#and now they will have their first child together

[berryfairyluvr]

hihi I loved the zayne princess treatment post could you do a sylus one as well please 🥹💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

sylus and his princess (queen) treatment

pairings: bf!sylus x fem!reader

warnings: none really, maybe minor mentions of some memories

a/n: thank you for the love and the request xx hope you enjoy <3

With a high bounty on his head Sylus has many enemies. Now having you as his beloved partner in this dangerous life (and all the ones before and after) your life has taken priority over his own. Despite your stubborn tendencies, he always has eyes on you ensuring your safety.

He not so slyly suggests you stay at his place 99% of the time as an answer to any of your complaints claiming he has 'this and that' but really it’s to keep you close by.

You insist on waiting up for him after his many late night outings much to his opposition. The lamps dim lighting catching his eye through the window each time he returns to find you cutely tucked into yourself sound asleep on the plush couch. He’d chuckle quietly and scoop you into his arms carrying you bridal style down the dark hallways to the bedroom.

You often complained about the coldness of his marble flooring even in socks. He’s made sure to have his staff keep you slippers in your most visited rooms ever since.

You thought his shower was huge before? He had it expanded and added multiple shower heads. When you asked why he responded with “Time is of the essence, now we can save it by showering together sweetie.”

He loves to accommodate you, adding a vanity to his bedroom, his and hers closet, shared armory access personalized just to your liking… The list goes on.

He’s discreetly possessive with his touches but it’s usually masked by his powerful demeanor. For instance, when the two of you are out he’s often guiding you on his arm or with his large hand splayed on the small of your back. At meals and meetings his hand finds its way to rest on your thigh.

He will not stand for any sign of disrespect towards you, those who haven’t learned that are met with something violently unpleasant. (Most times completely unbeknownst to you— Sylus makes sure you’re occupied)

You yap and he listens. Earnestly. And I mean undivided and devoted attention. He is so very fond of the way you light up like a child when speaking about your life.

His attention to detail is remarkable and he shows that in your everyday life. Whether it’s picking up on your favorite scent or noting what things make you relax more than others, he provides you with them as much as possible.

That travel magazine you’d been reading hadn’t gone unnoticed and to your surprise, he’d arranged for the two of you to escape reality and venture out for a vacation.

This man can compliment, and he can compliment goooood. He has no issue expressing his gratitude and respect for you through his words and oh boy is he good with his words.

Seeing you scared or fearful wounded him enough the first few times that it now melts him into a puddle at the first sign of worry from you.

this is his *please don’t be worried/upset* look

He doesn’t mind one bit helping you bathe and dress after a long day of work. He even brushes your hair.

Your words mean everything to him, he wants to hear it. (He praises you for it in return 🤭)

For all the excursions you often clung to him like a backpack atop his bike— he decided a spare motorcycle helmet just wouldn’t do for you anymore and had one made to match his.

His date at any and every auction, he revels in getting to flaunt you around all dolled up and on his arm. Some even say his demeanor changed since you began attending these events with him..

read zayne’s version here

requests open ❤︎

[theforestknowsmydreams]

there was even really big good stuff! it got a bit way too long, but it's also very happy, so i'm leaving it below

context: my family is messed up. i grew up with my mother, and she eventually forbid me from contacting my father (who then passed) and would never miss an opportunity to talk bad about his side of the family. before 2024, the last time i saw them was 2016.

i gathered all my courage, and sent them all an email. my dad's siblings, and his step-mom (my godmother). that email was also how i came out as trans to them all. i was terrified. not long after, they all responded. how they were so so happy to hear from me, how they would of course love to meet up someday, what a question, and using my correct name and pronouns.

we set the date for our first ever family reunion. late march, my father's birthday. it was so scary. i hadn't been to the city we were meeting in since 2018, when i (unsuccessfully) tried to locate my father's grave on my own. i was also going to share a hostel room with strangers, so you can imagine the sheer dread i felt.

coincidentally, a (at the time new) beloved mutual was going to be in the same city about a week prior, to go to see a band we both like live. he encouraged me to also go to the concert, and we shared a room in the same hostel i was gonna be in after he left the city again, so i got a chance to check out the vibes and get used to it.

the concert was absolutely amazing, i made a lot of new friends and acquaintances, just, 10/10. can't wait to do it again. it also gave me the confidence to later hit up my older brother, who lives in the same city and who i also had not seen since 2018.

my brother and i met, and it was perfect. now that we were both adults we could talk about topics he previously avoided, like our childhoods, things we went through, relationships, etc. we talked for over 6 hours until i went back to the hostel. both of us are still using the photo we took together as our whatsapp profile picture.

meeting my dad's family was a little more daunting, but the fear quickly disappeared. my godmother had brought an old photo album of me that my late grandfather had kept, and we went through the pictures together. there was a lot of pictures of me with my dad i had never seen, and they shared stories of my childhood with me that i didn't remember. we went to their graves (dad and grandpa are buried in the same plot) and i didn't have a breakdown. and for once i felt like they would be proud of me. we had food, and we talked, and my godmother gave me a book written by a trans person that she had found and read after i came out. it was great.

in october, i got an email. they were planning another family reunion because they liked the first one so much. this time it was only my father's siblings, because we were going to my late grandmother's home city (and my godmother is not in best health to travel). and, somehow, this one was even happier than the first one.

i was less scared, i guess. most of us stayed at the same hotel because it was only one night and not too expensive, but one of my aunts and her boyfriend (who i hadn't seen since i was a child) have a small camper so they didn't need to. we visited the old family grave and they taught me a lot about our family history, we walked about the city together, had dinner, all the good stuff.

and i felt... at home.

maybe not in that city, but with the people i was sharing this time with. i finally know what family is supposed to feel like. my mother's side of the family and i don't talk anymore, and while i deeply love my older brother, he moved out when i was 3, and we both got issues that make it harder for us to connect.

they asked about my transition, but avoided invasive questions. one time i commented on a mushroom growing in the park we were walking through and my aunt sighed and said "all the men in this family are obsessed with foraging". when i say or do something that reminds them of my father, they will stop and tell me, and ask if i want to hear a story about it.

one email. one email and countless hours or being too scared to send it, that's all it took. i am learning about my childhood, my heritage, my family, and what my future could be. this filled with love.

since then, i've made an effort to do scary things more often. at least when it comes to relationships. message my younger step-siblings that i haven't talked to since breaking all contact with my mother. say "i love you" more. ask friends to hang out more often (i'm still working on that one tbh). i emailed my paternal family for the new year and they said that "we are absolutely meeting again next year. maybe march again?"

it was scary but it was so worth it.

hey honest question, did anybody have GOOD stuff happen to them in 2024? cause it was really bad for me and for most people i know, so it would be nice to hear about anything that's been going WELL for any of you. even if it's small stuff. just to know there's light out there.

[mononijikayu]

is it new years yet? — nanami kento.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now." "Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different." “My darling, behave.” “No <3” ".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, secret coworker romance, co-workers to lovers, romance, fluff, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, creampie, p to v sex, stairwell sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my darling, babe, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, actor! nanami kento, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 6k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the first fic of 2025!!! this was specifically written because of a conversation between me and @midnight-138 on the afternoon of december 31st 2024. i started progress while on a bus on the way to my grandma's house and for a bit on the 1st. i still wanted to write more for it, but i had to stop because i caught a cold. i still have a cold. and i need a massage cause i feel my body hurt real bad, cause its working hard to save my life from this cold TT TT

but that being said, i shouldn't complain too much. good things have been happening to me despite my problems. i hope that good things continue to come!!! anyway, enough yapping, i hope you enjoy this little fic. happy 2025!!! may good things, good health and happiness come your way always this year!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS ALWAYS LIKE THIS WHEN YOU AND KENTO GET TOGETHER. But it was to be expected, since you graced the screens since you were a child. Nanami Kento was like that too. Of course, it wasn’t something of a brag at all. It was just your normal.

You were lucky, you were favored like that. Kento was favored just like that. Both of you were so beloved. And especially so, in a way that they end up hoping that you both were together. 

Ever since you worked with him on Jujutsu Kaisen all those years ago, it was just too strong — the chemistry between the two of you. It pulls people in for more. They wanted a story, they wanted something that could ease their days from the mundane boredom that it was to the fun, exhilarating excitement that comes with the tea in both of your private lives.

You didn’t mind, your company didn’t mind either. Neither did Kento or his side of the aisle. It helped that you were both good friends. You had met even before landing your roles on Jujutsu Kaisen, after all. So, the ‘will they, won’t they’ between the two of you really did help your careers.

But of course, just like in Gege–sensei’s scripts, some parts are sentences with too many blank pages. And the wholeness of your relationship with Nanami Kento truly only belonged to you and him. And you were not willing to expose it to the world. Not just yet.

Yet — this does not stop them from trying to do something about that.

The studio buzzed with activity as you adjusted the earpiece in your ear, stealing a quick glance at the veteran actor, singer, producer, writer and entertainment personality that is Nanami Kento.

He stood near the stage, his posture relaxed yet impossibly refined. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his tie a subtle but elegant shade of deep blue,everything about him just exuded a quiet confidence that made it hard for anyone to look away. 

You, however, knew better than to let your gaze linger too long. You knew too well that those are reserved for just him and you to interpret and to see. No one else should. You were as possessive about your private moments as he was. But you would never say that outloud and neither will he.

“Can you believe these two again?” a stagehand whispered slowly, behind you. It was still, of course, loud enough for you to hear. “It’s like they were made for this. If they don’t end up together after tonight, I’ll lose faith in love. Really!”

You bit back a laugh, focusing on your notes. No one knew the truth, after all. That you and Kento were already together had been for a while now. Not even your publicists or managers — hell, not even your entertainment companies, knew that this was for genuine actuality, a real thing now. But you and him liked it that way.

You had let your fans go wild with their theories over the years of course. Every post, every comment, every little interaction, every collaboration, every press tour — almost everything seemed to spark a new wave of speculation and fan shipping. 

For years now, the internet was rife with hashtags like #OurSecretLovers and #MrAndMrsNanami with fans pouring over every detail like it's an investigatory report they were doing, a documentary study. You had to admit, it was amusing at times, watching people try to connect dots they couldn’t see. 

Nanami Kento had a reputation for being rather serious, because he gets roles in that league often. But he was a silly little man, well your silly little man. And he often had the knack for finding the most random, yet oddly endearing, posts about the two of you on Twitter. During your five-minute breaks between shoots, when you were in separate rooms or on different sets, his messages would pop up on your phone, accompanied by a link and a deadpan caption.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now."

"Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different."

“My darling, behave.”

“No <3”

".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

You’d giggle to yourself, your shoulders shaking as you tried not to draw attention. It didn’t matter how serious the production you were working on either. He had a way of making you laugh even from miles away. And that relaxes you a lot.

When it was your turn, you’d send him TikToks. Fancam edits of the two of you together had exploded in popularity as of late, especially since you both played a married couple who were spies deceiving each other recently. People thought he looked so good, especially when he had his shirt off. You loved teasing him about it. After all, he was really pretty hot in those scenes. And if you were being honest, they did in fact rile you up.

"Look at us, babe." you texted once, attaching a video with dramatic lighting, a love song playing over clips of you two stolen from interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. "We’re icons."

His reply came almost immediately: "Icons, sure. But I’m just a guy who got lucky enough to be yours, you know?"

Those words made your heart swell every time. He’d always been effortlessly humble, never letting fame or admiration inflate his ego, even as his star rose. After all, you were the senpai here—the darling of the Japanese screen since childhood. 

You’d grown up in the industry, your name synonymous with household stardom. He, on the other hand, had been a late bloomer, starting as a teenager and building his career with quiet determination.

He never let the difference in your status get in the way, though. If anything, it only made him more in awe of you. He’d often remind you how much he admired your grace, how you’d navigated the pressures of fame with a poise that still left him speechless.

“You’ve been dazzling audiences since you were a kid.” he’d say, his voice warm with pride. “I’m just lucky to share the screen with you now and your life.”

And you’d roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Kento. You’re a fan favorite for a reason.”

“Maybe.” he replied with a soft smirk. “But you’re my favorite. And that’s what matters.”

No matter how busy your schedules got, those small exchanges, be it a funny link or a sentimental text, every bit of this kept you connected. It reminded you both that beneath the glitz and glamour, what truly mattered was the quiet, enduring love you shared.

You were out of your bubble soon enough when Kento suddenly caught your eye from across the room, offering a small, reassuring smile and then a small gentle nod. You felt your cheeks turn red but lowered your head immediately before anyone was to notice. He was too good at making you feel like this. And certainly so, he was hiding his smirk under his cue cards.

“Alright, places, everyone!” the director called.

You finally stood up from your chair, taking a deep breath and calmed down. You gave yourself one more look in the mirror, trying to make sure that your cheeks were natural now. When you felt like it was, you smiled at your manager who handed you the mic and swiftly thanked them. You went to your position. Kento soon approached, his footsteps purposeful but unhurried. 

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” you replied, flashing him a smile.

You were grateful for the reassurance. Even if you were already such a big name, you still did get nervous. And even more so, with such a big show like this — the New Year Countdown, of course you could feel yourself slipping.

The two of you took your positions on stage as the lights dimmed and the opening music swelled. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he fixed himself up, your pinkies touching. Even briefly, you could feel the warmth. He did that on purpose. You could see it in his caramel eyes. 

You let a brief smile echo on your lips. You gathered yourself as the lift came up slowly. When you both were in the sight of the gathered audiences and the cameras started to broadcast it all live, you both slipped effortlessly into your roles. After all, you both were professionals.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to this year’s New Year’s Eve Countdown!” you began, your voice bright and enthusiastic.

“Thank you for joining us as we bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.” Kento added, his tone smooth and polished.

Your banter flowed naturally, as always. That well beloved chemistry between you is still ever so undeniable. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him; he was your partner in every sense of the word. And that made your job tonight a little bit easier.

But of course, the real challenge was hiding the little moments that threatened to give you away that bit you kept so dear to you. You just can't help it when it comes to him. He has such a powerful pull on you and he knows it.

There were those little lingering glances, watching and feeling the way his fingers brushed yours when you handed him a card, the subtle softness in his smile when he looked at you. After all, this is the longest you could be together in your very busy schedules this year.

Still, you kept yourself in that cage. And so did he, despite his lack of patience when it comes to you and everything about you. As the night progressed, the energy in the studio grew electric.

Various music performances lit up the stage, and interviews with special guests kept the crowd engaged. Throughout it all, you and Kento remained the perfect duo—professional, poised, and completely in sync.

After nearly a few hours of composure, it came almost all too suddenly. In just a few moments, the final countdown approached, and the excitement was palpable. The two of you stood at the center of the stage, along with the other participants for this year’s event. In front of you, the crowd behind you cheering wildly, waiting excitedly for the new year.

“Here we go!” you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

Kento leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re doing great, darling..”

Your heart fluttered, but you kept your composure. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, babe.”

The countdown soon began.

You took a breath, looking at the screen.

You held your cue cards tightly to you.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

The lights soon dimmed, and the giant screen behind you displayed the numbers as they ticked down. The crowd’s voices grew louder with each second. The emotions coming through you were indescribable. Another year had gone by. But he was still by your side, like this. And all you could pray for as the time passed into a new age — that you would always be together.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Confetti soon rained down, and the studio erupted in cheers. You turned toward Kento, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you disappeared. The look in his caramel eyes was unmistakable—warm, tender, and filled with a quiet pride that made your chest tighten.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and you both turned back to the crowd, waving and smiling as the cameras captured every angle. People of course started to pay less attention to you both and the stage and more onto the fireworks now blurring the sky with its bright hues. You and Kento made a steady exit off the stage. 

“Another successful project, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence as you leaned against the wall.

Kento smirked faintly, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to loosen his tie. “They’ll be talking about this for weeks, you know?”

“And shipping us even harder, hm.” you added with a laugh.

“They’ll never know, though.” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You stepped closer, your hand finding his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the simple gesture grounding you in a way nothing else could. “They don’t need to, babe.” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “This is ours.”

Kento’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Happy New Year, my darling.”

“Happy New Year.” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You had thought it would end there, sweet and innocent. You had thought you both were safe for one more year. But when you two are together after a long time…..it was a whole new animal. And nothing can stop such a wave in high tide from occupying something whole. 

The next tithing you know is that the internet exploded the moment the photos dropped. Headlines blared across every platform, hashtags like #FINALLYOMG and #NewYearNewScandal trending within minutes after they were taken.

The pictures were pretty damning. They were blurry but unmistakably you, disheveled and wrapped in Nanami’s coat, your hair a mess. And him? A rare sight indeed.

It was none other than Nanami Kento, usually the epitome of composure, looking uncharacteristically undone. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the telltale bruises blooming on his neck left little to the imagination.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the coffee table as you buried your face in your hands. Beside you, Kento sat unbothered, calmly sipping his tea like the world wasn’t on fire—or at least your career’s PR team.

“I told you we should’ve been more careful, babe.” you muttered, your voice muffled by your palms.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quivering into a teasing smile. “You were the one who couldn’t wait with it, y'know?” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down with an elegant clink.

His tone was infuriatingly calm, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Who was it again, begging me to fill you up? By round two, you were going—‘Kento, I need you. Right here. Right now.’ and I was happy to heed the request like always.”

Your scarlet blush was immediate, your head snapping up to glare at him. “Kento!” you hissed, glancing around the living room as if someone could overhear, even though it was just the two of you. “Not helping!”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with the air of a man thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’m just stating the facts about, I'm the same.” he said with a shrug, his smirk widening as you shot him another flustered look. "That's not a bad thing."

Your phone buzzed again on the table, your manager’s name flashing on the screen. You sighed, picking it up only to immediately huff and toss it back down. “This is really…” you trailed off, searching for the right word but settling on a frustrated groan instead.

“Chaotic? Consequential? Hilarious?” Kento offered, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You shot him a glare that was far more affectionate than threatening. “Horrible. That’s the word. This is horrible.”

