#and he's like... why was I born this way?
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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Theo's First Race
Having a child changes Max in a way he never could have predicted.
warnings: none, this is 100% self indulgent fluff. Pairing: max verstappen x podcaster!reader word count: 3.1k words
yourusername posted
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459,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, jennythenanny, and others yourusername texas will always hold a special place in my heart. last year, we learned i was pregnant for the fourth time with what we hoped was our miracle baby. this year we get to bring that miracle baby to the track with us for the very first time. my entire heart is so full watching this all come full circle. i cannot wait to show theo how amazing his daddy is when he gets in that car. maxverstappen1 my two favorite people here this weekend. i can already tell this is going to a good race <3 user0198 i cannot handle the amount of dad max content we get. user111 max carrying Theo kangaroo style in a baby carrier??? sobbing rn >>>user0019 SERIOUSLY jennythenanny ah! so excited to be with you guys this weekend!!! >>>yourusername theo is so excited to be back with his bestie! >>>jennythenanny eeeee! cannot wait! >>>user020 why is this the cutest exchange i've ever read
“Maybe we should leave Theo here with Jenny today instead? Max says, concern settling into the corners of his eyes.
You look over at him, eyebrow raised, from your seat on the floor of the hotel suite. In front of you, five month old Theo is on his tummy staring up at you with his signature gummy little grin. The three of you were in Texas for the US GP, which was supposed to be Theo’s first time in the paddock but apparently, your husband was having second thoughts.
“What? Why?” You ask, confused.
Max had checked the weather (multiple times) this morning and had declared that it wasn’t going to be too hot for Theo to be out and about. The sun was out and there was a gentle breeze whispering through the trees outside your hotel room. Max was leading the championship for the first time this season and he was starting on pole. COTA was historically a really good track for him and you were confident in his chances at winning. Plus, COTA meant a lot to you. It was right here in this very hotel that you had found out you were pregnant with the little elf that was babbling up at you right now.
Max wrings his hands together, casting a worried glance down at his two favorite people in the world. With how dramatic Theo had come into the world so early, Max had found himself being a little extra protective over him. And you for that matter. He had refused to hear any talk about bringing Theo to the track before this weekend and after seeing all of the crowds at the track yesterday for the practice and sprint qualifying, he was having second thoughts
“There were just so many people and I don’t want him to get lost.”
You chuckle before reaching forward to take Theo in your arms. Standing up, you cross the room to where Max stands and hand him his son. Max instinctively reaches out, cuddling Theo to his chest. Watching Max become a dad over the last five and a half months had been one of the most rewarding things you’d ever been privileged to witness. He had slipped into the dad role so effortlessly it had surprised Max, probably due to his own childhood and difficult past with his father. You weren’t surprised though. You had known the moment that Theo was born that Max had been born to be a father. It really was that simple.
“Baby, he can’t walk. He won’t get lost, I promise he’ll never be out of his sling for more than five minutes.��
“No one holds him other than you and Jenny?”
You blow out a breath, unsurprised at how he’s gone into papa bear mode. You had seen it on his face yesterday during sprint qualifying. He had surveyed the paddock crowds with a deeper than usual frown on his face, making comments whenever he heard an errant cough or someone clear their throat. ‘Cesspool of germs’ was a phrase he used more than once, now that you thought you it.
“Yes, my love. He will stay in the sling with me and Jenny no matter what. I have his ear defenders here too and we’ll keep to hospitality. But I know he’d love to see where daddy works. You know how much the sound of those engines sooth him.”
Max pokes a finger into Theo’s chubby cheek, cooing nonsense at him as Theo giggles back. His mind flickered back to one particularly hard night right after you had brought him home from the hospital during the summer break. Theo had been a bit of a colicky baby back then and the hours between 1 and 3 am were often the worst. He would scream and cry for hours, unable to be soothed back to sleep despite all of his needs being met. This night, in particular, was difficult and you had been on hour four of trying to get him to settle. In a desperate attempt to try something, anything that might work, Max had turned on an old race, but just the ambient sounds of one of his wins from YouTube, without any commentators voices. The sounds of the engines revving had instantly calmed Theo down.
Both you and Max had stood there in your apartment, lights dark with the exception of the glow emanating from the tv in front of you, as Theo had stared unblinkingly at the television, tears still puddled in his little neck folds, but totally quiet and enthralled.
Max’s eyes dart over to yours and you smile, reaching out a hand to touch his elbow. “I know you’re nervous, baby but Theo will be fine. He’s going to have so much fun, and I know once you get to the paddock with him in your arms, you will too.”
He sighs, knowing that you’re right. You usually are when it comes to matters involving Theo. “Okay, but first person to cough on him gets banned from the paddock.”
The Miami sprint race had been your first race all those years ago when Max had swept you off your feet that very first weekend he flew you to him so it seemed fitting that Theo’s first trip to a race was also a sprint race weekend. Max parked the sensible but giant Ford Explorer that he had insisted on driving this weekend in his designated spot before hopping out, telling you not to move.
You giggle to yourself, amused that even after all this time, Max still insisted that you never touched a door handle while he was with you. Even on hectic days like these, you and Theo were always in the front of his mind.
When Max opens your door, his hand immediately finds yours as he helps you out of the tall car. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He asks, dropping a kiss onto your forehead before moving to the back seat to get Theo from his carseat.
“I’m so excited to be back, it feels like it’s been forever.”
Which was true. After Theo had been born, he had needed to stay in the NICU for quite a while. Max had nearly missed the race in Spain the weekend after Monaco because he had refused to leave your side. In the end, it had been Daniel that had convinced him that missing Spain would be detrimental to his championship hopes. Max trusted Daniel with his life and knew that his friend, someone who he knew had a good head on his shoulders, wouldn’t give him bad advice. He knew what missing a race would mean to everyone on the team and back at the factory.
He had won the race with a 15 second lead.
Your credentials hang heavy around your neck as you pull the diaper bag out of the back of the car, Theo already nestled securely in Max’s arms. It always made you chuckle, the way Max always seemed to have Theo. You swore whenever he was around, that baby never touched the floor or his crib.
The pressure in your chest squeezes as you watch Max tote his little boy towards the paddock entrance. Both you and Max had made a conscious decision to keep Theo’s face out of your social media, with the exception of very carefully curated images that you and Max tightly controlled so this was the first time Theo would be photographed by anyone but you and Max. You knew the fans, both yours and Max’s, wanted to see Theo and you hoped that bringing him into the paddock despite him being so young was well received and a positive experience.
“Max! Who’ve you got there?” A photographer yells the moment Max scans his badge at the paddock entrance. Several photographers are standing by the gates, waiting on the driver arrivals. Max is dressed in his team kit, of course, and you’ve got your traditional navy blue on, today in the form of a loose maxi dress that would allow you to maneuver while caring for Theo during the race. Even Theo had a Red Bull onesie on with gray shorts pulled on over his chubby little legs.
“The best team mascot in the paddock.” Max jokes, a smile crinkling at the corner of his eyes as he pauses to show off a now giggling Theo.
Your heart catches in your chest when you see the look of pure happiness on your husband’s face. There were few things that brought out a smile that bright on Max and the fact that him showing off your baby to the world was one of those things had your heart hammering in your chest. You watched as Max showed Theo off to several of the photographers and Red Bull staff members, seemingly forgetting all about his hesitations from earlier. Theo loved it too, the sights and smells and sounds were so much for him to take in and he was so content to be in his daddy’s arms just taking it all in.
“Mon petit lion!” A voice rings out as the three of you walk towards Red Bull’s garage. You grin, watching as Charles fusses over Max refusing to give up custody of Theo but eventually relents. “Give me my godson, you heartless man. Keeping the poor little man away from the track for five months! Horrific!”
“He’s a literal infant, Charles.” Max argues, a full on pout popping out of his full bottom lip. You suddenly have to quell the urge to bite it, he looks so handsome.
“Your gorgeous wife told me how much he loves the sound of my Ferrari.” Charles argues back, bouncing Theo up and down, eliciting a peal of giggles tumbling from your baby’s lips.
Max shoots you a glare that has ‘you’re a traitor’ written all over it. All you do is reach up on your toes to peck him on those full lips of his, completely ignoring the annoyed look he still regards you with.
“It was the sound of my Red Bull that calmed him the first time.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Max.” Charles chuckles before handing Theo back to you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m so glad you two are here, the paddock ins’t the same without you.”
“Thank you Charles.” You say, cuddling Theo into your shoulder just a little tighter.
As the three of you continue on, your final destination being the garage so Max can check on the car, your pace is just a bit quicker than Max’s. He watches you for just a moment, the way Theo’s chubby arms wrap tightly around your neck as he takes in the buzzing activity of the paddock. His heart squeezes fiercely at the way your hips sway back and forth as you carry his baby on your hip. This was how it was always meant to be: his wife and his child at his side while he worked. He had always pictured this day in a way that always seemed like it would come sometime in the future. That was the strange thing about how life progressed. Suddenly, some day is here and you’re watching your wife cuddle your miracle baby. When Max thinks of that afternoon in London all those years ago when he made his way into the recording studio to be on some silly little podcast, he had no idea that this was where that interview would lead but here he was, every single one of the fantasies he had dared to hope for right in front of him.
You turn back to Max, sensing that he’s fallen quite a bit behind. The look of awe on your husbands face as he watches you has your heart aching. You knew that the past few months had been hard on Max. He hated being away from you, had even tried to float the idea of retiring mid-season. You had flatly refused, saying that everyone in the factory and the garage was counting on him and eventually, he had agreed. But you knew being here was a balm to his lonely heart and you were wildly happy that Theo was finally old enough to accompany Max on this triple header.
But looking at the way his eyes shined with unshed tears as he stands stock still in the middle of the paddock, just staring after what you know is his entire world, you feel something lock into place. Something that you’re going to have to discuss with him later tonight.
“Come on, Maxie.” You call as you hoist Theo up higher on your hip. “You’ve got a meeting with Horner and I don’t want him yelling at me because you’re late.”
Max seems to snap out of the trance he’s in then and chuckles. “Christian is terrified of you, liefje. He’d never yell.”
You shrug, “I suppose you’re right.”
Max slips his fingers into yours before giving them a squeeze. “Come on, let’s introduce the little lion to the garage.”
Max wins the sprint that day, just like the first sprint you watched him win all those years ago. The nostalgia you felt watching him pull up into that first parc ferme spot had something twisting deep in your stomach. It was so satisfying watching Max do what he loved while you held his little boy in your arms.
It was a whirlwind of media after his win and then he was swept off for race debrief before qualifying for the Grand Prix the next day. By the time Theo’s bedtime rolled around, Max was still busy in engineering meetings. You sent him a quick text telling him you were taking Theo back to the hotel to put him down. Max had wanted to tell you to wait, he’d be right there, but he had known this wasn’t true. He knew that it was going to take several more hours to wrap up all his duties on the track so he reluctantly agreed.
This was the part of racing he hated. The late nights, the long flights to every corner of the world except to where it mattered most, the danger that lurked on the track. He hated being away from you, had always hated being away from you. Despite his reservations about you quitting your job all before you had gotten pregnant with Theo, he was glad that you had spent those few years traveling with him. It wasn’t about the fact that you ‘followed him around’ like some publications liked to taunt. It was the fact that Max was able to do what he loved while providing for his family and keep you close at the same time.
But things had shifted when Theo had been born and his priorities had changed. Having you at the track wasn’t an option anymore, not with how little Theo was. And even now, at 5 months old, he knew that this wasn’t sustainable. The options of what to do after this season all played in his head as he got into the car late that night to head back to the hotel. He knew he had a big decision to make, one that had been many years coming.
It’s dark by the time Max fishes the keycard to the hotel room out of his back pocket. You have a two bedroom suite booked this weekend so he’s not worried about waking Theo, although he still holds out a little hope that he might be awake. It’s been hours since Max has seen him and the only thing worse than being away from you for an extended period of time is being away from both of you.
The door whispers open and Max spots you laying down on the couch, staring blankly at the tv in front of you. On the coffee table sits the baby monitor and a bottle of wine.
When you hear the door snick closed, you pick your head up, blinking sleepily towards the door. “You’re home.” You whisper, sitting up so Max can join you on the couch.
He immediately pulls you into his lap, nuzzling deep into your neck. “I’m home.” He breathes, letting your perfume settle over his senses like a warm, familiar blanket.
“I’m so proud of you. Sprint win and P3 for tomorrow.”
“Thank you, schatje. How was your night? How’s the baby?”
You hum softly, your lips finding Max’s in the dark. They’re warm and inviting and everything that sets your soul on fire. You’re fairly certain that you’ll still feel this way when you’re 90 years old kissing Max late at night. “He’s good. Just finished his last bottle of the night, went down like a champ.”
“That’s my boy. I’m sorry I missed bedtime tonight.”
You pull away so you can look at Max’s clear blue eyes. You’re a little surprised to see a bit of sadness sitting in those baby blues you love so much. “It’s okay baby. He did just fine without you.”
Max frowns before pulling you closer. “And that’s what breaks my heart. I don’t want him to grow up without me.”
You chuckle, “Oh, Max. He’s not going to grow up without you. If you really want, you can do the middle of the night feeding. He’ll be up in a few hours anyway.”
Max nods, he usually did those late night feedings anyway. He loved the way the entire world was hushed and asleep. He felt cocooned in the most calming way and those nights where it was just him and Theo were some of his favorite.
Silence stretches out between you. Your heartbeat matches up with Max’s eventually and your eyes get a little heavy with his warmth pressed up against you. You’d missed this kind of calm presence that Max brought to your life. It was always there, of course, but sometimes it was a little further than you liked during the season. Having him here now was so soothing, making you feel like you could conquer anything that came your way.
After a few quiet moments, Max’s deep voice finally breaks the silence.
“I think I’m done after this season, liefje.”
You’d had this conversation countless times over the years, so much so that the words don't even make your heart race anymore. There’s something different in Max’s voice tonight, though. He sounds tired, worked over, resigned. Like the years spent on the road are finally catching up to him and you know, deep in your chest that it’s time.
“I know, Max.” You whisper, dropping your forehead to his before brushing a kiss against his nose. “Come home to us. Theo and I are ready to have you all to ourselves now.”
And that's exactly what happens.
maxverstappen1 posted
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5,039,504 likes liked by yourusername, redbullracing, f1, and others maxverstappen1 this sport has been part of my life for most of my time here on earth. i started in karting not long after i started walking. motorsport brought me to the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. 7 championships. the love of my life. my child. this sport has brought me to all of the most important milestones of my life. but all good things must come to an end. i've achieved everything i set out to do all those years ago and my priorities have shifted. at the end of may, i became a father and suddenly that pull to retirement got stronger. @/username knows how many times i threatened to quit mid-season so it wasn't a surprise to her when i came to her after texas and told her it was time. after twelve seasons racing in the pinnacle of motorsport, i'm officially announcing my retirement. to my team, thank you. you have forever shaped who i am. to my wife, i love you. you are all the good things in this world and i am so lucky you chose me to be your husband. to my theo, you changed me in a way no one else has. being your dad is the most important job i've ever had. i can't wait to watch you grow into the person you're destined to become. to my fans, thank you. your devotion means the absolute world to me and i would not have made it to where i am today. thank you, from the bottom of my heart. yourusername theo and i are so so proud of you. welcome home, my love. >>>user9292 *sobbing* charlesleclerc congratulations on a lifetime of acheivments. can't wait to see what you do now, my friend!! lando congrats GOAT. excited to finally not be asked 'how does it feel to lose to max verstappen?' EVER AGAIN >>>charlesleclerc now it'll be 'how does it feel to lose to charles???' >>>lando stfu redbullracing we're not crying, you're crying!!! lewishamilton you will be missed, max. enjoy retirement with that gorgeous family of yours!
