#Ten steps forward two steps back

[desi-yearning]

@desi-lgbt-fest Day-4: Ten Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

A Single Spark

TW: Homophobia

Today I'm here with a real life incident, the first one that I was reminded of as soon as I heard this theme.

It was back in 10th grade, all of us were back to offline classes after the dreadful online ones. 2 years ago, we'd been juniors who looked up to our seniors in 10th grade but now we were those seniors who were looked up to. I didn't realise this much until I finished grade-10.

My school regularly conducted sessions related to hygiene, communication etc and this time the topic was about sexual health. A well known gynaecologist was invited to take up the session for the 9th and 10th graders together. We went to the school hall, I was sitting next to my then best friend.

The gynaecologist first spoke about the importance of sexual wellbeing and how to protect ourselves from STDs etc. Soon after the topic shifted to impulsive and reckless sexual behaviours in teenagers. And that was when she began talking about how teenagers are simply thinking that they are homosexual because they have been staying with people of their same gender for a long time. How it is only because of people they are surrounded by that they think they are not straight. Not being straight is simply now a trend and a trap that young children are falling into without knowing anything. She continued to say that homosexuality doesn’t exist, it is just a misbelief and a phase. She proceeds to urge us not to fall for such things and stay away from people who suggest all this.

And by this time, I was enraged. My best friend was already out to me but I was still closeted, she knew I was an ally nevertheless. There were already rumours going around that both of us weren’t straight and that we were dating each other, so I decided not to risk anything. I controlled myself until the QnA session when I suggested to her that we go and actually question her about it. My best friend was scared, she was anxious about speaking out to everyone but I asked her to trust me with it and I assured that I’ll be the one questioning the gynaecologist and she can just sit beside me. I went forward, took a deep breath and held the mic that was given and asked her why she would simply call it a phase when people from the community are actually existing. And I stated a bunch of article numbers that came up to my mouth because I forgot what the actual one was and said some random lines about how homosexuality was legalised in India. (I mean who would know I was bluffing-) I never in my wildest dreams expected what followed. The entire hall began clapping. They haven’t done that for anyone else, not even for the so-called doctor herself. It was so loud that she had to shout and quieten everyone. It was such a proud moment for both me and my best friend but our happiness was short-lived because the response we got from the gynaecologist obviously wasn’t anything positive. It was after this that I realised how many allies are actually present among us and how their voices just aren’t loud enough to be heard.

Though the gynaecologist’s response made us feel like we went two steps back, what followed after that day was definitely 10 steps forward. Almost a year later, I spoke to a junior anonymously and she told me how that one question changed the entire trajectory of things at school. No one has ever dared to question someone about their homophobic ideas in public but we did. That was enough to begin something that won’t be dying anytime soon. Sometimes all that people need is a tiny bit of revolution, the hope towards change. It is all just a matter of a single spark.

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

The magnitude of the deal felt more earth shaking this time around. The beams holding up the tower shrieked in protest, shuddering as their bolts fought to keep from detaching from the side of the hotel. The hotel itself was marginally less effected, only the top two floors rumbling as the shockwave moved through them. By the time the wave of their magic reached the bottom floors and the ground itself, it was hardly noticeable, save the fact one would have to be blind not to have seen the magic itself.

The radio tower's occupants blinked at each other, both simultaneously realizing they probably should have sealed the deal somewhere other than a structure held up by a handful of beams.

Alastor drew his hand away, staring around at the mess they had made of his studio. Anything not bolted down or with a sturdy base had toppled over. The coat rack lay on its side, the blanket that had been thrown over it sprawled out beside it. The lamp and table had both been upended. One of the lamp's eyes was cracked, its light dimmed. The remaining eyes skittered around the room in alarm. Alastor's notes had been scattered across the floor, one of the halves on his staff amongst them. The icing on the cake was two of the windows were severely cracked, with a third having a handful of spider web fractures running through it.

Lucifer took it all in, wincing at the damage. He raised his cane, intent on restoring the room and repairing the integrity of the structure. Only to pause when Alastor placed a hand over his hands to stop him.

"None of that, your Majesty." He released the fallen angel in favor of retrieving the half of the microphone that had fallen to the floor and setting it with its other half. "I'm more than capable of taking care of my things if you would be so kind as to carry out my first favor."

Lucifer suspected Alastor simply didn't want anyone messing with his things any more than they'd already been messed with. He gave him a side eye in response to the possessiveness, shoo'ing the redhead back as he stepped up to the desk.

Alastor took a step back up, but only a single one. He wasn't hovering, per se, but it was apparent he was anxious to see his microphone repaired and returned to him.

Lucifer put him out of his mind, concentrating on the task in front of him. He reached out, fingers coming to lightly rest upon both halves of the staff. This would have been easier had it been an inanimate object, although it was likely Alastor wouldn't have needed to waste a favor if it had been. All angels had an innate ability to heal, some undoubtedly better than others. Lucifer's talents lay more with creation and rebuilding. Healing was similar, sure, but it involved forcing organic cells to divide and multiply far faster than they would have on their own until the wound had knit itself back together.

Then again, if it had been a wholly alive being, like Alastor himself, he would have just given it some of his blood and called it a day. With the new knowledge he'd gained, he was suspicious the deer demon had benefited in more ways than he'd known from those two previous feedings. The staff must have taken the brunt of the damage, if Alastor was still alive, let alone up and moving about. A direct hit would have killed him, for sure.

Lucifer closed his eyes, opening his senses to the very elements that made up the staff. The issue with damage caused by angelic weapons lay with the fact that they were blessed. God himself had created the steal that made up their spears, imbuing it with special powers so that his soldiers could carry out his will with little opposition. Weapons made from angelic grace weren't quite as powerful, as the angels made the weapons, rather than God, but they still weren't anything to sniff at. Weapon's made of angelic grace weren't a certain death threat to other angels, divine beings that they were, but it was certainly a very effective tool against sinners. To take divine will of any kind to something already damned was to ask for things to get very catastrophic very quickly.

Alastor really had no clue how lucky he was to be alive.

What gave them any chance of this working was that the staff knew how it was supposed to fit together. The two broken ends called to each other. Lucifer just had to bridge the gap so they could comb back together and they would be in business. Falling into autopilot as he allowed the process to guide him, he picked up each half. The break hadn't been easy or clean. The two edges no longer fit perfectly together. He had to pull from the blueprint within the staff's genetic makeup to coach the pole into being a smooth column again. From there, he had the equally hard job of convincing the two edges that they could reform again, but once they were certain it was possible, the two edges became magnetized, snapping and mending together until they were a single, solid structure again.

Lucifer snapped his eyes open. Sitting in his hands was the microphone of the infamous Radio Demon, whole and restored to its full glory with not a hint that it had ever been damaged.

Between one blink to the next, the staff vanished. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer saw it reappear in Alastor's hand. The sinner gave it a twirl, before tapping it to the ground to test its durability. Assured that it was indeed fully restored and could withstand some rough handling, Alastor brought the end to the ground with a hard, sharp crack.

Voodoo symbols lit the air around them with their sinister green glow. Shadows spilled out across the floor like ink, spreading up the walls until the entire room (and likely the entire structure) was engulfed in them. The only light remaining came from the soft glow of Alastor's eyes and teeth.

Lucifer, who needed no light to see, tracked the way Alastor's magic not just coaxed the various misplaced items back into their proper positions, but it also restored them back into their pre-damaged state. By the time the shadows dispersed like smoke and the symbols vanished out with a wink, everything was back to how it had been when they entered with not a single item or sheet of paper out of place. It was as if time itself had reversed itself before his eyes.

Grinning from ear to ear, Alastor tapped the microphone end of his staff. The sound echoed around them as it connected with the equipment, signifying that it was indeed functional again. Outside, the ON AIR sign flicked on for the first time since the extermination. Meeting Lucifer's gaze, expression predatory, Alastor greeted any listener with a radio nearby with: "Greetings and salutations, sinners. Did you miss me?"

He walked the scant distance between where he stood and his work station, deliberately walking around and behind Lucifer. As he passed, he ran a single finger along the fallen angel's back from shoulder to shoulder, merely because he could. "Of course you have," Alastor continued jovially. "Well, never fear, my wicked listeners, as your regularly scheduled broadcasts will begin again soon." Leaning over the controls, he pressed down on a more prominently visible button. What was visible of the ON AIR sign's light winked out as his short broadcast ended as fast as it began.

Seeing him in his element, Lucifer was certain this was the first time he'd ever seen Alastor sincerely happy to any degree. The very air around him seemed to have changed, becoming charged with possibility. It was a stark testament to how diminished he'd been up until that point. Alastor gave the staff a toss from hand to hand, as if refamiliarizing himself with its weight. Satisfied at last, he set it down in front of him, resting his hands upon it. Everything about his body language sang of his satisfaction. "Yes," he purred. "This will do quite nicely."

Lucifer opened his mouth, likely to come up with a witty retort, but never got the chance. It died on his lips as he was cut off by a sharp banging on the window to his left. As one, both turned to see what had made the noise.

Hovering outside, livid with her spear out was Vaggie. And she looked more than ready to break Alastor's windows all over again. She wouldn't have been able to, being on the other side of Lucifer's barrier, but she looked more than happy to try. They could just barely hear her as she shouted, "What the fuck did you do, Alastor?!"

Out of his peripheral view, Lucifer saw Alastor waggle his fingers at her in a wave, completely unconcerned as usual. If he didn't hope that the asshole really would get stabbed one day, Lucifer would have had a little chat about Alastor egging on people who could and would do just that.

Wincing, Lucifer imagined that if Vaggie was here, it was likely Charlie wasn't far behind. It was just as likely the only reason she wasn't outside the window herself was because she couldn't fly. With a wave of his hand, he dropped the barrier around Alastor's domain.

The moment it was dropped, Alastor darted forward. Lulled into a false sense of security by the redhead's previous helplessness, Lucifer didn't react in time to stop Alastor from wrapping a hand around his waist and pulling him in.

Prize acquired, Alastor pulled them both into his shadow.

Lucifer had not paid too much attention to Alastor's shadows, beyond acknowledging they existed and they could be lethal. He had noted how the redhead's personal shadow seemed to have a life of it's own, both working in tangent and separately of Alastor. Lucifer had only seen it twice, but he'd found it to be cheeky and only tolerable because it didn't speak. Unlike the demon who cast it.

Whatever Alastor had plunged them into - whether it be another realm or something else - felt wrong. It felt like being plunged into an ice cold bath, but on a metaphysical level. Darkness to a degree that the simple absence of light couldn't explain surrounded them on all sides. Out of the void came the feeling that they were being watched as they passed through.

Hands he couldn't feel, but still knew were there, curled into Alastor's coat until the fabric threatened to tear. The place screamed unholy. Every instinct in his body reared it's head, telling him that he - a child of God, disowned or not - shouldn't be there. He wanted to light a flame to chase away the darkness, if only he could figure out if he needed to use divine or demonic magic. Above all, he needed to get out. It was only because he wasn't entirely certain he couldn't escape on his own that he didn't actually just portal himself away.

Later, when he was able to think about that place without his mind shying away from it, he'd realize that something about the feeling of it was familiar.

But that would be then, and for now, the whole experience ranked as sheer nightmare fuel. How could Alastor stand it? Was it because he was human and/or a sinner? This place could drive a being insane.

When they reappeared in Alastor's hotel room, it felt like an eternity had passed as opposed to a mere minute or two. Lucifer took a shallow breathe, his whole body shaking like a bird trying to resettle it's feathers.

Oh, that was deeply unpleasant. He never wanted to do that again, ever.

Nonchalant, Alastor took hold of the hand clutching his jacket in a death grip. His smile oozed of false politeness. "Are you alright, your Majesty? You look a little pale."

As if he didn't know that place was messed up. Lucifer was distracted from wiping that smug grin off of the redhead's face by a loud bang against the other side of Alastor's door, the wood around the lock shattering as it finally gave up the ghost of keeping anyone out. The door slammed open, hitting the wall with such force that it ricocheted off of it.

Cherri stood with her foot still poised in the air, giving herself away as the person who had literally kicked the door open. Charlie hovered just behind her, hands in the air as if she had been trying to stop her. Angel stood to her other side, his main arms crossed, while his secondary hands were resting on his hips. "See," he was in the process of saying to Charlie, triumph both audible in his voice and visible on his face. "I told ya we could get the door open without the bombs."

"Yes, well, it would have been better if we didn't damage the door!" Charlie admonished, voice high pitched with stress. She turned her attention to the room itself, tensing as took in the scene in front of them. Lucifer watched her tense, fear twisting her features in a way he hadn't seen since her teenage years. "Dad! Are you alright?" She burst into the room making a beeline for her father.

Lucifer stepped away from Alastor to meet her, putting on an only marginally strained smile. "Of course, sweetie. Everything is fine."

Despite his reassurances, she checked him over for herself. When she was assured he was okay, she turned on Alastor. Her fingers twitched like she wanted to give him a similar inspection, but was holding back. "What did you do?" Her expression was a mixture of concern, anger, and guilt.

Alastor ran his hand down his coat, smoothing the creases out until it was as impeccable as ever. "How suspicious! What makes you think this is my doing?"

"Because it usually is." This was from Vaggie, who had appeared in the doorway while no one was looking. She pushed past Cherri and Angel, who were lingering for the promise of drama and maybe a little bit of curiosity over why the hotel was nearly knocked down for a second time in as many months. She marched straight up to Alastor, and then jabbed a finger into his chest when she was near enough to do so. "First Charlie and now Lucifer?! I knew we should have never let you stay here!"

Lucifer had been content to stand back and let Alastor take the heat. Maybe soil his own image a bit in Charlie's eyes. After all, Lucifer had been willing pay for his help. To make promises he was more than willing to keep, if it was within his power to keep. Alastor was the one who turned it into a binding deal, however predictable the move had been.

Then the implications of what Vaggie said sank in.

He could feel his control over his form slipping as he felt the anger rising. He reached out, almost not wanting to believe that it was true.

But there it was. The green chain of one of Alastor's deals hung from Charlie's wrist, damning evidence of the truth.

Lucifer saw red. His voice was cold despite the fire he could feel burning his tongue. "You made a deal with my daughter?!" The chain creaked as his fist tightened around it. He was going to shatter this little deal, take the remaining shards and shove them down Alastor throat. Then he was going to wrap his hand around his neck and--

"Dad, wait!"

The sight of Charlie suddenly filling his vision felt like being doused in cold water, enough to allow sanity to creep back in and take root again. "Charlie, I told you! You can't take shit from sinners like him." He glanced behind her, still able to see Alastor, posture tense and ears pinned back. His shadow was curled uneasily at his feet, ready to spirit him away at a moment's notice. Lucifer hissed. "They're nothing but parasites feeding off the rest of humanity."

For a brief moment, and only because Charlie had her back to him, Alastor bared his teeth, neither ashamed nor cowed.

Charlie raised her hands to calm him. She paused when one hand didn't raise as far as the other, catching on the chain around her wrist. Wincing at the fact that he was now physically restraining her, Lucifer released it. The chain vanished back into the ether. Freed of the restriction, Charlie lightly placed her hands on his arms, saying, "Dad, it's okay." She smiled to show she really believed it to be so. "He gave us information on how to protect the hotel. I'm happy to do something to help him in return."

Her smile, her trust, had the opposite effect, angering him further. "Charlie..." Lucifer wasn't certain who he was more angry with in that moment: himself for believing that Alastor might actually care about Charlie, in his own way, or Alastor for being none other than Alastor. All the signs were there: the redhead might like to play his games with Lucifer, but his interactions with the Charlie held a hint of genuine attachment to them.

Yet it would always be about power with him, wouldn't it? Could he even help himself anymore, when presented with an opportunity he seemingly couldn't pass up?

Lucifer's expression saddened as he focused on his daughter. His hands rose up to gently take hold of the wrist the chain was wrapped around, even if it were no longer visible. As a parent, he wanted to protect her from situations like these: where she was bound to get hurt. He knew he needed to give her space to learn from her mistakes, but how could he just leave his baby girl in the hands of a known sadist? "If he really had your best interests at heart, he wouldn't have needed to make a deal with you."

Charlie's eyes searched his, brows furrowed. "Dad, I can take of myself, remember?"

Because he never knew when to stop when he was ahead, Alastor interrupted them with, "There's no need for fighting, my dear. Your father is right." A red clawed hand appeared on her shoulder. Both of the Morningstars looked to see Alastor standing at Charlie's side. Alastor was giving her the same look he'd given her during his and Lucifer's swing dance show down over who was the better father figure for her. It made Lucifer's teeth itch with how false it was.

Charlie, on the other hand, merely watched him with confusion. "Alastor? What do you mean?"