He chuckled, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on your knee. “Darling, it’s not the end of the world. Scandal or not, we’ll deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say.” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Your team probably thinks this is great publicity for your brooding, mysterious heartthrob image. Meanwhile, I’m the one getting texts about how unprofessional it looks for ‘Japan’s sweetheart’ to be caught sneaking around with hickeys and wearing her boyfriend’s coat.”

“Unprofessional?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “It’s not like we committed a crime. We’re adults in a committed relationship. And in any case my darling....….” he added, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You look adorable in my coat.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me. Very much." he quipped, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from your lips.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest, instead letting your head fall onto his shoulder with a sigh. “Next time, though….really.....” you muttered. “We’re finding a stairwell without photographer cameras.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Noted.”

As you leaned against your lover, the memory hit you both like a freight train, vivid and unrelenting. It had started innocently enough—or as innocently as it could between the two of you. The countdown show had gone off without a hitch, and the studio was still buzzing with post-show chaos. 

You both talked for a bit, had a cute moment and then went back to your professional mode when everyone started to surround you both again. It was like a switch, and it was easy. No one suspected a thing.

You went ahead into the dressing room, you talked with everyone. You’d been polite and professional, thanking the crew and chatting with some of the guests. But the moment Nanami Kento had caught your eye as you left the green room, something in his caramel gaze had made your pulse quicken.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Between his packed schedule and yours, the countdown project had been the only excuse to be in the same room together. The public facade you maintained only added to the frustration. Every fleeting touch, every shared look—it all built up, an unbearable tension neither of you could ignore.

So, when he’d quietly grabbed your hand and guided you down a quiet, rarely-used stairwell in the building when no one was looking, you hadn’t protested. You were excited, happy even. This was the chance to feel him again this close to you. 

And you were glad for that opportunity. You could feel his touch be so genuine and warm despite the heavy chill in the air, and the firm grip of his fingers around yours sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Darling, I missed you, really.” he murmured as soon as you were alone.

His voice low and rough, filled with a longing that made your knees weak. His hands cupped your face with a reverence that always left you breathless, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was searing, his lips melding with yours as though it had been an eternity since your last stolen moment together.

The cold winter air bit at your exposed skin, but his touch set you alight. His coat had slipped from his shoulders in a quiet, unspoken gesture, draped over yours as his lips moved to your neck. The kisses were hot, open-mouthed, and deliberate, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin before his teeth grazed your pulse.

“Kento, babe….” you gasped, your voice trembling from a mix of the frigid air and the heat of his attention. Your fingers clutched the lapels of his suit, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensations.

“Shh, just enjoy it......” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. 

His hands slid down your sides, firm but gentle as they gripped your thighs. Without hesitation, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against the wall. The rough texture scraped against your coat, but you barely noticed, too focused on the way his body pressed into yours.

His strength always caught you off guard, even after all this time together. Your eager legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as he stepped between them, his body fitting against yours like a missing piece.

“Babe!” you breathed again, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

He kissed you like a man starved, his lips leaving your neck to reclaim your mouth. The intensity of it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to him. He was hungry, perhaps even more than you were. But you had expected that. He has a habit of yearning to touch you a lot.

“I hate not being able to touch you, with all the schedules we fucking had.” he muttered against your skin, the words tinged with frustration and longing. “Hated every fucking minute of it……”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you tugged him closer. “Then don’t stop, babe.” you whispered, the plea soft but desperate. “Cause….I need you badly too. I need you so bad in me—”

He growled softly, the sound rumbling against your throat as his touch shifted. One hand remained steady on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, while the other slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers were deliberate, pushing aside the delicate lace of your panties with practiced ease.

When his fingers slipped through your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall. He groaned softly, the sound low and satisfied as he gathered your arousal, his touch teasing and unhurried.

“You’re already so ready for me, aren’t you, my darling?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers moved with precision, finding the spot that made you arch into him.

The cold air around you was a stark contrast to the heat building between you, the quiet of the stairwell broken only by your uneven breaths and his whispered praises. It was reckless, indulgent, and utterly intoxicating—just like him.

“Kento, babe….oh!” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers continued their unrelenting rhythm. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure began to build within you.

“Shh, darling.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear before trailing back to your neck. His voice was low and soothing, laced with a quiet intensity that only made your pulse race faster. “You’ll have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape as he added a second finger. The stretch was delicious, his movements slow and deliberate, coaxing you higher with every stroke. His thumb brushed over your sensitive bud, and your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s my good little lover, hm? My only beloved darling.” he murmured, his praise sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. “So perfect for me.”

Your fingers slid up into his messy blond hair, tugging gently as your body arched against him. The rough texture of the wall behind you was a sharp contrast to the soft warmth of his touch, grounding you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Kento, please, b–babe….oh!” you breathed, the words barely audible as your head tilted back, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. “M–more…..more!”

He hummed in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient, aren’t you? Greedy too.” he teased, though his fingers quickened their pace, curling just right to hit the spot that made your breath hitch. “I missed seeing you like this, so needy for me.”

The heat pooling in your core intensified, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “I’m—” you began, but the words dissolved into a strangled gasp as he pressed his thumb harder against your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, pretty for me, so fucking pretty." He says, coaxing you like a pied piper. His voice was low and intoxicating. Everything about it just burns you as much as his touch did. "I’ve got you. Always.”

With one final stroke, the beautiful echo, that blossoming coil inside you just snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body tensed, your thighs tightening around his waist as you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the cry that escaped your lips.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing their movements as your body shook with aftershocks. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his lips pressing soothing kisses against your temple.

When you finally relaxed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were soft, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and satisfaction that made your chest tighten.

“Better?” he asked, his tone light but tinged with affection.

You nodded, still too dazed to form words. He chuckled, adjusting his hold on you as he gently set you back on your feet. Your legs wobbled like jello against him, and he immediately steadied you, his hands firm but gentle on your waist.

“Careful, darling.” he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, babe.” you managed, your voice breathless but steady. “More than fine.”

His lips quivered into a soft smile, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good.”

As the reality of your surroundings sank back in, you couldn’t help but glance around, the abandoned stairwell suddenly feeling far less private. “We should… probably get back, babe.” you said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It’s getting pretty late.”

He followed your gaze, his expression calm and unbothered. “Let them wonder where we went.” he said simply, shrugging off the concern as he adjusted his coat around your shoulders. "It's none of their business."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the mischievous glint in his eyes stopped you cold. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “After all… I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he was guiding you gently back against the wall. His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, igniting the fire he’d only begun to stoke. His hands trailed down your sides, their warmth chasing away the chill of the stairwell as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Kento, babe.” you murmured, a weak attempt to regain your composure, but he silenced you with a kiss that left no room for argument. 

“I missed you, a damn whole lot.” he said, his voice low and filled with longing as his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly once more. "Like I always do."

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your heart pounding as the desire you’d both tried to suppress flared back to life. He pressed against you, the hardness of his arousal undeniable even through the fabric of his pants. The teasing grind of his hips against yours drew a gasp from your lips, and he smirked, his composure slipping just enough to show his need.

"Really....." Kento effortlessly whispered to you, his voice vibrating onto you like a wave crashing onto you at sea. "We shouldn't schedule much this New Year, hm? So we can be together."

"Hm.....Kento." You echo back to him, intoxicated by his touch. "'ake time....for me, okay? I'll.....I'll do the same."

“That's the plan already, you know?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he shifted, his hands tugging at the barriers between you. “Let me take care of you, like I always do.”

Soon after that, you could feel the wet, thick head of his member pressed against your entrance, the heat and pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as he began to push in slowly, his movements deliberate, almost reverent.

It was too good, too damn easy to fall into a high to. You could feel the stretch inside of you, it made you so full. Everything about it was intoxicating, your body yielding to him as he filled you inch by inch, your walls clinging to every part of him like he was made to fit. 

It was like he was trying to make a home inside of it. Inside of you. And it just made you feel so good. A deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he buried himself deeper.

“Darling.” he muttered, his voice strained and low. “You feel so perfect.”

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as your body adjusted to the delicious fullness. The sensation was overwhelming, the slight ache quickly giving way to a heat that spread through your entire body.

“Kento.” you breathed, the sound a mix of plea and surrender.

His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pulled back slightly before thrusting forward again, the motion slow but unyielding. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and the friction only made you crave more.

“God, this is so…..you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with need. “You’re so tight. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go slow like this with you.”

“Don’t, babe.” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t hold back.”

His carmel eyes darkened almost instantly at your words, a flicker of something primal overtaking his usual control. With a growl, he began to move in earnest, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the stairwell, a symphony of shared desire that neither of you could hold back.

The rough texture of the wall behind you only heightened the sensation, grounding you as he took you apart piece by piece. You could feel your back burn against the concrete wall as you throw your head back against it. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his body claimed yours.

“Darling, my pretty baby darling.” he murmured against your lips, his voice ragged and desperate. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

“Yes, babe. Yours….O–oh…only! Only yours!” you managed to gasp, your head tilting back as he kissed along your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. 

The coil in your core once more tightens with every spark you feel as he pushes deeper over and over in a fast pace. Everything about the pleasure you feel keeps building to an almost unbearable peak. It just felt too good. He felt too good.

His pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as his control began to slip. One hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your sensitive nub and rubbing it in quick, precise circles.

You cried out, your body arching into him as the tension finally snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly around him as your release tore through you.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m close!” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he shuddered against you, his body going taut as he spilled himself inside you.

For a moment, the only sound was your shared, labored breathing, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your thighs and waist, grounding you both.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern despite the lingering haze of pleasure in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gently setting you back on your feet. His hands remained steady on your waist, holding you as your legs wobbled beneath you. You leaned into him, your breath uneven, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just transpired.

But that wasn’t the end of it, of course. 

The hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded, and neither had yours. The raw desire that simmered between you was far from sated, and you both knew it. Kento’s hands lingered, his thumbs brushing soft, teasing circles against your hips as he studied your flushed face. 

“I just think that I…..” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “I still want more.”

You barely had time to process his words before your lover’s lips were on yours again, roughly consuming you in a kiss that was as demanding as it was all encompassing. Your hands quickly found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. Your body instinctively responds to the magnetic pull of his, over and over.

“We shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, though your voice lacked conviction. “It’s going to make people suspicious.”

“Probably not.” he agreed, his smirk returning as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, trailing up your thighs. “But repercussions are damned when we’re hungry. I can’t stop. I know you won’t too..”

The wall pressed against your back once more as he claimed you all over again, the cool stairwell air doing nothing to cool the fire that raged between you. It was reckless, but neither of you cared. Not here, not now. Hunger demanded to be fed, and with Nanami Kento, you were always insatiable.

After a while, you were both removed from the plane of normalcy and you were both panting with joyous weariness. He presses a kiss against your jaw as you keep a steady bite on his neck. He grumbles against you as he gathers himself from seeing stars. You follow him soon after. You released his neck and started kissing his lips once more. 

When you both found yourself satisfied, you both started to make yourselves as presentable as possible. Well, at least what remains presentable and salvageable for both of you. Kento ripped too much of your outfit as much as you did. Still, you both did not care. 

“We should get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his tone tender as he placed his coat on your shoulders and adjusted it tenderly on you, to keep you warm. “I’ll call my car and then we’ll just hop in there. We’ll go to my hotel, okay?”

You nodded again, your cheeks flushing as the reality of your surroundings began to sink in. But as he laced his fingers with yours and led you back toward the main building, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of contentment.

Of course, things too did not go the way you both wanted once again. You didn’t know that there were many SNS photographers  and gossip journalists waiting to catch some other celebrity in that area where Kento’s car was going to be. And that’s just how you were caught, not thinking about the logistics of it all. 

But how could you? It was New Years. 

You just got mindlessly blown with really, really, really good sex.

And you were together once again with your lover.

How could you think about anything else after all that? 

Now, back in the present, the two of you sat in the quiet of your shared apartment. Nanami Kento’s calm demeanor was a stark contrast to your frazzled nerves. You sighed, looking up to your lover who presses a kiss on your forehead.

“You know this is going to be everywhere, babe.” you said, gesturing toward your phone.

He set his tea down and leaned back, regarding you with a look of quiet amusement. “Let them talk, darling. It was bound to happen eventually.”

You groaned. “Eventually I didn't need to include hickeys and a ruined coat. And oh god….. was I leaking your cum?” 

You took your phone once again to inspect, but your lover took your phone with his free hand and put it away. You looked at him, almost sulky as one would look as a child. He laughs. He presses another kiss on your hair. Kento couldn’t help but smirk. Both acts had made your heart skip a beat. 

“You look good in my coat though. I could hardly care if my cum was dripping out, darling.” he said simply. “I’m pretty sure I look just as ridiculous. You mauled my neck so happily after that first round.”

“You  do look like you’ve been ravaged.” you shot back, though your cheeks burned at the memory. “I mean, it made sense at the time….I was hungry.”

“Hm, I don’t blame you.”

You sighed. “We’ll contact our PR and everyone later, okay?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm.”  he said softly, his voice filled with the steady reassurance you’d always loved about him. “We’ll be fine, okay? I don’t care as long as I am with you.”

You sighed, leaning into his warm touch. “I guess the secret’s out, huh?”

He nodded, his gaze warm. “I don’t mind. As long as we're happy together, I say let them say whatever they want.”

You blinked at him. “You think so?”

“Hm.” He smiles at you. “Because no one will truly know who you are to me. That’s only mine. They’ll have a headline, but I’ll have the whole spreadsheet.”

You feel like your heart is melting with his tenderness. “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your lips, smiling wider at you.

And just like that, the storm outside felt a little less overwhelming.

[gffa]

Hi, I'm both curious and interested in starting a fight among the Batman fandom

There's an old joke where the Batmobile is failing to start. Batman says:

"Robin, can you check the battery?"

To which Robin says:

"What's a tery?"

I was just curious which Robin this would have been. Funniest and most likely answer are both acceptable

Here's my answers: All of them made this exact joke. Dick came by it honestly, that's his sense of humor, especially because he likes needling Bruce for a reaction, he is never as proud of himself as when he can get Batman to laugh and dumb jokes are his FAVORITE way of getting a rise out of the man. Jason would make the joke, because he was trying to live up to Dick Grayson's legacy and mold himself in the same image, so he made jokes that weren't really his style sometimes and it was really cute, because Bruce would smile, but the times he would get a real laugh out of Bruce were when he made his own style of jokes. Tim would do it because he was beating Nightwing to the punch on a joke, because Tim Drake may be a Dick Grayson stan first and a human being second, but that often came out in the form of, "I must steal my favorite human being's joke So He Will Approve Of Me." This 100% works, Dick acts offended that his line was stepped on, but he laughs and noogies Tim's head because that's now his baby brother. Steph would do it because she's trying to fit in at the time, trying to live up to the mantle of Robin, because she's seen Tim step on people's jokes and how it's a good ice-breaker and she's really working hard at this. Damian would do it because Damian is The Funniest Child Alive Actually and will whip out a joke when you least expect it, but also because that child's foundation as a superhero was 100% Dick Grayson and sometimes he misses Dick so he makes Dick's stupid joke for him. Ultra Hot Take: Sometimes all five of them try for it at once and NOBODY is happy at the ensuing chaos, because someone has to Win at the joke, because if you're all reaching for it, nobody is annoyed. EXCEPT when Bruce makes an annoyed little "Hn." noise and then they all swivel their heads towards him at the exact same speed and light up with unholy glee and start chirping it on repeat. "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" "What's a tery?" on repeat for a solid 30 seconds like a group of parrots in an echo chamber. It's uncanny and Bruce hates it, but, hey, it's teamwork and he wanted them to work together better, don't punish the behavior you want to see, Bruce.

[onlymingyus]

Deny (Teaser)

pairing; kim mingyu x f!reader x jake sim (enhypen)

genre; smut (minor dni), mild angst, toxic themes, fluff, comedy

summary; When your boyfriend's stepbrother spends the summer with you things get a lot more interesting for you and a lot more complicated for him.

content warnings; reader is around the same age as mingyu, jake is younger, college au, stepsibling au, poly themes, "cheating" themes, teasing -- eating/drinking, alcohol, sunghoon/heeseung side characters, other cameos mentioned.

smut warnings; Dom!mingyu, sub!reader, sub!jake, mild stepcest, some mild mlm, semi-protected sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, pet play (names and degradation), fingering, oral (m & f receiving/giving), masturbation, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, purposeful exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, impact play, cum eating, praise/degradation, pet names/degrading names, dumbification, panty fetish, sub/Dom themes -- patreon bonus has it's own warnings

w/c; 27.1k and some change (34k ~ patreon) [3.2k this teaser]

a/n; thank you to @junkissed for proofreading for me and as always giving me the courage to finish something when i feel like it's going to crash and burn. this one is a lot and i didn't mean for it to be as long as it is. it's very dirty and heavy on kinks. if this isn't for you, i completely understand. i just let myself enjoy writing and getting into a story, but i do hope if you read you enjoy it!

this fic will be released 1/13 to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

You weren’t exactly sure what you expected when you got home. Mingyu was bound and determined that you were not going to change your routine just because Jake was staying with you and him, but you couldn’t help feeling a little nervous as soon as you stepped through the door and saw the extra pair of shoes. Taking a deep breath, you shake out your hands and nod once before dropping off your purse like you always do and jogging up the steps, only stopping long enough to glance towards Jake’s room, seeing the door closed. 

Another thing you had promised to do was not to crowd him or make him feel like anything was expected of him. If he wanted to hang out with you and Mingyu, he was welcomed to, but neither of you would force it—but as you looked at his closed door, you couldn’t help but think of the sweet boy that you had last seen before he started college. Swallowing hard, you press your lips together and work up a bit of confidence before letting out a breath as you turn towards your bedroom. “Hi, Jake! I’m home.” 

Glancing up from his laptop as he hears your voice, Jake’s eyes widen when you say his name. He has to instantly fight the urge to slide off the bed and go find you, but that wouldn’t be very chill of him and Jake Sim was a chill guy—at least that was what he was reminding himself as he steadied his breath and stared at the video on his laptop screen. “I—ok!” 

