#also the part where he was mad at his dad and all his dad could focus on was how that fit into his own projection of how things should go

[corbinite]

watched through steven universe future for the first time almost two weeks ago and I still feel kinda messed up about it

[multishipper-baby]

Thinking about how the whole Deya situation resolved because having the family fight makes me big sad :c

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[sttoru]

‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’

☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!

satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.

ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.

though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.

“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”

you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.

“mama, go! mama go papa.”

satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.

your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.

you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.

however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.

“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”

even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.

“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.

satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.

“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”

your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.

you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.

it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.

your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.

“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.

“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”

you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.

“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.

your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.

he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.

“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”

the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.

“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”

you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.

it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Nerd!Jeonghan becomes the unwitting target of the jocks teasing when his glasses break. But luck is on his side when your dad owns an ophthalmology consultancy. — WARNINGS: Bullying. — Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

You were popular, the kind of popular that had people always surrounding you, especially the athletes from college. Your days were a whirlwind of social interactions and academic commitments. Afternoons were reserved for working at your dad’s ophthalmology consultory, a place where you swapped your lively college persona for a more professional demeanor.

Balancing these two worlds wasn’t easy, but you managed. Mornings were filled with classes and social events, where you were often the center of attention, whether it was at the latest party or simply in the cafeteria. Afternoons, however, were different. The consultory was a place of calm and precision. Here, you were respected not for your popularity, but for your skills and dedication.

You were chatting with the girls from your team, laughing about the latest gossip, when suddenly you heard the jocks—the athletes who were also your friends—heading to the back of the classroom. You glanced over, puzzled, and saw them shaking Jeonghan's shoulder, mocking him about his glasses.

"What happened to your glasses, Jeonghan?" one of them taunted, snickering.

Jeonghan, visibly annoyed, muttered, "You broke them yesterday, remember?" His glasses, you recalled, had been patched together for months, a testament to his reluctance to replace them.

The jocks laughed louder, and your eyes narrowed. You knew you couldn't just stand by and watch. You excused yourself from your friends and walked over to where the commotion was happening.

"Hey, knock it off," you said firmly, stepping between Jeonghan and the jocks. "What's the matter with you guys?"

One of the athletes shrugged, looking a bit taken aback by your intervention. "We're just messing with him, no big deal."

"It's a big deal if you're breaking his stuff," you shot back, glaring at them. 

you began, but before you could finish, Jeonghan had already picked up his things and bolted from the classroom. In his haste, a few papers slipped from his backpack, fluttering to the floor.

You quickly gathered the scattered papers, watching as Jeonghan's figure disappeared down the hallway.

[...]

As you stretched your legs before the match, your focus was interrupted by the sight of Jeonghan passing by. His eyes were squinted as he watched the match, his attention clearly caught by the action on the field. When his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but offer a friendly wave, hoping to brighten his day even just a little. To your surprise, he returned the gesture with a small smile.

However, before you could react further, Jeonghan suddenly stumbled and hit the ground. You widened your eyes in concern, immediately halting your stretching to rush over and help him. It seemed like he had lost his footing or perhaps his vision had been temporarily impaired by the sunlight glinting off the field.

"Are you okay, Jeonghan?" you asked, kneeling down beside him to offer assistance. His smile faltered slightly as he rubbed his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. "I'm fine, just got a bit dizzy," he mumbled, trying to brush off the incident as nothing serious.

With a playful scold in your tone, you quipped, "Your glasses are getting you into trouble again, huh, Jeonghan?"

You couldn't help but add a teasing edge to your voice as you gently chided him. After all, it wasn't the first time his glasses had caused him inconvenience.

Jeonghan chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, seems like they have a mind of their own sometimes," he admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

As your friends called for you to join the game, you flashed Jeonghan a quick farewell before hurrying off to join them.

Though you were eager to join in the fun, your mind couldn't help but linger on Jeonghan's situation.

You made a mental note to check in on him later.

[...]

As Jeonghan entered the classroom, he couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious without his glasses. They had caused him nothing but trouble lately, and he was almost relieved to be without them, despite the blurred vision.

But then, his eyes fell upon a small box resting on his desk, and his curiosity overcame his apprehension. Could this be some sort of prank? Or perhaps a gesture of kindness?

With cautious fingers, Jeonghan lifted the lid of the box, half-expecting it to explode in his face. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of a pair of sleek, brand new glasses nestled within, accompanied by a piece of paper.

His heart skipped a beat as he unfolded the paper, revealing the precise measurements for the glasses—measurements that had slipped from his backpack just the day before. 

Jeonghan's eyes widened in disbelief as he recognized the familiar surname—the same as yours. 

He slid the glasses carefully onto his face, feeling the weight of the frames against his temples, and the world suddenly snapped into focus, after days in blur. As he turned around, his eyes adjusted to the newfound clarity, and the first sharp thing he saw was— you.

[sinofwriting]

Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @boiohboii @topguncultleader

[landorris]

melbourne anymore l oscar piatri x ex!reader

summary; where oscar and yn decide break up but they’re not very good at staying friends. part two

fc; madison beer

warnings; english is not my first language, kinda sad but cute, inspired by “kansas anymore” by role model <3

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourusername

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen and others

yourusername oh f1 you’ve been good to me! thank you to @redbullracing for inviting me for the weekend and congratulations @maxverstappen1 on your win, amazing performance! 🦁🧡🏆

user1 first we don’t hear about yn for months, and then when we hear is f1 related AND about max…… WHAT HAPPEN WITH OSCAR

user2 yall i think they broke up

redbullracing thanks for coming queen! hope to see you again soon! our writing’s on the wall tell us you’ll be back 👀💙💙

yourusername 💙💙💙

user3 that last part is kinda sus

user4 what is yn up to

maxverstappen1 thank you yn!! hope to see you again soon!

yourusername hope to see you again soon to max!

user5 this friendship is amazing

yn’s phone

a month later….

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren and others

oscarpiastri thank you australia for this weekend, felt good to be home! 🇦🇺🦘🐨

user1 yn liking oh man…

user2 the friendship bracelets 💞💞💞

user3 yn is in australia, you think she was there?

user4 great race osc!

yn’s phone, first is the night after the race, second is the morning after

a few weeks later…

f1gossip

liked by user1, user2 and others

f1gossip spotted! oscar piastri walking around the paddock with a new girl! we haven’t seen him with a girl since he broke up with yn, seems like he moved on! we love to see him happy😁😁

user1 im pretty sure that’s norris sister

user2 lando would never let this happen

user3 yeah look at his happy face 😑

landossister that’s me! he was just keeping me company cuz my brother abandoned me, i also happen to have a boyfriend so please confirm everything before you post things like this, thanks!🧡

(ps. do you have any ideia how hard it is to find a photo of this man with lily where he isn’t all smiley and giggling????????? this man is IN love)

yn’s phone

moths later…

yourusername story

replies:

user1 oscar???

user2 who’s the musician guy?��

yourbestfriend FINALLY

yourusername it’s coming out today i can’t belive

yourusername do you think people will like it?

yourusername what if he gets mad

yourbestfriend they’ll like it

yourbestfriend and he’ll be proud just like i am

yourusername i love you

yourbestfriend i love you too

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri and others

yourusername heyy!! so i’ve been working on something for a few months now and i am more than proud to announce that my first album just came out!! i actually loved how this turned out and i hope you do to🫧🫧🫧🪽 melbourne anymore is now ours in all streaming plataforms 🤍🤍

yourbestfriend SO SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU

yourusername I LOVE YOU

user1 i didn’t know you could sing wtf

user2 this is amazing

user3 on repeat

user4 track five omg

user5 this is def about him

user6 mom and dad broke up

user7 a breakup album about oscar was not on my 2024 bingo card

user8 they still in love with each other

user9 superglue is so cute😭😭

user10 OSCAR LIKING😭😭😭😭😭😭

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, mclaren and others

oscarpiastri I dreamt of this day as a little kid back in Australia. A trutly unbelivable feeling. Thank you to everyone who helped me and everyone who belived in me. One down too many more to go 🧡🫧🪽

mclaren SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

landonorris proud of you brother

user1 OMG OSCAR WON

user2 NOT HIM WINNING AFTER THE YN ALBUM

user3 the emoji choice😟 '

user4 yn must be so proud

user5 i wonder if he heard the album

yn’s phone

let me know if you liked it, and in case you did vote here to decide the ending, thank you for reading it!💞🪽🫧💘🐨

[readychilledwine]

Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

General Taglist:

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

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@elle4404

[dcxdpdabbles]

Freelance Inventor Part 2

Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)

"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.

The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .

It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.

It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.

