#(I say. like a child explaining their scribbles)

[dclovesdanny]

Dead on Main

4/5

Jason had always loved the drawings littering his arms. As soon as he knew how to write and had markers, he would write notes to his soulmate. He knew Danny like the back of his hand. Danny was the first person he said good morning too and the last person he said good night too.

He barely managed to scribble out a message to Danny before he died, apologizing.(He prayed Danny forgave him for leaving him alone.)

After Jason was resurrected, he didn’t know what to say to Danny. Danny still wrote on his arms, and Jason would be lying he said he didn’t look over those notes and feel tempted to write back. But Danny deserved better than what Jason could give him.

(the only person Jason ever showed the notes to was Damian. He would let the little Demon trace over them silently as he explained. He knew the league’s policy on soulmates was not kind. He hoped Talia would be kinder to the kid)

Then the writing started getting sloppier. The notes became those of a vigilante, the one thing he had hoped his soulmate wouldn’t have to be. Jason wasn’t supposed to leave the League. Jason should be working towards his revenge on The Joker, his plans for Gotham.

But then Danny wrote about Vlad. About the creepy guy that made his insides crawl and Jason couldn’t keep himself from clenching his teeth.(all of the trainees got used to Jason having some days where he was worse than others. Sometimes, the pit would rage inside of him at the thought of Lasters, but oddly enough messages from Danny seemed to ground him and make it harder for the Pit to control him)(maybe that’s why the league didn’t approve of soulmates.)

It was when the writings stopped that Jason really got worried and started preparing to leave. Talya caught him quickly, but was surprisingly willing to let him go. Her only request was that He took Damien with him. (Sometimes, he noticed how Talia wore the same sleeves that he did. He wondered sometimes if Talia only pretended not to have a soulmate.)

The last message that he got from Danny was the one that made him leave three weeks earlier than planned, with a demon child to his back, and guns ready to fire.

I never expected to be a teen dad. I’m kind of scared, but like hell I’m letting the fruit loop raise these kids.

I wish you were raising them with me.

[ellsarchive]

Theo Nott Headcannons!! *.•

*.-{{ellsarchive}}-.*

Rebelogs are appreciated <3!!

Either sleeps for at least half of the day or never sleeps at all. This man has never had a normal nights sleep.

—> once, the Slytherins won the house cup. I kid you not when I tell you he didn’t sleep for two days and then slept for 20 hours straight.

Has never been angry in English

—> stubs his toe? Italian. Betrayed? Italian. Someone acting up? ITALIAN.

His arm WILL be around you at all times times whether you like it or not. Whether that’s an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the halls, a hand on your waist when you sit together, or arms wrapped around you as you sleep, is for you to find out.

Actually very loyal when in a relationship, but if he’s hung up on you whilst single he’s the most promiscuous man known to the wizarding world. It’s one of few distractions, in his eyes.

Speaks to you in Italian, saying the words he can’t bring himself to tell you in a way you’ll understand (assuming you don’t speak the language).

He knew he was in love when he found himself scribbling words on to a paper, his quill seeming to know nothing but your name and the way his soul screams it.

—> he’s never considered himself much of a writer. He took up the hobby after falling for you.

His mother taught him to play the piano as a child.

I wouldn’t say he “didn’t believe in love” before you, moreso he wasn’t sure if it was made for him. If he was meant for it. You made him feel so wrong.

Struggles with depression, it gets especially worse when his dad reaches out more.

He cried in the washroom when you took him to meet your parents.

—> your dad loved you despite you taking different paths than him, and your mother is still there. There’s nothing more to ask for. ‘Maybe that’s why he turned out him and you turned out you.’

—> Not long after, he received another letter from his father, and found himself crying into your arms for hours. He couldn’t even explain why, but you didn’t ask. You just held him. In that moment, he was sure his mother had brought you to him.

Offers you a smoke whenever he lights one, but not necessarily because he wants you to take it. He just feels wrong if he’s not offering you what he has.

Actually really nice, despite his sarcasm and apparent coldness. That may be who he seems to be, but anyone who bothers to look further will see what lies beneath.

Not necessarily quiet, but the most reserved of the group. Everyone knows him, but barely anyone knows him.

Lwk Noah (the notebook) coded, but in the “Well that's what we do, we fight... You tell me when I am being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you are a pain in the ass. Which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. You have like a 2 second rebound rate, then you're back doing the next pain-in-the-ass thing. So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day.” Way.

Reads when he actually has the time, like when the dorms aren’t being used like a frat house and his life actually seems normal. He keeps it to himself, though.

Ended up buying his own first aid kit because you were always in his dorm patching him up.

—> what can he say, though? Mattheo’s always fighting, and he’d be a bad friend not to jump in. Don’t even get him started on when he fights for you, either.

When he fights, no emotion is poured into it. Instead of red hot anger that shoots through his veins and into his knuckles, he’s ice. Face straight as he beats men into the infirmary.

Dresses like if Jacob Elordi, David Beckham, and Brad Pitt had a fashion baby.

Never makes his bed (he’s not leaving it half of the time anyway)

Always says his favourite food is pasta but will DEVOUR a grilled cheese like no other

Loves chocolate chip cookies, holds a particular hatred for oatmeal cookies.

Dreams of people he loves being ripped away from him, and all he can do is beg for it not to happen.

—> sleep talks. Sometimes you’ll hear his faint pleads, and all you can do is hold him tighter and hope it ends soon. You never mention it after because he’d be embarrassed.

A broken, broken boy whose light shines through the breaks in his heart. He’s scared to glue it back together in case it will block out the light, but you’ve made him sure you’ll shine through him no matter what.

“Blue - Billie Eilish”

_.•*

Also please comment recs for a playlist I’m making for him, or if you’d like more! <33

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured VIII

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: There's an emergency

"Alexia...Alexia...Alexia!"

Alexia comes back into consciousness slowly. It's still dark out and her alarm clock proclaims it to be nearly two in the morning.

Olga is standing over the bed and even in the dim light, Alexia can tell something is wrong. Olga is saying something but Alexia is still waking up and only tunes in at the very end.

"-Already called Jenni. She's going to meet us there."

Alexia sits up, rubbing her eyes. "Meet us there? Jenni? What's going on?"

She flicks on the bedside light. Olga is still in her pyjamas but she's wearing her coat over the top and a pair of shoes. She's got Jaume on her hip.

He's got old little red pinpricks all over his neck and arms.

"Is that chickenpox?"

"No," Olga says, babbling at rapid speed as she shoves the sheets off Alexia's body," I thought it was but I saw some article on my feed about how to make sure it's not anything else and-"

"Olga? What is going on?"

"I think it's meningitis," Olga finally says," And we need to take him to the hospital."

Alexia's up like a shot, hopping around on one foot as she grabs the first set of shoes she can find. "It can't be," She denies," We got him vaccinated. I remember it!"

"That's what I thought!" Olga says back," But the rash doesn't go away when I press a glass to it and you know how he's been lately!"

Alexia nods, pulling on a Barca issued jacket. She pauses as she moves. "Bambi," She murmurs before raising her voice," Shit, Bambi! She was running a bit hot after her ballet class. But I just assumed it was all the movement. My phone...Where's my phone? I need to-"

"I used it to call Jenni," Olga says as they both go running out the door," She's going to meet us there."

She and Olga get there well before you and Jenni do.

Jaume is taken to get a spinal tap but the doctor is confident that it's meningitis so puts him on antibiotics as soon as the procedure is done.

"I don't understand," Alexia says," My kids are vaccinated! Both of them! They're up to date. I took Bambi to all of her boosters! Jaume's scheduled for another one when he hits a year!"

"Sometimes vaccines aren't one hundred percent effective," The doctor says, clearly used to calming enrage parents," What matters is that you saw it and you got him in tonight. The spinal tap should confirm the diagnosis but we've already got him on an IV." The doctor turns to leave before stopping. "You've got another child?"

Alexia's head frantically nods. "Yes. A girl. She's four. She's being brought in now."

The doctor nods, scribbling something on his clipboard. "As soon as she's here, have someone page me. Older children find it harder to stay still for the spinal tap. I'll contact anaesthesia and get someone to bring a mask."

Alexia's head changes from nodding to shaking furiously. "No!" She says it a bit louder than she meant to that even Olga looks shocked.

"It'll be better," Olga tries to explain," If they put her to sleep-"

"No, I mean..." Alexia shakes her head, the words spilling out of her mouth naturally. "She's allergic! To Isoflurane! That's the gas anaesthesia, right? Right?"

She looks around wildly as the doctor's face turns grim.

"I'll get some local," The doctor says," I know we made you wait outside for Jaume but it would be best if you came in for your daughter, if we're only using local, to keep her calm."

It's a waiting game until Jenni arrives with you and Alexia finds herself doom scrolling. She's dived into whatever article she can find on meningitis in children and the more she reads, the worse she feels.

They're yet to be allowed into see Jaume as the staff work to get him a bit more comfortable but Alexia can see him through the window and he's completely passed out asleep.

"I didn't know y/n was allergic to anything," Olga says softly.

Alexia laughs. It's more a nervous chuckle than anything else. "I don't even think Jenni does. My father was allergic. It skipped me and Alba but I wanted to check for Bambi, just in case."

"It's a good thing you did," Olga says.

Alexia looks down at her phone. "Where are they? They should be here by now."

"They'll be here soon. It's going to be okay."

It takes another ten minutes for you and Jenni to arrive.

You look infinitely worse than Jaume. The rash is completely obvious, taking over your whole body and Jenni looks just as distressed.

It takes another ten for the doctor to return.

You don't understand what's going on. Your Ma-Jenni woke you up super early before the sun has come up. She didn't get you dressed or brush your hair how you like it.

She didn't explain much at all...or, anything really. She just put you in the car and didn't say anything.

You'd tried to ask but your throat felt all scratchy and your tummy hurt.

All you know now is that you're at the hospital with Ma-Jenni, Mami and Miss Olga. There's a strange man with cold fingers that takes your shirt from you and makes you curl up on your side.

"Ma-Jenni?" You ask, trembling," What's going on?"

"Ssh, Bambi," Ma-Jenni says. Her tone is harsh, harsher than you've ever heard her speak to you and your tummy ties itself in a knot at her words.

You can hear the strange man talking nonsense to the adults and your eyes go wide at the tray of tools that's wheeled in. They look pointy and sharp, like the tools from that silly doctor show that Tia Alba likes.

You suck in a harsh breath when you feel a pinch at your back. You yelp and instantly try to wiggle away.

"No!" You cry," No! Off! Stop it! I don't want to! I don't want to!"

You force yourself to uncurl. You don't want this strange man touching your back. He makes it hurt and you got want any more of his sharp tools in your skin.

There's a grip on your legs though, forcing them back into position. You turn your head to look at who's got you against your will.

It's Ma-Jenni.

Her grip is firm and hard as she forces your kicking legs still. One of her arms has clamped them together, forcing them to stop moving while her other hand is on your hip, forcing your down onto the table until you're immobile.

You want her hands off you. Ma-Jenni has big hands that are perfect to hold you but not like this, never like this. You don't want her touching you like this.

"Ma-Jenni," You sob," Stop it! Stop it, please! Please!"

She doesn't stop though, merely readjusts her grip and pushes you down further until you well and truly can't move your bottom half.

"Stop it!" You continue to say," Stop it, Mama! Mama, stop!"

Hands curve around your shoulders and these are familiar hands too.

Mami's hands are perfect to hold in yours. They're always warm and they always hold you so gently. But now they've got your arms pinned to your chest and are forcing your shoulders firmly into the examination bed.

"Mami," You cry," Please stop. Mami, please. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mami! Stop!"

Mami's lips ghost your hairline. "I'm sorry, Bambi," She says, her voice a whisper that you can barely hear over your panic," I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. You just need to be still. I'm sorry."

You can't move and the strange man is doing things to your back. You can't feel any pain but you can feel pressure and you can feel when he sticks something beneath your skin where things aren't supposed to go.

The only thing you can do is move your eyes and they focus on Miss Olga, the only adult in the room that's not actively hurting you.

"Miss Olga," You sob," Make them stop."

Her eyes nervously dart to the door like she wants to run away but she doesn't. She steps closer to where the adults are holding you, crouching down until your heads are almost the same height.

"I'm so sorry," She says to you," It's going to be okay, I promise. They're just making sure you're healthy."

"Miss Olga, please," You reply. You try to kick out your legs but Ma-Jenni just grips them more tightly," I'm sorry. I can be good. I can be better!"

"Hey," She says softly when your eyes dart towards your Mami," You are being so good. There's no one being better. Do you know what's going on?"

"No."

"You're very sick," Miss Olga speaks gently to you and brushes away a portion of hair that's covering your eyes," And we need to know what's wrong. Do you remember a few months ago when we came here and they put a needle in my arm?"

You do remember that. It was on one of hospital visits that you went on to see baby Jaume in Miss Olga's belly. They took some of her blood that appointment.

"They takin' my blood?" You ask shakily.

"They're taking a little bit of fluid from your back," Miss Olga explains," And they're going to test that for the illness they think you have. Like how they took my blood to make sure I was healthy."

You sniffle.

Mami and Ma-Jenni's hands are like shackles around your limbs, wrapped around your flesh and unwilling to even give you an inch.

"I'm scared," You whisper.

"That's okay," Olga whispers back," It's always okay to be a little scared. But you're doing so well. You're being such a brave girl. I'm sure it won't be much longer now."

You can feel the thing in your back moving and you try to shift with it but Ma-Jenni's hand clamps down on your hip and anchors you to it so you can't move again, not even a little rock back and forth.

"Hey," Olga says, pulling your attention away from what's happening at your back," Your Mami told me that you've moved up in ballet. I'm sure it's so much fun."

"It is."

"That's great! Do you want to tell me about it?"

Actually, you find that you do what to tell Olga about your ballet. Your words come out stilted and stuttered but you force them out of your mouth.

Olga smiles at you. She's got a pretty smile, you think. Mami must really love girls with pretty smiles.

"That sounds so cool," Olga says to you," You must be so talented." She leans a bit closer to you and you don't even feel the man taking the pointy thing out of your back. "Hey, maybe when you're all better, you can show me some moves. Only if you'd like to."

You duck your head down as the hands slowly leave your body. "Yes, please."

You're rolled onto your back but you keep your head tilted to look at Olga.

You don't know much about her apart from the fact that she's marrying your Mami and they had baby Jaume together.

Mami and Ma-Jenni are still talking to the doctor so you can fully focus on Olga.

She and baby Jaume look alike, you think. They've got the same eyes and nose and face shape. You think that baby Jaume might get her pretty smile when he's older too.

Her hand is gently resting on the side of your bed and you very gently move your own until your fingers are touching.

She hasn't got big hands like how Mami and Ma-Jenni's are big but they're still bigger than yours. They're safe too. You know this because she's never once dropped baby Jaume, even when she once tripped over and fell on her butt. She didn't drop Jaume once.

She smiles her pretty smile and you smile too, not even noticing when the nurse hooks you up to an IV.

"Hey, Bambi," Mami says," Everything's going to be okay now. I'm so-"

You stubbornly don't look at her and she frowns.

"Bambi?" Ma-Jenni asks," How's your back?"

You don't even deign her with an answer. It's still early and you're very tired. You don't want to talk to them, not when they pinned you down like that.

"I'm sorry," The nurse says," But I'm going to have ask you all to leave. The legal guardians can sleep over but that's all."

You don't know what legal guardians means but you do know that Ma-Jenni isn't one. She lives in Mexico for most of the year so she can't be your guardian because you don't live there with her.

She looks like she's going to argue but she doesn't. She reaches to give you a kiss on the forehead but you flinch away and she stops before her lips can press against your skin.

"I love you, Bambi," She says," And I'll be back to see you as early as I can."

You don't answer her.

It's just Olga and Mami left.

"I'm going to go sit with Jaume," Olga says and you frown.

"Jaume's sick too? Did I get him sick?" Your bottom lip wobbles.

"No, of course not." Olga says firmly," You and Jaume just got sick at the same time. It's very sad but it does happen."

"Really?"

"Yes." She heads to the door. "I hope you feel much better later. Maybe, if you feel up to it, you can tell me about your trains? Your Mami says that you love them a lot."

You nod. "Yes."

Then, it's just you and Mami left.

The nurse has set up a little bed next to yours for Mami to sleep on.

Mami seems a little nervous with you, pulling at the sleeves of her pyjama shirt. She looks at you.

You look at her.

You only saw her a few days again, when you painted pottery together and you asked her if you were wanted.

Mami doesn't sit in her bed, she pulls up a chair next to yours. She tries to reach for your hand but you pull it away before she can touch you, cradling it against your chest as you stare.

"Bambi," She begins before shaking her head and stopping. She takes a few moments before opening her mouth again. "I'm very, very sorry."

Those weren't the words that you were expecting.

You still don't answer though. If you blink, you can still feel her phantom hands over your body and the iron grip she had on your limbs.

She scoots the chair closer.

"I love you so much and I'm so sorry that you're sick."

She looks like she wants to say more but you don't really want her to keep talking.

"Bambi, I...I have not been a very good Mami to you," Alexia has to force the words out of her throat even if you give no indication that you can hear her," And I'm very, very sorry."

You still don't say anything. You just lie on your back with your eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry for what happened at home and I'm sorry for what a few-"

"I'm tired, Mami," You say, your voice quiet and exhausted.

"Right," Alexia says, scolding herself inwardly at keeping you up. It's still the middle of the night. "You go to sleep, Bambi. I'll be right here if you need me."

The stress of everything tonight seems to knock you out quickly but Alexia doesn't move to her own bed. She doesn't move. She doesn't sleep. She just stays in that seat even as a nurse pops their head in to confirm that both you and Jaume have bacterial meningitis.

A week hospital visit and IV's full of antibiotics is what awaits you both, baring any complications.

Jenni returns as soon as visiting hours begin again, pulling Alba and Eli in tow.

Eli diverts briefly to check on Olga and Jaume while Jenni and Alba come straight to you. You're still asleep when they arrive, lying on your back with a cannula in your hand to administer your medication.