You’d take it. That was better than nothing; at least you knew he was alive behind the door. Mingyu said he wasn’t your doll, that he wasn’t a child you were taking care of, but right now he could have fooled you into thinking he was the same kid that you knew back when you first got together with Mingyu. “‘Kay…cool. Gyu will be home in like an hour; he’s bringing home some dinner. I’m gonna shower and then watch something downstairs.”

What did you want him to say? What was Jake supposed to reply to after learning that information? He already knew that his brother was picking up food, but learning that you were going to shower and watch television—did you want him to watch something with you? By the time that Jake decides that maybe that’s what you were hinting at, it’s been long enough that he’s heard the water turn on and then turn off; your shower finished before he is on his feet and pacing at his door and opening it, trying to keep his mouth closed.  

Fuck. Holy shit. No picture could do you justice. Especially not when you were standing in the hall in short cotton shorts that barely peeked out from under what was probably one of Mingyu’s shirts as you ran a towel over your head to dry off. 

Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you hum in surprise and out of happiness that Jake decided to come out of his room, but it’s short lived when you see him for the first time. What happened to the awkward, almost geeky-looking kid that you knew? This wasn’t that kid; he had been replaced by someone who had grown into his features and his looks seemingly overnight—Mingyu had been right, he wasn’t a kid anymore. “Oh… Hi—hey Jake. How was the bus here?” 

Taking a breath to get over your nerves, in an attempt to push past the shock of seeing Jake all grown up, you toss the used towel into the hamper and flash him a sweet smile before heading towards the stairs, not waiting for him to answer you. It was better than staring at him like an idiot and you could hear him following behind you down the stairs, his accent a bit thicker as he swallows hard, letting his eyes travel along your backside. 

“It was alright. Uh, thanks—thanks for letting me stay here and for all the stuff in my room.” There was more that Jake wanted to say but as he worked his eyes back up your legs, moving into the living room, you turned to sit on the couch and he had just made it back to your stomach before looking away quickly.  

“No biggie. I wanted you to be comfortable while you were here with us.” You pull your legs under you as you reach for the remote on the coffee table. Tilting your head, you watch Jake stand awkwardly between the living room and the kitchen as you pat the couch beside you. “You can sit. Here, or if you want the recliner. Your brother loves the reclin—” 

“Here’s good, Y/N... Thanks.” Plopping on to the other side of the couch, Jake holds his phone tightly in his palm as you study him for a long moment before finally looking towards the television and scrolling through apps. When you finally settle on a show, Jake lets out a breath and relaxes into the cushions, biting at his bottom lip as he scrolls through his phone, seemingly not paying attention to the television in front of him. 

Jake: I’m not gonna make it dude. SOS 

Hoon: What’s up? 

Clearing his throat, Jake glances at you from the corner of his eye as he shifts on the couch so that he can rest in the corner to get more comfortable. Watching you over his phone, he carefully takes a picture of you letting out a breath before switching his phone back over to his messages, sending the picture to Sunghoon and waiting for his reaction. 

Hoon: Nothing can be done. RIP 

Hoon: Where's Mingyu? 

Jake: Not home yet. She wanted me to watch something with her. He’s gonna kill me right? Seeing her dressed like that with me here

Hoon: In the ground, 6 fuckin feet 

Jake: Worth it�� 🥵

Pushing the door closed, Mingyu leans his head towards the sound of the television as he balances the takeout bags in one hand and his work bag in the other. Normally you’d be at the door saying hello to him but maybe you just hadn’t heard him come in? “Baby?” 

Jake watches, a small disappointed breath slipping from between his lips when you jump up from the couch so fast for his brother. Of course you would; it was stupid for him to think otherwise. You had been with his brother for years; his family was expecting Mingyu to put a ring on your finger at any point now, but that still didn’t make it any less disappointing to watch you whine his name as you moved through the kitchen towards him, leaving Jake behind. 

“Hi! Oh my god, the food smells so good, I’m so hungry.” Moving to your toes, you kiss Mingyu before taking the takeout from him. “I missed you.” 

Mingyu doesn’t even try to hide the grin on his face when you fawn over him. You acted like his pretty little wife already, even without a ring on your finger. He loved getting a kiss from you when he got home from work and hearing about your day, but today was already different as he followed you into the kitchen after putting his bag with yours in the foyer. Nodding to Jake on the couch, Mingyu’s brow raises as he lets out a soft breath, sliding a hand over your hip. “Hey, Jake. Hungry? I got pasta; it’s Y/N’s favorite.” 

It was clear that you and Mingyu, but mostly you, were trying to keep the vibe chill and not let any tension build, but that felt almost impossible. Swallowing hard, Jake runs his fingers through his hair, drawing your attention to the longer length ending at the nape of his neck. 

"Uh, yeah, I’m hungry. Pasta is great.” Sliding from the couch, Jake puffs up his cheeks with a deep breath before sitting at the kitchen island while you work to plate some of the pasta for each of you. “How—um, was work okay, Mingyu?” Jake wasn’t great at this, and neither was Mingyu. It wasn’t either of their fault, just a product of their mistimed relationship. 

Jake had another brother; he lived with his mother back in Australia. Mingyu’s little sister was his pride and joy, even if he rarely got to see her as she studied abroad. To you, that meant that Jake and Mingyu should have tried to make the most of their situation, but it wasn’t something you’d ever really understand. It was easier for them to talk about sports, music, chicks—nothing deep like real brothers, and that was okay for the most part in both of their opinions. 

“It was good. Same shit, different day.” Smirking a bit at his own words, Mingyu sighs when you give him a disappointed glance. He knew what it was about; he wasn’t trying hard enough. “I mean, I—it’s just a lot of office politics and shit, dude. It’d bore the fuck out of you. Tell me about school. How are your friends? How’s the girls?” 

That was more like it, and yet at the mention of girls, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Sliding a plate in front of Jake, you almost coo in appreciation when he smiles at you and thanks you under his breath. “‘Course Jakey. Eat up…” Putting a plate in front of Mingyu, you pick up your own fork, trying to keep up with their conversation, even as Jake stumbles over his words hearing you call him the nickname you used to call him before he left for college. 

“It’s—ya know, school. It’s okay.” Pushing the fettuccine around on the plate, watching the sauce spread along the ceramic. “I—my friends. They’re good. Sunghoon stayed close for the summer too. He might come by some time if you guys don’t care.” 

Before Mingyu can even speak, his mouth full of fettuccine alfredo, you wipe your lips and hum in appreciation. “Of course. It’s your house too, Jakey. As long as you are staying with us, you don’t have to ask things like that, okay?” 

That was going to be easier said than done, especially when Mingyu sighs and gives you a long look before faking a smile at Jake. “Yup, what Y/N said.” Taking another bite of pasta, Mingyu sighs out of his nose as he chews, wanting to keep the conversation lighthearted. It was almost as if Jake was avoiding things and like he was embarrassed. He had never been embarrassed to talk about girls before. “Glad classes are going well, but that’s not all uni is for. Spill, dude, got a girlfriend we should be worried about you inviting over too?” 

Jake had been doing okay with the conversation. You were so sweet,besides being incredibly distracting by just existing. He was able to eat and when he had started to take a big drink of his water, that’s when Mingyu asked him that question. Coughing as he feels the water start to burn his chest, Jake shakes his head and blinks moisture from his eyes as you look at him with concern, while Mingyu just chuckles and leans over to smack him on the back hard. 

“Breathe… Jesus christ. You alright? The conversation that difficult to—” 

“No! I—no, Mingyu. I don’t have a girl—girlfriend. I wouldn’t invite a chick over here anyway. That’s not—that’d be rude to Y/N, right?” Shaking his head, Jake looks down, avoiding Mingyu’s eyes, but mostly yours as you tilt your head. 

“‘Kay, no girls. I’m picking on you, Jake.” Picking up the beer in front of him, Mingyu takes a long sip before clearing his throat and sitting back to watch his stepbrother push his food around a bit more. "But I appreciate you worrying about Y/N and if she’s comfortable with who you might bring around. You know—” Meeting your eyes, Mingyu sits forward, resting his forearms on the countertop, even though he hears you sigh, having a feeling where this is going. “This might be a good time to go over the house rules.” 

Jake should have known it wasn’t going to be as easy as just showing up and getting a room. Swallowing hard, he nods before taking another sip of his water, hoping it will calm his growing nerves. 

“Cool. First, like Y/N said, you can have guests over; we apparently don’t care, however—” 

It sounded a lot like Mingyu cared and it was making Jake wish he could crawl into a hole. 

“Just don’t have parties in our house. I know I sound like Mom and your dad, but sorry to be an asshole. You don’t pay the mortgage, and once you do pay one, you’ll get it.” 

Leaning your head back briefly, you sigh and slide off your chair, feeling full from not only the food but Mingyu’s bullshit. You loved him completely, but you knew this whole dominance act was coming and it was the one thing he asked for you not to get in the way of. It was taking everything in you not to call him an old man and to tell him it was probably getting close to him for him to take out his dentures and crawl in bed. He treated Jake more like a child than you were. 

“Two, I know you have your part-time job. I don’t expect you to pay for anything while you are here, however—” 

Oh my god. Jake was literally sinking down in his chair as his stepbrother kept saying however with each rule. Glancing towards you, he says how you were mocking Mingyu and that was the only thing keeping him sane, though it was almost causing him to crack a bit of a smile. 

“If there are special things you want to eat, buy them yourself. If you see something with my name on it, or Y/N's, use your brain.” Furrowing his brow at Jake’s shit eating grin starting to spread across his face, Mingyu glances in the direction that his brother keeps looking only to see you mouthing along with him, mocking him. “If you two are done? I’m trying to be the fucking responsible one and lay some foundational rules so this house doesn’t become chaos and my girlfriend and brother seem to think I’m a jo—” 

“No! What! No, man. I’m listening. No parties. Get my own snacks. Don’t eat shit with your name on it. See!” Sitting up quickly, Jake slides his hands over his knees and grimaces into his smile as Mingyu stares at him. 

You, on the other hand, just laugh and hold up your hands as if you are surrendering. “I’m sorry, baby. Go back to your rules. I’ll leave you and Jake to talk and finish cleaning up.” 

Watching you move out of the room with a smirk on your face, Mingyu sighs and shakes his head. “Brat… Anyway, I’m glad at least one of you was listening to me. That brings me to the most important rule, alright?” 

Jake had been watching you leave too. He couldn’t help it. You were in those little shorts and they hugged your leg right under your ass cheeks. God, how was Mingyu okay with you wearing them with him around? This was crazy! Hearing Mingyu say his name, Jake blinks and meets his brother’s eyes, nodding along with him. 

“Don’t make Y/N clean up after you, got it? She already is trying to baby you. She thinks you’re still a kid.” Waiting to see the acknowledgement in Jake’s eyes, Mingyu nods and sits back in his seat, bringing his beer to his lips and taking the last couple of sips. “If anything, I don’t know, show a little respect and appreciation and help her—us out? I like that you’re here, okay? I really do. I’m just not babysitting. I’m spending time with you.”  

The other rules had made sense to Jake, but this last one got to him. He really understood why Mingyu had needed to say it. If the situation were reversed, he probably would have done the same thing. Nodding, Jake slides off his chair and picks up his plate, using his foot to open the trash can so he can slide the last of his pasta into it. “I’ve gotten pretty good at taking care of myself, Mingyu. I’m not gonna take advantage of you and Y/N. I’m thankful you all are letting me crash here, alright? Seriously. I know I’m not a kid.” 

Watching Jake move to the sink with his plate and glass, Mingyu sighs into a nod, feeling like his words made the impact he wanted them to despite your reaction. “Good, and like I said, happy you are here, man. Looking forward to the uh—what did Y/N call it?” 

Glancing over his shoulder as he opens the dishwasher, putting his dishes into it like a puzzle piece, Jake can’t help but smile as Mingyu makes a face recalling your words. 

“Our brotherly bonding time over the summer.” Shaking his head, Mingyu finally gets to his feet and starts to take care of his dishes when Jake reaches for them, muttering he’ll do it. “Thanks… You don’t have to.” 

“I don’t mind. You worked all day and like you said, ‘help out’ and shit.” 

Smirking, Mingyu ruffles the top of Jake’s hair and sighs into a long breath, feeling the length of the day weighing on him as the silence of the house starts to set in, knowing you are upstairs. “Alright. I’m heading up. I need a shower and as lame as it is, we turn in kind of early since we get up early.” 

Carefully fitting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, Jake snorts out a laugh and pulls his head away from Mingyu’s hand before glancing towards him as he gestures towards the stairs. “It is lame; you sound like our parents... but I get it. I’m pretty tired today anyway. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Gyu.” 

It had been a long time since Jake had called Mingyu anything other than his name. Hearing the shorted version of his name made Mingyu’s lips pull up into a bit of a smile as he rolled his eyes at the parent comment. “Yeah, night Jake.” 

By the time that Jake made it back up to his room, it seemed like everything was pretty quiet. Either Mingyu had taken the quickest shower possible or he had changed his mind. Settling back on his bed, Jake sighs, propping the pillows under his head as he balances his laptop on his stomach, getting ready to press play on the video he had been playing earlier when his brows furrow. He had to be hearing things. There was a linen closet separating your and Mingyu’s room from his but as another moan and the sound of the headboard smacking into the wall reach his ears, Jake knows it’s not his imagination. 

Wrapping his hand around your throat, right under your jaw, Mingyu groans low against your lips as you whimper underneath him. He hadn’t taken the time to prep you, but after fucking you this morning, you didn’t need nearly as much help to take his cock as you usually did. “Being so fucking loud, baby.”

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[grimaldiapologist]

Writing on a blog dedicated, at least in spirit, to our dissociative identity disorder, this is something that fascinates me. For context - living with the poster child disorder of "that's not even real" and "you're just faking it to get out of jail" and "you're just histrionic with bpd I know this because I took a psych class once in uni", that some fucking airheads still make their paycheck "criticising" in the psychology field (and teaching), the fear of being declared a faker, an attention seeker, a liar, a self-centered and stage-obsessed criminal-until-proven-otherwise came as a free package with the diagnosis. Just the suspicion of the diagnosis was enough for all of those labels. From whom? Everyone.

The first time I dared to open my mouth to my psychiatric nurse, she was putting me against the wall for lying and omitting, because in her view, I was doing too well with no explanation. In reality, at that point, I'd spent some months after becoming aware of the system getting to know them and reading up on how to get the basics of communication together, and working through the first chapters of Coping With Trauma-Related Dissociation, which helped us understand what we needed to do with one another in order to stabilise and feel safer in our everyday life. Things were actually going wonderfully, I wasn't lying, but I was omitting, yes. I was omitting, because even though at that point I knew nothing about DID beyond what I was learning from resources and my friend/now partner, who'd been in the community for a long time and gave us crucial peer support in terms of figuring our situation out, I knew extremely well the stigma associated with "split personality", and our first and primary instinct has always been to hide and cover the existence of the system.

But she was forcing it, so I told her. I was asking for help, yes, but with the context of doing so well - we were winning, and we wanted to keep winning.

She promptly told us we weren't allowed to leave, and started to set us up for involuntary inpatient stay. Exactly what we'd been afraid of the most: that "the psychiatric system" would imprison us and kill us, kill the parts of us who were vulnerable, with cocktails of medication in padded rooms and straitjackets and whatnot that we'd seen in the movies. (And, to a degree, during our actual inpatient stay years before.)

The resident psychiatrist did a quick evaluation of us and released us after, clearly annoyed at the nurse for overreacting and putting us in the extremely triggered and traumatised state that we were in, but it did permanent damage.

Very soon after, we discovered the online "discourse" on the validity of DID, and the "fake claiming" communities. This is all we inherited, first thing, with our diagnosis - which we did get after the above clusterfuck, within a year, with the aid of a specialising therapist and years of notes from our history, or so I assume. I can't remember, it's been years, and I have DID. The point is, even the DID community itself demands that you will never show a bright side to your disorder.

You either suffer all of the time, always, you hate yourself, you hate your other selves, you want to die, and you're forever a mess and you're in eternal war against yourself, or you're faking.

We are not this way and have never been. Prior to discovering the system, we were poorly. To spare the details, at 29 when we were diagnosed, we hadn't worked a day in our lives, dropped out of school at 12, and spent about a decade locked indoors with suicidal spirals being the expected main event of every three days or so. But our main strength has been our us, the family that we have, and the care that we've shown each other all along. Even if we can't love ourselves, we can love each other, and after learning communication - learning to listen, learning to talk - we've been doing phenomenally. Our condition has changed from treatment-resistant and debilitating to actually, we no longer need SSRI medication at all, after being on it for our whole lives. And luckily, this is enough proof for us, but not the world.

No, we're now in that funny place where our partially treated trauma/dissociative disorder looks like too much fun to the world. We're fine and we love each other. We indulge in dressup, we have our own silly little blogs and journals each with their own specific equipment like fancy ink pens and wares of stickers and decor, we have galleries of fake Instagram pictures of ourselves, we use PluralKit on Discord and talk to ourselves like we own the chat - among friends, anyway, or just between ourselves in our private one. All of this means we're fake, fake, fake, fake. God forbid a man has fun. God forbid a woman takes an afternoon to herself to give herself a makeover and go on a date. God forbid a guy just wants to feel comfortable and laugh and express himself, or have a chat with his closest friends.

We're not in enough pain all of the time to be "true" DID anymore. If we were "true" DID then we'd still be in the untreated, pre-diagnosed state. This is a stagnant disorder of identities that may never experience growth or true humanity. All I am allowed to be is a filthy, incapable hikikomori afraid of the world, because anything else is fucking weird to people.

I'm sorry, but. None of your fucking business. I've spent 33 years of my life split squarely on a tightrope over the chasms of "I don't want to die" and "I want to kill myself now". I'm 33 fucking years old and I've earned my goddamn license to feel good, actually. I'm allowed to be fucking weird because I'm developmentally disabled. I will never not be the way that I am, and I also have no intentions to ever be anything but the way that I am, I'm just aiming to be better at it.