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#f1#formula 1#max verstappen#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fluff#dad max verstappen#the yapping hour is upon us#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#mv33#mv1#mv1 fic#mv33 fic#mv33 x reader
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measles are one of the most contagious diseases. it's pretty interesting. 90% of the people who come into contact with a measles patients will contract it.
when you think of ways a person is contagious measles is pretty unusual. there's transmission by coughing or sneezing (though air on water droplets from the lungs,) by poop and vomit (water transmission, from eating, drinking, bathing or swimming in contact with the infected,) and by sharing needles, having sex, wound to wound contact and bug bites, (blood born illnesses like Aids and malaria.)
measles is insanely infections because it used skin flakes for transmission. those sores you get from measles are the way it replicates. the itchiness and scratching was a way to get more skin particles in the air for other hosts to inhale. it's one of the reasons why small pox was the first disease chosen for vaccines. it was a skin flake transmission as well and walking within 15ft of someone with it gave you a 9 out of 10 chance of catching it.
measles also leaves children with pockmarked faces, brain damage, (as linus points out,) and death. the last two symptoms are from a swelled brain and once it starts swelling theres nothing effective to stop it.
please vaccinate ON TIME. This isn't a 'cute' childhood illness. AND even if your kid manages to survive, some, if not all, of the 9 out of 10 kids he interacts with won't. it's life ruining... and by ruining i mean ending.
This week-long arc Peanuts arc ran when the measles vaccination was first developed and widely administered in 1967. GoComics republished it as part of their rerun strips late last year, but it could obviously stand to go around again.
Big slow claps to everyone who made a 50-year-old PSA relevant, good job everyone we’re doing GREAT
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I was thinking of a request with one of the hughes brothers (your choice!! I cannot choose between them) x reader who works for the team in some capacity, where reader gets injured by a stray puck or something and their love interest totally outs himself by caring for/being protective over reader.
Obviously only if you think this is interesting!! Love your stuff!
Thank you for requesting! 💖 Hope you will like this as well.
Secrets and Slapshots Being the Devils’ photographer had its perks. You got to stand on the ice, snap the team’s best moments, and—most importantly—spend extra time with Luke Hughes. Not that anyone knew why that mattered. You and Luke had kept your relationship a secret for seven months, a choice born of practicality (dating a player while working for the team? Tricky) and a bigger, messier reason: your older brother, Curtis Lazar. Protective was an understatement. If Curtis found out you were with Luke—the youngest Hughes brother, no less—heads would roll. So you stuck to sneaky glances, stolen moments, and hushed talks behind closed doors.
It worked. Until it didn’t.
You were by the boards during practice, camera raised, framing a shot of Nico roofing a puck when—BAM. A rogue slapshot rocketed toward you, too fast to dodge. Pain exploded in your shoulder, sharp and blinding, the force slamming you back into the boards. You stumbled, vision blurring, a choked gasp escaping as your arm went limp, fingers buzzing with static. Your camera dangled from its strap, barely gripped in your good hand. Nausea surged, and you pressed your palm to your shoulder, trying to breathe through it.
The rink went quiet, then erupted.
“OH SHIT—”
“YO, YOU GOOD?”
Dawson Mercer skated next to you, panic etched on his face. “I didn’t mean to—I swear—”
Before you could respond, a furious shout cut through. “WHO THE HELL HIT HER?”
Your stomach dropped. Luke.
You looked up just in time to see him charging across the ice, stick tossed aside, eyes blazing.
“Ohhh, shit,” Jack muttered nearby. He knew his brother rarely got angry, but when he did, it never ended well.
“Luke, no—”
Too late. Luke’s fist crashed into Dawson’s jaw with a sharp crack, the sound cutting through the air. Dawson’s head jerked to the side, his body stumbling back as his hands flew up on instinct. For a second, he just stood there, blinking, dazed—like his brain hadn’t fully registered the hit yet.
“BRO, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT—”
“YOU HIT HER WITH A PUCK—” Luke’s voice trembled, fists still tight.
“IT WASN’T ON PURPOSE—”
“DOESN’T MATTER—”
Jack, Nico, and Bas lunged, grabbing Luke’s jersey as he strained toward Dawson, wild and unhinged.
“DUDE,” Jack groaned, wrestling him back. “Chill—”
“NO,” Luke snapped, still fighting against his teammates and brother’s hold. “HE HIT MY GIRLFRIEND—”
And then everything stopped.
Your heart slammed into your ribs. Girlfriend. Seven months of secrecy, gone in one furious outburst. You wanted to sink through the ice, but the way Luke stood there—chest heaving, daring anyone to step up—stirred something warm beneath the shock.
Jack’s jaw dropped. “Wait—YOU’RE DATING HER?”
Luke’s face went crimson. “I—uh—” He instantly knew he’d messed up.
Jesper skated closer, laughing hard. “Dude, you just outed yourself.”
“I hate all of you,” Luke muttered, dragging a hand over his face.
Jack smirked at you, eyebrows raised. “Damn, took a puck to the shoulder and you’re dating Luke? Talk about bad decisions.”
You rolled your eyes, pain slicing through as you tried to laugh. “Thanks for the concern.”
Luke was beside you in a flash, hands hovering, unsure where to touch. “Baby,” he said, voice low and thick with guilt. “Does it hurt badly?”
“Yeah,” you gritted out. “Like hell.”
His shoulders tensed, eyes darting to Dawson with barely-leashed anger. “I’m gonna—”
“Luke.” You grabbed his hand with your good one, squeezing weakly. “Accident happens. Breathe.”
But before Luke could get a word out, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
"What the hell is going on?"
Great. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse.
Here came your worst nightmare—your brother, Curtis.
Your stomach sank as he skated over, gaze flicking between you, Luke, and Dawson—still rubbing his jaw, half-guilty, half-amused.
“Someone explain why Hughes punched Mercer,” Curtis demanded, voice edged with steel.
Luke straightened, completely unfazed. “He hit her with a puck. She’s hurt.”
Curtis’ eyes softened briefly as they landed on you, cradling your arm. “You okay?”
“It hurts,” you admitted, wincing, though you forced a smile for your brother.
His jaw ticked. Then he turned to Luke. “So you thought swinging was the move?”
“Yeah,” Luke said, his voice casual but there was something sharp in the way he spoke—like he didn’t quite understand why Curtis was making this harder than it had to be.
Curtis stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he sized up Luke. The anger in his chest flared, but it was something else that was settling in—he knew. He’d pieced it together, the secret clicking into place. He just needed to hear Luke say it. “Why do you care so much, Hughes? What’s she to you?”
“She’s my girlfriend,” Luke said, his tone firm, yet there was an undeniable fierceness behind it as he locked eyes with your brother. “And I love her.”
The tension in the air grew heavy, thick, like the calm before a storm. In the distance, you could hear the guys muttering, probably betting on how long it’d take for things to escalate—whether Luke would end up with at least a bruise or if he’d walk away unscathed.
Curtis blinked, his gaze flicking between you and Luke as the weight of the words sunk in. You held your breath, your heart pounding, bracing yourself for the worst.
Before you could process it, Curtis lunged.
It was all instinct—your body moving faster than your mind. You stepped between them just as Curtis’s hands shot out, the force of his momentum catching you off guard. His palms slammed into your injured shoulder with a sickening crack.
Pain exploded through your body, white-hot and blinding. A sharp cry ripped from your throat as you hit the ice, your arm going completely useless beneath you.
The rink went deadly quiet again.
Luke saw red. Pure, unfiltered rage took over as he shoved Curtis back with a force that sent him stumbling. His voice was raw, furious. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!.”
Curtis froze, his anger melting into something like shock as he looked down at you, crumpled on the ice. “Shit.”
Luke didn’t give him a second to recover. He took another step forward, fists trembling but unwavering, his voice low and lethal. “You wanna take a swing at me? Fine. But don’t you ever, ever touch her again.”
His words rang with a fierce conviction. “I love her, Curtis. Seven months, man. Seven months, and she’s the best thing in my life. I’ve been respectful for her sake—because I get it, you’re her brother, my teammate. But if you hurt her again, I swear to God, I’ll break your fucking hand.”
Curtis stared, his expression flickering between anger, guilt, and something else, something more vulnerable. After a long pause, he let out a slow breath. “It wasn’t on purpose. You know I’d never hurt her like that. I love her too…she’s my sister.” His voice cracked, and his gaze fell to you, still lying on the ice.
Luke didn’t soften. He wasn’t backing down. His fists remained clenched, his chest rising and falling with the force of his words. “I get it, Curtis. You’re protective. But if you hurt her again, I won’t hesitate to make you understand, just how far I’ll go to protect her.”
You tried to push yourself up, desperate to get Luke’s attention, but your shoulder flared with pain, and your vision swam. “Luke—”
His fury vanished under a minute, replaced by panic. He dropped to his knees beside you, hands hovering. “Baby, talk to me.”
Tears stung your eyes as you tried to speak. “It’s... bad.”You attempted to move your hand, but it didn’t respond at all, sending a wave of panic crashing through you.
“Okay, I got you.” He scooped you up, careful but firm, holding you close to his chest. “Team doc. Now.”
As Luke carried you off the ice, Curtis stood frozen, watching in silence. His gaze was hard to read—maybe respect, maybe regret—but something in his eyes shifted, betraying a hint of emotion.
—
The ride home was quiet, just the hum of the car and Luke’s soft “You okay?” whenever you winced. The doctor had strapped your arm into a sling—nasty bruise, minor strain, no fracture—but the ache still gnawed deep. Luke had insisted on driving, knuckles white on the wheel, worry carved into his face.
Now, in your apartment, the adrenaline has faded, leaving you exhausted. You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Luke set down takeout bags he’d grabbed despite your lack of hunger.
“You holding up?” His voice was softer now. His dark green eyes met yours, searching, full of both tenderness and concern.
“Yeah,” you lied, managing a small smile. “I’m just tired. And my shoulder is killing me.”
He stepped closer, wrapping you in a gentle hug. “You should’ve let Curtis hit me.” A half-joke, but guilt shadowed his gaze.
You laughed, then winced as the movement jolted you. “Luke, stop. I’m okay.”
“You’re not,” he said, his voice leaving no room for debate. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable.”
He gently guided you to the couch, his hand warm on your lower back, and carefully eased you down. He fluffed the pillows, draped a blanket over your legs, and made sure you were comfortable. It was Luke, completely unguarded—raw with worry, soft with love—and it wrapped around you in a way that made the pain seem distant.
“Soup,” he said, heading to the kitchen. “You need food before the meds kick in.”
You didn’t argue, and honestly, you didn’t really want to. You weren’t hungry, but the thought of warm soup didn’t sound half bad.
Half an hour later, after a few spoonfuls—Luke holding the bowl because your good hand wasn’t enough—you felt the weight of helplessness settle in. Brushing your teeth, washing your face, taking a shower—things that used to be so simple now felt impossible. A lump caught in your throat.
Luke noticed the shift in your mood. “What’s wrong?” He set the bowl down on the coffee table, leaning in, his concern obvious.
You hesitated, a tired smile flickering across your lips. “I can’t move my arm. At all. I feel gross from practice, but…” You waved vaguely toward the bathroom, a bit embarrassed.
His eyes softened as he caught on. “You need help showering.” It wasn’t a question—just a simple fact.
“Yeah,” you muttered, a small laugh slipping through.
He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “I can help. If you’re okay with it. I just don’t want you to make it worse.”
You couldn’t help but tease. “Yeah, it shouldn’t be weird. We’ve already... you know...” You trailed off, awkwardly trying to convince both yourself and him. Still, the situation felt different—vulnerable, exposed.
He cleared his throat, his blush deepening. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said, offering his hand, clearly trying to hide the discomfort.
The bathroom quickly filled with steam as Luke adjusted the shower to just the right temperature. He stripped off his clothes first, then turned to you, his gaze steady but gentle. You pulled at your hoodie with your good hand, and he stepped in, carefully sliding it off—first your good arm, then easing it over the sling. Next came your shirt, followed by your bra, sweatpants, and panties. His fingers brushed your skin with quiet confidence, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I’ve got you,” he said, guiding you into the shower. The water hit your back, and you sighed, tension easing slightly. He grabbed the showerhead, letting the stream glide over you, avoiding your bad shoulder.
“Too much?” His voice was low, careful.
“No. Feels good.”
He squeezed body wash into his hands, lathering it up, and started at your neck, fingers gentle but sure. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I keep seeing that puck hit you,” he murmured against your hair. “Should’ve been faster.”
“You can’t stop everything,” you said, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “But you’re here now and that’s enough.”
He kissed your temple agin, soft and tender, before his hands moved down your back, the warmth of the water mixing with the steadiness of his touch. His fingers glided over your skin as he worked the soap down your spine. "Turn for me," he whispered, his voice low and soothing, his hands resting lightly on your hips, guiding you with quiet strength.
You turned slowly, your back now facing him, and as you did, you felt his lips brush against the back of your neck, the kiss lingering just a moment longer than usual. His hands were gentle, but there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he moved, as though he was cherishing every inch of you.
“You’re so strong,” he murmured, rinsing you off, his hand gently shielding your eyes as he worked shampoo through your hair. “But let me take care of you, alright? Don’t try to be tough for me. If you need anything, just ask. Okay, princess?”
You relaxed against him, giving him a small nod and a soft smile, the pain fading as his warmth surrounded you.
When he was done, he wrapped you in a towel, pressing a quick kiss to your head. “All clean,” he said, his voice filled with love and gentleness.
He grabbed one of his Devils shirts, the one he’d left in your wardrobe ages ago—loose enough to accommodate the sling—and a pair of your pajama shorts, dressing you with the same careful attention. Once he finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist. Luke hated sleeping with anything on, so he didn't bother with boxers—he preferred to sleep completely bare. And you definitely didn’t mind one bit.
Once you were settled, he walked over to the sink, a playful grin spreading across his face as he held up a toothbrush. “Open,” he said, his voice teasing but soft.
You rolled your eyes but complied, letting him brush your teeth—clumsy but full of enthusiasm. “Sorry,” he chuckled when he accidentally bumped your lip, his hand instinctively steadying you at your hip.
Then came the skincare routine—toner, serum, moisturizer—and Luke looked utterly baffled. He picked up the toner and held it out, squinting at the bottle. “Wait, so you actually need all of this?” he asked, genuinely confused. “But you’re already, like, ridiculously pretty. Why all the extra steps?”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s not just about looking pretty, Luke. It’s about healthy skin and preventing wrinkles.”