"You look exhausted," Alba says in greeting, handing off a cup of to-go coffee to her sister," Did you sleep at all?"

"No." Alexia continues to stare at you, focussed on the soft rise and fall of your chest as you sleep.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Alba continues and, for once, her tone isn't biting. She seems genuinely surprised. "Haven't you got training?"

"I called off for the week," Alexia replies," And next week. It's more than enough time for them both to recover."

"You're taking time off?" Alba looks even more surprised than before. "Like, actually?"

Alexia doesn't know why that's so confusing. "Of course. My kids are sick. They need to be looked after."

Alba's mouth opens and closes a few times before she settles on something to say," How is Jaume?"

"Good, better. The doctors said that it's good we caught it when we did. The longer the rash is there for, the worse he could have gotten. It came up last night. We caught here as quick as we could."

Alexia's glad for that. She has no idea what could have happened, how much worse Jaume could have gotten if they had left it a few hours, let alone a few days.

Jenni is strangely silent at her words, reaching out to gently brush some of your hair out of your face.

"How long of a hospital stay?" Alba asks.

"About a week for both of them. The doctors said that they're going to do a hearing test with Bambi in a few days and then four weeks after she's recovered."

"And Jaume?"

"The same," Alexia confirms," Olga is with him now."

"Mama's with her," Alba says," We picked her up on the way."

There's a rustle of sheets as you blink awake. A yawn takes over your whole face as you wake up.

Mami, Ma-Jenni and Tia Alba are all looking at you and you pull your blankets up until they're over your nose.

You don't like the fact that Mami and Ma-Jenni are in the same room together. You can still feel their weights on you, pinning you to the bed as you struggled to get free.

You don't want them here. Not within arms length of you, in case they take your top away again and pin you down.

"Tia," You croak out and Alba pushes past Ma-Jenni to take your hand.

"You're not looking too good there, Bambi," Tia Alba says," How are you feeling?"

"Is Jaume still sick too?"

"He's getting a lot better. Your Abuela and Olga are with him now."

"Is Abuela and Olga going to get sick too?"

"No, don't be silly. Adults don't get sick like that." Tia Alba's teasing you. She's putting on a silly voice and it shocks a little giggle out of you. "I'm sure once your Abuela is done with baby Jaume then she'll be right in to see you."

"And Olga too?"

Alexia goes rigid in her seat. "Olga doesn't have to come in if you don't want her to."

You don't even acknowledge she's talking to you.

"No one has to come in that you don't want to," Jenni promises you but you don't give any indication that you heard her either.

"Olga thinks that I'm talented," You say to Tia Alba," She asked me about my ballet and my trains. She wanted to know more. Did you bring any of my trains?"

The bag on Jenni's shoulder is passed off to Alba. She digs through it, pulling out a spare change of clothes as well as a few model trains that had been shoved in there this morning.

"I want to show Olga my trains," You say," When she's done with baby Jaume." You run your trains over the bed, making little chugging noises with your mouth.

"I think that's a great idea, Bambi," Alexia says but you don't answer.

You haven't acknowledged her or Jenni since you woke up and it's put her on edge. Even when you were scared a few days ago, you still acknowledged her.

But your focus is purely on Alba but even that is hit and miss.

Whenever Alba reaches out to play trains with you, you flinch away. You look up at her in shock each time before glancing back down at your arms as if you can't believe you flinched.

"How are you feeling, Bambi?" Eli asks as she comes in.

You shrug and raise your hand. "They put a thing in my hand."

"They put one in your brother's too," Eli says," It's to give you your medicine."

"Did they put the thing in Jaume's back too?"

Eli nods. "They did."

Your eyes are haunted as you stare at her. "Did they pin him down too?"

Whatever bubble that the room was in bursts and Eli notices the way Alexia and Jenni both exchange a wide eyed look, like two little children caught red handed.

Eli has to think over her words carefully. "You're both very sick," She settles on eventually," Do you know why they had to put something in your back?"

You parrot back the words Olga told you and Abuela nods.

"That's right," She says.

"Olga says I was very brave even though I was crying."

"I'm sure you were the bravest little girl in the world," Abuela kisses your forehead but her lips feel too much like Mami and Ma-Jenni's and suddenly you can feel their hands on you again.

You kick your legs out and move your arms to shake the phantom hands off and they're gone as quickly as they appeared.

"Alexia, Jenni," Abuela says," Can I talk to you out in the hall?"

As they all leave, you look through the windows of your room.

Olga is lingering outside, looking into your room every so often before looking away.

"Tia Alba," You say," Can I still show Olga my trains?"

"Should I bring her in here?"

"Yes, please."

Ma-Jenni and Mami stay outside with Abeula for a long time but you don't even notice.

You've never talked with Olga like this before, not really. There had been a few moments when she was pregnant with baby Jaume where you watched things together and you helped her cook but you had never been like this with her before.

You hand her one of your trains and smile when she plays with you, gently moving the trains around your bed together.

"Is Jaume going to be okay?" You ask her because she's Jaume's mami and she knows things like that.

"He's going to be just fine," She promises you," And so are you. Just a few more days."

"I'm going to miss ballet," You say," That's bad. Mami never misses her training so I shouldn't miss mine."

"Your Mami's missing training now," Olga says," And she's missing it until you get healthy again. That's what you should focus on. Getting healthy again so you can go back to ballet."

"Mami is missing training? Why?"

"Because she wants to make sure you're okay," Olga says," Because she loves you."

You don't believe her but Olga looks very serious so you think that she must think that's true.

"Olga," You say," I'm hungry. When's lunch?"

She laughs a little bit about your blatant change of subject. "A few hours still," She says," How about I go to the shop and get you a snack?"

Olga slips out into the hallway where Eli is still lecturing Jenni and Alexia about their treatment of you. Your sobs and begging still rung in Olga's ears, the way that you cried and cried and begged and begged.

"She's hungry," She says, interrupting the lecture," I'm going to get her a snack."

"I'll come with you," Jenni says," I need a coffee."

The trip to the little shop was awkward, made even more awkward when Olga selected a plain chocolate bar only to have it plucked from her hand and replaced with one with caramel.

"She thinks the plain ones are too hard," Jenni says, almost carelessly," She doesn't like how they feel on her teeth. She prefers caramel."

Olga stares down at the chocolate in her hand, noting down another new thing in the column dedicated to you in her mind. It's painfully bare with only a few things - trains, ballet, the allergy she found out yesterday and now your favourite kind of chocolate.

She had told Alexia she wasn't threatened by Jenni and that's still true but that doesn't mean that Olga isn't intimidated.

Jenni just looks a bit intimidating with her tattoos and her height and the stern look on her face when it comes to you.

"Thanks."

It's silent for a moment as they both wander through the winding hallways back up to the peds wing.

"No," Jenni says eventually, shaking her head like she had been fighting with herself," I'm sorry, Olga. But I have to know...How could you let this happen? With Bambi, I mean? Stuff like this doesn't happen overnight."

Olga wants to bolt, to run and escape this but she holds herself firm as she scrambles to find something to say, knowing exactly what Jenni is talking about. "I didn't notice," She settles on eventually," It is wrong to say but it is true."

Jenni can't seem to understand though. "But how? Bambi is...How could you just not notice?"

"I just didn't," Olga says," And that was wrong of me. It was wrong of Alexia. We've talked about it...a lot...We're trying to move forward, for y/n."

Jenni looks at her, long and hard and Olga suddenly understands what rival players feel when they see Jenni come onto the pitch.

"Don't let it happen again," Jenni says firmly before taking off again, leaving Olga to scramble to keep up.

You're exactly as they left you, sitting in the middle of your bed. You're making chugging noises with your mouth as you run a train over Eli's arm.

Alexia is back in her seat next to your bed but you've scooched away from her as far as you can get.

"Caramel!" You cheer when Olga presents your food," That's my favourite! Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

You munch happily on your food a little but before you stop to scratch at your rash.

Automatically, like she did a few days ago when she first noticed it, Jenni takes your hand to stop you scratching.

You violently flinch away, tearing your hand away from hers. You scrunch your eyes closed firmly as you suck in air.

You can feel the hands on your legs again, forcing you to go immobile as the strange man pokes and prods at your back.

"No!" You cry out, turning away and curling up under your blanket," Stop it! Stop it, Mama! No bad touches! No more bad touches!" You kick your legs out. "No! Stop it!"

"Out," You can hear your Abuela say.

Eli-"

"Out, Jenni! Alexia, you too! Olga-"

"I'll go and see Jaume. He should be up from his nap by now."

"No! No! No!" You continue to chant as the blanket is pealed back.

It's not Ma-Jenni though. It's Abuela with Tia Alba hovering over her shoulder.

You sniffle if you sit up again.

"What happened, huh, Bambi?" Abuela asks," What was that about?"

"Mama hurt me," You say," When the strange man touched my back. I asked her not to! I asked her to stop!"

"I know," Abuela says," I know, Bambi."

"I didn't know what was happening," You say," It was scary and Mama wouldn't tell me what was going on."

It was very scary. You didn't think Ma-Jenni would do that to you, would pin you down and not explain what was happening. Mami could be harsh sometimes and you know she can be rough on the pitch too. She even said she was sorry while doing it but Ma-Jenni didn't.

Ma-Jenni told you to shh and pinned you down and didn't say sorry. You can still feel her hands on you, constantly pinning your legs down and pushing you further into bed.

She didn't say sorry at all and that's what scares you.

"I'm sorry that scared you," Abuela says," I'm sure Jenni didn't mean to."

"She didn't say sorry," You say," And she hurt me."

"Bambi-"

"She did! I'm not lying!"

"No one says' you're lying," Tia Alba assures you," I think you're telling the truth but, Bambi, you needed to have that done, so you can get better."

Ma-Jenni comes back when it's dark. There's no lights coming through your windows and the moon is out so you know it's night time.

Mami is meant to be sleeping on the bed next to you but she's not there.

The door to your room opens though and Ma-Jenni steps in.

But she doesn't look like Ma-Jenni though. There's something different about her. Maybe it's her too sharp features or her too pointed teeth. Maybe it's the curve of her nails or the way she's looming over you.

You can't move and Monster-Jenni's sharp claws dig into your legs easily.

You shriek but she's pressing her whole weight down onto the hand that's got your legs while her other one pins you down by your chest. You can't move. You can't stop her no matter how much you plead and beg and sob.

She's still holding you with bad touches and the strange man appears again. He's got too sharp teeth too and a massive needle that looks even scarier than before.

"Mami!" You cry as you jolt awake, gripping your bedsheets and screaming.

Mami's up like a shot, looking around like she thinks someone's hiding in the shadows. You're scared that Monster-Jenni is there too.

"Mami!" You sob, reaching desperately for her, your mind recycling her apologies as she held you down.

This time though, you crawl into her arms and sob, burying your face in her shirt as you cry.

For a moment, Alexia is in shock at your willingness to touch her. Whatever you had dreamt about must have been bad because you've curled your body around hers and Alexia very carefully curls her arms around you.

"It's okay, Bambi," She whispers," It's okay. It wasn't real. None of it was real. I've got you. Mami's got you."

"Mami," You whimper," Mami, it hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Everything!"

"I'm so sorry, Bambi," Alexia says and she knows that you know what she means, just like how you know she knows what you mean by everything," It's all going to be okay. I promise, this is all going to be okay. No matter what happens."

"I'm scared, Mami."

"I know, Bambi. I'm going to help make it better."

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the flower guy. l Joel Miller

Summary: someone leaves flowers at your door

Warnings: some bad words (fuck), but other than that just fluff and stupid sweet talking

A/N: I think Joel deserves everything sweet and nice, I would like to give him this scribble. (and I wanted to thank you for every heart, reblog and observation. it means a lot)

It happened again.

Curiosity led you towards the porch where for a long time, every morning, you found a flower lying there. Sometimes it was an ordinary wild flower like a poppy or cornflower, and sometimes a few daisies. And even though your mind told you that it couldn't entirely be safe, your heart melted every time you opened the door.

This time you found a lilac flower on the doormat and without thinking, you inhaled its intense scent.

Was it stupid? Unwise?

You didn't know who left you such surprises, but he definitely made your day. You went to sleep wondering if something new would appear on the wiper, and then you woke up excited like a child on Christmas Day.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Ellie's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You were walking through a meadow near Jackson, partly to look around and partly to kill time. The warm sun warmed your backs as you lazily walked through the tall grass.

"Did he show up again?" the girl lowered her voice, but couldn't hide her excitement. "Did he leave anything?"

You looked at Ellie's bright face, then quickly glanced over your shoulder. The girl's gaze followed yours.

Joel followed you a dozen or so steps and didn't seem to care about you at all.

"Shhh!" you hissed, but you couldn't hide your smile.

"He doesn't even listen to us." Ellie shrugged. "We could be talking about all your ex-boyfriends and intimate relationship details and Joel would still just find dangers around us. He doesn't care."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He's wandering around looking for something to do. Jackson seems to be boring him. Anyway," she grabbed your arm lightly, "Did he show up again?"

"Yes." you replied quietly, "He left me a lilac flower."

"Damn! I thought he would finally invite you somewhere! Idiot..."

"Why do you say that?" you were outraged, although you didn't feel angry at the girl at all. "I think it's sweet and romantic. Besides, blind dates, in this day and age, are probably not a good idea."

"Maybe you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that he's an idiot. He could just talk to you. Say something like, 'Hey, girl. You look stunning. Do you want to go out together?' "

You burst out laughing and quickly glanced over your shoulder again. Joel still didn't seem to be paying much attention to you.

"You should stop reading those teen magazines. They're just bullshit!"

"Are you kidding me?! They're fantastic. Can you tell me about your first time?"

"About what?!"

"About your sexual experience." Ellie sighed as if explaining such simple things to you was boring for her. "I asked Joel, but he told me to shut up and he went somewhere again."

"And he was right. You're too young for this."

"And you're too old to play ‘throwing flowers on the doormat’."

You already regretted that you had even told Ellie about what you found in front of your door in the morning. However, you had no choice, one morning she caught you picking up flowers and wouldn't leave you alone until you told her everything.

You weren't even going to tell Joel about it. He would definitely tell you right away that all this was suspicious, and then he would lie in wait outside your house with a shotgun to catch whoever was visiting you. This was definitely not a good idea.

"Hey!"

You both turned towards the voice calling to you. Joel stopped and stared intently at the nearby forest.

"I think I saw a deer there. Maybe we should go that way?" he pointed to an unspecified place.

"Are you sure?" you asked as you and Ellie approached him. "Maybe he escaped?"

"Maybe, but it's always worth checking."

"Sure. There's nothing we can do anyway. At least Ellie will be quiet."

Joel smiled slightly. You liked this view. Those little sweet lines around his eyes and some warmth radiating from him at that moment.

You were already used to Joel and Ellie's presence in Jackson, and you were also glad that they found each other in this place. You quickly found a common language and after some time Ellie became a frequent guest in your home. Thus, Joel Miller also became your close friend.

You liked his presence. And although sometimes his response was a grunt, or he looked at you in a strange way that made you wonder if you had done something stupid. You recognized his silhouette from a distance. Tall, broad shoulders, warm brown eyes, hair streaked with gray and that smile hidden in a soft beard.

Yeah, you could keep your eyes on him longer.

You quietly closed the door and ran down the few steps onto an empty road bathed in the first rays of sunlight. The pleasant coolness that surrounded you immediately woke you up. Despite everything, all you wanted to do was lie in your bed and try to get some sleep. Molly's twins cried all night because their teeth were coming in, and you promised to help her so she could nap for a while. So that night was hard.

You were already close to your house when you suddenly saw it. There was a person standing on your porch.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, but you reacted quickly, hiding behind some boxes standing next to the nearest building.

Maybe it was stupid and you could have acted like a responsible adult, but still... Fuck! You didn't expect to catch him in a situation like this. Especially since you were so curious and...

The man withdrew and went down the stairs, the sun shining on his face.

You'd recognize this man anywhere.

You knew you wouldn't fall asleep again. Even though you were lying in bed and the window curtains were drawn tightly, you were staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. It was insane.

You would never in your life suspect that the person who left you flowers for so long was Joel Miller. Because how come? Joel?

You were friends, you spent a lot of time together, and Ellie treated your house almost like it was her own. But it seemed to you that he never took you seriously. To him, you were just like any other resident of Jackson, and you even had the impression that he became more gruff around you.

“Fuuuck…” you moaned, rubbing your face with your hands.

Your brain no longer functioned normally and only gave you a headache. You needed at least a few hours of sleep, but that probably wasn't going to happen.

After some more fidgeting in bed, you got up, intending to take a shower and eat something.

Joel. Why did it have to be Joel? After all, it changes everything. How were you supposed to look him in the face now? Would you act like nothing happened? And why was he doing it?

You didn't even feel like going to the bar today. You were sure you would find Joel and Tommy there, and that was probably the last thing you wanted.

A loud knock on the door echoed through the house.

"Y/N? Are you there?" Ellie banged on the door again, “Y/N?”

Did you just hide behind the kitchen cabinet? God! What the hell was that supposed to be?

Ellie's footsteps faded away and you finished your coffee sitting on the kitchen floor. You had only one way out of this situation, you could pretend that nothing happened, avoid Joel for a while until the matter resolved itself. Because he definitely just wanted to please you. Flowers are not a wedding promise, right?

"Pull yourself together, kid." you muttered to yourself as you got up from the floor. “It's just Joel. Just stupid flowers. Nothing more. Don't look for something in it that isn't there.”

You could have avoided Miller, but Ellie found you the next day. She wasn't happy when you told her you wouldn't be going on patrol with them for a while and you were taking on other responsibilities in Jackson.

"But it was so fun!" the girl groaned, leaning against the bar counter. “Even Joel had fun.”

"Right. But you see, we can't spend every free moment together, Ellie." you replied, placing the just-washed glasses in the cabinet.

"Why not?"

"Because I guess I feel awkward when Joel is around." of course you didn't tell her that and she couldn't read your mind.

"Do you have anyone?"

