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cherienymphe · 2 days ago

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Birds of a Feather

Carmine Falcone x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, side of Oswald Cobb x reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @whimsicalrogers

summary: Your boyfriend's boss comes between your relationship in more ways than one.

⭑

“Oz…”

No more words needed to be said, your tone saying it all, and your boyfriend turned to you with that look he knew you hated. He shrugged his shoulders at you, brows furrowed in a way as if to ask what he did, and you couldn’t hold back your sigh. There was a brief stretch of silence between you as you both were surrounded by the noise that was Gotham’s nightlife.

“You said you just needed to drop something off with the twins,” you reminded him, crossing your arms over your chest.

Your boyfriend let out a sigh of his own at the look on your face, and you stood your ground. It was his first night off in almost two months, the restaurant reservations were only going to hold for so long, and you weren’t exactly dressed for the likes of the Iceberg Lounge. You watched the heavyset man move towards you, reaching for an arm but you jerked away from his touch. He didn’t need to say what you knew he was going to say; you could see it all over his face.

“We’ll just be ten minutes, alright?”

“Oz!”

“You know I can’t just swing by without showing my face to Carmine. I’ll pop in, update him on a few things, drop off the stuff and we’ll be on our way.”

He made it sound so simple, but you knew better.

Carmine Falcone was not a simple man. What little you knew of him came from Oz and whispers on the street, but you knew enough. When he wasn’t treating your boyfriend like some lap dog, the kingpin was making money from mysterious sources and running the kind of club you never had the taste for. Funnily enough, the one night you decided to go to said club, you met Oz.

It was simultaneously the best and worst thing to happen to you.

“...and what am I supposed to do while you’re rubbing elbows with your asshole of a boss?”

The question was barely past your lips when Oz was harshly shushing you, frowning at you like you’d lost your mind, but you didn’t care. Carmine Falcone—and anyone listening for him—didn’t scare you. You recognized how stupid that probably was, but it was the truth. He was just another big man with money who threw it at people to feel important.

“What are you? Crazy?” Oz wondered, leaning in and lowering his voice. “You can talk like that around me, but we’re not in my apartment, sweetheart. You show the proper respect around here.”

You bit your tongue at that, narrowing your eyes at the man before you and thinking to yourself that of all the reasons to dislike Mr. Falcone, this was at the top of your list.

You really cared about Oz for a whole lot of reasons independent of his money. You’d always had a thing for the underdogs, and Oz was certainly that, but he was also driven. In this city that chewed people up and spat them out for fun, Oz was always determined to make something out of nothing and refused to let this city break him. It was admirable, really, and it made you have so much respect for him.

…but when he got around Mr. Falcone…

You really resisted the urge to roll your eyes, hating how much of a bitch he became in the presence of the other man. You got it to an extent. The man was his boss and he needed to be listened to, you understood that perfectly well, but your boyfriend’s entire demeanor seemed to change in his presence. He always turned into someone you hardly recognized—a pathetic ass-kissing excuse of a man just yearning for Mr. Falcone’s approval—and if you didn’t love him so much, you would’ve left a long time ago by how much it disgusted you.

“I’ll sit you in my office,” he finally answered with a shrug. “You can hang out for a while and overlook the club in my absence.”

There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but it didn’t latch itself onto you, and Oz waved you off.

“Lighten up,” he added, tone much softer now as he pressed a kiss to your forehead before guiding you both towards the door.

Only one of the twins was at the door tonight, and you threw him a tight smile as he greeted you both. Since that night you’d met Oz, you’d only been inside of the club two other times and both times had you sitting in Oz’s space while he discussed whatever with Mr. Falcone and Kenzie. There were worse spaces to be, you supposed—Oz’s office being all windows with a bar that allowed you to watch the dancers below—but he knew how much you detested this entire scene.

Tonight was no different.

He gave countless apologies and fixed you up a drink before disappearing with a kiss. You sipped on it while looking down at the club goers below you, once again having the same mental conversation with yourself that you had every other month. Oz was determined to secure better for himself, sure, but he didn’t seem keen on securing it outside of this lifestyle. He loved this lifestyle, and you were once again seriously contemplating if this was how you saw the rest of your life playing out.

As you waited for your boyfriend, ten minutes turned into twenty which then turned into thirty. You shouldn’t have been surprised when an entire hour passed, and by then, you were too upset to even produce frustrated tears. You’d long finished your first drink and was currently on number whatever when Oz finally showed his face. A scathing remark was on your tongue when he opened his mouth before you could.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized, the rushed words making his accent pop. “...but I gotta reschedule.”

You blinked with a shake of your head, hand tightening on the glass in your hand.

“What?”

That was the last thing you’d been expecting.

Oz placed a hand on your arm just as you stood.

“I gotta do something for Carmine and–.”

“Are you kidding me? Oz!”

“It’s important–!”

“It’s always important! This is the first night off you’ve had in weeks. This night was supposed to be about us, and you let me get all dressed up just to sit up here for an hour and now you tell me–.”

“Look,” Oz harshly cut you off, nostrils flaring as he stared you down. “I don’t like it, but I got no choice, alright?”

You looked away from him, finally feeling like you could cry.

“Something came up, and I gotta do this for him…”

You finished your drink, slamming it down and searching for your purse.

“It shouldn’t take too long, but I gotta leave, now, so Carmine’s driver is going to take you home…”

“Excuse me?” you quietly said, slowly turning to face him. “Carmine’s driver is going to take me home–y-you can’t even take me home?”

You wildly gestured to him, and Oz dismissed you.

“I don’t got time for this. Grab your things and let me walk you outside. He’s waiting…”

Oz’s words died in the air as you hurried past him, not sticking around to hear anymore excuses or reasons as to why he couldn’t take you on your date or at the very least drive you home. You were sure your boyfriend had a few choice words for you, but the loud music drowned him out and it’s not like you were sticking by him to actually hear what he had to say. Your heels stomped against the floor as you hurried to the door, and a bitter taste filled your mouth as you remembered that this was the first time you’d worn them.

You had imagined Oz taking them off at the end of the night.

Now the thought made you laugh.

“I’m sorry, alright? I’ll make it up to you, I promise…”

The words that reached your ears were familiar—and empty—and you only nodded and evenly hummed at every one.

“Yeah…sure, yeah…no I get it, I understand…”

You did understand, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Your boyfriend apologized a few more times before telling you to give him a kiss. You didn’t deny him, but if he noticed how robotic it was, he didn’t comment on it. You’d met Mr. Falcone’s driver a handful of times, and you gave the familiar man a tight smile as he opened the backseat door for you. Oz was peeling out of the parking lot before you could even get in, and as you stared after his car, you had the strangest urge to look up.

You did.

The windows of the Shoreline Lofts above the club were lit up, and you could see a couple of men moving around inside. You briefly wondered if that was where Oz always had to go when he needed to see Mr. Falcone. The moving figures didn’t hold your interest but instead the still figure standing just on the other side of one of the windows did. It wasn’t hard to guess that he was staring down into the parking lot, and something in you told you that the seemingly tall man was the very same who ruined your night.

With a huff, you slid into the expensive car, taking off your painful heels the moment the door was shut.

Things between you and Oz were a little icy.

Both of you held some blame but you stood by the opinion that Oz held most of it. More apologies came in the form of flowers and jewelry, but you were learning in real time that the allure and grandeur of those things start to lose their luster after a while. You loved him, but every day you wondered if it was enough. There was no telling when Oz’s next day off would be to properly make it up to you, but if the way things were going was any indication, you surmised that it was going to be a while.

Mr. Falcone had Oz running up and down the streets of Gotham like your boyfriend was the one actually running the city. On the days where you even saw him—which were becoming far and few in between—the interactions felt like they lasted only minutes. He always needed to go, always had something to drop off or pick up, or something to handle.

“Just come with me tonight,” he said to you one day. “We barely see each other, and I know you think I haven’t noticed or don’t care, but I promise you I do.”

“I don’t know…”

He knew how you felt about that place, and it’s not like he was asking you to sit in his office this time—Oz was talking about the 44 Below. You’d heard whispers of a club within the club that was the Iceberg Lounge, but you had never given the validity of it much thought. After all, it wasn’t your crowd nor something you concerned yourself with. One of your friends had referred to it as a mob hangout, and you’d laughed in her face then.

Since meeting Oz though, the idea became less funny to you.

While you may not have known what Mr. Falcone did exactly, the last few years certainly made you less naive about how Gotham really worked and how men like him really stayed above water. There were days when you struggled not to linger on Oz’s part in that food chain.

The man in question sat beside you on his bed, taking your hand.

“You’re still pissed about the other week, I ain’t stupid, but until I can really make it up to you, let me do what I can,” he offered, and you sighed. “I miss you, and you miss me…yeah?”

You reluctantly nodded, and Oz bent his head, trying to catch your eye.

“Whadaya say?”

You threw your hands up with a slow smile, and Oz let out that haughty laugh of his you’d grown to love. He was doing what he could to spend more time with you, and even if you didn’t completely agree with the way he was going about it, it mattered to you that he was trying. Besides, it wasn’t like you were opposed to the idea of becoming more familiar with exactly what Oz did for a living.

That was how you found yourself in the 44 Below for the first time, lips pressed together and eyes taking it all in as you observed the kind of men you never expected to find in a place like this. Oz’s talk with you on the way here was helpful, yes, but it still hadn’t fully prepared you for the full scale of corruption in this city.

“People do what they gotta do to make a living here. You understand?” he’d said, glancing at you. “Don’t stare too long or make a big deal about whoever you might see down there.”

That was what he’d said to you, but it was still quite the shock. Police officers were one thing, but the politicians that ran this city were something else entirely. Your hand was tight in your boyfriend’s as he led you through the dimly lit club, this atmosphere much quieter and more intimate than what was going on upstairs.

Oz got you a drink and sat you down in a corner and told you he’d be right back.

You were used to being seen as “Oz’s girl”, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t hate it, but the weight it seemed to hold in the 44 Below was different from the Iceberg Lounge. Most of the people upstairs were casual party goers who just knew Oz as someone managing the club and you as his girlfriend. Down here though…

You were the girlfriend of the man next to Carmine Falcone, and it was the first time that it felt like it carried a significant amount of weight. Most people didn’t even make eye contact with you, and if they did, it either didn’t last for long or was accompanied with a nervous smile...as if they didn’t want to get on your bad side. Strangely enough, it didn’t make you feel powerful or anything of the sort but instead…lonely—isolated. You didn’t think you liked it, but before you could linger on that feeling for a few moments more, your isolation was breached.

“What was Oz thinking sticking you in this corner by yourself?”

The familiar voice made your skin grow cold.

Carmine Falcone was a face you hadn’t stared directly into for a few months, now, and truthfully, you could’ve gone a few more. He didn’t scare you, but that didn’t change the fact that something about him was not only intimidating but constantly reminded you that he wasn’t some warm and fuzzy kind of guy. When you tore your eyes away from the bar, you weren’t surprised to find those dark shades covering his eyes even in this lighting.

You were sure you’d never seen him without them.

He towered over you as he stood at your table, and you almost wanted to stand too just to make this interaction feel more equal. The few times you’d been in Mr. Falcone’s presence, you’d never felt quite equal, and you didn’t know if it was the huge gap in income or authority or just the way he coolly stared at you from behind those shades. In this moment, you reminded yourself to stop being so hard on Oz. You didn’t even work for the man, and he could easily make you feel so small, so you didn’t like to imagine the headspace he put Oz in when his money was on the line.

Reminding yourself that he spoke to you, you cleared your throat.

“He said he’d be right back,” you replied.

You swore that Mr. Falcone wore the hint of a smile on his lips, and you liked it less than the stony expression that was almost always on his face. For a few seconds, it felt like he was privy to some joke you weren’t in on, and you glanced around, feeling more isolated than ever as everyone in the club absolutely refused to look in your direction now.

“He’s upstairs handling something for me,” he told you. “You shouldn’t be waiting for him down here.”

When Mr. Falcone gestured to someone, you shouldn’t have been surprised when Kenzie seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“Get her up to the loft,” the other man told him, a frown on his face behind those shades. “She doesn’t need to be down here with the rest of these people.”

The way he said those last two words made you feel like he looked down on the very men and women working for him and supplying him with business, and that made you frown too. However, once you realized what he’d said to Kenzie before that, it clicked for you that you weren’t going to the club upstairs but instead the Shoreline Lofts, a place you figured was always off limits for you.

You felt it was best not to question it as Kenzie gestured for you to join him, and as you neared him with your drink in hand, you didn’t miss the way Mr. Falcone refused to move, forcing your shoulder to brush against his chest.

“Don’t be a stranger,” your boyfriend’s boss said from behind your back.

You couldn’t even find it in yourself to throw him a fake smile in response.

You stared out over Gotham as your boyfriend hit another billiard ball, the sound drowning out the low conversation he and Mr. Falcone were having. You didn’t particularly care to know what they were talking about, but you had to admit that your curiosity had long been piqued along with your frustration at how long this conversation seemed to last.

One errand turned into an entirely separate dropoff which then turned into a conversation about the details of said dropoff that had long shifted into something else entirely. You reminded yourself that you were here because Oz wanted to try and be around you more, and you accepted that you would much rather be here than at his place wondering where he was at three o’clock in the morning and if he was safe.

He was trying, and that’s what mattered.

When you glanced over, you saw that Oz had his back to you while his boss stood on the other side of the pool table. Like always, those dark shades hid his eyes from view, and while he was engaged in a conversation with Oz, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his gaze was on you. It was a strange thought to have—at least, it was a strange thought to have.

You’d never been around Mr. Falcone as much as you had lately, and you’d found yourself questioning if he’d always been so inquisitive and hovering. Maybe those words were too strong because it wasn’t as if the other man was grilling you every time you were in his presence, but every now and then a question about your relationship with Oz was thrown at you or he’d ask about your job and how you liked it there. You and Mr. Falcone were only a step away from strangers, and he didn’t strike you as the type of man to engage in friendly chats.

“He don’t mean nothing by it, sweetheart,” Oz told you one night. “You’re around a lot more, and he’s just trying to feel you out, you know.”

You had hummed, not quite understanding that, and that was what you’d told him.

“I mean we’ve been together for what? A few years now? I’ve been to his home, I’ve had casual chats with his daughter, you don’t think it’s a little late to start wondering if I can be trusted?”

“It’s different now,” was all your boyfriend said. “You’re around the business more. It’s not the same.”

His words had silenced you that night, your mind instead going to what ‘the business’ entailed and why your sudden presence around it would change things. It once again sparked questions about your relationship with Oz, and what you wanted for your future. You liked the perks that came with his line of work just fine, but you knew better than anyone that the novelty wouldn’t last. A day would come where you’d question if it was truly worth it, and you didn’t want to be in too deep when you finally had that conversation.

Your name was already associated with Oz in certain circles, and your frequent appearances at the 44 Below these days didn’t help. When you came and left with Oz, it was fine. You loved him and always felt safe with him, so you learned to remain unbothered by the way people looked at you when you were next to him. Mr. Falcone was a whole other story…

You detested the nights when Oz got held up, Kenzie being the one to greet you and escort you out or in. Kenzie you didn’t mind all that much, but sometimes it was your boyfriend’s boss instead, and you couldn’t ignore the way you were treated when you were next to him even if you wanted to. You didn’t like the way people eyed you whenever Mr. Falcone guided you to that elevator, his footsteps mirroring your own in a way that made you feel like you were being stalked.

They looked like they didn’t know whether to suck up to you or avoid you at all costs, your proximity to the kingpin bringing out conflicting feelings of fear and possible opportunities.

“You’ll get used to it.”

That was what Mr. Falcone had said to you one night in that elevator, and you hadn’t known what he meant at first, but it clicked somehow with one look at his face. You remembered how unnerved you’d felt that he’d been able to read your thoughts on your face so clearly that night. You hadn’t liked it, at all, looking ahead just as he spoke again.

“The nice jewelry and fancy purses…” you’d tightened your hold on your handbag at that. “...aren’t the only perks that come with this line of work.”

You’d kept your gaze on the elevator doors.

“People start to fear you, respect you, and while you don’t seem like the kind of woman who’d be into that, you’d be surprised at what people will do for you solely for some proximity to you in some way. Anything to get ahead…”

He’d moved closer to you while he said this, and you couldn’t step away fast enough as the elevator stopped, Mr. Falcone’s arm reaching out to make sure the doors stayed open. Fighting to settle your mind, you quietly thanked him, thinking to yourself that you couldn’t get to Oz’s side fast enough.

You’d never cared for Mr. Falcone before, but getting to be around him more had the opposite effect one would think it’d have. The more you got to know him, the less you wanted to be around him, and you told yourself that it was for the obvious reasons. His business was shady and he treated Oz like crap and there was probably even a small element of danger in his presence, but no matter how much you tried to ignore it, he didn’t feel dangerous like Oz was dangerous.

Whenever you were alone with him, it felt painfully obvious that you were a woman and he was a man, and you knew deep down that it stood out to him too.

“Carmine says hello.”

You barely glanced up from the magazine in your lap as Oz’s words reached you, your boyfriend hanging up the phone. You only swallowed, flipping the page and listening as Oz limped towards the kitchen. You tried not to linger on what he said, but pretty soon the words and pictures before you began to go out of focus and you closed the flimsy book.

Oz’s attempts to spend more time with you by whatever means necessary unfortunately resulted in you spending more time with his boss. Granted, it wasn’t like you were around the man for hours, but you were seeing him more often than you ever had before. If he wasn’t there in the loft with Oz then he was greeting you in the 44 Below before making Kenzie escort you upstairs while he and Oz discussed business. You shuddered to think of his attempts at small talk and pleasantries, thinking to yourself how Oz couldn’t see how strange it was that Carmine Falcone was sending his regards to you through Oz.

Your gaze traveled to the vase of flowers on the dining room table, a gift of apology from Oz’s boss to you for keeping your boyfriend so late one night. You’d eyed it for what felt like hours when it was delivered to your door, and Oz’s answer to your question that night hadn’t satisfied you.

“His driver took you home, sweetheart, and you’re with me. Why wouldn’t he know where you live?”

The man may not have scared you, but that didn’t mean you relished the thought of being so comfortable and casual with him. Had you known that tagging along with Oz more would birth whatever this new development was, you would’ve never agreed to it, but as it were, you felt like it was too late to do anything about it. You feared that seeing Oz less wouldn’t change this new trajectory.

Of course, had you known how things would eventually end up, you would’ve long resigned yourself to never seeing Oz again, at all.

You should’ve known that something was off when Oz came by completely quiet one day. He never hesitated to jump right into whatever happened at the club that you just had to hear about. The change was noticeable, and when you’d asked him if he was alright, he’d given you a solid ‘yeah’. You’d tried to ignore the look on his face and his strange demeanor, but you knew the truth.

Oz was lying.

“Sweetheart…”

His voice was softer than normal from over your shoulder as you cleaned off your bed, and when you looked at him, he didn’t look like his normal cocky self. He looked almost…defeated. It was a strange thing to witness because Oz was never defeated even when he ‘lost’. You loved that about him, but at the moment, he seemed so unrecognizable.

“We gotta talk.”

He jerked his head, and although a little unsure and nervous, you sat down on the edge of your bed. Your boyfriend stood in the doorway for what felt like too long before eventually limping towards you, hesitating a bit and then sitting down too. The length of the silence made you more uneasy, and although you and Oz had been having a few problems lately, you were suddenly hit with the possibility of him breaking up with you.

You swallowed, voicing your thoughts.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Oz frowned almost as soon as you said it, and that relieved you.

“No, no, doll, never that,” he hurried to reassure you, and you let out a sigh of relief.

However, you wondered if that was premature because nothing about Oz’s demeanor was comforting.

“Look…Carmine is offering me a chance to move up…”

His words made you blink, and you eventually nodded.

“...okay. That’s good, right? That’s what you want…?”

Oz let out a sharp laugh.

“Hell, yeah, it’s what I want,” he told you. “More money, more authority, and I’ll officially be his right hand man. Hell, the way he’s painting it, there’s a chance I might take over things eventually instead of that lazy son of his…”

You wanted to give Oz a small and encouraging smile, but a heavy ‘but’ lingered in the air. This sounded like everything Oz ever wanted, and you wanted to be happy for him, but at the moment, he didn’t even seem happy for himself. You reached for his arm, gently squeezing it.

“Do you think I don’t approve or…?”

Your boyfriend shook his head, and you only grew more confused.