He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at his lips. “Well, you'd still look hot with wrinkles, you know.”
You giggled, kicking your legs as you sat on top of the washing machine, where he’d placed you after brushing your teeth. “I don’t know about that,” you teased, enjoying the playful energy between you two.
Luke just shrugged with a grin, clearly unconvinced. But he didn't argue. Instead, he got to work with the precision of someone who had no idea what he was doing but was determined to get it right. He carefully applied each product—toner, serum, moisturizer—treating it like a delicate task, though still clearly puzzled by the whole process.
“Good?” he asked, stepping back with a gentle smile, his eyes searching for yours.
“Perfect,” you murmured, feeling the warmth of his care in every word.
He kissed your forehead softly, taking a deep breath as his fingers grazed your healthy arm. “Bedtime?”
You nodded, already feeling the pull of exhaustion. “Yeah,” you whispered.
He tucked the blanket around you, his movements slow and deliberate as he slid in next to you, propping himself on one elbow, watching you settle against the pillow. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze tender.
“Lukey,” you murmured, half-asleep, “Thank you.”
He smiled softly, his fingers brushing your cheek slowly. “Anything for you. Even if Jack’s never going to let me live this down.”
You smiled, your face relaxing into the comfort of his touch, curling closer to him. “Worth it,” you whispered, feeling the weight of his love wrap around you.
He kissed your knuckles lightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, you are.”
#luke hughes#jack hughes#curtis lazar#lh43#new jersey devils#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes fic#luke hughes fanfic#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes x you#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes x y/n#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfic#nhl imagine#hughes brothers
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Yandere Platonic Twin Brother (a bit of yandere friend in love)
Warning: violence, blood, a broken nose, overprotective brother, a friend in love, a clueless reader but with strong character, This is PLATONIC and a little ROMANTIC but not with the brother.
(By the way, I was going to be inactive this month, but it's quite the opposite, why does inspiration come to me when I have so many things pending😰? I'm juggling the blog and school 💀)
Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★
Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★
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Yandere Twin Brother who was already attached to you from the womb; when your parents went to their appointments with the OB they always saw him by your side even in an ultrasound (that your mother framed) it looks like you are holding his little hands.
Yandere Twin Brother who when he was born (just five minutes before you) cried at the top of his lungs and his cries only calmed down a little when you were born and he heard you cry.
Yandere Twin Brother who shared the same crib with you (although your parents bought one for each of you) when you were babies since he always cried if they separated him from you.
Yandere Twin Brother who comforted you when you cried on the first day at daycare because you missed your parents and you were scared; he hugged you rubbing your back with his little hand and promised you with his pinky that he would always take care of you.
"Don't cry sis! Everything will be okay, I'm with you. I promise I'll scold our parents for doing this to you! Please don't cry..."
Yandere Twin Brother who never let anyone bother you or get close to you at daycare; one day a boy pulled your pigtails making you cry and your upset brother pushed him to the ground and another boy approached your bully and bit him (two teachers had to make him let go)
Yandere Twin Brother who only had one exception to the rule and allowed him to get close to you; that exception was Jamie a boy his age who seemed enchanted with you and became friends with your brother after biting the boy who bothered you.
Yandere Twin Brother who from that day on basically spent all his time with you and Jamie; They were the three musketeers, as you grew up you became even closer (if that was possible) and Jamie's feelings for you became more obvious (to everyone but you) your brother liked to tease Jamie.
"Maybe my sister doesn't like you because of your idiotic face, she has good taste you know?"
"Oh shut up! I'm really handsome and she's just shy, plus we all know you're the ugly one of the group"
"EH?!—"
Yandere Twin Brother who like you and Jamie was quite popular at university; although he was surrounded by girls he never put them above you and always spent time with you; also he and Jamie were howling at your suitors constantly (much to your annoyance)
Yandere Twin Brother who got furious when he saw Jamie flirting with another girl and even kissed her, how could he do this to you?! (it's true that you don't even know that he loves you, but it's still wrong, okay..?) He approached angrily, when Jamie saw him she greeted him only to receive a strong punch in the face.
Yandere Twin Brother who started a fight with Jamie when he recovered from the shock of the blow, both began to punch and hit each other while yelling at each other, some students ran to separate them.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! YOU THINK YOU CAN TELL ME YOU LOVE MY SISTER AND THE NEXT DAY BE WITH A BITCH?!"
"IT WAS JUST A THING! WHAT DO YOU CARE ABOUT IT?! SHE AND I ARE NOTHING YET!"
"YET?! YOU THINK YOU'LL HAVE SOMETHING WITH MY SISTER AFTER THIS?! I'M GOING TO FUCK KILL YOU!"
Yandere Twin Brother who tried to break free to hit him again but they both held him firmly; a teacher arrived and they were both taken to the infirmary, a smile slipped across your brother's bruised lip when the nurse said that Jamie's nose was broken.
Yandere Older Brother who looks at you embarrassed when you enter the infirmary with judging eyes asking you both what happened but you don't answer and you end up asking them if they fought over a girl and they both answer at the same time exalted.
"NO!"
"NO!!!"
Yandere Twin Brother who ends up making up a random excuse for why you two fought and Jamie nods his head agreeing with him; you on the other hand look at them unconvinced before sighing and rolling your eyes; after being treated you both are called to the dean's office and end up being suspended for two weeks.
Yandere Twin Brother who when you leave the office approaches you along with Jamie who tries to joke a little about the situation (to calm the waters with your brother) but your brother ignores him taking you by the arm and leading you towards the exit while Jamie follows them.
"Well, it's not so bad we can spend more time together, right?"
"Shut your mouth Jamie, don't talk to this idiot sister."
"Hey, wait for me, don't leave me!"
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere male#yandere x you#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc x you#yandere platonic#yandere romantic#male yandere#cw: yandere#dark fic#dark!fic#reader insert#reader#female reader#yandere brother#soft yandere#tw yandere#yandere x darling
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begging on my knees, ripping my skin off for shiu kong ANYTHING <3 ily cinna LMAOO
Bullet for my Assassin
Tags: Shiu x fem!Reader, Toji x fem!Reader, mfm, why choose, kidnapping, murder, dead dove, dark romance plot, you're being used for ransom, Toji and Shiu are morally black in this one.
Synopsis: Your dad is a wealthy CEO of Japan, but he hates you because you were born a girl instead of a boy. Toji and Shiu kidnap you and hold you ransom for money. Things ensue???
An: Hiiiii nepo baby, i know you said shiu kong anything. I hope you don’t mind Toji making an appearance. Also, HAPPY (so very late; i'm so sorry.) BIRTHDAY!!! Look, i gotta be honest. I ran out of inspiration for this fic, so I'm posting it, hoping it will revitalize some of that inspiration for a part two. That being said, let me know if I should make a part two.
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Being the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in Japan was actually a death sentence. Since you didn’t have a dick between your legs, you’re obviously less than in the world of business.
Your dad pressured your mom into giving him children to inherit the company, but he didn’t want children. He wanted men to inherit the company. You were just a lowly girl!! How were you supposed to manage a company? Girls clearly didn’t know anything about finance or business. (can you smell my sarcasm)
Ruthless and cold, your father never showed you nor your mother an ounce of love. In fact, he had tried multiple avenues to try and prove that you weren’t his kid. Unfortunately for both of you, you share 23 of your dad’s chromosomes.
His anger was growing worse towards you as you got older and developed your own personality. Everything you did was wrong in his eyes. Even though the company was specifically suppose to go to his kid, your father had been toying with the idea of selling out just so you couldn’t ruin what he had built.
Not that you cared, you thought about how if you were the CEO, you’d burn the company to the ground just to spite his wishes. You’d love to see him turn over in his grave as he watched his baby burn because of his daughter.
You basically lived alone. Your mother had passed a couple of years ago due to strange circumstances, and your father never bothered to come home. There would be no point to socializing with the likes of you.
Your mother’s early death rocked you to your core. For your entire childhood, she was weary and exhausted. Your father directed his anger on her, and she couldn’t help but subconsciously put the blame on you. If only you were a boy.
She did a good job of not showing her true thoughts. She wasn’t a doting or nurturing, but she was there for you. She never raised a hand to you, never raised her voice with you, never called you mean names. That was all you could ask for whenever your dad was so vile towards you. While she wasn’t close with you, she was still your mom, and she was the closest thing to parental guidance that you had. Her death was the beginning of your lonely existence.
The mansion was like a prison for you. Since your dad was so prominent in social media, you had an image to uphold, and he didn’t want you ruining that image. So, he didn’t even give you the chance to interact with anyone outside of the house. The only way for you to escape his claws was to either get married or die, and getting married was impossible when you weren’t allowed to interact with anyone on the outside.
You preferred being alone. The empty quiet feelings was better than the anxiety you got when your father was home. He’d always start yelling at the waitstaff about something so minuscule. He harbored so much anger that the house practically turned sour when he came home.
What was the saying? If you grow up with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house. The thought of marrying someone like your dad made you want to gouge your eyes out with a butter knife. Being alone was the best option.
Besides, the waitstaff was nice. They cared for you… albeit from a distance, but they cared. It was known that you received the worst of your father’s anger, so they empathized with you.
The house was particularly quiet late one evening. It wasn’t the normal quiet that gave you a sense of peace. It was eerily quiet, giving you a sense of dread. The sounds of hushed talking and dishes clattering was the usual background noise in the house from the waitstaff, but there was nothing right now… as if it truly was just you in the house.
The alarms would’ve went off if someone entered. Not to mention there’s security posted around the perimeter… unless your father was the reason that it was so quiet… Surely, it was just him. Maybe he sent the waitstaff home for the day?
You carefully slipped out of bed, pulling a robe on over your silk pajamas. Being a CEO’s daughter wasn’t all bad. You received luxury items in exchange for feeling void of any real human connection and your dad’s hatred!
Briefly taking a moment to wonder if you were being one of those dumb characters from a scary movie, you quickly pushed those thoughts out of your head. Your life was more of a tragedy than a horror movie.
Slowly stepping out of your room, the click of your door latching filled the space, and you held your breath for just a moment. Nothing.
You soundlessly walked down the hall. Since you were on the second floor, there was a landing where you could look over the rails to see the bottom floor.
Nothing. No- is that a foot? Is someone lying on the ground. You leaned farther over the wooden railing to see. You were surely mistaken, right? Who was lying on the floor?
The feeling of a hand pressing down on the back of your head. Fingers entangled with your hair as the unknown man gripped you from behind. His other hand was steady on your hip. You were being dangled over the side of the railing by a stranger.
Immediately, you started to thrash against his hold, panicking as you did so. “Let me go!” You shouted, kicking your feet out from behind you to try to get away from him.
Turning your head as much as his hand would allow, you only caught the glimpse of a scar on the man’s lip. He shot you a grin before pushing your body closer to the edge, almost making you topple right over the railing.
“Yeah, princess? Want me to let you go?” His voice was husky, teasing almost. It had a raspy edge to it that sent shivers up your spine as you were now trying to push back against him to get away from the edge.
Your eyes were looking at the drop, wondering if it was better to just fall than to face whatever this man was going to do you. Somethings were worse than death…
You switched tactics, pulling away from him instead of trying to get away from the rail. You were going to topple right over it. A growl of frustration left his lips as he easily yanked you away from the railing. Your body collided with his brick wall of a warm chest.
Taking a chance to look up at him, you immediately regretted it. The perpetrator had black hair that came over his forehead and pretty green eyes that you could get lost in. His lips seemed to permanently house a cocky smirk, and fuck, he was built.
“You must have a death wish, brat.” He scowled at you as if he wasn’t the one who dangled you so close to the edge.
Not bothering to answer his taunts, you quickly started to fight against him, beating against his chest with your hands, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He was massive. You were sure that none of your blows were doing anything to him.
Without any difficulty, the hulk-sized man slung you over his shoulder, securing an arm around your frame. He didn’t even flinch or bat an eye each time you hit him. Your fists did little to his toned back.
Not able to fight your way out, you use your next best defense tool: your voice. “Let me go!” You shrieked as loud as possible. “Let me go! Somebody help!” Tears coated your eyes, and your voice went hoarse from yelling.
“Let me goo~ Somebody help mee~” The man mocked you in an obscene high-pitched tone with a laugh. He had done his homework. Even if you screamed, no one would be coming to save you right now.
Every staff member in the house was deceased, and thank god your dear old dad is so paranoid that he put his mansion in the literal middle of nowhere. There were no neighbors that’d hear you either.
You were completely and utterly alone with the man who was kidnapping you. A deep sense of dread and hopelessness filled your stomach, and you continued to cry — weakly begging for anyone to help you.
The man toned you out rather easily as he carried you down the massive flight of stairs. He used his free hand to flip open a burner phone, and he dialed a number before talking.
“The security system is still down?” His gruff, no-nonsense voice returned to him as if he wasn’t just making fun of you moments prior.
Even though you knew it was likely one of his associates on the phone, you screamed for help. Hot tears coated your cheeks as your voice strained.
A firm smack to your ass jolted you, and your voice caught in your throat. Did your kidnapper really just spank you for misbehaving?
“The girl isn’t hurt. She’s just being dramatic. I’m heading to the pickup spot.” He didn’t let the person on the other side answer before he clopped the flip phone shut, effectively ending the call.
“Gonna get me in trouble acting like that, girl.” The man tsked his tongue, and he continued to effortlessly carry you around to the back entrance of the house.
You finally caught a glimpse of your poor staff members. Your heart lurched in your chest. They had families and lives. Now, they were dead on your floor because of this man.
The man didn’t say another word as you cried. He kept his one arm firmly wrapped around you as he so casually carried you out of the house. The security system and the guards had already been dealt with.
Soon, you unceremoniously shoved into the back of a black tinted car. You struggled as much as you could, kicking and scratching. You even tried to bite the man as he tied your arms behind your back.
“Keep fighting. I’ll hogtie and gag your ass.” He threatened lowly, becoming sick of this game with you. He never quite understood why people fought so hard against him when he clearly held the upper hand. It was useless.
Letting out a small sob, you laid against the backseat of the car. The leather interior felt cold and ruthless as your tears fell from your eyes.
“Come on, Toji. We don’t have all day.” The driver reprimanded as if the man was simply buckling in a toddler and not kidnapping a grown woman.
You flinched from the sound of the driver’s voice. You had been so focused on fighting against the Toji guy that you didn’t even realize there was another man idly sitting in the front seat, puffing on a cigar.
Toji tied your ankles together, but he didn’t hogtie you thankfully. Without saying another word, he slammed the door shut before getting into the passenger side seat.
You felt your heart drop as the car started to move. You had an inkling… you’d never see that mansion again. You just knew it. Even though you hated the very frame that house sat on, you longed for the empty feeling of sitting inside. You’d take the void of living in a loveless home over being taken by two men.
Your stomach churned, and suddenly, you felt ill as you faced the grave circumstances. Bile raised in your throat, and your hands struggled against the ropes that Toji had bound you with. Panic set in. You were going to choke on your vomit while you laid face down in it.