"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.

Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."

Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.

This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.

Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.

He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.

For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.

It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.

"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.

Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.

Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."

Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."

"Yes, Danny"

Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.

"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.

"You don't speak Romani."

"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"

"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.

Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.

Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.

______________________________________________

"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.

Anxious.

It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.

Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.

"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.

Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.

He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.

Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.

Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"

"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.

Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.

"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.

Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.

Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.

Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.

It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.

His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.

He hadn't meant to.

He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.

Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.

He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.

It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.

Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.

Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.

This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.

He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.

Only heard, he was not enough.

So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.

He just needed to respect it.

"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."

Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"

"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."

After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."

He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.

Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.

"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."

"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."

Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.

"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"

"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.

The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.

"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.

Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"

The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.

But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.

Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.

Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.

(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)

No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.

His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?

Bruce being Batman?!

Please.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Tim pulls a fast one on Batman for their mutual benefit. Everybody giggles. Danny goggles.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

(Additional TW: I think this counts as a panic attack ngl)

On the one hand. The room Danny’s in has a killer view of the earth from the moon.

The wall is basically just one big window. Danny is also apparently permitted to mash his face into the glass and ogle the Earth from Space for as long as he wants until the stinky dad, whoever he is, finally emerges from the depths of the building.

Diana’s the only one beside him today. She looks nice—nicer than usual, in her armor and bright clothing rather than soft scrubs and hair net. She can push his chair without getting tired—she could probably fly and carry him too, if she had to, so. Danny’s maybe counting on her liking him if this stinky dad tries to be mean.

So. Diana (nice lady) and Danny (half-dead ghost boy) are quietly seated in a dim, peaceful board room, absorbing the early morning (?) space radiation when the door hisses open across the room.

In the doorway is a long, dark, shadow of a man.

…And the green guy!!

Okay, if the stinky dad man brought a friend to this meeting the same way Diana’s meant to supervise him, Danny feels like he’s been lawyered up for the sake of some kind of court trial. This is not fair. Danny wasn’t able to review his case with his legal representation before this.

Well. Danny fumes. Whatever. His lawyer is Diana, the most powerful living being he’s seen ever in his life, and she can totally kick the green guy’s ass. Hell, Danny could probably kick the green guy’s ass.

...You know. If he wasn’t. Sick.

The stinky dad guy looks a lot like the blob his kid drew him as. That’s kind of neat—his suit is all black with little to no variation, which sort of just washes out the colors Danny might have been able to see if his eyes were still good. He’s very quiet, which is nice, and he’s very not-trying-to-read-Danny’s-mind, which is even better.

The two sit. Danny’s already in a wheelchair, so he just lets Diana wheel him to the table. The lady sits beside him in the spinny office chair.

Hello, the green guy opens with, already toying with the edges of Danny’s aura.

Danny sends back an abundance of ass-kicking emotions.

…Alright then, the green man capitulates, the barest hint of bemusement quickly stifled.

Good. Danny is mean. He’s awake enough to be mad about other people touching his aura from any end of his personal bubble.

But then the green guy…says stuff to the dad guy? And it’s very? Quiet?

Explanations, the green guy says. The image of a sign language translator at a baseball game floats over to him, and—

…Oh. He’s translating. For Danny.

That’s…nice? Nicer than Danny expected, honestly? Most of the time, people are perfectly happy to misinterpret him. It was kind of the way of the world at this point. Getting blamed for stuff, getting accused of stuff…

Man. If they turn out to be indoctrinating him for secret war purposes, at least they’re going all in. Danny might actually. You know. Like it here. A little.

He squirms in his chair, and tries not to look at anyone in particular. Diana—the lady who’s been nice to him—makes as if to straighten his hair for him, and remembers at the last second that he doesn’t like to be touched.

And sure. Danny doesn’t want to be touched. By bad guys.

…But Diana’s been really nice to him, so. Maybe. He scratches at the back of his neck, and ducks his head down—and remembers to use his words. “Yes,” he consents verbally. He can’t make eye contact. But he can…let her. Brush his hair back. A little.

Diana asks something long and complicated—and the green guy presses an image of Wonder Woman asking permission, being kind, being gentle­—up against the edges of Danny’s awareness.

Danny nods at the floor instead of at the lady. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s fine.

And her fingers carefully brush through the front end of his fringe, and Danny. Danny is so normal about it. He doesn’t even cry or anything. Not even in front of his friend’s stinky dad.

And she doesn’t do it like Mom did it. And she doesn’t ruffle his hair like Dad did.

But it’s. Nice. And she doesn’t pull.

…And she doesn’t hit.

Danny eventually leans back into his wheelchair. It’s a little bit embarrassing to be halfway in and halfway out, but. Whatever. The scary-looking-dad with the earsies on his helmet has his own teenager. He should understand what it feels like to get emotionally weird with your teen in a public place. If he doesn’t, well...he wouldn’t be a great dad, then, and his opinion would suck anyway.

Based on what Danny knows about the masked kid, Danny isn’t sure the guy would tolerate a bad dad. The teen seems kinda unhinged.

The man says something, and the green guy presses a number of translated feelings against Danny’s awareness: Greetings. Questions about Danny’s wellbeing. Curiosity, but not demanding.

“…Hello,” Danny says back, and. Waves.

The man waves back. He’s got little claws on his gloves.

…Like a cat? Is it to go with his ears? Danny wonders about the possibilities of the guy being cat themed. It’s possible, presumably.

So…they want to know how Danny’s doing? Danny shrugs, and he glances at Diana, since, you know, she could probably fill them in? She does speak their language. And she’s been here the whole time.

The lady leans in close to him, black hair falling out from behind her ear. “What do you want to say?” she whispers into her ear, hand covering her mouth from their watchers.

Uh. It’s up to…Danny?? Somehow??

Danny winces. “…Good?” he tries, unsure if the word he uses means okay or fine or well. “…Not…hungry?”

“Very good,” Diana agrees, a little louder. She looks proud. Being not hungry must mean a lot to her, then. It means a lot to Danny too—he can remember the sensation of his stomach rubbing against itself, friction pulling raw at his insides as acid ate at him.

It was. Bad.

It was bad.

Danny’s glad he’s not there anymore. Anyway, there’s a guy in the room who reads minds, and Danny doesn’t really want to share that memory with anyone ever; especially someone who could turn it back on him.

The stinky dad says something else, but he uses words too thick and long for Danny to understand. The green guy translates, pure conceptual recall brushing against Danny’s outer aura—Needs? Wants?

…Danny frowns.

Danny looks at Diana, who looks back at him. Wants, needs…? What?

“Do you need aniþing?” Diana whispers to him, which. You know. Mostly makes sense.

Does Danny…need anything? He has medical care, he has food, he has water, he has toys and brain teasers, even…he has people to hang out with, he has people who stretch his legs with him so that he can go back to normal…heck, he doesn’t even have to clean his own waste bag. There’s people who do that for him.

Like. What more could Danny ask for?

Danny shrugs. He just wants to heal up and run away. Maybe…maybe, if Diana is real and not just pretending to like him to keep an eye on him, she’d let him visit her later or something. Danny would do what Dani doe—did. What Dani…did. And he’d just go a bunch of places and come back when he wants to.

But. No. There’s nothing he really needs right now.

The pointy-eared guy and the green guy share a look and a couple quiet words. Danny flares his annoyance into the silence, but all he gets is a silent Apology/Apology, which isn’t answers.

Ugh. Danny leans over the arm of his wheelchair. This is kind of super boring; it’s more boring than it is frustrating, even.

The stinky dad guy says something else, and Danny feels the push and pull of something double ended tugging on the outer edge of his aura. Additional/information, giving/take?

Danny really wishes he’d brought a fidget toy or something. His nerves are ramping up but all he can do is contort his fingers together, feeling the strain in and the joints click as he pushes them together and twists them apart. They want…to ask him questions? No, they’re already asking him questions. They want Danny to…give them questions??

…Danny doesn’t really want to. Still, he probably…should.

“The…space station,” he says, using the wrong word for their big space building but not knowing the better one; “Is this…where…why is it?”

The black-caped dad grumbles something vaguely approving. A tablet pops out of the table—spooky—and the guy starts drawing on it, explaining all the way. The green guy simplifies more of the verbally complicated concepts for Danny as they go.

Anyway. So they’re in space because it’s their…job? Danny thinks? They do…fighting stuff. Which Danny knew. Because he’d seen them on the news.

But it looks like they do a lot of things—they clean up after storms, and chase regular bad guys and super-bad-guys instead of just big ones. And they stop bad aliens from hurting people on Earth.

The green guy shifts from a green-looking, pointy-headed, red-eyed form to a warm, brown, human skin tone. And even. Like. Human clothing.