“I don’t got the position yet.”

You stared at him, and you watched as Oz rubbed his forehead, and you were sure you could never recall a time you’d seen him so…antsy. You felt safe around Oz because he was always so sure, so confident, and now he was none of those things, and it was a strange place to be in for you.

“...but that’s where you come in.”

“Me?”

Those words threw you all the way off, and a feeling of dread settled in your stomach as Oz took your hand.

“Carmine…”

You studied Oz’s face, trying to decipher what he was going to say before he said it.

“He likes you, sweetheart.”

You stared at him and he stared at you.

“I…don’t follow. What does that have to do with–?”

“Do you want me to get this job?”

You sighed, choosing to be truthful while being careful with your words.

“I want what you want, and I know you really want this, so…yeah,” you honestly told him.

Your boyfriend slowly nodded at your answer, and you watched him swipe his tongue between his lips.

“Look, I’m not saying how far you have to go, but…Carmine likes you, and if you just make yourself available to–.”

Oz cut himself off as you jumped to your feet, your eyes comically wide and lips parted as you stared at him in shock. Understanding finally dawned on you, and you looked at Oz as if he’d lost his mind. That dreaded feeling in your stomach had morphed into full blown nausea, and you were positive you were going to be sick.

When he said that Carmine liked you, you didn’t think… You’d thought it was his way of saying the man was no longer suspicious of you, that you were trusted now and he’d stop asking so many questions and paying so much attention to you. Not once had it ever been a possibility to you that he meant…

You opened and closed your mouth.

“Is this a joke? Oz, tell me you’re not serious,” you whispered.

Your boyfriend’s face twisted into a deep frown, that scary frown that you hated.

“You think this is easy for me? Huh?” he threw at you, joining you and standing too.

“Oh my God, you’re serious,” you breathed, feeling like you’d gotten the wind knocked out of you as you looked away.

“This is a big deal for me,” Oz told you. “Do you know how much this could change things? I’m not asking you to…sleep with the guy…”

You faced him again, expression twisted into disbelief at what you were hearing.

“Just get dolled up like you do and let ‘em treat you. Make him feel real special, you know,” he waved his hands, and you blinked back tears.

“Oz,” you hissed, disgusted. “I am your girlfriend. Not some girl at the club who charges half a grand per person to get passed around. I am your girlfriend!”

“You don’t think I know that? Huh? Wh-what you wanted me to tell Carmine no? Huh?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you tearfully looked away.

“I told him I’d think about it…”

“I can’t believe this,” you choked out, rushing out of your bedroom.

You could hear your boyfriend’s footsteps behind you.

“Carmine Falcone is not the kind of guy you just say no to, sweetheart. You think this is something I’d ask you to do all willy nilly?”

You paced around your apartment, actually feeling like you were going to be sick as Oz continued to talk, as he continued to plead his case for why you should basically whore yourself out to his boss.

“...and Carmine could have any girl he wants. If he wanted some easy piece of ass, there’s girls at the club for that,” you heard him say, his voice sounding muffled by the loud ringing in your ear. “...but he expressed interest in you.”

“...because he’s sick! How do you not see that, Oz?”

Your boyfriend shook his head at you, a sneer on his lips and a scathing remark on his tongue no doubt when you beat him to it.

“He’s dangling this position in front of your face and telling you it can be yours so long as you let him humiliate you and treat me like I'm not even human!”

“Doll–.”

“It doesn’t matter what I agree to because he already won,” you choked out, shaking your head at him. “He tells you that he wants your girlfriend, and you didn’t tell him no.”

You stared at Oz with tears in your eyes, unable to believe this was happening.

“You didn’t tell him no, Oz, he…” you scoffed. “You’ve shown him that you would do anything for his approval, anything to be where he is.”

Your chest and throat were so tight, and you wondered if this was what heartbreak felt like. The silence in your apartment was loud, and you could barely stand to look at Oz, in shock that he would even come to you with this. You sniffed, and when Oz stepped towards you, you moved back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“...and what happens if I refuse? You can kiss this promotion goodbye?”

His silence was deafening, and you let out a humorless chuckle.

Your eyes passed over the dying flowers on your table, and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin. You stared at them for what felt like the longest time, reminding yourself that Mr. Falcone never seemed the type for small talk and genuine pleasantries. There was always something ulterior with him, and you felt sick to your stomach as you thought about every time you were alone with him.

“Get out,” you whispered to Oz.

It seemed like he didn’t hear you at first, but with a quickness, you stomped towards your table and almost immediately after, the vase of flowers was airborne. Oz ducked just in time, and you only screamed for him to get out two more times before he finally accepted that you were serious. You were right behind him as he left your apartment, taking off every piece of jewelry he’d given you that you were currently wearing.

“In case it needs to be said… We’re done,” you spat. “Find some other way to get your promotion.”

You slammed your door shut behind him, unconcerned with how it may have disturbed your neighbors.

Your breakup with Oz hit you much harder than you thought it would. After all, he did a shitty thing, and in that moment, you were positive that you hated him. However, once the dust cleared and everything had settled, you realized that hate and love did indeed require the same level of passion, and you’d cried yourself to sleep two weeks in a row.

Oz was so far from perfect, but you loved him, and while he was capable of so many things, you’d never considered he’d be capable of even the things you didn’t want him to be capable of. You thought that he loved you too, and maybe on some level he did—choosing to give him some credit—but it was plain as day that he would never love you more than he loved the future where he wasn’t the underdog anymore.

You’d foolishly thought that you took priority over power.

Every phone call of his went ignored, and the only time you texted him was with a date and time when he could come get the rest of his things. You, on the other hand, didn’t want anything you’d left behind at his place. You wanted his shit gone, and nothing returned to you that would make you think of him in his absence. In the span of a month, your life as you knew it had turned completely upside down.

You’d been on edge all day when that knock finally sounded at your door. You weren’t concerned with falling into old habits, but just how painful it’d be to face Oz again after that night. Some days you still found it hard to believe that he’d been so willing to sell you out so easily. You’d never forget the way he’d talked to you, like it was just assumed you’d go along with it because you wanted better for him.

It ate you up inside to think that he didn’t know you, at all.

You’d rehearsed how this would go probably a million times since he’d agreed on the date and time, but everything—every word—you’d practiced was in vain because it wasn’t your ex-boyfriend standing on the other side of the door once you’d opened it. If you’d been holding something, you would’ve for sure dropped it as you stared at the face of Carmine Falcone.

Funnily enough, you hadn’t given the man much thought since the breakup. After all, Oz was the one who’d betrayed you, hurt you so deeply. Mr. Falcone hadn’t done anything surprising, only being the man you knew him to be—a man who always wanted more and used his money and power to get it. You’d never pegged him as a man with morals—with a code—so as much as it disgusted you to realize what he’d been plotting this whole time, you weren’t blindsided by the knowledge that he wanted to fuck his subordinate’s girlfriend and was willing to play dirty to make it happen.

“Where is Oz?” you finally breathed.

“May I come in?” he responded, completely ignoring your question.

Your lips parted, an immediate no on your lips when you only just noticed the figures behind him. You narrowed your eyes at the sight of Kenzie and some other man you didn’t recognize in the hall, and the nausea you felt that night with Oz was almost nothing in comparison to how you felt at the sight before you. Oz was supposed to get his things, but instead his boss showed up at your door—the same boss who was the catalyst for your disastrous breakup in the first place.

You licked your lips.

“I feel like if I say no…you’re going to do what you want, anyway.”

Mr. Falcone didn’t respond to that, but the corner of his lips curved upwards so subtly that if you weren’t so used to his stony countenance, you would’ve missed it. His only response was to move towards you, and against what you wanted, you moved out of his way. You stood at the door as he brushed by you, and your gaze darted between Kenzie and the other man. You were sure there was an almost pleading look in your eyes as you gazed at the familiar man, but Kenzie stared right through you.

“You can close the door.”

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did just that, staring at the wood for a while before turning around.

“Oz…?” you repeated.

“He’s handling something for me.”

“Of course, he is,” you sighed. “I take it you came all this way just to get his things for him?”

When you looked at him, his back was to you, and you didn’t like the way he was taking in the layout of your apartment. Your eyes darted towards the kitchen, weighing your options if you actually managed to kill this man. Of course, that was assuming you even made it to the kitchen. When you looked at Mr. Falcone again, his gaze was on you, now, and you knew you’d been caught.

He chuckled to himself, so low that it barely reached your ears.

“Let’s talk…”

You frowned when he gestured for you to sit down, and his lips twitched again when you refused to move. He made the decision to sit down first, and you reluctantly followed his lead. That feeling that you always felt whenever you were alone with him washed over you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I know that Oz hurt you.”

You gave him a look at how he chose to start this conversation, the elephant in the room just casually lingering between you.

“...he didn’t do it by himself,” you replied.

Mr. Falcone seemed to weigh that in his mind, tilting his head from side to side.

“That’s debatable.”

“How do you figure that?”

“He could’ve told me no.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he acknowledged it outloud, and you chuckled.

“We both know that’s not true,” you whispered. “No one denies Carmine Falcone.”

You said the words mockingly, and you didn’t miss the way all humor drained from his face.

“You know how badly Oz wants to make a name for himself. An actual legitimate name for himself where he’s respected and revered and not seen as some joke, and you took advantage of that,” you spat. “You saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone, and you took it.”

The man before you didn’t respond right away, and you watched him stand, making you nervous. You only started to relax when he made his way towards the bar Oz had given you as a gift one year, the damned thing installed into the wall so you couldn’t even give it back. You said nothing as Mr. Falcone fixed himself a drink in your apartment with your stuff.

“Would you like one?”

“No,” you immediately answered, somehow still shocked at his audacity.

He ignored the malice in your tone and took his time, and the whole time you just kept wondering why he was here. You watched him take a sip of his creation, and it wasn’t lost on you that he was standing while you were sitting, and he was making you feel small once again.

“You said I saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone…”

You rolled your eyes.

“You own this city, everyone knows it, and you saw an opportunity to get what you want just because you wanted it all the while humiliating both Oz and myself and making him prove his loyalty to you,” you slowly told him. “I’m sure the breakup that gave him more time to devote himself to your business was just a bonus.”

Mr. Falcone responded by taking a sip of the drink he’d made, humming.

“You didn’t consider any other motives…?”

You watched him make his way across the room to sit back down in the seat across from you, eyeing you behind those dark shades as you frowned at his question. No. You hadn’t, and truthfully why would you? You couldn’t think of any other reason for why he did what he did. Part of you even considered that he didn’t even really want you so much as he wanted something Oz had.

“Hmm?” he wondered at your silence, and you only shook your head.

You watched him finish his drink.

“I didn’t expect Oz to say yes–.”

“I don’t believe that,” you cut him off, and the look he fixed you with didn’t scare you one bit.

You stared at each other for a few moments before he continued.

“I do want you, that much is true,” he told you, making you uncomfortable under his unwavering stare. “You’re beautiful and you take no shit and I see why Oz pursued you so hard.”

You didn’t like that he knew the details of how you and Oz began.

“I can have anything I want, you’re right, but even still…I didn’t expect Oz to say yes.”

Oddly enough, you were sure you believed him now, and you didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Mr. Falcone had been testing him…and Oz hadn’t passed.

“...but now we both know what you mean to him.”

His words forced tears to your eyes, but his next words made them spill over altogether.

“If I were in Oz’s position, I would’ve told me to go to hell.”

Your blood ran cold as you stared at him, your brows pulling together at his interesting choice of words. Mr. Falcone wasn’t in Oz’s position and never would be, but the more you stared at him and the longer the silence dragged on…you realized that he wanted to be. You looked away from him, standing on shaky legs.

“Whatever Oz gifted you, whatever he did for you, I can make it all look like child’s play,” he offered, and you felt your stomach churn.

There was no telling what Mr. Falcone would’ve done had Oz just said no, but because Oz was Oz, he hadn’t said no, and that had produced a lose-lose situation for him. Oz said yes, and that meant that either Mr. Falcone would get what he wanted—even if only for a night—or you would leave Oz, and an opportunity would present itself for him to still get what he wanted.

“I wasn’t with Oz for his money,” you sneered, tears kissing your eyes as you glared at the other man.

“...but I’m sure it didn’t hurt.”

You actually laughed at that, the sound lacking humor and filled with so much bitterness and frustration. Of all the things to take from this situation, what stood out the most was how absolutely misunderstood you were. Oz actually thought you were the kind of woman who would sacrifice her dignity and morals just to help him get ahead, and Mr. Falcone actually thought you were the kind of woman who could be bought.

It was an upsetting mix of maddening and frustrating.

“Get out,” you heard yourself whispering, feeling a sense of deja vu. “Take Oz’s things, and get out of my house.”

You watched Mr. Falcone straighten in his seat, reaching up to undo the buttons of his suit jacket.

“No.”

You blinked at him, not expecting that but also not surprised by his response either.

“Fine,” you breathed, making your way towards the hook on the wall where your purse hung.

You didn’t care if he had a hundred men outside of your door, you weren’t staying in this apartment with a man who basically offered to buy access to you for a night. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he used your breakup as an opportunity to buy permanent access to you. You were reminded that Mr. Falcone felt dangerous to you in a way Oz didn’t, and just when your hand landed on the doorknob, he showed you why.

You didn’t even have a chance to scream, a choked gasp getting caught in your throat at the feel of silk material pulling against your neck. He tightened it the more you pulled on it, and the soles of your feet kicked against the door, the shoes you’d just slid in falling off. Every attempt to dig your feet into the floor was in vain, and when your legs started to fail you, only then did Mr. Falcone let you go.

It all happened so fast that when you finally registered the dangerous position you found yourself in, it was too late.

“You’re really going to make me do this, huh,” he casually mused, his deep voice reaching your ears as he caged you in his arms between him and the floor.

Your vision was blurry, but you took note of the way he’d slipped out of his suit jacket, the first few buttons of his shirt undone and his tie…missing. The tips of your fingers grazed against that silk material that was still around your neck, and you tried so hard not to linger on how seamlessly he’d done that, like it was second nature to him.

His warm body was on top of yours, nestled between your legs, and you mustered up enough strength to dig your nails into his face. The scream he let out satisfied you, and when your knee came up between you both, it allowed for you to slide out from under him. Your throat felt sore as you crawled away, struggling to get to your feet when the tie still around your neck was yanked on once again. He tightened it around his hand, pulling you against him, and a winded squeak left your lips as he forced you to bend over the bar.

You pulled and clawed at the silk material, fighting to breathe, all the while he fumbled between you both with his free hand.

One of your hands let the tie go to drag your nails along the wood of the bar when Carmine Falcone forced his cock into you. His hips slammed against your backside as he fucked you, and you were caught between trying to loosen the material around your neck, and fighting to find something to hang onto and ground yourself with.

You could feel his face pressed into your hair, breathing you in with every thrust. The bar beneath you trembled from the force of his movements, and your vision started to blur again from the lack of oxygen. You clawed at your throat with one hand and at the bar with the other. The man behind you seemed to be in his own world, lost in the feel of you wrapped around him.

When dark spots started to appear in your vision—almost as if he knew that—Carmine loosened his hold on the tie around your neck. The rush of air into your lungs had you gasping, and to your horror, he replaced the tie with his arm. His arm hooked around your neck and forced you back against him as he leaned back a bit.

The only sound in the apartment was heavy breathing—yours from trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible and him from pushing himself into you over and over again.

“Oz felt like such a big man with you on his arm,” he said against your skin. “It almost made me feel sorry for you.”

You hit your hand against the bar.

“I don’t need you on my arm to feel like a big man. That’s the difference between us…”

He pushed you back down against the bar again, a hand harshly pressing into the small of your back to keep you in place. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried to, distraught at the harsh lesson on why you should fear Carmine Falcone. It’s just that this never occurred to you…or maybe it did on some level, and you were too afraid to acknowledge what it was.

Oz would never do this. There was a softness to him that Carmine lacked, and maybe that was what you’d sensed all this time, that Carmine was the kind of man without any limits. That he was the type to hurt anyone—man or woman—but just in whatever way he knew would hurt the most…no matter how depraved.

When he came inside of you, you didn’t even try to hold back the disgusted sob that left your lips. You almost collapsed to the floor when he pulled away from you, your shirt—one that Oz had left behind, you realized—fell back into place as you heard him righting himself. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you almost didn’t want to believe what’d just happened.

Funnily enough, Carmine was gentle in sliding his tie from around your neck, the fabric whispering against your skin as he did so, and you shuddered when his fingers grazed your throat in the process. You didn’t doubt that a nasty ring would color your skin in the morning. When his lips found your hair again, you shrunk away from him, still trembling from his assault.

His parting words finally made you throw up what you’d been pushing down for weeks.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

#carmine falcone #Carmine Falcone x reader #mark strong #oswald cobb x reader #oz cobb #the penguin #the batman #dc comics #dc fanfic #penguin hbo

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colorlessjay · 3 days ago

Note

Counter to the "Dean teaches Cas how to shoot":

Singer Salvage, Feb 27th 2010

Dean steps out the back porch, headed to the lot. Frozen gravel crunching underboot.

"Come on, man," he calls, "now that you're earthbound you need more tricks up your sleeve."

"Not a man." Cas grumbles, but follows.

Dean heaves a sigh, stifles it into the neck of the beer bottles he's toting. "Figure of speech, alright?"

They come to a stop between two mismatched walls of rusting car wrecks. Dean takes another swig, then points at the assortment of old rims hanging off the wire fence, a good 30 yards away. "Man or angel, time for some target practice."

Dean takes the gun from inside his coat. He shuffles closer to Castiel and nudges him to raise his right arm. Dean places the gun in Cas' slender fingers - not thinking about that right now thankyouverymuch - and slowly cocks it for him. Cas' storm blue eyes follow the movement, unflinching.

Dean leaves the gun in Cas' grip, and clears his throat. "So, uhm. Go ahead. Hit the target."

Cas stands there, arm out and gun trained. For a moment, he flickers his gaze back to Dean, off his side. Dean gulps down some more beer.

Then, in one fluid motion, Cas bends his arm and throws the gun.

The. The whole gun.

It goes flying at incredible speed, straight onto the bullseye - a loud BANG indents the rim, CRASH - a rain of glass from the shattered windshield above their left, hit by the stray bullet.

Dean stares. Beer in hand. Blinks.

"I hit the target." Cas rumbles, candid.

"You. Uhm. Uh. You sure did, bud." Dean manages to let out.

"Are we done yet? I have matters to attend."

"You know what, we'll, uh, we'll work on your - everything, next time. Sure." Dean drains his beer.

They walk back to the house after picking up the gun - Dean will have to throw it away, barrel's dented. Their voices cut through the crisp air and the metal stacked all around them. "It is a most inconvenient method of defense. And you don't seem to carry enough guns on your hunts, for that matter." "You really haven't been paying attention, uh?" "Of course. I am very attentive to what matters." "Like what" "Your heart rate seems to spike when it comes to guns." "Well, duh. They're dangerous." "No, even before. When you gave it to me, it wasn't dangerous yet." "Pal—"

[grabs you by your fucking skull]

I want to consume your brain (positive)

#castiel #dean winchester #destiel #supernatural #deancas #spn

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dareonclearwater · 16 hours ago

Text

The stench was horrible. Charred meat, burning hair, melted plastic. Smoke and ash and cinders. The amplified, distorted laughter of the towering, battlesuit-clad villain echoed across the empty square as the last panicked civilians streamed out. He fired a few flamethrower blasts into the air in celebration.

"This is Inferno's city now! Prepare to enter an era of pain unlike any you've ever known!"

"Mm, no, I think that's quite enough." Picking his way across the scorched pavement was a man in bright red tophat and tailcoat, crisp white gloves already besmirched with ash.

"You're... Toyman, aren't you? A small-time object controller. You can't possibly be making a power play? Against ME?"

Toyman stooped and picked something up off the ground. A charred scrap of fabric, metallic gold. A fragment of a cape. He closed his eyes.

"Did you know, none of my toys ever went to waste. After every fight, they were carefully swept up and donated. Children's hospitals, orphanages, thrift stores, foster agencies. I have to imagine every child in the city knows how to play jacks now. I started using other toys to get them some variety, but jacks and balls are just so versatile."

Inferno leveled one of his smoking flamethrowers at Toyman. The pilot light sparked and kicked on. "What are you babbling about?"