As if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, Alastor said, "Only that bonds built on mistrust make for unstable foundations." With a flick of his free hand, a glowing document appeared out of thin air, unfurrowing to reveal Charlie's signature plain as day at the bottom.

It was Charlie's contract.

"I think we can both agree," he carried on, knowing he had everyone in the room hanging on his every word, "That you and I have built such a bond of trust that this silly little thing isn't necessary."

Before anyone could react to that clearly manipulative statement, Alastor took the document, one claw on each of the top corners and ripped it in half. Without missing a beat, he tossed the two halves to either side of himself, the supernatural paper catching fire and burning away as if fell. A wisp of ash touched the floor before disappearing. "Charlie, I release you from our deal."

Lucifer stared, his emotions a storm of confusion and doubt. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. There was no way. Alastor would never have just released anyone from their deal with him unless he was getting something out of it. Alastor didn't do things for the good of other people. This had to be a game somehow. But what did he gain from it? Unease began to creep in as Lucifer tried to make sense of what he'd just witnessed.

The answer came when Charlie inhaled sharply, all but literal stars in her eyes. "Alastor! I'm so proud of you!" She threw herself at the redhead, wrapping her arms around him in a bone crushing hug. "Of course you can trust me!"

Lucifer realized with dawning horror that this, this was what Alastor gained from that little display of pretending to show faith and trust. Charlie had bought it hook, line, and sinker. His whole body locked up, the instinct to protect his child at war with the fear of excommunicating her by killing Alastor for the sheer audacity.

Worse, Lucifer had been right there and he had still failed to protect her from this sinner.

Alastor's expression softened with fondness as he tolerantly patted her head, enduring the forced contact with grace. After letting her have her hug, he gently pried her hands off of him, to which Charlie winced, saying, "Sorry! Sorry, I know. Boundaries."

The redhead gave her a light bop on the nose, to show he forgave her her trespasses. "It's perfectly alright. No harm done." He sent his microphone away to clear his hands, freeing them to clap together, as if he didn't already have everyone's attention. "Now, if everyone would kindly vacate my room, I have a very long To Do List to accomplish and there are only so many hours in the day to do it."

Angel and Cherri didn't need to be told twice, ready to make themselves scarce now that the drama had passed. Charlie moved over to grip Vaggie's arm as they walked together out the door, the taller woman saying with excitement, "Vaggie, did you see! I told you!"

It was a relief to see that Vaggie still looked doubtful, for all that it did nothing to slow down how quickly Alastor was entrapping Charlie little by little.

When it was just the two of them, Alastor turned to Lucifer, his smile maliciously pleasant. "Come now, your Majesty, out you go. One of those tasks is one you appointed me yourself."

It took every ounce of Lucifer's no small amount of self control not to lose his shit all over again now that they were alone. "You may have Charlie fooled, but don't think for a second I don't see through you."

Alastor leaned forward, his hand wrapping itself around their mutual deal. The physical reminder of how entangled they already were casting a golden, green glow upon his face. Bold to his core and with the fearlessness born of someone who knew he held Lucifer's number one weakness in his claws, he said, sweetly, "And yet, I've already got exactly what I wanted."

Lucifer slapped the hand away, as if allowing the chain to disappear would somehow make what he said any less true. "Thin ice, Alastor. Don't forget it."

He pivoted on his heel, refusing to see what the response would have been. If he wanted any hope of being able to work with Alastor, Lucifer needed to leave now before any remaining good will was burned away.

He ignored the way that Alastor's gaze burned into his back, the sensation lingering long after he'd left.

tbc

Part 11

[navree]

i'm SO conflicted about the james gunn dc universe because it feels like for every piece of news i get that i like, there's one i get that i dislike

case in point, i like most of the superman suit that was revealed today, i really do, but i don't really like the neckline (it's giving new 52 superman) and some of the design details just feel off

[blueberrisoup]

i wish i didn’t feel so stuck all the time

[criminalamnesia]

that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.

love your writing btw!

thank you! here’s part two :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you were beginning to hate the infirmary.

the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.

the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.

your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.

you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.

his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.

you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.

fuck him and his apologies.

you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.

it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.

he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.

“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.

“can we talk? please?”

you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.

he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.

“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.

“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.

“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”

silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.

“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.

“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.

simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.

simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.

“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”

he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.

he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.

your voice is full of venom as you speak.

“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”

price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?

to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.

“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”

the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.

he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.

after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.

but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.

you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.

but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.

price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.

simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.

there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.

he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?

simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.

and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.

he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.

he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?

you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.

so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.

a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.

you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.

the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.

how do you let something like this go?

you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.

once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.

so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.

you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.

you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.

time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.

now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.

you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.

“come in!” price called from inside.

you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.

your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.

and then you noticed simon.

he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.

the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.

you quickly turned your attention back to price.

“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.

“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.

the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.

“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.

“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”

the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.

“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.

he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.

“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”

you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.

“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”

you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?

you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.

“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”

with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.

author’s note:

apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)

[nanaslutt]

• I will always catch you •

ʚ synopsis: You and Nanami play a game of tag, if he wins he spanks you

ʚ cont: fem reader, spanking, fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation

You stood with your hands perched on the back of the couch, your eyes not once straying from where they were glued to Nanami's opposite the couch from you, the only thing that separated the two of you besides the coffee table that sat in front of the couch. "Ten second headstart." You said, already feeling your heart start to pick up at the promise of Nanami chasing you around. 

You knew logically no matter how much time you asked for, he would always catch you in the end, but that's what you wanted, not that you would tell him that—even if he already knew. Nanami nodded, removing his hands from his pockets confidently, his mouth barely quirking up in a smile at the corners, the skin beside his mouth dimpling with it. "You won't catch me this time." Lie. "We'll see." Was his only reply before he raised his hands and started ticking down his fingers, letting you know he had started the timer.

You ran around the couch, passing him where he stood on the other side as you ran for the kitchen across the room, using the large island in the middle of it to separate him from you. It was your best bet to escape him for as long as possible, wait him out here, bait him to stalk you around the island, and shoot up the stairs for his office which had the only locking door in the house save for the bathroom, but that was too close to the kitchen, you needed more time to get away. 

You watched, eyes bright and heart racing as his fingers hit 1, then he closed his hand tightly, letting you know you were out of time before he started walking toward you calmly. Your smile grew larger the closer he got, as did his, though he was far more cocky and confident than yours which was playful and full of adrenaline. "Aren't you going to run, sweetheart?" Nanami asked, cocking his head to the side as he made his way to the kitchen, standing across the island from you.

"I told you I learned some new tricks, you won't catch me this time." You said confidently, moving slowly toward the corner of the island, trying to bait Nanami into following you. And sure enough, he did. He didn't reply to you, just started walking towards the side in which you were closest to him, making you walk away from him, the two of you slowly circling the kitchen island as you made your way back to the opening of the living room.

You knew not to avert your eyes to his and give away your plans, if he caught you looking towards the direction you were going to run, he would catch you—no doubt about it. Nanami was taller and faster, his long legs eating up the space between you like nothing whenever you ran from him, so you had to be smart about this. "We'll see if your tricks are enough." Nanami finally voiced, stopping in his tracks diagonal to you, him standing where you just were in the kitchen, your positions now reversed. 

You smiled at him in response, showing your teeth before you turned abruptly and took off sprinting across the living room. Your heart raced in your chest, the sound echoing through your whole body and making that the only thing you were able to hear. You wanted to turn around so bad and see how close he was, but you knew you couldn't afford to do so. You let out a laugh as you reached the banister on the stairs, gripping it tightly as you pulled yourself forward, using that momentum to run up them as quickly as you could. 

You tried not to think about how Nanami often went up the steps two at a time, so if he was running he could probably manage three or more... shit. Your adrenaline was still pumping, making you more assured of yourself as you reached the top of the stairs, sure he wasn't right on your tail. His office was in your sight already as you pushed off the wall and sprinted toward the end of the hall. You were mentally praising Nanami for his constant pushing to leave all doors in the house open unless they were being occupied so the air could flow freely between them, making it so none of the rooms were stuffy—meaning the door was wide open and all you had to do was grab that door and slam it like your life depended on it. 

You could only feel your own steps as you raced down the hall, surprised that he hadn't reached the top of the stairs yet, but that meant you had one, you finally had one. You reached the office and grabbed the handle before spinning yourself around and momentarily disorienting yourself before you were snatched into a pair of strong arms and hoisted over a shoulder with a scream of surprise. You felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest and run away at the shock.

How had he got you so fast? You were sure he wasn't on your trail, but apparently, that had been wishful thinking. "Nanami!" You laughed, kicking your legs against him, trying to free yourself as he held you over his shoulder with an iron grip, his arm locked tightly around the back of your thighs so you couldn't wiggle out of his grasp. Your laugh was cut short when a harsh smack was left on your ass, the sting making you whip your hands back and cover yourself from him. 

Nanami swiftly kicked the door shut behind him and stalked over to his desk, wrenching your hands away from your ass easily in his grip. "This is my reward for catching you, hands down." He said calmly, the deep baritone of his voice making you shiver as he pulled you off his shoulder and spun you away from him, using his body to press you against the edge of his desk and pushing you down on it with his hand on the middle of your back.

You weren't able to resist his moves, the speed of his actions making your body more pliant than you would've liked. The papers on his desk crumpled under your chest as you tried to push yourself up so you could stand again, and maybe try to attempt to run away, though you never had been successful at that before. Kento grabbed your wrists with both his hands and locked them behind your back with strength only he could possess, freeing himself a hand as he kept you at his mercy, rubbing his free hand against the swell of your ass.

"The new trick you tried didn't work so well." Nanami cooed, stating the obvious and making your face feel hot as he rubbed your loss in your face. "Were you planning to lock yourself in my office?" He asked, sliding his hand up and down the side of your body, making your skin prickle under your shirt. "Yeah, I was close too." You said defiantly, trying to gain back even a little bit of your ego. You had been so sure of yourself and now look at the position you ended up in.

"Mmm," Nanami hummed, the deep sound of it in his throat making your legs part willingly for him as he pressed his knee against the inside of your thigh and made you spread them. "What were you planning to do once you were in here?" He asked, making you pause. You looked around his office, thinking on his words. I don't know, relish in your victory? Bait him through the door? Write taunting notes about how he's a loser and slide them under the door for him to read?

"What do you think would happen when you opened the door? You couldn't stay in here forever." He asked confidently. "I'd come out because I would have won." You said quickly, the answer obvious, "There is no time limit on the game." He said, his fingers pushing up the back of your shirt and sliding against the skin of your back, pushing the fabric against your arms that were locked behind your back. The gears in your head started turning as you considered his words. 

"What do you mean?" You asked, turning your head as far to the side as you could manage to look at him from under your lashes. "I will always catch you, you can't escape me." You opened your mouth to complain, to whine about how the game has been rigged from the start, how there was no way you could ever win, when a loud slap against your ass stopped your words from coming, a different sound escaping you. Your hands balled into fists as you wiggled back against him, trying to find relief against the sting that never came. 

"That's not fair." You pouted. Nanami huffed out a laugh before his large hand rubbed across your backside, his fingers finding the hem of your shorts before pulling them down to pool around your ankles. "No, it's not." He agreed, another harsh smack making contact with your skin, making you jump. Nanami's warm hand stayed against your flesh rubbingaway the pain as he pressed closer to you, his crotch pressed against your left thigh. "But you don't mind as much as you're trying to make me think you do." He said assuredly. 

You felt a tick of annoyance run through you before it was almost completely snuffed out by another slap of his hand, this one followed by two more in quick succession against your other cheek. "Why would you think that?" You sighed, trying not to pant through your words and give in to him as much as you wanted to. "This whole game has been rigged the whole time." You complained, your eyebrows shooting up when he pressed his knee against your clothed cunt, making you press try to press your legs together--an action that was stopped by his knee that was knocked into your own, keeping you spread. 

Nanami gripped your ass in his hand before leaning over you, massaging the fat of your backside as his weight crushed you, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. He rut his hips against your thigh, letting you know how much he was enjoying his win before he pressed a kiss right under your ear. You shut your eyes, a gasp falling from your lips as all complaints left your brain, the only thing you could think of being the weight and scent of him as he consumed you entirely. 

"You like it when I chase you, but you like it when I catch you even more." He whispered against your ear, his voice making you clench around nothing. "You're so cocky." You breathed, making him breathe out a laugh before he placed a kiss on your neck, the top of your spine, your shoulder blade. You held your breath when his hand that gripped your flesh slid between your legs, your body welcoming him as you spread your legs wider for him.

You couldn't stop the gasp that fell from between your lips when he pushed aside your panties like they were never there and rubbed his fingers through your wetness before dragging them across your clit. "And you're soaked, sweetheart," Nanami replied, showing you just how right he was about how much you loved being caught by him. But you didn't need him to tell you that, you already knew. 

Nanami leaned back from crushing you with his body at the same time he slid his fingers back down to your entrance and pushed two thick fingers inside you like it was nothing—and it might've well been, his fingers getting swallowed up by your wet cunt with ease. The groan that left your lips made his cock twitch in response, the feeling of his hard length against the back of your thigh driving you crazy. 

He released your arms from being caged behind your back, which you immediately used to grab the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Just when you were about to beg him for more, he slapped you again, harder this time, your ass stinging at the impact while your pussy tightened around his fingers like a vice. Nanami echoed your moan with a groan of his own as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching of your cunt echoing throughout his office.

"I can feel how much you like it." Nanami groaned, his voice deeper and more assertive with his arousal prominent. "Fuck," You whined, wiggling your hips back to meet his thrusts." Smack, another slap making you whine, a fuzziness starting to build in your mind as he fucked you harder on his fingers. "Tell me how much you like it, honey." Nanami moaned, though it sounded more like a beg as he rubbed his hips harder against your ass, trying to relieve himself on you. 

"Kento," You whined, thrusting your hips back against him harder. A clinking of a belt and a zipper following the sound told you Nanami was ridding himself of his own pants. Another slap against your sore ass was all the motivation you needed to answer him, nodding against the desk. "I love it Ken, I love it, it feels so good." You whined, your clit throbbing at the lack of attention as you wiggled back, hoping he would relieve you soon. 

You cried out when he pulled his fingers out of you abruptly, "Shhh, don't cry-" His words ended as he slammed himself inside you in one thrust, the stretch and slight burn of the sheer size of him making your eyes roll back in your head as he started up a brutal pace inside you, giving you little time to adjust before his hand dropped to your clit just as you wanted while his other massaged your soon to be bruised ass. 

Without his knee between yours anymore, you were able to squeeze your thighs together around his hand as your orgasm wracked through your body, making you scream as he pounded it out of you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside your soft walls and prolonging your high as his expert fingers matched pace with his thrusts on your clit. "K-kento-" You whined, one of your hands wrapping around his wrist that kept rubbing your oversensitized clit, the pleasure of it bordering on pain. 

"I know, I know, honey." Nanami cooed, his voice soft but his actions a stark contrast as he slapped your ass twice, once on each cheek, never once faltering his rough thrusts inside you, "You have to let go, sweetheart. Let go of my hand." He instructed, making you shake your head back and forth violently, only resulting in his fingers rubbing faster back and forth along your clit, it was almost too much.

"T-too much, Kento- f-fuck-" You cried, squeezing your eyes shut tight as you tried to lean forward to escape the pleasure, but he just followed you with his thrusts, knocking hard into your g-spot each time he slammed inside you. "No, it's not, Iknow what you can take." He replied dismissively, massaging your ass in a circle. The two of you had a safeword that had been long established and never used, and you weren't thinking about using it now, so maybe he was right, maybe he did know how much you could take.

You simply whined in response, feeling another orgasm quickly creeping over you, no escape from it in sight. "Let go of my hand, sweetheart, I won't ask again," Nanami said through a groan, his hand briefly coming up to cradle your cheek in a sweet gesture before he slid it back down your body and slapped the back of your thigh. The niceness of his words and the roughness of his actions made it hard to combine them into one person, you almost wanted to curse him out for sounding so unaffected but you knew he wasn't fairing much better than you.

The small sounds of him grunting and cursing under his breath told you exactly how he was doing. Kento's thrusts started losing their rhythm as he lost himself inside you. Begrudgingly, you let go of his hand, your own shaking as you placed it back on the edge of the dest, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping it. "Good girl, I have you, I-I'll take care of you." The sound of Nanami's words getting choked off by a groan made your clit throb under his fingers. It was a fucking headrush knowing how much this man lost himself to you. 

"Please-" You begged, unsure of what you were asking for but knowing you weren't going to last much longer. "Let it out, I'm right behind you." Nanami nodded, leaning over your body and wrapping an arm under your stomach, pulling your back tightly to his chest as he humped his cock in and out of you, the stretch and loss of him with each thrust making you go a little dumb in the head each time. 