"W-What?!" the glass almost fell out of your hand.

"Maybe you're dating someone and that's why you can't see us?"

"Bullshit."

"And your flower guy? What about him? Did he talk to you? Did he show up?"

"Ellie, please. Can you get off of me?"

"I knew it! He must have been some hideously ugly and sleazy guy!"

"Ellie!" you interrupted her, placing your hands on your hips. “Stop it! I don't want to talk about it. These are adult matters, not for you.”

"Oh, sure! Joel says the same thing when I ask him where he's going alone this early in the morning. 'None of your business, kid.'" the girl mimicked the low tone of Joel's voice, "You two should meet up and talk about your adult stuff, because you're both acting weird." "

Was it easy for you? NO.

Did you feel bad for Ellie and Joel? Yes. Especially towards Joel.

Would you give anything to go back to the way it was before? Yes. You guess.

There was one big swirl of thoughts in your head, and your life had been like a game of hide and seek for several days. Flowers continued to appear on your doormat and you felt extremely guilty.

You liked Joel. Even very much. You could list a lot of his advantages and disadvantages, but it all made him what he was. You missed him so much, but you were afraid that if you went any further, your friendship might suffer. And then avoiding him in Jackson would be even more difficult.

It happened the day you were cleaning one of the warehouses. It was already starting to get dark outside when you, completely immersed in your thoughts, were arranging cans and jars on wooden shelves.

"I got you."

It was like a gunshot. A low and warm voice appeared out of nowhere, but you knew its owner perfectly.

You turned around. Joel stood leaning against the door, watching you warily. His denim shirt had a few buttons undone and his arms were folded across his chest.

"Oh, hi." you mumbled, "I didn't hear you come in. Do you need anything?"

"You." he replied and you felt your throat tighten.

You must have looked scared, because Miller added after a moment.

"I mean... Fuck." he cleared his throat, "I was looking for you because you seem to have been avoiding me lately."

"Where did this idea come from?" you tried to smile, but it probably came out too nervous. “I'm definitely not avoiding you. I've just been busy. Just busy.”

"I got a different impression."

You didn't know how to respond to that so you tried to go back to work, but Joel was still standing there. You felt his eyes on you and your cheeks burned.

"So everything's okay between us?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Definitely." you replied quickly, "Everything's great!"

"Okay then."

Silence again. It would be easier for you if he left, but he still stood there.

"You know, Ellie thinks you're seeing someone." he started again.

You turned to Joel.

"No, that's not true. I already told her about it." you replied, "I don't know why we're even bringing this up, Joel. I've had some work to do lately. I can't be with you all the time, even if I wanted to... It's complicated, Joel."

"I get it. It's a little complicated for me too, because I really like being with you."

You bit your lip because those words were really...nice. And comfortable for you. You missed him so much that it was hard for you to admit it, even to yourself.

“Listen, Y/N. I'm really bad at this.” Joel nervously placed his hands on his hips. "I haven't done this in years and it might seem embarrassing. Ellie would definitely say I'm acting like an idiot. I think I know why you've been avoiding me, and it's not because of work."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

The ball was in your court. Joel stood in front of you, completely disarmed and needing your help to sort this all out.

"I know it's you, Joel." you started hesitantly, "Those flowers, I saw you the other morning. It kind of surprised me."

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I..."

"NO!" you interrupted him quickly. "It was the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time. I was just scared, you know. We're friends, I don't want any of our bad decisions to change that."

“We're only human, Y/N. We'll always make bad decisions, but there will be good ones too.”

"But should we take the risk? I really like you a lot, Joel. I've missed you so much."

He walked towards you slowly.

"I missed you too." he said "God, every day I found myself wanting to look at you, hear your voice or laugh. And then I realized that you weren't with me. I didn't want you to feel trapped by me."

"I didn't feel like that! I guess I never realized what I felt. Having you next to me was just natural to me."

"Same here." he smiled "I guess we actually acted like fucking kids."

"I think so. Ellie wouldn't leave us alone if she found out."

"She'll find out anyway." Joel shrugged. “Because now I want to do it right, Y/N. I know we don't have many options, but maybe you'd like to... Fuck.” he took a deep breath. "Maybe you'd like to spend the evening with me? We can have a few drinks, talk, and spend some time together. Alone."

"Sounds really good."

His face lit up with a smile, and you realized how much you missed him. Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were acting like kids, but why wouldn't you?

When Joel left the warehouse, he seemed to be in a really good mood, and you felt a flock of butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to spend this evening with him, you wanted to see his wonderful and warm eyes again. You may have had a soft spot for him, but he definitely felt the same way.

And you were both like teenagers, and that was good.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[phantom-0-writer]

excerpt from my fic (bio wayne danny)

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Dick asked teasingly, slipping in next to Bruce. 

“I was just telling Danny how having a space station as a base of operation is a tactical call.” Bruce said, pointedly. 

“As if. It wasn’t a good idea when the JL was just the main seven, but after their expansion project, it’s a liability if not a straight out disadvantage.” Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“How is it a liability?” Dick asked intrigued. 

“Whenever there’s a huge invasion or something, where do you think the evil aliens are going to attack first? The huge space satellite with at least a handful of heroes on it at all times, with state-of-the-art weapons and tech, full of information about literally everything worth having information on probably has no external defenses because no one would think to sneak into a space station, seems like a pretty good start.” Danny explained, Dick watched Bruce appraise his information. “I bet I could get in if I figured out how to get to space.” 

Bruce raised an amused brow at him, “You think you could break into the Watchtower?” 

“Easy.” Danny proclaimed, sporting a wicked grin. 

Before Dick could say anything, someone came up to their table. “Danny!” The boy, Dick recognized as Tucker, said with an exaggerated fake surprise, “What a surprise seeing you here. At the Nasty Burger. Around 6 o’clock. Today.” 

“Tucker? Why- What are you doing here?” Danny asked surprised. 

“I was just passing by,” Tucker said, shrugging dramatically. Danny gave him an accusing and disbelieving look. “My, my who are these people here with you, Danny?” Tucker asked, sliding into the seat next to Danny. 

“Tucker, you know who they are,” Danny said exasperated. 

But it seemed like they had more guests. “Danny! Wow, I wasn’t expecting you here. Small world, huh?” Sam (?) walked over preppi-ly which didn’t match her grunge aesthetic. Her hands hooked with Val’s as they walked together. 

“Small world,” Val repeated with a fake smile. The two of them sat down next to Danny and Tucker. 

Danny put his head in his hands, “I should’ve known.”

“You should’ve.” Sam nodded. 

“But you didn’t.” Val chastised jokingly. 

Next another boy comes dashing into the restaurant wearing a basketball jersey. 

“You’re late,” Val says, admonishingly. Tucker and Sam shake their heads, and Danny sighs in exasperation. 

“I literally ran here.” Wes said in between huffs of air, slumping in next to Val. 

The group of teens who had been teasing each other, in a very strange synchronous action, turn their heads to look at Bruce and Dick. Dick was really regretting watching Anabell last night. 

“I think we’ll need more food,” Bruce comments lightly. 

---

“So, dick.” Sam started, munching on a fry. “Tell us about yourself.” 

“Like what?” Dick asked

Valerie (“Do not call me Val.”) answered, “What do you do?”

“I’m a cop in Bludhaven.” Dick was met with four pairs of dubious eyes. Danny sent him a small-lipped look of disappointment, he wasn’t sure whether it was for him or at him. Maybe Dick should look into getting a new day job.

“Write that down.” Sam gestured to Tucker.

“Already on it,” Tucker reported, scribbling something with a stylus. 

“You guys are taking this very seriously,” Bruce commented, smiling. 

“It is serious.” Tucker responded. 

“What if you guys are in some child trafficking ring?” Wes commented, 

“Why would they be-” Danny started, before Wes turned to him and very seriously said, 

“That’s exactly the question, Danny. Why would they?” Wes thoughtfully turned to look at Bruce warily. 

“Y’know let’s just dive into the important questions shall we?” Sam asked her preppy attitude from before gone, replaced by a hard glare at the two of them. It reminded Dick of Titus. “What’s your opinion on the basements?”

“Basements?” Bruce repeated, confused. 

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first eccentric billionaire to insist Danny be their son. And we’ve noticed a few patterns.” Tucker informed them as if they were talking about something completely normal and mundane. Though, Dick couldn’t really argue. Bruce was also an eccentric billionaire with a secret basement. 

“Well, we have a basement,” Dick said hesitantly. “Does that dock us points?” He asked Tucker, half-joking, half-concerned. 

“Tentative.” 

“So what do you do in your basement?” Wes asked, sipping on a milkshake. 

“Normal basement things.” Dick lied. 

“Such as…” Valarie implored, eyes suspicious. 

Dick hesitated thinking about what to say. Bruce hadn’t said anything either. But Danny took the time to tell his friends, “Guys I really don’t think that should be a problem. I mean, would someone like Vlad really go for the ‘let’s have dinner so my family can meet your family and we can get to know each other’ approach when the ‘let me drug and kidnap you and stick you in a cloning pod’ approach was right there.” 

His friends seemed to consider this before they all nodded and agreed. 

“Vlad Masters drugged and kidnaped you to put you in a cloning pod?” Bruce asked, concerned. 

“No,” Danny said, offhandedly, not bothering to elaborate. Someone should really look into that guy. 

“O-M-G, is that Paulina?” Wes said pointedly, a menacing grin on his face as he looked at Danny, who in turn looked alarmed.

“Aw, Danny you should go say ‘Hi’.” Tucker cooed, teasingly, Danny groaned, his ears flushing in embarrassment.

“Guys, stop.” Sam said finally, “We wouldn’t want another spoon incident.” A grin cracked on her face. Danny buried his face in his hands. 

Dick looked over to see who they were talking about. There were two girls, one was a blond girl with her arms hooked around Kwan from The Mall, and the other was a darker skinned girl wearing a pink crop top. Dick wasn’t sure who Paulina was, but it didn’t really matter, as he took his chance to tease his brother. “You have a crush on Paulina?” He asked teasingly. Bruce is smiling next to him. 

“No.” Danny denied it fervently. “I mean- I did. Like forever ago. But not anymore.”

“He’s since moved on to more attainable targets.” Tucker nodded. Received a smack from Sam and a spoon to the face from Valerie. “Ow. What? It’s true.” 

“Y’know what they say. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” Wes added with a snicker. 

“Wes,” Danny groaned at the same time as Sam and Valarie hissed his name. 

“I sense a story.” Bruce commented, sipping his drink. 

“It all started when we were fresh little freshmen. Danny had his little crush on Paulina. I was just trying to get by, y’know. Not all of us have Wayne genes.” Tucker started pointedly. 

“What- we didn’t know about that till this week.” Danny pointed out. 

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t there, dude.” Wes spoke up. Sam and Valerie stayed suspiciously quiet. Dick’s smirk only grew. 

“As I was saying, we’re just doing normal freshman things, when Sammy here,” Tucker points to Sam with his head, “starts crushing. Big time.”

“It was not that bad.” Sam points out. 

“It was, in fact, that bad.” Tucker said, looking at Bruce and Dick, “But at the same time Danny and Val have a little enemies-to-lovers thing and then they both start crushing on each other. And they dated for a while, but then they broke up cause Val had a lot on her plate at the time. Danny was all mopey and heartbroken. And then Sam swoops in like his little knight in glowing armor, then they start dating. And all the while I’m here single and alone.” Tucker shakes his head mournfully. 

“I was not all mopey and heartbroken.” Danny defends himself. 

“You so were dude.” Tucker says.

“Yeah.” Sam agrees. 

“But then Sam and Danny decide that they’re better off as friends because Danny kinda had a lot to deal with. And now we’re all best friends.”  Tucker concluded, cheerfully. 

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh, Bruce.” Dick says slyly. Bruce huffs. 

“Then what about the spoon incident?” Bruce asked. 

“Oh, that was back when there were a lot of ghost attacks, and the school had my parents come in to run security. And this one time we were having lunch outside, and they just showed up out of nowhere. And I got kinda spooked and…” Danny’s voice trailed off into a mumble, and Dick couldn’t catch the last bit.

“Sorry, what was that?” 

“He said he swallowed a spoon.” Wes spoke up. 

“What?” Bruce asked, alarmed. “Are you okay?” 

“Oh yeah, I got it out.” Danny waved dismissively. 

“How?” Dick asked, confused.

“Uh, I just did.” He waved again. Before Dick could ask any more questions, someone else decided to show up.

“Oh good, I thought I missed you guys.” Another red-haired boy showed up. “Hi, I’m Adam, Wes’s brother.” Dick recognized the accent the boy had. He stuck out a hand for Dick to shake.

continue reading (ao3)

regular boy: daniel wayne - chap 9

[luvfy0dor]

RRRRAAAAAH i’m so insane abt dad fyodor i’m!!!!! imagine him helping the kid with schoolwork and attending parent meetings i’m so? feel free to decline! <3

“Multiplication Sucks ♡” - Dad!Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; None!

Description; Fyodor helping his daughter with her homework assignment, I'm so sorry it's so short : [ I tried writing a scenario for a parent teacher meeting but I kept scrapping my ideas, ill do a part two at some point i promise!

A/n; I LOVE THAT WE ALL LOVE DAD FYODOR SM DJSJEJS THANK YOU DAD!FYODOR ANON FOR BLESSING US WITH THIS WE LOVE YOU 💜 ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT ANON AHHH 💔

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

• Fyodor is the type of dad to let his kid waste no time when it comes to homework. He wants them to get it done the very night it's assigned so they can relax afterwards and not gain the habit of procrastinating.

• You will catch him walking your kid step by step through their homework. He's not the type of parent to yell out of frustration, especially not over his kids homework.

• He can help the child with most subjects, but he's especially good at math and therefore some sciences. He's good with history, too.

• At one-on-one parent teacher meetings, he already knows what to expect. He knows his kid is well behaved, he raised them well mannered and respectful. He also knows that his kid is smart and does well on their assignments, they get it from their papa.

ೃ⁀➷

(As always, d/n is daughters name, p/t is parental title)

You sat on the couch with Fyodor, leaning on his shoulder while you watched a movie. He seemed relatively intrigued while he chewed on his fingernails. His hair was messily pulled back, his bangs falling through the grip of the ponytail holder and back into his face. His free arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your daughter was being relatively quiet, you couldn't really hear her footsteps going back and forth around her bedroom like you usually could. All of a sudden though, you could hear some frustrated groans. Fyodor definitely heard it too, turning his head to look at you. After a second he got up from the couch and walked towards d/n's room.

He knocked on your daughter's door lightly, opening it upon hearing a soft "come in". He walked into her bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the young girl slouched over at her desk with a pencil in hand. He tilts his head and notices the sheet of paper in front of her, half finished with lots of scribbled out things.

"What's wrong, Malyshka?" He asks, reaching out and rubbing her back in consolation. The young girl sits up with a pout, her lip quivering a bit. "Multiplying is stupid!" She says sadly, placing her pencil down gently and crossing her arms. Fyodor picks up and examines the paper, humming as he reads over the simple and basic multiplication problems. "Well, I can help you. There's no need to cry over it." He says, petting her head gently and putting the paper back down. "Is it this one that's troubling you?" He asks, pointing to one of the problems with the pencil. She nods, sniffling.

"16 x 2..." He hums for a moment, thinking of a way to explain this to her. "If you can do 6 x 2 and 10 x 2, all you have to do is add them together." He says, handing the pencil to her. "You're a smart girl, I know you can do it." He says, remaining at her side while she uses the strategy he provided her. Her tongue slightly pokes from the corner of her lips as she comes to her conclusion of 32 after a couple of seconds.

"Is that right, papa?" D/n asks, looking up at Fyodor for approval. "Yes, you did a good job." He praises her with a proud smile, patting her head. She nods and moves onto the next question, and before she knows it, she's done! Fyodor was happy that she didn't give up and powered through, finally starting to grasp the concept. All she needed was a little more help, the help that her father was right there to give her.

A/n; AHHHH I love dad Fyodor sm like imagine him going to father-daughter dances omg I die

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Mommy?

Single dad!Carmen x reader

Carmen's daughter likes you and doesn't know the meaning of the word 'no'.

~~☆☆☆~~

You stepped into the sandwich place, your laptop bag slung around your shoulder as something collided with your leg and clinging to it.

"Oh shit, sorry I- she slipped away from me." A man apologises for the little child around your leg, lowering himself to her level and tiredly begging her to let you go.

You took a better look at the toddler at your side. She had the man's curly hair and wore a fluffy teddybear onesie.

The man in front of you was tired. No question about it and his attire told you he worked here.

"Hey, you know what?" His focus moves from the child up to you. "How about I watch her for a bit? I'm planning on getting some work done here anyways and I'll probably be around when your shift ends." You shrugged at your own suggestion, placing a hand on the child's curls making her giggle at you.

"I uh- my shift ends a couple hours after we close." He wasn't declining your offer, he just didn't want you to waste your whole day here. He had gotten up again by now to talk to you at eye level. "I'm Carmen." He extends a hand to you to shake. "I own this place. And this here's Alex," he motions at the babbling todddler who was now casually hanging from your hand. "She's my kid. Daycare wouldn't take her cus she sneezed one too many times on drop off this morning." A tired hand runs over his face as he recalls why she's here.

"Hey, I'll watch her for you. Just come say hi a couple of times and we'll be good." You shoo'd him off and he went back to the kitchen. But not before making sure he got your food order and saying goodbye to his daughter.

Over the course of the day he swung by your table to watch you type away on your laptop while Alex was no doubt ruining your highlighters and scribbling on the back of your notepad. During food breaks she was in your lap and you'd watch some kids videos on Youtube with the sound low enough to not bother anyone.

Little Alex had been an absolute sweetheart the whole time, clinging to you and showing off her artworks that had rendered your notepad entirely useless.

Around dinnertime Carmen had come back again, insisting he'd be fine watching her himself now, but you assured him you were good and didn't mind staying the few extra hours. He accepted reluctantly and rought you two dinner on the house, dessert included.