"Golden was the only one who knew my secret." he closed the scrap of cape in his fist. "He stopped in to see me in prison, said he'd been trying to track where I stole my toys from. Very hard to do, because I hadn't."

"Oh just die already, you're distracting me." The heavy trigger thunked. Nothing happened. Inferno pulled it again. The fuel line on the flamethrower ruptured, spraying jellied fuel down the side of his battlesuit. "...WHAT?"

"You see, I'm not an object controller, I'm a creator." Toyman held up a bright pink rubber ball that hadn't been there moments ago, and pointed to the one now lodged in the barrel of the flamethrower. "And I can put them anywhere."

"I can still just crush you- OW!" The massive arm swung forward, then recoiled as if stung, moving nearly randomly as Inferno's hand flailed inside the control gauntlet.

"Oh, did you run into a handful of jacks in there? Yeah, it's not great if you slip and fall on them either. You see, I like having fun, I like just playing with people. And the heroes were perfect, great fun, understood the game. But if you play too rough, if you break my toys, I'm going to get angry."

The battlesuit slumped to its knees, a strained choking sound coming from the speakers.

"I prefer rubber balls to marbles, but in this case it's easier to fit them in. I hope you have the space to cough them out in, but those suits don't have a lot of elbow room, in general."

The suit jerked, and a cheery horn played from the speakers.

"Oh, looks like you found the jack-in-the-box I put in front of the hatch controls. Sadly they always conform to real-world expectations, it would have been nice to be able to shove one up your- Well, no, let's keep this family friendly. I have a name to uphold."

Blithely, Toyman turned away from the twitching, gurgling battlesuit. He carefully folded the scrap of burnt golden cape and tucked it into his breast pocket. "I swear," he remarked as the battlesuit stilled. "If I have to go straight because of this I am going to be very cross."

You pretend to be a small-time villain. At worst, you annoy the local supers but your crimes never hurt anyone. All fun and games until things change when a truly sadistic super villain invades your turf and murders a few of the supers. No one has seen the extent of your true powers until now.

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criminalyapping · 2 days ago

Text

due for trouble | baby shower

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: listen yet again idk who is working at the hospital rn because they’re all here but suspension of disbelief please!! i want them all here 😤 also timelines? continuity? who’s that? how many weeks pregnant? idk

also yes i did make an entire pinterest board with inspo and now my pinterest thinks I’m pregnant probably but take a look if you want some visuals!!

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, age gap, language

< part 13 | part 15 coming soon!

“Robby!” you greet, opening the door of Jack’s house after a few quick knocks on the door. “Come in, thank you so much for coming early!”

“Of course,” he agrees, stepping in.

“I am so glad you’re here, Jack is not being helpful right now,” you laugh, “he’s dusting the baseboards and there’s still decorations to put up! I was about to get out the step ladder and do it myself.”

“Well, let’s keep you off the step ladder,” he jokes. “What’s first, boss?” he asks, clapping his hands together, ready to work.

“Okay,” you agree, leading Robby to the kitchen. “These are all in piles,” you explain, gesturing to the decor littering the kitchen counters and dining table, “these are for the living room, the front door, the table, and the kitchen. Um, the food will be here at 12:30, I still need to get ready, make the drinks, and-“ Robby cuts you off with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Well, it’s 12:15, why don’t you go get ready and I’ll figure out the decorations.” he smiles.

“12:15!?” you stress, “oh, I lost track of time! Thank you, thank you Robby.”

“Any time, go.” he urges.

You quickly turn, walking down the hall towards the bedroom, where your outfit sits and the bathroom awaits.

“Jack!” you call to him, still hiding somewhere with a duster. “Go help Robby!”

“Yes ma’am!” he calls back, seemingly from the office.

Jack appears next to Robby, who’s picked up the first pile of decor to inspect it.

“Hey brother,” he greets.

“Hey man,” Robby smiles, “you know the vision?”

“Yes I sure do,” Jack laughs, “this is about all she’s talked about for a week.”

“Well, let’s get to work.” he smiles.

The two work quickly, setting up table clothes, plates, napkins, cups, banners, and seemingly a million other items of decor.

They hang garland over the windows, put a sign on Jack’s porch so people know they’re at the right place, and help set up the food when it arrives a few minutes later.

Every couple of minutes, you pop your head out of the bedroom, looking around and shouting a “how’s it going?” before being ushered back into the bathroom to finish.

“Stop worrying, it’s going fine,” Jack assures, pointing back down the hallway.

“You know that’s not going that happen,” you laugh, jokingly digging your heels into the floor.

Jack pokes you in the side, laughing as you help and jerk away from the ticklish motion and glaring with mirth as you walk back to the bathroom to finish your makeup.

Jack returns to Robby’s side, the smile remaining.

“You know,” Robby starts, “I really like seeing you like this.” he notes.

“Yeah?” Jack murmurs.

“Yeah,” Robby agrees, “you’re different, man. I don’t know,” he ponders, “you seem happy.”

“I am happy.” Jack agrees.

Robby smiles, squeezing Jack’s shoulder.

“Alright,” Robby changes the subject, “What’s left?” he asks.

“Uhh,” Jack thinks, looking around his home and mentally ticking off boxes.

“I think drinks is all,” he says.

You come out a few minutes later, hair and makeup done and the dress you had picked out, tight and stretchy enough to show off your steadily growing bump.

“Gorgeous,” Jack tells you, one hand going to your bump as he gives you a sweet kiss.

“You’ve got some lip gloss,” you joke as he pulls away.

“The color working for me?” he asks, striking a pose.

“Looks great,” you laugh. You turn, taking a look around the rooms and checking that everything is where you imagined.

“It looks perfect out here,” you smile, “thank you both so much.” you say to the men in the kitchen.

“Pink!” Robby notes, gesturing to your dress, “does that mean what I think it means?” he asks giddily.

“Sure does,” Jack confirms with a smile. Robby grins even bigger, pulling him into a hug.

“Wow,” he marvels, “Jack Abbot, girl dad.”

“I’m getting a head start with this lip gloss,” he jokes, still not having wiped it off.

“Congratulations,” Robby says to you, also pulling you into a hug.

The doorbell rings, and a small snap of anxiety peels through you.

“Ah!” you yell, pulling back from Robby, “people are here.” you say to Jack, pulling him towards the door.

Jack opens the door to your best friends; Emily, Jiya, and Jada, all seeing you and immediately screaming in joy, rushing at you and pulling you into a group hug.

“Oh my god, look at you!” Emily shouts.

After releasing you, the quickly turn to Jack and pull him into a hug as well.

“Hi ladies,” he greets.

“Oh my god, it is so cute in here!” Jada gushes, looking around.

“Well come on, look around, um, there’s food and drinks and snacks, and help yourself!” you tell them, having to return to the door as the bell rings again.

All at once, it seems, Jacks modest townhome is bursting at the seams with people. You meet more of Jack’s coworkers, he meets some of yours along with some friends from college you’ve kept in touch with.

People continue to filter in for about 20 minutes, each greeting the two of you and then entering to mingle.

“Oh, look at you,” a blonde woman introduced to you as Dana marvels, taking you in. “Jack, how did you manage this?” she says with a laugh, gripping your arms after she gave you a hug.

“I ask myself that every day, Dana.” he chuckles.

She finds Robby in the fray and beelines to him, undoubtedly digging up all the information she can.

You meet his night-shift coworkers, Drs Ellis and Shen, who you’ve heard much about but have never met.

Jack had told you about the dramatic way he had invited them, giving you quite a laugh.

“Congratulations,” Dr. Shen tells you after introductions, then immediately turns toward the kitchen.

“Thank you!” you call after him.

Dr. Ellis is now in front of you and Jack alone, and she’s looking at you like she’s trying to figure you out.

“Yeah, congratulations!” she says with a smile.

“Thank you so much! And thank you for coming, I know 1pm is prime night shift sleeping hours.” you thank.

“Oh of course,” she agrees, “you find out your coworker is having a baby, you want to come and learn more.” she laughs.

“Well, due in December, completely healthy, all that fun stuff!” you tell her. “Gave me quite a run for my money the first couple of weeks, I thought I would never enjoy a meal again!” you laugh.

“Girl or boy?” she asks.

“Well, we have little prediction cards so we’ll tell everyone later and see who was right!” you say, pointing at a stack of papers on the coffee table.

You’ve greeted and chatted with everyone, and are finally able to take a breath.

“You hungry?” Jack asks. You nod with a smile.

“Let me get you some stuff,” he offers, “stay put.”

He leaves your side with a kiss.

You’re caught up with your friends, laughing at a story Jada is telling when he returns, holding out a plate piled with food.

“Thank you,” you smile, tilting your head up for another kiss, which he drops on your lips happily.

He leaves yet again, off to gossip with his coworkers as you get to work on your food.

“Ugh, he is so perfect.” Emily sighs.

You nod around a mouthful.

“I kind of won the jackpot with him.” you smile, “pun not intended.”

Your friends laugh loudly, filling your chest with warmth.

“Where do I find one?” Emily asks.

“A bar, I guess,” you laugh.

“Is that where you guys met?” someone asks from beside you. You turn, finding a group of Dana and some day shift doctors. If your memory works, you think their names are Heather and Samira.

They move over slightly, joining the four of you where you’re standing.

“Mm-hmm,” you agree, quickly swallowing your mouthful of food.

“He was sitting at a bar playing games on his phone,” you tell them. “And I just had to say something. Who goes to a bar to stare at their phone?” you joke.

“What did he say?” Heather asks.

“Something about it being peaceful for him,” you joke. “We chatted for a second, then I went back to my friends,” you explain, gesturing to the three in front of you. “But I caught him before he left.”

They smile at the happy tone of your voice.

“How long have you been dating?” Samira asks.

You laugh, “How many weeks pregnant am I?” you joke.

You see as the information settles into their brains, making the connection before they start laughing.

You join in, not embarrassed and able to see the humor in the situation.

“Oh my god, Jack Abbot,” Dana says, almost doubled over from laughing so hard.

“You would think a doctor knows that condoms expire,” you add with a chuckle.

The group dissolves into laughs one more time.

“Oh, I like you,” Dana says through her laughs.

Jack appears at your side then, called over by the loud laughter from the group.

“How’s it going over here?” he asks.

“I’m just airing out your dirty laundry.” you tell him.

“Of course,” he agrees, wrapping an arm around you waist. “Like what?”

“Just make sure to buy a new box of condoms after the baby makes their arrival.” Heather laughs.

A blush slides over Jack’s face as he chuckles with the group.

“Wouldn’t change a thing,” he mumbles, loud enough for everyone to hear, as he presses his face into the side of yours, giving you a kiss on the cheek as he pulls back.

Jacks coworkers smile indulgently at the sight.

The party continues, with cake and desserts being eaten, gifts being opened, and laughter being shared.

You truly do feel showered with love and well-wishes from everyone in attendance. Having your baby has turned from an abstract idea into something much more tangible. As you hold baby clothes, diapers, and all the gifts that were generously given, it seeps into you. In just a few months, you’ll hold a little baby that you made, with the responsibility of loving and caring for them.

Everyone is delighted to learn that you’re having a baby girl, and as the hours slip by, the guests start to slowly filter out the door.

“You have a good time?” Jack asks as the last few people left, leaving Emily, Jada, and Jiya who volunteered for clean-up duty.

“The best,” you gush with a wide smile. “Oh, Jack it was perfect.”

“I’m glad, honey.” he smiles. “Now let’s get this stuff down and cleaned up.”

“Alright, let’s go.” you agree.

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bluewxrld07 · 16 hours ago

Text

Stained Glass - Final Part

Lando Norris X Artist!Reader

Summary: A lot can happen during the Spanish GP weekend. What happens when Y/N finally has a chance alone with Lando?

Warning(s): Angst, crying, confessions, soft Lando, makeup, allusions to smut, flangst, fluff, Max being an airhead

It was race day.

Well, the morning of Raceday.

Specifically, two in the morning.

Y/N could not sleep a wink, her head not allowing any ounce of silence as she lay there in the hotel bed. She couldn't cry, she couldn't not cry. Her face was puffy, red, and swollen. Not just from tears, but from rubbing at her face.

Ever since she left the dinner last night, she had been doing nothing but thinking.

It didn't occur to her that not only did he most likely keep it anonymous to keep his name away from the crowd, but most likely did it to give her the moment she had waited so long for.

At the same time, she couldn't just let it slide. Not after the conversation she had with her boss the night before the gala.

When they were preparing the gallery, her boss had noticed that she seemed more glum. More blue.

"Mon ami, you seem upset. Pourquoi si bleu?" (Why so blue?)

Y/N sighs and shrugs while stepping back to look at the angle the painting hangs. "Just am, I guess."

Her boss frowns before coming up to her. "What happened?"

Y/N closes her eyes, trying to hold the tears back from falling. "Lando said some things a couple of nights ago about me. About my job and what I do. Basically made it sound like I was a joke, and didn't have a true career."

Her boss' face turns into a confused frown. "Why would he say such things? He's seen how hard you work."

She shrugs her shoulders, going back over to fix the paintings once more. "Don't know. I left before I could hear any excuses."

The older woman tuts at the boy, walking up behind Y/N.

"Oh non, ça ne fera tout simplement pas l'affaire," (Oh no, that just won't do) she says softly, squeezing the young one's shoulder in assurance.

"I don't know what to do."

The older one nods in understanding. "Don't forgive him, if that's going on in your head," she admits while shaking her head. "That boy said what he said because deep down, it's how he feels about it. He said it out of envy and jealousy. You don't need someone like that in your life, mon ami. He's going to use whatever he can to pay to keep you around. Just to prove his money will solve anything."

That made Y/N freeze, turning to look at her boss. The woman showed nothing but seriousness in her expression.

"You think he would do that?"

The lady hums with a nod. "All men are the same when they have money to throw," she says while walking over to one of the sculptures behind them to adjust. "They just expect that if they throw a mill or two at something, it's going to fix the problem they caused."

Y/N frowned in confusion, letting it sink in that she might be right.

Even though it was Lando, he would never do that.

But her emotions were getting the best of her, making her believe that no matter how well she knew Lando that there could always be that chance. Especially after hearing him bash her career. People can always change, but some people, in the most unfortunate ways. Maybe that was what Lando was becoming.

"You want to make a name for yourself," her boss says once more. "It's best to keep your name away from his. Otherwise, he will dim your light."

Deep down the more she thought about it, up until now, he had done nothing to prove that he wanted to take that spotlight from her. Not one thing.

So maybe Lando wasn't any different. He was the same humble man she fell for all those years back.

She finally lets out a huff as she can tell she won't be sleeping much that night, slipping on her sandals, grabbing her phone, and the hotel key.

She closed her door silently, not wanting to disturb any other guests on her floor. Turning around to walk down the hallway and towards the elevator. When she was about to press the button, the doors opened up before she could even get the chance.

Her head snapped up to make sure she let enough room through for whoever was getting off, the other person's head snapping up as well but stuttering in their steps.

"Y/N,"

Her arms came to cross around herself, not knowing how to feel in that moment. Her emotions were everywhere.

He was still in his outfit from dinner, the stains from the drink she poured on him earlier that night visible on his button-up.

"Lando,"

The pair just stared at one another for a few moments before he nodded curtly at her and walked off the elevator. That makes her snap out of it and walk into the elevator, not missing the way his cologne lingered in the space.

His head turned to her with a look she couldn't read before his head turned back around to walk down the hallway.

Before the elevator door was about to shut, she stopped it. Not knowing what was convincing her to do so. "Do you want to come walk with me?" she sputters out, making him freeze in his tracks and look back at her.

"What?"

She sighs. "I was going to go for a walk. Clear my head. I was going to see if you wanted to join me," her voice showing her nerves in the soft tone she was using.

Lando felt his own gaze soften at her words, not knowing whether to feel shocked or confused.

He motioned to his outfit. "I'm a bit overdressed," he jokes lightly, then points to his hair. "I'm also kind of sticky."

She felt her chest tighten at that comment, wanting to shoot herself in the foot for it. Instead of arguing, she just nods and steps back into the elevator.

"I mean, I could join you after," his voice shoots out. She looks at him. "After I'm done cleaning up, I mean. That's if you're alright with waiting for me. I shouldn't be long."

She hesitates at first, but then nods. "I'll wait in the lobby."

He nods back before walking with a quicker pace to his room, the elevator doors shutting and taking her down. She bit her lip as she tried to not think into it.

There was a lot to talk about, she knew that.

She sat there quietly on a bench, picking at her nail beds as her knee bounced, her thoughts going rancid as each minute passed by slower and slower.

It was almost half an hour past, and she began to overthink.

Maybe he changed his mind? She didn't blame him if he did.

Just as she was about ready to start walking to the doors, the elevator dinged open with Lando walking out, his head popping up in search of her.

He looked more comfortable, relaxed. He wore a pair of black sweats and a grey Quadrant hoodie with a black Quadrant hat backwards.

They both began to walk outside and down the street in silence, Lando putting his hands in his pockets as they walked. "Do you have a place you're walking to specifically? Or just wanting to walk?"

She nods at the first question. "I have a spot I'd like to go and sit at."

He nods, deciding not to ask anything else till they were at her destination. Knowing that her asking him to join her was a step in the right direction.

It wasn't too much longer till they were walking into a large garden, where sculptures and other art pieces stood proudly.

Lando didn't miss the way that her entire demeanor changed, the way she looked lighter when they arrived. As if the sculpture garden was something that brought her back to reality. Brought her peace.

Y/N had found a park bench in the middle of the garden, with flower pots of colorful flowers blooming out of them.

They both took a seat, Y/N still looking at the artwork, not noticing how Lando was only focused on her. How in love with the pieces around her she was. It made him realize just how deep her infatuation with the art culture went.

It was more than just art to her. It was a way of speaking without actually saying words. It spoke of emotion without actually feeling it.

"I've always loved this field for many reasons," she spoke up. "But they all led back to the same thing for me. Peace."

Lando just listened.

"It brings me back to the first-ever art show I had gone to. I was three, almost four, I don't remember much. What I do remember was seeing how bright and colorful everything was," she chuckles lightly to herself. "Especially this one painting. It's the one that I have engraved into my mind. This woman made it. It was absolutely beautiful."

She wraps her arms around herself. "It was this big old canvas. It had all these bright colored patterns and designs over it. But the further you backed away from it, you could see them all linking together into a shape of something," she explains. "It was of her mother. Her mother had passed, I learned later on. It was all I could think about every time I went to art class in school, or when I painted. How intricate every detail had been. I wanted my art to turn into that one day. She became my inspiration."

Lando nods slowly in understanding. "Little did I know that she would be the person I'm working for now, helping guide me on how to do things the correct way to make sure my art is appreciated in the way it should be," she explains, making Lando look at her.

"My work goes onto a much deeper level than what people see or hear or know. It's how I can get my emotions out without saying anything," she admits, shaking her head. "She and I throughout all of it grew a connection. I felt like I had a mom here while my mom wouldn't be. I thought she knew the right way through it all. She saw things in my artwork I didn't."

Lando just lets her talk, not wanting to speak up at the wrong moment. He just sits and listens. "All my life, I was always told I wouldn't go anywhere with my passion. That it was not something I should be going into. That I was in the wrong field," she sniffles. "That's why I'm not close with my parents anymore. They never showed an ounce of support to me. They always showed pride in my siblings. Not me, because I wanted to go down a different path. It was my grandmother who encouraged me to keep going. She was the one showing up to all of my shows. Telling me I had that special side in me to grow bigger. It was all I wanted."

Y/N wipes her eyes, only then does she realize tears are burning in her eyes. "When I heard what you said, I didn't know what to do. It brought me back to when I was eleven years old, my parents scolding me to find a new hobby that I can get into a good college for. I didn't know how to react. Or who to talk to about it without putting them in the middle," she explains. "Then she asked me why I was so sad the day before the gala, and that I should be excited for the next evening."

Lando nods as she shrugs. "So I told her what happened. Told her how you made me feel," that made Lando's guilt tighten all over again. "I was so caught up in my emotions, I didn't know what to think. I never thought my biggest fan would become my biggest hater in that moment."

He sighs, looking down at his lap where his hands sat laced together.

"So she told me that it would be best to cut you off. To not forgive or seek out what you had to say. That only men like you, men with money they can throw, as she put it. You will throw money at situations to try and fix them. That's not something I wanted on my conscience. I wanted people to know and to understand that I can do this on my own. That I put this work in by myself. I didn't want people thinking I was using you to get my work out there," she admits, Lando snapping his head at her with a frown.