"Cum-" You weren't even able to finish your sentence as you came with a cry at the same time Nanami placed his lips on your cheek and kissed softly, trailing those kisses over your shoulder and neck as his fingers and cock worked in perfect harmony to draw your orgasm out of you. "Coming, I'm coming- oh my god-" Kento groaned through his teeth, his hair tickling your face as he buried his head in your neck and ground his hips flush against yours. 

The circular movement of Kento's hips against your ass made your legs shake with sensitivity as his fat tip rubbed against your g-spot as he emptied his balls inside you. A warmth filled you from the inside out with each kick of his cock as he came, rope after rope of his seed filling you just like he did every time he fucked you. A loud, low, continuous groan left his throat as his balls throbbed with his release, his fingers finally ceasing their rubbing against your clit as he went still, basking in his orgasm while keeping himself inside you. 

You reached a shaky, weak amr behind you and grabbed the back of his neck, gently scraping your nails up along his neck and trimmed undercut of his hair. Nanami hummed in satisfaction before he lifted his head and found your lips with ease, kissing you gently and lovingly, like the two of you had all the time in the world and nothing would ever separate the two of you. 

He pulled away and looked at you, a content expression on his face. He leaned in to press one more kiss against your eyelid before he pulled back entirely, smoothing his hands down your sides as he pulled out of you, making the both of you moan at the missing contact of the other. You already wanted to whine about how empty you felt, but you knew you could have him whenever you wanted so that feeling didn't last long.

"My ass hurts." You complained, breaking the silence as you were now finally able to feel the full extent of his actions without a clouded mind. Kento laughed as he pulled your panties back in their rightful place, keeping his cum stuffed inside you as he patted his fingers over your cunt before dropping down and sliding your shorts up your legs. "I'm sorry, my love. I'll take responsibility." He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

"You gonna massage my ass all night?" You asked, pushing your body up and leaning against the back of the desk, not yet ready to fully rely on your shaky legs yet. "Of course, I was the one who bruised it after all." Kento nodded as he buckled his belt back into place before stalking forward and caging you in with his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck like you've done a thousand times and let him lean in to kiss your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist to help you stand.

"Good." You said, relishing in his kisses before speaking up again, grabbing ahold of his face and pulling him back so you could look at him properly before you asked your question. "Was the game really rigged this whole time or were you just saying all that to be sexy?" Nanami smiled at that, his own hands grabbing your cheeks as he placed a kiss to the top of your head, to lessen the blow of his inevitable answer you knew was coming. " You know it is, I will always catch you." 

[pucksandpower]

Baby Girl Norris

Lando Norris x pediatrician!Reader

Summary: you know what you have to do — track down a world-famous Formula 1 driver, tell him about his newborn daughter, and maybe, if he’s willing, help him navigate single fatherhood — falling in love with their little family was not part of the plan … but doing so changes all your lives for the better

You take a deep breath as you enter the nursery, steeling yourself for the task ahead. As a pediatrician at the Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco, you’ve cared for thousands of babies over the years. But this case is different.

Baby Girl Norris, born just two hours ago, is now legally parentless after her mother signed away all parental rights. Hospital protocol demands you track down and notify the father before assuming guardianship. Easier said than done when the father is Formula 1 superstar Lando Norris.

Approaching the clear bassinet, you gaze down at the sleeping newborn. Wispy dark hair peeks out from under her pink cap. Ten tiny fingers curled into fists. She has no idea how complicated her life is about to become.

You flip through the chart again, verifying the details. Mother is French, here on a student visa. Refused to even look at the baby after a 27-hour labor, immediately signing away rights. Father listed as one Lando Norris of the United Kingdom.

You sigh, picking up the phone to dial the number listed. It rings five times before disconnecting. You try the landline for his Monaco residence with the same result. Probably outdated.

Time for plan B. You search the McLaren Racing website until you find a generic service line. Heart pounding, you dial.

“McLaren Technology Centre, this is Marie speaking.”

You take a breath. “Hello, I apologize for the strange request, but I need to reach Lando Norris as soon as possible. It’s … it’s regarding a private family matter.”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Norris does not accept unsolicited communications. Have a nice-”

“Wait!” You interject. “Please, I am calling from Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco. We have a newborn baby girl here, and we believe Mr. Norris may be the father.”

Marie hesitates. “Hold please, I’ll transfer you.”

Your pulse quickens. This may actually work! But your hopes are quickly dashed.

“This is Andrew from McLaren Racing public relations. May I ask who I’m speaking with?” His tone is suspicious.

You explain again about the baby, her mother, and the situation.

Andrew sighs loudly. “I’m sure you understand we get calls like this constantly. Lando isn’t even in the hemisphere right now. I’m afraid we can’t help you.”

“No, wait, please!” But the line goes dead.

You frown, gears turning. The team must think you’re some obsessed fan or scammer. You’ll have to get creative.

Over the next two days, you call every related number you can find. Each time you’re met with more resistance. They must have flagged your information as a nuisance caller.

On the third day, you’re signing charts at the nurse’s station when a colleague walks by. “Did you hear? Lando Norris is coming to take a tour of the hospital next week. Some charity thing.”

Your eyes widen. This is it — your chance to intercept him in person!

You spend the next few days obsessing over what to say, how to convince him. Baby Girl Norris needs her father.

The big day arrives. Heart hammering, you lurk near the lobby, peering around the hallway corner as Lando walks in flanked by handlers. He looks exhausted but flashes his winning smile at the staff welcoming him.

You watch them start down the opposite hallway for the tour when you make your move. Rushing forward, you plant yourself firmly in his path.

“Mr. Norris! Sorry, I need just a minute of your time, it’s urgent-”

A member of his team immediately swoops in, pushing you back. “Ma’am, please. We kindly ask that you step aside.”

“No, wait!” You raise your voice over them. “Mr. Norris, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a pediatrician here. I’ve been trying to reach you for days now regarding your newborn daughter!”

The team looks exasperated, but Lando holds up a hand. “It’s okay, let her speak.” His eyes bore into yours warily.

You take a breath. “I know this sounds insane. But a baby girl was born here last week to a French student named Celeste Dubois. On the birth certificate, she named you as the father before signing away parental rights.”

You continue explaining the situation rapidly, watching Lando’s eyes widen in shock.

One of his handlers steps in. “You honestly expect us to believe this wild story? We’re on a timeline.” He tries to tug Lando along.

“No, it’s okay.” Lando stands firm, studying you intently. “What proof do you have of any of this?”

You hold his gaze. “I can show you the birth certificate, but a DNA test would confirm if you’re the father. It’s hospital policy to notify and provide the father an opportunity to assume custody.”

Lando chews his lip nervously. His team murmurs among themselves.

After a long pause, he speaks. “Even if this is some scam or mix-up, that poor child deserves to have answers. Please, lead the way for a test.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. Wordlessly, you turn and lead Lando to the lab. His team protests but he insists on following through.

In the lab, you supervise as the technician takes a simple cheek swab. “24 to 48 hours for results,” she confirms.

Lando nods, looking dazed. “Right. Okay. If she’s really mine, I want to step up. Just call me, yeah?” He extends his number on a slip of paper.

You smile and promise to be in touch. As he turns to leave, you feel swarmed with emotions. One major hurdle down, but nothing certain yet.

The next 48 hours pass at a snail’s pace. When the lab calls, your fingers shake as you unfold the results. Positive. A 99.99% match.

You pass along the news and arrange a meeting at the hospital. The press can’t know about this yet.

Approaching the secluded waiting room, you pause to observe Lando through the window. He paces nervously, running his hands through his hair again and again. His usual polished veneer is gone, replaced by a young man anxiously awaiting life-changing news. Your heart goes out to him.

Finally knocking, he whirls around as you enter. “Well? Is she really mine?”

You nod, holding out the results. He accepts them with unsteady hands.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” he says quietly. “This is just ... a lot.”

“I understand. It’s a complicated situation. But you’re here now.” You offer an encouraging smile.

Lando takes a deep breath. “Can I meet her?”

You lead him to the nursery viewing room. He presses against the glass, eyes scanning until they settle on bassinet D7. His brows knit together.

“That’s her?” His voice wavers slightly.

You nod. “Would you like to go inside and hold her?”

He hesitates. “I don’t want to confuse or upset her.”

You gesture reassuringly. “Newborns seek warmth and a gentle touch. She’ll appreciate the contact.”

Looking uncertain, Lando follows you into the nursery. You lift the swaddled baby, carefully transferring her into Lando’s awkward embrace. He peers down at her, his expression unreadable.

“She’s so tiny ...” he murmurs. The newborn girl yawns, eyes still shut, snuggling instinctively into his chest.

Lando’s guarded facade finally cracks, eyes glistening. He adjusts his arms to cradle her more securely.

“Hi there,” he whispers. “I’m your ...” He trails off, not quite able to say it.

You touch his shoulder gently. “You’re her father. And she needs you.”

He nods, never breaking his gaze from the newborn’s face. “I’ll do right by her, I promise. Whatever it takes.”

Relief sweeps over you. While an arduous legal process awaits, this sweet child will finally have a real family.

As Lando rocks the baby gently, he suddenly laughs. “She’s a real beauty, isn’t she? Look at that hair. Thick and curly, just like her old man.”

You chuckle. “It appears so. Have you thought about a name?”

He hums contemplatively. “I’ve always been partial to Georgia. Gigi for short.”

“Georgia Norris,” you say with a smile. “It’s perfect.”

The new father beams down at his daughter. “Welcome to the world, little Gigi. I can’t wait to take you home.”

As you observe this tender moment, your heart swells for both father and daughter. With someone as loving and dedicated as Lando by her side, Gigi’s future looks bright indeed.

Watching them meet for the first time — seeing a family begin to blossom out of hardship and uncertainty — is the greatest reward of your job. As you quietly slip out to give them space, you can’t hold back a smile. Everything, after all, is turning out exactly as it should.

***

After spending over an hour bonding with his newborn daughter in the nursery, Lando reluctantly hands her back to the nurse for feeding time. He turns to you, smiling but still looking dazed.

“I can’t thank you enough, Y/N. Really. You’ve given me and Gigi a new start.”

You touch his arm warmly. “Of course. I’m so glad I could help connect you two. She’s absolutely beautiful.”

Lando grins proudly. “She really is perfect. I already love her so much, it’s mad. I just ...” His face falls slightly. “I don’t have the first clue how to actually take care of a baby. Let alone with my job, traveling all the time for races and training. What have I gotten myself into?”

He runs an anxious hand through his curls. Your heart goes out to him.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You gesture for him to follow you out to the waiting room for privacy.

Lando collapses onto the sofa, head in hands. “Sorry, I’m just now fully realizing what this means. A baby, she’s completely dependent on me! I don’t know the first thing about babies. I’m barely an adult myself!”

You sit beside him. “Lando, look at me.” He lifts his head reluctantly. You offer an encouraging smile.

“It’s normal to feel overwhelmed. But you stepped up when Gigi needed you most. That’s what matters. With some guidance, you’ll be an amazing father.”

He doesn’t look convinced. You continue gently, “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll give you all the essential information for first-time parents. I’ll even set you up with parenting classes, and we have a support group-”

Lando groans loudly, letting his head fall back. You suppress a chuckle.

“Okay, forget classes for now. Just focus on learning the basics. Things like feeding, changing, bathing. Infant CPR. I’ll give you my cell to text with questions anytime. Day or night.”

You jot down your number and hand it to him. He nods, looking slightly encouraged.

“We’ll also get you connected with services that can assist first-time parents with supplies, nutrition consultants, and childcare options.”

His eyes widen again. “God, I haven’t even told my family yet! Or bought anything she’ll need!” He scrubs at his face anxiously.

You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Breathe. Setbacks are expected. But you’ll get there.”

Lando takes a deep breath, regaining some composure. “You’re right. Sorry for the meltdown. I really appreciate you talking me down.”

“Don’t apologize. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t at all anxious about this huge life change.”

You smile warmly. “But you accepted your daughter unconditionally when it mattered most. Not every man in your position would do that. I know you’ll figure the rest out over time. It’s a process.”

He nods, starting to calm down. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We’ll take it step by step.”

You spend the next hour walking Lando through all the basics — safe sleep, feeding schedules, hygiene, developmental milestones, and pediatrician visits. He takes vigorous notes on his phone, determination returning to his face.

“Clothes, blankets, nappies, bottles ...” He mumbles to himself as he types. “Maybe pick up a parenting book or two as well ...”

You grin, happy to see him growing more at ease and optimistic. When the nurse returns with a sleeping Gigi, Lando immediately takes her back into his arms.

“We’ve got this, little one,” he whispers to her. “I’ll give you the absolute best in life … starting with a nice new flat for us here in Monaco.” He looks back at you questioningly.

You nod in approval. “Giving Gigi a stable home should be your top priority.”

He smiles down at the baby, gently stroking her cheek. “Daddy will take good care of you. I promise.”

Your heart swells at the natural bond already forming between father and daughter. In this moment, any lingering doubts fade away. However difficult the road ahead, together they’ll be just fine.

After another hour visiting together, it’s time for Lando to head out. He’s clearly still anxious but also radiating love when he gazes at Gigi.

“Thank you again for everything,” he says sincerely, shaking your hand. “I’ll call my parents when I get home. Figure out how to break the news and beg for their help.”

He chuckles and you join in. “Don’t hesitate to text me anytime. About anything.”

Lando glances down at your scrawled cell number, then back up with a crooked grin. “Careful or I might take you up on the anything part.”

You blush slightly, waving him off. “Get out of here, you charmer. Go buy a crib and get some rest. Your life is about to get very busy.”

With a laugh, Lando walks backwards toward the exit, pointing finger guns at you. “Yes ma’am, Dr. Y/L/N. Catch you later.”

You stand shaking your head as he disappears from view. What an interesting patient case this has turned out to be.

Over the next several weeks, you and Lando text constantly. He sends cute videos and photos of Gigi along with his near-constant questions about her care. You don’t mind at all — you’re happy to guide him through this life transition.

True to his word, he quickly finds and furnishes a family-friendly luxury apartment in Monaco. He introduces Gigi to his stunned but excited parents via video call. He adjusts his training schedule to maximize time with her.

When his race travel resumes, he arranges for his parents or a local nanny to assist with Gigi full-time. Still, being apart takes an obvious toll on him.

The day before he’s set to fly to Australia for the first race of the season, Lando texts you a selfie looking forlorn, with Gigi snoozing on his chest.

Can you believe she’s already a month old? I don’t want to leave her!

You grin down at the photo. Gigi’s little rosebud lips are slightly parted as she sleeps. Lando’s staring at her adoringly despite the bags under his eyes.

I know it’s hard being away from her. But Gigi knows she has a father who loves her so much. Focus on making her proud out there!

You always know just what to say, doc. I’ll text you after the race!

You smile softly as you set down your phone. Over the past weeks, you’ve found yourself looking forward to Lando’s frequent messages and photos. He’s relieved when you reassure him he’s doing a great job as a new dad. And seeing Gigi thrive and grow under his doting care makes your heart fuller.

Professionally, your work is done now that Gigi and Lando are connected. But you can’t help feeling personally invested in this little family you helped create. You make a silent vow to always be there for them both, as long as they need you.

***

Weeks later, you’re jolted awake by your ringing cellphone. Bleary-eyed, you check the time: 2:37 am. Who could be calling at this hour?

You don’t recognize the number on your buzzing phone. But you answer anyway, just in case it’s an emergency.

“Hello?” You mumble into the phone.

“Y/N? Oh thank god!” The panicked voice on the other end makes you sit bolt upright.

Lando.

“Lando? What’s wrong?” Worry floods your system, instantly washing away any grogginess.

“It’s Georgia,” he cries. “She woke up crying and felt so hot. I took her temperature — it’s 39 degrees! I think she has a fever?”

You’re already throwing off your blankets, phone tucked against your shoulder. “Okay, stay calm. How is she acting otherwise?”

“She’s crying and really fussy. Won’t take her bottle. I don’t know what to do!” Lando sounds near tears himself.

“Shhh, deep breath,” you soothe. “Fever in babies this young is serious. You need to take her to emergency department right away.”

“Right, emergency, of course-” Lando rambles nervously.

“I’ll meet you there ASAP. Princess Grace Hospital, yes?”

“Yes, please hurry!” He ends the call abruptly. You scramble for clothes with adrenaline pounding.

In under ten minutes, you’re peeling out of your driveway towards the hospital. Even at this hour, Monaco’s streets remain congested. You drum your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel, praying Georgia will be okay.

Once you’ve parked, you race inside the ED doors. Your eyes scan the crowded waiting room until you spot Lando pacing in the corner, Georgia whimpering against his shoulder.