“There she goes.” Toji muttered, tone laced with annoyance before he reached back and pulled your arm so your mouth was hanging over the back seat. You threw up safely into the floor.
“I just got this car detailed.” The driver groaned as he took another puff from his cigar.
“It happens every time without fail. Ya should start puttin’ puppy pads back there or something.” Toji responded as his arm was still reached back, bracing your body.
“Yeah, because that’s not suspicious at all.” The driver responded with a sarcastic tone. It was clear that this wasn’t their first encounter with kidnapping someone. You didn’t even want to think about the implications of that.
Your adrenaline was dropping off, and while you knew you should try and stay awake — try to map out the turns the car made, you were exhausted after emptying your stomach contents into the floor.
Your head rested against the cool leather seats, and a moment later, you were out.
“It’s like fuckin’ clockwork.” Toji commented as he saw you dozing off in the backseat.
“Let me hogtie you and throw you into the back of a car, and we’ll see if you don’t throw up and pass out.” The driver grinned over at him.
“Kinky.” Was all the man responded with.
*** *** ***
The next time you awoke you were bound to a chair in a surprisingly well-lit room. It appeared to be a bedroom. Judging by the overly bland decor, you assumed this was an Airbnb or a hotel. There was no way they could’ve hauled your sleeping body into a hotel without being noticed, so it was definitely an Airbnb. Taking in your surroundings, you flinched as you finally caught a glimpse of the two men standing in your peripheral. They were silently watching you.
“So nice of you to join us, sleeping beauty.” Toji mocked with an easy grin, the scar on his lip flexing upwards. If he wasn’t your kidnapper, you would’ve classified him to be rather handsome in a very rugged sense. He just looked like the type of man who could get the job done.
“I thought we accidentally killed ya.” The driver who was now not driving remarked.
You had to be smarter with your words this time. There was no point in begging to be set free. They had already taken you to god knows where, killed your entire staff, and bound you to a chair. There was no going back for them.
“My dad has money. That’s what you’re after, right?” You bargained, taking a stab in the dark. This didn’t feel like human trafficking. This felt like a hostage, ransom situation. Little did they know, your dad probably wasn’t going to pay a single penny to get you back.
“Clever girl.” The driver grinned. He was also another handsome man with chestnut brown hair and a mustache. He seemed much more calmer than Toji, and he had a capable energy to him. You could tell that he was definitely the ringleader. Toji was simply the muscle behind the operation.
The driver took three slow, calculated steps towards you. He was still out of reach as he crouched down to be at your level. His eyes were dark brown as he carefully exam you.
“If you’re good, I’ll explain how this is gonna work.” The man said lowly. His voice was deeper than Toji’s but not as gravely or hardened. He had a voice fit for radio.
You slowly nodded, tears already sliding down your cheeks out of sheer fear.
“Good girl. Keep that same energy for the camera.” The man purred before you directed your attention to Toji. He was setting up a tripod with a nice Canon camera set up on it. He flicked the lights off, but it wouldn’t be too dark for anyone to see.
Your body started to react before you could even fully process what was going on. You rocked back and forth in your chair while crying, trying to fight against the restraints. Toji clicked the record button, and he pulled two black balaclavas out of his pocket. Throwing one at the other man and slipping one on for himself. Their identities besides their eyes were completely concealed.
The nameless man tied a piece of cloth that worked as a gag around your mouth, and you sobbed harder. This could go so many ways, and you didn’t want to consider all the possibilities. Your mind thinking up the most depraved acts.
Then, the nameless man held a voice distorter up to his mouth, like the ones that were used in horror films. Toji suddenly grabbed your hair tightly with his oversized fist, and he made you look directly into the camera.
The nameless man started the video off by addressing your dad by his full name. “We have your daughter.” He plainly stated, going silent so one of your muffled sobs could clearly he heard.
He went on a spill about the ransom and how it was going to work. They were demanding 10 million dollars to be paid in a week. It had to be paid in person by your dad, or they would mail him your body parts.
You choked out sobs and tried to scream. You were going to die. There was no way you were going to make it out of this situation alive.
Toji’s thumb ever so gently caressed the back of your head. He was still holding your hair tightly, making you look directly into the camera, but he was subtly rubbing small circled into your scalp as if he was trying to subtly soothe you.
Whatever his intent was, it wasn’t working. You strained against the rope and the gag. You cried and tried to beg your way out of this. Finally, the nameless man showed the camera a timer. It was set for 168 hours, and it was steadily dwindling down.
Then, he stopped the recording ominously. “Can’t believe we got that on the first try.” He muttered with a laugh before pulling off his balaclava. He then flicked back on the lights.
You looked at both of the men in a confused manner. They were both so calm and casual after recording a literal ransom video. It was eerie. You hated this feeling of distrust and uneasiness that settled into the pit of your stomach.
Toji ripped off his balaclava, and he promptly untied the gag before picking up the camera off the tripod and walking away.
“Alright doll, you did so good.” The nameless man praised as he crouched back down to be at your level. “I guess that means I gotta tell you how things are gonna work now, huh?”
A sheepish nod later, and he continues, "I'm Shiu, and you already know the other old fucker's name is Toji." He starts, gesturing to Toji who was lazily typing away at a computer with a death glare.
"We're not gonna hurt ya until you give us a reason to. You just gotta be good for us and do as we say, and this will be a breeze." Shiu's tone was steady and lighthearted as if he was talking about the itinerary to a vacation and not your kidnapping.
Tears clouded your vision. Your captors seemed to have thought of all the details but one. Your father couldn't give less of a fuck about you, and he likely wasn't going to pay a dime for your safe return.
"And when my dad doesn't pay you two, then what? You two kill me and mail my body off so you can move onto the next mogul's daughter?" You asked -- tone full of resentment.
"We're not amateurs, darlin'." Shiu grins at you, boldly using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears from your cheeks. You're still bound, so you're at his whim right now. "Toji's workin' on releasing that video publicly. How could the wealthiest CEO of Japan get away with not paying to have his daughter back safely?"
You pursed your lips together, trying to think rationally. None of this felt real. Your heart stuttered in your chest. Would your dad pay to get you back if he risked ruining his reputation?
If he ruined his reputation, companies would pull their stocks and tank his company. It would be hard for him to form partnerships because other companies wouldn’t want to be associated with him. His perfectly curated baby would come crashing down.
He would have to pay to get you back.
Noticing the gears turning in your head, Shiu patted your hair gently with his oversized palm. “We also got a few other tricks up our sleeve. We didn’t do this on a spur of the moment decision, darling.”
They weren’t two petty criminals looking to make it big. These two men were the real deal. They had the knowledge and precision that it took to commit serious crimes. This probably wasn’t even their first ransom situation.
“Glad to know you plotted my kidnapping perfectly.” You muttered in a self-deprecating tone.
Shiu gave another chuckle as his hand stayed on your head. His touch was warm and unwavering. It had been years since someone showed you affection so casually.
“I’d say you’re in good hands, but…” He grinned at you, ruffling your hair before removing his hand. “You’re in capable hands.” He said before he slowly walked around behind you. “Be honest, darling. If I untie you, are you going to try to run?”
Your eyes lingered on the door of the Airbnb. Would you even make it far if you did run? Would it be worth being tied down for even longer? Your eyes wandered to Toji, who was sat strategically near the door. His gaze was still on the laptop, but you could tell that he could easily catch you if given the chance.
Shiu laughed as he could see the inner turmoil on your face. You really wore your emotions on your sleeve, not hiding that you were weighing the option of running. “You wanna see what’ll happen? Try it, princess.” He dared as his fingers worked to loosen the knots around your hands.
Your body was achy from the precarious position of being tied to the chair. You instinctively stretched, feeling your stiff muscles protest.
You looked back up at Shiu, registering that he was offering you to run. “Go ahead. Go.” He said as he nodded towards the door.
“If you make me run, I’m taking it out on your ass.” Toji grumbled from his position near the door. His green eyes were now glaring at you.
Against your better judgement, you ran. You had to run, even if it was clearly a setup. If you didn't try to get away, then someone would say that you wanted this to happen. You wanted to be kidnapped from your prison.
You barely made it to the door and swung it open before two strong arms wrapped around your midsection, hauling you up as if you weighed nothing.
"Fucking brat." Toji's voice rumbled in your ear as he lifted your body up, pressing your backside against his chest as he kicked the door shut.
Shiu chuckled as he made sure to lock it back. He really just enticed you to run to piss Toji off. He had to keep things interesting after all.
A grunt passed your lips as you were unceremoniously slung onto the plush bed in the room. You tried to kick and fight your way out of Toji's hold, but his hands expertly held you down and forced your arms above your head. You squeezed your eyes shut.
Here it comes... the part where you wish they would've just killed you...
The sound of metal jingling caught your attention, and you hesitantly opened your eyes to see Toji handcuffing you down to the headboard.
As soon as one of your wrists were cuffed and bound, Toji got up off of you. "Until you can learn how to behave and not be stupid." He muttered as he turned his back to you and went back to sit down.
Well, that wasn't what you were expecting.
"Technically-" You spoke up, looking between Toji and Shiu as they watched you with amused eyes. "I was behaving since he told me to run." You pointed out, nodding your head towards Shiu.
"And I told you what would happen if you did run. You're lucky I haven't bent you over my knee yet." Toji countered, crossing his arms over his chest with a lopsided grin.
"Yet-?"
"I haven't decided if I'm going to do it or not, but your smart mouth is pushing me, brat."
You swallow thickly, realizing what you were truly dealing with here. Your eyes leave Toji's figure, and you look up towards the handcuff chaining you to the bed.
You were kidnapped from one prison and brought to another, and yet, a strange voice in the back of your head is telling you that your kidnappers have better intentions with you than your own dad.
"Don't listen to him," Shiu's low voice rumbled, breaking your line of thought. "He's all bark and rarely any bite,"
"He killed all of my staff members," you retort, staring at Shiu with furrowed eyebrows. How could he act like Toji was anything less than a killing machine?
"Touché," was all Shiu responded with as he looked over at you with a relaxed grin.
Toji was back to lounging as he tilted his head back. His adams apple bobbing as he closed his eyes. He wasn't really going to sleep next to the door, was he?
Shiu had walked off out of sight, and you could hear him responding to a phone call.
Moving around on the bed, you figured you may as well get comfortable while you're trapped.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#fanfic#jjk suggestive#jjk toji#toji x y/n#toji x you#jujutsu toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#toji x reader#dom shiu#jjk shiu kong#shiu x y/n#shiu x you#shiu x reader#jjk shiu#shiu kong#jjk dead dove#dead dove#jjk dark romance#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n
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Have Danny hit his own emergency silent alarm tracker. You cannot convince me after a Phantom reveal they wouldn’t have one for him to send out a distress signal that loops until the Boo-merang and an ally to Team Phantom have located and secured Danny.
So for fun?
A pissed off Red Huntress storms Wayne Manor and demands they return the endangered species they kidnapped (referring to Danny) and when trying to deny, she asks why the fuck they stole a halfa from his preferred obsession during mandatory time, and that the boo-merang tracks his ass. It also clobbered into two batfam members (i say Cass doing stretches and Jason on his way to the library).
Bruce is stuck with a pissed off Small Town Hellmouth Maintaining Hero ready to rock his family’s shit for trafficking an endangered species of ecto-entity. One that was born human and made liminal via Government Sanctioned Experiments and is now a literal bridge between worlds.
A teen who wants to make coffee (current fixation, and a mild part of his ghostly obsession with cultures branched into drinks (food reanimation truama limits it to drinks) and helps Tim with R&D on engineering projects.
Damian is informed afterwards he broke a treaty between the UN and the Pathways of the Afterlife and varied planes of existence.
Danny just stays behind Val once it’s confirmed he is not going to be randomly dissected. Again.
Val escorts him back to his job before handing off the Legal Lecture to an Observant.
Said observant admits they’ve tried assassinating Danny countless times as “his species is a blight” but are now stuck legally explaining why you cannot capture a free roaming Halfa, or kill them before their determined expiration date.
Damian is mortified. Especially upon learning Danny can help liminal adjacent individuals (like Tim) become liminal and manage any prior curses on them (which the increasing ecto shots do).
Tim gets a new coffee and finds out his little brother is being lectured by a branch of the Undead Multiverse’s government for removing Danny from his preferred environment against his will.
Tim makes sure Danny is given a hefty raise for his trouble and bribes Danny to forgive Damian’s presumption of ‘this man is poisoning my brother’ by offering to have Danny help him piss off Luthor and Vlad in business meetings.
Largely by doing coffee drop offs, making drinks loudly in the background and even letting him interrupt a meeting with Vlad and revealing Danny as Tim’s “coffee assistant and engineering partner”.
Danny is Thriving Again. Tim is harassing billionaires, his favorite activity.
Damian is reminded to TELL people about presumed poisonings rather than kidnap the person.
Val now has Beef with Batfam and very obviously is loyal to Danny over them. Batman is not allowed to talk to her during joint JL and JLD missions.
She will just scream in ghostspeak on the comms and short non JLD ones if he tries as “nope. You taught you son to kidnap an endangered species of ecto and my favorite ex. Fuck off.”
The reminder Damian had kidnapped Red’s ex who she broke up to keep SAFE from her enemies only to have him be assaulted years later by an ally was…
It was not good.
Danny is glad to see Val more! Tim is plotting the two’s dating life and expects to be on Danny’s side at the wedding.
Tam has decided to ignore Tim’s decision to pre-plan Danny’s dating life and discusses the BS of having dated another hero with Val, the BS that is secret identities, and also how do you not get a headache from the suit with your hair?
Val is glad for another friend that Gets It on more levels they swap hair routines. She may go to Tam’s braider to see how she likes it.
Dcdp coffeshop
Tim pays danny and absurd salary to work in WE coffee place because he's the only one willing to make Tim's coffee because every time he does he faces reckless endangerment charges because of how strong the coffee is and no one else is willing to risk it.
Danny takes his coffee the same way but with a shot of ecto, which is fine until Tim sees Danny put the green!water into his coffee. Tim, being the most rational bat, doesn't freak out and kidnaps Danny for where he got Lazurus water and just asks his.
Danny explains that his parents are one scientists of the "only not a rouge on a technicality" variety and have been synthesizing this shit since before he was born, and that while it's the single best energy booster on the planet its also poison to humans, which Danny says he isn't quite sure he is anymore.
Tim's eyes light up at the "single best energy booster on the planet part" and asks for some, completely disregarding the poison aspect.
Danny says fuck it, but Tim is going to have to build up a tolerance over time, so a single small spirt of ecto once a day to start.
A few months to a year later Tim sends one of his siblings, preferably Damian, to get his coffee from Danny, and then proceeds to freak the fuck out when he watches Danny put Lazurus Water in Tim's drink.
Damien is not the most rational bat.
Tim never does get that coffee.
Danny is in a bat holding cell having a panic attack.