"So in the moment, I thought she was right. Then, when I found out you bought a painting and put lots of money towards the schools, I panicked. I thought you were doing it for other reasons. Because all that was ringing in my head were her words. Of her being right. Because she had shown me everything to where I'm at now. I didn't think she could ever be wrong about something or someone."

Lando shook his head. "Y/N, it's not at all why I did it. You know me," he softly answers as he turned his body towards her.

She sniffles. "Part of me knew that. It really did, but I was just so afraid that she was right," she says, her voice shaky now. "I was worried it was just a money thing to you. That you were doing it mainly to make yourself look good, feel better about the situation."

"Love," he starts, using his hand to turn her chin to look at him. "I would never ever dream or even think to steal your big moment from you. I did it after I realized how important and meaningful it was to you. It's why I also kept the donation anonymous. I made sure of it."

"I know that, but I just couldn't handle the thought of people thinking I'm where I'm at because you paid it all to happen. All of this, I wanted this to be a point where I could show off how hard I worked, and not have to rely on anyone for it. I just wanted my hard work to pay off."

He sees her insides beginning to crack open, her emotions letting themselves go. He knew she never meant any harm. She was protecting herself. She was doing what she thought would prevent her from getting any sort of backlash. It wasn't out of insecurity.

It was out of habit.

"It was never for that reason. Never," he says while shaking his head. "After you left that night, I couldn't sleep. And you did work hard. Really fucking hard. Your work and commitment are why you are where you are. I felt so guilty and shitty for what I said. What I did. I let my emotions get the best of me, let the insecurities talk," he watches her tears fall, wiping them carefully away with his thumb.

"I spent all night and all day the next couple of days studying and researching everything that had to do with art and the history of it."

Her eyes soften at his words. "You what?"

He nods with a hum. "Because I realized I fucked up. I was so envious of you and how much time I wasn't getting to spend with you because both of us were working so much. You were always in the studio, or I was always away training. I blamed you for it when we both just didn't communicate around it. I let it get to me that night, and I shouldn't have."

"Lando,"

He gives her a sad smile. "So after I did all of that, I took the time scooping out the schools I remember you talking about. Seeing what I could do to help. So I bought your painting, not only for me to have a piece of you, even if I don't get to have you, but to also give back to your community. Give back to those inspired artists so they can get to your level."

"Lando," she softly says once more. He began nodding at her reassuringly. "It's okay."

She just stared at him. "I'm sorry." She shook her head, then let her choked sobs come out. "I'm so sorry for how I reacted. I was so scared, and I was so afraid that it wouldn't turn out how I wanted. I was so blinded by my past that I let it guide me the wrong way-"

Lando's face falls, shaking his head. "No, don't do that. You were protecting yourself. I get it. You didn't know what to do. I'm not going to hold that against you. You were protecting yourself in the only way you knew how. You fought back because that's what you had to do back then. You fought back because you wanted to make a name for you, and I'm proud of you for standing your ground. It's okay. I do that a lot when it comes to racing, so don't apologize for shielding yourself. Let's just communicate from now on, yeah?"

His face falls, a slight sliver of hope shining through it. "That is, if you want to work it out. I'm not going to push you."

She bit her lip, sniffling as her eyes stared into his. She felt her insides churning in an unsure manner, her walls building up and telling her otherwise. But they were at a good point. They could get past this hiccup; they could work on it. It would take time, but Lando was it for her.

She missed her Lando.

Y/N slowly nods, seeing his face contort into both relief and happiness.

"Yeah," she agrees. "I do want to. I wanna work it out. I miss you Lan. More than you know."

He smiles a real smile at her for the first time in weeks, caressing her cheek before leaning his head against hers. "We will work through it. I promise."

"I hope so."

"We will, love. I promise," he assures her. "Not going to do it alone, yeah? I'll be here."

"I'm sorry I threw a drink on you," she chuckles dryly while shaking her head. "That was a dick move."

He shrugs it off with a slight smirk on his lips. "If anything, I deserve it for saying what I said back to that night you left. No harm done."

She nods slowly in understanding. She gives him a pointed look, jokingly as she points at him. "I will say, though," she starts. "You didn't have to say anything about the waiter. We had it under control."

He winces at that, giving her a sheepish grin. "Yeah, that's on me. I still get jealous when I see men flirting with you. I'll give you that one."

She gives him a small hug, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"Now let's get to bed, yeah? You've gotta cheer on Charles tomorrow."

She frowns, pulling away from him. "Well, yeah, of course, but I would cheer for you, too. No matter how things would've ended," she explains. Lando gives her a look, making her squint her eyes at him.

"I also won't be racing tomorrow."

"Lando, what?!" she screeches.

"I was more focused on wanting to sort things out with you. I wouldn't have been able to focus on the race. So I was going to retire the car before the race started-"

"No."

"But love I really-"

"No. I will be there waiting when you are done," she argues back, standing up while facing him. "You're racing tomorrow. That's the final answer."

He chuckles while looking up at her. His whole world.

"Yes ma'am."

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Y/N fell asleep easier that morning, Lando had walked her back to her room when they returned. Thinking it was best to still somewhat keep their distance.

When her alarm blared at eleven am that morning, she felt more awake than she thought she would feel.

She got dressed in a vintage red and black leather jacket with a denim mini skirt to match, wearing a red tank top to match. Also, to keep it breezy, as it was very humid outside that day.

Y/N chose a pair of heeled black boots, her her in a slicked back ponytail. She chose to do lighter makeup as most of it would've melted off from the heat later in the day, pairing small golden hoop earrings to finish off the look.

Once she grabbed her sunglasses, phone, and purse, she had heard a knock on her door.

She went to open it, seeing Max standing there with a guilty look on his face. She gave him a glare before pointing at him. "I should punch you, but I won't."

He looks at her with a knowing look as he nods in defeat. "Go ahead," he says, holding his arms open while closing his eyes. Taking a dramatic breath. "I'm ready. I'll forever haunt you, just know."

The girl chuckles at him before playfully pushing him as she shuts her hotel room door, beginning to walk down the hall as Max follows in a fit of laughter. "So you're really not mad at me anymore?"

She shook her head. "Not worth it. You were doing the right thing, and I'm not going to make you pick between either of us. That's wrong."

He gives her a weird look.

"What happened to Y/N?" he jokes, making her roll her eyes under her sunglasses.

"Just did a lot of thinking, is all."

He hums in understanding as they ride down the elevator. "So, you're going to be alright today?" he asks in a softer tone. She nods.

"Yeah. I'm good."

He nods. She gives him a confused look. "Have you not spoken to him yet this morning?"

He shook his head. "Why?"

"I thought he would've said it first," she chuckles, making his eyes squint at her. "Tell me what, exactly?"

She shrugs while the elevator door flings open. "You'll see."

Max groans behind her as they join the others, giving each other hugs and whatnot before heading out to the cars. She goes and sits between Alex and Pietra.

"How're you doing?" Alex conjures up first.

Y/N nods. "I'm good. I'm alright," Alex gives her a look, making Y/N chuckle. "Promise, I'm good. Everything's alright."

Pietra decided to change the subject, knowing Y/N probably didn't want to speak about it at that moment, asking them about their plans after the races.

The rest of the ride, the girls were talking about the race, girls night, and everything under the sun while the boys up front were discussing the race stuff here and there.

It was indeed getting warmer and warmer as the day pushed out. Y/N being glad she chose to wear a skirt instead of jeans.

Once they made their way into the paddock, Y/N gave Charles one more hug before he headed to his driver's room to get changed. She turned around to see that Max, Alex and Pietra had wandered over to the McLaren garage where Lando had stood.

He was smiling ear to ear as he spoke to his friends, wearing his fireproof top and his suit around his hips per usual. His arms were crossed as he laughed at something Max was saying, Y/N trying to figure out if she was okay to join them.

Those lingering questions faded as soon as Lando's eyes found hers, doing a double-take and then smiling warmly, nodding at her to join them.

She took a deep breath before walking over, not showing any sign of nervousness. Just keeping her gaze on Lando as she got closer.

Once she was within reach, Lando reached an arm out to her waist, pulling her into a hug. "Hi, love," he mutters into her ear as he holds her in his embrace tight. She wraps her arms around his neck in return, whispering a 'hi' back before they pull apart.

Lando's hand stays lingering on her back lightly, as they both nonchalantly turn their gaze back to Max.

"You were saying?" Lando asks Max, wanting him to continue the story he was telling. Instead, he just stood there with his mouth agape. Absolutely mind blown.

Alex and Pietra were just as surprised, only knowing that the two were just at each other's throats not even twenty-four hours prior.

"When in the fuck? How in the fuck?" Max says in awe.

Lando frowns playfully. "What're you on about?"

Pietra motions her hands between the pair of them.

"Oh," he playfully chuckles. "We're alright. Things are slowly moving forward, but we're working through it." he explains, nodding slowly as he says it. Not wanting to say the wrong thing.

Y/N nods as she looks at Lando, then back to them. "We're working it out. Talked last night - or this morning I guess - and are figuring it out as we go."

They all just nod slowly, still in awe at the scene in front of them. Mainly, them being stood next to one another being the shocking part of it.

"When? How? Where?" Alex bombards, making the pair laugh.

"Long story," Y/N jokes before they hear Lando being asked to come get ready for a practice lap. He looks back at Y/N, squeezing her hip with a soft look. He would've kissed here there, but he didn't want to push her.

He says his goodbyes to the others in front of him before scurrying back into the garage, happily grabbing his helmet to put on.

Y/N looks back at her friends, who are still staring at her.

"So what happened? Like really happened?" Pietra asked.

"Yeah, last I remember, you were ready to throw him over that balcony," Max chuckles. "What changed?"

Y/N shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. Not after all of it, and I just sat there taking in everything that I knew. I thought back to how it all went down. I decided to go for a walk to try and clear my head enough to sleep. Ran into him in the elevator, and I asked him to join. He did. We expressed everything. We're working it out," she explains, trying to keep it simple and short.

"That's a relief," Max huffs, rubbing his forehead. "Although I'm shocked he went for another walk. He was so exhausted after the first one."

She frowns. "Huh?"

He nods at her. "Yeah. After you left, he and I left shortly after. He wanted to walk it out, so we spent like the next few hours walking up and down the streets," he admits, his eyes widening. "He didn't mention it?"

She shook her head. "Well now I feel bad," she said, and he shook his head.

"No, don't! If there's anything you and me know about him, is that no matter how bad things get between the two of you, he will always be there."

Y/N gives him a pursed lip smile, eyes saying a lot more than she wanted to. Lando was so in love with her, just as much as she still was. No matter their terms, she knows she would've come back down the road if not now.

Because she felt a sudden emptiness where his spot once sat in her heart. Now he was back, and it made her feel full.

"He's it for me, I think, Max. After everything, I believe he's it." she confirms, getting aw's from the girls.

"Are you sure?" Alex asks, more so in a protective friend way. Y/N nods. "I just can't bear seeing you both hurting like that again. I hated not knowing who I should be there for. I didn't want to hurt either of you."

Y/N lets her brows furrow. "Alex, no, don't ever feel like that. You truly don't ever need to be in the middle. I would've understood. No questions asked."

Alex gives her a sad smile before nodding slowly. Y/N grabs her hand to squeeze reassuringly before Max starts to usher them up into the air conditioned paddock.

Y/N and Alex bid their goodbyes and hugged before Alex walked her way down to the Ferrari paddock, Y/N looking back at Max and Pietra.

"Are you going to stay? Or are you gonna go up to the paddock balcony?" Pietra asks, Y/N smiles.

"I'll stay here."

Max smiles at that, happy to see one of his best friends finally smiling genuinely. It was the first real one he had seen on her in a long time.

If only she knew.

They all sat and conversed quietly, some of the familiar staff members coming and saying hello to Y/N as they walked by, the girl happily indulging and catching up with them.

This felt normal for her. She missed this normal. Nothing made her feel out of place, not even after how badly she had reacted against Lando the night before. Not after he kept telling her it was valid, and she was being protective of herself. Of her feelings.

She knew one thing, which was that she most likely would be parting ways with her boss. Her absolute idol, but she knew it would have to come.

Not only because of what was said, but to also travel out and explore the options that were sitting in her hands. Travel the world and paint it how she sees in her eyes.

She already had a few ideas of paintings she wanted to do, one including the boy, whose face was squishing inside his helmet as he smiled up at one of his mechanics, as he sat in his car. He sat there patiently as he waited for the real race to start in that moment.

Yeah, he was it.

Before she knew it, they were off to line it up, Y/N putting on her ear muffs as she walked over towards the balcony doors to watch them.

It wasn't too long after that they were off, Y/N's eyes now shooting over to the TVs that stood in the front of the club room. Her arms were crossed as she kept her gaze focused.

When they showed Lando passing and moving up to P2, the camera had panned towards her direction. Y/N is trying to not smile at the fact it read Famous Artist and Lando's partner below her name.

Sure, they had a lot to figure out, but she wouldn't mind seeing that under her name again.

It made her realize that he truly would always be there. In the background, on the side, right in front of her. Either way, he would happily let her shine, all the while cheering her on as she moved forward in her life.

He was never trying to dim it, or steal it, or put his name in it. He was doing it to show her he was all in. That he was seeing her.

She had a lot to heal from and to learn from; she knew that.

When the race finished, Lando ended up placing P2 while Oscar had ended up placing P1, which was still a big deal for McLaren. They were putting points on the board, which was important.

Y/N, Max, and Pietra had made their way down to stand below and in front of the podium where the boys were doing their champagne fights. Mainly spraying it at Oscar.

Y/N stayed more in the back when they came down, wanting Lando to have his moments with Max and his managers. Only for his eyes to search out for her and her only. He motions for her to move closer to the front.

She shook her head with a proud smile, shooing at him. "Take the moment with them!" she hollers back through the cheers, he looks back for a second before looking back at her and shaking his head.

Before she knew it, he had hopped over the barricade and scurried towards her. He happily pulled her into a bear hug and lifted her up off the ground with a slight spin. She laughed in surprise at his ways, knowing he would get a tap on the wrist for that stunt later. He didn't care.

When he puts her down, he places his hands on her cheeks, chuckling down at her. "You smell like leather and champagne," she giggles, earning an eyeroll from the boy.

"Next time just come up to the front then," he jokes. She gives him a weird look.

"You'll still smell."

"Yeah, but it won't be as bad because then there's more space."

She playfully smacks his chest, watching him tilt his head back to laugh.

He looks back down at her, leaning closer and closer. Y/N letting his lips barely brush over hers.

"Lando! Get your ass back on this side!" Oscar yells out, an amused look on his face as he sees why he went over there in the first place.

Lando groans, and then slithers one of his hands down to one of hers, lacing them together before guiding her back up to the front. He helps lift her over the barricade, then placing his hand back into hers.

"We celebrating tonight?" she asks as they walk back to the garages.

He gives her a knowing look. "Oh you know it, baby."

She laughs while shaking her head. "Oh boy."

"Oh boy indeed. Gonna be a great night."

She knew she was in for a long one.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

"Honey if you keep touching it, it's going to smudge."

Pietra laughs at Y/N, watching the girl trying to fix the highlight in the inner corners. "I'm just trying to make sure it's not a ton, ok? I think I accidentally put too much on the brush," she laughs back, then finally leaves it as it was. It wasn't bad, not as scary as it was at the start.

She slips on her black boots from earlier, looking over the mauve-colored halter leather top she wore with a snug black skirt to top it off.

She decided to leave her hair down in its natural state, not wanting it to frizz out in the humidity of the club walls. Once the girls do their finishing touches, they're out the door as Pietra texted Max, saying they were just leaving.

As the guys were already there with Lando and Oscar in the VIP section.

The two girls talked as they were being driven to the club, keeping it a light and simple conversation as they got closer to their destination.

Once they arrived, the chauffeur helped the girls out one at a time. Y/N thanking him before he leaves them, the girls smiling warmly up at the security guard who stood by Max.

"My two favorites. Looking as beautiful as ever."

Pietra rolls her eyes with a smile as she plants a kiss on her boyfriend. "Don't sweet-talk us. Not happening," she jokes, earning a groan from the man.

He led the two inside and past the dancefloor, upstairs to the VIP secluded lounge that overlooked the entire club.

Y/N could feel her pulse quicken at the sight of Lando, her face heating as she took him in.

His legs were spread, while he supported a drink in his hands that hung between his thighs. He had on a pair of loose-fitting jeans with a button-up short-sleeved shirt. Having it only half buttoned, and his two gold chains poking out on his chest.

His head was turned to the side as he was talking to one of the guys from McLaren, a pair of sunglasses sitting low on his nose as he laughed.

"Be polite and be nice because we like these girls," Max announces once they get there. "We like these two, so don't scare them away."

The group laughs as they join, Max pulling Pietra to sit on his lap while joining in on a conversation with Oscar and his girlfriend.

She doesn't miss the way that Lando calls her name, having her head look over his way. He smirked at her lightly, motioning with his finger for her to come to him. She happily obliged with a small smile.

As soon as she is in front of him, he doesn't hesitate to squeeze her hip and pull her down to sit on his thigh. His eyes looked up at hers through his sunglasses. She gave him an amused smirk.

"It's not sunny in here, take those off," she jokes, grabbing them from his face and putting them on her head. He doesn't let his stare falter from looking at her.

"You look absolutely ravishing," he chuckles, scanning her figure and biting his lip as he took her in.

"All Alex's choosing," she chuckles. He smiles up at her.

"She's always had good taste when it comes to dressing you up, so I'm not shocked one bit."

She pats his chest with a playful eyeroll.

"Are you sweet talking me right now?"

"I was just being honest. You want me to sweet talk you?"

She pretends to think for a second before grinning at him. "I'm intrigued. Do tell," she shoots, watching his smirk become wider.

"Well, I'll start on the fact that your lips look very kissable right now," he chuckles lightly. "I'm dying to know what flavor your gloss is."

She looks at him, biting her bottom lip. "Better find out, yeah?" she says slowly, Lando chuckling darkly as he leaned up towards her face.

Their lips were so close to finally touching for the first time in weeks, both craving the want and need just as much as the other.

"Oi! We need to get drinks for the ladies! Let's go!" Max interrupts, patting his mate's free thigh. Lando kept his eyes closed while clenching his jaw in annoyance. He squeezed Y/N's hips, then looking up at her with a look.

"Always has the best timing." he grumbles before he softly lifts her up, and having her sit in his spot as he stood up.

"Usual?" he asks her, watching her nod.

He straightens up before turning to join Max, who looks back at Y/N with a knowingly amused look in his eyes. She flips him off before letting out a chuckle, watching as they disappeared to the bar.

She decides to busy herself and turns to join in on the conversation with Oscar's girlfriend, asking what she's been up to and how everything has been travel-wise. Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling she was beginning to have after the way Lando's touch felt on her again.

She forgot how easy his touch was to melt into. Especially on nights like these.

The night went on, Lando not letting up on his touch on Y/N. He had his hand or hands on her in every single way he could. Whether it was her leg, her waist, back, arm, or hips. He couldn't keep his hands to himself.

It was later in the evening, and most of the group had made their way to the dancefloor, jamming out and dancing as the DJ had Lando up at the front spinning tunes. Y/N stood up at the booth with him, the boy insisting she had to be up there enjoying with him. She didn't dare argue.

It was always hot and fun watching him DJ, as it became a side hustle not too far back. He was pretty good at it, and when he was given the options to do it, he would never turn it down.

So she stood behind him, dancing and singing along as he mixed. Lando turning back and keeping a close distance to her as he did so.

After he finished with the latest song, he took a breather and stood to the side as the DJ transitioned into the next song. Lando turned over to Y/N with his hands out to her.

She happily took them, letting the boy pull her in close as they danced together while the beats went crazy throughout the club.

His hands had slithered away from her, rubbing up and down her sides while hers hung onto his neck. He leaned his forehead onto hers, smiling down at her as they swayed together.

The tension was growing thicker and thicker between the two. It has been weeks since they were this close. The pair really craved the other's touch more and more as the night carried on. Y/N let her hands trail up to his curls, gripping onto them in a way she used to that made him go crazy.

She watched him bite his lip as he fought back a groan from leaving his lips. "You fucker," he jokes at her, squeezing her sides and pulling her against his body.

Y/N just laughs, doing the same thing again. She watches him ripping at the seams.

Lando huffs out with a knowing smirk before pulling away from her. He grabs her hand to guide her off the booth and down past the dance floor.