When the placed closed down and Carmen was finished cleaning everything he came by one last time, to pick up his daughter and thank you again for watching her. You exchanged phone numbers in case he ever needed a babysitter.

Leaving was a lot more difficult than you had thought. Alex threw the biggest fit the second you turned to the door, running up to you and clamping herself around your leg, sniffling No's leaving her lips as she sat down on your foot with her arms around your calf. Tears staining your jeans.

Carmen stood there, a hand on his hip, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. "Come on, teddybear. She's tired too, we're all going to our homes and sleep, okay?" He tried bribing, any and all promises he could think of, even physically prying her off your leg resulted in the biggest drama he had ever seen her make.

You felt bad for Carmen. The permanent bags under his gorgeous blue eyes and the mess of curls you wanted to run you-- "what if I tag along and put her in bed?" The suggestion seemingly came out of nowhere amd it took Carmen a moment to register your words.

His place was an even bigger mess than he was and he'd be ashamed if she saw Alex's living situation. But then again, he was a single dad with an extremely demanding job, so the mess did explain itself that way..

"Yeah, okay." A simple, soft answer that had Alex screech with joy.

The three of you made your way over to his car. Since Alex wouldn't let go of you, you carried her while Carmen carried your bag for you as well as his own.

His place wasn't big. But it was big enough for him and Alex. On your way through the livingroom you had to watch your step and not trip over the large amount of toys on the floor. The coffeetable held day old mugs and coffee circles permanently staining the wood. The dinnertable was covered in paperwork but the kitchen looked decent enough, besides the dishes in the sink.

Carmen could feel you judging him, trying to speed up the whole going to bed ritual Alex had so you could stop being grossed out by the mess.

After watching Carmen struggle with the currently very difficult child you stepped in and offered assistence.

Carmen stepped aside and mimiced his steps but in your own way. Suddenly she was the sweetest child ever and did everything you told her to.

"Are you serious? Now you can listen?" The soft complaint didn't go unnoticed and made you giggle as you tucked her in and wished her sweet dreams. Besides you Carmen leaned over to give her kisses and said goodnight as well.

"Why does she listen so well to you?" The question wasn't meant in a bad way, even though it sounded like jealousy. "Guess she just wants a mom." You answered from across the kitchen island. Carmen insisted you stayed for a drink and talk about your day with her. "Neither you or her ever uttered anything mom-related so I guessed it's just you two." You sounded like a prying therapist right now, but you meant it in a kind way.

Clearly both of you sucked when it came to words.

"Her mom was a drunken mistake." He downs half of his drink and decided right there he was gonna talk about it. If you deleted his number and walked out afterwards, so be it.

"I didn't even know she had a kid until kne day she stopped by the restaurant. I barely recognised her but she still made a whole scene about some mistake, dropped the carrier with a crying baby at my feet and shoved a stack of paperwork in my hands." He downed the other half of his drink, not liking how recalling those memories felt. "I barely knew her, only saw her twice before moving back here from New York and found me all the way here to drop the baby and all her papers stating I was the one responsible for her on me and leave after screaming at me amd blaming me for leaving."

Carmen's story shocked you. You sat in silence after he finished, not sure how to respond to such a confession, so you offered your help once more.

After a while babysitting Alex at work and tucking her into bed turned into babysitting, tucking her into bed and moving into the next one together with Carmen. His early shifts really messed up Alex's sleep scedule so he suggested you staying the night and working from his apartment and do Alex's morning routine at a more acceptable hour than 6am, when he's kiss you goodmorning, wish you some good few more hours of sleep and went off to work.

Carmen was enjoying your time together so much, and Alex was almost permanently attached to you when you were around so his only thought was how he was going to ask you to move in with him. You already had a spare key so giving you one of those in a fancy little box wouldn't work.

Eventually he thoight of an idea that just had to work.

He wrote a note from Alex's point of view, rolled it up and tied a little bow around it and handed it to his daughter. "Can you go give this to her, please? It's a gift."

Alex immediately ran over to you, waving the paper roll at you and smacking it against your leg. She mumbled a quick "foyou" before waving it up at you again.

You accepted the gift with a grand display of thanks, with kisses and a hug, a whole scene amd read the note in silence. You recognised Carmen's handwriting immediately and smiled your way throigh the creatively written sentences.

"So, you want me to be mommy, huh?" You asked Alex, but not without moving your stare up to meet Carmen's, who looked away quickly to hide his blush.

A string of Yes and Please and happy giggles were all the convincing you needed before agreeing to move into Carmen's apartment officially.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Holdout || Fraternize

Congressman!Javier Peña AU

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: smut, fingering, arguments, period typical misogyny, American politics, inappropriate workplace behavior, office sex, kinda fem!dom, discussions of healthcare policy, inaccuracies regarding American politics

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Sometimes it was better to talk face to face than to send his lackeys to speak for him. And who knows? Maybe he’ll get a sweet deal out of it. If nothing else, she was at least a good time.

A/N: I know Javi has nothing but disdain for politics and politicians. He would’ve pushed those DC guys out of the helicopter in season 3 if they’d asked more stupid questions. But it’s the same season 3 Javi who put in all those suits and ties and combed his hair neatly and walked around looking like a WHORE. So it’s actually his fault that I’m writing him as a politician. As usual, give your girl some comments and reblogs 🥹🥹🥹

Tagging: @art-estrange

“How many holdouts, Donna?”

“Thirteen.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, knowing instantly from the number which faction of congresspeople had refused to agree to vote for the bill. He also knew who the ringleader of this group of thirteen was. Without her approval, the other twelve wouldn’t even breathe let alone vote yes. An abstinence, maybe. But a yes? Impossible. She was also one of the few who could reach across the aisle to get them the votes he and Murphy needed to pass the bill in Congress.

“What exactly does she want?”

“Bunch of stuff,” said Donna, flipping open the binder that contained the draft of the Child Health Assistance Program bill. From his seat, Javier could see the color coded remarks that decorated the pages. Only when it went to her office did it come back with the fucking rainbow splattered in the pages. When he was a freshman to congress, the outgoing congressman from his district had warned him about her.

Difficult. Nerdy. Pretentious. A fucking bitch. An absolute cunt.

He would never say the last two things about her, of course. If he so much as thought them, his mama would fly to DC and slap him.

“The premium increase on Medicaid for one. She thinks it’s too much. Did some math on the side, too,” she said, unfolding a sticky note that contained some scribbled out numbers. “She accounted for the average household income nationally and in her district and adjusted for projected inflation and arrived at an increase by 3% on the financial burden on families. She made a calculation for our district, too. And by Stoddard’s calculations, her estimate is accurate.”

“Right, right,” he said, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out towards the open window. “Has anyone told her that healthcare expenses have increased and we cannot afford to keep the Part B premiums at forty four fucking dollars?”

His staffer simply shrugged before beginning to explain all the other demands the congresswoman from West Virginia had. By the time they were through with the major issues, it was time for lunch.

“Try to get Barrett and Kilpatrick on board,” he said, getting up from his seat at the head of the table. He heard her grumble, but didn’t take it too personally. It would be easier to move a boulder up a hill than to convince anyone in the congresswoman’s faction to vote for something she didn’t vote for. He pressed the stub harder into his glass ashtray, his anger towards her manifesting in the present she got him.

“Yes, sir,” she said, marking the page they’d last discussed. His staffers shuffled out of their seats and out of the office, leaving him with just Donna.

“I hear she’s back in the building. Returned from her district last night. Maybe you can convince her?” She said expectantly. Out of all the people in his office, she was the only one who knew that he had a shot. No matter how narrow the possibilities. Fair’s fair, he thought. Since he tasked her with talking to Kilpatrick and Barrett.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “No harm in trying.” He would’ve laughed had someone else said that. There definitely was harm in trying. His sanity was at stake. He had a hard enough time just seeing her at the committee meetings. But if he couldn’t get members of his own party on board, he could bid goodbye to the dream of passing the bill.

He picked up the binder and sped through the hallways to her office, anxious she might leave for lunch. She usually didn’t, but made exceptions for when she met with her campaign team. Something about it being unethical to do campaign business in facilities paid for by the taxpayer. And illegal. Like him, she was a workaholic. If she wasn’t in her office, she was in her congressional district.

He stopped outside the double doors to her office, American flags on either side and a nameplate with her name and state written in gold. Right as he rose his fist to knock for courtesy’s sake, the door opened and a lanky young boy stepped out of her office, sandwich in hand. Intern.

“Is the congresswoman in?” He asked, making the boy jump back in surprise.

“Uhh…” the boy trailed, looking back at the door with wide eyes. So she was in. And the kid didn’t know whether he was one of the people to whom he should lie about his boss’ availability.

“She’s…busy?”

Javi snorted before putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gently nudging him away from the door. “Enjoy lunch, kid,” he said before slipping into her office. The boy said something in an effort to stop him, but the door thankfully muffled the sounds. He kicked the door with the deadbolt, eager to not get caught. Nothing interesting ever happened in congress. So the first wisp of smoke would be enough for gossips to start a fire. He walked past the front office with the plush couches for guests and right into the inside where the magic happened.

Sure enough, he found her hunched over her desk, punching numbers into a calculator with her left hand as her right scribbled them out on her notebook. The black high heeled shoes she wore pushed her ass out invitingly. His eyes trailed up the shoes, following the black lines of her stockings. He took a deep breath and turned away, his eyes landing on one of her staffers’ desks.

A carton box with sandwiches from the nearby cafeteria sat open, mostly empty but for three sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil. He wasn’t planning on lunch, but he wouldn’t decline after seeing some perfectly good sandwiches laid out in front of him.

“Get your own, Peña,” came a cold, stern voice right as he touched one.

“I would, but you owe me sustenance for making me read through all your notes. I need more nutrients to keep up with your shit,” he said, unwrapping the foil. He took a bite, nodding appreciatively as the well seasoned meat and garlic mayonnaise touched his tongue.

She put her pen down and turned around to finally face him. She looked well put together as she always did. A navy blue pinstriped skirt that clung to her beautifully, matching the jacket draped over her chair. Her white blouse was tucked in, her hair up in a neat bun to show off her pearl earrings. She placed a hand on her hip, crossed one leg in front of the other and narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not my fault that your diet of whiskey and cigarettes doesn’t nourish you enough to read some notes on your poorly drafted bill.”

“It’s called a draft for a reason, Glitter,” he scoffed, his lips curving up in a smirk as he used her nickname against her. He knew she hated it. He wasn’t even in congress for the origin of the nickname, but it took only days for him to learn that the Congresswoman from West Virginia had “accidentally” used a glitter pen to write notes on the final draft of a bill. Sure she changed the pen after she realized. Only one word was in the imbecilic ink, but the name stuck.

“I forgot that your standards are low.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. “What do you want now, Peña? Is it just the sandwich? I knew you had a tight budget over in the 23rd district of Texas, but I didn’t know the situation was so dire even the congressman had to mooch off someone else.”

“I already paid for it. With my soul.” He took another bite of the sandwich, unaffected by her jabs. As he chewed on his free lunch, he slapped a hand on the binder he abandoned on a staffer’s desk.

“We need to discuss your ridiculous demands.”

“I don’t see how asking to restore coverage for disabled children counts as ridiculous.” She leaned back against her desk and placed her palms flat against the surface. “Unless you hate children. Disabled children.”

“You’ve been in D.C. too long,” he said, annoyed by her spin. “And it’s not like I slashed the funding for disabled kids. They did. Don’t fight me for shit I didn’t do. And it’s not like they would’ve changed their minds by now. None of them have grown a conscience all of a sudden. They’ll just laugh us out of their office.”

“Peña, are you proposing the child health program for the children or the fucking pricks in the House who think it’s a waste of money to invest in healthcare?”

“To invest in healthcare, we need to get the bill passed. Would you rather get some coverage for kids or none?”

“Obviously, I would like some. But some or none aren’t the only options. If you’re going to cut out necessary things preemptively, we’ll get even less than what we need by the time we’re done negotiating with them.”

He darted his tongue out, licking his lips as he considered her words. They did not differ much ideologically. He too was an idealist like her. The people of his district voted him in for his ideals, for his promises. But D.C. had a way of making cynics out of optimists. It was easier for her to remain an idealist. There was no real threat to her seat.

“We don’t have an unlimited budget. It’s going to be a pain in the fucking ass trying to get this through. I put the shit you’re asking for and we can forget getting any coverage. Just like your demand to expand benefits for low income folks. If we do what you’re suggesting, it’ll be an expenditure of 3 Billion dollars over five years instead of the 1.5 billion we have available.”

She sighed and leapt up, sitting herself down on her desk. “Listen, Peña. I know you’re holding on to your seat by a thread because your margin of victory was thinner than said thread. You need to schmooze the conservatives back in Webb County. But I refuse to pay with the health of my people so you can keep your job.”

He fist clenched at the accusation and he let out a grunt. “Easy for you to say. Your district would vote for a fucking donkey if it had our party’s name slapped on it.”

It wasn’t so easy for him. Every move he made was like walking a tightrope between doing the right thing and what his constituents thought politically correct. One wrong move and they’d be out there on CNN calling him a fucking commie. Not that it bothered him. It just wasn’t good optics.

She held her pen up like it was a sword, like a threat. “They’ve tried to primary me multiple times, asshole. Never worked. I do the work and people vote me in for it.

“Listen. You wanna talk shit or actually work on this thing so we can get it passed?”

“I did my part, Peña. Thought you read through it since you’re claiming to be so exhausted.”

“It’s not gonna work sending it back and forth. Never does. We need to sit together and sort it out.”

“Right…” she drawled, her pink painted lips curling up in a smirk and her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. He huffed, knowing immediately what she was smirking about. He licked his lips and let himself think of what they did the last time they decided they would sit together and ‘sort it out’.

“You know I didn’t mean that,” he said, the words tasting bitter on his lips. He didn’t mean that. But he would never refuse an opportunity to do it again.

“Oh?” She teased, an eyebrow raised.

A carefully manicured fingernail dazzled under the light as she used her pointer finger to beckon him forward. He stepped towards her, his feet moving automatically like his cock remembered how he would be rewarded if he complied with her. Eyes connected to hers, he imagined what she looked like under her suit. If he would be able to catch even a glimpse of her body this time. If he would have to reach under her skirt, rip her stockings and push her panties aside to fuck her.

He loved knocking the smirk off her lips the last time, just the sight of her pliant against his chest giving him all the satisfaction he needed even before he came. She wasn’t arguing then. Just sweet little whimpers as she clutched onto his shirt and begged for release.

Just as he could deal with the smirk by reaching her and capturing her lips in a kiss, she lifted her high heel clad foot and placed it on his pants. Over his fucking cock to be exact. He raised his eyebrows at her, confused by her move. She put a gentle pressure on his cock with her foot, making him swallow.

“The fuck are you playing at, Glitter?”

“Nothing,” she drawled in a low, seductive voice. “Just testing if you have a foot thing.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking have a foot thing.”

“Yeah? Must be an ass thing then,” she said, lifting her leg higher and caressing his face with the top of her shoes. “Maybe it’s a shoe thing…” His breaths got quicker and his heart beat faster, his body enticed by her daring when she was usually quite conservative and no-nonsense. “You didn’t want me to take my shoes off last time. It was fucking uncomfortable. I know you like how my ass looks when I wear these.”

She trailed the pointy end of the heel down his neck, just barely touching his skin, driving him mad with want for more. The hairs on his body stood to attention and his cock twitched in his pants. She hooked the heel under his tie and pulled. When it budged only a little, he tugged on it himself, taking the thing off completely and stuffing it into his pocket.

Before she could retreat, he caught her leg. Hand wrapped around her ankle he placed a kiss above the strap of her shoes. He looked up at her, relishing in watching her confidence chip away bit by bit as he left a trail of kisses up her leg. A silent gasp left her lips as he stopped at the edge of her desk and put her leg over his shoulder.

“You up for a meeting? To discuss,” he said, tilting her head up with a finger to her chin.

A soft smile played on her lips as she said, “We’ll see…”

“Yeah? What exactly do I have to do to get you in my office, Congresswoman?”

“Convince me. Give me something I’d want.”

“Everything’s a quid pro quo to you, isn’t it?”

“Such is politics, Peña.”

“If you say so,” he said, leaning close and kissing her neck right above the collar of her blouse. He felt her swallow, making him smile against her neck. The perfume he knew she spritzed on her neck seduced his senses and he licked her skin in a quest for his other senses to experience her delicious scent.

“Javier… Someone could come in at any time.”

Javier… It was always Peña for her. Except when they fucked. Then it was Javier, Javier, oh fuck please, harder! Once she fixed herself post fuck, it was back to Peña with a tinge of disdain. Like some crude separation of church and state.

“Everyone else knocks. I’m the only one who drops by without announcing myself,” he spoke into her skin, his voice a low drawl. “And I locked the door. Because I know you can’t resist me.” She snorted, but relaxed beneath his touch. Her hand came up to his hair, touching him oh so lightly in a way that she wouldn’t mess it up too much.

“Fucking caveman,” she chided, her voice too warm for him to believe she opposed his behavior. He trailed a hand up her skirt, stopping where her thighs met. He cupped her pussy, his eyes fixed on her face to read signs of displeasure.

“Congresswoman, I just kissed up your leg like you’re a delicate fucking princess. A caveman would rip your clothes up, hold you down and fuck you hard,” he said, feeling proud of himself when he felt her pussy react to it under his hand.

“Guess you have a caveman thing,” he mocked, leaving her no time to respond before grabbing her stockings and ripping it in his hand. She shrieked and grabbed on to his shoulders to steady herself.

“That’s the second pair you’ve ruined, asshole.”

“I wouldn’t have to ruin your stockings if you just took your clothes off and bent over the desk.”

“Oh fuck you,” she laughed, letting out a little whimper when he pushed her panties aside and found her clit.

“I will, Congresswoman,” he said in a soft voice as he rolled her nub under his thumb. Her hand traversed his back, feeling the fabric of his suit and making him wish they had the time and privacy for him to take his clothes off. Feel her bare hand on his back and let her leave scratches as he took his time to get her across the finish line.