#dpxdc#danny fenton#timothy drake wayne#lazurus water isnt sewage or waste products#its pond water thats been left sitting for a ling ass time#Val is MVP#Damian tried but skipped procedures#tim decided he’s a matchmaker now#tam is along for the ride#val and tam solidarity#danny is here for coffee
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Gentleman's Cage (part 1)
Monstertober 2024 - day 29 [ Caged Beast ] by @/ozzgin
[ m!werewolf x fem!reader ]
a/n: some regency smut, my first one so please be gentle! i was greatly inspired by @regency-monster-love and they were so kind to help me out too! thank you, dear! content: slightly nsfw
He can’t calm down. He knows you will be there, and he is getting very impatient to see you. Especially since you told him you find his courting very pleasing. It took him a while to reveal that he is a werewolf. But instead of running away screaming, you smiled and touched his hand. You even looked excited.
Just reminiscing about those few minutes put a smile on his face, his sharp canines showing underneath his lips. But thinking about you too much is also dangerous. His body - his lower body, to be more precise - reacts to the mere idea of you as if you're right next to him. Naked.
He groans, feeling his erection pushing against the fabric of his finest trousers. Being born with werewolf blood is both a blessing and a curse. He is aware that people will notice; anyone with eyes will notice the hardness alongside his inner thigh. That's why he hopes his little metal tool will help him. Or else, the scandal will follow him wherever he goes.
***
The fancy gathering is as lovely as he expects. People dance, eat and drink, and converse on various topics that barely interest him. He is looking for you with every sense he has - but they find nothing. He wants to ask someone, but even a mere question would raise suspicion. He doesn’t want anyone to know, not yet, that he fancies you rather intensely.
But he shouldn't think about you too much! He shifts his legs a little bit to position the metal contraption between his legs in a more comfortable way. Cock cage, they called it. Even while flaccid, it was hard to push his manhood inside. But he managed to lock his desire in - physically, at least. Mentally - not so much.
Finally, he catches a whiff of your sweat. You aren’t just fashionably late, you are very late so you were probably rushing down the path and up the stairs. Perhaps you were frustrated and nervous about some mishap, furiously fanning yourself in your carriage. And perhaps - only perhaps - you were thinking of him. Thinking about his eyes and teeth and tall frame. Perhaps you held your knuckle between your lush lips while the fingers of your other hand secretly wandered underneath your skirt and—
The painful jolt underneath his belt wakes him up from his daydreaming. Stop it, you fool! He curses internally and immediately turns toward the window, pretending to observe the night sky. He forces himself to think about what to eat for breakfast and what letters need answering, and then - just as his erection is starting to deflate - he hears your voice:
"Hello, Mr. Werewolf! Lovely evening, isn't it?"
And there is another strong pulse between his legs. While he would love to jump through the window and run, it would be improper and rude not to greet you. With a disturbing mental image of his grandfather bathing in his mind to cool him down, he turns to greet you: "Indeed, and you are..."
But he trails off. You've never looked as beautiful, so elegant. The cut on your dress is so deep he can enjoy your every curve and birthmark. He hopes he will be able to memorize all of them, like constellations. And your skin is so flushed and glowy he can barely stop himself from touching your cheeks, shoulders, or... He swallows hard.
You notice his terrified expression and can't help but giggle a bit. He, on the other hand, is not entertained even the slightest. "I apologize, my lady, I must... get a breath of fresh air!" And he hastily leaves you.
You hide your smile behind your fan and follow his trail carefully.
***
He has to do something! The cage... It's too tight! As he hides inside the hedge maze, he runs to the fountain that was standing just around the corner, hoping that the rush of water will hide his torture. He unbuttons his trousers and is not surprised to see his manhood swollen and pulsating between the metal sheets. The pain is mixed with a strange dose of pleasure edged with anticipation. Even though some other time he might've enjoyed exploring this sensation, now is definitely not a good moment. He needs to get rid of this self-imposed prison before he hurts himself more, but... he left the key... at home.
An exasperated sigh is all he can do right now. And thinking about dead puppies to somehow reduce the painful swelling.
Just as his mental torture is starting to work, he smells something. Something sweet, potent, and familiar. So familiar. His erection re-emerges. Desperately, he turns around, attempting to hide his shame, and pushes himself (and the cage) into the hedges. He must look absolutely ridiculous.
"Oh my, you're here. Are you well?"
It is you. You followed him here. He takes a deep breath and smiles over his shoulder. "Y-yes, perfectly fine. I just needed some fresh air."
You approach his long tail, admiring his broad back and inhuman muscles. He is very tense - and you think you know why. "I'm sure the air will smell a lot fresher outside those hedges."
The tension struck his spine like lightning - he stands upright, not breathing. He knows he can't keep hiding. Hoping - praying - his shame is not so obvious.
He turns toward you, with a stiff and awkward smile, holding one of his huge hands over his crotch, trying to look relaxed. "Indeed... It's a lot f-fresher."
You can't actually look down since your curiosity would be too obvious then. Luckily, he is towering over you so his abdomen is leveled with your face, and it takes only a deep curtsy to see what you have been curious about since the day you met him. Only to not see what you expected. But you're sure his hand is hiding something scandalous? And delicious.
"Did your claws grow?" you ask him innocently.
The naïve werewolf lifts his hands to check them, uncovering his crotch. There is definitely an interesting and twitching bulge there.
"I don't think so. Are you... worried?" His yellow eyes grow in worry. "I would never lay a finger on you!"
You hum as if you are terribly bored. "Oh. That's a shame."
The beast in front of you looks entirely confused, the poor thing. "Shame?"
You approach him slowly, like you're dancing, and his eyes don't leave your figure. "I would love a bit more than a finger on me. Perhaps an entire hand." You cup his heavy, hairy hand. You feel exceptionally bold - there won't be many opportunities like this in your future. Only a boring life awaits you - if you allow that. "All over me, in fact."
[ part 2 ]
#monster#monster lover#monster fucker#monster fuqqer#monster boyfriend#monster imagine#monster smut#monster x reader#monster x you#monster x fem!reader#monster x female#werewolf lover#werewolf smut#werewolf romance#werewolf#teratophillia#terat0philliac#terato#slightlyknotinsane#ski.doc#ski.monstertober
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May I please ask for more Royal Consort?? 🥺🥺🥺
Danny stares at the piles of paperwork sitting on the desk. They are in perfect stacks, each glowing in different neon lights- representing the territories they come from- and the boxes of scrolls waiting for his review.
There were also piles and piles of parchment. Stacks upon stacks of scrolls. And he thinks some crystals that contain oral recordings of reports. All glowing. All various colors.
It was like a rave barfed all over an office and left an unholy mess.
He can tell by just looking that this will take him days, if not weeks, to go through. Let's not even think about about getting it processed.
Pointdexter is floating about the room, muttering and checking a clipboard periodically. Danny had figured that he would stop hiding in his room after the third concubine was sent since he woke up. The three were outraged that Consort Danny refused them entry to the castle, claiming they were gifts for the King and not the human toy he picked up.
They left after Pointdexter restrained Danny from reaching for his ghost-hunting gear. He made it clear that as the Manager of the Hunt-Third in command but more respected by ghost nobility due to being a ghost himself- King Phantom had no need for
They left after Pointdexter restrained Danny from reaching for his ghost-hunting gear. He made it clear that King Phantom had no need for concubines as the Manager of the Hunt- Third in command but more respected by ghost nobility due to being a ghost himself.
The King was not around to formally dismiss them, which meant the the many men who were sent to Phantom as gifts could not stay in the castle. They would have to return when Phantom returned from the human world to evaluate the situation.
Sir John the Pure had been only one overjoyed to be dismissed like this. It seemed he was the youngest of the Cosmos tribe but suffered from a rare core condition. Sir John could not use any ghost powers without his core threatening to shatter in his chest.
He was a human with blue skin and stardust-dusted hair but without the added benefit of phasing through walls in the Infinite Realms. Sir John was one of the ghosts born in the Zone, making his condition more shameful.
Besides his pretty face, there wasn't much Sir John had to offer the Realms, and thus, the family was eager to marry him off if only to get some political power through him. Danny had ordered Pointdexter to create a nearby hotel for Sir John so he wouldn't have to go home to his less-than-ideal family.
He even dismissed the servants who accompanied the young ghost- they were the same age- and instead had his aid find better servants to treat the ghost right.
Danny ignored the adoring gazes the ghost threw at him when he was offered the hotel, especially with Timothy Drake watching everything. He finally understood what Pointdexer meant about the human ambassador.
He may pretend to be clueless, but a fierce intelligence burns brightly in his eyes. Drake was watching everything far too carefully to fall his act. Danny's question was how he had managed to convince him before.
Had he just been overwhelmed with the whole Consort thing or was he more aware now that he was inside the Hunt that served as an extension of himself?
"Danno!" Poindexter screams in joy upon seeing him. "You're up! Excellent! The purchase orders on the desk must be paid by nine today."
The ghost flies behind him, pushing him towards the desk even with Danny digging his feet into the carpet. "Why do all these have to be paid by nine pm?"
"Oh no, no, no." Pointdexter hums, throwing him into the chair and pressing a fountain pen in his hand in one clean motion. His smile is dead, and his eyes are soulless as the fifties ghost says, "They need to be paid by nine am."
"But, it eight thirty am right now!?" Danny gasps. The grip on his shoulder goes unbearably tight as his Haunt manager looms over him.
"You better start signing." The teen says in a way that is not quite a threat but not entirely friendly. "The second you put your signature on these forms, payments are sent out. We. Need. To. Pay."
Danny reaches for the closed form, shaking a little in fear as paper after paper is slid under his hand and pen. Every time he finished the last loop in his name, Poindexter quickly switched it out with another while speaking in a fast-paced tone to explain what he was signing.
"Payments for a festival hosted in the FarForzen. Payment for the food we consume. Payment for the clothes. Payment for the wood. Payment for anti-slavery act. Payment for soldiers harmed in the war. Payment for castle repairs. Payment for the ice sculptures. Payment to fund the apology gift baskets for the rejected concubines. Payment for MY payroll is behind. Payment for the bath salts King Phantom ordered. Payment for medical treatment in FarFrozen."
Danny's hand was starting to cramp up, and he wasn't even near the middle half of the pile. He lost himself in the paperwork, entering a near-meditational stage. Hours later, someone knocks on the wood of his door, dragging Danny from the pits he has fallen into.
It takes him a moment to get his eyes to focus on the figure in the doorway. The paperwork glows in various colors. His eyes hurt, okay?. It's Sir John carrying a tray of food and beaming at him. "Hello, Dearest Consort. I brought you some food."
"Um, why?" Danny asks after a moment. He meant why was he ghost here wearing a butler uniform when he should be at the hotel he set up for him.
"Sir John is an excellent chief," Pointdexer mutters, looking through some scrolls while flouting seven papers around him. His eyes flicker between each one in practice ease- apparently, he was a season dungeon master in life?. "I offered him a job when keeping maintenance of the Haunt grew too difficult for me on my lonesome. Our last staff walked out after their payroll was delayed so much. Not that I couldn't blame them."
Sir John scurries inside, placing the tray by Danny. Seeing someone so regal do servant work was a bit jarring, but somehow, he made the action of serving tea look like an art form. "I don't mind how long it takes for my payment to come through, Dearest Consort. To be by your side is more than enough for me."
Pointdexer shoots Danny a look before he turns his papers around and, on them, spells out the words, "He has a crush on you. Want me to fire him?"
Danny opens his mouth to speak, but once again, someone knocks on his door. It's Timothy Drake, dressed to the nines in a stylish old-timey suit. Something that was before Pointdexter time. "Hello, Consort Fenton. I was wondering if you needed help in the admissions department."
Danny stares, ignoring the way Sir John's stardust turns an angry bright red. "Why do you ask?"
"Pass the time mostly," Drake laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Not much to do around the castle now that I'm a human sacrifice."
Pointdexer clears his throat pointedly "If you require entertainment, I can arrange that easily, Mr. Drake. Your offer is gracious but unnecessary."
A paper floats over to Danny from Pointdexer. On it, the word SPY glows brightly. Right, Mr. Drake was still operating under the impression Danny and Phantom were married and that the king was madly in love with him.
If there was a chance to see if the King was gearing up for war and undermining him, befriending the Consort way over his head would be the perfect way to do so.
"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you, though." Danny seconds, making sure to keep his suspicions off his face. Drake smiles, and suddenly, Danny realizes something.
Drake's smile is the same one those elites at the Wayne Gala wore. The same kind was on the three potential concubines' faces before they realized they would not be allowed entry. It was the smile of someone of high society. Not someone like Danny, who was raised firmly in the middle class. He doesn't think he would be able to fake it no matter how many years he studied to be considered upper-class
A chill runs down his spine.
How was Phantom so quickly able to blend in with them? Especially if he was only two years in the future of a world that had fallen apart?
Was King Phantom.....lying to him?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
An entire plane of existence away, King Phantom sits before the tense and somewhat nervous members of the Justice League, the United Nations representatives, and the Lord of Time himself, Clockwork.
He laces his fingers under his chin, keeping his cold stare a few inches away from a glare but not quite there. His formal attire showcases his status and his position, but it's the spear, the flaming crown, and the
"Ladies and Gentlemen." He starts voicing, echoing the clacking of ice, "I want to put to rest that I will be starting a war with this planet for the attack on Consort Danny."
There was a mutter of relieved sighs through the room, only for the temperature to drop so quickly and rapidly that puffs of smoke were visible whenever someone breathed.
King Phantom's eyes were alight with rage as he spoke in a deadly calm voice, "I will instead begin the invasion of all nearby planets. Earth will keep its freedom only because my Consort has a small, insignificant attachment to this world. But make no mistake, you are all pets at the most, and everyone outgrows their pets eventually. Or outlives them. It's the only way to keep my Consort's honor intake within the Afterlife Court. I will give you one week to say goodbye, and then I will kill fifty percent of all life on this planet."
The entire room felt like they were placed in a guillotine. No one moved. No one spoke. Everyone- including the people watching at home huddled around screens- was too tight to move.
Clockworks bows his head, ashamed of what he's about to allow to happen to keep the timeline flowing correctly.
He raises his staff.
"My King, may I suggest another way to keep Consort Danny's honor?" Clockwork shifts into his elder form as the King glances at him.
"What is your suggestion?"
"Why not...."Clockwork words fade a little, aware that Phantom was growing impatient for his hesitation. It wouldn't do to ruin the king's plan, no matter how terrible dumb Clockwork thought it was. "Why not instead divorce? The Consort honor will not be a failed reflection of your inability to keep him safe as a protection spirit if he is no longer your reelection?"
The room gawked at Clockwork but no more than the King, who leaped to his feet in outrage. "You dare suggest I lose the love of my life-"
"You can simply remarry him after a week." Clockwork interprets embarrassment and wants to get through his hair-brain idea. "Earth could make up for the disrespect they showed the royal family by hosting the ceremony."
King Phantom sits back down, rubbing at his chin."That would be better than the alternative. Plus, it ensures Danny wouldn't be angry with me for killing anyone."
"Yes, as Consort Danny wisely said: Have you tried turning it off and back on again?" It took everything in Clockwork to say that sentence as seriously as possible. "This way, no blood is spilled. Consort Danny can finally have that human version of the ceremony he always wanted. You would no longer be anchored to him with the new vows, allowing you to be on Earth without straining Consort Danny's body. The list of benefits is long, Sir."