Danny stares.

…And the guy immediately takes back his natural form, his body physically shifting and morphing, which, fair, but holy crap. He’s living, on Earth. He passes as normal, on Earth. No one snitches on him. No one’s selling him to the government for parts. No one’s trapping him in a cage and not feeding him.

This guy works here, and everyone lets him.

Danny shifts in his chair. He…he wants that. He wants that. He wants to pass as human and not have to worry about…about anyone getting rid of him. He wants to go back to school. He wants to hide, and never ever not ever be found by anyone or anything when he does.

“I want that,” Danny says. There’s no inflection. He feels dead. He is dead, but usually he doesn’t feel it. “What do I do for…that.”

Help/Searching/Finding? the green—alien—questions, but there’s nothing for Danny to find. He knows exactly where everyone he loves is—and unless they’re already fully formed in the ghost zone…

…Well. Danny has forever to wait and see if he’ll see his friends and sister again. Maybe he’ll find them again one day, in a world purely green and glowing.

He shakes his head.

The next question comes…softer. Gentler. The mental push feels more like a breeze than a gale. Friends…Home/family?

The question comes tinged with all sorts of sensations that Danny’s suppressed—warmth, security, happiness, oxytocin, fondness, pride and being the source thereof, warmth and love, love, love—

Danny’s sweating. He can’t stop. His hands are shaking faster than usual—he kicks the brakes off his chair with the heels of his palms, and jerks the wheels back, pulling away from the desk—

He’s halfway across the room before he hears the noise. It’s just. Noise. It’s Diana, carefully shushing the loud heartbeat churning in his ears, hands on his hand, trying not to cage him but trying to keep skin on skin contact. Her hand is on the back of his hand, and on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Diana whispers. Danny’s shaking. His whole body is shaking. “Shhh, sh sh sh. It’s alright, it’s okay.”

It’s not it’s not it’snoit’snotit’sNOT. His sister is dead. His friends are dead. His parents sold his captors the equipment to catch him and they didn’t care if he got hurt doing it and now they’re DEAD. They tore open his hometown down the middle just to catch him, they stole him—they took his dead parent’s things as tools to hurt him—they HURT HIM and there isn’t—he can’t—he can’t—

Something is holding him down, and Danny thrashes. He has arms, but they’re injured—he has legs but he needs a tail and he—and—

He cries into Diana’s arms, sobbing and wailing. It’s a miracle that the building stays together. She holds him tighter, and he cries even harder into her soft under-layers.

He wants to run away. He needs to run away. Someone is holding him, and he can’t even flicker through her the way he wants to; his core is already too strained just from talking.

Danny’s sick. He’s dying. He’s—

“Take a breath,” Diana whispers, calm and sure. She models it for him. Danny gasps in air. “Good. Lete it out slow. As bobbels in a straw.”

He tries to copy her he does and she’ll be so angry if he can’t do it right on the first try but she lets him try, over and over again, until Danny’s able to stop hiccupping and leaking tears and ectoplasm all over her and realize that she’s holding him like a baby. Like. Actually cradling him against his body armor.

…You know what. He’s too tired to even be embarrassed. Screw that. Danny leans all the way over her and goes completely limp. Someone else can deal with his him for a little bit.

She does. Diana just…holds him.

It’s nice. Mom and Dad used to do that for him, when Danny was still…more human, he supposed. More than he is right now.

Something else touches his hand. Danny looks blearily downwards.

The teenager’s dad gets to his knees and takes Danny’s hand—and he doesn’t need the translation to understand.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Danny blinks sleepily. What does his friend’s stinky dad have to be sorry for? He didn’t even do anything to Danny in the first place.

Danny won’t remember, afterwards, being wheeled back to his room for a nap. They must have wheeled him back, though, because the alternative is that Diana tucked him into bed like a baby, and that’s just kind of embarrassing to even think about for too long.

[riki-riks-chick]

HIII im sorry forr requesting this again i just love how u write, can u make another non affectionate niki? where his affectionate gf stops being clingy bc niki is annoyed with it yet he got jealous when he saw his gf pat or hug someone

Cling To Me ┃N.RK

non-affectionate!riki x affectionate!reader

riki gets upset bc yn isn't being clingy like usual and she's giving the other guys attention instead.

cw: fluff! jealous riki, kisses, hugs, riki secretly likes yn's clinginess.

wdct: 858

don't be srry for requesting again bc I'm lowkey obsessed w non-affectionate riks too. the first one was originally js for me but now im obsessed.

═════════════

Third Person POV~

Today you had plans with Riki and his friends, so you got up early, wanting to shower before he got up so you could make sure he had breakfast. He often skips so sometimes you have to semi-force him.

You took a quick shower, wearing some sweats and a loose tank top, and setting your outfit out to put on once you finished getting ready.

You made breakfast, a simple meal consisting of some fluffy pancakes, and some fruit. You also poured two glasses of orange juice, setting the table before heading back to the bed room to wake Riki.

"Riki.. Wake up.." You shake his arm, pushing his hair out of his face as he groaned. "Hm?..." His eyes flutter open as he gazes at you. You chuckle. "Get up... I made breakfast."

He sits up, stretching before getting out of bed and following you to the kitchen.

He mumbles a sleepy thank you before eating, albeit slowly.

"After you're done eating we can leave once we're both ready." You mumble as he nods. "Okay.." There's little conversation as you both finish eating, and Riki offers to do the dishes while you finish getting ready.

Once your hair and makeup is done, you put your planned outfit on which consisted of a pretty top Riki had bought for you and some jeans.

After finishing the dishes, Riki took a shower, spending minimal time getting ready, and once he finished, you both left.

The car ride to the arcade was short, and Riki had tried holding your hand and placing his hand on your thigh through out, but you rejected both actions by ignoring him.

He was confused because of how unlikely that was of you, but he tried to ignore it, not wanting to read too much into it.

When you finally got to the arcade, Riki opened your door for you, and you smiled, giving him a kiss to his cheek as a thank you.

The two of you walked in, immediately spotting Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung who were standing near the prize counter.

"Hey, guys." Jungwon greets as you and Riki walk over. He gives you a hug which you gladly return, making Riki pout. He gets even more upset when Sunghoon and Heeseung hug you too.

Now that he's thinking, you didn't give him a kiss or a hug when you woke him up, which is highly unlike you. And he can't tell if you're mad at him or not because you still made breakfast and you gave him a kiss on the cheek just a few minutes ago. It's all really confusing.

Once the rest of the guys get to the arcade, you all start playing games, and for the most part, you stick to Jay. And it's no surprise to Riki because you and Jay get along well and you call him your dad as a joke since he treats you like a kid and spoils you the same way he spoils everyone else.

But it's clear something is wrong when you guys leave the arcade, heading to a restaurant that you all wanted to eat at, and you don't sit next to Riki.

Not wanting to argue or make a scene, he decides to let it go, but it kills him everytime he glances around the table and he sees you giggling with Sunghoon and Sunoo. For some reason it irks him that he's not the one with your attention.

He finds himself wondering if you ever feel like this, and if it's one of the reasons you're so keen on affection, but he still can't wrap his mind around your reason for avoiding him today.

This bothers him until you get home, and you're both quiet as you change, getting comfy for the night. You're taking off your makeup and doing your skincare, but Riki is already on the bed, a pout set on his lips.

He waits until you finally climb onto the bed to glance at you. "Are you mad at me?..." He asks as you look over at him, confusion settling on to your face.

"No, why?.." You question as he sighs. "You've been ignoring me all day.. And you haven't hugged or kissed me at all, even when you woke me up this morning."

You chuckle at his words. "I didn't think you would care.. Usually you call me clingy when I'm all over you throughout the day." You mumble as he sighs. "That doesn't mean I don't like it... I was suffering all day because I thought you were upset with me. I went all day without a single hug or kiss from you."

You laugh at how pouty and adorable he is, moving to hug him, before pulling back to pepper kisses all over his face and then his lips.

He smiles, deepening the kiss, his large palm cupping your jaw. He eventually pulls away with a smile. "Please don't ignore me again.. I want you to cling to me.."

═════════════

[moonlight-starlight-lady01]

Do you do dark/yandere kenji Sato?

If you do can you make Yandere kenji sato smut.

Where the reader is angry at Kenji bc he does not let them go out so Kenji decided to uh… do something.

(IYKYK)

THANK YOU

FUCK YESSSS.

WARNING: NSFW, SLIGHT CASE OF STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, AND A LOT OF CUSSING, KIDNAPPING.

NOT EDITED AT ALL

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

♡♡♡♡

You were sick of it. Being cooped up in his house for months now.