You rush over. “Lando!”

He turns, relief washing over his features. “Y/N, you came. Thank you.”

“Of course.” You squeeze his arm comfortingly before looking Georgia over with practiced eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, eyelids fluttering as she whines. Definitely not well.

Lando bounces lightly, trying to soothe her. “They told me it’s at least an hour wait. She’s getting worse though.” His eyes glisten with tears.

Your protective instincts flare, seeing them both so distraught. Striding to the check-in desk, you put on your most authoritative voice.

“Excuse me, I’m Dr. Y/L/N. I have an infant patient here who needs immediate evaluation.”

The nurse scans the packed waiting room. “I’m so sorry doctor, we’re doing our best. If you could just wait-”

You interrupt firmly. “This is a seven week old with a spiking fever. She requires urgent triage and treatment, not a waiting room. I must insist we be seen next.”

The nurse purses her lips, but can’t really argue with your reasoning. “Of course. I’ll let the charge nurse know to get you back immediately.”

You nod curtly before returning to Lando, who looks awed. “Blimey, remind me not to get on your bad side.”

The hint of a smile on his lips relieves you. Georgia’s still fussy as you both follow a nurse back moments later.

In an exam room, you help transfer the baby from Lando’s arms to the table. Her pitiful crying tugs at your heart.

Lando hovers anxiously as you take Georgia’s vitals and change her into a hospital gown. 39.1°C — higher than the concerning range for an infant. You frown in worry. Poor little love.

Soon the attending pediatrician arrives to assess her. You explain the situation from Lando’s frantic call to racing over. The doctor asks questions while examining Georgia’s ears, throat, and reflexes. Lando clutches your hand tightly the entire time.

After what feels like an eternity, the pediatrician steps back. “Given the fever with no apparent source, I’m concerned this could be a serious bacterial infection. We’ll run labs to check for things like meningitis. Start IV antibiotics and paracetamol to bring her fever down quickly.”

Lando pales, swaying slightly at the onslaught of medical terms. You slip an arm around him supportively.

“You’re saying she might have meningitis?” Lando chokes out.

The doctor holds up his hands. “It’s just one possibility. We’re not sure yet. The labs will tell us more.”

Lando buries his face in his hands. Your heart breaks seeing his shoulders shaking.

After the doctor departs to order tests, you guide Lando to sit down, keeping an arm around him. “Hey, try to breathe. Georgia needs her daddy calm and strong right now.”

Lando drags a hand over his wet eyes. “God, I’m trying. But she’s so little and sick. What if … what if it’s something serious?” His voice breaks again.

You turn him gently to face you, hands on his shoulders. “Listen to me. Whatever is going on, we will figure it out, okay? I’m right here with you both.”

He searches your face before nodding unsteadily. You draw him into a fierce hug.

“We’ve got this,” you whisper.

A nurse entering startles you apart. “Alright, time for labs.”

You both watch anxiously as she collects blood and other samples from a deeply unhappy Georgia. Her shrieking cries at the poking and prodding are harrowing. Lando has gone deathly pale.

Once finished, the nurse situates an IV line in Georgia’s tiny hand, securing it with tape and popping a pacifier in her mouth. Her eyelids droop, cries fading to soft whimpers as medication starts flowing.

You glance at Lando. “Why don’t you hold her again? Skin to skin contact will help soothe you both.”

Looking relieved by the suggestion, Lando strips off his shirt and takes Georgia, nestling her against his bare chest. You drape a blanket over them before rubbing his back comfortingly.

Georgia’s fussing settles as her father hums softly, eyes never leaving her face. The pure love between them makes your throat tighten.

Despite the uncertainty ahead, you know Georgia couldn’t be in better hands. And you silently vow to remain steadfast by their side, for whatever comes next.

Eventually Georgia drifts to sleep. The pediatrician returns shortly after with test results. “Good news. All the cultures are negative so far. With the antibiotics and paracetamol, her fever is already decreasing.”

You and Lando both sigh in relief.

“So no meningitis?” Lando asks hopefully.

The doctor shakes his head. “Doesn’t appear to be. We’ll repeat testing tomorrow, but likely just a minor bacterial infection. She’ll need to stay a few days for monitoring and fluids.”

Lando clutches Georgia closer. “Anything she needs. Thank you, doctor.”

Once you’re alone again, Lando gazes down at his sleeping daughter. “I was so scared,” he admits softly.

You nod, squeezing his shoulder. “I know. But she’s getting great care now. Try and rest — it’s been a long night.”

Lando glances at the empty cot along the wall. “Stay? Please? I … I don’t want to be alone right now.” His voice sounds so small and vulnerable.

Your chest tightens. “Of course.”

You help shift Lando and Georgia onto the little bed. She stirs slightly as you both get settled on either side of her.

Lando strokes Georgia’s cheek tenderly. “My brave girl. You’re going to be just fine.” Glancing up, his eyes meet yours. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything.”

You offer a tired smile, taking his hand. “That’s what I’m here for. Get some sleep.”

Exhaustion quickly pulls you under. But Lando’s hand remains wrapped firmly in yours until morning.

A strong bond has formed between the three of you. And you know that whatever the future brings, you’ll be facing it together.

***

A few weeks after the scare, you’re finishing paperwork at your desk when your cell rings. Lando’s name pops up, making you smile.

Since the hospitalization, you and Lando have fallen into a routine of near daily calls and texts about Georgia. You don’t mind at all — you adore hearing the latest antics and milestones of your special little patient. Not to mention Lando’s voice tends to brighten your day.

You answer warmly. “Lando! How are my favorite patients today?”

He chuckles. “Well, Georgia just mastered holding her head up while on her tummy. She’s getting so strong! But uh, that’s actually why I’m calling ...”

You detect the hesitancy in his tone. “What’s up?”

Lando sighs. “So McLaren just sprung a mandatory sponsorship meeting on me last minute. It’s in like an hour. I don’t have any childcare lined up though.”

You frown sympathetically. The demands of Lando’s career often collide with new parenthood. “Oh no. Can you reschedule or bring Georgia with you?”

“I tried, but it’s impossible to postpone. And definitely not an ideal environment for a baby,” he laments. “I don’t have any family nearby and my usual nanny said it’s too short notice.”

Your thoughts race, heart sinking at imagining his distress. “Hmm. Well, do you happen to have any trusted neighbors or friends there who could babysit?”

Lando makes a frustrated noise. “I’ve barely met my neighbors. And my mates, well, most are even less qualified than me for childcare. I’m stuck.” Defeat colors his tone.

You bite your lip, hesitating only a moment before saying gently, “Lando, I could come watch her.”

“What? Really?” He sounds stunned. “But isn’t it your day off?”

“It’s no problem, truly,” you insist. “I don’t live far. Be there in fifteen?”

“I-I don’t know what to say. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. Thank you, thank you!” Lando gushes gratefully.

You smile, already grabbing your keys. “Anytime. See you soon!”

On the drive over, butterflies flutter in your stomach. You adore Georgia, of course. But something about visiting Lando’s home, being fully immersed in his world, feels monumentally intimate.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that your priority is helping a friend in need.

You park outside Lando’s sleek modern condo building and take the elevator up after checking in with the concierge. Before you can even knock, the front door swings open.

“Y/N, thank god,” Lando sighs in relief. He looks unfairly attractive despite being slightly disheveled in a dress shirt and slacks. “Please, come in.”

Stepping inside the open concept condo, your eyes sweep over minimalist furniture and racing memorabilia decorating the shelves. Cozy baby items like a playmat and bouncer provide stark contrast. It’s uniquely Lando.

“Nice place,” you remark sincerely.

“Thanks. Still feels empty sometimes, but slowly making it a home for Gigi.” He smiles softly. “Speaking of which ...”

You follow Lando down a short hallway to the nursery. Your heart melts at the sight of Georgia kicking on a playmat, wearing a pink romper with a giant bow.

Lando swoops her up, blowing raspberries on her cheek. “Daddy’s got a big important meeting, princess. But Y/N is going to play with you instead.”

He passes the baby over. Georgia gives you a gummy smile, cooing.

“There’s my sweet girl.” You tickle her belly, eliciting a giggle. Lando beams proudly.

“Alright, her bottle is prepped in the fridge, and there’s clean nappies on the change table. Call if you need anything at all.”

Lando leans down to kiss Georgia’s head. “Be good for Y/N, monkey.”

With a final grateful smile your way, he heads out. You settle on the nursery floor with Georgia. “What adventures shall we have today, miss?”

The next few hours pass in a blur of playing, feeding, changing, and rocking little Georgia. You even manage a nap time by singing softly, something that always seemed to soothe her in the hospital.

Watching her sleep, you feel a rush of tenderness for the tiny being who has depended on you since her first moments. You vow to always be there when Lando and Georgia need you.

Soon enough, Lando returns home looking drained. But his whole face lights up seeing you and Georgia on the floor.

“How’d it go?” He asks, crouching down to tickle her toes.

“Perfect. We had lots of fun, isn’t that right, lovebug?” You hand the baby over for cuddles.

“Daddy missed you.” Lando nuzzles Georgia, before giving you a grateful smile. “I can’t thank you enough. Truly. You’re a natural with her.”

You wave off his praise, but can’t deny the warm spark his words ignite.

After chatting a bit more about Georgia’s afternoon and Lando’s meeting, it’s time for you to head out.

At the door, Lando halts you with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hey, let me take you to dinner this week — a proper thank you,” he entreats. “Anywhere you like.”

Your pulse quickens. It sounds suspiciously close to a date. But Lando’s smiling hopefully, and you find yourself nodding before overthinking it.

“I’d love that.”

Lando grins, looking both relieved and excited. “Brilliant! I’ll text you details. Have a safe drive home.”

Strapping into your car, your thoughts race wildly. This man and his daughter have captured your heart. What started as a professional duty has grown into so much more.

As you drive away, Lando and Georgia waving from the window, you can’t keep the giddy smile off your face.

Your lives are intertwining in the most marvelous ways. And you can’t wait to see what adventures are in store next.

***

The following Saturday evening, you stand in front of the mirror, fussing with your hair and makeup. Glancing at the clock, you feel butterflies swarming. Lando will arrive any minute to pick you up for dinner.

You smooth non-existent wrinkles from your knee-length black dress. It’s daringly low cut for you, but you want to feel beautiful tonight.

A buzz from your phone makes you jolt. Lando is here! Taking a deep breath, you grab your purse and hurry downstairs.

Stepping outside your apartment building, you freeze in awe. Gleaming in the golden hour sunlight is a sleek dark blue vintage supercar unlike any other you’ve seen before.

The driver door opens, and Lando steps out looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit. He beams. “Wow, Y/N. You look absolutely stunning.”

You blush at the sincerity in his warm gaze. “Thank you. This is … quite the car!”

Lando grins, patting the hood affectionately. “She’s my baby — a Lamborghini Miura. Isn’t she a beauty?”

You take in the aerodynamic lines and what you can only assume is a very powerful engine. “Gorgeous. And probably costs more than my yearly income.”

Lando laughs. “But she’s perfect for impressing a lovely date.” He winks before opening the passenger door for you.

You carefully climb in, hyper aware of the tiny black dress riding up your thighs. Lando’s eyes trace your legs appreciatively as you smooth your skirt.

Soon you’re zipping through the seaside city, wind whipping your hair through the open windows. Lando navigates the roads expertly.

He glances your way. “Hope this is alright! Wanted to take the fun car out while the weather holds up.”

You grin at him. “Are you kidding? I feel like a movie star!”

He looks delighted, picking up speed as you both relax into the ride.

Before long, you pull up at the legendary Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo. A uniformed valet opens your door. Taking the proffered hand, you step out feeling like a princess.

Lando offers his arm. “Shall we?”

Inside the opulent restaurant, you’re quickly shown to an intimate table beside a window overlooking the glittering Mediterranean sea. Soft piano music fills the space.

“Lando, this is incredible,” you breathe, taking it all in.

He smiles, eyes never leaving your face. “Only the best for you.”

You blush again at his sincerity. A waiter appears to take your drink order. When you request just water, Lando insists you pick any wine on the menu.

You settle on a creamy chardonnay that pairs perfectly with your scallops and Lando’s steak. Thoughtful touches like him pulling out your chair or refilling your wine glass make the lavish meal all the more special.

The conversation flows effortlessly from racing to traveling to favourite films and music. More than once, Lando’s foot brushes yours beneath the table, sending sparks skittering across your skin.

After dessert, you both linger over coffee, hands unconsciously joined on the pristine tablecloth between you. The connection humming between you feels profound.

When Lando finally checks his watch with a reluctant sigh, you’re surprised to see you’ve been there for over three hours. It felt like mere minutes.

On the drive back, you steal glances at his sharp profile in the fading light. Joy bubbles inside you. The evening exceeded your wildest expectations.

Too soon, you’re pulling up outside your building. Lando hurries around to open your door, ever the gentleman. Clasping his hand, you step out onto the curb together.

Turning, you find him watching you closely. “I had the most wonderful time tonight,” you say sincerely.

Lando’s face breaks into a grin. “Truly magical. Thank you for coming, Y/N.” He squeezes your hand, thumb tracing delicate circles.

On impulse, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Lando.”

With a final squeeze of his hand, you turn and walk inside, casting a coy look back to see him touching his cheek in wonder.

Safely in your apartment, you kick off your heels, collapsing onto the sofa with a giddy smile. The evening played in your mind like a movie — the fancy car, exquisite dinner, effortless conversation. And that powerful connection with Lando blossoming into something new and tender.

What started as a professional relationship has organically grown into a deep friendship over your shared love of little Georgia. But tonight awoke a yearning for more. You sensed the same from Lando in the way he looked at you — with affection, wonder, and desire.

You drift off on the couch still reliving each vivid moment. This feels like the start of something life changing.

Meanwhile, Lando remains fixed outside your building, fingers brushing the spot your lips graced. The soft press seared an imprint deep within him.

People had warned him pursuing anything romantic with Georgia’s physician was unwise. But from the instant he saw you holding his fragile newborn girl, instinct told him you were special. That only grew each day as your compassion and devotion soothed his frightened heart.

Tonight confirmed what he felt blooming for weeks now — he’s completely enchanted by you.

With your laughter still echoing in his mind, Lando finally drives off into the night. He knows his future, wherever it leads, must have you and Georgia in it. He’s falling, fast and hard.

And for once, recklessly chasing his heart feels entirely right. He just hopes you’ll take this leap with him.

***

On a sunny afternoon, you’re sitting cross-legged on Lando’s living room rug playing with Georgia. At nearly four months old now, she’s mastered rolling over and absolutely loves tummy time.

You grin as she determinedly pushes up on her hands, rocking back and forth. “That’s it, clever girl! You’ve almost got it.”

Georgia gives you a gummy smile before toppling over with a huff. Behind you, Lando chuckles from the couch where he’s on hold with a takeaway place.

“I swear she gets more stubborn every day. Definitely takes after me,” he remarks fondly.

You smile. “She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to work for it. Sound familiar?”

Lando laughs. “Too right. At this rate, she’ll be racing cars herself soon.”

You’re about to respond when the sound of the front door opening makes you both freeze. Before you can react, an accented female voice calls out excitedly.

“Lando, darling! Surprise, we’ve come to visit!”

Lando flies off the couch just as his parents round the corner. “Mum! Dad! What are you doing here?”

He embraces them both tightly while you hover awkwardly behind Georgia. What must Lando’s family think finding a strange woman playing with their grandchild?

But before you can open your mouth to explain, Lando’s mum spots you. Her face lights up. “Y/N! How wonderful to finally meet you in person!”

To your shock, she swoops down and hugs you like a long lost relative. Bewildered, you return the embrace.

Over her shoulder, Lando rubs his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I may have told them a fair bit about you and Gigi ...”

His father approaches next, politely shaking your hand. “Lando speaks very highly of you, Y/N. Thank you for taking such good care of our boy and the little one.”

“Oh, um, of course!” You manage to stammer out. Lando mentioned you to his parents? The thought makes your heart flutter wildly.

Before you can dwell on it, Georgia lets out an impatient shriek from her abandoned tummy time.

Cisca gasps, immediately scooping her up. “Oh my goodness, look how big you’ve gotten, baby girl!” She tickles Georgia’s belly, eliciting sweet giggles.

Lando smiles softly at the sight. You feel privileged to witness this intimate family moment.

Soon you’re all seated around the living room, chatting comfortably. Adam keeps throwing not-so-subtle winks Lando’s way whenever you and Cisca fawn over Georgia together. Lando just shakes his head, cheeks slightly flushed.

Later, his parents insist on taking you both out to dinner at a nice restaurant. Over the meal, you observe how Cisca’s animated mannerisms and Adam’s dry wit remind you so much of Lando. He clearly inherited the best of both.