This now means that I'm not actually allowed to talk about my disorder... basically anywhere but here and in therapy. No matter where I go, people treat me like a criminal. People who don't have DID tell me I'm faking for clout and larping (LARPing is great by the way and you should absolutely try it out instead of using it as a weird slur online) and they're the champions of true sufferers who are there to nobly remind me that REAL people with DID are actually so in pain all of the time and dying unrecognised while freaks like me... post on Tumblr for attention or whatever I don't fucking know I'm still disabled and in chronic pain and I can't do shit with myself regardless of our overall improvement - and people with DID tell me what I have isn't real DID and I'm "anti-recovery" or whatever because I don't subscribe to their specific dogma of recovery (which, for the record, every single microcosm of the recovery community has their own version of, and they all hate each other for it). The latest edition of how this fucked us over was our choice to write frankly about the positive sides of how the often negatively portrayed coping mechanisms of DID can be turned to work for recovery, and how things like substitute beliefs (believing things that are factually untrue such as 'I am an actual dragon trapped in a human suit' when you're not) can be used not to distance one from reality to escape but help one adapt into it (because I am a dragon in a human suit, a dentist cannot scare me), and had the whole conversation just without warning or any sort of notice deleted from the community. Mods never replied to my request on clarity on what the fuck they were doing and why, and I haven't been back in the community since, either.

And it's hilarious. The whole fucking thing is hilarious. You're faking it if you've recovered too much, because a true sufferer of a severe mental health condition would never recover, but if you don't recover enough, you're anti-recovery, and therefore also faking. There's a slim venue of acceptable suffering in an eternal still-shot in the middle, but you're not actually allowed to exist beyond it or past it in any capacity.

The only true DID case is a non-person who is incapable of growth and change, for a disorder that is all about identity, which by definition is all about growth and change.

I'm so tired of it. Sorry, freaks, I'm gonna freak the way that I freak from now on. I'm too well-adjusted these days to be your perfectly martyred poster patient.

ive found that partially treated mental illness can sometimes look to uninvolved onlookers like faked mental illness.

[justwonder113]

Han drunkenly confessing to you

Inspired by this ask

Summary: When Chan calls you at 2 am to pick up drunk han because he is asking for you the last thing you expect is for Han to confess his love for you. warnings: CHAOS! Idiots to lovers, (Both reader and Han(mostly Han) are idiots.) Reader is gender neutral. Cursing to no one's surprise. Kissing. Han being somewhat drunk. Teensy tiny amount of angst. Reader almost having a mental breakdown from all the chaos. Somewhat proofread. let me know if I missed anything A/N- Happy new year lovelies! I wish you all the best! Please take care of yourselves and drink lot's of water. Thank you all for all the love and support you have given me, it really means a lot to me. Word count- 2.4 k

Masterlist

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You know how people put most bizarre things in their resumes? Like stuff they only did once and they wrote it down like they had some kind of PhD in that field? Well next time you if you decided to change jobs or just apply to a new one you would write down that you had an experience and could deal with being friends with Han Fucking Jisung! That is if he survived this day. Because what do you mean you were heading out to get his drunk ass home because this grown ass man was actually crying and asking for you in the damn club at two fucking am! You were so beating his ass once he got sober.

You were seeing such a great dream too. You and Han were actually together and didn’t have this weird ass relationship you two had right now where there were no literal boundaries and you didn’t have to question every day If he was returning the feelings or if you were delusional and he was just extra friendly and overall simply comfortable with you. He was quite touchy and flirty with boys too after all. So you could imagine how much headache this could bring in.

 Anyway, to stop with your let’s just say unfortunate love life and get to the point you were pissed. You really were looking forward after a shitty week sleeping in and actually resting. That’s why you didn’t go to the club with the boys in the first place. How much did he actually drink to be actually crying and asking for you? What was he, a toddler asking for his mommy? Or better yet what was up with you being actually in love with this man?

The club was quite crowded for 2 am. The neon lights of reds blues and greens kept flashing rhythmically. The shouts of laughter and the hum of conversation mixed with the music creating a bit of chaos but well it was a normal atmosphere for a club. As soon as you walked in the smell of cocktails mixed with perfume and sweat of the crowd immediately hit you. It was a bit headache inducing but it was tolerable, as long as you left soon. You started searching for your friends with your eyes which was quite hard at first the crowd really kept shifting and mingling with each other. People really looked like they were having time of their life and you, with the, I just woke up and I’m mad as hell face, surely sticked out like a sore thumb.

Thankfully you found the boys quickly. It wasn’t hard giving they were loudest in the whole establishment as always. They were by the entrance and thankfully everyone looking ready to leave.

As for the man child who was the main reason you were here in the first place, he was clinging to Minho yapping about something. He wasn’t crying now but his eyes really looked puffy and red. Honestly how much did he drink? Others looked normal. Well tired like they were already hungover but still normal. Minho really looked like he was seconds away from smacking him. Yes smacking him, he even managed to rile Minho up. God, what a lightweight.

Han must have noticed you because one second you were looking at his face light up and him call you baby on top of his lungs and the next second he was basically on top of you. He literally hugged you witch such force it was a miracle you were standing on your feet and didn’t fall over.

“Han be careful!” You hear Chan warn him, he sounded tired.

“I’m fine.” You mustered to croak out once Han let go a bit to check if you were fine, he still returned to hugging you but at least you could breathe now. He really must have missed you. God you really wanted to kiss him. All your anger and grumpiness immediately flew out the window. Good for him he was so cute or else you would have smacked his head for bringing you here. “How are you Hannie? A little birdie told me you were asking for me.”

Han looked at you with his wide boba eyes, his lips jutted out in the cutest pout ever. “Better now that you’re here. They are literally so mean baby, I’m glad you’re here. You’re my favorite.”- Han whined out and hugged you again. You looked at others who looked so done, only Minho looked bemused, he held his phone up and recorded Han whine to you. You looked at him with raised eyebrow as you patted Han’s back to calm him down.

Minho only shrugged, “I’m showing this to him when he asks me for something. You’re in charge now since you’re his favorite.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Babe we both know that your softie ass is immediately going to cave in and do what he wants anyway.”

Minho glared at you, unamused by your comment but you didn’t really pay any mind to it, you had your attention to Han who stopped hugging you and went to Felix instead. He looked like he was about to start crying again any second now.

“Hannie baby what’s wrong?”

“You hate me!” His bold statement was followed by the most dramatic sob and collective sighs of being done from his friends.

“Why would you think that?” You were genuinely so confused. You had no idea what you did wrong.

Han glared at you for a second and returned to hugging Felix who was barely holding his laughter in. Not much to your surprise he quickly gave in. “You called Minho babe. You’re basically replacing me, you really must hate me.”

What now? You couldn’t help but blink in confusion because what the fuck was up with that logic. You really looked at him with a deadpan expression before the realization of what he said really dawned on you.

You tried, you really tried to hold your face together and not just burst out laughing, but you’re only just a human after all.

With the most teasing voice and biggest smile ever you used the chance to tease him, because let’s be real, pouty and sulky Han is the cutest Han. “Are you jealous baby?”

Han gasped and let go of Felix, he actually looked at you like he was mad now. Mad and maybe seconds away from crying which harshly puled on your heartstrings.

“I am! I’ve been in love with you for years and you’re calling Minho babe here!” He yelled and stormed off outside the club leaving you there shocked not knowing what to do. The boys also looked like they didn’t know what to do, only Minho was laughing his ass off and Hyunjin also looked like he was barely holding in his laughter in.

So he was jealous.

Oh.

Oh.

He said he loved you.

Han Jisung said he loved you.

The Han Jisung loved you.

He returned your feelings.

The boy you had been in love with for ages loved you back.

“HAN JISUNG GET YOUR ASS HERE!” You yelled as you chased after him. All seven of the boys cheering after you and encouraging you to get him. You would get to them later.

Thankfully he hadn’t gotten far, it might have taken you a second or two to let everything sink in. Han was closeby sitting on the sidewalk, pretty tears running down his rosy cheeks, what a silly boy, he even forgot to bring his jacket. You sat close to him thinking for a second of what to say to him, while also trying to warm him with your body head. He looked cold.

“If you want to tease me please go inside. I already feel like shit.” His voice was so raw and he looked so pained. It really hurt to see him like this. He sighed. “I need a minute okay? I will be fine I’m not that drunk anymore.” He took a pause. “I mean how can I be after the shit I said, God I am stupid!” You watched a tear run down his face. Before you could even realize what you were doing you reached and gently brushed away the tear. Han looked at you with tearful eyes.

“Maybe but who am I to judge? I mean, I didn’t even realize that my best friend, the man I had been in love with for god knows how long actually returns my feelings.”

God you said it. You actually admitted your feelings.

A pause.

Oh no, was he regretting it?

Was it something he just said because he was drunk?

You were startled out of your thoughts when Han literally slapped both of his cheeks. His skin immediately flushed angry red.

“What the fuck are they putting in these drinks? Actually making me hallucinate and shit.” Was he for real? You couldn’t hold yourself back so you smacked his arm.

Ignoring his whining you quickly got up and started to yell. “Han Jisung I did not just say I’m in love with you for you to think this is some kind of fucking hallucination! Do you know how much courage it takes to actually admit your feelings?” Han looked at you with wide eyes for a second then quickly got up too almost losing his balance for a second.

“Wait are you for real? You love me? You mean it?” - He asked with trembling voice.

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I mean it? How can I joke about something like that?”

A second passed then two.

“Dude are you kidding me? How are you in love with me. Do you have no standards? You’re like a fucking deity, someone people should fucking worship the fuck you mean you love me? Raise your standards!”

God you needed to be paid for this shit but no amount would be enough. This whole situation made you want to pull your hair out one by one, or maybe scream on top of your lungs, or maybe actually hit him because what the fuck was this?

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” You actually couldn’t help but yell, you didn’t give a crap that you were in the middle of street and it was 2 am and maybe some people were actually asleep.

“NO?”

“I WILL ACTUALLY BEAT YOUR ASS!” You took a deep breath. You reminded yourself that he was somewhat drunk. You needed to stay calm for your own sanity at least. “Han when people tell you that they love you back you at least should be grateful that they return your feelings. The last thing you want to do is to tell them to raise their standards. Because frankly all I wanted to kiss you but now all I’m thinking about is how to hold back and not to beat your ass! You’re literally perfect what the fuck are you on about?”

You watched as the biggest grin appeared on his face. It was like his whole mood shifted. “You want to kiss me?” Okay you really wanted to hit your head against a wall now.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this whole situation. “Do you only hear what you want to hear?”

Jisung, still grinning got closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Maybe.” -he mused. “All I heard is that you want to kiss me. And I have wanted to know what it is like to kiss you since I met you. You don’t know how irresistible you are.” His voice was so sweet and tender your heart was going crazy. And it didn’t help when he leaned in and put his forehead against yours.

“I could say the same to you dumbass.” You sighed against his lips. When did he even get so close?

“Can I kiss you?” Han asked as his gaze kept shifting from your lips to your eyes.

Feeling impatient to actually answer you grabbed him by his cheeks and finally connected your lips.

Kissing him was so much better than you could have thought. His lips were cold and chapped but they felt so nice as they moved against yours. You couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure. You didn’t know who deepened the kiss but soon your tongue met his and you almost melted. He tasted so sweet. You could even taste fruity cocktails he must have had earlier on his lips. But there was something more, something purely just Han, which made you fall in love with him even deeper if it was possible. You could already feel yourself getting addicted to kissing him.

Soon you had to lean back for some air, seeing Han whine and actually chase after your lips made you smile, your heart feeling whole. You didn’t even remember why you were mad earlier. You just gazed at him lovingly his arms tight around you as your hands were still on his cheeks. His cheeks felt so warm against your cold hands, it must’ve still stung from his slap. You tried to soothe it as you gently caressed his skin. Loving how he leaned into the touch. Shaking your head a bit. Not in a million years could you imagine something like this could happen to you. Life sure is full of mysteries.

You two were brought back to reality by cheers and hollers of your forgotten friends. Oops? You immediately covered your face leaning into the hug more to hide, unable to look any of them in the eyes, feeling beyond embarrassed. Han chuckled and hugged you closer.

“This had to be one of the most painful confessions I have ever seen.” Seungmin deadpanned as others kept clapping and cheering for you.

“Like you had seen a lot of them.” Minho quipped back quickly.

“At least they finally got it over with.” Hyunjin chipped in.

“Tell me about it, it was painful to watch them.” Now it was Innie’s time to say something. Did they all have to say something?

“Oh by the way I recorded all of this, I’m playing this at your wedding.” Felix waved his phone.

Chan grinned. “Or we can show it to their children in the future.” He teased as Changbin cackled like a possessed witch.

God you were so done with these clowns.

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[koipudding]

jing yuan, who loves when you’re wearing his clothes, and you return them to him. it’s so domestic and simple but he craves it. (gn reader, not a serious drabble.) reader is characterized as smaller than jy, interpret as you wish.

wc: 470

The clothes smell like you, of course. The laundry detergent you bought, your shampoo and the little scent beads you like to put in the washing machine. He doesn’t mind the musk that lingers on his old shirts after you clean the whole house, no of course not. Jing Yuan adores smelling your musk, lotion and conditioner melding together and melting into his shirt.

You go out to buy new scent beads every other month, a tiny little jar of them. Jing Yuan swears to anyone who listens that you’re doing this on purpose. Mixing your shampoo and lotion to match with the scent beads, changing the fabric softener to mess with his head (and laundry). He laments this to Fu Xuan, Qingzu, and Yanqing, who all beg you to stick to one routine before the General loses his sanity (of course, everyone groans and ignores him. they’ve had enough of his marital escapades, and they just tell him to marry you again if he’s this smitten. Thus, after a decade of marriage, Jing Yuan has rewritten his vows.) He likes these little variances in his routine, the little harmless surprise that keeps him on his toes.

(He swears it's just because you picked it out. You know it's because it reminds him that there's finally a home for him to return to.)

"I'm back, do you know what the others said during the meeting, they were planning on handing off more paperwork, but I insisted mimi and you would--" He stops in his tracks. This must be unfair. Divine Punishment? Did he anger Lan? his ancestors?

Jing Yuan sees you wearing nothing but some socks, his shorts and t-shirt (both of which hang off of your smaller frame). He runs over, pace quickening.

You yelp quietly, backing away before he pounces onto you, bearing all of his weight onto you. He can't help it, you're so cute wearing his outfit, doing laundry and making dinner.

“You smell so good.” he buries his face into your neck, inhaling the sun on your skin, lotion he bought for you, and the conditioner you've taken from his stash.

“And you smell icky.” You push him off gently, but his arms only tighten. He just got back from work, and he reeks of sweat. But you can’t ignore how your heart races whenever he gets up to these antics, and you can’t help but indulge in his whims. 

This is a regular habit. He barely removes his armor before running to you, and clings to you like a sullen child, asking about dinner and how his darling and mimi have been. You can only sigh and pat his head while he recharges in your lap (or, in Yanqing’s words: naps.) 

"thank you, for everything," He whispers into your ear, "You're doing great, sweetheart."

a/n: I was talking to a coworker abt how the only thing that brings me joy now is a 2d man (jy) and buying new scent beads/laundry scent boosters or sample perfume. then I had this idea. also that ending bit :,) sending good vibes to all with my first fic of the new yr!

[the-badger-mole]

Clouds, Fog and Mists

The scholars and archeologists that Aang had been working with had come out of their museum basements and dimly lit studies with a wealth of Air Nomad histories and artifacts that had been lost during the war. Aang now had access to recipes he hadn't tasted in years, scrolls that gave historical context to the things he had just begun learning at age 12, and objects he had never seen, but was excited to learn the use of. At 22, he was just now learning that the Air Nomads had a variety of subcultures and customs he'd never encountered, even though he had visited every Air Temple that existed back then.

"Did you know..." became as common to his vocabulary as "hello" and "custard tart". Every day, he approached his wife with some new bit of lore he'd learned.

"Did you know that the Southern Air Nomads had a Festival of Remembrance?" he'd excitedly asked as Katara was hanging the laundry out to try. She was only half listening while she tried to keep Bumi, their nearly three year old son out of the basket of wet sheets, but she gave a polite hum of encouragement.

"For a whole week," Aang continued needing no further prompting, "no one was allowed to play music or speak. They even wore velvet over their feet so their footsteps wouldn't be too loud. Then, at the end of it, there was a huge party! Loud as anything with music and plays and games. I think I remember going one of those ending parties, but I didn't know about the vow of silence before it."

"That's fascinating, sweetie," Katara said, rubbing her heavy belly with a look of discomfort. She was seven months along with their second child, and this one was very active. "Bumi, last warning. Do not touch the clean clothes!"

"Okay, Mommy!" Bumi said before swatting at one of the sheets Katara had hung on the line. She sighed and turned to her husband.

"Can you take him?" she asked. "I'm tired, and I'd like to take a nap after I finish this."

"Oh," Aang said reluctantly. "I was going to have an afternoon session with the Acolytes. I'm dying to tell them what I've been learning."

"Aang, please?" Katara sagged tiredly, taking Bumi's hand and pulling him away from all her hard work.

"Alright," Aang sighed. "I'll watch him for a bit. Come on, Bumi! Let's go practice some air katas! I want you to be ready when your airbending kicks in!"

-:-:-:-:-:-

All Air Nomads were airbenders. That's what Aang had always been taught. He had to account for late bloomers, of course, but at age four, going on five, if Bumi was going to be an airbender, there would've been signs by now. Kya was a lost cause. She had started waterbending just before her second birthday, and despite the fact that her father was the Avatar, there was no chance that she would inherit the ability to control more than one element.

"Well, maybe it's not true that all Air Nomads were benders," Katara said with a shrug. "After all, not every Water Tribesman is a waterbender, and not everyone in the Earth Kingdom is an earthbender."