She happily follows behind him, just as tension-filled as the man in front of her.

Lando looks back to make sure nobody was behind them before opening a door and pulling her inside. He shuts and locks it behind them. Y/N noticed it was a unisex bathroom. She watches as he turns to face her, saying nothing as he grabs her hips to move her over and onto the sink counter.

Y/N happily lets him drag her around, antsy for him to finally make a move.

"You want this?" he asks, his eyes softening for a second as he looks up at her.

She wraps her hands around his neck, caressing the sides of his jaw. She nods. "Yeah. Yeah I do."

"Because if we do this, there's no more going slow," he shakes his head. "I can't live without being able to touch you like this if we go slow."

Instead of saying anything else, she smiles at him with a light laugh, leaving her lips, grabbing his chin, and finally bringing his lips to her own. The kiss was messy. Teeth-clashing, tongues fighting. Lando was kissing her back like a man starved.

His hands didn't know where to go, touching and caressing anywhere he could grab.

Her hands left his face, trailing to his chest, and one hand pulling on his chains to keep him close to her as they hungrily kissed one another. With the other hand, scratching along his chest before making its way to his back to continue letting her nails scratch the skin there. A hiss leaves his mouth as her nails dig into his skin. He then groans into her mouth.

"Gonna leave those pretty marks on my back again, yeah?" he moans into her mouth, getting a breathless nod and moan from her as one of his hands squeezes her breast.

Her head falls back when he flicks over the clothed nipple, Lando's lips immediately trailing to her neck and leaving marks on his path.

"I've missed you so fucking much," he mumbles.

"You have no idea," she sighs back, bringing his mouth back to her own.

They both kissed and touched and moaned with so much need. None of it was enough for either of them. Not after how long they both went without it.

A loud banging on the door snapped them away, hearing someone say they needed the bathroom. Y/N looks at Lando who is biting his lip to keep from laughing. He looks back at here.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asks her, watching her smile grow wider.

"Take me home, Lan."

That he did.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: AHHHHHH that's the ending! I hope you guys enjoyed it, I honestly did not think this would go past two parts lol. Told you all to TRUST the process! Thank you for showing love to it :) Let me know what we think! Love you all!

Taglist:

@nickie-amore , @tylerstacobell , @piceous21 , @ariesandwolves , @lifeonawhim , @formulawhore , @asterooidsblog , @staple-your-mouth , @sinfully-yoursss , @smileyshaven , @midnightsaugust , @astrlape , @relijanka , @jooooooooo-cycycy16 , @cherryhazee , @nina481 , @lighttsoutlewis , @suns3treading , @areej003 , @dramallama9 , @putherup , @green--beanie , @footyball , @callsign-mirage , @kearasaltynalapepper , @idkwahr , @teti-menchon0604 , @footyball

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando fanfic #ln4 #y/n #angst #fluff #rosieswxrld

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catboybiologist · 16 hours ago

Note

thanks for your explanation about the roots of transmisogyny and ergo why transandrophia doesnt make sense as a counterpart - found that explanation enlightening.

as a trans man, there’s another piece to the misogyny ive faced that maybe you have thoughts on? since i was raised and treated as a woman for the first two decades of my life, i was often considered less capable or less worthy of awards/promotions/etc just for being a “woman”. now that i pass, i experience male privilege, but underneath that, i still have all the setbacks of 21 years of misogyny (setbacks that my trans sister, for example, never faced. not trying to play oppression olympics here to be clear!). so i have male privilege in the present moment but not the snowball effect that cis men have.

anyway, i appreciate your clear and thoughtful breakdown of how these structures of oppression operate, and am interested in any thoughts you might have on this angle

So yeah, these are thoughts I've grappled with a lot, and honestly get really personal. They're also thoughts that I talk to a lot of cis women about, and is a reason why I think it's important for trans women to have more solidarity with cis women.

Misogyny does affect trans women pre-transition, let's be clear. Vilification of feminity and being branded as "faggotgender" are manifestations of misogyny as well, and trans women will often have this experience. I was, and the series of incidents that I consider my worst interactions with transmisogyny were actually technically pretransiton, when I was questioning and tepidly telling people that.

With that out of the way, that experience is MUCH different than what most transmascs and cis women go through. One compare and contrast I've made with some cis friends is their first experiences with sexualization. I was first nonconsensually approached and followed by a man in public when I was 26 years old. For my cis friends, it was as early as 11.

That does shit to you. That's trauma inducing. I'm not going to deny that it is, because that would be horrifying.

Cis women have also had to deal with exactly what you said: not being taken seriously as a professional for years. Trans women don't necessarily have that until they transition.

The flip side of this, however, is that trans women face misogyny in ways that are far more silent and isolated than cis women.

Alongside their horror stories, my cis friends have also told me of the support: mothers, sisters, friends, community members, older women who protected them, pulled them aside, gave them love and sympathy, attacked the men who targeted them, and gave them advice on how to keep their head up in the face of sexual danger and professional sexism.

Trans women, more often than not, get none of that.

There was no one to defend me or sympathize with me the first time I got sexually assaulted. No one believed me when I noticed people rapidly taking me less seriously after I socially transitioned. No one believed that I was "enough of a woman" to get catcalled.

Slowly, over time, that changed. But it changed because I had open and honest conversations about it with people- and I would say I have a strong network of friends and supporters now, precisely because I've engaged with the different ways this has affected us.

It's all a balance. I'm not doing anything oppression Olympics here, and neither are you! These are important experiences to compare and contrast. In fact, let's take that lack of support I mentioned: the first people I started getting support from, were the same cis women telling me those sorties. Breaking down the barriers, talking openly about how to navigate a misogynist world, and restating that yes, the force we're feeling is misogyny is a super important thing to bring into your day to day life.

Bit of a personal pontification and guilt under the cut.

This cuts at a bit of guilt I've been feeling recently.

I graduated high school as a man.

I got admitted to my undergrad as a man, and started research there as a man.

I got my Bachelor's of Science as a man.

I got my first Masters of Science as a man.

I was admitted to a PhD program as a man.

I transitioned.

I dropped out as a woman.

I've felt a lot of complicated feelings of failure and guilt around this. They're deeply rooted to other parts of my life too personal to talk about on tumblr. But... Yeah. This is all part of it. And yeah, I do see how I was propped up in the past, and how much of that I've lost.

Along the way, I had a lot of silent oppression as well. But I still don't talk about those, and to the world, it still looks like I became a woman and immediately crumpled. What kind of message does that send?

Idk. I know this is dumb. But yeah. Shit sucks.

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zhelin-thames · 2 days ago

Text

The Fudge Courier

The Wayne Mansion was never exactly quiet, but the sudden crack of breached security systems and the high-pitched alarm was enough to cause a minor panic in the Batfamily group chat.

Everyone mobilized. Jason was halfway to the armory. Damian had his sword in hand. Steph already had a batarang between her fingers. Bruce was the first to reach the front foyer, cape trailing behind him dramatically, expecting an assassin, a rogue AI, or maybe Ra’s himself.

Instead, it was a teenager in a baggy hoodie and Converse, standing in the middle of the marble floor with a tray of fudge like he owned the place.

"WHERE IS THE OLD MAN?!" the intruder demanded.

Bruce raised a brow. "Now, I don’t think I’m—"

"NOT YOU! THE OLD MAN!" the teen snapped, eyes wild with exhaustion. “You don’t count. You’re like… diet old. Where’s the real deal?”

Before anyone could tase, tackle, or interrogate him, Alfred emerged from the dining room, adjusting his gloves with dignified calm. “Master Bruce, is there a—?”

He didn’t finish.

The fudge was shoved into his hands with the kind of reverence usually reserved for live bombs.

“Happy Father’s Day from Thomas and his wife.” The hoodie kid (ghost? gremlin?) looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “They haven’t stopped haunting me about it for weeks. I’m so tired. Please. Please tell me I can finally tell them that baby Brucie is fine and stop being their afterlife errand boy.”

There was a beat of stunned silence.

Then Alfred—gentle, serene, forever composed Alfred—smiled. He even laughed, lightly, like this wasn’t a complete break in reality. “Yes, indeed. They are doing well. I am so terribly sorry to have put you in this position. Perhaps we can make it up to you by having you stay for dinner?”

Danny, hoodie gremlin in question, beamed like he’d just won the lottery. “Free food? Absolutely.” Then he glanced at the fudge. “Oh, right—It’s not poisoned or ecto-contaminated, FYI. Totally safe for normal humans and whatever brand of chaos you people are.”

He waved like this was a PTA meeting and followed Alfred into the kitchen like he hadn’t just broken into one of the most secure homes on the planet.

The Batkids stood frozen.

“Umm… Alfred, do you know this kid?” Dick asked carefully.

Danny turned to face them with a tired sigh. “Are you baby Brucie? Because I swear to the Ancients, if you are, I need to punch you. Like, lovingly. Ghost realm tradition. Don’t worry, it only hurts a little.”

A long silence.

Then Dick lost it, wheezing. “Nope! Nope, that’s not me—he’s behind you and probably wants to punch you now.”

Danny blinked, glanced back at Bruce, then offered a grin. “...Fair.”

Bruce stared at the tray of fudge in Alfred’s hands, then at the strange boy now comfortably parked on a kitchen stool. Then, very calmly, he pressed the panic button for the entire family. They were going to need back-up. And a full psych eval.

Meanwhile, Tim was already texting.

get here now bring Kon AND jon dinner’s cursed there’s fudge and ghosts and bruce has parents again???

The Phantom Courier had arrived. And dinner was going to be spicy.

Dinner at Wayne Manor was already chaos on a good day. Add in Danny Phantom, ghost errand boy of the dearly departed Wayne parents, and things got wild fast.

By the time the rest of the Batfamily arrived, Alfred had set the table like nothing strange was happening—because to him, nothing was. A guest was a guest, even if that guest had floated through a wall earlier and casually mentioned alternate dimensions.

Danny sat between Steph and Duke, legs criss-crossed in his chair, still wearing his hoodie like it was armor. “So anyway, it turns out if you make direct eye contact with the portrait of Martha Wayne at exactly 2:37 AM, she shows up and starts judging you for the dishes in the sink.”

Steph choked on her drink.

“You’re lying,” Jason said flatly.

“Swear on my core,” Danny grinned. “She folded my laundry. Folded it. But she also gave me this look like I was a raccoon rooting through the family fridge.”

“...She always did run a tight household,” Alfred muttered under his breath, pleased.

Tim, phone still in hand under the table, was quietly live-texting everything to Kon. Bruce hadn’t said much since Danny’s arrival, though he'd definitely tried to interrogate him mid-salad. Danny answered every question with equal parts snark and sincerity, and Bruce hadn’t known how to handle that since Nightwing’s teen years.

But the real kicker came after dinner.

Alfred brought out a lovely tray of tea and that infamous fudge. Everyone reached for a piece. Except Bruce.

Danny froze. Eyes wide.

“You’re not eating the fudge?”

“I don’t eat dessert,” Bruce said firmly, because of course he didn’t.

Danny paled—well, more pale. “Oh Ancients. You were supposed to eat it. That was like... half the haunting quota! I told them I shouldn’t be the one to deliver it, but nooo, I’m the ‘living representative’—"

Suddenly, the lights flickered.

A breeze swept through the dining room despite all the windows being shut.

Then—

A glow shimmered above the table, and two figures faded into view. Elegant. Ethereal. Slightly translucent.

“Bruce Thomas Wayne,” said Martha Wayne, voice calm but cutting, “You did not just ignore the dessert your father and I specifically requested be delivered for this occasion.”

Thomas Wayne crossed his arms. “We died. The least you could do is eat a single piece of fudge.”

Bruce stared at them, stunned. “...You sent the fudge?”

Danny waved his fork. “I told you. They’re relentless. I’ve never been hunted harder in my life—and I died.”

Jason was half under the table laughing. Damian stared at the ghosts with a mix of disbelief and awe. Dick was frantically signing do not punch them, do not punch them at Damian.

Martha floated closer, arms crossed like the world’s most disappointed PTA mom. “Your father and I have waited a very long time to share something—anything—with you again. And this young man was kind enough to help us.”

Thomas chimed in. “And he’s got moxie. You could use more of that in your life.”

Bruce cleared his throat, awkwardly picking up a piece of fudge. “...Fine. One piece.”

The lights settled.

The ghosts relaxed.

Danny slumped forward. “Thank the Ancients. I can finally go home and not have Martha materialize in my mirror telling me I ‘forgot the nuts.’”

Martha beamed. “Thank you, dear. You’re a delight.”

Then they both faded out. Just like that.

Silence.

“...So,” Dick finally said, “Do we do Father’s Day like this every year now or...?”

Tim texted Kon again.

fudge was ghost-coded bruce got mom’d from beyond the veil help bring backup

Tim’s texts didn’t go unanswered for long.

Kon: we’re coming Kon: jon says we should bring a gift Kon: is batman allergic to anything? Jon: (from Kon’s phone) my mom says you can’t show up empty-handed to a ghost-fudge dinner. I’m bringing lasagna.

Twenty minutes later, just as Alfred was prepping dessert plates and Danny was halfway through explaining what ghost zones were (with salt shakers), there was a knock at the front door.

A polite knock. One that radiated Midwestern kindness and super strength.

Bruce answered the door with the grim expectation of chaos.

Instead, he got Superman, Superboy, and Jon Kent holding a steaming glass dish wrapped in oven mitts.

“Hi, Bruce,” Clark said, smiling like this was a backyard barbecue. “Happy Father’s Day.”

“We brought food!” Jon added helpfully. “And napkins!”

Danny peeked out from behind Bruce. “...You brought napkins to a haunted fudge dinner?”

“Ghosts like etiquette,” Jon said with perfect sincerity.

Danny stared. “...I’m adopting you.”

Bruce groaned. “Why are you here?”

Clark gave the world’s most innocent shrug. “Tim said dinner was going great. And involved your parents. The ghost versions.” He looked very smug. “I couldn’t miss that.”

Tim popped out from behind a hallway arch, phone in hand. “For the record, you’re welcome.”

Danny barging into the wayne mansion wearing a hoddie and holding a tray of fudge.

"WHERE IS THE OLD MAN?!"

All the bats and birds panicing bc a random broke theu their security measures. Bruce being first to look at him"hey now, i dont think i'm~"

he gets cut off by Danny. "NOT YOU! THE OLD MAN!"

Alfred steps out of the dining room fixing his gloves and suit. Before he can speak danny shoves the plate of fudge in his hands"Happy fathers day from thomas and his wife. They have not stopped hounding me for weeks. And im tired. Please tell me i can say their baby brucie is fine." He says half pleading.

Alfred breaks a small smile before laughing lightly"yes indeed. They are doing well. I am so terribly sorry to have put you in this position. Perhaps we can make it up to you by having you stay for dinner?"

Bruce and the kids are glading ready for a fight unsure of how to interact in this moment."Umm Alfred, do you know this kid?" Dick asks breaking the silence.

Danny turns to him"are you baby brucie? Bc i swear to ancients i need to punch you and i hope you are an adult." Silence as crickets sounds before dick breaks down laughing."no he is behind you ready to punch you himself. Can umm you explain?"

Danny pauses thinking a moment before amiling"you offered me free food. I will gladly accept! Oh! That reminds me! The fudge isnt poisoned or ecto contaminated. So it is safe for normal humans to consume as well as whatever the hell you all are." He waves and follows Alfred theu to the kitchen.

Bruce panic buttons the rest to come home for dinner. This is gonna be a long night.

Meanwhile tim is texting Kon to being supes and jon with him to dinner tonight. Things are about to be spicy!

#danny phantom #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #danny phantom crossover #dc prompt #dc x dp #alfred knows everything #danny just wants a nap #ghostly family drama #dead waynes causing problems again #this is canon now don't question it #danny is everyone's emotional support ghost #fudge diplomacy #zhelin-thames

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absolutebl · 11 hours ago

Text

This Week in BL - Wild Times (But Not For Sorn)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2025 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Knock Out (Fri WeTV ) ep 6 of 12 - I continue to very much enjoy this show, all of the couples have great chemistry, the plot is entertaining, It’s a solid sports romance and I adore a sports romance. Nothing not to love.

My Stubborn (Sun iQIYI) ep 6 of 10 - No no no. Sorn is supposed to suffer. This is not acceptable. Do not just give in like that! Oh thank goodness, yay! Confrontation, make him suffer, Junbaby! You go sweetie! Good. Good, suffering. More suffering is needed! Tai make him suffer too!

Reset (Mon iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - Did Thada just buy his man a plastic bowl so he could eat his ramen as they walk down a street? Interesting choice. Also “workcation” = v modern word… so Thada must also be on a Reset? I do love that Thada is putting all of his cards on the table so quickly, definitely one who feels like time might run out and he has to get it right this time around. Thada is treating a relationship with Armin exactly the same way that Armin is treating his acting career. As I think you could probably tell, I am enjoying this very much. What a good show.

Memoir of Rati (Fri Netflix or YT) ep 1 of 12 - I was resistant to picking this one up, despite my love of both pairs. The title, intro music, and setting make me nervous that we won’t get a happy ending. That said, I am particularly interested in this time of Thailand‘s history and the complicated diplomacy that went on. And holy heck can GreatInn serve up some stellar chemistry.

My Sweetheart Jom (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 - I continue to enjoy this more as it gets more plot heavy and convoluted. To be clear, that’s not normally what I like in my BL and certainly not what I expect from Thailand, or that Thailand does well. But there’s something about the way this show is paced that I'm enjoying more now than at the start. And we should be in the soggy middle. So, I guess... well done little show?

Pit Babe 2 (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 13 - Kenta Kim kiss! Yay!!! Chris’s epic eye rolls make me happy. However, this plot is Very Silly Indeed and I am very entertained. What a vroom vroom full of nonsense this is.

I Promise I Will Come Back (Mon WeTV) ep 5 of 10 - Oh what a lovely first kiss… touch… and so forth. I love this! It’s actually kind of special. How unexpected. (Ep 5A if you just wanna watch the moment.) I’ve said it before, there’s nothing wrong with the acting in this show. It’s the general story and script that’s troubling me. But my goodness all 3 leads are great.

The Next Prince (Sat iQIYI) ep 8 of 14 - It has been a bumper of a week and I’m grumpy, and unfortunately this particular show is bearing the brunt of it. I’m sorry, but the main couple are just so one note and it’s becoming quite trying. Something has to actually evolve with their characters, ya know? Now the sides …. very nicely done, give us more of them.

The Bangkok Boy (Sat Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - It was a decent episode. But I’m really not sure about this show as a BL. It’s making me increasingly nervous.

Boys in Love (Sun iQIYI ) ep 7 of 12 - Just as I suspected, lots of nothing happening. Sports day. Whatever. (Always been Blue Team myself… just FYI.)

SunTiny (Tues iQIYI) ep 1-2 of 10 - Look here, there’s a lot to like about this show. I like the idea of messing with standard misconceptions of top/bottom, and I LOVE it when the fandom hets and their dumb ideas of sex get the vapors. Blow their tiny minds, boys. Please.

However, I am a little crushed that it takes a bodyswap for us to have a femme top. I hate bodyswap narratives. It’s one of my least favorite tropes. And I’m not sure this particular pair has the acting chops to carry this off. No skin off of MaxNat - good chemistry and decent actors, but to act like another person in your own body genuinely requires a level of physicality and verbal execution, a new way of holding the jaw and face to make believable. It’s not something that’s easy to do. Max is doing a slightly better job at it. He is certainly better at facial nuance and tone shift, but his physicality remains the same.

I love that this show is absolutely gonna mess with the worst of the fandom. That makes me really damn happy. Although it is dangerous territory for this pair to enter into and not a subject matter I expect Thailand to handle with delicacy. I do love all of the jockeying with linguistics and verbal pronouns and such. That is fun.

As of now though, I remain torn. It's gonns have to prove itself.

Eye Contact (Weds WeTV) ep 6 end? - I don’t like anything that happened at the back end of this show. And I’m not going to forgive it. I don’t like where the characters went. I don’t like where the relationships went. I don’t like what was done with the story arc. I don’t like the choices that were made by anyone. I am, to put it simply, cheesed off. The GL couple is the only good thing about this and they got practically no screen time. I’m tempted to say that this was originally slated to be a 12 episode and it stopped halfway through.