Walking back to the car afterwards, Cisca links her arm through yours fondly. “I’m just thrilled Lando has you looking after him and little Georgia. It takes a very special woman to so selflessly love and support someone else’s child.”

You squeeze her arm, touched. “Well, they make it easy. I’d do anything for those two.”

Cisca pats your hand knowingly. “I can see that, dear. Don’t ever let my son take that for granted.”

Glancing ahead, you watch Lando swinging a sleepy Georgia in his arms, gazing down at her with pure adoration. Your heart clenches.

“I don’t think that’s possible. He’s the most devoted father imaginable,” you reply softly.

Cisca follows your gaze, smiling. “He is at that. Just like his own.”

Adam wraps an arm around his wife, kissing her temple. Cisca leans into him with a contented sigh. Their easy intimacy and abiding love is relationship goals.

You find yourself sneaking another peek at Lando, imagining strolling arm in arm like that one day. But it’s too soon for such daydreams.

Still, meeting his wonderful parents today, seeing how he talks about you … it feels like things are shifting into place.

That night, as Lando walks you to your car, he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Thank you again for today. You were brilliant with my parents — they’re absolutely smitten.”

You grin. “They’re lovely. I see where you get it from.”

Lando rolls his eyes but smiles bashfully. An impulse has you leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Goodnight, Lando.” With a little wave, you slip into your car before he can respond.

But the awestruck look on Lando’s face stays with you the whole drive home. Something big is on the horizon, you can feel it.

And if the way his family embraced you today is any indication, you have their full support too. You’ve never been more excited about what the future holds.

***

A few days later, you’re rushing around your apartment getting ready. Lando invited you over for dinner and a movie tonight while his parents watch Georgia. You’ve been looking forward to the rare child-free evening all week.

After debating outfit options, you decide on form fitting jeans and a silky camisole. Casual yet flirty. Dabbing on a bit of perfume, you check yourself in the mirror. You want to knock his socks off.

Precisely at six, your phone chimes with a text from Lando that he’s waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, you go meet him.

As expected, he looks effortlessly handsome leaning against his flashy car grinning at you. “Well don’t you look gorgeous tonight,” he remarks, opening your door.

You smirk, settling into the low seat. “Not looking too bad yourself, Mr. Norris.”

Lando just winks before speeding off into the golden hour sunlight. You chat easily throughout the short drive about your days apart. When you mention missing Georgia, Lando smiles softly.

“Me too, constantly. But she’s in great hands with my parents tonight.” Reaching over, he gives your hand an affectionate squeeze that makes your heart race.

Soon you pull up outside Lando’s sleek condo building. He leads you upstairs, fingers entwined.

Inside, mouthwatering aromas fill the air. You follow Lando to the kitchen where pots bubble away on the stove.

“I hope you’re hungry. My dad’s recipe for chicken curry.” Lando stirs one of the pots before glancing at you shyly. “I may have been practicing all week.”

You grin, touched that he went to such effort. “It smells incredible! I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Full of surprises.” Lando winks. “Now you just relax while I finish up.”

You perch at the kitchen island while Lando works. The domesticity of it all makes your chest feel warm. You could definitely get used to this.

Soon dinner is served along with a crisp white wine. You compliment Lando between bites, making him preen. Everything is delicious.

Over dessert, your feet become entangled beneath the small table. The simmering looks passing between you leave no doubt this is a date.

With dishes cleared, Lando leads you to the living room. “Now, the entertainment portion of the evening.” He gestures grandly towards the large TV.

You settle onto the plush grey sectional while Lando queues up your chosen rom-com. Before pressing play, he pauses.

“Do you maybe want to get more comfortable?” He gestures to the blanket and abundance of throw pillows nearby.

You smile, touched at how he’s trying to create a cozy movie watching environment. “That sounds perfect.”

Working together, you both strip down to t-shirts and lounge pants, then arrange the pillows and blankets into a comfy nest. Your heart races at the intimacy of it all.

Lando opens his arms for you to curl against his chest. You sigh, breathing in his comforting scent. His steady heartbeat thrums beneath your ear as the movie starts.

About halfway through, you glance up to see Lando staring down at you tenderly, movie forgotten. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, fingers trailing down to tilt your chin up. Eyes fluttering shut, you lean in as his lips meet yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

Everything around you fades away. The only sensation is Lando’s gentle lips moving with yours, laced with warmth and affection.

When you finally break apart, faces lingering close, he exhales shakily. “Wow. That was ...”

“Perfect,” you whisper, caressing his stubbled cheek. Lando nuzzles into your touch.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he admits with a crooked smile.

You grin. “What took you so long?”

Lando laughs, pulling you closer again. Your lips find their way back together naturally. With your legs entwined and his hand trailing up and down your back, you lose all track of time and space.

Eventually you pull back just to catch your breath, lips pleasantly swollen. Lando strokes your hair tenderly.

“Y/N, you must know by now how truly special you are to me. From the moment we met, I felt fate bringing us together. And I never want to let you go.” His eyes search yours intently.

Your pulse quickens. “Lando ...”

“What I’m trying to say is ...” He takes a deep breath. “Will you be my girlfriend? Officially?”

Joy erupts inside you as you throw your arms around his neck. “Yes, I’d love nothing more!”

Lando’s delighted laughter vibrates against you as he squeezes you tight. You stay locked in an embrace, trading giddy kisses until sleepiness inevitably sets in.

Lando carries you to bed, tucking you both under the covers with your head pillowed on his chest. You drift off smiling, his steady heartbeat your lullaby.

Waking wrapped in Lando’s arms the next morning feels like pure bliss. He stirs, blinking awake to see you watching him fondly.

“Morning, beautiful.” Lando caresses your cheek before capturing your lips in a tender good morning kiss.

You hum contentedly. “I could get very used to this.”

“Well luckily, you’re my girlfriend now. So you’re stuck with me.” He grins playfully.

You snuggle impossibly closer. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

***

On a sunny spring morning, you’re in Lando’s kitchen pureeing some bananas for Georgia’s breakfast. At nearly one year old now, she’s mastered eating soft finger foods.

Lando wanders in with Georgia propped on his hip, her dark curls tied up in adorable pigtails. “Someone’s ready for her breakfast!”

You grin, smoothing Georgia’s hair back to kiss her chubby cheek. “Morning, my darling! Got your bananas all ready.”

Lando settles Georgia into her high chair, handing you her baby spoon shaped like a rabbit. “Not sure who’s more excited about mealtimes now, her or me,” he jokes.

You laugh. “Gotta get our girl fed so she has energy to get into everything!”

Georgia bangs her hands impatiently on the tray until you scoop up a spoonful of bananas. “Alright, here comes the Formula 1 car!”

You zoom the spoon around playfully before popping it in her mouth. Georgia squeals in delight, kicking her little feet.

Lando leans against the counter smiling as you continue taking turns feeding her. When the last bites are finished, he grabs a washcloth to wipe Georgia’s sticky face and hands.

“Who’s my big girl eating like such a pro?” He coos, tickling her belly. Georgia dissolves into adorable giggles.

Setting the washcloth down, Lando brushes a stray banana strand from her hair. “You’re the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the whole world. Yes you are!”

Georgia beams up at him, waving her hands excitedly. Then clear as day, she exclaims “Mama!”

You freeze in shock. Did she just ...

Lando’s eyes fly to yours, equally stunned. An awkward tension instantly permeates the room.

“I-I never encouraged that, I swear,” Lando rushes to explain, panicked. “I always call you by name when I talk about you to her.”

“No no, of course, I didn’t think-” You halt, flustered. “I would never try to make her call me ...” You can’t even say it, heart pounding wildly.

A heavy silence falls. You avert your eyes, anxiously twisting the washcloth between your hands.

Lando scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why she ...” He trails off helplessly.

After a long pause, Lando touches your arm gently. “Hey, look at me?”

You reluctantly meet his earnest gaze. Lando takes your hands in his, tone serious.

“Y/N, you must know how much I respect your role in Georgia’s life. We’re partners in this, fully. I would never try to force a maternal label on you.”

His obvious sincerity makes you instantly relax. Offering a small smile, you squeeze his hands.

“Of course. I didn’t think that. It just took me by surprise is all.” You take a deep breath before continuing hesitantly.

“But, well … the idea of Georgia seeing me that way doesn’t scare me. Not if it happens naturally.” You chance a glance at Lando through your lashes.

His eyes soften. “Truly?” At your shy nod, a smile spreads across his face.

“Because, well, I was thinking the same.” Lando cradles your face between his palms. “You already are a mum to her in every way that matters.”

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Joy and relief flood your system.

Georgia makes an impatient noise, breaking the tender spell. You both chuckle.

Lando lifts her from the chair into his arms. “Don’t worry princess, your mama isn’t going anywhere.”

Hearing those words from Lando sends your heart soaring. You join the cuddle, Georgia nestled happily between you.

“Our sweet girl,” Lando murmurs, meeting your gaze over her little head. The pure love reflected back at you erases any lingering doubts.

You place a soft kiss to Georgia’s curls, then lean up to capture Lando’s lips. The promise of your future together never felt stronger.

Many more milestones await, for Georgia and your relationship both. But you know without question that the bonds between you three will only continue growing deeper.

Of all the twists and turns on this journey, your little family is the sweetest gift of all.

***

The day of the Monaco Grand Prix dawns bright and clear. You finish braiding Georgia’s hair as she babbles happily. At 18 months old now, her vocabulary expands daily.

“There we go, pretty girl! All set to cheer on Daddy!”

Georgia grins. “Dada race!”

You smile, smoothing her dress. “That’s right, darling!”

A knock sounds right before Lando pokes his head into the nursery. “My two favorite girls about ready?”

Scooping up Georgia, you turn so he can admire her race day outfit. “Well don’t we look beautiful!” Lando tickles Georgia’s tummy before pulling you both into a hug.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to have you both here today,” he says softly.

You squeeze him tight. As a pediatrician, getting full weekends off for races proved nearly impossible. But for Monaco, you moved mountains.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you assure him. Lando’s responding smile warms your heart.

The energy at the track is electric. Georgia’s eyes widen taking in all the sights and sounds. You carry her through the paddock towards the McLaren garage, Lando greeting various people along the way.

Inside, Lando steals a quick kiss. “I better go get suited up. See you after?”

You nod, adjusting a squirmy Georgia on your hip. “We’ll be cheering the loudest!”

Lando changes into his race suit, then leads you both over to his car. Georgia is mesmerized, reaching a tiny hand towards the shiny machine.

“That’s right munchkin, this is what Daddy drives!” Lando points out key features, then grabs a helmet from a crew member.

“Want to try it on?” Not waiting for an answer, Lando gently fits the helmet over Georgia’s curls. She immediately shrieks in delight.

Laughing, Lando scoops her up, zooming her around like she’s driving. “Look at you, a future champion in the making!”

You snap some photos of the adorable scene until it’s time for Lando to go off with his performance coach. After one last kiss for both of you, he disappears into the controlled pre-race chaos.

An assistant escorts you to the McLaren hospitality suite overlooking the pit lane. The view of the gleaming harbor and yachts reminds you this race is unlike anywhere else.

As start time nears, you cuddle a restless Georgia close, pointing out Lando’s car lined up on the grid. “See? There’s Daddy! He’s about to go racing.” Her little brow furrows, not quite understanding.

When the lights go out, Georgia startles at the loud roar of engines. Rubbing her back soothingly, you keep your eyes glued to the screen as the cars hurtle towards the tight first corner bottleneck.

“Come on Lando,” you murmur under your breath. He emerges from the chaos in 4th position. Off to a promising start.

Over the next 90 minutes, you fluctuate between pure elation and anxiety as the race unfolds. A collision forces Lando to pit unexpectedly. Just as your heart rate settles, another car spins right in front of him, spraying debris across the track.

But Lando holds his nerve, keeping the car under control to cross the line in P3. You leap up, cheering loudly with Georgia.

Soon Lando emerges, hair damp from the obligatory champagne shower.

His race suit is unzipped to the waist as he sweeps you both into an exuberant hug. “You did so good,” you murmur into his neck. Pulling back, Lando caresses Georgia’s head where it rests heavily on your shoulder.

“Little one tuckered herself out cheering for Daddy, hmm?” He takes her gently as she nuzzles into his chest with a yawn.

“Let’s get my best girls home.” With Georgia cradled in one arm and the other around your waist, Lando leads you out of the paddock like a proud family man. Your heart feels fit to burst.

That night after Georgia is tucked into bed, you curl up together on the couch. The TV plays highlights of the race you lived firsthand.

Lando absently strokes your hair. “You know, the lads invited me out to celebrate tonight.”

You lift your head. “Oh really? You should go have fun!”

But Lando just smiles, pulling you closer. “And miss this? Not a chance.” He kisses you tenderly. “Partying in Monaco holds nothing on being with my two favorite people.”

You kiss him again, touched. However far Lando’s career takes him, you know his heart will remain right here with you and Georgia.

***

Summer finally arrives, bringing a short respite between races for Lando. Eager to make the most of it, you suggest visiting your hometown to introduce him and Georgia to your parents.

“They’d love to finally meet you both,” you say over breakfast one morning.

Lando smiles, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “That sounds brilliant, love. I can’t wait to see where you grew up.”

You grin excitedly. “It’s nothing glamorous like Monaco. But I have so many good memories there.”

With plans made, you set off early one sunny Saturday morning, boarding a flight with Georgia securely buckled into her carrier. She babbles happily for most of the flight, enchanted by the clouds and miniature landscape passing below. Lando keeps one hand firmly clasped in yours the entire time.

Late afternoon, you finally pull up outside the cozy house you grew up in. Taking a deep breath, you unbuckle a sleepy Georgia from her seat.

“We’re here, Gigi! Ready to meet Grandma and Grandpa?”

She rubs her eyes with a tiny fist, still drowsy. Lando comes around to lift her into his arms.

“Someone’s a bit tired from all the traveling, huh? Maybe a quick nap first?” He kisses Georgia’s fuzzy head as she snuggles into his shoulder.

You nod, smoothing down her rumpled sundress. Taking Lando’s free hand, you head up the front walk.

Before you can even knock, the front door swings open. Your mum stands beaming at the threshold.

“Y/N! Oh, let me see her!” She sweeps you into a tight hug before immediately cooing over a now awake Georgia. “What an absolute darling!”

You grin. “Mom, meet your granddaughter, Georgia.” Saying it out loud sends a little thrill through you.

Your mother gently strokes Georgia’s dark curls. “Look at all this beautiful hair! Those eyes are all her daddy though.” She smiles warmly at Lando.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Lando says politely, shaking her extended hand.

“Oh please, call me Y/M/N! Now come in, come in!” She ushers you both inside the familiar cozy house.

Your dad appears from his office to exchange hearty handshakes and hugs. Lando looks slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiastic welcome.

Sensing this, you squeeze his arm reassuringly. “Why don’t I put Georgia down for her nap? You guys chat.”

Lando shoots you a grateful smile. You disappear down the hall to your childhood bedroom, now converted to a cozy nursery space. Georgia is out like a light before you’ve even finished tucking her in.

Returning to the living room, you pause in the doorway, heart swelling at the scene. Lando sits between your parents on the sofa as they animatedly show him your baby photos. His eyes shine taking it all in. This is the sense of family he’s long craved.

Eventually Georgia wakes, cranky and clingy. You scoop her up, breathing in that sweet baby scent as you rub her back.

“I know, lots of new things happening today. But you’re being so brave.” Dropping a kiss to her curls, you return to the living room.

Your mother immediately reaches for Georgia, who goes willingly into her arms. “Come sit with Grandma, sweetheart.”

Settling on the couch between your parents again, Lando slips an arm around your shoulders. Georgia babbles happily from your mother’s lap.

The rest of the day passes comfortably as your parents dote on their new granddaughter. Watching your mom help Georgia toddle around the yard, your dad pushing her on the tree swing, Lando’s arm stays wrapped securely around you.

That night after Georgia is down, you find Lando out on the back porch gazing up at the stars. You join him on the steps, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“You okay?”

Lando looks down at you with a soft smile. “More than. Today was really special.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Seeing how your parents just immediately welcomed us into the family … it means everything. I never expected to find this.” His voice turns thick with emotion.

You lift your head to meet his sincere gaze, heart brimming over. No words needed, you convey it all in a tender kiss.

When you eventually pull apart, foreheads touching, Lando exhales shakily. “Being here with you and Gigi, it just feels so right. Like we were always meant to be a family.”

Joyful tears prick your eyes hearing him voice the same feeling living inside you. You cradle his face gently.

“We were, Lando. From that very first day in the hospital, I knew fate brought us together for a reason.”