"It's different," Aang insisted. "The monks told me that all Air Nomads were benders because we have a unique connection with our spirituality." Katara didn't quite manage to hide her annoyance from him.

"Then explain our kids," she said. "Unless you're the first Air Nomad in history to have children with a non-Air Nomad, someone somewhere got something wrong." Aang went quiet after that. He had no response.

"Just because the Air Nomads may have had children with people from other nations doesn't mean that their children were Air Nomads," an acolyte named Qiao said. She was one of the most apt and studious of Aang's Air Acolytes, and they had spent many hours together pouring over the newly discovered texts. Sometimes, Aang thought that she had a better grasp of Air Nomad culture than even he did.

"I suppose....I suppose that's true," Aang said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea.

"The Air Nomads were mostly not monogamous," Qiao pointed out. "I'm sure there were a lot of Nomads who had understandings with their lovers from other nations. Especially among the Air Acolytes of the day."

Aang pondered that for the rest of the day. Then the next. Then the rest of the week before he finally approached Katara. He found her by the fountain with Kya and Bumi. Kya was busy making imperfect little shapes with the water while Katara was teaching Bumi how to put his hair into a warrior's wolf tail.

"You look just like your uncle Sokka," she laughed, pressing a kiss on her son's cheek. "I bet you'll be a great warrior just like him, too." That twisted Aang's gut uncomfortably. He cleared his throat to get Katara's attention.

"Hey, sweetie," he said.

"Hey," Katara smiled at him. "We're just about to have story time. Do you want to stick around for How Umiak Rowed Her Boat to the Stars?"

"Oh, um..."Aang shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Sure. I was just...thinking of something."

"Yeah?" Katara raised her brow at him. "What?"

"I was just thinking of how all the Air Nomads were benders." Katara didn't bother trying to hide her disgusted snort or the rolling of her eyes.

"Okay, and?" she huffed. "Did you draw any new conclusions?"

"I can't have been the only Air Nomad to have children with someone from a different culture," he said. Katara stared at him blankly for a long moment.

"I told you that," she responded finally. "It's just now sinking in?'

"No, I understood you," Aang told her. He kicked at the ground. There was a loose pebble under his toe and he focused on rolling it back and forth. "It's just...well, the Air Nomads, they weren't strictly monogamous."

"Monogamous," Katara scoffed. "That's a big word for you." Aang bristled a bit at that, but he took a breath and let it go.

"I was just reading," Aang said with a shrug. "It occurred to me that maybe because the Air Nomads weren't monogamous, they just didn't bring their non-bending kids into the Air Nomad society." Katara looked up at Aang with her eyes wide.

"That's awful!" she said. "So because their kids didn't bend the right elements, they had to be cut off from one of their parents?"

"No, I'm sure it wasn't as bad as all that-" Aang started to protest.

"What exactly are you saying, Aang?" There was a dangerous edge to Katara's voice. A warning.

"Nothing, nothing!" he scrambled back, tripping over his tongue, trying to call back his words, and cursing himself for trying to bring up the subject without a plan. Katara eyed him coldly. She was angry and trying not to show it.

"It's time for lunch," she told her children. "Let's go inside and fix something to eat."

"But Mommy," Bumi protested. "I want to hear about Umiak!" Katara turned to him with a tight smile.

"That's okay, sweetie," she said. "I'll tell you while you help me fix lunch." With one last scowl at Aang, she took Bumi's hand and swung Kya up onto her hip and went inside.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Aang felt vindicated when it was discovered that he and Qiao were right. The Air Nomads would often leave non-airbending children with their non-Nomad parents. Sometimes the Air Nomad parent would stay with their non-Nomad partners and build a life with them and their children (something he made a note to tell Katara about). Then it was discovered that they were only partially right.

Some of the Air Nomads stayed and raised mixed heritage families. Some left their non-airbending children behind with their non-Nomad partners. That was expected. Reasonable, even. What Aang was not expecting, however, were the accounts of non-airbending children being given away. Some were adopted, and those adoptions were traceable through documents and letters. Others were sold. Those transactions were traceable, too. By most accounts, those children went into indentured servitude and many of them learned trades and were able to start businesses once their indenture was up. Aang tried to focus on the positives. Katara, however, was horrified.

"What right did they have to sell those children into...into slavery?" she demanded hotly while they were getting ready for bed.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Aang insisted. "After all, the Air Nomads wouldn't have put children into situations where they could've been hurt."

"Yes," Katara sneered. "I'm sure their new owners were very gentle with their exploitation."

"That isn't fair!" Aang protested. "Do you know how difficult it would've been for those kids to live among the Nomads?"

"Probably about as easy as it's been for our kids." Katara glared at Aang meaningly. He felt his cheeks heat as he looked away, pretending not to understand.

Bumi was going on eight now, and Kya was five. They were both old enough to ask questions about why it was so difficult for them to move around their own home. Katara and the Acolytes had an easier time being adults and able to maneuver obstacles that short legs and small hands couldn't without help, but it was still a regular challenge to get around the Air Temple for them. Aang was in the process of building a complex near Republic City where non-airbending Acolytes could live and learn with more ease, but it wouldn't be ready for anyone to move into for another year or so. It would be safer for children with no airbending ability, too. Aang glanced over at Katara from the corner of his eye, at the soft swell of her stomach, already showing signs of pregnancy at her second month.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Tenzin was the last of Aang's children with Katara, and the only airbender. When he was almost one, he airbent for the first time, and Aang couldn't stop celebrating for an entire week. When Tenzin was two, the first of the burial mounds were discovered.

Archaeologists working at the mostly restored Northern Air Temple found it at the base of the mountain. There were several layers to the grave, suggesting generations' worth of use. Most of the bones were small. Infant and toddler sized. The largest bones were about the size of an average eight year old. The bones were all jumbled together, as if they had been tossed in a heap. Some of them wore the clothes they were buried in, but most of the bones were too broken to hang on to any frabric. There were also no signs of any shrouds or anything indicating that they had been given any of the customary funeral rites of the Air Nomads. The fact that they were found at the base of the mountain in itself was unusual. All the different groups of Air Nomads had their own unique funeral customs, but one thing that remained the same was that they were laid to rest as close to the sky as possible.

When the first reports of how the children came to be at the base of the mountain came out, Aang was certain it was the rankest propaganda. None of the Air Nomads, no matter how stringent they were about non-airbenders living among them, would ever harm a child. For a while, he seemed to be right, as all the proof was from secondary and tertiary sources.

"Lies the Fire Nation used to justify genocide," Aang said confidently.

"But how did the children get there?" Katara asked. Aang had no answer for her. Yet. There must have been a good one, though. Maybe a plague had run through the Air Temple, forcing them to bury the bodies at the bottom of the mountain to prevent contamination, or something equally tragic. Aang began talking to the archaeologists about giving the bones a proper burial as soon as they could be sorted. The count at that time was 700 bodies in the pile and there were still so many more to go.

A few months after that, the oldest of the Air Nomad accounts were uncovered. It went back a good 300 years, and it spoke about a surplus of infants born without the gift of airbending. There were too many to be disposed of the normal ways, and many of the non-bending parents were unwilling or unable to raise the children themselves. The anonymous monk wrote of a meeting to discuss the crisis. They wouldn't be able to care for so many that couldn't get around the temple, or travel with the Nomads. There was a food shortage. A water shortage. An everything shortage. So the head monk suggested giving the children to the air. That had been the first time the practice had been recorded, near as anyone could tell. But some of the bones were older than that.

That's what they called it. It sounded lovely. Poetic even. In practice, though, the babies were carried to the edge of the temple grounds and held in the air. A short prayer was said for the souls of the children, and then they just...let go. They were so high up, they probably couldn't hear the children hit the ground.

The public began to call them the Fog Children. They were babies born to Air Nomad parents, but without airbending abilities themselves. People clung to the term and it soon spread all over the world in hushed whispers. Aang hated it. Katara hated it. It was the only thing they could agree on by that time.

"It isn't fair!" Aang bemoaned. "It's like people are using it to justify the Fire Nation killing all the Air Nomads."

"If it bothers you so much," Katara said after she'd put the kids to bed, "then speak up! Condemn what they did."

"I do!" Aang insisted. He had protested, loudly that all of the Air Nomads shouldn't be judged by what one fringe sect did.

"Not just them," Katara said. "All of it. It's just like with the Fire Nation. Remember what Zuko said? You can't expect to move forward without acknowledging the past. All of it was wrong. The Air Nomads treated their non-bending children as if they had no value. Condemn the adoptions and abandonings and the selling of the children!"

"How is it my responsibility to make up for all of that?" Aang demanded.

"You're the only one left," Katara reminded him, trying to be gentle. "I'm not saying you have to call the Air Nomads monsters. They did something wrong. They were human. You can acknowledge that and commit to being better than that."

"How?"

"Start with your children."

It had been a frequent argument between Katara and Aang how Aang treated their children. Bumi was 13 now, well on his way to becoming a man. Kya was 11 and Tenzin was five. Often, Katara would quiz Aang on his children- what Kya's favorite color was, or the name of Bumi's best friend. Aang could admit that he was correct about Tenzin more often than the others, but it was only because Aang had so much he had to teach his youngest. Katara should've understood that. After all, there were things she did with Kya that she couldn't do with Bumi or Tenzin.

"It's not the same," Katara told him. Aang could never remember why, though.

For the next year or so, Aang spent much of his time doing damage control. He did his best to separate the practices at the Northern Air Temple and the particular sect of Air Nomad culture that grew around it from the rest of the Air Nomads. Every criticism of the culture was met sharply by Aang's rebuttals and justifications. Penning article after article espousing the virtues of the Air Nomads at large became his full time job, and obsession. It took him two weeks to notice that Katara had left with all three of his children, and another month for him to find the letter Katara had left in his bedside table telling him she was seeking a divorce.

He got Tenzin three months of the year. It was all he could manage, being completely unused to parenting alone. Aang taught his son what he could of airbending and the Nomad philosophy he could in that time, and did his best to ignore the people whispering fog children in the same breath as his oldest children.

[fireheartedpup]

I still think this is funny and a step up from what we have now, but I feel I would be remiss to not mention that Denmark actually has a problem with abusing the native Inuit population.

In particular, they like to take children away from their families, because they often conclude that Inuit caretakers are unfit.

It still feels like a step up because we have very similar issues in the US, but at least we have the Indian Welfare Act.

If this were to actually happen, we would probably face issues with addressing the Greenland government that are similar to what Puerto Rico is facing with the US now.

The reality is that a lot of USians would bristle at the thought of being owned by another country. It would cause a lot of political tension that we don't need to add to this trash fire.

I attended a zoom meeting shortly after the election, and the main point was this: we need to organize. We need to work together. We need to make plans so that fascism, at the very least, will have a hard fight ahead of it.

Find local organizations if you can. Here's a general one that can offer some tips and tricks.

We need to work to build a country where being bought by another one isn't appealing anymore. I don't know if it's going to happen in my lifetime. But we can at least lay the foundation.

I don't really regret making a joke. I'm kind of emotionally detached from the situation. I don't feel much about certain things anymore because I've become deadened to this sort of thing happening over and over, and the possibility of Denmark buying the US doesn't feel real to me.

But we do still need to support natives, in whatever way we can.

I didn't know about the Inuit issues at the time of my earlier comment, but it's not surprising to me. It's just colonization as usual.

[slafastri28]

The Favorite Child - OP81

Summary: The first year of reader and Oscar's relationship, families give the other special treatment when they are around!

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Idk nothing really

Note: Is this loosely based on my life, maybe... yes it is... ENJOY!!

Winter 2023/24

“Mom, Dad, I have someone I want you to meet,” those words were so nerve-racking to you. They knew who Oscar was, you met him during your internship and had become best friends, but things escalated quickly after your boyfriend mistreated you, not trusting you in your work environment as you were surrounded by men your age. You tried to introduce him over the phone to the people you would be spending the most time with, but he refused. Long distance was clearly not meant for the two of you as it resulted in constant fighting and a lack of trust. You two broke up during your Thanksgiving break and you immediately called Oscar. He comforted you, but little did you know he was waiting for you, since the early moments of you two spending time with you he fell hard for you. Now here you were bringing him home from the airport to stay with you for a week before you both left to work again. He naturally walked in through your front door behind you, your parents both smiling.

“You must be the famous Oscar we hear so much about,” your Mom smiled greeting him with a hug, causing your cheeks to flush feeling embarrassed.

“Mr. Piastri,” your Dad greeted him with a handshake, a friendly welcoming one, not very protective over his daughter. The four of you sat down for dinner as your parents began asking about Oscar’s life which was a lot different from yours. It was full of adventures in different cities, countries, and continents, where your last vacation was when you were seventeen. 

“It really is beautiful, once you start putting your shoes up high,” he laughed. He looked so in place at the table across from you talking to your parents. Something in your stomach told you this would be a recurring event. Dinner ended and you showed him where he would be staying for the next week before the two of you traveled to your new shared apartment to start your job. It seemed natural for you to live together, two separate bedrooms which you would both keep clean and orderly, you had similar lifestyles, similar habits, similar everything and you wouldn’t mind living with your best friend. He made himself comfortable in your older brother’s former room, he moved out a long time ago and now it was vacant, and was conveniently right next to yours if he needed anything. The week went on and you showed him all around your hometown, your favorite places to eat, the park where you would play in the snow with your friends, your school, all core parts of who you were. You went shopping gathering last-minute essentials before leaving, it started to feel surreal. You knew deep down you had feelings for Oscar but seeing him in your hometown fitting in perfectly made them even stronger. It was the second to last night you would be staying with your parents. It was late, the two of you were alone in your living room watching a movie when you suddenly felt his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t hide a smile but didn’t say anything you didn’t know what to do. The TV was apparently too loud and startled your Mom out of sleep, because in a few seconds, she was at the top of the stairs asking you to lower it, scaring both you and Oscar out of the position you were in. Once she left his head went immediately back to your shoulder, and you rested your head on top of his. These were normal instances throughout the week, as you would be walking his hand would occasionally brush up against yours, he would look at you longer than he needed to, and he was so attentive in everything you spoke about your town.

“Y/N,” he said softly, you picked your head up as he did the same to look at you. 

“Yes, Oscar?”

“What are we?” That question, that wonderful, stressful question that put the ball in your court, you tried to come up with a response that you hoped wouldn’t scare him off.

“What do you want to be?” You asked, feeling a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

“I- I don’t know,” he replied, your faces moving closer to each other. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest.

“I hope this isn’t too straightforward,” you said before placing a kiss on his lips. When you broke apart he had a big smile on his face.

“I want to be with you Y/N, your boyfriend,” he smiled, kissing you once more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” you sighed with a grin. As your movie came to a close the two of you went upstairs hand in hand before parting to go to your separate rooms. 

You woke up the next morning trying to be as discrete as possible with Oscar around your parents, you two would sit under a blanket and hold hands underneath, or when your parents weren’t looking he would rest his hand on your lower back, it was one more day you figured it would be easy, nope. Your parents quickly caught on, it was a moment when you were alone with your Mom that it got loose.

“You know I know about you and Oscar,” SHE WHAT?! 

“What? How”

“The way he looked at you it was obvious. Relax, your father and I like him very much, I just want to make sure you’re okay it’s barely been a month since…” her voice trailed off.

“I’m fine Mom, I was done with him in October, but I didn’t want to be a jerk and do it over the phone especially while the guys were with me, they all knew, and all encouraged it but I couldn’t do it over the phone,” you explained. 

“So you’re okay,” you nodded. The two of you left the next morning driving the hour to your new apartment. You two began unpacking the boxes that were waiting for you, you caught him looking at you as a distraction.

“So my parents know,” you blurted out.

“Uh-huh, and I thought we were going to wait a little to tell them as per your request,” he said with a hand on his hip.

“My mom figured it out, you made it REALLY obvious,” you teased.

“I can’t help looking at you, you’re finally mine let me enjoy it,” he said before pecking you on the cheek. You two continued unpacking, building furniture that was delivered, and making your apartment feel like home.

The winter season ended and you would be going into the 2024 Formula 1 season as Oscar’s girlfriend. 

Spring 2024

You took supporting Oscar very seriously. In the time you had while he had winter testing, you purchased any merchandise you could find with his name on it, and things you thought were cute that matched the Mclaren colors. Although you couldn’t travel with him to every race due to your job, you still went to as many as you could sporting his last name. He was always happy to see you after no matter what the outcome was. When you were there he would rush over to you, when you weren’t he would call you from his driver’s room immediately after. It was when you leaked to him your parents would be coming to a race he got an idea. You two were lying in your shared room, leaving the other bedroom to quickly become an office/guest room thinking out loud. 

“You said your parents don’t travel much,” he said.

“Well, no one we know travels as much as you, but no not really, why?” you asked.

“I feel like I should get them something, I don’t know, I travel so often, I feel like it would be nice, and you know make them like me more,” he smiled.

“Please, every time we go to their house Mom acts so much different, Dad texted the one time asking if you were coming for dinner because he smelled ‘the good food’, you're their favorite child,” you laughed. 

“No she doesn’t,” he knew secretly it was true.

“Denial is not something I would pin on you but here you are,” you teased. 

“Well maybe I’m the favorite child because I start bringing back souvenirs,” he said with confidence.

“Mhm okay,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “so what are you going to get them?”

“Your Mom loves tea, right? And your Dad coffee?” You nodded, see he knew these things after not even six months of dating. 

“So I’ll bring back mugs or coasters,” he said, “something useful so they will think of me every time they use it,” he said proudly. 

“Favorite child,” you teased again. He shrugged and kept brainstorming.

“So they are coming to Monaco this weekend, but after that, I’ll be in Canada, perfect, a Canada mug,” he smiled.

“Maybe some maple syrup,” you giggled.

“See you’re in on it, you think they will like it,” he grinned.

“They will love anything coming from you, believe me,” you kissed his cheek, “Good night idea man,” you said rolling to your side and drifting to sleep with a smile. 