Summary

A promising start for a craptastic but delightfully edgy pulp derailed abruptly in the second act by miserable disconnected story arcs full of dysfunctional relationships, poor life choices, and every trigger in the book with no payout or attempt to resolve or address the resulting trauma. Including mine. I am seriously displeased. 3/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Ball Boy Tactics (Korea Thurs iQIYI) ep 3 of 8 - They. Are. So. Cute. I love them so much. No notes, absolutely my favorite thing airing right now.

Sweetheart Service (Korea Fri YT) ep 7 of 12 - How delightful that the sides got some love. That was charming. They went on a date. They are so damn adorable. Meanwhile our leads are the bestest boys.

Moon and Dust (China YT) ep 5 of 6 - Yay biting! Oh this show is so ffed up and I love that. It’s so good. It’s so warped. It’s so good because it’s so warped. I am scared (for me and the show) but so pleased.

He is my rabid dog child and I LOVE HIM. Let him fuck bite his brother if he wants.

Revenged Love (China Mon Gaga) ep 1-4 of 24? - A remake of 2015's Falling in Love with a Rival. From China ON GAGA? What alt-reality IS THIS? No idea on the length, MDL says 24 but at 45 a pop, I'm wondering if that's correct, because that would make this the first full length CBL we have had since... well, Advance Bravely. But also, see the next section, this could be shut down at any moment.

And now, some thoughts:

It is so like its source, absolutely unhinged CBL. Snake fighting. So much smoking. Money throwing. Gifting boys. Gang rp. UNHINGED. What the actual?

At least this time the seme is established queer out the gate closet? Our baby boy is a bit of a loser. And the meat cute was way more modern BL. Of course seme is also truly evil, he’s openly queer and this is CBL so he must be corrupt in all ways. (I don’t make the rules the CCP does.)

Of course I LOVE the doctor. (Also the psycho baby brother from Moon & Dust, did you clock?) I don’t think I’ve ever loved a character this much this quickly since Film was last on my screen. He is glorious.

Anyway, I have no faith in this ending in a satisfying manner, or indeed ending at all, but boy am I enjoying this WILD ride.

Depth of Field AKA Hishakai Shindo (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 1-2 of 6 - The actor playing Hayakawa was in one of the Kiss shorts! Neat. Well we know he can certainly kiss a boy. Meanwhile, this is warped, a little creepy, and sort of messed up. And exactly what I expected from this IP. I like it, as I usually do with stuff from Japan. I’m making no guarantees on where this is going tho. Remember, never try to predict Japanese BL. Safer on the psyche.

The Sparkle In Your Eye (Singapore Sun Gaga & Viki) eps 9-10 of 12 - characters aren’t talking to each other or telling the truth. It's very sappy and heart wrenching and tiring.

Important word on the CBL we are enjoying right now.

WRITERS ARRESTED! China’s Danmei Crackdown (also stuff on SmartBoom breakup, and the unprecedented popularity of GL pair LingOrm's Photo Shoot)

This has happened before. I said a little while ago that the CBL industry & online behavior keeps giving me 2016 vibes and that time period seems to be repeating itself. (Maybe all these do-over time travel BLs lateIy have been trying to tell us something?) I know this new spate of uncensored CBLs are only being distributed internationally but I still don't see how we can expect this to end well, especially Revenged Love. We are in Heroin Addicted territory and the dejavu is strong with this one. I am going to keep watching on the "get it while you can" theory, but I now wish I'd been bootlegging Moon & Dust. Revenged too. I may set aside some time to do so for... reasons... I recommend you do the same.

That's not what he said. So petty Tencent CCP WeTV.

It's airing but......

I Became the Lead in a BL Drama 2 AKA Zoku BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita (Japan Gaga) 6 eps - While I am intrigued by the manager side couple, I can't be arsed to add this to the weekly rotation. I may binge once it's done.

The Ex-Morning (Thailand YT) 10 eps - dropped half way through ep 3. I was just angry at it, at GMMTV, at the script, at the characters. That's not healthy for any of us. If rumors are to be believed, I'm feeling great about this life choice.

Season of Love in Shimane AKA Ai no Kisetsu: The Season of Love (Thai) 8 eps - Sequel to Kiseki Chapter 2 which I intensely disliked. I won't watch this.

Mission to the Moon (YT) 12 eps- Watching but I can't keep track. Too short, too many, too YT. I will report at end.

Loy Kaew First Love (Fri YT) 6 eps - Dropped at ep 4. Ended this week, trigger warning on that ending. Not recommended.

Next Week Looks Like This:

2025 Line Up

6/27 The Promise of The Soul (Taiwan Gaga) 12 eps - Have I mentioned recently how much I hate bodyswap?

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

This is from a KBL short called Wrong Number, has the actor playing the older brother bartender in Sweetheart Service. So far v cute. But one can't trust Sukfilm to end well.

I am pretty sure this is not an accurate translation. But I kinda LOVED it. (Sweetheart Service)

It's all about the doctor character. He is giving me LIFE. (Other people too, presumably, being a doctor and all.)

Revenged Love.

Yeah yeah. I like to see it. I'll take my cute femme top anyway I can. (SunTiny)

No but seriously, that kiss (I Promise I Will Come Back).

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

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d3cay1ngst4tic · 24 hours ago

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— you’re a dog, and i’m your man.

contents. suguru geto x gn!reader. yandere!suguru. grotesque imagery. mentions of blood. slight infantilization (?). LOTS of gaslighting. unhealthy relationships (<- oh we down the bars with this one. . but also not really bc that’s how we write). conflicting emotions. reader is very self destructive. jiah being one menace of a narrator (2, sorry not sorry, bozos).

★ jiah’s notes. blame @sugurusladyknightt ’s rb for satoru’s counterpart for this one. you and your unassuming little words, nae (c’mere and let me kiss you silly).

don’t get me wrong, now— hey, hey. hear me out. no bad intentions, see? my hands riiight infront of you. no weapons on me, i swear. just listen to me, okay? shut up and listen.

where was i?

. . right. yandere!suguru is a yearner, of course— no alterations there, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it. but. there’s more to it. see, he isn’t the kind that bleeds pure want till it’s spilling into your hands and nuzzles his nose against the back of your leg whilst crying about you how devastatingly divine you are.

(not that he wouldn’t do any of those things if you wanted to, though. only if you asked nicely.)

naaaah. i mean— the species’s gotta have some or the other variation, right? where’s the fun in experiencing fondness go down the same gut each and every single time? variety is valid, sweetheart.

(. . . sorry. i’ll see myself out.)

not before enlightening you, of course. that’s what i’m here for. make you see. look. because you’re not very good at it, are you?

sorry to burst your bubble, but you don’t have a very. . . valid (hah) idea of what’s good for yourself and what’s not. i mean, why else would you decide to lash out on him and kick up a fuss like he’s the reason why you’re stuck in a labyrinth you’ve been screaming at since ages?

(too bad. you created it yourself, you know?)

silly, silly thing, suguru thinks, that godforsaken love of his oozing out from honeyed pools that merely stare, running down his cheeks steadily and trying to find your own, even when you’re this fragile.

(like a ticking bomb.)

“you. . you’re not even listening,” you heave, your hands itching to clutch your chest because it hurts, doesn’t it? that little crack where your heart’s supposed to be?

(except that it’s far too painfully stretched now. what an odd one you are, thinking both your heart and his can fit in a coffin made only for one.)

maybe that’s why it hurts. you’re trying to fit in too much. but that’s okay. suguru’s here. he’ll teach you how. show you.

(because you just don’t. . know.)

“i am,” he hums, and tauntingly calm fingertips reach out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you open your mouth to argue. of course you do, suguru shakes his head a little— but oh well. taming a lamb with fangs too sharp was a chase he liked.

(a little too much for the good of either of you, though.)

“well, what did i—”

“you told me you want to cook yourself something,” you almost take a step back with how soft suguru sounds— like a blade wrapped in lace. “without me watching, or intervening.”

(something to soothe and corner at the same time. an injection to numb the pain.)

he watches your lips part. how words seem to falter at the tip of your tongue, hanging on for just a little more— before you decide to gulp them back down, eyes squeezing shut as if you’ve swallowed handfed poison.

(oh, but they are poison, though. suguru hears them even if you don’t say them out loud— they cry out to him before falling deeper and deeper and deeper in that broken clock you have for a body.)

that’s fine too. at least you’re full of your own words now, right? haah, that’s what you get for being too full of yourself.

(sorry. i promise i’ll see myself out very soon— just hang for a few more, alright? just a few more, you don’t wanna miss out on the juicy bits.)

“there, there,” and you’re balled up in sun kissed shackles one could call hands; soft, sticky little coos dripping from his lips all for you to swallow, “you’re crying again, sweetheart. what talk did we have about that, hm?”

you try to stop it, poor thing. you really do. but the tears just won’t cease. it’s like your body knows, even if you don’t— that’s suguru’s always gonna lick the blood off so you don’t have to.

(yours or his. doesn’t matter. his baby’s not doing the work and that’s final.)

“c’mon. use those words for me. you can do it f’me, yeah?”

(i can’t, you scream, and suguru hammers a nail against your little wooden chest.)

“n—. . no crying. i’m . . . i’m happy with you.”

“and?” just hold on for a little more. just a little more and he’s gonna fix the cracked edges of your voice so tenderly that you won’t even notice. you could at least do this much for him, right?

“i—i. . fuck, i love you. i’m sorry.”

a nod, and a sniffle, and those shattered words— that’s all it takes. the blade’s edges cease their lullaby, and the soft lace takes its place to wrap ‘round your throat instead.

“there you are,” suguru’s gathering up your pieces in his arms, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. “it’s alright, darling. i could never be mad at you.”

which is true— except when he wants to be. he’d never hurt you, though.

(he’s just gonna watch you do it yourself.)

“you go about throwing a tantrum like that again, and you’re gonna kill me one of these days,” he huffs, running a calculated thumb right against your nape.

(right against the mark he left. not a claim, silly, no. just a reminder.)

“but you are sorry, and that’s all that matters,” a puff of breath against your nose and all the wind gets knocked out of your lungs, when he’s carrying you back to your room again, “now you get some sleep whilst i cook you something, alright?”

you close your eyes, lips brushing against the hollow of his throat. you don’t like how he bares it to you so easily. like he’s giving you a chance, letting you play.

“poor thing,” suguru’s words slide down your throat, “you’re so tired, hm?”

“. . . yeah,” you spit them back out, and he smiles.

. . . that’s all i had to say, mate. you’re onto this pretty far deep, huh? can’t blame him, though. you really are a broken little lamb. okay, okay— i’m seeing myself out. way to kick me out of my own blog.

@d3cay1ngst4tic on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works without my permission.

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the-shedevil-writes · 2 days ago

Text

Too Sweet (Matt Murdock x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: Matt Murdock finds comfort in how sweet, soft, and endlessly happy you are. You are a warmth he never thought he deserved. He’s falling for you fast, but the guilt in his chest keeps him from putting a label on it. WORD COUNT: 3.7k WARNINGS: Fluff and pining. Slight miscommunication. Matt's stupid- I'm trying to write more fluff but this man is so ANGSTY bro. Grumpy X Sunshine MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!

She made love seem effortless, and Matt found that more intimidating than any mob boss, ninja, or assassin he’s had to face before. This whole relationship was new, with only a few dates so far. And even though Matt had dated and seen a handful of women in his life, he still felt so foreign to the particulars of Y/n.

She laughed so much. There was seldom a conversation where she wasn’t throwing her head back with a smile. Overall, she was an excitable woman. Whether it was a cute dog on the street or the bakery section of the grocery store, she always ended up squeezing his hand and practically jumping up and down. And as much as he wanted to match her excitement, he felt like he couldn’t. He adored just watching her and feeling the pure joy radiate off. But Matt wasn’t exactly going to start jumping up and down in his suit with her. So instead, he’d always let out a chuckle and support her moments of joy.

Around a month of dating without a label yet, he woke up to his phone reading out her name over and over, signaling she was calling him. He picked it up, rubbing his eyes. “Hello?” He groaned

“Good morning! Sorry to call you so early. Did I wake you?” She asked

His chuckle came out with that morning rasp, “Yeah, but it’s okay.”

“Sorry about that. I wanted to call before my workout class.” She started, and Matt smiled a little at the thought of her working out this early. That was the difference between them; she did all her work and living during the early day, and of course, he lived his life at night. She was all sun, and he was usually up in the dark.

She continued, “But I was gonna ask if it’d be weird for me to swing by with lunch for you? I was trying to do that whole meal prep thing and made way too many grilled cheeses…”

Her voice sounded nervous to ask, and that just made him want to ‘aw’. They were in an awkward part of their relationship. They were starting to dip into more serious territory. But neither of them wanted to assume anything and dive into the deep end. Was coming by his office with lunch too much, too soon? He didn’t think so.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think grilled cheese is something you meal prep. It’s gonna get soggy and old pretty fast-”

Her little gasp over the phone made him fully laugh now.

“DUH! Dairy. Oh my god. Well, that’s okay. That just means Foggy and Karen can have some sandwiches too.” She said, so quick to make the mistake positive.

“We’d love to have you.” He said, “And your still fresh grilled cheeses.”

She groaned, slightly embarrassed. “Okay. I’ll see you then! Keep your stomach empty!”

“Will do. Bye.” And when he hung up the phone, there was a fluttering feeling in his chest. It was something he wasn’t very familiar with. He was usually so confident around women, yet, for some reason, the girl calling him at seven AM about grilled cheese made him feel things he thought only existed in books.

At work, Matt was on the edge of his seat waiting for her. Every little noise. Every creak and step on the street below the office, he listened to it and ruled it out whether it was her or not. It was difficult to focus when he knew he’d get to smell her fruity perfume that drove him crazy and eat her cooking soon.

Foggy leaned out of his office and called out, “Hey, anybody wanna get lunch with me?”

Matt quickly got up and walked out of his open office door.

“I wouldn’t. Y/n’s coming by with food for all of us.”

Foggy’s eyebrows raised as he looked over at Karen, who sat at the front desk with a knowing smile.

“Ohhhhh… Coming by with lunch for you. Things are getting serious.” Foggy sang, leaning on the wall.

He waved him off and rolled his eyes. “She just made too much food that was gonna spoil.”

“It’s okay to be dating someone, Matt.” Karen said, “It’s nice to see you actively committing to someone.”

“You guys make it official yet?” Foggy asked

Matt shook his head, “Uh- no. We’re taking it slow.”

And by that, he meant that he specifically was taking it slow. She was very good at respecting his boundaries and making sure they lived their own separate lives, which he appreciated. Because the feelings he felt towards her were all-consuming. He knew that if he let himself indulge in her, he’d never leave her apartment… Or even better, her bed. She was so distracting in all the best ways possible.

Plus, there was the matter of him feeling that he couldn’t possibly deserve her. It didn’t matter if he was handsome or ugly. Or the fact that he had dated supermodels in the past. Y/n was so joyful and carefree, and he… wasn’t. He felt like a parasite leeching off of her and dampening her joy. That if he continued to see her, she’d eventually run out of sunshine to give. He hated that.

“I have a good feeling about this one. She’s not your usual type.” Foggy said, grabbing his coffee mug from his desk and walking back.

Matt shook his head with raised brows. “And what’s my usual type?”

Foggy scoffed at that with a little ‘oho-’

“Let’s just put it this way. If there’s a stunning woman with questionable character in the room, Matt Murdock’s gonna find her. And Foggy Nelson is gonna suffer.” He pointed towards him, making Karen laugh

“Is she not stunning?” Matt furrowed his brows with a smirk

“Smokeshow.” Foggy said, “I don’t know how you manage to find every hot woman in New York while being blind as a bat. It’s like you’ve got a Babe Radar or something.”

Karen laughed, “Just be happy that Matt’s found someone, Fogs. Even if she’s significantly more stable than any of his exes.”

He rolled his eyes again, and in divine timing, the faint smell of vanilla and lemon wafted near. Matt’s head whipped over to the door before she even opened it, signaling the bell to chime.

Y/n poked her head in to see the three standing there. She smiled and came in holding a flowery lunchbox that was sure to have the sandwiches inside. She was dressed like the definition of a Park Avenue princess. In a pink and brown Burberry blouse paired with a sweet white skirt, she looked straight from a romantic comedy. Her hair was held back nicely by a white headband.

Sure, she was gorgeous. But Foggy and Karen had come to know Matt’s type as the girls who looked effortlessly sexy. Tight dresses and red lipstick. Models and strong women in high CEO positions. Women who could step on you. Y/n owned the romantic bookstore a few blocks down, which was powerful in its own right, considering how difficult it was to snag retail property in New York. But it was safe to say that to Foggy and Karen, it was a surprise every time they saw her.

“Hi guys!” She smiled and walked over to Matt, who was already making his way over.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said gently, leaning down to kiss her. He’d been waiting all morning, and now just wanted to keep his face in the crook of her neck. Her perfume was like a sedative. It relaxed him. “I’m sure you look lovely today.”

She smiled at that, and he could hear her heartbeat ramp up just slightly. He loved that. Her heartbeat was almost always changing with her excitement. So it made him happy to know that it sped up when he talked to her. It was like he had Pavlov dogged himself into doing things she liked just for the chance to hear her heartbeat spike.

“I got the goods.” She said, grinning, “Foggy, Karen, I was totally dumb and was like ‘I’m gonna start meal prepping’ and I meal prepped grilled cheeses until Matt reminded me that was a bad idea.” She said, walking over and putting the lunchbox on Karen’s front desk. “They’ve mozzarella, got tomato, red peppers, and mushrooms.”

Foggy rubbed his hands together. “My god, I’m in heaven.” He said, watching her pull out the wrapped sandwiches, giggling at his comment.

Matt came up behind her and put his hand on her lower back as she organized and counted the sandwiches. She looked back up at him and smiled. He couldn’t see it, yet he could feel her contentment, hear her heartbeat slow, and of course, feel when she reached up to scratch the back of his head gently.

“Patience, Murdock. Let me feed your friends too.” She joked.

Matt laughed and kissed her temple.

The next few weeks were only sweeter. She started bringing by lunch more often. Not every day because that would be insane. But she’d call him some mornings and ask if she could swing by with something else she made.

The dates only got better as they got more comfortable with each other. She’d bring over new desserts to try, and they’d spend the night in Matt’s candlelit apartment. She’d plan out dates and go with him to places around New York. Tactile adventures specifically for him. Picnics and pottery making. Dancing. No movies or museums because there wasn’t a point for him. They slowly fell into little routines and planned out more adventures and excursions.

But the longer this went on, as they went over two months without either of them putting a label on things, Y/n started getting nervous. Did he not want anything serious with her? She had been trying to keep things slow for him, but they saw each other practically every other day. Why wouldn’t he ask? She didn’t want to bring it up because she didn’t want to rush him.

It gets to a certain point, though. And she was hitting the point where she was unsure if Matt really wanted her… or just wanted free lunch.

The doorbell rang, and she naturally smiled at the idea of Matt at the door. She ran over and opened it.

“Hi!” She smiled.

“Hi.” His voice was smooth as a smirk overtook him, and he casually wrapped his arms around her waist. They both backed into the apartment. “How was your day?” He shut the door behind him.

She reached up to kiss him, but he pulled back teasingly. So she answered, “Boring. Just work and cleaning the apartment.” She leaned up again, and he spun her around, making her pull back with a laugh. No kiss yet.

“Yeah? Wanna tell me more?” He reached up and brushed her hair out of her face and behind her ear. Looking up at him with big eyes, she huffed, and he laughed, knowing exactly what she wanted. He leaned down and kissed her gently.

She sighed, relieved, and pressed her lips against his. Begrudgingly, she pulled back to rest her forehead against his and look up at him through her brows.

“How was your day?” She asked with a small smile.

“Just as boring.” He rasped before tilting her face up to kiss him again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed herself to get lost in him. He always smelled of apples and clean laundry. And it surprised her, as most men in New York would go for a more masculine Dior Sauvage type scent. But he smelled warm and inviting rather than cold and steelish.

It was intoxicating. But as they continued, she felt… off. Her worries were flurrying through her mind, and she couldn’t silence them. Even as Matt moved down to kiss the pulse point of her neck, she took a deep breath- not in pleasure, but in an attempt to relax.

Matt almost immediately sensed this. “What’s wrong?” He asked, pulling away, not before landing a few kisses on her face.

She smiled, unable to resist the giggle he spurred on. But then it sadly dropped.

“What are we doing?” She asked softly, nervous beyond comprehension.

“We’re kissing,” Matt replied as teasing as ever.