“You address everyone by their designation when you fuck them, Javier?” She rocked up against him, her chest flush against his as she searched for her pleasure under his thumb.

It felt so fucking good though she wasn’t doing anything to him, to have his mouthy, disagreeable colleague in the palm of his hand. To play her like an instrument. Have her spinning in her head for a second longer before her snarky retorts left her lips.

“No, just the infuriating, fuckable Congresswomen,” he joked, getting a shove to his chest. He didn’t budge, having prepared himself for the attack since he anticipated it.

“You tease all the men you fuck in your office with your shoe?”

“No, only the ugly ones,” she said, laughing. He smiled, happy with her giving it to him as good as she got. They were close, so close he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

“Asshole,” he whispered against her lips before closing the gap between them. She looped one arm around his neck and allowed her other hand to play with his suit lapel. Her lips were soft, contrasting the sharp words they often spoke to him. A sense of calm settled in his chest as she slipped her hand under his jacket. He felt her hand now, caressing him up and down, making him long to know what she would feel like against his skin.

Spurred by the thought, his hand rubbed her more enthusiastically. She whimpered into the kiss and he took the chance to slip his tongue between her lips. Her hand traveled up his shirt and clutched his collar, her thumb slipping under his shirt and touching his neck. He moaned and quickly felt her smirk against his lips.

Unwilling to give her the upper hand, he grabbed her panties and tugged, making the frail fabric rip in his hand.

“What the fuck, Javier!?”

“Shh…”

Unobstructed by her panties, he was free to let his hand do two things at once. He parted her pussy lips and pushed a finger inside her, her warm wetness inviting him in easily. He added another finger and coated himself in her slick.

She gasped as he returned his thumb to her clit, making him smile smugly. He pulled away so she could see him. So she could see the power he wielded over her.

“You’re much nicer like this, Congresswoman.”

“And you are more of a dickhead somehow,” she said, grabbing his cock through his pants. When she began stroking his length, he drew a sharp breath.

“Why wouldn’t I? You get wetter when I’m a dick to you. You get like this when we’re talking business too?”

“Of course not, assface.” She gritted her teeth and grabbed him harder, making him grunt.

“Maybe I should check the next time we’re yelling at each other in the middle of the hallway. Reach under your skirt and find your wet panties.”

Her grip on him got harder and her eyes narrowed at him, but her pussy clenched around his fingers. “See, you like it.”

“You’ll see what I like and don’t like when I break your little prick, Peña.”

“Thought I was Javier when I’m fucking you.”

“You thought wrong,” she said, squeezing his cock again.

He yelped, the pressure getting too much even through his pants.

“Fuck!”

“Yeah. Fuck,” she snarked, releasing him only to snake around to his behind and grab a cheek.

“Get it done quick. Unlike you, I have things to do after this.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should go now. Can’t keep the Congresswoman from doing the best for her constituents,” he mocked, pulling away from her.

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him back, trapping him in place with them. “Finish the fucking job,” she spoke, a serious expression overtaking her features.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, keeping up the pace of his thrust. He found her neck with his lips, placing sweet kisses on her skin. So close to her, he could feel the effect of every touch, every kiss. He locked the responses in his mind, ready to use the information for the next time he found himself with his hand up her skirt.

“The other side, Javier…” she breathed her command and he followed, eliciting a moan from her.

“Just like that… Keep going.” She thrusted back into his fingers, taking her pleasure from him eagerly. Every now and then, she issued a new command. When he obeyed, she rewarded him with sweet sounds of her pleasure.

As he brought her closer, she gripped his fingers tighter. Her eyes glazed over and she stopped giving instructions, only enjoying the fruits of his compliance with her earlier ones. She leaned against his shoulder, placing some of her weight on him. Being the sucker he was for beautiful women in the throes of pleasure, he placed a kiss on her head and cradled the back of her neck with his free hand.

“Come on, come for me…” he said softly when he felt her at the edge of the precipice.

“F-fucking make me, fucker,” she cursed, mewling when he changed the angle of his fingers to add a twist to his touches.

“Will you give me a meeting in exchange then? We could work it over together…” he negotiated with no shame whatsoever. It was a shameless business, politics.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to let out anything other than a breath as he assaulted her senses mercilessly. She shook her head in denial, making him smile at her defiance.

She panted as he wore her out, her chest heaving and her eyes rolled back. The hand gripping his lapel grew weak and she went limp against him. With a low moan, she came around his fingers and collapsed against him. He kept his fingers inside her, not having the heart to kiss out on how her pussy spasmed around them as she recovered from the high he brought her.

She lifted her head off his chest and dropped her legs, freeing him from her prison.

“You’re not getting a meeting in exchange for fingering me, Peña.”

“What does a man have to do then? Fuck you in the ass? Cause I’ll do it,” he said, laughing when she shoved at his chest weakly. He pulled out finally and took a step back before grabbing his handkerchief and wiping his fingers clean of her release. She hopped off her desk and pulled out her handkerchief from her purse. She unfolded the white cloth embroidered with flowers and leaves and dipped a corner in her glass of water.

He raised an eyebrow at her when she turned back around to offer it to him.

“You have lipstick on your face.”

“Ah.”

“Where?” He asked, accepting the cloth from her.

“Right there. On your neck,” she said, pointing vaguely at his neck. He swiped where he guessed the lipstick mark was and looked up at her, asking silently if he got it.

She shook her head and reached back into her purse. She offered him a black circular box- a makeup thing he knew had a mirror in it.

“Thanks,” he said and pried it open.

“Who are you expecting to vote for this from the other side?” She asked as she adjusted her clothes and reapplied her lipstick. He wiped off the traces of her from his neck and lips. He closed the box, careful not to spill the powder inside.

“Hayworth, Calvert, Cunningham, Doolittle. Rohrabacher would do it, but it’ll require a lot of negotiation. Chenoweth would find the bill agreeable, but it’s unlikely that she’ll vote for it,” he said, a little disappointed that she was talking business even though that was why he came over.

“Yeah. She has a poor record on bipartisanship. Is Evans on board? Cause he’s pretty close to Porter and he can convince him to come aboard.”

“I think he will. Stoddard is talking to Evans’ people and it seems he’s content.”

“Alright,” she said, nodding. “I don’t have time for this shit, but it needs to be done. Surely your buddy on the other side can convince a lot more people to sign on. If he isn’t confident, there’s no point in us discussing this further.”

“Murphy’s got a list. He’s still in talks with them.”

“He’s still in talks? Motherfucker, why did you waste my time then? Could’ve waited for his chipped down draft before you sent a copy to my office.”

Because as much as I fucking hate you, I respect your intelligence. I respect that DC’s cynicism hasn’t turned you away from your ideologies.

But that wasn’t what he said. That wasn’t how this partnership worked. Political alliance didn’t equal friendship. Hell, Murphy wasn’t his political ally. He was on the other side. Yet they were friends.

“Mhmm. I had it sent to you so early on ‘cause I know you’re the hardest to please.”

“Well,” she said, mischief playing at the corners of her lips. She walked behind her desk and sat back down. “You pleased me okay today. I could do without all the yapping building up to the act, though. Really sucks the fun out of it, hearing your stupid voice.”

“Asshole,” he mumbled, as he pocketed her handkerchief and retrieved his tie. She laughed, the sound eliciting a smile from him. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he busied himself tying his tie, loath to have her see him enjoy something so trivial.

“I’ll see you at the committee meeting then,” he said when he got his tie back on.

“Yeah, see you there to watch them slash programs so they can give tax cuts to their buddies.”

He snorted, agreeing with her. It drained him to sit in on the budget committee meetings. It was a high honor when he got assigned to such an important committee. Felt like a pat on the back for his hard work. Until he had to do the hard work of arguing against the fucking worst suggestions futilely. Nothing fucking mattered when they didn’t have majority. Yet, he argued. So did she.

“Pass me a sandwich on your way out, Peña.”

He picked one of the two remaining sandwiches. “Here you go,” he said, making a throwing motion without tossing it. She reacted, throwing her hands up in the air to catch a sandwich that never came.

“Asshole,” she cursed, picking up her paperweight. Before she could throw it at him, he skipped away, another free sandwich in hand. As he closed the door to her office, he could’ve sworn he heard her giggle.

.

.

.

Main Masterlist

Guys, I’m so excited about how fun this could be. Javi in his suits. Angry Javi. Javi taking his tie off like in that one Narcos episode from season 3. Javi and reader having clandestine meetings under the guise of work. Maybe a sex scandal? Who know… Let me know what you think of Congressman!Javi and Congresswoman!Reader.

[ghostface-knight]

After years of seeing "I'm very disappointed" on report cards, and hearing "Thank God your dad can just buy your way into college" from classmates, Stephanie Lauter had accepted that she was not smart.

It wasn't that she didn't like to learn -- when she was young, she loved school. Her favorite class of science. She loved learning about the world around her, and how it worked.

Miss Tessburger would pick her up after school in her dad's black Porsche, and Steph would immediately start explaining the things she had picked up from class that day.

"Did you know that insects make up half the world's known species?" She'd recite.

And each time, she'd be met with something along of the lines of, "Stephanie, your father is very busy today, so don't bother him with this nonsense."

She thought it was the fact itself. Maybe Miss Tessburger just didn't like insects! Steph knew her father was a very busy man, and so it made sense that she shouldn't bother him unless the fact was really worth it. So she'd try history facts. She'd tell Miss Tessburger about weather phenomena. She'd explain mathematical equations which, although not groundbreaking for an adult, were quite impressive for a child of eight years old. Each time, she watched for the hint that this time, it was worth telling her dad. And each time, she recieved the same, disinterested responses.

So, eventually, she came to the conclusion that the things she was learning in school where not important. Her father was very successful, and he didn't want to hear the things she was learning, so who was to say she needed to know them?

And so she stopped telling Miss Tessburger facts on the way home from school. She stopped reading for fun. She stopped paying attention in class.

That was when her grades started getting worse, but the school didn't notify her father unless she failed a class, and he couldn't be bothered to check each time Steph brought home a report card.

In a way, it was easier to slack off. She didn't have to consider the complex concepts she used to seek out. Pretty soon, she forgot the rush of exhilaration she used to get from learning. Pretty soon, it was like she had never cared in the first place.

So no, Stephanie Lauter was not smart.

And yet, when Peter Spankoffski tutored her, he treated her like she was Albert Fucking Einstein.

"So, the domain of f(x) cannot be zero." She worked out, scribbling on her loose leaf. She looked up at Pete, expecting him to correct her. Instead, he broke into a goody grin.

"You got it Steph! Composite functions have nothing on you." He looked over her work with admiration. "I'm not sure you even need me anymore. You know all this stuff."

Steph smirked. "Maybe, but I think I'll keep you around."

She turned back to her paper, but could clearly see Pete turning bright red out of the corner of her eye.

"Ah, see, I do need you. Because I have no idea what the hell this one is asking me to do." She pointed to an equation.

Pete leaned over, and read the equation out loud. "Find the inverse of f(x) = (x/2) + 7. Oh, this one's easy." He said, grabbing a pencil and starting to write.

"Easy for you to say." Steph mumbled. "You're in the hardest math class this shit-hole offers."

Pete looked up at her. "Not true! I'm in AP Calculus, and they offer Linear Algebra." He sighed, noting Steph's unamused expression. "Look, I only said that cause I know you know this."

"I don't though!" She groaned in exasperation.

"Yes you do! How do you find the inverse of a function?"

"I don't know!" She exclaimed.

"Steph, look at me." Reluctantly, Steph obliged.

Pete took her hand, and looked into her eyes with his own deep brown ones. She softened.

"Take a breath. You know how to do this, I promise. How do you find the inverse of a function?"

Steph took a breath and closed her eyes. "You- you switch x and y, then solve for x."

Pete's smile was the only confirmation she needed. "I told you that you don't need me." He said softly as she got to work solving the equation.

Steph considered it. "Either way, can you stay?"

And the doe eyes strike again. "Of course, Steph." He paused. "I'll always stay."

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late

(Professor Logan Howlett x F! Student Mutant Reader)

Click here for chapter index

Chapter Summary: The President of the University hears you out about Logan's behavior.

(A/N): yay!! this chapter took me FOREVER!! i'm so sorry about the wait, i just wanted to make sure i got everything perfect. i mentioned in the notes for the last chapter that i might recommend a song for each chapter and i think i will start that this chapter!! so for this chapter i'd recommend listening to sailor song by gigi perez. enjoy!

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI!!, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f! receiving, dirty talk, swearing, overstimulation lowkey

Word Count: 7,055

Chapter 5

Time passes painfully slow outside of the president’s office. Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your blouse, trying not to get yourself too worked up with feverish anger as you organize your thoughts. You can’t let the president know how charged and complicated your feelings towards Logan truly are, no, all he needs to know is what Logan did wrong. You’ve never had a meeting like this before. You don’t have problems with people, you don’t argue with professors, you don’t report people. In all your years of academia, you’ve never had to do anything like this before. And you’re nervous. The president’s assistant calling your name pulls you from your thoughts, causing you to look up at her eagerly.

“He’s ready for you, ma’am,” she smiles politely, gesturing to the office door to her right. You thank her as you stand, smoothing your skirt down with your clammy hands. You open the door gently to find Dr. Charles Xavier sat behind a grand oak desk, scribbling on an array of papers. He’s a thin, older man, completely bald. You didn’t know much about him before this meeting, other than the fact that he’s paralyzed from the waist down and can often be seen traversing campus on his motorized wheelchair. He looks up from his work as he hears you come in, smiling politely as he confirms your name.

“Yes, sir, thank you for meeting with me,” you say, approaching the desk to shake his hand before sitting in a cushioned chair situated in front of him.

“I’m more than happy to accommodate you, my dear. Now, what can I do for you?” he asks, his voice seemingly coated in a genuine concern as he folds his hands in front of him.

“Yes, sir. Um, I’m not sure how much of my email your assistant disclosed,” you start sheepishly, clearing your throat in nervousness. “But, uh, I’ve been having some problems with my American Civil War professor—“

“Logan Howlett,” he cuts you off, a look of understanding washing over his face, like he’s used to hearing his name be brought up often.

“Yes, him,” you confirm, an awkward smile turning the corners of your mouth up. “You don’t sound surprised.”

“Logan can be quite difficult, at times. I’ve heard my fair share of stories from student and faculty alike,” he remarks, very matter of factly, not bleeding too much emotion into his words. Which makes it difficult for you to know which side he’s on: Logan’s or yours. “Now, tell me, what troubles you, child?”

“I—uh, I don’t really know where to start,” you admit, embarrassed as every ounce of preparation has left your mind. 

“Just tell me everything, starting from the beginning,” he advises, his voice soothing you in a way you can’t quite explain. So you start from the beginning, obviously leaving out the part about your repetitive, lewd sex dreams. You try your best to remain as polite as possible when you talk about the things you and Logan said to each other in the heat of an argument, omitting some of the more colorful language in an attempt to maintain Dr. Xavier’s respect. Once you finish detailing the past week’s events, you exhale a sigh of relief, Dr. Xavier offering you a sympathetic look.

“I see, I’m sorry to hear about all of those experiences and how they troubled you,” he offers sympathetically, “I will have a meeting with Logan and see to it personally he gets the proper discipline for his actions and the clear harm they’ve caused you.”

You sigh in relief, releasing tension from your shoulders you didn’t even know you were holding there.

“Thank you, Dr. Xavier, you have no idea how much that means to me,” you beam.

“Please, call me Charles, and I am always here if you need anything, my dear,” he consoles, a kind smile reaching his eyes in sincerity, “We must learn to take care of each other, in these trying times.”

“Yes, sir, of course, thank you again,” you reach across the desk to shake his hand, he accepts generously, using both his hands to encase yours.

His words put you at such ease, you haven’t felt this kind of relief in ages. It’s like you’ve just finished a productive therapy session. Like your mind has been tucked in and put to bed. You gather your things, and head to the door of Charles’ office. He calls your name, causing you to whip your head back around to look at him.

“Everything will work itself out, rest assured,” he remarks with a warm smile. You nod, believing in what he says wholeheartedly. For the first time in a week, you don’t feel plagued with overwhelming feelings for Logan. You often found yourself looking for him in places that you might run into him, in stores, on campus, at red lights. But you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. As you drive to work, passing by the bar, you don’t even think to see if his truck might be there like you’ve done the past few days. As you stock shelves in the store, you stop hoping that he might walk through the door to buy cigars and a case of beer again. You’ve effectively exiled him from your thoughts and feelings. He could be fired tomorrow for what he did, and it wouldn’t matter to you. There’s a warm bed waiting for you at home, and, for once, you do not wish for Logan to be there waiting for you too. 

…

You’re greeted in the morning to the sound of your alarm, no wet dreams this time that jerk you awake. This morning, you wake up by yourself. You make breakfast for yourself. You get dressed for yourself. The only thing you do for Logan, is print out your essay. You drive to class, not a worry or care in the world for him or his opinions. After your talk with Charles, you know Logan cannot, at the very least, pull another stunt like he did Monday. You didn’t see him on Wednesday, as you were in your meeting with Charles then and cared more about that than being in his class with his “bullshit lectures,” as Logan himself put it.

Yet here you are, sitting down in his class, ready to listen to another bullshit lecture. He looks almost sullen today, like something heavy weighs on his shoulders. Maybe Charles has met with him and he’s sulking now as a result of being slapped on the wrist. Maybe this is his last day. Maybe they’re putting him on a forced sabbatical and replacing him with someone who isn’t an asshole for the rest of the semester. Logan clears his throat, preparing to give his lecture to the class. He holds everyone’s attention now, the scattered murmurs of friendly conversations coming to a halt as notebooks open and pens are clicked.