In the first couple of months, you were stuck in a containment cell(like Emi was in but smaller). Kenji would sit in front of it and talk to you like he knew you personally. Like you were someone he knew for years.

But, you didn't know him...personally. You did know him. But only as "Kenji Sato! The famous baseball player." You went to one of his games, and this is how it pays you off Being kidnapped by some weird.....also hot baseball player.

It would almost be a year. After a month, he would let you out into the rest of the house and make you do weird sentimental things...

Like cuddling, kissing your cheek/forehead, wearing dresses and his big shirts and jacket, and making you sleep with him in his HUGE bed. He was acting like you guys were....like...a couple. And if you declined, he threatened to put you back in the containment cell and wasn't gonna feed you for a week.

There were some good things, though. Like having cable and unlimited food. A warm bed to sleep in. Not to be mean, but you did not have the best place to live like he does. He's rich. You were...poor. now, in the present, you were sitting on the couch watching something on the TV. That was until Kenji came in with a light pastel pink and purple sweater. It was long that it would come mid thigh.

"Y/n."

Kenji said gently. He sat next to you as though something bad happened.

"I want you to put this on."

You looked down at the dress you were wearing. It probably would be better than this thin sundress that was actually really cute.

.

.

.

"Ok..."

You couldn't go somewhere else. You had to change in front of him for some reason. So.... standing up and finally slipping the dress down your body until it hits the floor with a light sound.you also had a pair of a black bra and panties Kenji had made you put on. You slip on the purple sweater with no hesitantation. You sit back down and feel kenji slip his arms around you and pull you close. Until your head lays gently against his hard muscle chest. Was he sniffing your hair? Never mind that. You pulled your arms enough to wrap them around his torso so he felt like you liked it as well. He started speaking...

"Im gonna have to put you back in your containment cell."

Your eyes shot open in an instant after he said that...

You let out a quiet

"Why?"

"Because i have some things to do with my dad and Emi"

You remember Emi. She was such a cute little lizard baby. She would babble and scratch the glass container by you. She was super cute.

"Why do I have to go back in the containment cell?"

You asked, pouting. This was the only way you could get something. Like a fucking child...pouting.

"Because baby, you're not trusted."

He was right. You tried escaping many times. Then mina would catch you. And you'd get punished.

You were tired of this. Why does this guy get to choose what you do. You haven't even seen grass in almost a year. You weren't gonna let this slip.

You smush your cheeks on his neck and say in the most child like manner.

"You can trust me. Mina will know if i escape."

You feel him get hot.

"I-I.....you can't be trusted."

Ok, now you were getting pissed off. You push his hands off you and see his eyes widened seeing you act so mad.

"Why the fuck would i want to stay in a containment cell?! I'm fucking trapped here and i havent even gone outside in fucking YEAR! I haven't seen grass kenji. Litteral grass. YOU expect me to sit in a glass container for a fucking week or so!?"

You saw his eyes darken, and he pushes you in the couch cushion with his fist on your neck. And you started regretting your little outburst.

"SEE THIS IS WHY YOU CANT BE FUCKIN TRUSTED. YOUR A BITCH!"

Kenji said, yelling in your face. Spit flying onto your skin like rain drops.

"IVE TRIED TO MAKE THIS THE BEST ENVIRONMENT BUT YOU JUST KEEP BEING A FUCKING BRAT.....AND-AND IM GONNA TEACH YOU. TEACH YOU A LESSON THAT WILL SHOW YOU TO BE A GOD DAMN GOOD GIRL FOR ONCE!"

You started to sweat with worry. There's no way he would do this.

After some time, he throws you onto the ground and pulls his pants down for his half hard cock to pop out.

He rips off your black pair of panties and pushes up the fluffy sweater that he gave you.

"Fucking brat."

He pushes his pink tip to your entrance and shoves in you witb jo remorse.

"KENj- please stop! I've learned- I've lear-!"

You say tears prickling your eyes. It felt horrible. You felt something tear in you, and it hurt so much.....to much.

He ignored you, please, of mercy and continued his punishment.

He couldn't help himself anymore. He started to kiss you. Ruffly, not gentle and soft, as he did before. Teeth and all.

He grabbed your panties and ripped them. Them grabbed both your arms ruffly and tied them above your head with the ripped fabric.

Grabbing your legs, he moved them to his shoulders for easy access to your pussy.

After a couple of minutes, it started to feel.....good.

Better than good. It felt astounding.

You started moaning and gasping from each thrust into your core.

"F-fuUck"

You moaned. You couldn't help it. It felt so good. That was until Kenji started playing with your clit.

"OH MY GOUD...OH F-fUCK!"

You finally cum, and it felt nice.

After a couple more thrusts Kenji cummed inside you without even worrying about pulling out.

He and you were out of breath.

He and you were sweaty.

He and you finally came.

He and you were finally ONE.

Kenji started breathing heavily. He lay on top of you and started kissing your body.

You didn't want to talk. Not after this. You felt ashamed of yourself for doing this. Why would you enjoy this so much. Hopefully, you are not getting the case of Stockholm syndrome.

Kenji broke the train of thought by talking.

"Mina, get the containment cell ready."

♡♡♡♡

DID YOU GUYS LIKE IT?

I DID LIKE WRITING THIS 🎀

[hhnguyen]

little flower

I have become an actual fanatic ever since this movie came out and brought forth all of my old love for the Avatar world. I’ve seen this movie 5 times and Jake Sully as a dad refuses to leave my brain :’)

♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest Daughter!Reader (PLATONIC ya nasties)

♢ Word count: 1.8k

♢ Genre: Family fluff and feels, protective older sister reader

⌲ Description: You are a protective older sister that will always come to the defense of your siblings, even against your dad. And Jake couldn’t even be mad about it.

M A S T E R L I S T

As parents, there was no such thing as having a favorite child.

Humans knew it.

Na’vi knew it.

Jake knew it too.

But that didn’t stop the fact that he did have moments of favoring you over his other children.

How couldn’t he?

You. His first child was born into his new world. His first sign of a fresh, beautiful start. His firstborn. His first little flower.

Eywa must have thought him worthy enough to bless him with a child that was a scarily accurate mix of both him and Neytiri, although there were moments where Jake swore Tommy’s face had shone through. Like how your eyes would shine up at the prospect of learning something new, something hidden. The inner science nerd in you wanting to find out more.

You were also a fighter. One of the more anticipated young warriors of the Omatikaya clan - whispers of the elders following you with praises of being a worthy daughter of Toruk Makto.

And Jaked hated that word. ‘Worthy.’

None of his children had to be worth anything to be considered his own. They were a result of his and Neytiri’s love, and that was all that mattered to them.

Yet being Toruk Makto had put a heavy burden upon his eldest children without him having a say in it. You made sure to take most of the responsibility of being the oldest, yet a lot also fell to Neteyam being the oldest son. Jake tried his damn best to be a fair dad. An equal dad. But when he had been gifted kids such as Lo’ak, Jake was certain it was Eywa’s way to even the odds of calmness and serenity in their growing family.

You and Neteyam had been the dream babies. Calm and demure, who were easy to handle and feed. Kiri had been a little bit fussier when joining the family, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

But Lo’ak?

Damn, he had been the true nightmare for all parents. He came screaming into the world and was now walking through it with the word ‘troublemaker’ ingrained in his DNA.

And Jake wouldn’t change it for the world.

Although you, his oldest baby girl at now sixteen years old, would always have a special place in his heart no matter how many muttered scoldings he had with himself of not having favorites. You were starting to mature a bit too quickly to his liking, shedding away the last layers of your baby fat and awkward limbs, growing into the beginnings of a beautiful, young Na’vi woman.

You reminded him of Neytiri, just a few years younger and more outspoken, mixed with his crude earth humor and language.

Yeah. His mate had not been happy with that development.

Though he had managed to blame Norm and Max the first time you had accidentally let an f-bomb slip at the age of nine.

And then there were times like now, where his anger was boiling over and coiling together with the fearful worry in his gut after seeing his two idiotic sons on the ground of the raid, and not in the sky, where they were supposed to be.

‘Dad, it was my fault. I should have been more alert of their positions.’

They all knew it wasn’t your fault. But that was what you did. Take the blame with your shoulders high, and face unchanging.

‘Y/N, you-’ your name came out in a slightly agitated growl from Jake, but the relentless gaze in your eyes stopped him from taking it further.

“Just go get patched up - you stay,” the last part had been directed at his youngest son, as Lo’ak swallowed nervously. Although Jake could see you hovering behind the others before deciding to ignore his orders and remain only a few feet away.