Lando’s responding smile could outshine the moon and stars overhead. He kisses you again, soft and unhurried, arms encircling you on that familiar back porch.

***

Two years to the day after that fateful first meeting, you’re finishing rounds in the maternity ward when your supervisor requests you in her office. Brow furrowed, you make your way down the hall and knock lightly.

“Come in!”

You step inside to find her beaming behind her desk. “Y/N! Please, have a seat.”

Perplexed, you settle into the plush chair across from her. “Is everything okay?”

“Better than okay, I’d say.” She grins and slides an official document across the desk towards you. “Take a look at this.”

You scan the letter, eyes widening. It’s a notice of a 250,000 euro donation to the hospital’s maternity ward and nursery … made in your name.

“What? This must be a mistake, I didn’t ...” You trail off, completely baffled.

Your supervisor laughs. “Oh it’s quite real, I assure you. In fact, the donor himself insisted on being here today to celebrate.”

Before you can respond, a knock sounds. You turn to see Lando stroll in, right on cue, with a grinning Georgia perched on his hip.

“Lando!” You gasp. “Did you … is this from you?”

He smiles almost shyly, setting Georgia down so she can toddle over to you. “Wanted to do something meaningful to mark the anniversary of when we first met.”

You stand frozen in shock as Georgia crashes into your legs. Scooping her up, you turn back to Lando with tears in your eyes.

“This is too much, I … I don’t know what to say.” You glance between him and your equally emotional supervisor.

Lando moves closer, taking your hands in his. “Say you’ll come with me for a proper celebration? Just the three of us?” He brushes his thumbs over your knuckles, eyes twinkling.

Unable to form words, you simply nod. Lando’s face lights up with that smile that still makes your heart skip.

After signing some paperwork and hugging your supervisor profusely, you allow Lando to lead you out to the car, Georgia babbling happily between you. But instead of heading home, he drives to the glittering harbor front.

There, you gasp to see a magnificent yacht floating ready at the dock. A crew in crisp white uniforms wait nearby.

Lando grins at your stunned reaction. “Told you we’re celebrating in style today!”

The staff smiles warmly as you board, cooing over Georgia toddling around excitedly. She especially loves watching the foam trail behind the yacht as it pulls away from shore.

You stand wrapped in Lando’s arms, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I still can’t believe you did all this,” you murmur.

Lando presses a kiss to your temple. “You deserve it all and more, my love.”

You pass a blissful afternoon on the water, enjoying a gourmet lunch and each other’s company. Lando is attentive as ever, making sure you want for nothing.

As the sun dips low, a crew member approaches. “So sorry to interrupt, but we’ll be arriving shortly. Please follow me downstairs to prepare.”

You glance questioningly at Lando, but he just smiles and urges you to follow with Georgia. Down in your luxurious cabin, an elegant evening gown awaits on the bed alongside a tiny version for Georgia.

Your heart flutters wildly now. Lando is clearly planning something major. You help Georgia into her dress, your hands shaking slightly with anticipation.

A knock at the door announces the crew member has returned. “We’ve arrived back at port, whenever you’re ready.”

Back up top, Lando stands waiting in a sharp suit, holding a bouquet of roses. He looks devastatingly handsome.

Taking your hand, he leads you down the gangplank onto the dock where a car waits to whisk you away into the hills overlooking the sea. The sunset bathes everything in golden light.

When the car stops at a secluded lookout point, Lando helps you out then retrieves a sleepy Georgia. Hand in hand, you approach the cliff edge.

Down below, a massive light display flashes to life along the shoreline. You gasp as the glowing words become clear:

Y/N, will you marry me?

You clap a hand over your mouth, spinning to Lando with tears pooling in your eyes. He’s down on one knee, Georgia sitting next to him playing with flower petals.

“Two years ago, you came into our lives and changed everything,” Lando begins emotionally. “Your compassion and selflessness as a doctor saved my fragile new family.”

He takes a shaky breath. “But you gave me so much more than that. Your kindness, your beauty inside and out, your incredible love for me and Georgia … you’re my dream come true.”

Tears spill freely down your cheeks as Lando pulls out a glittering diamond ring. “So Y/N Y/L/N, nothing would make me happier than for you to officially become my family. Will you marry me?”

A joyful sob escapes you as you sink down, throwing your arms around him. “Yes, Lando, a million times yes!”

His relieved laughter vibrates against you. When you pull back, Lando takes your hand gently to slide the exquisite ring onto your finger. A perfect fit.

Georgia seems to sense the significance of the moment and toddles over to wrap her little arms around your legs. You lift her into a fierce hug between you.

“I love you both so very much,” you whisper emotionally. Lando’s responding smile outshines the luminous lights along the shore.

Cradling your faces in his hands, he seals his proposal with the sweetest kiss as the sunset fades to twilight.

You linger wrapped in Lando’s arms, Georgia nestled between you, as the first stars emerge overhead. Right here, surrounded by your little family, you’ve never felt happier or more at peace.

It’s extraordinary what two short years can bring — unexpected joy, profound purpose, and a love greater than you dared dream.

The brightest days are still ahead. But tonight, in this perfect moment, you know you’ve already found everything you’ll ever need.

***

The day of your wedding to Lando dawns bright and sunny — perfect weather for an outdoor ceremony overlooking the glittering Mediterranean sea.

Inside the bridal suite, your mother puts the final pins in your elegant updo while your bridesmaids fuss over the train of your lace gown.

A knock at the door announces your father’s arrival. When you turn to face him in your wedding finery, his eyes well up.

“Oh sweetheart … you look absolutely beautiful.”

You immediately tear up too, embracing him tightly. “Don’t make me ruin my makeup before I’ve even walked down the aisle!”

He laughs wetly, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Couldn’t help it! My girl is all grown up.”

Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognize yourself in the exquisite dress and pinned-back curls. But the overwhelmed bride staring back has the same little girl dreams you harbored all those years ago. Dreams that are finally coming true today.

Another quick knock precedes Georgia toddling in, chubby legs pumping. Your flower girl is absolutely angelic in her silky dress.

“Mama, pwetty!” She declares, rushing over for cuddles. You scoop her up, breathing in that sweet baby scent you adore.

“You look so beautiful, my love.” Blinking back fresh tears, you smooth down her unruly curls. “Ready to walk down the aisle with flowers?”

Georgia just grins and reaches for your necklace. You tickle her belly, making her dissolve into adorable giggles. Your heart swells with love for your daughter.

Too soon, the wedding coordinator is poking her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s just about time!”

Butterflies erupt as everyone hustles to line up. Your father tucks your arm through his, beaming with pride. Just outside the doors, Georgia toddles down the petal-strewn aisle ahead of you both.

Then the soaring orchestral processional begins, and you step out into the golden afternoon sunlight. Gasps and murmurs rise at the sight of your dramatic gown trailing behind.

But your eyes lock instantly on Lando under the flower-woven arch, looking devastatingly handsome in his slate grey suit. His face lights up, and you know that your own mirrors the same wonder and joy.

The ceremony passes in a blur of emotions. Before you know it, the officiant instructs you and Lando to face each other and take hands. Time for the vows.

You go first, hands shaking as you pull out your prepared words. But speaking from the heart comes easily.

“Lando, when we first met under the most unexpected circumstances, I had no idea of the amazing journey we’d go on together. My job was to ensure your new daughter received the care she deserved.”

Your voice wavers slightly. “But so quickly, you both became so much more. Being welcomed into your family was the greatest gift. Watching Georgia grow, guiding her first steps and words ...”

You have to pause, blinking back more tears. Lando squeezes your hands encouragingly.

Composing yourself, you continue thickly, “I vow to always provide that same nurturing love and support. I promise to be your safe place to call home after long days apart. And I pledge to show our daughter daily what it means to be a strong, compassionate woman.”

Taking a shaky breath, you finish softly, “You two are my entire world. Loving you is life’s greatest joy.”

Lando’s eyes glisten as he brushes away the single tear trailing down your cheek. His thumbs linger, cradling your face tenderly.

Clearing his throat, he begins his own vows, voice wavering with emotion. “Y/N, you appeared in my life like an angel that frightening day at the hospital. I was so lost, overwhelmed by the massive responsibility of suddenly having Georgia.”

He glances down at your joined hands. “But your compassion and wisdom guided me through those uncertain early days. You made us feel safe.”

Looking up, his eyes pierce yours intensely. “What started as our doctor-patient relationship grew into the most important friendship I’ve ever known. And then, miraculously, into true, deep love. Thank you for loving Georgia as your own and showing me what true partnership means.”

Lando’s voice cracks. He pauses to take a shaky breath. “So I vow to spend every day reciprocating that love and support. I promise to shield you from the chaos of my world and provide a peaceful home for our family.”

Then he turns, taking a folded paper from the best man. “I asked Georgia if she wanted to say anything to her mama today.”

He opens it to reveal a drawing of three stick figures, one much smaller than the others. Scribbled hearts surround you all.

Lando’s voice thickens. “She said to tell you she loves you ‘this much’ and that you’re the best mama ever.”

A sob escapes you as Lando refolds the cherished drawing and hands it over. You press it to your heart, blinking back a fresh wave of tears.

Finally, you slip the wedding bands onto each other’s fingers with whispered words of eternal love and commitment.

When the officiant pronounces you husband and wife, Lando sweeps you into his arms for the kind of kiss that steals your breath and stops time.

You are finally, officially, wholeheartedly one.

The reception flies by in more happy tears, moving speeches, delicious food, and dancing under the stars. Watching Lando twirl Georgia around the floor tugs at your heart.

Later, as you slow dance wrapped in your new husband’s arms, Lando kisses your hair and whispers, “Ready for this new adventure together, Dr. Y/L/N-Norris?”

You beam up at him. “Absolutely. Lead the way, Mr. Norris.”

No matter where life takes you next on this journey, your family will thrive and grow stronger. Lando’s love lifts you up in ways you never imagined possible. And you vow to cherish and repay that gift until your last breath.

***

Returning home from a blissful honeymoon, you settle back into domestic life with Lando and Georgia. Mornings are spent over pancakes, playing hide and seek, and dancing around the living room. The pure joy of your little family never ceases to warm your heart.

One evening after putting Georgia to bed, you curl up with Lando on the couch and hesitantly broach something you’ve been thinking about.

“So I wanted to discuss something with you. It’s just an idea, and please don’t feel pressured at all.” You take a deep breath. “What would you think about me officially adopting Gigi?”

Lando’s eyes widen in surprise. You rush to continue explaining.

“I don’t want you to think I need a piece of paper to love her with my whole heart, because I already do. More than anything in this world.” Your voice cracks slightly.

Reaching out, you grasp his hands. “I just want to make sure that no matter what, I have a legal right to take care of her. But only if you’re completely comfortable with it!”

Lando is quiet for a long moment, studying your anxious face. Then a smile spreads across his face. “Love, I think it’s a beautiful idea.”

You sag in relief. “Truly? I wasn’t sure if it was too much ...”

Lando silences you with a tender kiss. “Gigi is the luckiest girl in the world to have you as her mum. I want the whole world to know that too.”

Tears prick your eyes as Lando caresses your cheek. “The day you promised to love Georgia as your own was the moment I knew you were different. I see how you are with her — the time, the care, the unconditional love ...” His voice cracks slightly.

“You gave us the greatest gift. I want you to have the same security that she’ll always be yours.”

A single tear traces down your cheek. Lando brushes it away gently before drawing you into his arms. You cling to him, heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

When you finally pull back, Lando is dabbing at his own eyes. “So,” he says with a watery chuckle, “How do we make this official?”

You explain the process — paperwork, a hearing, lawyer fees. He waves it all off.

“Whatever it takes. I’ll call our attorney first thing tomorrow.” Lando squeezes you tight. “Soon you’ll legally be Gigi’s mum too!”

You grin and kiss him soundly. With Lando fully on board, excitement takes root.

Over the next weeks, you go through the steps — filing petitions, scheduling court dates, and explaining the process in age-appropriate ways to an occasionally grumpy Georgia when she can’t go play outside instead.

Finally, the big day arrives. You dress Georgia in her favorite pink checkered dress and do her hair in perfect pigtails.

“My beautiful girl,” you murmur, smoothing down a flyaway curl. Her answering smile melts your heart.

At the courthouse, you all meet the social worker assigned to your case. She questions you and Lando gently about your relationship, home life, and approach to parenting. You cling tight to Lando’s hand the entire time.

Finally, it’s time for the hearing before a grandfatherly judge. He smiles warmly, peering over his glasses at you all.

“Well, I must say, this is one of the more straightforward cases to come before me. I can see clear as day how much love exists in this family.”

Relief floods you. The judge continues, “Therefore, I am more than pleased to grant the petition to finalize the adoption of Georgia Senna Norris by her mother, Y/N Y/L/N-Norris.” He bangs his gavel with an air of finality.

Joyful tears pour down your face. Lando whoops and sweeps you into a spinning hug. Even Georgia seems to realize something momentous just occurred, clapping her little hands.

In a daze, you sign the final paperwork making it official before emerging from the courthouse into the warm sunlight, your family now fully complete.

That evening, after Georgia is asleep, you curl up with Lando in bed, reliving the special day. He kisses your hair and murmurs, “I’m so proud of you, Mama.”

You grin against his chest. “I never thought I could feel so much love. She’s changed my life in every way.”

Lando tilts your chin up, eyes glowing. “That’s exactly how I feel about you. My girls who make life beautiful.”

***

One sunny afternoon, you’re in the kitchen prepping a snack for four-year-old Georgia when she comes bounding in from preschool.

“Mummy, guess what? My friend Amy at school is gonna be a big sister!” She hops up on her stool, eyes bright with excitement.

“Oh really? That’s fun!” You slice an apple into bunny shapes.

Georgia nods vigorously. “Yeah! Her mum has a baby in her tummy. Can I have a brother or sister in your tummy too?”

You freeze, knife hovering over the apple. Slowly setting it down, you turn to face her. “You want a little sibling?”

“Yes yes yes!” She bounces in her seat. “I asked Daddy already and he said I should ask you too.”

Your mind spins. A baby … it’s something you and Lando have only vaguely discussed as a someday possibility. But with Georgia asking so eagerly, the concept suddenly feels very real.

Just then, Lando walks in from his office. Georgia immediately appeals to him. “Daddy, tell Mummy we should have a baby! I wanna be a big sister.”

Lando meets your startled gaze, scrubbing a hand through his curls. “Well, uh, what do you think, love? Could be kinda nice to add to our crew.”

You glance between their hopeful faces, heart swelling. “I think … that could be really special for our family.”

Georgia cheers while Lando grins, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “A mini you running around? Sign me up.” His smile falters slightly. “Only if you want to though, truly.”

You squeeze him back. “I really do. We’ve come so far since the days of newborn Georgia. I’d love to go through it all again with you.”

The joy lighting up Lando’s face erases any lingering doubts.

That night after Georgia is asleep, you curl up together to discuss logistics. “I’ll need to give notice at the hospital once I’m pregnant so they can find someone to cover my maternity leave.”

Lando waves dismissively. “Don’t worry about any of that. Focus on growing our little muffin and I’ll handle the rest.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Our little muffin?”

“Or crumpet. Jellybean. Peanut.” Lando grins. “Take your pick, I’ve got a million terrible nicknames ready to go.”

Laughing, you swat his chest playfully. Sobering, you add, “It won’t be easy juggling a newborn and busy four year-old. But I can’t wait to see Georgia as a big sister.”

Lando smiles tenderly, threading his fingers through yours. “You’re already the most incredible mum. Our kids are so lucky.”

Your throat tightens at the absolute faith in his voice. No matter the challenges ahead, you’ll get through them together.

When you share the news with Georgia, she screeches loud enough to wake the neighbors. Her enthusiasm never wanes over the following months.

Finally, the big day arrives. After a long but relatively smooth delivery, your son enters the world screaming indignantly. The sound is music to your ears.

Lando cuts the cord with shaking hands before your little boy is placed in your arms. Love surges fiercely and instantly.

“Hi Maddox,” you whisper through joyful tears. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Lando presses a kiss to both your heads before going to bring Georgia in. She gasps softly, climbing up to peer at her new brother with wide eyes.

“He’s so little!” Reaching out a gentle finger, she strokes Maddox’s downy cheek. Your heart clenches watching your babies meet.

Georgia cuddles close as you adjust her arm to help cradle Maddox. “I’m your big sister Gigi! I’m gonna help take care of you.” She drops a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

Blinking back a fresh wave of tears, you meet Lando’s equally wet gaze. The road that first led you to Lando has become so much more than you ever imagined. But you wouldn’t change a single unexpected twist or turn.