“Westward expansion, manifest destiny, whatever the hell you want to call it, was the topic of your essay,” he starts, “A lot of people say that it was a cause of the Civil War. I’d be inclined to agree. Some people would say that it helped unify the nation after the war. But I disagree,” Logan states, speaking from a place you haven’t heard him speak from before. “I wat—I read about natives being killed in cold blood, kids bein’ beat in schools so bad they forget where they’re from, mountains of dead buffalo rotting to waste just so they can watch these native people die off. You can’t unify a country by hatin’ people. You can’t win a war against slavery then turn around and still treat people like vermin. You hear of these things now, you think shit like this doesn’t happen—won’t happen anymore. We all think we’re immune. Til’ one day you wake up and all of a sudden there’s a target on your back. Maybe you wake up tomorrow and they wanna put you in a school,” he points to someone in the class for emphasis, “Make you forget everything you’ve ever known, rip your child away from you like you’re cattle. It doesn’t take a lot to convince the world you’re less human than everyone else. You’re not guaranteed shit in this country. Not freedom. Not liberty. Not independence. We’re all one bad president away from becoming nazis. Don’t forget that. And don’t get comfortable.”

The room is dead quiet, almost like a collective shock has washed over everyone. Logan has never been this candid in class before. He just regurgitates facts from the textbook without much opinion or thought to what he’s saying. You barely know what to make of that, as well as the potential source of his rant. No one else dares to speak, to question, to think. Logan’s gaze flits to you briefly, you make eye contact. To anyone else, this wouldn’t be anything more than a passing glance. To you, that meant something. You don’t know what, but there was something underlying there. Jesus, what did Charles say to him, you think to yourself. And then, like nothing happened, Logan cracks open his textbook to carry on with his lecture, causing everyone to rush back to their notebooks to take their notes. You somehow bring your focus back to the curriculum, choosing to ignore his impromptu monologue and carry on with your day.

Yes, he surprised you. But you don’t care. Charles probably just knocked some sense into him so he’d stop acting like an immature prick and start caring about his job. But never mind with that, you still have a whole afternoon ahead of you, full of classes and work and not thinking about Logan. In fact, you really don’t think about him at all the rest of the day. You had too much classwork to really allow your mind to drift, the convenience store was busy with a shipment that you had to take inventory of, and you have a pint of ice cream calling your name at home.

The storm outside contrasts your state of mind as you drive home from work. You don’t feel clouded, angered, passionate—you feel quiet. But not the forced quiet you’ve put out into the world as a means of protection, no, there’s a tranquility to you now. There’s nothing to fear, as your feelings for Logan no longer threaten to reveal your powers. You can live the life of anonymity you’ve always wanted to. 

As you pull into your driveway, your stomach drops at the sight of a truck parked in front of your house. Logan’s truck. What the fuck is he doing here, you think to yourself, how does he know where I live? You put your car in park, stepping out into the pouring rain, you try to beeline for your front door, really not wanting to see or speak to him. Logan steps out of his truck and starts calling your name, you do your best to ignore him as you approach your door. Just as you think you’ve made it, he slides in front of you, stopping you from putting your key in and unlocking it.

“Logan, you need to leave,” you say calmly, avoiding eye contact with him, fixing your gaze to the ground.

“I can’t,” he says breathlessly. You look up to meet his gaze, his eyes look needy and earnest, like a puppy melting into its owner’s lap. His chest rises and falls as he pants heavily. “I have to...” He trails off, seemingly struggling to find the words. You don’t have time for this, you don’t want him here. You scoff in frustration and shove him away from you, he steps off your porch and into the pouring rain. You begin to unlock your door, despite Logan pleading your name. Your door creaks open, his pleading grows incessant, the rain pounds against your roof with intensity. You whip around to face him, throwing your things into your house before you charge towards him. 

“Goddamn you, I can’t do this anymore!” you bark, allowing the rain to soak you as you advance towards Logan further and further, watching as he backs away. “Just when I thought I was done with you, when I thought I’d never have to spend an extra second thinking about you again, you show up here, and for what? Why did you come here, huh? To beg for my forgiveness?”

Logan’s jaw tenses, like he’s unable to find the answer himself, looking like a wreck as he gets soaked by the rain without a care. Does he even know why he came here? You scoff in disbelief, almost laughing.

“Do you even know why you came here?” you ask, flicking wet hair from your eyes as you stare him down. He just looks at you. That’s all he does. God, does he have nothing to say? Nothing? “Well, if it’s forgiveness you want, you’re not getting it. I don’t owe you anything.”

You turn around, stomping to your door until Logan’s hand grasps your arm and spins you back around to face him.

“You owe me everything, damn it,” he utters passionately, his voice intense and low but full of sadness. His eyes almost look glassy, but you can’t tell if the tears in his eyes are real or a result of the rain that’s hit his face. His breath is heavy, like he desperately needs to convey something, his grip on your arm tightening slightly, “You owe me. In more ways than you know. For every time you’re in my head—in my dreams. You owe me. And you don’t even know it.”

Your breath hitches when he says that. Did he just say dreams? He has dreams about you?

“Dreams?” you question, trying your best to hide your shock as you push him to clarify, blinking the rain out of your eyes. He lets go of your arm and turns away from you, hands on his hips as he starts pacing. Like he’s considering what he wants to say—how he wants to say it.

“Almost every night since I’ve met you,” he mutters intensely, as he looks at everything but you. “You don’t know what it’s been like—the hell I’ve been through tryna’ get you outta my head.”

You’re dumbfounded. You don’t know what to say. Has he felt this way the whole time? Does he dream the same dreams as you? You’re buzzing with thoughts and feelings, ones you thought you put to bed.

“Logan, what dreams?” you press further as you take two steps closer to him, his back still to you as you search for the answer you’ve been desperately seeking from him. He peeks over at you, rain dripping off the tip of his nose onto his leather-clad shoulder, clearly hesitant to disclose the content of the dreams.

“I—I can’t,” he sputters.

You swallow hard, deciding to take a risk you probably shouldn’t be taking.

“The first dream,” you start, “Was I in your office?”

He immediately turns to face you, looking at you with utter shock painted on his face.

“How did you know that?” 

You don’t answer. You’re locked in place, incapable of speaking. Perhaps you’re too scared to say it. 

“Maybe you owe me too,” you murmur, stitching your brows together, trying to stop your chin from trembling.

He stares at you with a passion that makes you almost crumble to the earth. He walks towards you, a slight hesitation in his step once he’s no more than a few inches away from your face.

“Logan,” you whisper, almost gasp, feeling a surge of fear rise within you. You can’t give in. You can’t let him get too close to you. His hands reach up to cup your face, and you want to shove him off. You want to tell him to stop. But it feels so right when he holds you like this, thumbs attempting to brush the constant flow of rainwater from your cheeks. 

“We can’t,” you mutter, bringing your hands to his wrists, wanting to use them to pull his hands from your face. But you find solace in the way he’s holding you. He looks down to your lips, then back to your eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up into the slightest smile.

“To hell with can’t,” he husks, his voice bleeding gravel and a fervent want. His head dips down, his lips parting as he tries to capture your lips with his. But you push him off, backing away in fear of letting him get close to you. You can’t do it. Because deep down you know that if you let him kiss you, you’ll let him in to every part of yourself. There won’t be a corner of you that won’t be unknown by him. And you can’t let that happen.

“No. Logan, I’m sorry. I can’t,” you declare with a shaky voice, tears welling in your eyes as you take as many steps back as you can. Your retreat almost causing you to slam into the trunk of the oak tree in front of your house.

He utters your name, taking a few steps towards you before continuing, “If you don’t want to do this—if you don’t want me because I’m your teacher…Say the word, and I’ll never speak to you again.”

You gape at him, doe eyes staring up into him as he speaks to you with clarity.

“But if you’re backing away from this because of fear—you don’t wanna let me in,” he continues, practically pinning you to the tree as he steps closer, “Then you’re gonna have to trust me—you gotta let me in.” He brings his hands back to your face, keeping your gaze earnestly. You can’t help the tears that roll down your cheeks now. You could just say it—tell him that you don’t want to be with him because he’s your professor. Just one sentence and you may never have to speak to him again. You’d never have to see him, save for class, you can just forget about all of this. But you can’t. The words feel like poison in your mouth. You look like you’re choking on air trying to form the words.

“Logan,” you manage, “You don’t understand, you can’t—you don’t want to get close to me.” Your cries are growing louder, your words becoming choked by your sobs. Logan soothes your name, bringing his head down to your level, now eye to eye with you. You grip his wrists tightly, keeping his hold on your face firm.

“Well—maybe I do understand. But you won’t know unless you tell me!” he stresses, his voice growing in intensity as he tries to get you to understand. You go back and forth, Logan pleading your name, as you shake your head, yelling ’no’ insistently.

“Logan, I can’t!” you resist, your face twisting into a mixture of heartbreak and sorrow. He growls your name desperately.

“Listen to me, I understand!”

“You don’t!” you wept, pushing him off of you and turning towards your house, being done with this and him. He yells your name, but you stay your course. He yells your name again, you ignore it. From behind you, he lets out a vicious growl of effort before you hear a sharp ‘snikt’ and a slice, causing you to turn around to witness a broad limb begin to fall from above Logan’s head. You panic.

“Logan!” you gasp, reflexively raising your hands and using all your strength to project a large crystalline barrier between the tree’s limb and Logan’s body. You support its full weight before throwing it to an empty patch of grass, your eyes still glowing fuchsia from the use of your powers. Your stomach drops. Panic starts to set in from the reality of what you just did. Then a glint of something metal hits your eyes, drawing your attention to Logan’s balled up fist. Three prongs of metal protrude from his knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine. You almost don’t believe it. You blink in disbelief, stepping off the porch as you approach Logan slowly. The rain showers you once again, washing away your uncertainty and your fear. Logan stares at you, chest heaving, claws still bared. Teeth slightly bared, breath hitching when you’re within inches of him under the tree. Your hand reaches down to his wrist, pulling it upwards so you may get a better view of his claws. You stare at them incredulously, still struggling to comprehend how this is possible.

“The whole time?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes flicking between his eyes and the sharp blades.

“These don’t exactly grow overnight, bub,” he smirks, retracting them back into himself, startling you slightly.

“You’re like me?” you question, though it sounds a bit more like a revelation. You run your fingers over his knuckles, feeling where the blades once were. He nods gently, bringing his hand to your cheek, your hand staying with his wrist, leaning into his touch.

“I’m like you,” he confirms, bringing his other hand to your forehead, brushing stray wet hairs from your face. His gaze flicks down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. There’s nothing holding you back now. Standing on your tiptoes, swinging your arms around his neck, you pull yourself up to connect your lips with his in a desperate kiss. He leans into you, eagerly, wrapping his arms around your back to pull your frame into his as firmly as he can. Electricity rushes through your body, almost making you shudder with excitement at the feel of his lips on yours. His tongue swipes gently against your bottom lip, you welcome it into your mouth, meeting his tongue with your own. He swallows you, moving his hands to your face like he can’t let you slip away from him for even a second. You cradle the back of his neck, slipping your fingers through his soaked hair. He deepens the kiss further, sliding his hands down to your waist, dipping you backwards slightly as he grips you tightly there. You moan gently, growing more desperate the longer you kiss him, needing to feel more of him. You break the kiss, panting heavily, sputtering as rain water attempts to enter your mouth. Logan breathes with you, your nose grazing his, not being able to help the smile on your face. He smiles back.

“Can we get out of the rain?” you chuckle, a chill overtaking your body as the rain’s assault continues. He nods, and without hesitating, he scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style towards your porch. You yelp gently as he whisks you away, maneuvering through your front door, shutting it with a kick behind him. After he sets you down, the next few moments are a blur—kisses growing sloppy, shoes flying off, hands pulling at jackets. Clumsily, you lead Logan up the stairs, not allowing the kiss to falter. He eventually gets tired of tripping over you, scooping you up by the ass and lifting, which causes you to respond by eagerly wrapping your legs around him. It’s messy, the way he bumps you into furniture, pressing you against the wall, attacking your lips with a feverish desire. One hand glued to your ass for support, the other searching the wall for the threshold to your bedroom, in an effort to maintain the contact of his lips on yours. Eventually, pushing the both of you through to your room before throwing you on your bed, no care for the wet clothes and hair that are soaking your sheets. 

He looms above you, his strong stance making you wonder how you can be in the presence of someone so perfect. In one fell swoop, Logan pulls his white tank top over his head, revealing his chiseled physique to you, a silver chain hanging from his neck. You don’t have time to ask about it before he’s on top of you, swallowing you, your legs wrapped around him as he grinds down into you making you gasp into the kiss. He paws at your shirt, tugging and dragging it up your body until you’re forced to remove your mouth from his to allow him to take it off of you. There’s not a moment wasted with him. His hands need to be on you at all times; whether he’s grasping your breasts, your waist, your face. He explores every inch of you with his hands. A whine escapes your lips when he breaks the kiss, but he’s swift—trailing his mouth down your neck. The kisses there are sloppy, wet, harsh as his teeth nip at your skin. His lips drag down your chest where he playfully bites at your lacy bra making your breath hitch in anticipation.

This is more than you could’ve dreamt, you have to keep reminding yourself that this is real. He’s real. He’s here. His lips and tongue coating your body is real, his hands pulling down your pants is real, the gaze you see situate between your legs is real. Everything feels heightened, each touch electric and charged. Logan sits up, roughly pulling you down the bed so your hips are hanging off the edge, the floor meeting his knees so he can be eye level with your thinly clothed pussy. He’s savoring you, biting the soft skin of your inner thigh, gripping your waist in an effort to keep you planted. You squirm under his grasp as you grow more and more desperate for his mouth on your aching cunt. 

“Logan,” you rasp, scratching at the sheets beneath you with need. He gazes at you from between your legs, a cocky grin making you melt. 

“Dreamt ‘bout this,” he husks, his hot breath fanning your lace-clad pussy before he plants gentle kisses to the crease between your inner thigh and labia. The occasional dipping of his tongue to the sensitive skin there makes you writhe more under his grasp. Hands glide up your stomach as he continues carefully teasing you, avoiding your core as much as possible with each flick of his tongue and kiss planted. He palms your tits through your bra lazily before bringing his hands back down your body to toy with the waistband of your panties. You can tell that he’s enjoying this immensely, taking his time with such passionate care you almost don’t mind how slowly he pulls down your panties. Lifting your legs to allow him to pull them the rest of the way off your legs and to the floor, you almost want to giggle that you could’ve taken them off this entire time with your powers. But you enjoy this—how carefully he’s taking his time and savoring each swell and curve of your body till you’re spread bare in front of his eyes. 

In any other circumstance, you’d be hiding away sheepishly under such an intense gaze, but Logan’s eyes aren’t boring into you possessively. They’re drinking you, digesting your appearance with such an intensity you’re struggling to comprehend how he’s been able to resist you for so long. You gasp when his tongue flicks your throbbing clit gently, arching your back off of the bed. He’s testing the waters now, priming your arousal so you’re good and ready for him. His tongue moves painfully slow, licking the inside of your lips as you squirm in anticipation. Then he moves more center, running his tongue along the full length of your pussy, causing you to elicit a throaty moan in approval. He groans in appreciation at your neediness for him, taking it as a sign to dive into you completely. You can’t help the moan that leaves your mouth as his tongue laps at your clit hungrily. The sensitivity sending shockwaves through your body as he applies expert pressure to the sensitive bud. Your hand flings to his still-wet hair, gripping a fistful as you hold him to your pussy. 

He ravishes you. Lapping at your juices noisily as he brings one hand from your waist to dip a finger into your slick core. You groan at the sudden feeling of fullness, quickly adding a second finger to pump in and out of you. His pace is consistent, tongue at your clit, fingers in and out of you, and you can barely take it anymore. His digits stroking the most sensitive parts inside of you while his mouth works expertly at your clit—practically making out with it. God, you don’t know how much longer you’ll last like this, gasping and moaning with each curl of his fingers, Logan growling into your pussy with approval of the lewd noises you make for him. Every synapse is firing inside of you as you become laser-focused on the pleasure he gives you. You’re a mess—sputtering broken moans and words of encouragement as he works you closer and closer to your climax.

“Logan,” you gasp, “I-I’m—“ Your grip on his hair growing more desperate, trying your best to not flail your body too much as he devours you. He doesn’t say anything in response to you, far too focused on your pussy to offer more than moans in approval of your impending orgasm, like he’s egging you on with his groans and grunts. Your arousal swirls inside of you, butterflies fluttering through your bloodstream as you get closer and closer. A taut cord somewhere deep inside of you gets pulled tighter and tighter, till it snaps with white hot pressure. A guttural moan escapes your throat as a flood of pleasure rushes through your entire body, all the way to the bright fuchsia emanating from your eyes. Logan guides you from your orgasm, letting your clenching pussy ride it out on his fingers while your clit throbs on his tongue. Wave after wave hits you, like your body can’t shake the pleasure he’s given you. Back arching off the bed, your body wriggling and twitching from the force of your orgasm. The pace of Logan’s tongue slows and the pressure eases gently. Eyes half-lidded, breath heavy, you’re on cloud nine as you revel in one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had. Your bliss shrouded you so much you barely noticed the pace of Logan’s tongue quickening, his fingers gently curling inside of you as he tries to bring you towards another peak. You inhale sharply at the sudden pleasure pulsing from your clit.

“Logan,” you rasp, your body barely able to contain your writhing as he pulls you towards another orgasm. He groans into you as he feels you clench around his fingers, quickly approaching another climax. Tongue flat against your clit, lapping at it feverishly, your arousal bubbles up deep inside of your stomach before reaching its boiling point, yet again, and cascading white hot pleasure throughout your body. Your eyes pulsate pink as your moans reverberate around the space. You’ve never had an orgasm induced by another man, let alone two. Chest heaving, you attempt a glance at where Logan is situated between your legs. He’s pulled away from your center now, chin wet with a mixture of his saliva and your slick. He stares at you lustfully, panting as he plants lazy kisses to your inner thigh. Logan gets up off his knees, undoing his belt before he shoves his pants down his legs, his erection visible through his boxers. Your head falls back against the bed as he crawls on top of you, trailing kisses up your stomach to your chest. He stops at your bra-clad chest, his pelvis situated between your legs.