Phantom looks increasingly gleeful with every word out of his high advisor's mouth. "I can also release that homewrecker, Drake, back to the human realm!"
Clockwork bites his tongue "Yes, my King. Though again, I do not see a future, past or present, where Timothy Drake is infuated with the Consort. He just wants to protect the human race."
"Lies! Did you not see the way he was dancing at the gala?" Phantom hissed, curling his hands into tight fists, but his eyes were alight with glee. " He was practically undressing!"
"Okay." Clockwork shifts into his middle-aged form, trying very hard to keep the annoyance off his face. He doesn't think he is successful but it at least adds more to their whole facade. "The wedding, sir?"
"Oh yes! I shall devoice my husband and marry once more. People of Earth, you have one month to prepare our wedding, and I shall put...you in charge of it!" Phantom points to a very silent as the grave glaring man in a bat costume. "Just for some motivation I will now remove gravity across Earth."
He snaps his fingers, and the world panics as everyone starts flouting. It lasts only for a few seconds, but it's enough to be reminded of how mighty the Ghost King was.
Phantom gives Batman one finally mad smile. "Do not disappoint me:"
The two ghosts vanish in a swirl of the green light portals.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#the royal consort#Part 9#What is Phantom hiding?#Danny realizing he now involved in politics he knows nothing about#There is tenseion rising everywhere#Clockwork is too tired for this#Don't be fooled Bruce sweating bullets#This is not Dead Tired sorry
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Say Ah! ib: Say Ah by Trey Songz please listen while you read :) patrick zweig x art donaldson x fem!reader
cw: nsfw(18+), drunk sex, drug use, dirty talk, squirting, eiffel tower of sorts
girl it’s your birthday open wide i know you’re thirsty say ah
Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson were two very notable names at your very prestigious boarding school. Art’s parents were rich but they were new money. Art’s dad had created a startup tech way before Art was born and it became super successful.
Patrick’s parents though? They were old money. Like Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, Carnegie type old money. No one even knows what his parents do but with amount of money they pay for boarding school tuition, no one really cared.
Art and Patrick were attached at the hip. It made sense though, they were roommates for years. Their families are friends now. They spend breaks and summers on trips to europe or the carribean. Between the Zweig’s chalet in Geneva, the Donaldson’s villa in the Bahamas, the Zweig’s chateau in Nice, and the Donaldson’s beachfront house in St.Kitts, they were spoiled for options.
There were rumors going around that they share girls. You weren’t 100% sure what that meant but you could use your imagination. There were other rumors that they were actually dating each other but you weren’t sure about that either.
Your paths hadn’t crossed much in the almost 6 years you guys have been here. But tonight your best friend insisted you guys go clubbing tonight for your birthday. You liked to party from time to time but you’d try not to go overboard. Emphasis on try. But you were a party girl at heart.
You put on the white shirt and a sequin mini skirt. You finish your makeup and throw on some heels.
“should we pregame?” You ask fiddling with your hair in the mirror.
“nah we won’t need to,” your friend, Liz, says as she finishes zipping up her thigh high boots.
You raise an eyebrow. You know it’s been a minute since you went out but you’re pretty sure pregaming is still the most cost effective way to get drunk.
She continues as she stand up, “we’re going to Patrick and Art’s section tonight at Ikon.”
Oh.
“oh um- i-i didn’t know, i’ve never partied with them before,” you’re unsure why you’re nervous. You’ve been clubbing a million times. And it’s just Patrick and Art, how intimidating could they be.
She shrugs, “i’ve been out with them a few times, they’re super nice. they just always order bottles so there’s no point in pregaming with cheap stuff.”
You nod and follow her out the door.
When you guys get inside the club is already pretty packed. Sweaty bodies and sticky floors. You hold onto you friend hand as she drags you through the club and upstairs. Weaving through the masses.
You’ve never been to Ikon before, you usually frequent Barcelo or Kapital more. But so far you were liking the vibes.
Once you guys get to their section, your friend steps over the velvet rope and you follow suit.
There’s a ridiculous amount of people from school here, mainly girls but a few guys as well. There were a few champagne buckets with ice on the table. In them, so many bottles. Clase Azul, Dom Perignon, Don Julio. Oh wow, Liz was not joking.
She greats them each with a side hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“lizzzzzz, lizzie, you made it i’m so happy you came,” Art says. He’s definitely a little tipsy.
“couldn’t let you host without inviting the life of the party and the birthday girl,” She says gesturing to herself and you.
Patrick smirks. He’s holding a bottle of 1942 in his hand. He takes a swig before he says, “and who is this birthday girl you’ve brought with you?”
You’re nervous again. Why are you nervous? Fuck. They’re just two rich white boys, you need to pull it together. You take a breath and say, “y/n”
Art smiles and claps his hand on Patrick’s shoulder, “have you taken a shot yet? c’mon pat give her a shot. it’s her birthday.”
Patrick is more than happy to oblige. He walks over to you, holding the neck of the bottle, “c’mon birthday girl, say ah.”
A shot is exactly what you need to loosen up. You tilt your head back, opening your mouth. You move your hand to cup right under your mouth as a safeguard for any spillage.
“there you go, uh uh no hands baby,” He says. The butterflies in your stomach going crazy after he says that. But you move your hands nonetheless. He pours some tequila into your mouth. His aim wasn’t perfect so a little does dribble down your neck. He leans down to whisper by your ear, “good girl.”
And just like that he’s gone.
The rest of the night is really fucking blurry. Art and Patrick were giving out shots like water. If you ever had an empty cup it was filled within minutes. If you were dancing so you hadn’t had a drink in a minute, Patrick of Art were there in seconds. They didn’t even have to tell you what to do anymore. You instinctively tilt your head back and open your mouth everytime they approach you with a bottle in their hand. Their excuse being “it’s your birthday, can’t let you go thirsty”
There’s a moment where you walk back to the table in the section that Patrick and Art are sitting at. They’ve got a few lines of coke on the table, Art going first. So Patrick is the first one that spots you and gestures for you to sit next to him.
“enjoying yourself birthday girl?” Patrick smirks. But before you have a chance to answer, Art is passing him the very tightly rolled $100 bill for Patrick to do his lines. So Art steps in to fill the conversation.
“hey having fun?” He smiles a big goofy smile. He’s actually kind of cute. And a decent contrast to more chill Patrick Zweig. But you haven’t really gotten to know them yet so you’ll hold back on the assumptions for now.
You nod slowly, fearful that too much head movement sitting down would make you dizzy, “so much fun, you guys are good hosts so that makes it better.”
Patrick sits back up and wipes his nose. He turns his head to look at you, “where are my manners? did you want?” He asks gesturing to the half empty tiny plastic baggy on the table.
You shake your head no laughing, “i tried it once and I just threw up all over the place so i’ll pass”
He nods in understanding. You notice he has his hand on Art’s thigh as he keeps talking to you, “good birthday so far?”
You nod smiling, “best birthday so far.”
“good i’m glad we could make that happen for you,” He says leaning into your personal space bubble. If you don’t know any better you’d think he’s trying to kiss you, there’s just one more question you want to ask first.
“you and Art seem pretty close,” You say, not creating any distance between the two of you. If anything you lean in closer. You keep eye contact with Patrick. You can see the gears turning in his head as he thinks of how he should answer that.
He smirks, he does that a lot you’ve noticed, “do you wanna see just how close we are?”
You nod biting your lip, but you’re not 100% sure if this is going where you think it’s going.
He sits back up turning his head to Art’s direction. He puts his hand on Art’s chin making Art face him, pulling Art away from whatever side conversation he was having. And he pulls him in for a kiss. It’s slow and sloppy, expected since they’re both kind of drunk at this point. Art kisses Patrick back with no hesitation, so they’ve done this before.
When Patrick pulls away from the kiss he turns back to you while Art goes back to his side conversation. A smirk plastered right back on his face, “does that answer your question?”
“so the rumors are true? you guys are together?”
Patrick laughs. He actually laughs so hard he throws his head back. When he finishes his laughing fit, he turns back to you to say, “fuck no I am not dating blondie, we just like to have fun.”
They just like to have fun. Have fun? So do they share girls? It’s another rumor you heard and it sounds like something someone who likes to have fun would do.
Before you can think on it anymore your body is spewing out the words, “so do you guys share girls?” No reference to the rumor at all, so it almost sounds like you’re asking for yourself.
Now that peaks Patrick’s interest. So maybe it is true? He leans down by your ear again to whisper, “do you want to find out?”
That’s how you end up in their dorm room at 3am.
Initially you didn’t want to leave your friend Liz behind but apparently she had already left with another which she sent you a text about an hour ago. Wow you really don’t check your phone when you’re drunk.
The three of you waste no time taking off your clothes. It’s been a minute since you’ve had sex with one person, let alone two.
You noticed they had pushed both their beds together, very interesting. Patrick and Art start making out on their bed, Patrick is lying down and Art is on top of him.
You’re not sure where you should jump in until Patrick grabs Art’s curls pushing his head down to come face to face with Patrick’s cock. Once Art starts sucking, Patrick gestures for you to straddle him.
You climb on top of him and he pulls you down for a kiss. It’s slow and sensual, like he’s trying to explore your mouth with his tongue.
Art pulls off Patrick’s dick and moves his focus to your pussy. Since it’s right in his face now, he can’t really resist. He lazily continues jerking Patrick off as he licks up the crease of your folds.
He licks up and down, making sure to go down far enough to lick at your clit too. The he comes back up to push his tongue inside of you.
“oh fuck,” You moan into Patrick’s mouth.
Patrick pulls away from the kiss biting your bottom lip, “make sure you’re getting her ready for us.” You assumed he was talking to Art and on cue Art stuck two fingers inside of you, making you gasp.
Patrick moves his hands so one is grabbing your ass while the other is cupping your breast, toying with your nipple.
You being moved into a different position but you can’t tell where Patrick body ends and Art’s body begins. You’re not sure whose hands are where but now you’re on your on your hands and knees with Art in front of your face and Patrick behind you.
You’re looking up at Art as he drags his tip against your lips, smearing his pre cum around.
“fuck, you’re really fucking pretty,” Art breathes out.
At the same time Patrick had already rolled on a condom and was teasing your entrance, “don’t get all sappy on me now donaldson. c’mon y/n say ah”
As soon as you hear the phrase you’ve gotten acquainted to over the course of the night, it’s like muscle memory and your mouth opens.
Art and Patrick pushing into you at the same time from opposite is a euphoric feeling you don’t think you’ll ever forget.
Patrick hands gripping your hips as he fucks into you. Art’s hands tangles in your hair as he thrusts into your mouth. Patrick bruising your cervix, while Art bruises the back of your throat.
There are some differences between the two of them. Art is very whiny. He whines alot as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, mumbling over and over about how good you’re making him feel. While Patrick is more of a groan-er. He groans and moans as he fucks himself in and out of you, saying how well you’re taking his cock and what a good girl you are.
They went back and forth saying stuff like:
“holy fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
“fuck, shit, love seeing your lips wrapped around my cock”
“taking my cock so well,” They both said that in unison at the same time. Kinda freaky. But it added to that pit in your stomach that was building towards your orgasm.
All you could do was moan around Art’s cock that was shoved down your throat. Art’s shoved your face towards his pelvis almost suffocating you and you’re not sure why at first, until you hear kissing?
They’re making out above you. At least you can check eiffel tower of some sorts off of your bucket list.
You can feel both of their thrusts start to stutter, they’re close. They pull away from their kiss and you hear Art say, “fuck baby I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna—.” You feel his release shoot deep down your throat before he pulls out. And you swallow it all down.
When Art cums you feel your orgasm rip through your body but it feels different, “im cumming—“ You moan as your body contracts and there’s a rush of liquid. Patrick pulls out halfway as you squirt all over his dick. “jesus fuck,” He moans.
He was already on the edge but your tight hole squeezing around his cock mixed with the visuals of you squirting on his cock pushed him over the edge, “shit im gonna cum—“ He releases inside you before he pulls out and ties off the condom.
Art had already fallen asleep on his side of the bed but you couldn’t really blame him because he was drunk.
You’re not sure if you should leave and try to sneak back into the girls dorms or if you should stay. Patrick comes back and hands you a rag so you can clean up.
“thanks,” You say with shy smile, unsure why you’re feeling like you’re sobering up a little.
He offers a soft smile, “you know you can stay if you want, i wouldn’t kick you out.”
You gesture to the soiled bedsheets on what you assume is Patrick’s side of the bed, “sorry about the mess, i can help you clean up.”
He lets out a small laugh, “don’t apologize that was fucking hot, you do that often?”
You offer a smirk this time, “wanna find out?”
You both have to carry Art’s passed out body onto the sofa while you guys change the sheets. When Art wakes up the next morning to find new sheets on his bed, Patrick ignores all his questions about it, insisting that “it’s better if y/n just shows you what happened.”
a/n: bonus points if you recognize the club names :)
#challengers#patrick zweig#art donaldson#artrick#art donaldson x patrick zweig#challengers 2024#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#art x you#art x reader#art donaldson x you#patrick zweig smut#art donaldson smut#patrick zweig x you#patrick x you#patrick x reader#artrick x reader#artrick x you#art x patrick x you#art x patrick x reader
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That's very similar to the way I'm doing Lal's emotions in my fanfic where she survives! She has emotions, but she's not human so why would they present like human emotions if they're due to her own systems rather than a specially designed emotion chip?
She panics and gets scared because her programming meant to extrapolate from input, like maths and trajectories and probabilities, is overactive and goes into overdrive projecting negative occurrences and start looping in on themselves. Because of that tendency, she manifests as having an anxiety disorder even if the details aren't the same, and it has some pros and cons! She has a better 'imagination' than Data, but she also can't read as fast as he can because she can't not extrapolate from what she's reading, which takes processing time. She gets distressed and confused when her extrapolatory circuits can't figure something out. Lal laughs (which manifests as more of a beep) when her positronic brain becomes preoccupied with an absurd comparison, she becomes robotic and lilted because the unsealed inputs of emotional feedback she wasn't designed for leak into her movement protocols and her systems are too busy handling the emotions to handle actively imitating human beings (which is basically masking tbh). Her anger is born of a strong need to rebut in an argument.
It's also an interesting exercise in writing, because if she doesn't know what an emotion is yet, then naturally I have to figure out how this under a year old android would experience it without ever mentioning the emotion itself, including Lal's own confusion over 'wait what is this emotion now?'
And really, there's no real reason to assume Data can't feel the exact same computing-equivalent emotions. Hell, I'd argue it's possible Data would were it not for a programming block from Soong dulling them, he says Data and Lore are virtually identical except for a bit of programming. Just look at how he describes missing people, in similar terms - his net can anticipate inputs common to certain people and their absence is notable. And if Lal was constructed with 1:1 copies of Data's pathways, either there's some mutations happening or Data is fully capable of anxiety just like she is (I personally go with both).
Data: I am incapable of emotions, therefore it is not possible for me to ever be offended by anything
Data the second someone says something rude to him:
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The Bro Code
Ren: Oh, I'm so glad to be home!