Fearless, he thought to himself annoyed, just like your mother. That was the difference between you and your younger brother. Where Lo’ak was a troublemaker and reckless out of sheer curiosity and innocent spontaneous decisions, his stubbornness was not intended. Your stubbornness was the opposite, all willful and directed at him with a purpose that tired him out endlessly.

As he finished up scolding and grounding the stupidity incarnate that was his son, Jake didn’t miss as you walked up to him and shared some low whispers enough to make the frown on Lo’ak ease up slightly, tail giving away his better mood as he went on to tend to the ikrans.

You caught up to your dad easily enough, not saying a word and only accompanying him towards the tent of your grandmother despite the simmering anger still apparent in him.

Your younger brothers didn’t fear him, rather their respect for him was so immensely high that it automatically made them want to earn his approval in every single way, including following his orders like perfect soldiers. Or at least Neteyam did. Lo’ak, although holding that same respect was more prone to follow his own spontaneous choices.

There was a difference between you and them.

You respected your father. Of course, you did. But you also refused to become one of his soldiers because you knew better. You were not afraid to speak up against the mighty voice of Toruk Makto when you could see the faults in his choices, an ability that your mother had as well. That included many moments of unfair scoldings towards your brothers.

But he hadn’t always been this way. Your dad was carefree before the sky people came back to Pandora and declared war on your people. He had been affectionate, patient, and funny, even. You had been old enough to understand that by the return of the humans, Jake Sully had been forced to come back into his past military persona, showcasing a side that none of his children had ever been exposed to before - but were forced to adapt to with war right at their feet.

“Dad-”

“I am sick and tired of you taking the blame every time your siblings do something out of their own making!” His outburst was full of anger and frustration, and although his volume wasn’t loud, they were spat with a harshness that would usually send most people cowering away from the Olo'eyktan.

You, however, stood firm in your place. Chin raised and spine straight, waiting for the harsh breaths of your father to subside before putting in your own two cents.

“As the oldest sibling we expect you to be responsible in your choices, and as a good role model that includes knowing who’s at fault and taking the right responsibility.”

His stare was basically penetrating you. The yellow, intense eyes which were smaller than that of true Na’vi’s turned more intimidating when narrowed.

He was waiting, you realized. For you to soak in his words.

“Can I talk now?” You finally spoke, careful yet not meek.

At the incline of his head, you let your own drop slightly before letting out a sigh.

“I am really sorry, dad, ‘Teyam didn’t do anything wrong, he was just trying to stop him. And Lo’ak just wanted to make you proud, even though it was a stupid way of doing it,” you knew the way to soften his heart as his shoulders got less tense by your words. “I know you want them to take responsibility, but as you said; I’m their older sister. Is it that terrible for me to stand for them? If I can’t protect them from the sky demons directly, the least I can do is shield them a bit when they choose to do stupid things.”

Jake’s heart was constricting, memories of a past life flashing before his eyes followed by his feelings of regret and the old grief wanting to claw its way back out.

It was as if Tommy was speaking directly to him. His brother had always been the more caring sibling when they were young. Acting as the older one, despite being twins. Taking the fall for Jake’s younger self's mistakes and being the meditator despite his own harsh words of not needing help being spat in return as a show of gratitude.

The mighty Toruk Makto didn’t know if he was being punished for his past sins, or rewarded by basically getting Tommy’s personality reincarnated in you.

The anger melted away in seconds as Jake found himself simply staring at his oldest baby girl. You had a gift for softening him up in seconds, different from Tuk’s childish innocence and Kiri’s witty comebacks.

“Come here.”

Without hesitation, you stepped into his open arms and sank into his warm embrace as your dad kissed the top of your head affectionately.

“I take it you're not mad anymore?” You mumbled with a slight smile, as you felt him huff.

“Oh, I am still frustrated, flower. But you made a really good case for yourself, so how can I?”

You realized how long it’s been since your dad had actually hugged you like this. All warm, gentle affection. The last year has been hell on earth for your family, snuffing out most of the moments when the family used to cuddle together at night with laughter and sparkling eyes as your parents told stories of their past before Pandora was ruined by the sky people.

As the oldest, you had easily handed over most of the affectionate moments for Tuk to have, being only a child and needing that contact. You had convinced yourself that you were now old enough to not rely on the hugs and kisses of your parents to get through a harsh day.

You had clearly underestimated the hugs of your dad, as you gripped him tighter around the waist and nuzzled your face closer against his chest - not wanting to let go and return to the rest of the family just yet.

Jake noticed this easily. “You okay there, flower?” he murmured softly, not letting go.

“Yeah…” was your muffled reply. “Just…missed this, I guess.” Although honest, the tips of your ears turned slightly red in embarrassment.

“I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve given my oldest baby some cuddles, huh?”

“Daad,” you couldn’t help but whine, glancing up to see his familiar mischievous smirk from when he used to tease you all the time. “I’m way too old for that.”

His narrowed in a mock glare as you let out a startled squeak as his fingers suddenly tickled your sides as you tried to jump away, but he was quicker in holding you back and continuing his attack, prompting peals of laughter to fall from your lips.

The tickle attack didn’t last long fortunately before he was stepping back with a fond smile and looked you over with his larger hands cupping your face and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“I love you, flower.”

“I love you too, dad.”

Jake didn’t have a favorite child.

But sometimes he couldn’t help but cherish you a little more when it was needed.

Can Jake be my dad pls. 

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 46 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: A run in with a few familiar faces you never wanted to see again threatens to ruin your day at the beach. But Bradley always manages to make you feel safer and happier than you've ever been before. You plan to reward him once you return home, but you don't realize you might be unintentionally ruining a surprise.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, butt stuff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You were in the middle of covering Natasha with sand, making Noah laugh, while Bradley appeared to be talking to Jake. You knew they weren't each other's biggest fans, so you found that a little bit surprising. You also felt uncomfortable every time the memory of Jake's kisses and touches flashed through your mind, and of course those images flooded your system right now. Your cheeks felt warmer, heated by embarrassment as much as by the warm sunlight. He wasn't right for you, but when you glanced at Bradley again, you felt much calmer.

"Heads up!"

You quickly turned and put your hands in front of Noah just in time to save him from being smacked by a volleyball. Glaring against the sunlight, you saw a familiar form rushing toward you, but the closer he got, the more his steps slowed before coming to a stop. Then he said your name.

Noah had already picked up the ball and started toward the volleyball nets with it, so you jumped to your feet and followed him, reaching for his hand as he neared Greyson.

"Hi," your ex boyfriend said as he eyed you with a puzzled expression as you held onto Noah's wrist. 

"Greyson," you replied as Noah reached up to hand him the volleyball. 

"Um, thanks," he replied awkwardly, looking from Noah back up to you as he took the ball. "So.... you're still babysitting?"

His words felt like an unintentional slap in the face. You could barely stand to look at him now after the way he treated you at the fraternity party months ago, but somehow the idea of babysitting for Noah sounded insulting coming from him. And it shouldn't. It really shouldn't.

"No, actually," you replied, pulling Noah a little closer to you. "This is my boyfriend's son." You weren't even sure why you were talking to him right now. You could turn away and go right back to Natasha half buried in the sand and pretend Greyson didn't exist, but Noah was tugging on your hand and looking up at you. 

"Mommy? Who's that?"

Before you could answer or walk away, Greyson made a strangled sound. "He calls you mommy?" Your face scrunched up in annoyance and anger as he added, "Are you dating that old guy? The big dude who broke Ryan's fingers? Because he's probably going to lose his lacrosse scholarship because you got drunk and acted like a bitch." He gestured over his shoulder to where his friends were waiting by the volleyball court.

A feeling you couldn't even identify bubbled up inside you, making you too afraid to speak. Tears stung at your eyes, because you'd been so terrified that night, the memory of it made you shake with rage. And now Greyson was essentially calling you a drunk bitch in front of Noah, adding embarrassment to the mix. And Ryan and Ollie were making their way toward you like they had a score to even.

"Hey," barked out Bradley's voice from behind you, and relief flowed through your veins immediately. His hand came to rest on your lower back, and you didn't even need to look at him to know he had that pissed off expression on his face that he saved for when he was really mad. 

When you turned and looked up at him, he had his aviators set low on his nose, and his brown eyes were flashing with a warning that left you with a chill running through your body. When you looked back at the boys, Ryan was holding his fingers tight in his other hand. That fact that you didn't even know all the details of the night at that party wasn't lost on you. Bradley had saved you, bottom line, and that had really been the start of your relationship with a label attached to it. 

"Relax, man. No need to get aggressive again," Greyson told Bradley as he tried to stand a little taller. 

But Ryan was rolling his shoulders as he said, "You fucked up my hand, asshole."