The weekend approached, and you met your parents for dinner the night before the race, you were surprised by Oscar meeting you there too, he made no clarification he would be there. He was holding a small bag.

“There’s our boy,” your Dad said patting him on the back as he came and sat next to you.

“Hi Darling,” he kissed your cheek, “hope I’m not encroaching on your family time, I knew you would be here, and I can only be alone for so long the night before,” he smiled.

“Oh please, you could never intrude,” your Mom laughed.

“Favorite child,” you whispered in his ear, it became a running joke every time you saw your parents, your Dad was in on it too.

“Y/N don’t whisper it’s rude,” Your mom looked at you sternly, and your Dad winked. 

“What’s in your bag Osc,” you said changing the topic. 

“Something for you two actually,” he said gesturing at your parents, reaching and placing the bag in front of them. 

“What a nice mug,” your Dad said pulling it out of the bag, it was a Formula One-themed mug with the word Monaco across the top, it had different cars, a map of the track, helmets, and the flag of course. You sat there stunned, thinking this wasn’t starting until next week, but Oscar had mischief.

Your parents continued to thank and praise him for the mug as the weekend continued, and each week that followed with a different mug being sent to your parent's house or hand delivered they became more and more loving towards him as if they weren’t already. Your parents became Oscar’s second parents, they loved having him around. You were invited to stay with them the summer break but declined, you two had your own vacation in mind, where you were sure Oscar would bring a mug back from there. 

Summer Break 2024

Here it was, the moment you would meet Oscar’s family. You two were in the middle of the flight and woke up out of your sound sleep with the fear of meeting his family. That and you always got flight-sick. You rushed to the airplane bathroom, completely disregarding the empty seat next to you. There meeting you in the isle was Oscar,

“Aww again,” he sighed knowing where you were going.

“It will pass, we are almost there anyway,” you sighed trudging to the bathroom. Moments later you were back in your seat, you could see the sun rising out of the window, he took your hand rubbing his thumb gently across the top. 

“You have no reason to be nervous,” he smiled knowing that was also making you sick. Your flight continued into an eventual bumpy landing sending your stomach into orbit. Oscar rested his hand over it as its shield, he knew where you would be going in the airport first. You went to the bathroom and after you finished your boyfriend was no longer standing alone. You recognized the figures, quickly rushing your hands into your pockets waiting for them to notice. Oscar’s eyes moved from his youngest sister’s to yours. You made your way over comfortably, but could still feel your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Everyone,” he announced, “this is Y/N L/N, my best friend, and beautiful girlfriend. " He smiled, resting his hand on your back, urging you to come closer. You hid your nervousness with a smile,

“It’s so nice to meet all of you finally, he’s told me so much,” you could feel the heat of your face flushing away. His mom was first to greet you pulling you into a hug,

“Are you kidding, we’ve heard so much about you,” she laughed. His sisters all greeted you next, looking forward to having a new girl in the house for a couple of weeks, finally, you reached his Dad,

“He looks good, he hasn’t given you any trouble has he,” he smiled.

“No sir,” you laughed, feeling the tension and nerves ease away. The day began with lunch right after the airport pickup, although you could barely get a bite to stay down. 

“Darling where are they,” he said gesturing for you to hand him your bag. His whole family felt horrible. You weren’t feeling well, and they were ready to accommodate plans to suit your needs. The day continued and everyone was catering to your every need, crackers you had it, ginger ale right along with you. 

“You don’t have to-” you were cut off.

“We insist,” his mother said rubbing your shoulder as you made your way into their house. Oscar was getting you unpacked when he found the small bottle of heaven, it always saved you from motion sickness and jet lag when traveling, you must have put it in your suitcase by mistake. There you lay on his bed, looking around at his childhood bedroom, as he did the same when he first arrived at your house. You noticed all the little details, pictures of him growing up, little trophies he had from karting, all the important moments of little Oscar’s life. He joined you handing you the bottle. You took the tablets and rested your head in his lap already feeling a lot better. 

“See, no worries, they love you, favorite child,” he laughed.

“No no you cannot call me that, we haven’t even been here a day,” you shot at him. 

“My mom would tell me to suck it up, and they certainly wouldn’t make me a special meal like they are for you,” he crossed his arms, “so yes I can, I already know.”

“Maybe if I wasn’t sick-”

“Please they love you, and as they get to know you better they will love you even more,” he smiled. 

“So, you told them about me,” you said sitting up and adjusting to look clearly at him. 

“Y/N, my sisters wanted to know every single detail, well everyone in the family always needs to know every single detail,” he groaned.

“And?”

“And the questions would never end, you just wait for dinner tonight, they are going to tell you everything they know about you and more,” you laughed, but he seemed so serious. Dinner approached and he was right, you had a lot to talk about, it was the opposite of your house, where everything was always Oscar, tonight everything was you. 

“So Y/N, Oscar tells us you studied business,” his father began. The next thing you knew many many details of your life had been shared with his family, your hobbies, your interests, …your intentions, a lot of information. You two went to bed early that night feeling tired from the flight, you lay silent in the dark of his room, the only light of the little plug-in near his door. You were both awake staring at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, were they too much,” he said turning to face you.

“You met my parents, nothing is too much,” you grinned. 

“So they didn’t scare you off,”

“Of course not,” you placed a kiss on his lips. 

“I love you,” he sighed before pressing his lips to yours once more. You two slept peacefully awaiting the weeks ahead of you. 

The trip consisted of Oscar taking you to all his favorite and important places in his life. You two were so in sync, you listened to all his facts and as you experienced all these places he took pictures with you at each one, wanting to remember forever. You two had been stopped in a few places by fans and he was so good about it. You even had some recognition as you were now dating a famous racing driver and were plastered on social media more than you knew. Girls would come up to the two of you squealing with delight asking you personal yet intrusive questions about dating Oscar, he could see your discomfort and would act in ways that would make them even more crazy. He would stare at you lovingly, he would wrap his arms around your waist or over your shoulders, would press little kisses to your cheeks giving you compliments.

“She truly is the best,” he said during one of your fan interactions “I wouldn’t ask for anyone else,” your heart melted. You fell deeper and deeper in love with him this trip, seeing him in his home, now you know how he felt seeing you in your hometown and why he was so infatuated with you. 

As your trip came to a close you didn’t want to leave, it was so amazing. His family became your second family, his home was your home, and you were invited to stay with them at the Australian Grand Prix next year, it was wonderful. You said your goodbyes at the airport before boarding the plane. As you were waiting for take-off, he looked at you smugly, as you had a mixture of joy and sadness on your face.

“Believe me now favorite child?” he teased.

“I think your sisters wished it was me instead of you, I would have killed to play dress up with them when you were all young, you look great in pink by the way,” you laughed, you would miss his family. 

“Okay, it’s only natural for little girls to dress up their older brother, you can’t tell me you didn’t do the same,” 

“I tried, but he’s five years older, he was a teenager when I was at the dress-up age, however in high school he did let me put a pink strip in his and his best friend's hair, so I call that a win,” you smiled talking about your brother. You two grew distant once he moved away, you missed that bond you had when you were little, now he acted as your third parent, you couldn’t talk to him without constant disapproval. You were lost in your thoughts when the plane taking off interrupted them.

Fall 2024

The season carried on, you found yourself longing for Oscar those weekends he was away, and you began to go crazy. Your parents constantly wanted you to visit, or come and surprise you at your apartments on weekends. You knew they meant well but it was starting to become too much. It was different when Oscar wasn’t there, they felt that they could finally give you their real opinions on your lifestyle, and make things the way they wanted in your life. You found yourself crying most nights when he was gone after long days with your parents as sometimes they would make you question your relationship. 

“Does Oscar love you for being like this?” Your mom said to you one weekend, you kicked both your parents out that day and didn’t even bother calling Oscar you were in such a fit of anger and sadness that you were thinking of all the ways you wanted to change yourself in that very moment. Times like this continued and you felt the courage to tell these things to Oscar once again. At first, he didn’t believe you but the more time he spent with them he began to see it. He was always reassuring, but you began to overthink feeling so bad that every weekend he was gone you were upset when he was out scoring points and having a great time.

“Y/N, come with me this weekend,” he finally said one night. That sounded like the best idea to you ever, and work was becoming more of a hybrid position than on-site, it seemed perfect. 

“I would love that,” you sighed. 

“I know there’s only a few races left, but please come with me, I would love to have you there and give you a break from all this stress,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“You have a deal,” you smiled.

“So you’re going to tell them right now, you can’t do anything for the next month,” he pointed a stern finger at you. You picked up your phone sending a message to both of them, they seemed fine in their responses but still in those weeks you were traveling they found ways to pick at your travel plans based on your media posts, commenting on what you chose to wear, the meals you two were eating, the late hours you were up, they saw your life start to merge with Oscar’s life, and were concerned. 

Winter 2024-25

You two were spending a week with your parents for the holiday, and eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and exploded. You scolded your parents in front of Oscar, your boyfriend of almost a year, you thought he would leave you then and there as he had never seen you this upset but he stood in support of you.

“I’m proud of you, you are an adult and they need to see that, I know you don’t think they will change, but they are your parents they mean well, but when you are with me you do not need to doubt yourself at all, I love you for being yourself,” he said as you two sat on the floor in your room. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes once more. You cried all the pain you had been realizing that was influencing your whole life flowed out. He held you to his chest and continued explaining all the thoughts you didn’t realize were influenced by your parents, you felt free. 

“This new year I will help you with all those things darling, I promise you, I am not going anywhere,” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“I love you Oscar Piastri, thank you for making me, me again,” you kissed him once more.

“I love you Y/N L/N, no matter what.”

[hvnlygrl]

bf jj and virgin reader doing it for the first time !!!!!

he literally just baby's her without belittling her because he knows she dosent fw vulnerability like that

i got you babe.

pairing — jj maybank x fem!virgin!reader

word count — 2.0k

warnings — smut minors dni, loss of virginity, p in v, protected sex, fingering, oral (f rec), fluff, aftercare.

synopsis — jj is nothing but a sweetheart during your first time, and it’s everything you could’ve imagined and more.

notes — i love this idea he would be so sweet and tender and just so perfect for ur first time

you were nervous. you obviously trusted jj more than anything but it didn’t help ease the anxiety that was building inside of you. you didn’t want to look like a fool or ruin anything with jj.

but it had been nearly 3 months of your relationship and the most you’d done together is some under the clothes groping and grinding, leaving each of you to go home and finish yourselves off.

jj would never pressure you into anything, or look at you differently for taking your time, he understands how fragile virginity is and how you want your first time to be special, but he can’t help but leave each heated make-out session feeling more desperate than the last time.

you’ve thought about it all week and you’re sure that tonight is the night. it’s his birthday and you want to make it even more special.

he opens the silver chain you gifted him, eyes going wide at the gesture, “holy shit, babe! where did you get the dough for this thing?”

“nunya,” you flash a grin at him, heart fluttering at how excited he is to put it on. “you like it?”

“baby i love it,” he looks like a child in a candy shop, “it’s fuckin’ awesome.”

“good, i’m glad,” you hum proudly. setting the scene is going better than you’d imagined. jj sits on your couch, expecting that to be the only gift he’d receive. with his birthday being january 14th, you picked out a couple of new hoodies for him since his other ones were getting extra ratty from overuse (and from him dropping the blunt on himself nearly every time he smoked).

you pull out two mid-sized gift bags from the side of the couch and hand them to him.

“holy- more gifts? how much did you spend?” jj gapes at you, eyes full of concern and a bittersweet happiness at how much you’re willing to go out of your way for him.

“i’m not telling you!” you huff out playfully, “open it!”

he rips the tissue paper from the first bag, discarding it to the side of him before pulling out the first hoodie. it’s a light teal-blue, with the ron jon surf shop logo on the back. “dude this is sick!” he flips it over to look at the front, noticing a tinier version of the logo on the heart.

“now open this one,” you grin, knowing he’d love this one even more.

he pulls it from the bag next, revealing a black hoodie, his favorite album plastered across the front, the artist’s tour dates and locations listed on the back. “no way!!”

“yes way,” you can’t stop smiling at this point, knowing that this is genuinely the happiest he’s been since you’ve met him. “happy birthday my sweet boy,” you lean towards him, giving him a kiss.

he leans into it, hands immediately coming up to grip you face, one resting on your cheek and the other resting in your hair toward the back of your head.

you embrace the kiss even more, allowing him to slip his tongue against yours as you nervously clamber onto his lap. you’re in a flowy mini skirt and long sleeve button up. he’s adorned in the brand new silver chain, a cut-off sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts.

you let your fingers glide down his chest slowly, nails dragging against the fabric before lifting at the bottom to pull it over his head.

he falters for a moment, looking at you curiously, “whatcha doin, baby?”

“i’m ready, jay,” your nervousness is plastered across your face but you mean it. you’re ready to go to the next level with him. and tonight’s the night.

“you sure? you don’t have t-“

“-i’m positive baby.”

“if you change your mind at all no matter how far we get just say the word, okay?” he raises his brows at you expectantly, a thousand percent serious in his words.

“okay,” you flutter your lashes.

“you promise you’ll tell me if you fell uncomfortable in the slightest?”

“pinky swear,” you hold your pinky out, heart beating in your chest as he wraps his own pinky around it, locking in the promise.

he uses the linked finger to pull you back closer to him kissing you as his hands then moving to rest on your thighs, thumbs massaging the interior while you begin grinding yourself on top of him lightly.

you begin feeling more sure of yourself, your hands gliding around jj’s pecs and biceps, “you’re so hot.”

“speak for yourself, y/n,” he breathes against your lips, cheeks flushed with need.

you moan softly when his hands slide up underneath your skirt, gripping at your ass roughly.

at this point, you’re dripping and you could care less about the slow foreplay. “i want it,” you whine quietly, your hands lingering at the zipper on his cargo shorts.

“you sure you can handle it?” he’s half-joking, of course.

“positive,” you nod quickly, “please baby?”

he groans through his teeth at the neediness in your voice, opting to flip you onto your back, gently resting your head against the arm rest of the couch. “you wanna move to the bed or stay here?”

“i don’t care,” you shrug, mind clouded with lust.

“pick one baby,” he replies, voice smooth and steady.

“mmm,” you begin thinking, “bed.”

he nods as he scoops you into his arms, letting your legs wrap around him, his hands supporting your weight as they grip your ass.

he lies you down at the head of the bed, resting you atop the comforter and your favorite pillow. he bites his lip in anticipation as he unbuttons and unzips his shorts, slipping them off and launching them across the room.

he spreads your legs slowly, eyes flitting back up to meet your nervous gaze, looking for your assurance before moving any further. you give him a quick nod, holding your breath as he slips your skirt off, his fingers gliding against the edge of your panties.

he unbuttons your shirt from the bottom up, opting to leave it on as your chest and lacy bra is exposed. he breathes heavily at the sight of you, eyes wide and full of lust almost fully exposed for him. his dick is on the verge of bursting out of his boxers, tip leaking and as needy as you feel in this moment.

his muscles are detailed, flexing and unflexing with each movement he makes.

jj leans down to kiss you again, one arm steadying himself next to your head, the other hand rubbing your sopping wet pussy through your panties. the sensation makes you moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up slightly toward him. he takes that as his cue to slip his hand under your panties, groaning at the wetness pooling between your lips. he gathers some of it at the tip of his fingers, trailing it back up to your clit before swirling them around the sensitive button.

your eyes flutter at the feeling, one hand flying up to the back of his head as you tug at his hair roughly. “fuck,” you whisper, head flying back. “feels so good baby.”

he continues the motion for a few more moments before slipping a finger inside of you, kissing you as he does it. he glides it in and out a few pumps before adding another finger, his lips trailing down to your neck as he licks and bites the sensitive area. he continues that, hooking his fingers up inside of you as he pumps, watching intently as you moan and gasp, head thrown back against the pillow, one hand gripping his bicep as the other grasps at the comforter below you.

jj slips the panties off you, readjusting himself so that his face rests just above your glistening pussy. “she’s so pretty, baby.”

you blush at his statement, hands roving around his wavy locks as he begins lightly licking and kissing your sensitive area. you gasp at the new sensation, fingers yanking at his hair. “fuck, that’s,” you groan when he starts full-force kissing and sucking at your pussy, his tongue drawing shapes along your clit. “oh my god.”

he hums, one hand grasping his dick as the other holds your thighs apart, the vibration bringing you nearly to the edge of an orgasm. at that, he stops, leaving you to whimper at the loss of the sensation, the edging only making you want him more. “why’d you stop?” you whine desperately.

“because i wanna feel you cum around my dick, baby,” he pulls the boxers off, watching as your eyes go wide at the sight of his member, veiny and rock solid, his tip leaking needily as he reaches for his wallet on your nightstand, pulling a condom from one of the pockets. he quickly rips it open then glides it over his dick. “you ready, angel?”

you nod quickly, “i need it, jay.”

“whatever you want, sweet girl,” he positions himself back between your legs, his chain dangling in front of your face for a moment before he begins kissing down the side of your neck as he guides himself to your opening expertly. you hold your breath as he inches himself inside, fingernails cutting into his biceps.

he goes extremely slow at first, inching in and out to get you used to him before going to town.

the first time he bottomed out inside you, you jumped, letting out a yelp, causing him to quickly pull out and look at you with concern. “you okay?”

“yea, i jus- it was a lot,” you fail to meet eye contact with him, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

he grips your chin softly but firmly, forcing you to look at him, “hey. don’t feel embarrassed baby, let me know if i’m hurting you, it’s supposed to feel good, alright? remember our promise? i’m not gonna judge you for any of this. ever.”

you gaze at him for a moment, eyes full of love and tenderness. you nod and pull him back closer, this time using your own hand to guide him inside of you. you kiss him lovingly, teeth clashing together and tongues gliding in and out. it’s perfect, truly. you couldn’t have imagined someone better to have your first time with, and you’re beyond grateful that it’s someone as kind and nurturing as jj.

once he finds a groove that you both can enjoy, he begins going to town, thrusting in and out, leaving you clawing at his back.