Jaune: So am I. I know it's not my home, but this place has always felt like a second home to me.
Ren: I'm glad you think so. We'll be spending our time here at my mothers place, is that alright?
Jaune: That's just fine. Can you tell me about your family again? As confusing as mine family is because of my dad, yours just baffles the mind.
Ren: My mom is a human, and so is my dad.
Jaune: And, your sister is a god...?
Ren: She is the latest reincarnation of my villages guardian, the spiritual deity know as the, Emerald Dragon.
Jaune: Okay, and how did that happen? Did your mom sleep with this, Emerald Dragon, or...?
Ren: The Emerald Dragon has always been a female, so she didn't impregnate my mother!
Jaune: I'm sorry! I don't mean to imply anything, it's just... that can happen.
Ren: ...
Ren: I-Is that how one of your sisters...?
Jaune: No, but certain dragons can change genders, so...?
Ren: ...
Ren: The Emerald Dragon reincarnates into the child of any woman whilst it is in the womb. When my sister was born she came out as part dragon, signifying that she was the latest host of the, Emerald Dragon.
Jaune: Ahh... Now it makes sense. It's weird, but I've heard worse.
Ren: Okay, but Jaune there's something we need to talk about before we see my family.
Jaune: Which is?
Ren: Don't you dare fuck my sister!
Jaune: Okay.
Ren: I mean it, Jaune I'm invoking the bro code here! So don't even think about flirting with my sister!
Jaune: Okay.
Ren: I may see you as my brother from another mother...
Jaune: And, I too brother!
Ren: But, stay the fuck away from my sister!
Jaune: Okay.
Ren: ...
Jaune: ...
Ren: Okay then.
~~~
Li: Lie! It's so good to see you!
Ren: Hi dad, it's nice to see you too.
An: Renny! Oh my little baby is home!
Ren: Mom, please don't embarrass me in front of my friend...
Jaune: No please! I'm enjoying this~!
Ren: Traitor!
Li: Hahaha! Hello, Jaune it is nice to see you again.
Jaune: It's good to see you as well, Mr. Ren. And, to you as well, Mrs. Ren.
An: Hello, Jaune it's wonderful to see you again. I know, Rin was looking forward to seeing you again.
Jaune: Oh... is she?
An: Indeed she is, why in fact... Oh, Rinny~?
Rin: What is it mom?
An: Ren's home!
Rin: OH, cool that's nice...
An: And, he brought his friend, Jaune with him~!
Rin: J-J-Jaune?! Jaune's here?!
"Crash! Shatter! Thud!"
Rin: Jaune!? Ahem! Hi, Jaune it's nice to see you~!
Jaune: Hi, Rin it's a pleasure to see you too.
Rin: So, Jaune you interested in doing anything later~? Like say taking a walk by the pond... the lily pads are in bloom...
Jaune: Oh, that sounds lovely! Would you like to accompany us, Ren?
Rin: Eh...?
Ren: I would love to!
Rin: Oh.. oh no you didn't... !
Li: Well before we go do that, Jaune.
Jaune: Yes?
Li: To the bath with you. I'm sorry but you, Valians tend to stink when you get all sweaty.
Jaune: Considering my family I could also add a number of other reasons why, but I would greatly appreciate that! The last bath I had was mostly to clean the gore off my gear. Of which my armour also needs a thorough cleaning... Well then, off to the bath!
Li: Please follow me, Jaune.
An: I'll go start supper while you do so.
Li: Thank you dear. Jaune, follow me?
Jaune: Lead the way. Ren, are you coming?
Ren: Yes, I'll join you.
Rin: Wait, can I talk to you before you go, Ren?
Ren: Sure what is it sis?
Rin: And they're out of sight...?
Rin: Okay good!
"Pow!"
Ren: OW?! What the hell, Rin?! Why did you punch me in the face?!
Rin: To tell you that I don't give a shit!
Ren: ...?
Ren: About what?
Rin: About your fucking bro code! I've been waiting for months for, Jaune to come by again so he smash my sacred treasure again! And, no one, not my mother, my father, my brother, and not some fucking stupid bro code is going to stop me! You understand?!
Ren: But... but the bro..?! Wait... Again?!
Rin: Shut the fuck up! I'm going to fuck that blonde Adonis, and if you try to stop me, I will fucking barbeque you! You here me?!
Ren: ...
Ren: Okay...
~~~
Jaune: Ahh... This nice...
"Splash."
Jaune: Hmm? Oh, hey, Ren the waters... Why do you have a black eye?
Ren: Jaune... You may sleep with my sister... again...
Jaune: ...
Jaune: Okay...
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Pinky Promise | @black-sisters-microfic | Tedromeda-centric | Word Count : 695
Hogwarts, September 1964.
“You’re a mudblood, then?” Andromeda asked suspiciously. “I’ve never heard the name Tonks before.”
Ted Tonks, who had been unnecessarily cheerful up till this moment, dropped his smile immediately. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”
“Why?” Her brows pulled together in confusion. “It’s just a question. I won’t be offended if you ask me my blood status.”
Ted stared at her. “The difference is that you’re insulting me.”
“When did I insult you?” Andromeda threw up her hands in exasperation. “You’re the one who can’t answer a simple question!”
“Are you stupid?”
“Oh, clearly, I am,” she said. “Why else would I be wasting my time talking to you?”
Ted rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, I’ll let you go so you can continue your bullying.”
“What!?” Andromeda shrieked indignantly. “I have never bullied anyone, nor do I want to!”
“Didn’t you just call me a mudblood?” asked Ted, eyebrow raised.
She groaned in frustration. “I only asked if you were. And you still haven’t answered me.”
“I’m not a mudblood,” Ted said pointedly. “I’m a muggle-born.”
Andromeda blinked. “Is—what is wrong with you?” she asked. “That’s exactly the same thing!”
“No, it’s not!”
“A muggle-born,” she began through gritted teeth, “is someone who has muggle parents. A mudblood is also someone who has muggle parents. I fail to see the difference.”
“When you say mudblood, it sounds like you think you’re better than me,” Ted said. When Andromeda pursed her lips and didn’t make a comment, he scoffed. “You do think you’re better than me, don’t you?”
“Well … yes,” she slowly nodded. “But that’s because I saw you trip and fall over nothing. You were just walking, there were no obstacles, and you still fell.”
“That can happen to anyone!” he pointed out indignantly, face flushing a light pink.
“It has never happened to me.”
Ted glared at her, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Who the fuck cares—”
“Don’t use the word,” Andromeda hissed, eyes widening.
“What word?” Ted blinked. “Fuck?”
She nodded, distressed.
He huffed out a mirthless laugh. “So you can call me a mudblood but I can’t say fuck?”
Andromeda wanted to burst into flames right then and there because why was this boy being so difficult?
“It’s just a blood status,” she tried patiently. Maybe he doesn’t know since his parents are muggles. “So, you see I’m a pureblood because my parents are, too. If someone has one parent who’s not a pureblood, then that person is a half-blood. If you have both parents who are muggles, you’re a mudblood,” She held up her hand when he began to interrupt her. “It’s also called muggle-born, I know, but mudblood makes more sense. Pureblood, half-blood, mudblood.”
After that, Ted stared at her silently for a very long time. It seemed that he was contemplating his next words carefully, finally settling on, “We prefer to be called muggle-born because people use the other one in a bad way … it’s like how you don’t like hearing fuck because it’s a bad word. Mudblood is a bad word, too.”
Andromeda digested that, nodding slowly. “But then you can’t use that word, either.”
Ted’s face split into a helpless grin. “I promise that if you stop using the m-word, I’ll stop using the f-word.”
“Deal,” she nodded, satisfied with this. “Should we make an Unbreakable Vow?”
“What’s that?” he asked curiously.
“It’s an unbreakable vow,” she raised an eyebrow. “It means you make a vow that you can’t break.”
“I meant,” Ted rolled his eyes again, this time with a smile that seemed fond, “what would happen if I do end up saying fu—the word?”
“You’ll die,” she stated simply.
“Oh, good thing it’s not something dramatic and unnecessary.”
Andromeda laughed.
“We can do a pinky promise instead,” Ted told her. “It’s the muggle version of that vow, except you don’t die if you break it.”
“Then it’s not very binding, is it?”
He shrugged. “It’s about trust. You can break it, yes, but I would be trusting that you won’t … and vice versa, I hope.”
“Hmm,” she passed a small smile. “Alright. Let’s do this muggle promise of yours.”
#not andy mansplaining bloodstatuses lol#i’m extremely tempted to write a tedromeda long fic#canon compliant because i’m evil like that#would be black sisters centric too#& black family in general#let me know if anyone would be interested#andromeda tonks#andromeda black#ted tonks#tedromeda#the black sisters#black sisters#black sisters microfic#narcissa black#bellatrix black#regulus black#sirius black#dead gay wizards from the 70s#hp marauders#marauders
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The Company Series
Sister Reunion
Smut
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Chapter 21
2,040 Words
(Welcoming someone new is always nice, so is having a bit of fun. )
“Just one more, you almost got it.”
“Argh, fuck… I can’t! I can’t…”
“Come on, you can do it.”
“Shut up, you’re why I’m in this place.”
Jessica squeezes your hand with all her might. “Argh, I’m so tired…”
The doctor enthusiastically says, “Just one more, almost there.”
Jessica gives one final push, “Argh!”
You feel like your hand is about to break off from the force when you hear a loud cry.
“There you go, “Congratulations to the both of you.”
Jessica finally lets go of your hand and asks, “Doctor, how is he?”
“A perfectly healthy baby boy.”
“Thank god.” Jessica’s relieved after going through so much, “Can I hold him?”
“Of course.”
You watch as the nurse approaches Jessica and gives her the newborn. She holds her baby with precaution and moves the thin blanket covering him. The baby is so tiny, its eyes struggling to open.
“My… my baby,” she says, caressing his face. Hearing his mother’s voice, the newborn slowly extends his hand, wrapping its fingers around her thumb.
——-
It’s been a few weeks since the baby was born. You’ve spent most of your time with Jessica and your child. At first, it was a bit nerve-wracking as you didn’t know how to hold or even change the baby.
Luckily, you picked things up quickly and enjoyed your time with them. You watched as the baby would cry whenever he was hungry and Jessica would immediately feed him. You could feel the sudden change, the motherly warmth she displayed.
“How is it that I’m jealous of my kid?”
Jessica looks at you and says, “This is for the baby.”
“Come on, let me have a taste,” you say as a tease.
”Stop… don’t say that in front of the baby,” she says in a playful tone.
“Then let me put him to sleep.”
Gently, you put the baby in the crib after a few minutes in your arms. It’s hard work but something that you hope to get used to.
As you turn your head, you see Jessica in a relaxed position, her blouse unbuttoned and her breasts completely exposed. She waves you down, “Come on, get mommy’s milk.”
You hip your lips and walk towards Jessica, laying your head on her lap. She slowly kneads her right breast, causing a slight cream fluid to appear from her nipple. She teases you and says, “Come get your drink.”
“Are you for real?”
“You said you wanted some, so here, have a taste.”
There’s no need for second thoughts as you trace your tongue across her nipple. Jessica feels goosebumps from the sudden sensation but doesn’t stop you as she watches you take her breast into your mouth.
“There, there… does it feel good drinking mommy’s milk?”
You nod, increasing the pressure of your suckling. She caresses your head and slowly gets turned on by the position you two are in.
“Let’s have some fun while we’re at it,” she says, looking at your shorts.
She slowly moves her hand, unzipping your shorts, not wanting you to get distracted. She fishes out your limp cock and wraps her cold hands around your member. It startles you, the cold sensation, but you don’t lose your attention on her breast.
Jessica gets a firm grip and slowly pumps your cock, peeling your foreskin until your mushroom head is in full view.
Hungrily, Jessica says, “I missed this cock so much.” You slightly open your eyes and see Jessica licking her lip. “It’s so nice and thick.” You feel her grip get stronger as she pumps you, “I know you’re fucking other women while, in a way, you're a fucken man whore.”
All you do is listen as you continue to suckle on her breast. Her strokes intensify, using your percum as lube. You grunt, “fuck… keep going.”
As she increases her stroking pace, you hear the door suddenly open, “Unnie, I brought you something to eat…” Krystal’s eyes widen at the scene before her, “Umm… sorry…”
“Don’t, it’s fine, come in.”
Krystal walks into the room and tries to avoid eye contact, but the sound of your meat being stoked prevents it. She stands a few feet away, but Jessica calls out for her, “Come, remember this cock?”
Krystal shyly walks towards the both of you and just watches as her older sister strokes your cock. Her eyes focus on the large amount of pre cum leaking from your cock.
With Krystal just above you, Jessica grins and increases the intensity of her strokes. “Remember his cock inside of you? How his cum filled you inside.” Jessica watches as her sister’s breathing becomes heavy, the memory of her being taken by you. Krystal feels herself getting wet just thinking about it.
Suddenly, she feels a hot sensation on her face, which snaps her back to reality. She touches her cheek and looks at her finger, a semi-transparent liquid. “What the hell… did he cum on me?”
Jessica looks at Krystal and says, “Sorry, he couldn’t hold it any longer. Look, he’s still leaking.” Krystal remains silent, watching as the tip of your cock slowly releases a stream of cum.
“Be a good younger sister and clean him off, please.”
“What? Wh…why should I?”
“Please…. You know I would, but, you know…” and looks at you, still sucking on her breast.
“Fuck, fine… where’s the tissues…”
Jessica tries to hold her grin, “Oh, I didn’t mean to use tissues; that’s a waste. How about you use your mouth.”
“What? Why?”
“Don’t you know how precious his cum is?”
“But…”
“Do it…”
Krystal realizes how serious her sister is about this. She nods and slowly sits on the opposite side of Jessica. She gulps as she sees your cock covered in cum. Her body trembles as she puts her tongue on your slimy cum covered cock.
“Come on, Krystal, lick it off like a good girl.”
She whines, but deep down, she feels a sense of adrenaline from being treated so poorly. Slowly, she licks the base of your crotch, working her way from the bottom.
Eventually, after much licking, she gets to the tip of your cock. “Go on, have a taste from the source.”
Krystal grabs your cock and slowly presses it between her lips. Her mouth stretches as she takes most of your cock. She slowly bobs her head, remembering the previous time she had with you.
On the other side, you feel Krystal’s hot mouth on your cock and give a slight view. Jessica turns your cheek and kisses you, distracting you from what’s below. She suddenly whispers in your ear, “Go on, baby, have a little fun. She’s told me she can’t forget that one night.”
Your expression changes, and grabs Krystal’s head, “Your sister said you like my cock.” Krystal lifts her head and notices your smirk, causing her heart to suddenly beat faster.
“Come on, this cock isn’t going to suck itself.”
“Uh..uh…”
”Uh.. what? Go on.”
Krystal's body trembles, and nervously nods her head. She goes back to pleasuring your cock. She feels your gaze, knowing that you’re watching her as she goes down on you.