You looked down at Noah and pulled him even closer, and he looked up at you with wide, scared brown eyes like he could feel the tension around him. Bradley's hand rubbed along your back as he bent to kiss your cheek. "Hey, Princess, why don't you take Noah and finish burying Nat in the sand?" His lips and mustache skimmed your temple, and his voice was so calm, it surprised you.

"Okay," you agreed softly, bending to pick Noah up, knowing that getting him separated from this situation was the most important thing at this point. You tripped along the sand, glancing at Bradley's strong back a few times as you went. Straight in front of you, Nat was brushing sand from her skin as she stood up, and she had Jake and Javy right behind her.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked as you squeezed Noah. 

"Nothing," you replied, your voice tiny and mortified. You wished you'd just stayed home today and played with Noah and Skittles in the backyard instead. 

"Doesn't look like nothing," Jake drawled casually, crossing his arms over his chest. "Looks like Rooster might need a hand."

"He's about to get more than just one," Nat replied as she cracked her knuckles.

--------------------------

Bradley wondered briefly why he couldn't have a single peaceful day. He just wanted to hit the beach, send Noah home with Penny, and then enjoy the night alone with you. But he supposed he could still do all of that with a black eye if necessary. 

"Did you hear me?" the biggest guy asked. "I said you fucked up my hand, asshole."

Bradley shrugged. "I guess you shouldn't have been touching her then."

He scoffed. "Wasn't worth it then, and she's not worth it now."

Bradley couldn't keep the smile from his face as he took a step closer. "I can give you a fucked up face to match it. If you keep running your mouth."

"You really want to go three against one, old man?" Greyson asked, and Bradley shifted his gaze to the rather skinny looking blonde. 

"You look more like one and a half from where I'm standing," Bradley replied. "Now why don't you just apologize to me and leave before you embarrass yourselves."

"Apologize?" asked the littlest one, jaw dropping open. "For what? We didn't even fucking do anything except come to the beach."

"See, that's where you're wrong," Bradley said as he started holding up his fingers one at a time in front of himself. "First of all, you cursed in front of my child. Second, you upset my girlfriend... again. Third, I don't respect the way you mistreat women at parties. And fourth, I don't like looking at you. So apologize and leave."

Bradley watched Greyson's eyes shift to the side, but he didn't need to turn to look. He could tell that he wasn't entirely alone, and he was pretty sure it was Nat there in case needed her. But it wouldn't come to that.

"Well?" Bradley asked, taking his aviators off and tucking them in his pocket before holding his hands out to his sides. "Where's my apology?"

"Let's get out of here," Greyson muttered to the other two, but Bradley took a step closer to them, fingers just itching to make fists.

"That's not how this works," he barked out, and he got to watch the three of them have an entire silent conversation just by looking at each other. Then they all glanced at him and murmured the saddest, most pitiful apologies he'd ever heard.

"Sorry."

Bradley couldn't hold back his laughter after that as he said, "Just get the fuck out of here." He watched them walk awkwardly across the hot sand with the volleyball, occasionally turning back to make sure he wasn't following them. He kept an eye on them until they were in the parking lot and out of sight. 

"What the hell was that?" Nat asked. Jake and Javy were a little ways behind her, and Bradley had to laugh a little harder just thinking about the four of them pounding some kids in their twenties into the sand. 

"I thought you were getting buried?" he asked, slinging his arm over her shoulders, but she just cringed and pushed his arm away.

"You're all sweaty," she complained. "And I was getting buried until I thought I was going to have to jump in there."

"Nah, I had it under control," he promised. You were still holding Noah in your arms and playing with him as Bradley approached. 

"Everything okay?" you asked, closing the distance and tucking your body against his. At least you didn't seem to mind that he was sweaty as you kissed his shoulder and looked up at him.

"Of course, Princess," he replied, taking Noah from you. "They left." Your arms were around his middle immediately, and you kissed Bradley on the lips as if nobody else was there. He let his free hand drift down as far as your lower back for now, and he could tell that you were relaxed again as you let your cheek rest on his chest and looked out toward the parking lot.

"Thanks," you whispered. "I just... wasn't expecting to see them."

"Do not thank me," Bradley replied while Noah started to squirm. "I just want to protect you and make you happy. Just you and Noah. All day long."

"And Skittles," you murmured.

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Obviously. She's my best friend."

"I want to go swimming," Noah whined loudly, wriggling his way out of Bradley's grasp. 

"You don't know how to swim," he reminded Noah as he set him down on the sand and watched him run over to Nat. But now Bradley had two arms full of you, and he wasn't complaining. Especially not when you started kissing his sternum. 

"You make me feel safe," you whispered. "So safe. I love you, Daddy."

---------------------------

You just wanted to go home. Or give Bradley a blowjob. Or have sex on the beach towel under the umbrella next to the picnic cooler that you overpacked with drinks and ants on logs. But instead you were left clinging to him, looking up into his pretty brown eyes and biting your lip. And you knew he knew exactly what you were thinking. The gentle but deliberate twitch of his cock against your belly left you moaning softly. 

"Can we go home?" you asked with a grin.

"Princess," he groaned. "We just got here, Baby. Penny and Mav aren't even here yet, and they're supposed to take Noah home with them for the night."

You kissed his sternum again. "I'll wear my plug for you."

He groaned even louder, his hand cupping your butt and giving you a little squeeze. "You're making me hard."

"I can tell," you informed him, letting your fingers trail down his sides and along his abs as you started to ease yourself away from him. But he pulled you right back.

"Hell, no," he grunted. "You started this. You can just wait it out."

You laughed as you let him snuggle you for a few extra seconds. Natasha was holding Noah's right hand, and you weren't at all surprised to see Javy holding his left. They were at the water's edge, running at the waves and then backing away when they came crashing down to the sand. When you looked up at Bradley again, you whispered, "You need more sunblock. Your nose and cheeks are a little pink."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Probably just blushing because you gave me a fucking boner at the beach. In front of my coworkers."

You pressed your lips together. "Seriously, Daddy. You just tell me when you want to go home, because I'm all about that right now. I'd love to rock your old man world."

This time you spun away from him, leaving him there next to the cooler with a little smirk on his face. You waved to Penny and Maverick as you saw them walking up the beach, and you ran toward Noah near the crashing waves. Penny made her way right to you while Maverick made a beeline for Bradley. 

"Noah!" Penny gushed, getting her shoes wet as she scooped him up and gave him a kiss on his chubby cheek. He laughed at all the attention he was getting from everyone, and a minute later, Maverick and Bradley were running past you out into the cool water and diving through the waves. 

Noah clapped in delight and shouted, "Daddy!" as Bradley resurfaced and waved to him. He looked so good, you had to bite your lip. The shock of seeing Greyson, Ryan and Ollie had worn off, and you were relieved that they hadn't ruined your day. Once again, you were completely taken by the safety you felt when Bradley was nearby. His wet trunks were clinging to him as he ran his hand back through his wet hair and walked through the moving current to get to you.

"I forgot to grab this on my way out before," he said, picking you up in his arms while you screeched. His body was cold now that he was all wet. "This is all mine," he told you as he kissed along your neck and shoulders. "And I like it when it's wet." 

"Don't do it!" you warned, but it was too late as he waded out into the deeper water and dunked himself under with you in his arms. You came up sputtering for air and said, "I'll make you pay for that later."

-----------------------------

"Oh yeah," Bradley grunted as you yanked his swim trunks down in the backyard and dropped to your knees. "I'm really paying for it." 

Noah went home with Penny and Mav late in the afternoon, but Bradley took a few adorable photos of you and Noah napping in the shade on the beach blanket first. One of them was already his new phone wallpaper, something he had to ask you to help him with. He was obsessed with every aspect of being with you. Somehow you managed to do it all without trying. You were a mom to Noah and you were everything to Bradley, even when you were teasing him relenelessly. 

You giggled as you parted your lips and took his throbbing cock as he grew harder for you. You had the place to yourselves for roughly the next twenty four hours, and you weren't wasting any time. Your bikini top was off and the garden hose that Bradley had been using to rinse you both off was in his hand with the water flowing onto the walkway. The sun was dipping low in the sky, cooling things off, and he spent a few seconds looking around to make sure no neighbors were out before tossing the hose aside and letting his hand come to rest at the back of your head.

Eyes half lidded, you looked up at him as you lazily ran your tongue in a little swirling pattern along his cock as he pushed himself deeper. "That's a good girl," he whispered, watching you take every inch of him before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking. Bradley stroked your chin and watched the soft bounce of your tits as he started to fuck your face. You whimpered as tears filled your eyes for him when he hit the back of your throat. "Fucking gorgeous."