“oh my god, jj you feel so good holy shit,” you cry out, face buried in the crook of his neck.

he groans, throwing his head back, “that pussy feels so fucking good, angel, you have no idea.”

he continues thrusting, watching you intently as your eyes begin rolling back, fingers clawing even deeper while your legs start closing in tightly around him. “that’s it, baby, lemme feel you cum around me.”

you let yourself revel in the feeling, the world around you disappearing for a moment while he groans, unable to stop himself from cumming with you. you feel him nut into the condom inside of you, pussy tingling at the sensation.

he holds his position for a moment, unmoving as you each catch your breath, just gazing at each other.

“wow,” you breathe out in awe, just beginning to get your normal headspace back. “that was awesome.”

jj chuckles, “glad you enjoyed, baby girl. i’m here anytime you wanna do it again,” he winks at you slyly.

you grin, wincing slightly as he pulls out. you watch him lovingly as he saunters to the bathroom for a moment to pee and dispose of the condom, heart fluttering when he returns with a damp washcloth to clean you up with.

he cleans you up before picking out a comfy set of underwear and pajamas and tucking you in under the blanket. he pulls you onto his chest after throwing his own boxers back on, his chest warm and comfier than ever.

“i love you,” you whisper, head resting atop his heart.

“i love you, sweet girl,” he kisses the top of your head as he scrolls through various streaming sites, looking for something good to watch.

“happy birthday baby,” you give him a brief squeeze.

“best birthday ever,” he huffs back, hand rubbing your back softly.

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @rubiehart

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ♡ 𝓒hapter 𝓕ifteen

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀while enduring this pregnancy journey, you unexpectedly meet miguel’s mother and she offers support. miguel finally returns and he begs but you won’t give in. on a final note, you finally make a decision about the baby.

⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, pregnancy, emotional distress, arguments, swearing, heartbreak, weird chapter (beginning is reader’s pov, later half is where chapter 14 left off)

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

THREE WEEKS AGO.

since the ultrasound and that encounter with the little boy and his mother at the grocery store, you’ve been conflicted about this pregnancy. from the beginning, you were uncertain about keeping the baby because there was no room in your life for one. it was never a consideration to have children. but these recents events have slightly altered your view.

the ultrasound picture hangs on your fridge, a reminder of the reality you’re in now. a tiny blob currently growing in your womb. at first, it was stored away in your drawer of your nightstand to avoid seeing it but eventually your mind changed and decide to hang it up. you’re still somewhat fascinated by it, that tiny blob that will eventually be a miniature version of you, if you decide to keep it.

but that decision continues to linger in your mind as each day passes by. whenever you go out and see a mother with her child, you always envision your own scenarios with your own potential future child. those envisions always made your heart swell. the other day while taking luna out for a walk, you saw a woman with her daughter, who appeared to be a toddler, having their own little mother-daughter picnic. both wearing matching dresses with floral prints. it was such a heartwarming scene, the mother showing off her affection for her daughter with hugs and kisses over her head. just like any other scenery, you envision yourself with your child, in this case a daughter. having your own little picnic and wearing matching dresses, cute mother-daughter bonding.

you didn’t realize tears slowly swelling up in your eyes until your sight became a bit glossy. the conflicting emotions were too intense that you had to walk away, rushing back to your apartment. that was when you decided to hang up the ultrasound pic.

the conflict grew more complicated and it was annoying the hell out of you. but with these heartwarming scenarios, you’ve been gradually leaning towards the possibility of keeping and having the baby. imagined a miniature version of you wandering around the apartment, giggles and babbles bouncing off the four walls, luna being chased by the baby. these types of scenarios were making the decision more complex than it already is. but the fear and uncertainty still lingers as well.

lately, your friends have been visiting you to check how you’re doing and wondering if you need anything. lyla would blurt out a million questions about the pregnancy and what it’s like growing another human inside you, she’s a little nerd on the inside. mj would be making and prepping a nice cup of tea or whatever drink you want. anne would grab blankets to provide you comfort you need especially during these chilly nights. all of you huddled together as if it’s a sleepover during your teen years.

the boys would visit as well. peter would tag along with mj after getting off from work like the first time. eddie would show up at your door with whatever food you were craving with a stupid smile on his face, both of you munching on the food while shit-talking about jameson and any other asshole from work. one visit, anne tagged along with him which surprised you and made you raise a brow. their excuse was for accidentally arriving at the same time. you couldn’t help but smirk, they definitely showed up together. harry made a stop by and offered comfort. like everyone else, he offered support but it was different since the man was loaded as hell. in the end, you are forever grateful to supportive and caring friends.

but you were still missing the support and care from one specific person. miguel still hasn’t responded and you give up at this point. the message was clear he did not want to be involved and never return so why bother anymore. no matter how much you wish for him to answer back and show up at your door, you had to get over it. waiting on him was killing you. you had to stop hanging onto that thread of hope. there wasn’t any left, it vanished completely.

you had to let him go.

no matter how much you didn’t want to and now matter how much it made your heart ached.

but the pain and suffering he inflicted on you forever has a profound impact. there were still moments, mostly at night, you would shed tears because of his negligence and betrayal. still in disbelief that the very man who vowed his love to you, made you feel loved and valued like no other, abandoned you when you needed him the most. left you with another broken heart expect this one hurt more than ever because you believed he truly loved you like you did him.

as days passed, that love you held for miguel in your heart gradually transformed into hatred. your heart no longer beats with warm and adoration but instead resentment and anger. once red now black and cold, as if it has rotten like an apple. perhaps like the poison apple from snow white.

joel broke your heart, miguel rotten it.

perhaps love was a complete joke.

you truly believed miguel was different than joel. he would restore your broken heart and replace that pain with new profound love. however, he did the same as well but rotten your heart with false hope instead. the second man to damage your heart.

only pain and anger beats for them both.

the text messages and calls stopped. there were utterly useless and it was clear miguel wouldn’t come back. the conclusion was that he wouldn’t be in the picture and you didn’t care anymore. his silence was enough for you that you no longer needed him. it may be a difficult journey but you can do it without that asshole. you won’t let miguel win.

currently, you’re returning from the local bookstore that is around the block. luckily pets were allowed so you were able to take luna with you. a sci-fi horror book was your new purchase and to be added to your book collection. it also severed as a reminder to clean out your bookshelf of books you no longer need or like anymore, it’s a bit cramped as well.

heading to your apartment, you notice a woman standing in the middle of the hallway, more precisely in front of your apartment. your brows furrowed slightly in confusion as you slowly approach her. the woman seems to hear you as she turns around. curly brunette with little streaks of silver.

she offers a kind smile. “hello, are you…” your eyes widen a little when she mentions your name.

“yes…” you say skeptically. “and you are…?”

“i’m conchata o’hara, miguel’s mother.”

you stand there in shock. you finally met his mother. never would’ve thought of actually meeting her one day, mainly due to what miguel had told you about their estranged relationship.

but the real question is: why is she here?

now you’re even a bit more skeptical.

“forgive me for arriving unexpectedly, i know we’ve never properly met due to my and miguel’s situation so it may be a bit awkward.”

she seems to be… decent so far.

“the reason i came here today is because i know about the whole situation.”

well, it’s not like miguel is here and she could visit.

she takes one step closer, a sorrowful expression on her face. “first and foremost, i want to say i’m so sorry you’re battling this alone.”

oh… this was a little unexpected.

“you shouldn’t be and i’m so sorry. i wanted to come here to see you. i understand if you don’t wish to accept it since i’m miguel’s mother but believe me, i’m just as furious at him as much as you are, hija.”

so she aware of his son’s stupidity, good to know you both are on the same page. since she’s his mother, she most definitely pissed the hell off like you. a mother’s fury, especially a latina mother, is something everyone is afraid of.

“i… i appreciate that very much, señora.”

“please, call me conchata.” she offer a kind smile.

you lightly shake your head, smiling back. “i like to be polite, especially meeting for the first time.”

“you’re very kind, hija. really too kind.”

“would you like to come in? i can make café if you like?” you offer kindly.

“i would love that very much.”

you welcome conchata into your home. luna greets the woman with several barks before silently sniffing at her ankles with her tail wagging. as you heading to the kitchen to make coffee, conchata gently guides you to the living room instead.

“i can make it, hija. don’t worry about it.”

“but you’re my guest, it’s okay.” you kindly inject.

“you’ve got to much on your hands. please don’t worry, it’s the least i can do.”

sighing, you comply. you sit down on the couch while conchata makes the coffee. orange juice was your choice of beverage due to your pregnancy. after a few minutes, she returns with a mug in one hand and your glass of orange juice in the other. you thank her with a kind smile as she hands your glass of juice and she takes a seat on the other side of the couch.

“firstly, how are you doing, dear?”

you knew she’s referring to the pregnancy. “i’m alright. thankfully, i don’t have morning sickness anymore and i can actually function.”

the woman smiles softly, relieved to hear you’re doing better. “i’m very glad you’re feeling better. i remember it and i do not miss it. i couldn’t leave the bed for weeks, it was un dismadre.”

you softly chuckle, feeling a bit bad for her. “how awful, i’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

she waves it off with a hand. “the glories of pregnancy, such a beautiful thing.”

you can sense the sarcasm in her tone, making you chuckle because it’s true. everyone experiences pregnancy differently and most deal with morning sickness, at different levels yet still an awful experience. truly such a beautiful thing.

you notice her expression gradually transforms into a more remorseful one, sensing the shift of the atmosphere into deep seriousness.

“i just… can’t believe this…” her tone grows quiet, remorseful. “i know i said this before but i am incredibly sorry you’re dealing with this, hija.”

your expression matches her own, silently listening.

“i just can’t believe he would do this…” she truly sounds in disbelief, shocked at her son’s idiotic behavior. “when peter called me and told me everything, i wanted to find him and kill him.”

your eyes widen ever so slightly at her confession but ultimately understand. hearing about your own son disappearing after getting a girl pregnant would set your entire body on fire with pure fury.

“i raised him to be a good man and to be a responsible human being.” her tone turns serious for a moment. “i raised him to be better.”

conchata did, in fact, raised a good man. before everything collapsed, miguel was a kindhearted man. offered his services, fixed your bookshelf and car engine, offered his jacket when you were cold at coney island, always gave you compliments and sweet praises, made you feel happy and safe.

you just wondered why that all was thrown out the window the minute he left.

“what miguel did was irresponsible.” she states firmly, staring at you with such seriousness. “he left you alone to deal with this, it’s unacceptable. i want you to know that i’m beyond furious with him. that man is not my son with that idiotic behavior.”

wow, you like her more.

“if he ever decides to come back, don’t feel obligated to forgive him. i’m not here to persuade you to take him back, no absolutely not. it’s your decision whether to forgive him or not. what miguel did hurt you indefinitely and it’s not forgivable.”

you internally agree with conchata and appreciate her support wholeheartedly. she is right, he did hurt you indefinitely and it’s left a large scar on you.

she sighs deeply before continuing on. “i also understand your uncertainty about… the baby.”

suddenly, you feel your breathe caught in your throat. the grandmother of your potential future child sits in front of you asking about the said child. a sudden wave of anxiousness course through you.

conchata seems to notice your anxious state and gently takes your hand in hers. “whatever your decision you’ll make, i’ll support you completely. you choose what’s best for you. this concerns your well-being, you choose for yourself.”

her supportive words makes your heart melt. you truly appreciate it, especially from her.

“if you choose to keep it, i’ll 100% support you and the baby. whatever you need, i’ll be there.” she states with such sincerity. “if not, i’ll still be there to support you through the process. my house is open to you, and the baby if you choose to keep it. in any scenario, i am here to support and help you, hija.”

suddenly you feel tears prickling in your eyes. the pregnancy hormones only make you more emotional. her support truly means significantly to you and you can’t help but pull her into a tight embrace which conchata gladly accepts, like a mother would.

“thank you so much.” you sniffle.

“of course, hija.” she gently rubs your back.

after a moment, you release each other from the emotional embrace. conchata hands you tissues from the box sitting on the coffee table, quietly thanking her as you take them from her.

“your words and support mean so much to me… appreciate it so much, mrs, o’hara. i’m forever grateful, gracias.” you smile through tears.

she offers a smile. “of course, hija. i’m here for you, my doors are always open to you. anything you need, don’t ever hesitate to reach out, you’re not alone.”

that last phrase makes you tear up again.

‘you’re not alone.’

you know you have supper from friends. you still heavens told your family, nevertheless your parents and you’re still nervous to tell them. the day will eventually come when you’re ready. but now with conchata’s support, you truly don’t feel that alone anymore. miguel is still gone but at least his mother has sympathy and common sense.

after cleaning up tears and the dishes, you and conchata exchange goodbyes. giving you one final reminder to reach out for help. once she left and you close the door, you glance down at your tummy. you place a hand over it, as if silently communicating with the tiny life form growing inside. letting them know that they would have support. the thought makes your heart swell once again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

PRESENT DAY.

all the blood flowing through your veins went entirely cold. the beating of your heart suddenly stops. waves of fury corses through you like a tsunami. you can feel the anger radiating from your skin.

miguel is back.

the son of bitch that abandoned you finally came back, standing in front of you with a scared expression that pisses you off. after 3 weeks of abandonment, the bastard decides to finally show up. you scoff mentally at the thought, in pure disbelief at his sudden return.

part of you wants to cry and yell at him for the pain he caused. scream all the pain and suffering right in his fucking face. kick and punch the shit out of him. if you weren’t carrying a tiny being in your belly, you would beat the shit of miguel with no hesitation. back in your teen years, you use to put bitches back in their place if they messed with you. unfortunately, you can’t give miguel the same treatment.

“you son of a bitch…”

miguel gulps anxiously at your cold tone of hatred that you harbor for him, rightfully so. it wasn’t the saw gentle tone contained with love and gentleness. not in the sweet manner you used to talk to him. he feels trails of sweat down the back of his neck.

“bebé, i—”

“shut the fuck up.”

you cutting him off so abruptly makes miguel wince, he feels utterly pathetic and guilty. you notice it and you scoff mentally, he really was pathetic.

“you fucking asshole…”

miguel deserves every derogatory word from you. asshole, bastard, son of a bitch, all of it he deserves it. he calls himself all those terms too. he deserves every once of your anger towards him.

“you left me…” you whisper with such sadness and anger, feeling tears gradually swelling in your eyes.

you sound so heartbroken that it stabs miguel right in the fucking heart a million times. he can feel his own tears swelling his eyes of guilt.

“lo siento, bebé—”

“you LEFT me!” you snap at him, eyes wide in fury which silents him immediately. “you left me for 3 fucking weeks, miguel! you left me to deal with this shit by MYSELF! I CALLED YOU AND TEXTED YOU AND YOU NEVER ANSWERED!”

your voice of frustration echos throughout the entire parking garage. it wouldn’t be a surprise if people, either inside or outside, could hear.

miguel just stands there like the pathetic, guilty fuck he is. eyes swelled with tears, on the verge of breaking down. your voice of frustration and hurt ringing in his ears, stabbing his heart.

this is where his idiotic decisions led to, you screaming and crying at him.

“I WAS SO FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT YOU! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! I TRUSTED YOU! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!”

miguel panics at that. “i do love you!—”

“NO YOU DON’T BECAUSE YOU FUCKING LEFT ME!” you shout, allowing those tears to fall. “YOU LEFT ME WHEN I NEEDED YOU THE MOST!”

that was a big stab to his heart. it’s the truth, he did leave you when you needed him the most and miguel is a fucking idiot for not realizing sooner. you had to navigate this life-changing situation on your own without his support. you were dealing with this, stressed out and crying for unforgettable hours while his stupid ass was back at his stupid cabin.

he felt tears running down his cheeks.

“i needed you, miguel!” you sob, making it incredibly difficult for miguel to not rush over, cradle for your face and wipe your tears away.

the guilt was hitting him like a train. those tears of pain and sadness in those beautiful eyes kills him, especially knowing he is the cause of them.

“i needed you…” you sob uncontrollably, not caring how much of a mess you are right now. “i was so alone… abandoned…”

now he’s crying as well, the guilt hitting him harder.

“i waited… waited for you to come back…” another sob. “but you didn’t.” your tone went cold for a sec.

he should’ve gone back sooner so you wouldn’t have gone through so much suffering he caused. but he can’t change the past, the damage is done and miguel has no control over it.

“i went to the doctor’s appointment alone… sitting in the lobby alone in a room with other patients with their partners… supporting and comforting them… DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD THAT WAS?! SITTING THERE AND WATCHING THEM GETTING THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THEM NEEDED WHILE I WAS SITTING ALL ALONE?!”

miguel feels like the biggest asshole in the entire universe. he remembers your text that day after unlocking his phone weeks later and how he broke down into tears. now hearing it again from you makes him cry harder, the guilt consuming him.

“I FELT SO FUCKING MISERABLE!” you shout, sobbing uncontrollably once again. “I HAD TO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT BY MYSELF! I CRIED SO MANY TIMES BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU DID!”

it kills him to think about it, the amount of tears you shed because of him. miguel really hates himself.

you pause a moment to wipe some tears away. miguel still fought the urge to wipe them away himself because he knows he can’t.

“i trusted you… with everything… my heart…” your voice dies down, now more remorseful which makes miguel’s heart ache. “i really thought you were different… i thought you were the right man… a good, caring person… i thought you were the one…”

miguel stares at you with wide, tearful eyes. he wanted to be the right man, he still wants to be the right man. but his stupid actions changed that.

“but i guess not.”

now he starts to panic. no, no, no. he still wants to be the right man for you. miguel loves you and he doesn’t want to lose you… but he already did.

“i thought joel broke my heart and he did but you… you just rotten it to the fucking core.”

miguel’s own heart shatters at that. putting him and that asshole joel in the same sentence makes him seethe, remembering what joel did to you, but realizes he hurt you more.

“mi amor, please i’m so so so sorry. i should never have left you alone, i scared of—”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “scared of what?”

“losing you!” he cries.

