read me stories and braid my hair,

And snuggle with me in the rocking chair.

Love, Everlynn & Hunter (but mostly me, I wrote it)

I laugh, wiping my eyes as I look at them. “This is… this is beautiful.”

“You didn’t even get to the glitter stickers,” Everlynn says, pointing. “Look at the unicorn! That’s you.”

“Unicorn?” I tilt my head.

“Because you’re magical!” she says, like it’s obvious.

Paige opens hers next.

Her card is covered in basketballs and smiley faces, with a big HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY MOMMY scrawled across the top. Inside is a drawing of her dunking a ball—with a superhero cape on.

“I made you Super Mommy,” Hunter explains. “Because you play basketball and save people.”

Azzi nudges him. “Like a real-life hero, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods proudly, curling deeper into Paige’s arms.

Paige’s voice cracks a little when she says, “Best card I’ve ever gotten, buddy.”

“Can we eat the pancakes now?” Everlyee asks, practically bouncing.

“Only if you sit up here and eat with us,” I say, holding out an arm.

She scrambles in beside me and rests her head on my shoulder.

Azzi and Caroline start divvying up the plates, handing us all pieces of the slightly lumpy but delicious-smelling pancakes.

Caroline slips me a bottle of whipped cream like we’re passing secret contraband. I shoot her a grateful grin.

“Okay but wait,” Azzi says, snapping another photo, “this lighting is too cute. Everlyee, smile. Hunter, say syrup.”

“Syrup!” he yells with a mouth full of pancake, and we all laugh.

An hour later, the tray’s been cleared, there’s syrup in the sheets, and both kids are now sprawled across our laps like satisfied cats.

Azzi and Caroline have made themselves at home on the armchair and floor, respectively, both sipping coffee from mugs Paige got made for them last Christmas that say World’s Coolest Titi.

“This,” Paige says quietly, stroking Everlynn’s hair, “might be the best Mother’s Day yet.”

I glance at her. The morning sun is hitting her just right—golden and soft. Her hair’s a little messy from sleep, her eyes tired but warm, and her smile…

“Definitely the best,” I whisper.

She catches my hand and laces our fingers together over the blanket.

“Can’t believe they’re this big already. Wasn’t it just yesterday that Hunter was learning to walk and Ever was scared of bees?”

“Still scared of bees,” Everlynn mumbles, half-asleep.

“And Hunter still walks like a baby giraffe sometimes,” Caroline adds.

“Hey!” he says from Paige’s lap, pouting.

Paige smirks and kisses the top of his head. “You walk like a superhero now, baby. You’re our little Flash.”

Azzi’s already tearing up. “You two are raising the sweetest kids. Like, it’s insane. You need to write a parenting book or something.”

“Chapter One: Let Your Best Friends Help Sneak In Before Sunrise,” I say, smirking.

“Chapter Two: Bribery via pancakes,” Caroline adds.

Hunter suddenly perks up. “Can we do this again next year?”

Paige looks down at him. “You mean surprise us with breakfast and glittery cards?”

“And bring Titi Azzi and Titi Caroline?”

“We’ll make it a tradition,” I say. “Deal?”

“Deal,” both kids say at once.

Later that afternoon, once Azzi and Caroline have gone and the kids are running around in the backyard with water balloons, I find Paige in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with that little content smile she wears when everything feels right in the world.

I wrap my arms around her from behind and rest my chin on her shoulder.

“You know,” I murmur, “there are a million things I love about being a mom. But getting to do it all with you? That’s the best part.”

She leans into me, turning her head slightly so our cheeks touch. “Right back at you, babe.”

We stay like that for a long moment, just soaking in the quiet.

Until a water balloon hits the window with a splat, followed by two giggling voices shouting, “Mommies! Come play!”

Paige grins. “They’re gonna soak us.”

I kiss her cheek. “Yeah, but they made us pancakes shaped like love. We kind of owe them.”

She grabs two towels from the counter and hands me one. “Let’s go get drenched.”

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                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