“Sit up,” he instructs huskily. You oblige, sitting up on your elbows to allow his arm behind you so he can unclasp your bra swiftly. The straps release their tension from your shoulders, shrugging the garment off with ease. Logan resumes the kisses to your chest from where he left off, beginning to suckle and bite at the tender flesh of your breasts and leaving marks in his wake. You hum in approval, arching into him, your bare pussy grazing his erection gently—the motion enough to elicit a low growl from his throat. He kisses up your neck, leaving licks to your jaw before capturing your lips in another needy kiss. You moan into his mouth, hips grinding down into yours. You long to feel him completely bare under you, growing desperate as the kiss deepens. Deciding you’ve had enough of his boxers, you take matters into your own hands. A slight flick of your wrist and you’ve unraveled the atomic structure of his boxers, leaving him bare above you. There’s a hesitation in his next kiss, breaking it to look down at his lower half in confusion, then back up at you.

“How’d you do that?” He asks, a mixture of confusion and amusement in his voice. You grab the back of his head, pulling him back down to your face so you can resume the kiss.

“Fuck now…ask later,” you murmur between kisses, to which Logan accepts without protest. Now you can feel the full length of his cock pressed up against your center. And this shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, considering you’ve dreamt about this, but he’s big. His size has become so much more real without the dreamy haze that you’re used to clouding it. His hips snap and the tip of his cock slips into your entrance, making you both groan at the contact. Your nails bite his skin, leaving light indentations that are gone almost instantaneously, you take notice but move on quickly when you feel Logan line himself up at your entrance.

“We’re gonna take it nice and slow, baby,” he husks, the dog tags around his neck swinging like a pendulum. You’re sure now that there’s a waterfall between your legs and that the warm up won’t be necessary, but then he presses his tip in further and you gasp suddenly at the sharp pain.

“Good girl,” he drawls, clearly trying to keep his own pleasure in control, “Take some more for me, princess.” He sinks in a few more inches. Tears prick your eyes from the stretch he’s causing to your pussy, but it feels so good. You need him deeper. Your legs hook around him, heels digging into his ass in an effort to spur him on. 

“Deeper, Logan, please,” you whine, lazily and desperately capturing his lips in a kiss.

“You sure, baby?” He asks cautiously, murmured between kisses. You nod eagerly, attempting to drive him further in and before you can even prepare it, he does. Spearing you nearly in half, you break the kiss, a mixture of moans and pained groans emanating from your lips. This is so much harder than you remember it being in your subconscious. The stretch, the fullness, the way he’s reaching your cervix already without even trying. Tears escape your eyes, but despite the strain his dick is putting on your body, it feels so good inside of you. You resume the kiss hastily, bucking your hips slightly in an attempt to get Logan to begin thrusting.

“Fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, groaning when he slides out of you, then back in languidly. You both groan into the kiss, Logan having trouble keeping his mouth on yours while he begins his thrusts. He keeps the pace slow in an attempt to preserve the integrity of your pussy and not tear you in half, but you need more of him. You want to feel him in every corner of you. 

“Logan, I’m not gonna snap, you can fuck me.”

He looks down at you, lips grazing yours, when suddenly his eyes grow darker and more lustful. Clearly planning on doing just that, he readjusts himself slightly for better leverage, and thrusts into you harder than he has all night. Back arching into him, your pained gasp melts into a high pitched moan. Logan quickens his pace now, slamming into you with animalistic intent. His mouth drops to your neck, where he kisses and sucks on the skin, marking his territory with bruised intent. He bites down into your flesh as your heels press into his ass and force him deeper into you. With each thrust he prods your cervix, making you unsure if your moans are from the sharp pain or the immense pleasure from the fullness of his cock and stretch he provides for your pussy.

“So—so tight for me, babygirl,” he growls, skin clapping against skin with a speed you didn’t even know a person could be capable of going. It’s overwhelming, you’re sure that an average person would break in half from the strength of his thrusts, even with your heightened strength you’re sure you’re going to be feeling sore well into next week. His pace doesn’t falter, not even for a second, his pants fan the skin of your neck as your nails dig into his back. You’re not even sure if he’s noticed the marks you’re leaving on his skin, caught up within his own pleasure.

“Fuck, baby—close, so close,” he groans, pulling his face from your neck to lock his lips with yours. His thrusts are so fast that you have a hard time keeping up with the kiss, a part of you growing exhausted from the onslaught on your pussy and ready for him to come inside of you.

“Come for me, please,” you whine breathlessly into the kiss. Logan doesn’t need much more coaxing before his hips stutter. He groans above you, reaching his hands above your head to support himself on the wall as he reaches the peak of his orgasm. You jump slightly at the sound of his claws retracting and stabbing into your drywall, then he unloads inside of you, releasing hot ropes of his seed with a throaty moan. His lips are barely on yours at this point as you try your hardest to maintain the kiss. He slumps over you, his back rising and falling quickly as he comes down from his orgasm. You close your eyes, feeling blissful, your pussy the perfect kind of sore. Logan trails gentle kisses up the length of your neck, peppering them along your jaw before capturing your lips with his. Pulling away, you smile at him, swiping wet hair from his forehead as he returns the smile.

“Dunno about you, princess, but I could go for another round,” he remarks, to which you laugh in response thinking he’s joking. Then suddenly you feel his dick twitch inside of you and realize he’s still hard. You huff in exhaustion, almost blushing. God, you could fuck longer, but you have nothing left in you.

“Logan, I don’t think I got much more in me,” you sigh in defeat, causing Logan to let out a soft hum in thought. He plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Mm, d’you…want it…again?” He murmurs between kisses, the gravel in his voice making you clench involuntarily.

“I do,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a second wind of arousal swirling inside of you. Logan slides out of you, eliciting a groan from him and a quiet whine from you.

“On your stomach,” he directs, on his knees above you now. You oblige, rolling over, arching your back slightly to allow Logan easier access to your pussy. You settle into this position—a lazy doggy-style. Logan lines himself up yet again, sinking into you with a rough groan as his hands plant on your hips. He uses your body as leverage to begin thrusting in and out of you, causing you to moan throatily at the way his dick perfectly hits all the right spots. Every ridge, every spongy part inside of you, Logan glides over expertly. Mewling and moaning in pleasure, each thrust of his hips hitting you perfectly. You’re in heaven, so relaxed, feeling so euphoric as he stretches your pussy and fills you. His hands squeeze at your hips, occasionally gliding down to your ass to give it a good squeeze.

“God, how are you tighter?” Logan groans, his thrusts hard yet languid with each roll of his hips. “Pussy so good—so, so good for me, baby.”

You don’t say anything in response—you can’t, you’re reduced to a puddle of moans and groans of pleasure beneath him. Complete putty in his hands that he can do what he pleases with. You don’t know how you’re still even conscious, exhaustion seeps into every pore of your body, but pleasure is keeping your blood flowing and your heart racing. Your clit throbs between your legs, you attempt to squeeze your thighs together to alleviate the pressure, causing Logan to moan above you as you clench.

“Keep doin’ that, princess, I just might come again,” Logan husks. You sneak a flirty glance from over your shoulder and clench your thighs together yet again, Logan clearly struggling to remain upright. Logan’s pace quickens, his thrusts snappier and more desperate. You squeeze again, and again, gyrating your ass gently each time. And that’s all it takes for him, hands flying from your waist, claws unsheathing and stabbing into your mattress as Logan rides out his second orgasm. Growling and moaning as he unloads his hot seed into you yet again. He sits there for a minute, dick twitching inside of you, claws embedded into your mattress, sweat sticking to his heaving chest. Quickly, his strength regains, and his breathing slows. He pulls out of you, still hard, slumping beside your exhausted body. You roll over, wrapping yourself around him, nuzzling into his chest. You can hear his heartbeat beneath your ear, your hand coming to play with the silver tags that lay on his chest.

There’s so much you don’t know—so much you want to know. But Logan feels so peaceful, this is so peaceful. His arms wrapped around you, his breath steady. He knows who you are, and he quite possibly might be the only person to ever understand you this innately. And, for the first time in your life, you’re excited for someone to see you for who you truly are.

...

(A/N): AHHHHHHHH!!! i'm so happy i got to write this chapter. this slow burn could've been slower but im impatient. the smut took me literal days to write, but im so happy with how it turned out!! i hope you guys are happy with the way i let it all play out, i hope no one feels it was too rushed or that some things don't make sense. there are plenty of things from logan's side that will become fleshed out later on. but if some things dont make sense feel free to ask questions in the comments and i will answer (so long as it doesn't spoil things for future chapters teehee). thank you always for the support, i read every single comment and it really keeps me going🫶🏻

to view on ao3 click here

tags: @wolviesgirl @sanemis-piss @fictionalmen-dilflover @e-nonsense

[daytaker]

Hello, it is I, Family Anon, the anon who requested headcaons about MC’s family reacting to the brothers showing up and I have yet another request for ye, May we get some headcaons for Papa MC showing the brothers MC’s childhood photos? Them as a cute chubby baby, scribbling all over walls, getting braces (I saw a headcaon that was about them freaking out at the concept of braces and I just thought it was hilarious ), playing sports, their date for prom, and finally highschool graduation pics, Mama MC still doesn’t like any of them and is glaring at her husband for letting his guard down while MC is just rotting into the couch in embarrassment lol.

[ Related: "Mom, Dad, meet seven of my boyfriends" | "Mom, Dad, these are my other four boyfriends and my son" ]

"Mom, Dad, please stop showing my seven boyfriends pictures of me in the bath."

...is what you would have said if Dad hadn't already moved on from that picture to one of you with your face covered in Spaghettio's. Your dad is sitting on the couch between the twins, the five older brothers all huddled behind them as he flips through a photo album. It's only been a few days since he met the brothers, and while he was openly hostile towards them at first, he's quickly come to appreciate the fantastic sounding board they are for his ramblings on his beloved child. They're engaged, curious, and they ask all the right questions.

"Maybe we were too judgmental about that cult," your dad said to your mom the other day as you rubbed your temples. You've given up saying that there was no cult. You hardly even believe yourself anymore.

Mom has been glaring at Dad since he took out the family album he'd brought with him, but it had done her about as much good as glaring at him had done me.

Now, for a trip down memory lane...

You as a Newborn Baby

You, freshly out of the womb, with a red face contorted into an ugly sob.

"What's that?" Beel asks as he squints at the photo of the squirming infant that barely resembled a human.

"That's a baby, Beel," mumbles Lucifer.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing is wrong with it. Babies are just ugly when they first come out," Belphie explains.

"MC wasn't ugly when they first came out," Beel argues with a frown.

"Beel," Levi sighs. "That is MC."

"....Oh."

You with your Baby Sister

You're almost two and you're leaning over your mother as she holds your newborn baby sister.

"What is happening here?" Satan asks, perplexed. "There are two infants."

"Sure are," Dad says proudly. "That's MC, and that there is their little sister. You met her, didn't you, Derek?"

Satan says nothing, but still somehow manages to sound moody.

"She's our wildchild. Or, she was. Turns out MC has a bit of a crazy streak too. Isn't that right, MC?"

You say nothing. You're a little moody yourself.

You Crying on a Pony

You're about two years old at some autumn festival, your face frozen forever in a pitiful shriek of terror while you sit on the back of a docile pony while your dad walks beside you.

"Did that animal make you cry?" asks Belphie.

"As you can see from the evidence in this photograph, yes."

Belphie mutters something under his breath about making it suffer.

"That's from over 20 years ago. It's probably dead by now."

"Good."

"Belphie!"

You Taking a Bath

You're about three years old, and you and your sister are in the bathtub, naked as the day you were born, playing with bath toys.

"Humans have rubber duckies?" asks Levi.

"Humans?" Your dad gives him a funny look.

"Haha! Oh, Levi. He meant *Americans*. Sure we do, Levi!"

"It's strange that they let you take photos of them in the bath. I don't think they'd let someone do that anymore," Asmo sighs sadly. "MC, where did your sense of playfulness go?"

Trying to explain to these people that small human children are fundamentally unlike human adults is like talking to an especially inflexible brick wall.

You Dressed for Winter

You're standing in a thick coat, scarf, hat, mittens, snow pants, and snow boots. Your arms are practically stuck in the air at your sides.

This seems excessive, comments Lucifer.

Winters can get pretty cold in this part of the country, your dad explains.

Nonetheless, this seems excessive.

This was entirely normal outerwear for a six-year-old child going outside in the snow in January.

Nevertheless, Lucifer says, it seems excessive.

You remind Lucifer about the booties and doggy jacket he dresses Cerberus in when it snows in the Devildom and he stops making such judgmental statements about your parents.

You with Braces

It's a school photo. You're about thirteen. years old, and you're sporting braces. It's a painful memory.

"What happened to your mouth? Asmo gasps in alarm. "Who did that to your teeth?!"

Those are braces, Dad tells him.

"Braces?"

They straighten out your teeth bit by bit over the course of a long stretch of time.

And who did this to Asmo's precious MC?

The orthodontist, your Dad tries to explain, but Asmo is so disgusted he can barely stand to look at the picture.

You and your Prom Date

You're about seventeen, standing beside a boy around the same age, smiling into the camera. You're both dressed in formalwear and you both look vaguely uncomfortable.

"Hey, why's that kid lookin' so cozy with MC?" Mammon narrows his eyes at the photo album.

"That's Sam Jorgenson. Hey MC, you remember Sam Jorgenson?" your dad asks you.

Yes, you remember Sam Jorgenson, your on-again off-again high school boyfriend. You were always breaking up because of some stupid thing or another, and you were always getting back together over even stupider stuff.

"Why's he holdin' onto you like that?" Mammon asks accusatorially.

"Why are you looking at me like that? That's probably from my senior prom." You aren't looking at the photo, but you can guess which picture it is. "He was my date."

Mammon looks kind of devastated. Like he had expected to be the first guy to ever be your date to anything.

"Listen, Mammon, you're my first lots-of-stuff, but I had a life before I came to...um. Virginia. I wasn't saving myself for some hypothetical... 'backpacker' during my teenage years."

Mammon seems to feel like he barely knows you anymore.

You tell him that's just too damn bad, but Sam Jorgenson had a PS4 and beautiful blue eyes so you're not really that sorry.

[nerdlingmerchling]

Jesper yawned and stretched his back. “Where's our offspring?”

“He's with Dierdre in the game room,” Wylan explained, scribbling down a new number on the ledger. “They're doing puzzles.”

Heading for the door, Jesper tucked his shirt back in his trousers and buttoned his waistcoat. “I'm going to bring him his evening snack, and then, it's going be bedtime chaos.” He held his hands up, as if imploring a higher power. “Ghezen, give me strength!”

Wylan gave a compassionate tilt of his head. “You're drained, huh?”

“Yes. And yet, I'm still looking forward to seeing that little troublemaking face.”

“You're a good dad, Jes,” Wylan said with a smile.

Jesper huffed. “Tell me that in an hour and a half, when I'll be on the verge of losing my last shred of patience over the endless cycle between asking for water and asking to go have a pee.”

Wylan was chuckling to himself as Jesper left the room. He dove back into his paperwork, completing half a page.

When Jesper showed up again, some twenty minutes later, he was carrying a porcelain plate with four cookies on it. “Milo’s no son of mine,” he declared, putting the plate down on Wylan's desk. “He ate all of the oatmeal and raisin cookies and left the chocolate chips. How on earth can he prefer these monstrosities over chocolate?”

Wylan reached for one of the leftover cookies and took a bite. Raisins or chocolate, he would have taken anything at that point. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch, and his grumbling stomach was a stark reminder of that. “Oh trust me, he's your child. Getting him dressed in the morning takes forever,” Wylan retorted. “He tried three different outfits this morning before he settled for the red one, saying that it ‘brings out his complexion’. "

A proud grin spread on Jesper's lips. “Ah! He's learning from the best! Can't disinherit him now, I suppose.” He snatched two cookies from the plate and went back to the armchair. “By the way, he’s changed his mind about his birthday present.”

“He doesn't want the rocking horse anymore?”

“Nope! He says he wants a ship; a real pirate ship, ‘like Auntie Inej’s’. ”

Wylan reached for another cookie. “That’s kind of a big and expensive present for a six-year-old.”

“That’s exactly what I said to him,” Jesper exclaimed, pointing his finger at Wylan in agreement. “And do you know what your son replied?”

“Enlighten me.”

“He said: ‘But, Dada, we’re rich!’ ”

“Well, he has a point,” Wylan deadpanned, biting back a laugh.

...

Nature and Nurture -- a Wesper!Parents fic

[imdoingaokay]

Romanced!DAI Companions and Advisors (+ Platonic!Vivienne) when The Inquisitor returns to Skyhold late

(A/N: Heyyyy guys... I've missed you :) This past few months have been awful for me... but I'm back... teeheehee

I think this is gonna be really niche so I feel a need to explain what I was thinking??? Basically, The Inquisitor has been on a mission for a while now and they're returning extremely late at night.

Apologies for the inaccurate lore stuff, I don't think hours exist in Dragon Age because they don't have clocks? Or they do??? I dunno man I got a final tomorrow and I don't know if I'm gonna pass

Just know that the whole reason I got inspired for this was because it was late and I was imagining Vivienne watching The Inquisitor come back and her wrapping her robe around her waist like a mom watching their grown child come home from a rave or something

Once again, no beta we die like men

And happy late dragon age day, love y'all)

TW: Mentions of death

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Unable to sleep. He’s waiting, whittling at the griffon he keeps. He doesn’t want to sleep anways, who will greet his lover? The wind? No. He’ll stay up, just for a few minutes longer, he tells himself… But soon he finds himself whittling into the early hours of the morning. That’s when there’s a stir of the guards, the whispers, and alerts are quiet, as to not wake up the many souls sleeping, but the message is clear.

His love has returned. And he will wait by the gate, a grin on his face and sleepiness in his eyes. He greedily hopes his lover may wish to sleep a few hours before the rest of Skyhold truly awakens.

Cassandra: She’s in bed, but not sleeping, reading a book. She’s trying to sleep, but her anxieties are getting to her. Somehow, ever since she got the letter saying that her love was returning, she fears even more. Her mind is plagued with images of an assassinated Inquisitor on the way back to her. Maker! Why didn’t that fool just bring her? 