***

You link arms with Lando as you make your way through the familiar Silverstone paddock. The distinctive smell of race fuel hangs in the air, mingling with the buzz of excitement rippling through the crowd.

Georgia skips ahead, her brunette curls bouncing with each step, while Maddox clings to Lando’s free hand, his eyes wide with wonder. Alexa, your two-year-old, nestles securely in your arms, her tiny fingers clutching the McLaren teddy bear she insisted on bringing today. A small smile tugs at your lips as you glance down at her cherubic face, so much like Lando’s. Your heart swells with love for your beautiful family.

“Mummy, look!” Georgia calls out, pointing towards the McLaren garage suite. “Can we go in and see the car later?”

“We’ll see, darling,” you reply with a wink, knowing full well that Lando will ensure a special tour for the kids.

Lando squeezes your hand, his warm eyes twinkling with adoration. “Anything for my favorite girls … and Maddox,” he teases, ruffling Maddox’s hair playfully.

Maddox giggles, his freckled cheeks dimpling. “I’m your favorite boy though, right?”

“Of course,” Lando assures him with a conspiratorial wink.

As you continue down the bustling pathway, a Sky Sports reporter spots your family and rushes over, microphone in hand.

“Lando! Dr. Y/L/N-Norris! Do you have a moment for a quick interview?” He asks, his cameraman already rolling.

Lando nods, ever the professional. “Sure, mate. Go ahead.”

The reporter flashes a bright smile at the camera. “We’re here at the Silverstone Circuit with McLaren driver, Lando Norris, his wife, Dr. Y/N Y/L/N-Norris, and their children, Georgia, Maddox, and Alexa. It’s the weekend of the British Grand Prix, and the Norris family has been a fixture in the paddock for years.”

He turns to Georgia and Maddox, crouching down to their level. “So, you two must love coming to the races with your dad. What’s your favorite part?”

Georgia’s eyes light up as she launches into an enthusiastic explanation about the cars and the pit stops, her hands gesturing animatedly. Maddox, the quieter one, simply mumbles “the colors” with a shy grin.

The reporter chuckles, clearly charmed by the children’s responses. Straightening up, he addresses you and Lando. “And how about you two? Managing a hectic F1 schedule with three young kids can’t be easy. What’s the secret?”

Before either of you can respond, Georgia pipes up, “But it’s not three kids, it’s five!”

You tense, shooting Lando a panicked glance. This wasn’t how you’d planned to share the news of your pregnancy.

“Five kids?” The reporter’s brows furrow in confusion.

Georgia nods matter-of-factly. “Yep, there are two more babies in Mummy’s belly!”

A hush falls over the small crowd that has gathered nearby, and you can feel dozens of eyes trained on your still-flat stomach. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively place a protective hand over your abdomen.

The reporter blinks, clearly thrown off-script. “Well, I … congratulations! That’s certainly going to be a handful.”

You force a laugh, leaning into Lando’s solid frame. “Yes, well, Lando’s always said he wants a football team.”

Your husband grins, that cheeky grin you fell in love with, and wraps an arm around your waist. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

The crowd titters with amusement, and you can feel the tension dissipating.

“I can only imagine,” the reporter replies with a smile. “Well, thank you all for chatting with us today, and congratulations again on your growing family!”

As the reporter and his crew move on, you turn to Lando, your eyes shining with unshed tears — a heady mix of residual mortification and overwhelming love.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his stubbled jaw. “I know we wanted to share the news on our own terms.”

Lando silences you with a tender kiss, his lips warm and achingly familiar against yours. When he pulls back, his gaze is soft, adoring.

“Are you kidding? There’s no better way to announce it than through Gigi,” he says with a wink. “Besides, I’m just happy the whole world knows that I have super sperm.”

You laugh despite yourself, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” he counters, that infuriatingly irresistible grin stretching across his face.

“God help me, I do,” you sigh, melting into his embrace.

Georgia bounds over then, Maddox and Alexa in tow, her expression a mixture of exhilaration and uncertainty.

“Was I not supposed to tell, Mummy? Did I do something wrong?” She asks, her eyes wide and questioning.

You quickly kneel down, gathering all three children into your arms and peppering their faces with kisses.

“No, my darling, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just … surprised us, that’s all.” You share a look with Lando over their heads, a look that conveys a thousand words — your hopes, your dreams, your boundless love for this incredible little family you’ve created together.

Lando reaches down, ruffling Georgia’s curls with one hand while gently squeezing your shoulder with the other. A silent promise, a vow to always be by your side as you navigate the beautiful chaos of your life together.

Rising to your feet, you adjust Alexa on your hip and take Georgia’s small hand in your own. Maddox slips his hand into Lando’s, and you set off once more, the television crew long forgotten.

This is your life — a whirlwind of races and airports, photoshoots and interviews. But it’s also quiet nights cuddled on the sofa, re-watching Disney movies for the millionth time. It’s family hugs and sloppy baby kisses, skinned knees and endless giggles. It’s laundry piled to the ceiling and sleepless nights spent pacing the nursery.

It’s messy and magical, exhausting and exhilarating. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[shaguro]

⤿ synposis: you can't ever leave the house without giving toji a kiss good-bye.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: fluff fluff fluff. (toji x fem!reader, established relationship, pet names used ( girl, baby, doll) toji's just in love idk. i wrote the majority of this at like 1 am nd barely proofread!!) wc ⇀ around 0.7k!

"girl", toji drawls, cerulean orbs trained on your figure by the front door. he’s manspread on your living room sofa, sitcom on the tv screen long forgotten as he turns his body around, all his attention on you and only you. “aren’t you forgettin’ somethin’?”

“hmm? what are you talking about, baby?” you keep your head low while you fumble with your stilettos, a hand on the wall for balance as you finally slip it onto your stocking-clad foot, the last step before you head out for your shift, the sun just peeking over the horizon.

of course, you know exactly what toji’s talking about. it doesn’t matter where you’re going or whether you’ll be back in ten minutes or a few hours, whether he’s in deep sleep or in the middle of an intense workout session — toji expects a kiss good-bye before you leave the apartment you share. he’s real strict about it too, he doesn’t accept any excuses, no if’s, an’s or buts.

does knowing all this stop you from testing the dark-haired man? absolutely not.

“i packed my work-bag last night and i have the car keys right here, looks like i’ve got-“

“now you know that’s not what i’m talkin’ about,” toji deadpans, completely unamused. barely keeping up the act, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling. “don’t play dumb with me, baby.”

you do just that — tilt your head all cute and innocent as you furrow your brows, crossing your arms against your blouse. “i’m being serious though! i dont know what you’re talking about, i swear.”

“girl, please.” toji scoffs, scarred lip almost turned in a scowl. he’s always so sassy when you start to annoy him. “ya really stress me out, y’know that?” in a quick motion, he stands up, stretching out his long arms before he turns to face you. “you don’t know, huh? c’mere and let me remind you, then.”

toji’s tilts his head down. with low eyes and a coy smirk on his handsome face, he beckons you close with a single finger.

you can’t hide your smile now, it spreads ear to ear as you bounce over to him, the click clacking of your heels resounding on the hardwood floor until you reach the plush carpet where toji stood. he wastes no time, cupping his hands on the globes of your ass and tugs your body flush against his. toji’s so warm — he’s shirtless and all his sculpted muscles are on display, flexing when your cold hands glide across his pecs to snake around his neck.

toji leans down and his plump pink lips meet your glossed ones, the strawberry-flavored gloss sat sweet on his tastebuds but he prefers your taste instead, sliding his tongue through your slightly-parted lips with hopes to satisfy his glutinous craving and he’s not disappointed when your tongues mingle. “mm.” never tired of that saccharine taste, toji grunts into your mouth, taking his time kissing you — oddly soft and gentle.

toji pulls away and your lips part, only separated by a string of sticky saliva before he goes back in, giving you one, two, three quick pecks before he’s had his fill.

soft pants fill the air as toji holds you close, foreheads touching. “that jog your memory?”

toji rolls his eyes when you hum happy ‘mmhm!’ in response, hands rubbing on his broad shoulders, your fingertips ghosting the sharp line of his jaw. “you’re a pain in my ass…” he huffs, and you burst into a fit of giggles at his annoyed expression, unable to contain it anymore. it’s just so adorable — an infectious melody that toji prays he’ll continue to hear, for many years to come.

“lucky y’er so fuckin’ pretty . . next time i won’t go so easy on ya.” as if to seal the promise, he lands a heavy smack! on your ass. “toji!” you squeal out, the force of it propels you forward, temple thumping on his toned chest.

it was his turn to chuckle now, soothing the blow with a gentle rub of his palm prior to kissing the crown of your head. “now that i got my kisses . . s’time for you to head out, doll. don’t wanna be late again, hm?”

i'm finally back after disappearing for like a thousand years yayyy (don't beat me up yall pls)

[p1nkshield]

I made a post earlier about how Dick should have taught Damian to use his baby face to his advantage and someone said he would teach all of his siblings. So here is the aftermath. A task force specifically designed to bring Bruce down.

Dick: Hey B, I was wondering if we could borrow the Batmobile for the weekend?

Bruce: … [no]

Dick: Pretty please I promise it will be in one piece when I give it back!

Bruce: Hnn. [Still no]

Dick: Fine then, you’ve forced my hand. ATTACK!

Tim steps forward, yawning and promising to try and sleep properly.

Bruce loses two health points.

Duke is next in the initiative order.

Duke: It would be fun!

The full power of the sun shines through his smile.

Bruce falters but passes a quick time event in his head, only losing another two health points.

Cass steps up to the plate.

Cass: I would like to go on an outing with my siblings, it sounds fun.

CRITICAL HIT!

Bruce is starting to sweat as a total of ten health points are swept away by the fact cass considers them family.

Damian decides to use his special attack! Holding the target’s sleeve makes it especially effective!

Damian: Baba, please?

A whopping fifty points! BRUCE IS HANGING ON BY A THREAD!

Jason: c’mon Dad.

Fatality

Bruce: fine.

Dick: Great job team!

Damian: yes, we got the Batmobile successfully. I will drive.

Dick: No-

[writingouthere]

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

[ultravioletbrit]

“coffee” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 618 words

“He doesn’t like coffee. He likes tea; no milk, two sugars.” James interrupts the random guy that’s been trying to ask Regulus out for coffee for the last ten minutes.

“Oh, okay… well, um…?” The guy looks at James then back to Regulus and raises his eyebrows with an unspoken question. Regulus just gives him a small shrug. “Right… um… I’ll just... I’m going to… yeah…” He mumbles, then just turns and walks away.

“Quite the linguist, that one.” James says with a small laugh.

“How did you…?” Regulus questions as he turns to look at James.

“You looked kind of stuck, so I thought I’d give you an out if you wanted to take it.”

“No, I mean, how did you know my coffee order, or lack thereof?”

“Oh, well, I sort of just pay attention sometimes.” James shrugs.

“You pay attention to me?” Regulus asks as he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Maybe… but not in a creepy way… I just like to know what people like, I guess.”

Regulus tilts his head and narrows his eyes at James. “What else do you pay attention to?”

“What do you mean?”

“You pay attention to what people like. What else do I like?” Regulus challenges.

“Um…” James swallows nervously. “Your favorite color is green.” He says it almost as a question.

“Everyone knows that.” Regulus says as he rolls his eyes.

“But you don’t like dark green, you like lighter green better, sort of like the color of a green apple.”

Regulus raises both eyebrows, slightly impressed and takes a step closer to James.

“Hm. What else do I like?”

James still seems slightly nervous but gaining a bit more confidence at the same time. “You don’t like tomatoes, but you love tomato soup.” James’ voice starts to get a bit softer.

Regulus tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows, it’s an odd choice but accurate, nonetheless.

“What else?” He takes another step into James’ space.  

“You like white chocolate more than milk chocolate, but you like that you don’t have it very often because then it’s sort of special when you do have it.” James starts to whisper as Regulus moves even closer.

“What else?” It’s barely a breath as he gazes into James’ eyes.  

“You don’t like when this curl falls forward.” He reaches up to tuck the curl behind Regulus’ ear.

Regulus doesn’t respond, he just hums and leans into James’ hand a bit. James moves his other hand down Regulus’ arm.

“You wear your jumpers a few sizes too big because you like when the sleeves fall over your hands.” He intertwines their fingers and continues-

“You like to paint your nails black, but you like it better when you paint them pink, but you don’t do that very often.” James quickly glances down to Regulus lips then back to his eyes. “You don’t like it when your lips get dry, so you always keep chapstick in your left pocket. You like the mint flavor the best.” James says it so quietly Regulus only hears it because he’s barely an inch away from him.

“James…” Regulus says just as softly. “What else do I like?” He breathes with a heated look in his eyes.

“Do you maybe like…?” He bites his bottom lip with a small smile and before he finishes the question, Regulus is already nodding.

“Yeah.” He says with a soft smile. 

“Can I…” James’ smile grows slightly bigger as he flicks his eyes down to Regulus’ lips again.

“Yeah.” Regulus can’t help but smile back as James closes the final distance between them with a soft, slow kiss. 

When they break apart Regulus smirks slightly and says, “You taste like coffee.”

James’ smile grows impossibly wider.

“Sorry.” But he doesn’t seem sorry at all as he leans in to kiss Regulus again.

[ceilidho]

He’s late for his own trial.

You’ve been standing outside the courthouse for what feels like twenty minutes now, tapping your heel on the ground and checking your watch for the umpteenth time. The two of you are already supposed to be inside the courtroom getting set up and going over the details of his case, but instead of grabbing a coffee at the shop across the street and combing over the case notes, you’ll be pressed to even get a couple hissed whispers out between you two before the judge steps up to the bench. 

You think about calling your client again, but that thought quickly evaporates when the sound of muffled heavy metal rumbles out of the gunmetal sedan that just pulled into the parking lot at around thirty miles an hour. You take a deep breath when he parks, already trying to talk yourself out of the bad mood you’re in.

In the back of your mind, you’re about eighty percent sure that there’s no way you’re leaving today without a guilty conviction. When Johnny steps out of the car, the cheap sunglasses obscuring his eyes do nothing to distract from the way he’s obviously hungover. He’s buttoning up his suit jacket from the middle button as he walks up the stone steps towards you, sliding his sunglasses into the breast pocket. 

“Don’t you look sharp,” you remark dryly when he’s close enough to lock eyes with you. You have to force down a shudder that threatens to ripple down your spine at the cocky grin that spreads over his face. 

You’re obviously being facetious. Johnny’s suit is two sizes too small for him—it looks like the last time he wore it was to his high school graduation and he’s grown at least a foot since then—and his shirt and pants are rumpled like he wore them to bed the night before. The scruff sprouting from his cheeks and chin also supports that notion; he’s still rubbing the sleep out of his eye when he walks up to you.

“‘N’ ye look—I wanna say exquisite, but we should probably keep it professional, huh?” 

He winks down at you and the twinkle in his eye infuriates you as much as it ingratiates you. You didn’t spend nearly ten years working your way through undergrad, law school, and years as a public defender to start preening at the attention of the first cute guy you’ve had to represent in your career. 

“I think we passed ‘professional’ after the seventh pass you made at me.”

“‘N’ it won’t be the last. Anyway, stop wasting time—let’s get this show on the road,” he says, side-stepping around you towards the court doors. “I’m not going to jail because someone wanted to flirt with me before my trial.” 

Your jaw drops. He acts like he isn't in this situation because he was accused of holding up a gas station six months ago. You think he’s about to brush past you until you feel a hand plant itself on the middle of your back and push you forward, making you almost stumble into the courthouse. 

“Anyway, we can pick up this conversation in the bog during the break if yer that hot for it,” he murmurs into your ear before you’re separated and searched upon entering the courthouse. Your cheeks do not—absolutely do not—heat up at his tone of voice. 

You’re right in that the two of you barely have any time to prepare. The prosecution is already set up at their table and even the court reporter and judge’s clerk are already present. You squirm at a side-eye from the other counsel, hurrying Johnny over to your table and spending the next ten minutes with your lips practically pressed against his ear.

All throughout the trial, he leans back in his chair and looks like the picture of a petulant child who’s been dragged along by his parent. If you could sink your head into your palms without immediately losing face in front of the judge, you would; all he had to do—and you’d reminded him this for weeks before the trial—was sit straight and not roll his eyes when the prosecution brought up their witnesses. He can’t even manage that.

Somehow though, miraculously almost—and in your defense, even Johnny looks shocked when the verdict is rendered—he’s not found guilty. You’re still a little shell shocked walking out of the courthouse, the sunlight making you squint and then a cup a hand around your eyes. 

He fits a big hand around your waist when you’re about to part ways with him, pulling you back into his chest. Your head whips up to stare at him, ignoring the clench in your belly when his fingers curl into your flesh and that same smug grin quirks up on his lips.