“No, Matt, I mean… what’s the plan here?” She asked seriously, looking up at him. His hands moved back down to her waist, keeping her close but with enough distance to actually talk. “We’ve been seeing each other for two months… Are we…?”

He gave her a sad-looking smile. “I-I don’t know.” He admitted

That hurt. That really hurt. Why wouldn’t he know? She stepped back and out of his hold.

“Are you seeing someone else?” She asked

He shook his head, “No. No, I’m not.”

“Well, I’m not either, so why don’t we move forward?” She crossed her arms.

Matt sighed and walked toward her. “I just-” He was hesitant, and that hurt, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

And for the first time, she scoffed. She actually shook her head and scoffed. It surprised him to see his happy girl so… jaded. It just furthered his beliefs.

“What you don’t get about that cringy line is that you’re hurting me right now.” She said, and she couldn’t help the tears that sprang in her eyes.

Matt’s face dropped in shock. This wasn’t right. This didn’t feel right. She was crying, and it felt like the earth was shattering.

He walked forward, “Hey-hey. I just- I need more time.”

“I feel like you’d know.” She explained, “I feel like if you actually liked me, you’d know by now.”

And she wasn’t wrong, but also-

“I do like you. I like you so much.” Matt said, feeling like an embarrassed school boy confessing a crush. “I just… I have a lot that comes with dating me.”

And when she sighed exasperated, throwing her hands up, he continued.

“I mean it. I really mean it. You just don’t know.” He said.

She looked up at him and let him walk forward to wipe the tears off her cheeks. It felt like a loss for her. All her friends would’ve told her to run for the hills. But… this was Matt. This was the nicest, most charming, and smartest guy she had ever met. She wanted to keep this going. Even if she felt awful for letting him lead her on.

He kissed her forehead. “How about I cook us dinner and you search for a movie?”

“None of the good ones have audio descriptions.” She sniffled.

God. She really was too sweet for him.

“Or you can pick a book we can read. Or a game. Whatever you want, sweetie.”

“Okay…”

He just wanted to fix everything. Yet the so-called man without fear… was too anxious to initiate.

It was a full week of brooding and sulking. Matt knew he was wrong. Matt knew he had messed up big time. Especially when she didn’t come by with any lunches that week. She wouldn’t initiate calls, and they hadn’t seen each other in person since.

He sat at his desk, practically snapping his pencil in half with one hand. His whole body was tense without her there to relax him. It had only been two months, and going cold turkey on her felt impossible. He didn’t want to return to life without her. No guessing what fruit her perfume was based on. No laughter that pierced through the air. And no heartbeat to favor. Without her to think about, he felt like he was drowning in overstimulation and negativity all the time.

“Someone’s in the dog house,” Foggy said, peeking his head in. “No lunches this week.”

Matt sighed and put his head in his hands, “Shut up, Foggy.”

His friend walked in and shut the door, quickly realizing this wasn’t a joke. “Oh no… Dude, what happened?”

He leaned back and dropped the pencil on his desk, defeated, “I messed up. I haven’t asked her to be official, and she naturally assumed it was because I was using her.”

“Otherwise, why not.” Foggy completed the thought.

Matt nodded. “Bingo.”

The redhead pulled out the chair and sat down in front of Matt.

“Well… why not?”

“Come on, Foggy. You’ve seen her.” He said, “She’s the happiest girl in the world, and I beat guys up in a mask at night. I drink whiskey to go to sleep. And I’m not… this carefree guy. I’m not the kind of guy who dances with her when she does. I-I’m not… good for her.”

Foggy sighed and looked at Matt. He put his cheek in his hand and raised his brows. He was much more of a romantic than Matt was. “But you love her, right?”

The L Word. It was very early for The L Word.

“I-” He started to deny, but then he realized there was no point. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. She lights up my day- my life.”

“Okay, I’m hurt.” Foggy joked, raising his hands.

“She’s kind to everything and everyone. Dogs. Kids. Strangers. She’s so fun. And- and she doesn’t care what other people think about her. She’s so… just her.” Matt went on. There was a pained expression behind his loving words.

Foggy groaned. “Jesus, save it for when you go talk to her.”

Matt shook his head, “I think I missed my shot.”

“You obviously love her. Do you think that she could’ve loved you?”

Now there was no denying that. She was the one doing so much of the initiating. She was the one bringing lunch for him and being ever so thoughtful about everything. Matt slowly nodded.

“Then go. Go commit, asshole.” Foggy said, “Stop being edgy and self-deprecating and actually get your girl. If she loves you, then why the hell is there a problem?”

Well that was a swift kick in the ass. Matt’s eyes widened, and he stammered, but Foggy cut him off.

“If you don’t, I’m gonna swoop in myself. Y/n doesn’t seem like the type to homie hop but-” Matt laughed, “Okay! Okay. I’ll stop being an ass.”

Matt showed up at her specialty book shop that sunset. He had only been a few times, and he’s realizing how he should’ve been there more. He could smell the pink flowers that climbed up the blue wooden columns against the brick building. They rustled in the breeze. Sensing the decorations and hand-painted signs that she had put up. She had put so much love into one of the most decrepit buildings in Hell’s Kitchen. Now kids were running past it laughing.

It was right when Y/n showed up at the door to turn the sign from open to closed, when she saw him standing there with a bag of Mediterranean food. Slowly opening it, she took in the sight of him. He looked like a wreck. His hair was messy. His tie was too loose. And she could see the bags under his eyes poking out under the rims of his red glasses. The orange sunset hit him beautifully and reflected his red lenses onto the sidewalk.

“Am I too late to bring you lunch?” He sounded pained.

“Matt…” She said softly, “Come in.”

He felt like he wanted to go on his knees in front of her. Her soft voice welcoming him in was the biggest relief he had felt in over a week. He trailed her in with his tail between his legs.

The bookstore was gorgeous. Cozy but spacious, as aspen bookshelves lined the long walls. Matching tables had book displays up for different types of romances. It was warm and tender: a true reflection of her. Matt set the food bag down on one of the emptier tables.

She shut the door and changed the sign to closed. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been distant.” “Don’t apologize to me,” Matt said, sounding like he was aching all over. “Are you kidding me? Y/n, I’m sorry. I threw every… stupid excuse I could because I was scared.”

She blinked, taken aback. “I shouldn’t have rushed you-” She said softly.

“You should’ve. You should’ve because I’ve known for a while that I want a future with you, but I didn’t want to admit it.” He explained

Her face dropped. Sucking in a deep breath she leaned her hand on one of the display tables. “Why didn’t you want to admit it? What’s wrong with me?”

He walked forward closer to her. “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”

Her brows furrowed. What kind of answer was that? She studied his desperate face with skepticism.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Matt sighed. “You are sweet and thoughtful, while this is maybe the third time I’ve been to your bookshop. You’re always up at the crack of dawn when I can’t even get out of bed at ten. You love everything and everyone… and I’m too much of a coward to do so.” He explained, “You deserve someone who is going to dance with you in the grocery store aisle when you do. Not a guy like me.”

“Matt, I like all those parts of you.” She walked forward and raised her hand to his cheek. “Because even though you’re not throwing your arms up and dancing with me… you’re smiling and nodding your head. And even though you’re not getting up at the crack of dawn, you’re going to bed with me at my grandma bedtime. You’re there for me. Whether you know it or not… You’re sweet, too.”

He looked down at her with a sad smile. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he couldn’t believe it. It felt so good to be this close again. And she smelled like pineapple. He hadn’t blown his chances after all.

“I was so worried I blew it there,” Matt admitted.

“Mmm… Just a little.” She teased with a small smile, “I’m waiting to see if you’ll do it again.”

He chuckled and shook his head, looking down at his shoes before looking at her again. “Please. Please be official with me. Can I be your boyfriend?”

The smile that lit up her face could’ve powered the whole store. She nodded.

“Absolutely.” She leaned in and just before reaching his lips, she added, “Thank you for asking.”

Their lips pressed together, and Matt had never felt more relaxed in his life. Her lips savored of strawberry gum, and it was addictive. He pulled her in closer, never wanting to let her go again. How could he when his girl tasted so sweet?

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unluckyleprechaun · 2 days ago

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Its the DCxDP comedy hour!!

***

Catwoman sitting on a shed roof that allows her to watch the wayne manor backyard. Eating popcorn with a flip phone recording a very amusing scene.

Two rich fruit loop bastards are arguing about how to get inside Wayne Manor. The first. Obviously Ra's blabbing about needing to get to the Drake child. Greatest detective. To "control the mind." The second seems indignant at Ra's rant. Straightening his suit. He finally speaks"yes yes that is all well and good. Yes you are here for drake. I am here for fenton. Your brilliant plan of catapult worked. But now how do we get inside?"

"tch. As if that would be an issue. I brought rope. We can throw the hooks and climb through the windows." Ra's says.

The other man rolls his eyes"or i can just transform and ghost us in undetected."

"oh pf course masters with the plan! Dont you think ive studied this home long enough to know its warded against ghosts?!" And the two men continue to bicker.

"you think a grappling hook will work? There is nothing to grasp on this place! And the minute the glass on the windows break it goes on lockdown! What do you expect to do then?"

Meanwhile catwoman is surprised at their audacity to do this in the middle of the day. They have about 2 hours before the waynes return home which means shotgun alfred is home. Alone. This will be good. She watches a while longer as they attempt to enter the manor. The grappling hooks were the only way they entered. Unfortunately for them they set off the alarms.

Meanwhile inside...

"great im going to stay ghost and invisible. If they cant see me. They cant arrest me." Vlad says grinning before disapearing.

"you chicken shit bastard! You coward! Fight like a man you were intended to be! Immortal or not!" Fine! I will handle Batman on my own." ra's says. He does in fact not make it far before being detained by damian and dick.

Jason riding up fast on his motorcycle and being on standby as a gaurd til bruce and tim can get home. They are stuck at WE for civillian work. Meanwhile Danny is pretty sure there is more to this than it seems. He senses other ghosts. And getting more and more nervous before he instinctively turns ghost himself but remains solid. This has Vlas written all over it.

When everyone gets back to the cave Selina shows up all catty and plugs in the phone for them to enjoy the show of failure. It is very entertaining.

#danny phantom crossover #dcxdp #danny phantom #dc x dp crossover #dc prompt #dc x dp

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howlingday · 19 hours ago

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Jaune's Funeral

Saphron: (Lifeless, Sitting quietly)

Jaune: (Ghost, Floating by) Whoa... Looks like everybody from Beacon is here! And they're all laughing at me! Probably just doing this to look good!.

Ren: Easy, Pyrrha... Take it easy...

Pyrrha: Jaune... JAUNE~! (Sobs)

Jaune: Is she... really that upset?.

Russel: Cardin, calm down!

Cardin: SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET GO OF ME!

Jaune: What the- Cardin?!.

Cardin: DAMN YOU, ARC! YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GIVE UP 'CAUSE YOU'RE SCARED OF ME?!

Dove: Cardin, c'mon! People are mourning here!

Cardin: I'm not leaving! Not until he comes out here and fights me like a man!

Lark: He can't do that 'cause he's-

Cardin: WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, ARC, I'M GONNA MAKE YOU WISH YOU NEVER MET ME! YOU HEAR ME?! (Tears well) Who do you think you are, huh?! Friggin' punk! Who'm I gonna fight now, huh?! WHO'M I GONNA FIGHT?!

Dove: He's gone, Cardin! He's gone!

Cardin: RAAAAAAAAGH! (Punches picture) Y- You're supposed to be here! F- For me... (Weeping)

Russel: C'mon, boss... Let's go...

Cardin: (Dragged out, Sobbing)

Lark: S- Sorry about all that...

Cardin: NOOOOO! (Chokes) NOOOOOOOO!

Jaune: I... never would've seen that coming...

Emerald: You see that?

Mercury: Ah, who cares? Only downside to all of this was that those idiots didn't get killed, too.

Cinder: I'd watch what you say, you two. The last thing we want is people looking at us as their enemies.

Mercury: Oh, please, I know exactly the kind of guy he was; he's the dumb starry-eyed kid who thought he'd make a difference by throwing his life away to save some kid he never met... just to look good in front of whatever girl was watching him.

Cinder: Well, I'm certainly not going to argue that.

Jaune: Those... jerks! It's my funeral and they're just here to make fun of me?! If I could get my hands on them, I'd- (Reaches out)

Goodwitch: (Grabs Mercury and Cinder) Honestly, I was upset by Mr. Winchester's emotional outburst, but everything you two just said has pushed me into a violent temper.

Jaune: Professor Goodwitch...?.

Goodwitch: (Passes, Walks up to Saphron) My condolences for the loss of your brother. Please allow me to say a few kind words.

Saphron: ...

Goodwitch: (Approaches Jaune's picture, Sighs) I can't help but feel responsible, Jaune. Your heart was kinder than anyone else's, but my inability to prepare you for the world has led you to make the ultimate sacrifice before you could even think of graduating. You... It may be impolite to speak ill of you, but I am nothing if not honest. (Shaking) You were my weakest student, which only makes it all the more frustrating to never see you become the strong huntsman you could have become! If only I had just believed in you more!

Saphron: ...Jau...ne... (Breaks down)

Jaune: ...

Terra: Over here, Adrian.

Adrian: (Toddles next to her)

Terra: (Sets Adrian down, Prays)

Adrian: (Looks to her, Prays)

Terra: ...Do you understand what's going on? What all of these people are doing here? (Picks him up) He saved your life, and all these people are grateful to him for it. He was a kind man to have so many friends, and I want you to be like him and become a kind man yourself. (Approaches Saphron) Thank you for inviting us.

Terra: (Walking home with Adrian in her arms) There will be people who make you angry. There will be people who make you sad. But the people who you make happy will be the ones who will show you just how much your life is worth. And I want you to be the one who makes everyone around him happier than you could possibly be. (Hugs)

Pyrrha: (Sobbing)

Cardin: (Screaming)

Goodwitch: (Shaking)

Jaune: (Floating above, Watching them all)

#rwby #yu yu hakusho #jaune arc #cardin winchester #saphron cotta arc #glynda goodwitch #cinder fall #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #russel thrush #dove bronzewing #sky lark #terra cotta arc #adrian cotta arc #mercury black #emerald sustrai

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thejukeboxzero · 3 days ago

Text

You got it boss ____

The Novak manor is massive, breathtaking, and Dean could probably spend hours gawking at the intricate details in every pillar, in every trim. It’s also absolutely bursting with people.

Everyone is dancing, drinking, dressed up to their heart's content. He can’t help but feel slightly self conscious, adjusting the second-hand knight costume they’d scrounged up for him, trying not to look too conspicuous amongst the partygoers.

Sam and Benny have no such problems, immediately dispersing amongst the crowd as if they were born to be there, and maybe they were. Maybe fate has brought them to this moment.

Fate, after all, is the only explanation for the angel Dean catches sight of on the dance floor.

Dark waves, a scruffy face, and tan skin commands his attention, as does the fluffy white pair of wings fixed to the man's broad shoulders by a powder blue scarf.

Blue seems to be this man's whole scheme, actually.

There’s a blue sash around his waist too, and his pants are the color of the night sky, and his eyes-

Dean sees them only once, as the angel is spun around by a portly man in an expensive black suit, but he’d be willing to bet money that never has someone had eyes so shockingly blue.

He’s breathtaking.

For all the grief he gave his friends about attending this party, he’s suddenly very grateful they hounded him into attending, or else he might have missed this.

At once the music ends, and Dean feels his heart catch in his throat as the angel smiles at his suitor politely before turning on his heel and hurrying away.

The Winchester tails him closely, waiting till he comes to rest in a secluded corner, far away from the boisterous party, occupied by a- rather excessive looking- fish tank and not much else.

He examines the fish, the rippling reflection of the angel mirroring him from the other side as they both move in front of the glass, the only distinguishable point being the clear blue specks staring at him curiously.

The glass drops out of view as he reaches the edge and Dean is left facing the man that must have been sent by Him above.

Electricity shoots up his spine as he’s looked over from head to toe like he’s being examined and, before the man can make any split second judgment, Dean steps forward, already speaking.

“Heaven must be in mourning, to be missing an angel such as yourself.” He clasps the man's hand in his own and bends at the hip, lips brushing across beautifully tan skin, "This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this.”

He straightens back up, not letting go of the fingers in his grasp yet.

If he lets go he might be abandoned, and he doesn't think his so-called ‘tender heart’ could not take such a thing.

“I am no holy being,” The angel mumbles, cheeks blushing a brilliant red as he stares at their connected palms, though he does not try to free himself, “Saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch.”

Dean grins roguishly, “Do they not have lips as well?”

The angel's face drops into a stern frown, like he might reprimand Dean at the suggestion of such sacrilege.

“For worship.”

“Then, dear saint, Angel,” He pulls the stranger away, down a hall left abandoned by the festivities, “Let lips do what hands do.”

“Saint’s do not run off like this,” The angel grumbles, allowing himself to be pulled along, “Though… I suppose they do grant prayers.”

Dean finds an alcove, safely away from prying eyes, and looks to his companion with a hopeful grin, “Then maybe you’ll grant mine?”

The angel’s eyes widen for a moment, and the Winchester feels a twinge of fear. Maybe he’s overstepped, gone too fast, maybe this man is already engaged to another, then there’s lips atop his own and all his worries melt away.

“Your-” Dean chuckles under his breath between moments of bliss, “Your lips have cleansed the sin from mine.”

There’s a laugh from the man pressed against him.

“Then my lips now have your sin on them.” The angel mumbles back, forehead against Dean’s, a smile dancing its way onto his face.

He could look at that smile for eons.

“Sin from my lips?” He pretends to be shocked, pulling back to look at him with wide eyes, “You’ve committed such a theft? Give me back my sin.”

He almost doesn't manage another kiss through the giggles bubbling up in his chest, though it warms him to see that the angel seems to be having a similar struggle.

“You kiss as though you’ve studied the act.”

Dean feels his face flush at the statement, though he doesn't break away, he just… compartmentalizes the embarrassment of being told he kisses like he watches plenty of porn for another day, a day that he’ll allow to be ruined.

They stay interlocked for a few more moments, nothing more than lips and teeth and prayer to the lord above for the moment to last forever.

Of course, nothing can truly last for the rest of eternity.

From down the hall someone clears their throat and the angel practically leaps away from Dean, pressing himself against the far wall as they both search for whoever intruded on their moment.

The intruder is a short man, who walks with the energy and authority of men thrice his size, his golden hair slicked back out of his face, his amber eyes narrowed as he approaches the angel.

“Your mother wants to speak to you.”

“I-” The angel looks between Dean and the newcomer in panic, face scrunching up in apology before he turns his back on the Winchester, “Of course.”

He watches the angel make a hasty exit, forcing himself to restrain from giving chase and demanding a name, a phone number, anything that would mean he would see this man again.

“Who is his mother?” Dean eventually asks, after a long awkward moment of standing alone with the new stranger.

The stranger who scoffs and rolls his eyes like Dean is incompetent for asking such a question, “She’s the lady of the house. A god-fearing, virtuous woman.” He emphasizes the word like he’s implying Dean is far from her high moral standards, “I’ve watched after her son since we were kids, and let me tell you, whoever marries him now will live a prosperous life.”

Then, much like the angel, he too walks away, though he does so with much more conviction, head held high, even when Sam’s towering frame comes around the corner, nearly knocking them both on their asses.

Oh god, he finds himself slumping against the wall for support.

His mother is the lady of the house? This house?

But that would make her a Novak.

That would make the angel a Novak.

Dean Winchester, in a brilliantly cruel turn of events, has allowed his heart to be snatched away by a Novak.

“Dean-” Sam’s running up to his brother, a fanatic air surrounding him, like he too has witnessed the true box of chaos Dean has just broken open, “Let’s go, let’s go now. While everything is still perfect.”

“Yeah, it’s perfect now,” He bemoans as Sam ushers him down the hall, presumably so they can make a swift exit and meet up with Benny before they disappear into the night, leaving the Novak mansion far behind, “But it’s never gonna’ be perfect again...”

____ Rest assured, a full fic is in progress, but I'm not sure when I will finish it so, for now, I wanted to give y'all a little treat.

For those of you wondering about the fish tank, look below the cut :)

The COMPOSITION of these shots gets me every time, aghghhhhhh

Spn Romeo+Juilette AU but it ain't an AU they just got cursed to only speak in old English, so their lives are more along the lines of Baz Luhrmann's 1996 interpretation-

There's shootouts and car chases and everything else, but Dean’s also running around biting his thumb at enemies...