Just as she scoffs, she hears something of a commotion outside. She prays for a moment, the news is good, and she throws on her armor, knowing better than to leave her room without it, and rushes to the gate. This is where her fears are put to rest as she greets her lover, a relieved smile on her face. And it is with this her sleepiness finally settles in. after a quick word, she urges her lover to rest, with or without her. All that matters that they returned.

Cullen Rutherford: He hasn’t slept since his lover left. A few moments where he stares off into space, drifting off before yanking himself back into consciousness. So it feels normal for him as he scribbles away the missives on his desk, being sure to double check each one so he didn’t accidentally write something foolish in his sleep deprived state. Somehow, in this half-dead state of his, he can hear the murmuring of guards outside of his door, and one enters. 

The guard has been ordered to inform Cullen of when they see The Inquisitor, so when they enter, Cullen knows what it’s for. And somehow, the sleepiness Cullen once had disappears, replaced with a drive he always feels when his lover returns. He rushes down the battlement steps, sure to not seem too desperate to his men. And in his excitement, he quickly meets his lover halfway on the bridge. They may be on their horse, but Cullen will happily walk back with them, looking up at them like they hold his whole world in their hands. When his lover gets off their horse, however, that is when he embraces them, a chaste kiss pressed to their cheek. This is when he finally asks them to rest with him, as his exhaustion is coming to bite him in the ass.

Dorian Pavus: Dorian has lied to himself multiple times throughout the night. He lied to himself claiming he didn’t care if he was asleep when his amatus returned from their very dangerous mission. So he lays in his bed for hours, trying to sleep. And when he can’t? He lies to himself, coming up with some excuse as to why his mind will not rest. So he waits in the library, sipping a glass of wine while attempting to read nonchalantly. Of course, he seemingly can’t. So he decides to wait on the battlements, claiming he must need some fresh air. Even though he despises how cold it is that night. 

But, somehow, without meaning to, he notices the small group of people making their way across the bridge. And, without a reason at all, a huge weight is lifted off of Dorian’s shoulders. 

He lets out a sigh and returns to the warmth of the library, happy to wait for his lover to come to him. And when he does, only then does Dorian finally agree to go to sleep. 

Iron Bull: Doesn’t sleep, but this is because he knew his lover was coming back tonight. So he waits patiently in the tavern, a ear out and ready, waiting for murmurs of The Inquisitor’s return. And when he does hear, he happily shoots up from his chair and makes his way to the gate, happy to greet his lover.

Bull was only slightly worried to be away from his lover, he knew they could handle their mission without him, but still, who knows what could happen? But the news that The Inquisitor was coming back? That was enough to settle his nerves. But seeing… and feeling his lover in his arms? That is what truly relaxes him.

Josephine Montilyet: Josephine is the only one who is asleep, she was corralled to his bedroom by Leliana, who told Josephine that she would wake her up when The Inquisitor returned. True to her word, Leliana gently shook awake a sleepy Josephine who, wrapped in a robe, quickly made her way to the empty Great Hall. She situated herself onto Vivienne’s balcony. She happily watched her lover pass the gates a promptly made their way to her, greeting her with a gentle kiss, which Leliana thankfully turned away from. Afterwards she’s happy to lead her lover to bed, as the second the pair’s heads hit the pillow, the pass effortlessly into a dreamless sleep.

Sera: Sera’s mindlessly making arrows, her door is locked, as she grew tired of Cole trying to make his way into the room to encourage Sera to talk about her anxieties surrounding her Inky leaving without her. She doesn’t even know her lover has returned until she hears the door jiggle a bit before her lover’s voice calls, “Sera, I saw the light was on, are you awake?”

This is when Sera happily throws the door open and grabs her Inky and drags them inside her room, into her arms. The two were eventually found the next morning by a messenger, who reported The Inquisitor and Sera were fast asleep in a pile of various blankets and pillows.

Solas: Solas isn’t sleeping much either, somehow he can’t take his mind off of his vhenan. He completely understand why his lover would take another person on their adventure, potentially a different mage than him. But he worries when they’re away! And there’s not much to do in Skyhold when The Inquisitor is gone. Most servants and nobles steer clear from him. He busies himself painting the various frescos in the atrium. He’s just taken a break and decided to walk along the battlements, and that’s of course, when he sees his beloved. He’s happy to walk down the stairs of the battlements and meet his lover at the gate, awaiting them with open arms. He happily leads them away, whether to their bed in their room, where Solas will leave them to rest. Or if they prefer, they can spend a bit of time in the atrium alone, Solas would be happy to hear the stories of his vhenan’s journey. 

Varric Tethras: Varric is rotating between the tavern and The Great Hall. Ever since he first got the letter from his lover, happily informing him of their return, he’s only been more nervous. Like Cassandra, he fears the image of a truly tragic hero, beaten down on the way back to the arms of their lover. 

He thinks he’s been writing too much tragedy when he firsts gets that mental image

Nevertheless, he pushes through the night.

Eventually, he’s sitting at his usual spot near the fire, unhappily grumbling to himself, sounding like a real dwarf. His mind is racing, and he can’t seem to get the thoughts to stop. So, for one last time that evening, he walks out of the hall, preparing to return to the tavern for a drink and a song from Maryden. That’s when he sees his beloved standing by the gate, quietly talking with a solider who leads their horse away. They’ve returned and they’re safe, that’s all he needed to know.

When The Inquisitor finally catches a glimpse of their lover, all they see is a bright grin spread across his face.

Varric is happy to go along with whatever The Inquisitor wants, bed, a drink, a tale by the fire, he’s just relieved they’ve returned.

Vivienne: Vivienne lies to herself. The day that she hears The Inquisitor will be returning that evening, she nods and nonchalantly walks away. Yet she finds herself constantly checking the gate everytime there is movement in that direction. She has no idea why, however. Her friend, whom she doesn’t really call friend, is taking an awful long amount of time to just get back to Skyhold. 

She justifies her musings on The Inquisitor’s safety as rationally as she can. If The Inquisitor dies, Thedas will be lost. If The Inquisitor dies, her position in court may affected. If The Inquisitor dies, she will be sad-

That is what gives her pause. She straightens her back, hands quickly going to her face as if to smooth out her frown that was previously there, and then she turns on her heel and returns to her sofa. She attempts to swallow down her fear the entire day, but as the night swiftly covers Skyhold, she finds herself unable to sleep. The moons is high in the sky when she emerges from her room, robe tightly wrapped around her. She is sure not a single soul will see her in such a… vulnerable state. She quickly makes her way to the balcony again, and stays there for what feels like an entire age. But just as she gets ready to sigh and return to a sleepless night in her bed, she hears a disturbance coming from the gate. That is where she sees The Inquisitor, alive and perhaps wrapped in the arms of lover. And with a sigh of… relief? She quietly returns to her chambers. Never speaking of this again.

[sinning-23]

Can we have a first kiss scenario with bertholdt and whoever else you want, thanks

OF COURSEEE! HERES PT 2 of the my first kiss headcannons!

Ps. Sorry this took so long I had to rewrite a part after it got deleted and it made my UPSETTI

Bertholdt

Your first kiss was in secret. You had been dating the tall and quiet brunette for a while and after dinner in the dinning hall you two had decided to walk for a bit together. He was a hel of a whole lot taller than you so when you did finally kiss he was bent down to meet your lips. He’s quick to have a grip around the back of your neck as the kiss manages to deepen. Times like these the height difference is a nuisance, so he doesn’t hesitate to pull you up a bit more while you stand on your tiptoes.

His face is beet red and you can’t help but laugh.

“Did you want to walk jsut so you could kiss me away from everyone?” You ask, your hand overlapping his, which was still on your neck.

His blush darkens. Guilty

"I-I just dont like the idea of everyone see us do that. I get teased you know." He admits as you chuckle, pressing another kiss to his lips and soon his cheek, and finally all over his face.

Levi

It was an accident. You had only done it out of reflex. Everyone deserved forehead kisses before a good night rest. Thats just like- science (Hanji strongly disagrees that it’s science)

Anyway, yo u had been up finishing paperwork with one another and he had slipped into a nap, his head was rested against his hand and he would sometimes fall forward, startling himself awake. This time however, he hadn’t dropped his head at all, and his breathing had become far deeper.

A smile falls over your lips and you stupidly pressed your lips to the captains temple.

He shoots awake, glaring at you as if you were spontaneously combusting.

“Did you just kiss my forehead l/n?

You are free, trying to find a way to explain yourself without coming across as a complete and utter fool.

"I-I...Captain, I apologize. It was out of habit." You gulp, seeing him furrow his brows a bit before resting his head completely don't he desk.

"Uh-huh. Dismissed l/n."

Erwin

It wasn’t common knowledge that Erwin was a married man, but even though you were somewhat secret, you relished in being his lifelong partner. You first kiss was actually at the wedding.

It was the tiniest ceremony, only some of Erwin’s closest colleagues and friends. He said a few words, the whole scene feeling as if you two eloped more than got married.

PDA wasnt particualart something Erwin favored and given both of your current positions it was wise to keep your relationship hidden, especially when Erwin had plant y targets on his back. The last thing he wanted was for harmt o come to you.

On the day of your 'ceremony' You decided that you should at least be out of uniform and dressed nicely with one of your favorite shirts and pants. Ernwin had done the same and here you were standing in front of one another.

He doesnr speak whwn he slips teh ring onto your finger, he only lingers there, his eyes fxated on the band now secure on your body. Like some form of ownership. it was odd but somewhat comforting? It would have relieved him far more if he had know you'd felt the same that day. whe you slipped the metal loop onto his had in return.

"I suppose this makes me your wife now." You hum, hand creeping up to child his face. He's exhausted, but so are you. Taking a chance eon love in this world was a risk but one he was open to talking with you.

"I suppose so." He responds, his lips pressing to yours in a sweet, and sealing kiss.

Hanji

Hanji was chaotic to say the least, but that was all the more reason to love them. On this particularly hot summer evening, There was much work to be done while they filed the reports from their experiments. You on the other hand simply sat pretty atop the center while they paced back and forth between stored specimens and paper to scribble on.

You'd quite fond of them, sticking around at hours of the night to listen to ramblings about titans and new discoveries. Of course, you hadn't told them that seeing as you were supposed to remain professional and a crush on your superior was far from that. Anyway, Hanji had asked is you seen this super important vial they needed and lo and behold it was behind you.

So, like any sensible person would, you grabbed it and handed it to them with a soft smile.

“AH! I could just kiss you!” Hanji cheers, holding your face before pressing the silliest, most comical kiss to your forehead before strutting out the lab to complete whatever new task was at the forefront of their mind.

Miche

It wasn’t your first kiss…but your last. Apparently there had been a breach in the wall and now you were tasked with evacuating near by villages. Miche, was talked with the obvious titan issue and your stomach dropped to the soles of your feet. You didn’t doubt your husband’s capabilities, no. He was highly skilled, but your intuition was harder ever wrong…and something bad was bound to happen if you two split up right now. Your panicking, hands shaking in the handles of your swords, the situations options limited.

You fight the oncoming panic and move to the roof he was currently standing on. He turns to face you, the look nothing short of confused and slight anger.

“You need to go. Now.” He speaks, more of an order than anything excised god knows if he’s show you jsut how wallet your panicked state effected him, he’s follow you in a heartbeat.

“I won’t say everything will be okay-“

“When you come back everything will be okay.” You explain, voice shaking. It breaks his heart

You can feel your eyes burn, tough he was skilled, you felt as if there was no fighting the feeling of impending doom.

You press your lips to his, your faces melting together like two puzzle pieces. How facial hair is scratching your face but you would have it any other way.

His face is tinted afterwards, and his lips purse as if he wished to say something. It was easy to see what it was so you said it instead.

Love is such a funny and cruel thing in this life

[delulu4dean]

“Five Gum…”

Warnings: idk, cringe outdated pop culture references. Gender neutral terms(just wanting you so you don’t get like confused <3 )

Pairings: Cas X autistic!reader(platonic), Dean x child!reader

Summary: Castiel is hanging out with Dean’s autistic child, and they have a lot in common.

Word Count: 1,278

Your dad, Dean Winchester, is out on a hunting trip with your Uncle Sammy. He left you alone with Castiel. You don’t know what Castiel is to your dad, they say they’re best friends, but the way they look at each other says more.

You didn’t mind being at the bunker with Cas though. Out of everyone, you got along with him the most. You had some sort of mutual understanding that Sam and Dean don’t get. You assumed it’s because Castiel didn’t know much about human interaction, social cues, pop culture references, and you were well, autistic. Your dad has made the joke that you and Castiel tilt your head the same way when you’re confused, and both don’t understand his sarcasm, and how even though your Dean’s kid, you’re a mini-Cas.

“So what are we doing today?” Castiel asks you.

“I know my dad is protective, but you really don’t need to babysit me, I’m 18. I am an adult,” you explain to Castiel.

“That’s not why he leaves me with you, he just doesn’t want you to get lonely.”

You nod, understanding. Today you’re probably going to do what you and Cas always do, exist next to each other while doing your own things. He’ll be reading something, you’ll be drawing something, and occasionally you two will look at each other, and ask how it’s going. It’s always worked that way.

And that is what you do today. You both go to the library together, Castiel picks out a book, you pull out your sketchbook, and you start doing what you learned is called “parallel play.” At least that’s what it’s called in kids, but you figured the term can be applied here too. You start sketching away as Castiel looks at you, narrowing his eyes.

“You wear that jacket all the time, why?” he asks.

“It brings me comfort. You wear that trench coat all the time, even indoors when you don’t need to. Why is that?” you throw the question right back at him.

“I suppose it also brings me some sense of comfort,” he concludes.

You nod, satisfied with his answer, and go back to sketching, as he goes back to his book. The only sounds filling the room are Castiel’s occasional page flipping, and your constant scribbling. This goes on for half an hour, only to be interrupted by your stomach erupting in hunger. Castiel does not say a word, as he gets up and goes to the bunker’s kitchen, and comes back with a prepackaged peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Oh thanks. When did we get these?” you raise an eyebrow.

“I got them the last time I went grocery shopping with your dad. He said you were having trouble eating because the foods we’ve been getting weren’t the right texture, and I remember when I was human I loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, you can never go wrong with them. But I know you sometimes just want ready made food, and when I saw these in the freezer section, I told Dean to get them.”

A smile comes across your face as you open the packaging and take a bite. These prepackaged peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were one of your safe foods, your other one being boxed mac and cheese. You bounce happily as you eat, something you do whenever you’re eating food you really like. And if it’s super good, you’ll kick your feet a little too.

You lick your fingers after you finish your sandwich, and sign “thank you” in ASL, something you do when you don’t feel like talking much. It’s a thing you do with everyone, you’ve taught them basic signs like “yes” or “no” or “please” or “thank you” or “food” or “water” to communicate when you don’t feel like talking.

“No problem,” Cas responds, smiling at you.

You nod and get back to your little activity while Castiel gets back to his. The silence is nice, you get to focus on you sketch, which is a picture of Castiel sitting down in his chair, reading. You occasionally glance up at him, getting the details you need, but you’re not going for realism. You have your own cartoonish art style and you’re drawing Castiel in it. Once you finish, you show him, and a big smile appears on his face as he puts down his book.

“You drew that? That’s me,” he says, and you nod. “I love it.”

You smile and start putting your art supplies away, as he goes back to reading. You clean up your space and put everything back in your room, before returning to Cas. You look over his shoulder at the book he’s reading, trying to not disturb him. He flips through the pages as he reads. But the page flipping and the silence get too much.

“Dicks out for Harambe,” you blurt out, not thinking.

Castiel once again sets his book down, this time not intending to pick it back up, as he looks up at you concerned. You didn’t think before speaking, but being on the internet you hear this phrase a lot. So you said it, and now Castiel is concerned.

“Who is Harambe and why are we exposing ourselves for him,” Castiel asks.

You think for a moment, wanting to answer him, but there’s no way to answer him without sounding stupid and insane. You take a deep breath, giggling a little at the thought of explaining “dicks out for Harambe” to Castiel.

“It’s an internet thing. This gorilla, Harambe, was killed, so we uh, expose ourselves, as you put it, to pay respects to him,” you attempt at an answer but Castiel furrows his eyebrows, getting even more confused.

“How is that paying respect?”

“Well it isn’t… it’s a joke…”

“I thought jokes were supposed to be funny,” he bluntly says.

“It is… to younger people I guess,” you shrug.

“And you said it because…?”

“I said it to fill the silence.”

Cas takes a moment to think, nodding, taking in what you just explained. He then takes his phone out and types away and you look at him, waiting for him to say or do something. He pats the seat next to him and you sit and look at his phone. It’s one of those fruit sensory videos on TikTok that you got Castiel into. Not the baby videos(well they are the baby videos) but the ones to popular music. You and Castiel watched as blueberries and strawberries bounce around the screen to Lincoln Park’s “Numb.”

“Why are we watching this?” you finally ask.

“You seemed like you needed something stimulating to watch or listen to,” Cas answers you.

“That reminds me,” you say, running to your room to grab something quick.

✰✰✰✰✰

Sam and Dean walk into the bunker, and as soon as they see everything, they just look around, confused. The ground is covered in bubble wrap, and the map table is full of Pop-it fidgets. You look up at your uncle and dad, as you and Cas run around barefoot on the bubble wrap, playing with the fidgets.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks.

You look up at him, with an innocent smile on your face.

“Five gum!” you yell at him, throwing a pop-it fidget at him, and he catches it. “Stimulate your senses!”

“I think they are making a joke, because this is a way to stimulate our feeling sense, which is something people on the spectrum often do,” Castiel explains to Dean.

“Yeah, I know what they meant, Cas,” Dean chuckles. “You two have fun while we were gone?”

You and Cas both nod.

✰✰✰✰✰

A/N sorry if this is silly, I’m autistic and Kin cas so I thought it would be fun to do Cas and Dean’s autistic kid. But autism is a spectrum! While this may be how autism is for me, it doesn’t represent everyone with autism :)