You grabbed him by both of his hips, and soon Bradley could feel your saliva dripping down his balls. It was indecent how good you were at this. You had his number from the very first time you went down on him, but he was interested in getting his cum inside your pussy tonight.

The water from the hose was flowing around your knees when he pulled you to your feet. "Daddy," you whined, actively trying to get your mouth back on him which just made him wilder. He was standing in his yard with his cock out, reaching for the hose at the same time he untied your bikini bottoms. And then you were naked and fucking perfect as he rinsed you off a little more, making you gasp as the water met your pussy and then your ass. 

"Get inside," he commanded, and you did exactly as you were told, letting Skittles come bounding out the back door when you opened it. Bradley barely reached down to pet the dog as he followed you inside, leaving the door open wide as he tracked you across the kitchen. Apparently you knew what you wanted as you bent at the waist and leaned down on the kitchen counter, pressed up on your tiptoes. 

Bradley stroked his cock a few times as he said, "You were fucking made for me." Your body was cool and damp, but your pussy was warm, wet and tight. He eased himself inside and thrust up into you nice and hard, making you whine his name as he brought his chest down against your back. "Made for Daddy," he whispered, covering your left hand with his where it rested on the counter next to your cheek and your parted lips. 

He fucked you hard right there where you usually made dinner while he softly kissed your cheek and whispered, "You're Noah's Mommy, and I want to make you a Mommy again."

You nodded as you turned your head a little more to look him in the eye. "Do it," you told him, and he could feel all of the pent up need from the day growing stronger and stronger as he thought about another baby. His hips snapped against your body. He went deeper, pushing himself harder, feeling your walls grabbing him along the way. Bradley kissed your shoulder softly as you panted, taking every rough thrust and deep grind that he gave you. After he got you filled up with his cum, he'd give you anything you wanted. The ring was ready to go, and it was always on his mind now, but he had a plan, and he was going to stick to it.

But he could already picture how it would look on your hand while it rested on your swollen belly. And now you were clenching him hard like you needed this as much as he did, or like you could read his fucking mind. Maybe you could. The word Daddy fell from your lips over and over again, and he was a lost cause. He filled you up, groaning loudly as he fucked his cum deeper hoping it would take. The shell of your ear met his nose as he kissed blindly along your body, inhaling your sweet wildflower scent. And you kept him there, pulling his fingers closer to your mouth and kissing his knuckles, enduring his weight against you.

Eventually he spoke, his voice hoarse now as he started to pull his body up to stand. "The rest of the night is yours, Princess. Anything you want."

You stood too and stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck with a little smile like he hadn't just pounded you against the kitchen counter next to the fancy coffee maker. "I want you to sing to me while we take a shower. And then I think we should further investigate the little collection of goodies you left out on the dresser."

-------------------------

You had your eyes closed with a smile on your lips. The cascading water was hitting your face and chest while Bradley had his arms wrapped around you from behind, singing his favorite song. It was nice that you didn't have to worry about getting Noah in bed or getting dinner ready. Bradley already offered to go pick up some takeout later if that's what you wanted. But right now you were completely content as he washed his dried cum from your thighs with his big, soapy hand. 

"You know what we should do?" he asked softly. When you just hummed in response, he said, "We should plan another vacation."

"To Disneyland."

His deep laughter rumbled against your back. "Sure. Disneyland. Noah will love that."

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you'd probably love it more than the child. "I think a nice little break will be good for you too, Daddy. I'll put it on the credit card."

Bradley's hand slid from the front of your body around to your butt. "If you put it on the card, I'll spank you."

Your moan was loud and echoed around the shower as you spun in his arms. "I have an idea." You kissed his neck and his rough chin as you said, "How about you wear your crown tonight?"

Bradley's smile was handsome and surprised. "My green one?"

"Yes," you whispered, feeling giddy. "The green one we made for you. I'll go into the bedroom and get myself all ready, but I'll leave the crown out for you to wear."  When you stepped out of the tub, Bradley's hand was stroking himself, and his eyes were on you. The need you felt was indescribable as you toweled off, practically tripping on your way out of the bathroom. 

You squealed as you reached for his crown on the dresser and gently set it down on the hallway floor just outside the bedroom, and then you closed the door. Your eyes settled on the items he left lined up on the dresser, and you chewed on your lip a little nervously. The need was so palpable again, you couldn't understand it. You thought about his strong, sure body and the timber of his voice as you dragged the lubed plug back and forth along your hole before slowly pushing it in. 

Being so full made you want Bradley more. You curled up on the bed and tried to get yourself under control so you could have him deep inside you at the same time, but it wasn't easy. You made your hands into fists keep from touching yourself as you moaned softly, but you wanted to see him in his green crown. You wanted to make everything as good for him as it was for you.

The pristine white fabric caught your eye from inside the open closet. With a giggle, you eased yourself out of bed and walked toward his dress whites uniform hanging there, fresh from the dry cleaner. They'd done a great job removing your dark lipstick marks from the pants. You grabbed a lacy thong from the dresser and pulled it up your legs to where you were most sensitive right now, and then you took Bradley's white jacket from the hanger. 

You were just sliding your hands down through the sleeves as you laughed at how comically large it was on you, but you thought he might enjoy himself. You were wearing his Bradshaw nametag which brought heat to your cheeks as you did up a few of the golden buttons. Then you grabbed your phone from the nightstand before heading for the closed bedroom door. 

"Are you there?" you asked, and his immediate response from the other side had you tipping your head back in delight.

"I'm waiting patiently, Princess. I got my crown on."

You started to record a video on your phone, knowing you'd let him do what he wanted with you, because he never did you wrong. Then you opened the door, but your arm brushed something hard and square in his jacket pocket. You ignored it when you saw him standing there with his crooked crown perched on his soft curls and his hard cock resting in one hand. 

Bradley's smile was sweet and just for you, and it only grew when you said, "I'm recording. Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, Baby," he crooned, but as his eyes drifted down your body, they grew wider and almost panicked, and then he was reaching for you.

--------------------------

We are getting closer. Will Daddy's plans pan out or will Princess inadvertently rush things? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 47

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[santrrl]

Logan Howlett with Metalhead!reader, face piercings, tattoos, dark clothes - the whole get up.

i need grumpy x sunshine too, like reader actually being a cute little thing :')

L.H X METAL!HEAD READER

Author says; Thank you so much for your request!! I love doing them,l so this is gonna be the first of a few hopefully !<3 I LOVE this idea, and thus this is gonna be so fun to write !! HEHEHEHEH

The first and second part are split between bullet points, and then the actual story so i hope i got this right!! I'm so sorry if I didn't as i have only seen few x-men and dp+w, so i apologise if it's not good!!

BULLETS :

-Once he meets you at first he physically stops. Like, physically, shuts down for a moment.

-Bro was born in 1832, and somehow, this was his first time seeing so much piercings in so many...visible places. He was fine with ears, as long as it wasn't too bad, but more than three? He's gonna shake his head like a dad and shrug it off.

-At first he would probably think you're some emo, hormonal meanie, so when he finally takes a jab at you, he stops dead AGAIN. You? You wearing layer after layer of black n white are more energetic than he thought? What?

-at some point during your years of knowing each other, of course youre gonna be in his contacts. He never saw ':3' before, but..you learn something new every day.

-The first time he sees so many tats on one limb, he doesn't know whether to be amazed or turned on. So he opted for both.

-"Hey, you okay?" He'd smell the freshness of your new tats, and always find a way to let them be a excuse for him to talk to you.

-You look so....different, so mean, yet, you're so nice? He couldn't understand it. He loved being mean to the people that deserved it, why you felt bad and guilty? Over his head. But the pure fact you looked like a meanie, but weren't? God he wanted to destroy you.

FIC; (Kinda? Im so sorry if its bad, not correlating to the above)

"Welcome to Charles Xavier's school for gifted youngsters. I am Charles, by the way." The man in front of you would grin, opening the doors to the busy entrance. Some students were walking, others chatting and others were showing off their mutations.

"This is where you'll be spending, ah, the majority of your time." Charles grinned, snatching a paper plane out of the air. "Easy, Rodger." He smiled at the boy, who flushed red. As quickly as he turned red, he also turned as white as your eye shadow. And blush. And everything else that you had on that was white currently.

He quickly scurried off, whispering to his friends. "They'll get used to you in time. They think you're cool." Charles chuckled. As you made your way through the tour of the school, you eventually landed back to where you had started. "Any questions?" Charles asked innocently.

"I got one. The fuck Casper the ghost doin' here?" A gruff voice perked up, as I looked behind Charles. The man coming down the stairs practically had a halo on him with the way he had descended the staircase, white wife beater stained from God only knows what.