“Why don’t we go grab a drink to celebrate our win, hen?” he suggests. 

“I don’t grab drinks with clients,” you snap, trying to put some distance between you and him. 

Johnny leans down a bit more, always towering over you, until his face is so close that you almost go cross-eyed. “We dinnae have to go out then. We can just go back to my car. Ah can show you how much ah pure appreciate a’ ye did fer me.”

“I don’t need your thanks, I get paid for this—”

“Baby,” he murmurs, stressing the word out, and the moment suddenly feels cramped and intimate, despite the fact that you’re standing in the middle of a crowded parking lot. “Just let me eat ye out in th' backseat.”

You’re stunned for all of ten seconds before you try to glance inconspicuously around the parking lot. It doesn’t look like anyone’s paying attention. Johnny notices it at the same time as you and his smile goes devilish, teeth showing behind his lips. 

“Aye, ah ken that look. Come on—I ken a spot down th’ road where we can park.”

[bleach-your-panties]

JJK Men: When You're Sleepy, But They're Horny🍒🎀

(a/n: i usually suck ass at headcanons but let's give this a whirl. characters aged 18+. nsfw mdni, sexual content. fem reader)

(characters: yuuji, megumi, nanami, toge, gojo)

dividers: glitter-graphics, @/cafekitsune

♥︎

Yuuji:

It's 9pm and you had just returned from a solo mission, finished your shower, hair routine, and climbed into bed. You hear the soft click of your room door opening and you know that it has to be none other than your boyfriend, Yuuji.

"Babe, are you still awake?" His soft voice whispers right beside your ear before he presses a kiss to the side of your head. You groan out something unintelligible and Yuuji's heart sinks a bit.

He's really hard and he was hoping that you might feel like 'playing' a little, but he also knows that you're probably really tired.

"I can feel you pouting, Yuu. Put it in my hand."

You stretch your palm out from under your covers and Yuuji is quickly shoving his pants down to free his hard dick.

"T-thank you, so much, cutie. Fuck, I love you!" He whimpers/whispers as you stroke him with your nice, warm fingers running all along his shaft.

He's so pent-up that it only takes a few rough tugs before he's spilling his seed into your hand.

"Promise to fuck you good when you wake up, baby. You're so good to me."

You were already snoring before he cleaned your hand off and left your room silently.

♥︎

Megumi:

You're curled up in bed with Megumi spooning while the two of you watch anime. You've finished nearly half the season in the last couple hours that you've been watching and now your eyes are drooping.

Megumi is still watching the TV but his eyes flit down to where your ass is pressed against his crotch. The sleep shorts you're wearing give him a perfect view of your thighs.

Being a semi-grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer, you have keen awareness and heightened senses, so you automatically feel Megumi's stone cold blue eyes boring into your back.

"What is it, Megara?" You yawn out, turning slightly to look at him over your shoulder. He rolls said eyes.

"Told you to stop calling me that."

He answers your question by rutting his hips forward and rubbing his hard-on against your ass.

"I'm tired, Megs. Here." You turn over halfway on to your stomach, fully presenting your ass to him and his eyes widen at the gap made by your thighs.

He sinks his dick into the makeshift hole and fucks it slowly, edging himself, until he feels his balls tighten and he's cumming into the opening.

A warm blush covers his cheeks but he dutifully grabs some wipes and cleans you off before kissing your head and pulling you into his chest.

♥︎

Nanami:

Kento is working another late shift and you just can't stay up waiting for him any longer.

You're quickly falling asleep in the armchair when the front door knob twists and he steps inside.

"Angel, are you asleep in the chair?"

"Mmm...Kento is that you?" You drawl with your head resting against the cushion. He chuckles at your cuteness.

"Yes, it's me, darling. Come on, let's get you to bed.

"Okay."

Once he's laid you on the bed, he can't help but begin to caress your smooth legs up to your thighs hidden beneath your nightgown.

His dick begins to strain against his dress pants but he looks up at your blissful face and dares not to ask you if you want to make love.

"Kento...what's wrong? Come on to bed, already."

"Do you mind if I eat you out, darling?"

Your heart swells ten times its size just knowing how much he cares for you.

"Mhmm, please..."

And he dives right in, sucking and licking you to Nirvana. It feels so good, your legs start shaking and you're cumming over his handsome face in record time.

Your orgasm completely knocks you out cold and he chuckles at your peaceful form before undressing to his boxers and climbing under the covers with you.

♥︎

Toge:

You're cuddled up in Toge's bed with him looking at memes and funny videos on his phone.

With a free day from classes, the two of you had been out all day exploring Tokyo and now you're absolutely exhausted.

You snuggle into his warm chest and inhale the scent of his laundry detergent. Toge kisses the top of your head, his lavender eyes then trailing down over your beautiful face....your lithe neck with the necklace he bought you for your birthday around it, and further down to your tits.

He softly inhales and wraps an arm around your back to press you further against him so he can feel your breasts squished against his hard chest.

You shuffle a bit in his hold and your sleepy eyes look up into his amethyst ones.

"Toge...?"

His dick is hard and swollen against his thigh, but you look so cute like this - he can't help but lean his head down to kiss each of your breasts.

"Sleep."

Your body can't do anything but obey.

That was probably the best sleep you'd gotten in a while.

♥︎

Gojo:

Satoru was away for the day on a field trip with his students and you decided to clean the entire house while he was away. You never had the time to do it when he was around because you'd either be holed up in the bedroom all day or pressed up against some random piece of furniture with him thrusting into you wildly.

When you finished the upstairs, you decided to go lie down and have a quick nap before he got back.

Hours later, you're still knocked out; the cleaning had really drained you more than you realized.

"Honeybun, I'm home and I brought you a souvenir!~"

Your joyful husband slams open the bedroom door with some shopping bags in tow.

The bags drop to the floor and he immediately hushes himself once he sees that you're asleep.

"Aww, look at my precious sleeping baby.." He slips off his blindfold, revealing his beautiful, crystalline blue eyes while he shreds himself of his work clothes and joins you in the bed.

The movements make you shift around a bit and then you feel warm breath over your neck and cheeks.

"Hm, Satoru.." Your hand tangles into his soft white locks while his lips press against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, leaving wet, hungry kisses on your sweet-scented skin.

"Missed you so much, sweetie...need to have you right now."

There was rarely a time when this man wasn't horny for you, but if you refused and wanted to just sleep, he wouldn't object. He knows that even though you're not a sorcerer you still have a life and things that keep you occupied when he's away.

You shift until you're lying completely on your back and Satoru is spreading your thighs with his knees. He pulls out his cock and begins stroking it until it's hard and leaking pre-cum.

"I love you.." He murmurs into your hair once he's sunken all eight inches inside your tight cunt.

Your eyes close instinctively, but he pats your cheek before gripping your chin in his rough grip.

"Look at me. I want to watch your pretty eyes while I fuck you back to sleep."

----

i actually fell asleep while writing this loool. going back to sleep now, peace.

[reiderwriter]

♤ I Can't Help Myself ♤

“Look, Spencer. I probably have nothing against you personally. But I've just been conned into another three months of probationary minimum wage because your boss at the Bureau decided he wanted rid of you for a month or two. Some of us didn't get child genius scholarships for multiple PhDs and aren't receiving two paychecks right now.” “If money is an issue, Y/N, you know I could-” “No. No, stop butting into my personal problems. We can be civil, but we're not… we're not friends, Spencer.” You stepped back and let out another sigh as you forced the words to stand between you. “Okay. I'll stay out of your way.” “Great. Looking forward to it.” “Sure. Me too.”

Synopsis: Just when you think everything is going right for you, Spencer Reid walks into your life and ruins everything. Stealing your job and half of your office, you can manage, but you won't let him steal your heart as well.

Warnings (possible spoilers): Enemies to lovers, academic rivals to lovers, slight age gap, Professor Reader x Professor Spencer, eventual smut, unplanned pregnancy.

A/N: Welcome to my new series! This one specifically is dedicated to the one anon in my inbox that has been asking only for enemies to lovers for like 8 months now, but also to anyone who is a great enemies-with-benefits-to-lovers fan!

Masterlist || 5k Celebration Challenge

T A G L I S T

Chapter One - Puppet on a String

Chapter Two - Four In The Velvet Morning

Chapter Three - Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory

Chapter Four - Here Isn't Where I Wanna Be

Chapter Five - In Case I'm Mistaken

Chapter Six - Wished Away Entire Lifetimes

Chapter Seven - The Thrill of the Chase

Chapter Eight - 1/7/24

Chapter Nine - 8/7/24

Chapter Ten - 15/7/24

Epilogue One - 22/7/24

[stunie]

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU!”

HAIKYUU + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hinata shoyo, kuroo tetsurou, & tsukishima kei x f!reader

filled request : “Since you said you write for haikyuu, can you imagine how sweet those tall (Hinata is tall in spirit) and strong green flag boys would be all very sorry and remourseful for harming their baby in accident? I think even Tsukishima (my fave asshole) would try to make it up even if it wasnt that serious.”

note : added kuroo ^ ^ <33 thank u for sending this in nonnie !!!

TSUKISHIMA KEI.

You don’t know when the brilliant idea of jump-scaring Tsukishima Kei first popped into your mind. Maybe it was because he’s been egging you on lately, resting a heavy arm on your head, then on your shoulders— snickering when you start huffing and puffing about how “You’re not a damn armrest.”

Cute- to him, probably. But today would be your turn to mess with him, show him a little taste of his own medicine, or something like that. You just think it’d be funny to hear him scream for once.

You’re as quiet as can be when you tiptoe behind him from where he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, your fluffiest socks already on to ensure maximum silence with the extra cushioning. All it would take was one singular hug around his middle— and then you’d squeeze, force the scream right out of his body.

You’re so close to him that you can hear his breathing now, each soft breath making your heart race a little faster, and you’re suddenly reminded of just how big your boyfriend is. You have to glance upwards to check how he’s doing, and you confirm the fact that he’s indeed.. still focused on perfecting his cereal to milk ratio.

Too much to notice you right behind him, at least.

It all happened too quickly for either of you to have reacted differently. You’re pouncing forward, arms reaching to circle around his waist, and you just barely register the sound of a loud gasp before there’s an impact directly to your nose, your body recoiling back as your vision flashes white.

“F-fuck!” You wince, staggering a couple steps back before you crouch down, hands flying to your nose to clutch it tightly as soon as the throbbing pain sets in.

“What the hell?” He sputters, eyes flickering from his elbow to your face a couple times before he’s rushing to crouch beside you. His hands are awkwardly hovering over your body as he tries to get a better look at you. “What were you doing there? Let me see.”

“Kei,” you sniffle, letting him pry your hands away from your face with a pained hiccup, “Was just gonna scare you….ouch…”

“You’re an idiot,” he snaps, but his eyes are full of worry when he leans in to examine your face. His finger comes to gently trace over your nose, other hand tilting your head up. “..At least it’s not bleeding.”

“Mhm,” you give him a nod, “..So did i get you?”

His eyes narrow at you, but he shifts, leaning forward and nodding for you to climb onto his back. “Idiot,” he’s grumbling to himself, “Do you even have to ask?”

The way you pout at the nickname has his eyes softening ever so slightly before he’s tearing his gaze away from you. “Get on already. There’s enough cereal for both of us.”

“Hm? But you only got one spoon,” you wrap your arms around him, letting him lift you up onto his back.

“And?”

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Look at this one,” Kuroo laughs, tightening the arm around your frame to pull you closer against his side. “He looks like Garfield, doesn’t he? What a neat cat.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nuzzling your nose into his chest as you scroll through your own socials. It was a routine the two of you had, to scroll absentmindedly while tangled in each other’s limbs until someone falls asleep first— except Kuroo’s been laughing uncontrollably for the last ten minutes.

You shoot him a nervous glare each time his phone threatens to slip from his grasp, the scare he gives you always accompanied with an “Oops! That was close.”

“Tetsu…” you warn when he suddenly jolts again, frantically adjusting his grip with a shaky chuckle. Your head was right below his phone, after all. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he smiles, free hand rubbing your head. “I’d never let it fall on you.”

“You’d better not..” your voice trails off into a sleepy mumble, and you switch your phone off, letting it plop onto the mattress as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle. “I’m starting to feel a lil tired..”

“Hmm? I’ll be joining you soon, sleepy girl,” he soothes, hand moving to rub your upper back as you melt into his touch. “Ah! That Garfield-looking cat is back,” he gasps, followed by a hushed whisper when you stir, “Oops. Inside voice, inside voice… hm? What’s this?”

You start to fidget, awkwardly adjusting your position against his side when he suddenly falls eerily silent. maybe too silent. You count the seconds of silence— ten seconds, then fifteen. You perk up a bit, one eye opening to check on your boyfriend, but he’s suddenly jerking back and yelping the moment after, phone slipping from his hands and landing right on your head with a loud thud. “Ah-!”

“Oh— sorry, sorry!” His large hand is covering your head instantly, the other tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you. Just scared the living daylights out of me. That garfield, damned jumpscare… you okay?”

You glare at him, but it doesn’t come off threatening with the tears filling your eyes. “Tetsu…” you growl, and he flinches. “I know, I know! I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you closer to pepper kisses over the top of your head. “I told you…” you pout, “I’m gonna get a bump on my head now.”

His lips tug into a sheepish smile at the thought of a lump forming on your head. “That’s my bad…”

“You’re laughing!”

“I’m not!” He protests, his hands rising up in defensive as you angrily puff your cheeks out. “Nope. No way. This is no time for laughing.”

He pulls you into a hug, chuckling as you weakly push at his chest with a whine. “There, there. You can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Although, I think you’d be cute with a bump on your head too.”

HINATA SHOYO.

If you ask him, Hinata would still swear on everything that his intention back then was nothing more than to squish you in a suffocating bear hug. He definitely did not mean to knock you onto the floor your very first day back from vacation or anything like that.

You just looked so pretty waiting for him at the airport, soft smile tugging at your lips as you checked on his location through your phone one last time before tucking it away into your pocket. The way you shifted between your toes and the balls of your feet was just so cute, too cute that he couldn’t help but start running towards you, arms stretching out to give you the biggest hug of your life.

His eyes were slammed shut the moment he leapt towards you, so he didn’t catch the way your mouth fell open in a gasp or the way your eyes widened as your weight suddenly shifted backwards. “S-Shoyo?!”

The sound of your voice has his eyes shooting open, a surprised “E-eh?” coming out when he realizes the two of you are falling— and fast. He’s barely able to snake a hand underneath your head before the two of you crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Ouch— oops,” he grumbles, eyes slowly blinking open as he shifts onto his elbow. There’s a sigh of relief from him when he sees that your fall was at least partially cushioned by his hand, and you seem unhurt with the way you’re blinking up at the passerby before shying away from their gaze when you realize they’d stopped to stare at the two of you sprawled out on the floor.

“Sorry— are you okay?” Hinata’s looming over you now, carefully setting your head on his lap. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“N-no…” you mumble, eyes narrowing into a glare as he freezes in place. “Shoyo,” your voice falls to a whisper, “They’re all looking at us now. really closely too…”

“What?” Hinata laughs, “Shy again?”

You tear your gaze to the side, cheek puffing out a bit. “A little…”

“Want me to carry you?”

your eyes widen. “H-huh?”

“Mhm,” he’s smiling brightly, arms snaking around your body to lift you up in bridal style as you yelp, scrambling to hold onto your bag, “I gotcha. Let’s go home now!”

“..Shoyo!” Your cheeks burn when you notice the onlookers now giving you a soft smile— and the elderly couple behind them are exchanging looks before they’re whispering something to each other- you recognize it as an ‘aww’ by the way their lips move.

“This is more embarrassing!”

“Hm, is it?” He looks confused by your shyness, but his hands are tightening around you anyways, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry! I’ll get us back fast.”

[rottenaero]

They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.

The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’

Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.

He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.

He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.

“ Hey, Hero.”

He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.

He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.

The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.

“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.

Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.

Steve takes a sharp breath.

“ What?”

‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.

Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.

Except maybe not always.

Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“

“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”

Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”

“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”

Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”

“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.

“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.

He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.

“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.

He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.

When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.

Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”

And he blinks, realization dawning.

This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.

He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.

They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.

Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.

He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.

“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.

“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.

His best friend had been in on it.

He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”

The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.

Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.

“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.

Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.

He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.

‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.

He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.

Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.

As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’

Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.

“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.

Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”

His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”

Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.

Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.

She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.

“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.

He nods.

She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”

She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.

The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.

That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.

It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.

" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."

Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.

Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.

He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.

He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.

A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.

It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,

But there was definitely someone in his house.

He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.

There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.

He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.

A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.

One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.

The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.

Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.

A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.

" ' Hey, Hero.' "