ON THE OTHER HAND THO-

If it is more of an AU, then we'd get the stunning fits...

Imagine Cas+Dean in the iconic Angel and Knight costumes

That's all, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

#I listened to 'Like a Prayer' by Madonna while writing this #it seemed fitting at the moment #Also y'all I don't think I have the heart to gank 'em in the end #I just don't think I have it in me #they already suffer so much in cannon they should be provided sanctuary in fannon #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #supernatural #jukebox 78s

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whitecompri · 3 days ago

Note

Can we get hedgie dogs reacting to the birth of their daughter? 🥹

First Time Daddy

Pairing: Sonic x Reader; Shadow x Reader; Silver x Reader; Scourge x Reader

Genre: Fluff, light comedy

Rating: G (General Audience)

Warnings: Mention of labor pain

A/N: Thanks for the request! When I first saw this, I almost immediately had the idea for the Scourge part, mainly because I had seen a funny news story that happened here in my country, I'll leave the link to the story below so as not to give spoilers, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head to do it based on it, and I think it turned out really cool, not only the Scourge part, but the others too. I hope you like it!

Sonic

His ears twitched nonstop, picking up all the irritating sounds in the room—beeping, monitors, doctors’ conversations. His green eyes scanned the room, watching the nurses and doctors move around, before returning to you in the center of the room, sweating, panting, and groaning, indicating just how close you were to giving birth.

Sonic stood leaning against the wall closest to you, arms crossed, foot tapping rapidly on the floor. He chose that corner to give space for the nurses to work, even though he’d rather spend every second by your side.

His eyes were focused on you, analyzing every expression you made after a contraction. He grabbed his own arm, squeezing it slightly.

You turned your face toward him slightly, managing a small smile through your heavy breathing.

"I didn’t know it was gonna hurt this much..." you muttered, gritting your teeth between contractions.

"Look at it this way, you always say you like surprises, right? You definitely weren’t expecting this one." He smirked slightly as he responded.

"Are you seriously making jokes right now?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"You bet I am... maybe a little laughter helps with the pain, huh?"

Sonic pushed off the wall and walked over to your side, immediately reaching for your hand. When you felt his touch, you noticed—his hand was trembling subtly, though he masked it well, holding yours firmly.

Even though his expression was relaxed, these little signs said otherwise. It was rare to see him like this. He was usually always calm and in control.

"Are you gonna faint?" you asked him, breathless.

"Faint? Me? Pfff. No way, I’m not missing a single second of this. If I could, I wouldn’t even blink." he shot back with a half-smile, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"You seem nervous..." your eyes scanned his face.

Sonic took a deep breath, raised his free hand, and ran it through his quills, smoothing them. He didn’t respond right away, seeming lost in thought for a moment. He was still trying to process this decisive moment in his life.

So many things ran through his mind—about you, your daughter, this long-awaited moment, the future awaiting your family. And above all, he thought about the fact that he was going to be a dad. The realization that this was real and about to happen left him speechless.

He noticed when a stronger contraction twisted your expression in pain, and he gripped your hand tighter.

"Y’know..." he murmured. "I hate just standing here... watching, helpless, not being able to help you." He gently ran a hand along your cheek.

Your hand rested on his.

"But you’re here... and that’s everything to me."

His gaze immediately softened, filled with love and admiration. A genuine smile spread across his muzzle.

That’s when his attention was pulled away by the doctor speaking.

"She’s crowning! Come on, push hard!"

Sonic’s eyes widened instantly.

"Oh man..."

"What?" you asked, breathing heavily.

"My heart’s racing..." he laughed. "So this is what being nervous feels like, huh?"

You wanted to laugh too, but the pain was overwhelming.

At that moment, minutes felt like hours. His comforting hand squeezed yours tightly. And then, the cry rang out. That high-pitched, small, yet powerful sound.

Sonic watched the nurses move around as they performed the first procedures. He brought your hand to his muzzle and placed a small kiss on it.

Then the nurse came over with a tiny bundle wrapped in pink blankets, carefully placing it in your arms.

Sonic froze, his jaw dropping slightly as his wide eyes stared in awe at the little blue hedgehog in your arms.

It was as if the world had stopped for him in that moment.

You held your little one with a look of joy and contentment, then turned your gaze to Sonic, immediately noticing the shine in his green eyes. He wasn’t crying, but he seemed completely stunned by the scene before him.

"Just look at her..." he whispered, hesitantly reaching out toward his daughter.

"She looks just like you..." you chuckled softly, adjusting her in your arms so he could get a better look.

Sonic ran his fingers along her forehead, as if touching the most fragile thing in the world, admiring her soft blue fur.

He gave a silly smile, looking at you.

"Dang... you’re the bravest person I’ve ever seen..."

"Me...?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you. You just brought this beautiful little princess into the world... That’s straight-up heroic... Thank you for this gift."

You smiled gently at him. Sonic sat next to you carefully, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his free hand still stroking the fur and soft quills of the tiny hedgehog girl.

"I’m just gonna say it—I got no clue how to be a dad." he said in a playful tone, finally breaking the silence, resting his chin on top of your head.

"I don’t know how to be a mom either." you replied quietly.

"We’ll learn... together, like we always do."

You relaxed against him, completely forgetting the exhaustion and pain from earlier, closing your eyes.

"If she inherits your speed... I think I’m doomed."

He laughed happily.

"You’re tellin’ me you don’t love the idea of two Speedy hedgehogs in your life?"

"Actually... doesn’t sound bad at all..." you murmured. He let out another soft laugh, kissing the top of your head.

He didn’t know where to start in this new life as a father, but he knew for sure—he was ready for whatever came next.

Shadow

The sound of monitors filled the room, and all that movement only heightened the anticipation of the black hedgehog.

At that point, he couldn’t tell if time was passing too fast—considering it felt like just yesterday he found out about the pregnancy—or too slow, since it felt like he’d been standing there for an eternity, waiting for the moment to come.

He stood beside you like a statue, arms crossed, almost completely still except for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and the movement of his eyes as they followed every motion of the doctors around and scanned to see how you were doing.

He crossed his arms tighter when he saw your expression twist slightly from another contraction. You were sweating, panting, preparing for the final moment.

Your eyes turned to him from time to time, searching for support—seeking his support, that strong pillar who had always stood by you through anything. But each time your eyes met his, he looked increasingly unsettled, even if his posture remained firm.

“Shadow...?” you called, your voice shaky as you tried to reach for his hand.

He reacted immediately, as if snapping back to reality. He moved even closer, resting one arm on the bed and grabbing your hand tightly, his touch bringing a warm and comforting feeling.

“...I’m here... Focus on your breathing...”

His voice came out firm and low. But you knew him too well not to notice the subtle touch of emotion in every word. Shadow was fighting an internal war.

He had already faced formidable enemies, survived near death, stared pain down countless times. But none of that had prepared him to see you in pain—and worst of all, to be unable to do anything to help.

Then you cried out again as another strong contraction hit.

He squeezed your hand tightly and leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. He heard the doctor say something about dilation and pushing, followed by a “You’re almost there...”

That was when he felt a tight grip around his heart. His heartbeat pounded violently, and he felt more tense than ever before. For a moment, he could barely breathe.

He was nervous, tense. He closed his eyes tightly.

In a flash of light, you felt his hand release yours, and the warmth of his forehead against yours vanished. With a crackle of energy, he disappeared from the room.

The nurses beside you widened their eyes in surprise, just like you, who looked at the spot where he had been moments before.

“Shadow?!” you called out, confused.

But before anyone could say anything or you could even start to panic, another bright flash of light—and there he was again, back in the same spot he had vanished from seconds earlier.

He was breathing heavily now, evident by the rapid movement of his chest, and his cheeks were clearly flushed.

“Sorry... I... I just needed five seconds... to breathe.”

Looking at his expression now, you let out a small nasal laugh. You had never seen him like that—it must have truly been an overwhelming moment for him to need to pause just to breathe.

“Nervous...?” you reached for his hand again. Your trembling hand held his.

“I held it together as much as I could...” He gripped your hand tighter.

“You’ve been through so much... you don’t need to be nervous.”

“Today is completely different from anything I’ve ever faced...” He took a deep breath. “...I’ve never felt like this before...” You nodded slightly at his words.

Then your conversation was cut short by the doctor’s voice.

“She’s crowning! Come on, Mama, it’s time to push!”

Shadow swallowed hard. You groaned and squeezed his hand so hard it cracked your knuckles. But he held on, enduring the sting in his hand as he witnessed one of the most important moments of his life.

And then, all that tension inside the hedgehog melted away when he heard the faint cry and the nurses' congratulations.

His red eyes followed the movement in the room intently, still holding your trembling hand.

Then, one of the nurses brought the baby over, gently placing her in your arms.

Shadow stared in awe. She was such a tiny, fragile creature, and he felt a tightness in his chest just from looking at the little hedgehog.

He slowly reached his hand out, as if afraid that even the slightest touch might hurt something so pure.

Finally, he brushed the back of his finger gently against her fluffy cheek. He ran his finger through her black fur, then over the red stripe on top of her head.

You looked at him with tenderness—he looked like he was under a spell, so focused on just gently petting his daughter.

“Shadow...”

“She looks like me...” his voice nearly broke, heavier with emotion than he had meant.

And for a second, when you looked at his face again, you saw a stubborn tear threatening to fall from his bright eyes.

“Yeah, definitely Daddy’s little girl...” You let out a soft laugh.

Shadow stayed like that for a while longer, silently watching the delicate little girl he had created. He could barely believe it.

He was a father now, and that realization made a powerful wave of protectiveness rise within him—he felt a burning need to protect her from any harm.

And in that moment, with his family, he also felt an immense peace inside.

“I’ll never let anything happen to her...” he said firmly.

“I know...” you replied softly.

“And she’s not gonna have any boyfriends either...”

“Okay, now you’re going too far.” You let out a playful laugh, even though you knew he was being completely serious. “I always knew you’d be a doting dad like this.”

He just let out a soft ‘hmph,’ still wearing that mix of determination and affection on his face.

Even if he was a first-time father, you knew he was going to be the best one of all.

Silver

The hospital hallway felt far too cold in that moment. Silver paced back and forth in front of the room, rubbing his hands together, trying to stop how much they were shaking.

Every so often, he took deep breaths, trying to calm his pounding heart, which was beating so hard that Silver almost believed it was about to burst out of his chest.

His head was full of a thousand thoughts and worries. He tried to focus his mind, but all the nervousness brought on by the moment was distracting him.

“You’re gonna be a dad today, Silver... a real dad...” he murmured to himself, repeating it like a mantra, as if trying to convince both his brain and his heart at the same time. Maybe, once he realized this was truly happening, it could ease some of his anxiety.

He had stepped out of the room a few moments earlier, his golden eyes watching the door. He wanted to go back in, but he thought his nervousness would only get in the way. He didn’t want to be a burden during such an important moment.

He jumped in surprise when the nurse suddenly opened the door.

“Mr. Silver? She’s asking for you...”

Taking another deep breath, Silver stepped forward with determination and walked back into the room. If you were calling for him, then he had to be strong to support you, too.

His eyes immediately found you again. He saw you panting, your face twisted in pain, and felt a tightness in his chest. Without wasting a second, he rushed to your side.

“I... I’m here!” he said, stopping at your bedside, grabbing your hand.

You smiled, despite the exhaustion, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Took you long enough...”

“I was...” he swallowed hard. “...talking to myself.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s okay... Are you feeling calmer now?” He looked away for a moment but quickly looked back at you, now more determined, though the nervousness was still clear on his face.

“Yes, yes! I feel better now...” You nodded at him. The doctor gave instructions while Silver remained there, not paying attention to anything except you, watching your tired expression.

He squeezed your hand tighter, but even then, he couldn’t stop his own hand from shaking. For a moment, he thought he might be even more nervous than you were.

He was truly trying to be as strong as he could. But this was different from anything he had ever experienced. It wasn’t a mission, or a battle, or some disaster to prevent.

It was a pure and delicate moment. But also frightening in a way he had never felt before.

“You’re gonna make it. I believe in you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

You groaned in pain at that moment, and a few silent tears slipped down your cheeks.

“Hey... hey, look at me...” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “I’m here. You’re strong. You’ve always been strong. Everything’s going to be okay. I believe in you... You’re being so strong, I’m so proud...”

He knew how hard it was. He knew you were exhausted. But he also knew he had never seen anyone as incredible as you in that moment.

Then the final moment came, and Silver clenched his eyes shut, just holding your hand as he heard your scream of pain.

But then he heard it—his ears twitching toward the most incredible sound he’d ever heard. That soft little cry filled the room.

He didn’t look right away, only listened to the nurses moving around. He gently kissed your forehead while you were still panting from exhaustion—he himself feeling suddenly mentally drained.

The nurse approached both of you, and Silver stepped aside a little, giving her space to place the baby in your arms—a tiny bundle of soft white fur, so small and delicate.

In that moment, Silver froze. Time seemed to stop and everything around him faded.

“I can’t believe it...” he murmured, his golden eyes wide.

You looked at him, still sweating and exhausted, but smiling softly as you whispered,

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

He nodded, unable to speak. His trembling hand reached out and touched her tiny, soft quills. When he felt the fluffiness of his daughter’s fur, he couldn’t help but let out a raspy, joyful chuckle.

When you looked at him, you saw his eyes glistening. He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears, but they began silently streaming down his cheeks anyway. He sniffled quietly, looking at you.

“You were amazing... You gave me the most incredible gift of my life...”

“Silver...” You felt the emotion rise in you too, to the point you were almost crying with him. “Here... hold her.”

Gently, you brought the baby closer to him. He quickly wiped his tears with his arm and immediately reached out. With the utmost care in the world, he took his daughter into his arms, holding her close to his chest.

“Hi, little one...” he whispered. “I’m your daddy... and I swear, I’m gonna be the best dad in the world for you, and I’m gonna give you the best world to live in...”

“You’re already the best dad in the world, Silver...”

He turned toward you, his eyes still damp, with the purest smile you had ever seen on him.

“Well... I think being the best dad in the world still isn’t enough for her... I’ll have to be even better.” You chuckled softly.

“I’m sure you will be...” You looked at him with admiration, seeing how deeply he already loved the tiny baby in his arms, and you knew with absolute certainty—he had been made to be a father from that moment on.

Scourge

While the whole room was bustling, Scourge was leaning against your bed, arms crossed, one leg bent, sunglasses pushed up on his forehead, and as always, wearing his signature jacket. He carried a confident smile on his face.

“Tch, this’ll be a breeze. I seen way worse. Ain’t no baby bein’ born gonna rattle me. I mean, c’mon — we talkin’ ‘bout me here.” He laughed confidently, running a hand along your arm to gently caress you.

“I just want to see your face... You won’t be able to handle the emotions...” you said, panting.

“Easy there, babe. Don’tcha worry — I can handle anythin’.” He said, still smiling, leaning in to kiss your forehead and squeezing your hand when you groaned in pain from a stronger contraction.

“She’s crowning, almost there!” the doctor said.

“Oh, I wanna see. I’m good ‘n ready to watch my kid be born.” He said, letting go of your hand.

“Scourge... no...” you tried to warn him, knowing him all too well and fearing how he might react.

“I ain’t scared o’ a little blood, alright? Relax.” He whispered, winking at you, stepping away and heading to the foot of the bed, just behind the doctor and nurses.

“Let’s see what we got here...” he said confidently, but the moment he caught sight of the scene, his eyes widened, his breath hitched, and his words died in his throat.

Scourge felt his vision blur and his balance waver.

You noticed his sudden silence, found it strange, and immediately grew worried.

But before you could even call for him, a loud thud filled the room.

Scourge collapsed backward onto the floor, his sunglasses flying across the room.

From where you were, you could see him sprawled out on the floor unconscious. You brought a hand to your face in embarrassment, but honestly, you weren’t even surprised.

“He said he could handle it, huh?” a nurse raised her brow.

“He did.” You watched two other nurses crouch down to check on him.

“They always say that.”

--*--

Slowly, Scourge opened his eyes, his blurry vision beginning to focus on the hospital room. He was sprawled out in a chair, a bit of ice resting against his head. He flinched slightly at the pain from the likely impact.

His eyes scanned the room, landing on your figure in the bed, staring back at him, completely unimpressed, while you held the baby in your arms.

“She’s already born...?” he asked, slowly sitting up, tossing the ice onto a nearby table. You gave him an amused smile.

“Yup... you missed it, tough guy.”

He stepped to your side, but when he looked at his daughter, his eyes immediately widened. He was speechless, his heart pounding as he looked at that delicate little creature.

She had light green fur, messy quills like his, her eyes still closed, peacefully sleeping in your arms.

“So this... is my daughter...” he said more to himself, trying to believe what he was seeing.

“That’s right.”

“I... I wanna hold her!” he said, more excited than he meant to.

You laughed, adjusting her in the blankets, reaching out. Scourge didn’t waste a second, holding her with all the gentleness he could manage.

A big, goofy smile spread across his muzzle. His expression softened in a way you’d never seen before. That is, until she let out a small yawn, and he froze, then burst out laughing with excitement.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me... She’s... perfect. Damn it, I already love this lil’ troublemaker way too much.” He hugged her closer to his chest.

He smiled crookedly, and you noticed his blue eyes starting to well up. When he realized you were watching him, he turned his back.

“There’s... way too much freakin’ light in this hospital, okay? That’s why my eyes look like this. I ain’t cryin’...”

But even so, you still heard him sniffle softly.

You couldn’t hold in your laughter. He really was impossible—but you were certain he’d be a great dad.

Bonus: Scourge’s Second Daughter

Once again, he was leaning against the bed, his hand intertwined with yours as you both waited for this moment once more. For you, it was the same anticipation, the same anxiety to meet your second daughter. For Scourge, he thought it’d be a walk in the park.

“I been through this once, babe. This time I’m emotionally bulletproof, swear on it.” he said with a confident grin on his face. “This time, I will see my kid bein’ born.”

You simply raised an eyebrow in silence.

“Really?” you questioned.

“Why ya makin’ that face? I’m ready this time, promise. Ain’t gonna be no hassle.” He winked at you.

“I can see the head! She’s starting to crown,” the doctor announced, making Scourge beam.

“Welp, better get over there. I ain’t missin’ this moment!” He leaned in to kiss your forehead. You just rolled your eyes, choosing not to stop him, though you still feared what was coming.

He once again stood behind the nurses, arms crossed.

“Look at her — she’s really comin’ out...” he said with a grin. His blue eyes locked on you, watching your face twist with pain. “See? Told ya I ain’t faintin’ this time!” he said proudly.

But when he looked again at the scene he had been so eager to witness, his eyes widened.

“...Okay, I ain’t never seen that part before...” he said, voice cracking slightly before he staggered back, his vision fading again.

And once more, you heard the loud, dull thud. Your eyes shifted to see Scourge passed out cold on the floor again.

“...Are you seriously fainting again?!” you said, exasperated—even knowing full well he couldn’t hear you.

--*--

He woke up later, groaning softly, feeling the ice pack against his head again.

His eyes immediately focused on you in the bed, holding the baby in your arms. Beside you, the older daughter sat on the bed, curiously watching her dad.

“This time... I managed to see a lil’ more...” he said, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Before hitting the ground again...” you replied with a smile. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Ugh... this one hurt more than the first...” he grumbled, slowly getting up from the chair he was slumped in and making his way over to you. He immediately reached out a finger to stroke the new baby’s forehead, then used his other hand to ruffle the older daughter’s quills.

“Ah, screw the pain. You two are worth every damn faint in the world.” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

You adjusted the baby in your arms and gently handed her to him to hold.

“Now I got two lil’ brats… And I love every single one o’ ya way more than I should.” He flashed that big, goofy grin again.

You smiled, tired but happy.

“Well, tough guy, how many fainting spells do you think it’d take for you to witness an entire birth?”

“Oh, I’d pass out a hundred times if I had to...” He smirked, showing his teeth.

“...I think you better settle for just two daughters then...” You laughed, watching him pout for a second, only to make that dopey face again when the little one stirred in his arms.

And you knew, under all that hardened exterior he had, deep down he was an amazing father — and he’d take just as good care of both little girls as he did of you, even if his parenting methods weren’t always the most conventional.

--*--

The News that inspired me

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #silver x reader #silver the hedgehog x reader #scourge x reader #scourge the hedgehog x reader

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