"Logan." Charles warned. "This is Logan, Logan, this is our newest addition." He introduced. "Keep this one away from magneto, all those piercings." He grimaced. "Oh, my god hi! I've seen so much of you! You're so cool my family adores you so much-"

Logan was confused. He didn't know what to be more confused about, the fact you looked so mean but were sweet, or the fact your rambling went on for eighteen minutes. He wasn't mad about it though. If anything it was...pleasant?

After a few days at the mansion, seeing what you could do, you ironically became quick friends with the rugged man. Even people who had never seen him smile were asking you what it was like. The press had deemed you two - 'Bumblebee team.' Mainly due to your black attire, and his majority yellow view.

And also because it sounded like grumble and hee, implying his grumpy nature and your happy outlook. The media seemed to love you more than hate you however, the nickname ghost, and vampire among others being thrown around, alongside your chosen name.

It only took a few months before the man found himself being more attached. Demanding he be with you on missions, protecting you at all cost, it only took so much in him to not flip you under him when he saw how truly tatted up you were, when after a fight majority of your costume had ripped.

He even went to such lengths as waiting for you every morning to walk you to breakfast, lunch, whatever. "Bub can't the makeup wait?'' He'd sigh, before turning around, already knowing he wasn't winning this fight as your music played in the background, drowning out the sound of a shoe hitting him.

Eventually, he got so fed up of waiting at one point, he just leaned over your desk, and wiped your lips with his thumb, before kissing you and walking away, obviously making you follow. "Just a way to make you hurry up." He'd laugh. LIES.

Those kisses eventually led to heated makeouts, and safe to say, you'd be fixing your makeup more than a few times a day.

IM SO SORRY IF ITS BAD LEMME KNOW AND ILL REWRITE <33

[princessxt]

Hi! Could you do an imagine where dean and sam have a younger sister and she has a nightmare and ends up sleeping between her brothers?

omg, sorry for the delay, I really was lacking creativity!!

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

(Please don't be shy to ask, I'm very happy when I have a request to write)

You can see the list of who I write about here

"The Monster Is Gone"

Pairing(s): Dean/Sam Winchester x Sister Reader

Gender: Angst, fluffy

Warnings: Nightmares, monsters, lots of blood and disturbing writing for more sensitive readers

——————♥︎♥︎——————

My childhood memories were never clear, only blurry images and meaningless phrases wandered through my mind when I tried hard to remember.

A part of me thanks my brain for not allowing me to remember, since I knew the images would be too disturbing for a budding teenager, but when Dad went hunting, disappeared and I had to be under the care of my older brothers during the hunts, everything changed.

I still remember when I had the first memory, it was after a hunt where a student came back from the dead seeking revenge. We were in the car, Dean was driving, and Sam was by his side, in silence while I was in the back seat, still processing the information of the case when the memory came. A blonde woman in pajamas ran through the hallways of a house with a child in her arms, who I soon realized was me.

Over the next few days, I began to dream about it, and as the dreams went on, the images became clearer. One day I realized it was nighttime, and the girl carrying me was wearing red pajamas. Two days later, I realized that the pajamas weren't red, they were white, but they were stained with blood. It was on that day that I started to avoid sleeping as much as possible, afraid of finding out whose blood was on her clothes.

That was 4 months ago, and during that time, each day that passed I saw a little more of that night, and now I knew that the woman was my mother, and the blood on her clothes was my father's, but the worst part was knowing that there was something following me and my mother.

I never told my brothers about this, I know they would be worried, and we have too many things to worry about, like ghosts and demons, and I didn't want to take their minds off work.

We were coming back from a hunt, Dean was driving, Sam was in the passenger seat sleeping, and I was in the back seat, trying my best to avoid falling asleep, but the book I had in my hands to keep me awake wasn't working, and little by little, I rested my head against the window, and fell asleep.

And there I was, crying in my mother's lap while she held me against her chest, with her body against the door, the thing that was chasing us walked calmly through the hallways, and slowly reached behind the door where we were. He knocked once. My mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. He knocked a second time. I could feel my mother's hands shaking. The third knock was so loud that my mother was pushed from the door, detaching me from her body. When we looked back, he was there.

He was tall, had no face, just a blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth. His fingers were long, and his nails were also stained with blood, just like the black suit he was wearing.

My mother, in an attempt to protect me, pushed me against the wall and covered me with her body, making a human shield. I could feel her tears wetting my pink pajamas as I heard her scream.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, PLEASE! SHE'S JUST A CHILD"

In response, he let out a frightening laugh. In a few seconds, he pulled my mother and threw her to the floor, while she tried to fight, but the thing was strong and held her without effort. The next scene was the worst.

He opened his mouth, showing his huge teeth and then immediately struck her neck, making blood gush all over the room.

I watched that scene, cowering and scared in the corner of the room while I screamed, begging him to let my mother go, but that must have made him feel even hungrier for her, since he raised his long arm and struck her belly, cutting her skin with his sharp nails.

At that moment, I looked at my mother, who was staring at me with her lifeless eyes, wet with tears of pain.

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" I heard a voice call out

"Wake up! You need to wake up!" Again, and this time, louder.

At that moment I woke up. Sweaty, with irregular breathing and a dry throat. I looked ahead and saw Dean and Sam looking at me. We were stopped on a dark road.

"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, meanwhile, Sam opens the car door and gets out, opening the back one and getting in, sitting next to me.

"Okay, sure." I answer nervously, trying to compose myself.

"It didn't seem okay while you were screaming," Sam says, handing me a bottle of water, which I gladly accept.

"It was just a dream, I'm fine." I try to convince them, but by their faces, it hadn't worked.

"If it was just a dream, I'm even afraid to know your nightmares," Dean says and starts driving again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam whispers in my ear, and I try to hold back the tears, while I just nod my head in agreement.

"There's a motel a few minutes from here, we'll spend the night there," Dean says and continues down the road.

It doesn't take long until we arrive at the motel. It was a classic roadside motel, but it was enough.

Dean and Sam get a single room for the two of them, and one for me.

I didn't plan on sleeping that night, so when the boys went to their rooms, I grabbed some snacks from a vending machine and went to my room, turning on the TV to a channel that was showing a series, with the intention of distracting myself from the memories.

I manage not to think about my dreams for 2 or 3 hours, but at one point, sleep begins to set in, and little by little my eyes close, but I always realize that I am about to fall asleep, and I wake up with a jolt. I turn off the television and go to the bathroom.

I take off the clothes I was wearing and get in the shower. The hot water hits the tense muscles in my shoulders and relaxes them in a few seconds. I close my eyes and throw my head back, wetting my hair and face. I massage my scalp with the intention of relaxing, but I quickly tense up when I feel a sudden cold, despite the hot water.

I step out of the shower and dry my eyes with my hands, and when I look at the curtain, I can see the shadow of something behind it. Something very similar to the Being from my memories.

With my heart racing and my breathing irregular, I open the curtain in a quick movement, but relax when I find nothing on the other side.

I turn off the shower, still confused and scared by what happened before, and put on some warm pajamas.

I think about lying back down on the bed and watching the series again, but I look at the bedside table and see the spare key to my brothers' room that Sam gave me in case of an emergency.

Without thinking much, I grab the key and go to the next room, unlocking it slowly, not wanting to alarm the boys.

I open the door and close it behind me, when I turn around, I see Sam, still awake, sitting on the couch that was in the room with a book in his hand.

"Hi, did something happen?" He says quietly and puts the book aside, coming to me.

"I'm scared." My eyes fill with tears and I hug him. I feel his big arms holding me tightly, bringing me closer to his chest.

"It's okay, little one. I'm here." He kisses the top of my head as I sob against his soft shirt.

"Come, lie down with us." He pulls away and goes to the bed.

"Dean, go over there." He pokes Dean's shoulder, making him wake up half-dazed and ready to curse his brother, but stops when he sees me crying next to the bed.

Dean pulls away and I lay down next to him, Sam laying down next to me, making me be between the two of them.

"You're safe with us," Dean whispers, going back to sleep.

"You don't have to tell me what you're afraid of, but know that I'm here for you when you're ready to tell me," Sam whispers behind me.

"I'm having dreams. Actually, they're not dreams, they're memories from my childhood, before Dad adopted me. In these memories, a monster or whatever it was killed my father and mother, right in front of me."

"You don't have to be afraid. Dad told us about this story. He came when the monster was on top of your mother and killed it before it had a chance to hurt you. Sleep, and don't worry about your dreams, the monster is gone, it's dead, and your brothers are here to protect you from anything."