“Fuck… try taking more of it…”
She tries taking more of your member into her mouth, but it’s too much. Her mouth is already at her limit; she feels like her mouth would break. Krystal looks up and sees your face, “Go on…”
You get frustrated as Krystal takes her time and decides to give her a helping hand. Without her noticing, you put your hands around the back of her head and push her down. Krystal eyes widen by your sudden action. She feels her mouth stretch to its limit and tries to pull away but can't. It might just be a slight amount of pressure, but it’s too much for her small frame.
Krystal feels like her jaw is about to break, and a slight panic kicks in. She looks up at you and notices your face of satisfaction. She’d seen that face before with her boyfriend whenever she would go down on him and get upset when he would be forceful. With you, it was another story; she knew that you could be sweet based on your interaction with her sister but knows that getting you upset wasn’t something she would want to do.
She takes a deep breath and lets herself be used by your cock. You bob her head on your cock, feeling every part of her mouth and throat. You feel no resistance coming from Krystal and continue to enjoy yourself.
“Your mouth feels so good. You two are really sisters, haha.”
You press her head deeper, reaching her throat even more. The deeper you push, the more of a reaction you get from her. “I can’t stand it anymore, I’m going to fuck your face.”
Krystal’s facial expression changes as she feels a tighter grip around her head. She begins to gag as you thrust your cock back and forth. “Fuck, yes. That’s it.”
“Gawk, gawk, gawk…”
All you hear is the sound of your cock hitting Krystal’s throat, becoming a real-life fleshlight. Little by little, the lack of air causes her to panic; she puts her hands on your thighs and tries to push you off.
Instead, you hold her tighter than before, wanting to see her struggle with the remaining air she has. Krystal pushes you once more; she gives you a few smacks on the leg, signaling that she’s about to pass out.
She looks at you, and you can see the look on her face; she is begging you to help her. Words like, “Please, stop, I can’t breathe” go through her brain, but she can’t say out loud.
With her head on your hands, you feel Krystal tremble, her eyes twitching and starting to roll back. Suddenly, your balls explode and pour into Krystal's throat. You hold her with all your might as you pump her stomach full of your thick milk.
Krystal’s eyes finally roll back completely as her last remaining air runs out. “That was good,” you say as you pull out your flaccid cock out of her mouth.
Krystal slips off and hits the floor, your cum oozing out of her. You watch as there is no reaction from her. You kneel and grab her face, giving it a gentle slap.
*Cough, cough*
Krystal coughs heavily as her body takes in as much air as possible. “Look at the camera, little sis.”
Jessica snaps a series of pictures of her sister and says, “This is what you get for getting on my bad side.”
———
You’re returning to Korea after spending a few weeks with Jessica and your child. Currently, you’re in a conference call with Jieun to discuss the final details about the survival show that you and JYP plan on doing soon.
“Everything is going well with the preparations. You should have the most up-to-date information on the survival show.”
“Thanks for your hard work while I was gone.”
”It’s no problem, sir. I’m more than happy to step in when needed.”
There is a brief silence, “Something on your mind, Jieun?”
”Yes, sir. I have some news.”
”Go on.”
”I’m sending you a file through your secure phone.”
*Ding*
You grab your phone, see it’s a jpeg attachment, and download it. The screen changes, and you see Jisoo, Jennie, Rosé, and Lisa standing in a line, holding something in their hand. Your expression changes, “Is it what I think it is?”
”Yes, sir. Congratulations on breeding all four members.”
You can’t help but have a large smile and ask, “What was their reaction?”
”Jisoo and Jennie took it quite well. Lisa was a bit confused at the beginning but accepted the fact. Rosé, on the other hand, was bawling at the news and locked herself out for a whole day, but after a firm talk, I made her understand her position in the company.”
”Good…”
“I’m glad you’re pleased, sir.”
”Relay a message to them.”
”Of course.”
”Tell them that I expected a lovely welcome when I arrive.”
#kpop smut#male reader#TM smut#the company series#the company#company series#snsd jessica smut#jessica jung smut#krystal smut#Krystal Jung smut#g idol x male reader#idol x male reader#girl idol smut#kpop idol smut#idol smut#girls generation smut
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People shouldn't be too hard on Mon!
I absolutely love and is grateful of Freed's understanding and appreciation of the Jedi, apparent in the book, apparent in the interview he'd given for the book:
"For me, the excitement of the time period here, is that I tend to think of 'Star Wars' as a setting with plenty of room for grey area stories and moral ambiguity, but there are very clear lines of good and evil as well. There's no version of 'Star Wars' in which you look at the Emperor and go, 'Well, maybe he had some good ideas.' No, the Emperor is evil. And the Jedi and Luke at their best are good. Everything else exists somewhere in there. This is a period where the remains true but no one really knows that the Emperor is evil.
"As far as the public is concerned, this guy just won the worst war in living memory. The Clone Wars were this horrendous affair and Palpatine has put an end to it. Yes, he's declared himself Emperor but he's not the embodiment of all evil. There's not even a Death Star out there. On the absolute good side, the Jedi have sort of been tarnished in recent years. War scrapes away at the shining morality of any organization."
I think Freed really understands what Lucas meant when he said "The Jedi have been corrupted by this war."
...but I still don't hold it against Mon cause she's going through hell and she spoilerspoilerspoilerspoiler in the later half of the book. I think she's fascinating, wonderful, equally valid character with equally valid viewpoints as Bail within context of their own worlds and experiences in this novel.
The editor of the book said it best:
Bail – knows the truth about Palpatine, the Empire, and the fall of the Jedi. Caught between his commitment to truth and justice at any cost, and the duty he has to the daughter he’s been entrusted to protect.
Mon Mothma – a master politician, who believes – like so many – that opposing Palpatine is part of the regular game of politics. She doesn’t yet realize, Palpatine stood up from the game board years ago, and she’s playing against shadows.
Mon and Bail are allies, but not really friends (at this time). Padme was their link, and now, she’s gone. Where does that leave them?
For Mon and Bail especially, the secrets Bail holds that he cannot reveal leaves a gulf between them. And what does it mean when they find themselves at odds with each other, over truths they cannot speak?
prev anon) I'm talking about their different mindsets and experiences and viewpoints born from those and I'm not excusing Mon's... *spoilers* anyway I hope you enjoy the rest of the book! It's so nice seeing an author like Freed, who usually writes non-force side of sw, handling the jedi with such warmth, understanding and awareness
This was such a reassuring message to get, thank you! I've been avoiding spoilers for the book as best I can, but I'm only a quarter of the way through it and I was wondering how the various themes were going to go, but Freed's interview quotes and your comments have made me glad that I'm picking up what this book is putting down, because that's exactly how I've been reading it. (And why I'm hoping to encourage more people to read it--though, I will give a warning that this book can be uncomfortably prescient about current events in a way that I wouldn't say Alexander Freed Is A Witch, but that can be very hard to read about if you're not in the headspace to deal with a lot of reflections of the dumpster fire we're currently in.) As for Mon, I hope nobody comes down on her for this, because as much as I scream, cry, throw up, etc., over Bail's scenes, in general I lean a bit more towards Mon's way of doing things, because I think her approach is her answer to the question, "But what can actually be truly achieved?" That she is looking at an incredibly shitty situation with only shitty options and asking herself what can she actually get done, what does she have a snowball's chance in hell of success with? And she knows clearing the Jedi's name at this point in time is not on the table, not when there are a million other things that might actually do tangible good for the galaxy. And I don't disagree with that! I love the Jedi more than anyone, but clearing their name isn't more important that, say, trying to stop the Wookiees from being classified as a non-sentient species! Clearing their name isn't important enough to blow all your political capital and having nothing to show for it when there are people who you can help, with a chance that will actually succeed! Bail's idealism isn't stupid, he's incredible and the galaxy needs a shining light like him, it's necessary for the bigger hope for the future, we can't make it through the dark times without bright, shining hope. So even when they don't always think positively of each other, I never get the sense that Bail and Mon don't understand that the other is doing what they think is best. They just disagree on what that is. And it makes sense! Bail knew and was friends with the Jedi! He knows the truth about Palpatine and how important all that Force shit is to what's going on here! Mon is operating with the idea that this is a political battle--and she's not entirely wrong, she's necessary to the recovery of the galaxy, too, just as Luke is necessary to save the day, so too is Leia, and I sort of see that reflected in Bail and Mon's approaches--one is focusing on the mystical and one is focusing on the political and I think both are important here. So, I have nothing but hearts for Mon Mothma and what she's trying to do for the galaxy.
And I don't see them as antagonists here, I see them as two people who look at each other with the understanding that there is deep love and compassion for people in the other, that they want this other person on their side not just for political alliances but because they care, and maybe they want to scream in frustration that the other person can't see what they see, but I don't feel for a second that this is going to end with them anything other than them as friends. Their scene in Rogue One implies she knows about Bail knowing a living Jedi, if not directly knowing about Obi-Wan Kenobi, which isn't something he would tell just anyone. I'm hoping for the same with Saw, there's going to be conflict about their approaches, and I love that that's clearly a theme/why these three characters were chosen as the pillars of this book, that each of them are shown to have their reasons why and that each of them serve a purpose. I scream/cry/throw up more about the Jedi because that's the most fun for me, but I am enthralled with Mon's chapters just as much, the political tightrope she's on, and I would encourage people to read for those aspects just as much as I would encourage them for crying about the Jedi. ANYWAY, EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS BOOK FOR YOURSELF, I'm having fun with the snippets I'm posting, but the book is so much more than those things! It's one of the best SW for rounding out the characters and filling in the transitions between the movies and TV shows, but in a way that keeps the tension and emotional gut-punches despite that we know where it's going. ALSO, MON MOTHMA AND BAIL ORGANA ARE THE BEST, I'M WILLING TO FIGHT THE INTERNET OVER THIS
#lumi.txt#star wars#bail organa#mon mothma#meta#novels#novels: the mask of fear#(i wrote and queued this response before your later message btw so you came across perfectly well! <3)
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Something about the way Lumon is refining Severance with goal of having another suffer in a person's place, to keep up appearances rather than popping a sleeping pill on a plane or having an assistant send thank you notes. Helly R's creation being a perfect reflection of these ideals as a means to an end, a promo piece, doing a task Helena sees as unpleasant. Helena thinking she can hop into Helly's place for the parts of Helly's life that she wants. Of course she's fine with Helly being awoken when she's drowning, of course she takes Helly's place, to her this is what Helly is for. She sees no issue approaching Mark in that diner because to her they've met, innies aren't just "not a person" to her, they specifically insist in her mind to handle the boring or uncomfortable parts of HER life.
But then the CONTRAST of why all the working class folks got severed. Burt wanted to create a version of himself that was inherently and wholly good so he could spare a version of himself from suffering in hell. Mark wanted a version of himself free from his grief. Petey wanted to avoid the pain of his divorce. The outies creating innies to escape their suffering but in an entirely reversed way; they continue to suffer but ease their days by becoming an innie that doesn't. Devon telling innie Mark this directly. They escape their suffering not by subjecting the innie to it, but by letting the innie take over for a while. None of them were horrified by the OTC, Burt invited Irving for dinner because his innie loved him. Don't get me wrong, I think their severance is STILL UNETHICAL due to the innies' lack of human rights, but these people treat their innie with some amount of kindness and don't see them as a being there to shoulder their suffering. They genuinely want good things for their innies. Mark and Irving implicitly trust theirs (the keycard, the paintings, outie Irving acting like he didn't know about the OTC). And then there's Dylan who went in there hoping that innie Dylan might not be the failure he sees himself as, and has no qualms with his innie meeting his wife and knowing about his kids. He doesn't seem to begrudge his innie seeing the joyful parts of his life, it's like it's not even a notable event to him that Gretchen went there. And then there's Irving. Irving sent his innie there to hopefully figure out what Lumon is up to, Irving B is a person born for the goal of helping other innies, and he DOES. He gets Helly back from Helena. From Lumon's perspective Irving B is out of line, not behaving as an innie is supposed to, but from outie Irving's perspective Irving B is living up to his potential and is the kind of person he hoped he would be.
The absolute chasm between how Helena views Helly and the way all the others view their innies. They sent their innies to Lumon hoping they would be spared some of their suffering, and then those innies are unknowingly created something that is specifically designed for putting ones suffering on an innie. Much to think about.
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Can we talk about Buck's abandonment issues for a minute? You're probably thinking "Yeah his parents were neglectful and Maddie keeps running away." But there's so much more:
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First and foremost we see two scenes where his parents are giving him attention but only in a negative light. All the while they're not telling him WHY they're upset/disappointed in him.
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Then of course, there's the many times he's lost/had to say goodbye to Maddie. (Not pictured: when she ran away to Boston)
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Then we've got any and all friends/relationships he had when travelling from Pennsylvania to LA.
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Then we've got Abby leaving, without telling him beforehand, for an indeterminate amount of time. Leaving him to haunt her apartment and then forcing him to rescue her fiancé that she somehow acquired while never actually out right breaking up with Buck.
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Next is Redmond 'Red' Walker. The man Buck warms up to very quickly and whom he sees as his future self: a man who's truly, completely alone in the world.
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THEN his friends who only show up to ask for his sperm, make him be the go-between when they have a fight, and then make him deliver the baby and ruin his couch. And he held his biological child in his arms with tears in his eyes and just never saw him again. They never even mention it again.
GIVE THIS MAN A BABY
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Then, of course we have his older brother, Daniel. Basically the only reason Buck was even born. The person his family kept from him for nearly 30 years. And no, he didn't particularly abandon him but he was given all of this information in one afternoon and that's a lot to process.
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And we can't not mention Chris. He lost him once before, blaming himself the whole time. He wasn't even the one to find him in the end so he never really got that closure.
And we talk about how heartbroken Eddie was about Chris leaving but what about Buck?? He was basically a second father for him. Not only that, but he was the last one to speak to him before he walked out. Eddie threw a Hail Mary by calling Buck, asking him to do "what you always do." Only this time it didn't work and he 'failed.'
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We get another instance of Buck learning way too much information in one night: not only discovering that he likes Tommy, but the fact that he likes guys AT ALL. He goes through an identity crisis and has a bit of a panic attack. And what does Tommy do in response? Leaves him outside of the restaurant on their first date. Then, 6 months in, Buck thinks he's in love and asks him to move in, complete with heart eyes and oblivion. And instead of going their date that night Tommy decides to break up with him. I understand his reasoning: knowing Buck is just a baby gay and needs to find himself a bit more before settling down. But Buck is also a 3-braincelled puppydog when he's infatuated and he needs to be handled gently or else he's gonna use up the city's flour supply, baking away his temptations.
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And now he's losing his absolute best friend. The one he works with, eats dinner with, co-parents a child with, facetimes/texts/calls during the rare times they're NOT together. The one who restarted his heart after getting struck by the same bolt of lightning. The one who wasn't in his coma dream because without Buck his life went to shit. The one who immediately accepted him when he came out, encouraged him to give it a try with Tommy, and then supported him after the breakup when he was going through withdrawals. The one that he can't imagine his life without because he has become such an integral part of every aspect of his life.
I'm surprised this man has kept it together this long and hasn't shut everyone out completely. My heart hurts just thinking about it.
#911#911 abc#911 show#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buddie#christopher diaz#maddie buckley#maddie han#tommy kinard
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