“you lost me the moment you walked out that door.”

miguel’s eyes widen once again. panic causes him to step forward and reach out with a shaky hand. “please mi alma, let me explain—”

“stay the fuck away from me.”

the bastard winces again and immediately steps back, shooting a remorseful glance.

“you hurt me, miguel, and i will never forgive you.”

his teary eyes widen once again. but then he remembers his mother’s words.

‘then don’t expect forgiveness immediately.’

‘i won’t forgive you until she forgives you. but i highly doubt she will and i do not blame her one bit.’

you won’t be forgiving him, not any time soon or ever which means his mother won’t either. but your forgiveness is much more important.

your expression turns cold, serious as you glare up at him with piercing eyes. “i don’t give a fuck about your excuse. i’ll say this once and once only, stay the fuck away from me and my baby.”

miguel’s eyes widen in shock again, both at your cold demeanor and the word ‘baby.’ he didn’t have time to respond expect standing there like a fool as you rush past him without sparing one final glance, leaving him alone in the parking garage. tears trailing down his face as he process everything that just happened. he feels his whole body go into panic mode, chest heaving and breathing heavily. feeling the entire world crumbling in his grasp as you walk away.

that’s when it hits him, he just lost you forever.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

ever since the argument with miguel, you’ve been staying at anne’s apartment. despite telling him to stay away from you, you knew he would keep running back to you since you’re literally next door neighbors. luckily, anne was kind enough to offer and allow you to stay at her place until things cool down. but honestly, who knows when that will happen.

since the argument, miguel has been leaving hundreds of text messages and calls. oh how the tables have turned. you blocked his number, thinking you should’ve done it sooner the moment he left and never came back for a while. but at least he gets a taste of his own fucking medicine.

with all these emotions, you’ve been thinking hard lately on your decision about the pregnancy. reflecting back your argument with miguel, you remember telling him to stay away from you and your baby. you referred to the tiny blob growing inside your belly as your baby, officially. you just said it to spite him, it was a spur of the moment. but reflecting on it got you thinking hard about this baby.

you’ve been rethinking everything. in the beginning, you were very uncertain about having a baby. there was no space in your apartment for another being, nevertheless a baby. although, you do make enough money to support another person. being a journalist does make you come home with some bank. it’s possible to make a small savings for baby stuff, a crib, car seat, stroller, diapers, and clothes. money doesn’t seem to be an issue. you just have to make little room for a crib, it can work out or just look for a place with two bedrooms would be easier.

but what’ve you been really thinking about is sarah, joel’s daughter. reflecting on those times during your relationship with joel, despite joel himself and his idiotic behavior, it was beautiful. sarah was a daughter to you and treated her as if she were your own. the way she sometimes called you ‘mom’ always made your heart skip a beat. earning such a title with significant meaning was an honor. she viewed you as a role model and a mother figure she’s been needing since her biological mother left once she was born. you stepped into that role and you enjoyed it very much. all the time you had spent together, shopping at the mall, painting each others nails, cooking and baking together, gossip about boys she had crushes on, do pranks on joel. you never realized how much you missed that.

sarah was your first glimpse at motherhood. you miss that bond. with this baby, you might have a second chance at having that bond again. don’t be mistaken, you miss sarah terribly, she is forever in your heart and viewed as a daughter to you. but with your own baby, you get to relive that bond on a much bigger level. a true shot at motherhood. perhaps you are ready for motherhood and just didn’t realize you’ve experienced it before.

luckily it was your day off so you remained in anne’s place and quickly texted the girls to come over to tell them big news regarding the baby. a few hours later, anne, lyla and mj show up with anticipated faces. all gathered up sitting at the dining table, they anxiously wait for the big announcement to come.

“so i finally made a decision….”

they can feel their hearts beating in anticipation. of course they knew about your uncertainty about the baby, whether you’d keep it or not. especially how terrified you were in the beginning. they all have been so supportive of you throughout this shitshow. now it’s finally time for the big reveal.

you, on the other hand, are anxious as your fiends are. heart pounding in your chest due to the anxiety flowing through your veins. it was a major thinking process for coming to a decision but part of you is finally prepared to finally reveal it.

“i’m keeping the baby.”

cries of relief fills in the air as your friends approach you with tearful eyes, warm embraces, and words of encouragement. that heavy feeling on your chest is finally lifted. the anxiety has suddenly vanished and relaxed with relief and happiness. for the first time in weeks, you cry tears of happiness.

you’re keeping this baby and are willing to take steps for preparing for motherhood. there were many doubts in the beginning but you’re fully confident to take this big step in your life. you want this baby and raise it with nothing but love and care.

but you also want to show that you’re capable of raising a baby on your own without miguel. you want to show him that you can do this without him because you don’t need him. he lost the right the moment he wakes out the door. you’re going to show him you can do anything and nothing will stop you.

miguel can go fuck himself.

you and your friends end the night celebrating your big exciting news. while enduring a night of celebration, many blocks away back at your apartment building, miguel sits at the edge of his bed breaking down into tears for the nth time as he stares remorsefully at the picture of you and him at coney island you’d taken in a photo booth. drowning himself in tears of guilt as he realizes what he’s lost.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth @ghostsdoll ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[snakesafraidtodie]

Danny just wanted to get some much needed funds from the shmucks who thought they could cheat death. He did NOT anticipate kicking off diplomatic negotiations with every world government, heck every government in the universe over trans-dimensional jurisdiction and citizenship. He just thought it would be funny to go “lol you didn’t die so pay up” and in response got a bunch of politicians and world leaders going- “Oh you’re claiming OUR citizens as belonging to you? That’s a bold claim. Almost sounds like you’re trying to invade! We could take this as a sign of war!”

And of course the inflammatory voices of the indignant few in power drown out those who actually know what they’re talking about. Magicians and occultists watch the news while hyperventilating because “what the fuck are you doing!? We do NOT want a war with the infinite realms, are you trying to get us all wiped out!?”

Meanwhile Danny is forced to switch to a political science major in order to fix this mess he started, because he ALSO does not want to go to war with the living, Ancients- he just wanted to troll some assholes and get some pocket cash and do good with the extra!

And the denizens of the realm are watching their king crumble under the weight of it all. So they band together in order to “fix” the situation.

First, some of the famous historical dead from every country/planet/power that are complaining go as self appointed ambassadors. They explain that the dead have no use for mortal money- that King Phantom plans to use the tax to aid the living, preventing deaths and thereby doing the opposite of expanding his kingdom.

and when this doesn’t work? Well they give a little demonstration as to why you don’t want to mess with the Realms. They gleefully cause havoc and sew what is, to them, harmless chaos, terrifying the living in the process. Each and every time they send a runner to alert their King- the poor child requires exercise and enrichment after all, and he can’t get that behind a desk. So having him fight off “ghost rebels” in defense of the living does double duty of demonstrating his power and benevolence while also giving him a break from the boredom.

Phantom is NOT aware of this plan. From his point of view a bunch of war hungry governments got offended by his whim and now a bunch of ghosts keep causing trouble with said angry politicians and interrupting his attempts to FIX IT. Danny is STRESSED.

But it all works out in the end and somehow throughout all this Danny manages to keep his secret identity through use of purposeful (and unintentional) delegation, the fact that he he always stops the rabble-rousers in his kingly eldritch form because he’s so pissed, and the fact that his human form looks so utterly wrecked from stress and sleep loss that even when people see what he’s working on they assume he is the ghost king’s human PA or something.

When it’s all over the Justice league summons the Ghost King Phantom in order to issue an official apology on behalf of earth’s more stubborn governments as well as a similar statement from the green lanterns in regards to other planets. King Phantom answers the summons, first in his minorly eldritch form, then his plain old Phantom form to preserve energy when he realizes the Justice League aren’t a threat. And then as the adrenaline fades and the last however-many-months catch up to him, Phantom can’t help but switch back to human Danny, collapsing to the floor of the watchtower bay surrounded by the Justice League, fast asleep.

DCxDP - Death and Taxes

Broke college student but also the Ghost King Danny looking at the stack of complaint forms in his inbox about people cheating death. In a stroke of sleep deprived inspiration, he issues a royal decree that anyone who has properly died before (I.e biologically dead, not just clinically dead) is still a citizen of the Infinite Realms, even if they were resurrected. And have to pay income tax to the Crown.

He establishes the Infinite Realms Revenue Service, recruits the ghosts of some meticulous accountants and sends them after all the assholes who think they can escape Death and Taxes. Starting with the worst offenders (ie those who have escaped death the longest/most often). Your tax bracket scales with how many times you died.

Just picture Ra's al-Ghul, in the middle of giving some speech to his assassin cult when this Phil Coulson looking ghost dude shows up behind him to "discuss the back taxes he owes to the Crown".

Every magic user worth their salt is suddenly swamped with messages from panicked villains and heroes who are trying to figure out wtf is going on and how to get out of this. Constantine is sweating bullets.

Danny hires Valerie to do mortal side "casework", because a, she's just as saddled with student debt as he is b, has worked fast food and knows how to handle asshole customers c, doesn't take shit from anybody.

Imagine Vandal Savage, Felix Faust and Red Hood awkwardly sitting in a waiting room with a stack of documents each, ready for their number to be called so they can dispute their claims. Being called in and utterly flummoxed at the unflappable, bored young woman at the desk who somehow has files on everything about you - birth record, death record(s), who you killed and when records... now declare your income as a crime lord/dictator/sorcerer, sir.

Meanwhile Danny is planning on how he can allocate the taxes to open a soup kitchen for Lunch Lady to work at and similar shit. He is determined to be a good king, dammit!

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: I've Seen This Film Before

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.6K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: ANXIETY ATTACKS/RESPONSE, trauma from abusive mother, description of child neglect/abuse

—————

I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending

You're not my homeland anymore so what am I defending now?

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

I think I've seen this film before

The booth table at the Tipsy Bison is frighteningly quiet with the attendants staring at each other. You sit on one side of it your hands picking the table and on the other side is your mother…and father. The decision to meet wasn’t on your terms but the constant pressure they put on Tommy until you agreed. Joel and Maria were a hundred percent on your side of not wanting to see them but it seemed they wouldn’t stop harassing Tommy until they spoke to you since you now remained at Joel and Ellie’s home having moved back to your old bedroom. The dynamic between the three of you is different, while your relationship with Ellie never changed but did grow stronger it was the change with Joel. He was more active speaking to you and not at you, asking about you which at first was weird and awkward going into it, but soon it became more natural. While some of the conversations have awkward silences where either of you don’t know what else to say or when speaking with Ellie or the others all together you and Joel had similar quips or reactions. This conversation however was the last thing you wanted. Your fingers continue picking at the wood not making eye contact with either of them.

“Y/n…” Your mother starts and you glance at her through your lashes before returning your gaze to the table, “We wanted to see if you’d rather come back to live with us. Given Tommy and Joel’s gracious work taking care of you we think you overstayed your welcome.” She says and you continue picking at the wood. Your mother knew this was different than all the conversations before you were a child with no sense of autonomy but you were older, mature, having grown up on your own following your rules for self-preservation. Your father's hand slaps hard on the table and your gaze snaps up to stare at him and he looks frustrated.

“Your mother is trying to reason with you,” He says and you narrow your eyes at him before glancing at your mother who looks tired by the circles they are running in and the hoops they have to jump through. You take this chance to look at him. You had the same colored eyes and you’d say the same skin tone, but he also had the same one as your mother. There wasn’t much to take in he looked rugged and a bit haggard for his age. When you imagined your father you didn’t picture this.

“Y/n,” Your mother calls to you and your gaze snaps to her recognizing that tone, “We’re appreciative of all they’ve done but they only watched you as a responsibility. You were only a burden for them to shoulder. You can do good by leaving.” You feel your skin crawl as she reaches out to grasp your hand. You go to pull but her fingers dig into your forearm and your eyes widen as you look at her. Her fingers rest right where those old scars from years ago rest feeling like you dragged back to being held down as the stick carves into your skin burning the flesh raw.

“This is what’s going to happen, when we leave you’re going to go to Tommy and Joel and thank them for all they’ve done and come live with your actual family.” She says her words as a command not leaving any room for discussion, “Do you know how embarrassing it is knowing that my daughter doesn’t want to be with her family like she hates us? Is that it, you hate me so much you’d abandon your father and sister.” She says and you feel a tighten in your chest at her words, the familiar words and demeaning words getting its grip on you.

“That’s not-” “You left Y/n not me. After everything I did to raise you and keep you alive. How do you repay me? By running off and playing family with some people who don’t even know you.” She says releasing her vice grip and standing up.

“Mom stop it,” You say as your father joins her.

“I’m sorry that’s who I am right? I thought that title goes to Maria or do you call Joel or Tommy dad?” She says and your throat tightens at the digs she throws. “Maybe it was a mistake finding you.”

“I’ll go with you!” You grab her arm stopping her from leaving. From letting her abandon you cause of the stupid choices you made. “Please…don’t leave me,” She stops and you shrink at her face when she turns. You really did it this time making her upset. Her hands stroke your cheek and you flinch by instinct. A kiss is placed on your forehead and a single droplet slips from your eyes, you’re not sure she’s ever kissed you. It’s still unnerving by the affection.

“What have I said Y/n about the tears,” She tuts and you quickly rub the tear away sniffling back more. Once she sees them all gone she gives a proud grin, “Alright go run off and let them know of the change. We’ve got placed at the corner of Connors Drive in the blue house.”

It was raining today and most people avoided outside but you mindless walk through the streets to Rancher Street. It was decided to return to Joel’s home where the others would be waiting for the news. Self-doubt crept in if this was a smart idea, just ignore your mother and stay with The Millers and Ellie, but then you would be abandoning your mother and that would kill her. Part of you wanted to run and hide back in your cabin from the world and all those who know you. The familiar home stands before you as you enter the gate your hand tracing the mailbox that reads ‘Joel Miller + Ellie Williams’. Maybe your name could have ended up there. Who are you kidding your mother was right you were only a burden, Joel didn’t need to worry about another person and Tommy and Maria had Liam to take care of.

The door creaks open and those waiting in the living room perk up hearing the sound of the rain outside before the door closes again. Joel had spent the time pacing while the others tried distracting each other but it was hard to. He’s the first to spot you when you round the corner drenched from the rain a conflicted look on your face.

“Kiddo?” Joel starts but you quickly cut him off.

“Thank you guys for everything you’ve done but I going to live with my family now.” You say and you don’t even dare to look at them your eyes glued to your shoes.

“What you can’t!” Ellie stands from the couch still holding Liam and shouts, “You can’t just leave us!”

“I appreciate you taking me in when you could’ve left me in that cell, but I’m done burdening you.” You say and even Tommy who was in the middle ground was shocked by the words coming out of your mouth.

“Burden? Kid, you’re far from that,” Tommy says and you keep your gaze firm away from them.

“You’re not leaving kiddo,” Joel says and for the first time you look at them, “Your reaction to seeing them isn’t how a kid reacts to being reunited with their family, so no you aren’t leaving.”

“You don’t get to make that decision,” You snap glaring at him.

“Y/n she’s not a good mother and you know it,” Maria says and you feel frozen at the callout and everyone else is confused by the sudden comment.

“Shut up,” You hiss shocking them with the sudden hostility and a warning look sent to Maria to keep her mouth shut.

“Wanna tell them who gave them those burns or shall I,” She says, and it's dead silent as it processes through the other three what was just said. Joel was filled with rage, some directed at you for keeping it a secret but primarily at your mother. What woman causes such pain to a child?

“Or how she made you sleep in the cold by a broken radiator, or let you have injuries fester as a child forcing yourself to learn to stitch cuts, treating your garbage and you just defend her,” Maria says with each step towards you and your hands clench in your fists.

“That’s not her,” You respond and Maria scoffs.

“So she didn’t burn you?” She asks and you shake your head.

“No, I did them,” Immediately defensive.

“You’re a liar,” Maria rebuttals, “Y/n I don’t understand why you let her treat you like this. She’s not a good mother.” She tries resting a hand on your shoulder but you smack it away.

“Yes, she is!” You shout your voice shaky until it grows cold, “You don’t get to talk about being a good mother. Where’s your son huh? Some mother you are.” Venom is spat and Maria physically recoils.

“Y/n!” “Hey!” Tommy and Joel shout at you for such a comment, “You’re done, kid. You’re not going back there. I don’t care what they say.” Joel says.

“Fuck you, Joel. You can’t keep me here.” You hiss and he steps forward and grabs your wrist, “If I gotta lock you up until you understand what she’s doing to you then so be it.” It’s instinctually your fist smashes against his face and he cries out and it’s chaos. Joel stumbles back clutching his bloody nose, Ellie is crying with Liam screaming and crying and Maria instantly shields them. Tommy tries to grab you but you dodge his grasp and sprint down the hallway hearing the pounding footsteps behind you, grabbing the bookshelf against the wall and pulling with your strength until it falls over blocking the hallway with a loud crash. Darting into your room where you slam and lock the door hearing the pounding on the door as you shove your dresser to barricade yourself in. Grabbing your pack and shoving anything you can carry.

“Y/n open the damn door!” Tommy shouts and you hear the shouts from Joel, “Fucking kick it down!” As you scramble faster and move to the window hearing a body slamming against the door. The door cracks breaking the lock as it pushes open making the dresser slide, Tommy and Joel spill in seeing the disarray in the room with the open window and the curtains moving in the rain storm.

2 Months Later

It was May the snow long melted but the coldness and tension between yourself and the Miller remains frozen. Since that argument and fight that was the last time you spoke to any of them. You stopped working at the stables from was a hesitant decision but your mother solidified it.

“You’re going to end up running into them and all those emotions will come back,” She said and when you stop showing up to your shifts they got the message and replaced you. Your days consisted of waking up, cleaning the house, taking care of Lila while your mother and father went out to do their community jobs, then just waiting for the day to be over to repeat for the past two months. No one rarely saw you unless you dropped Lila off at the school where you sometimes ran into Ellie but ignored them and rushed back home. There were times your parents would take you out to the Tipsy Bison and you’d see the Millers across the room and they would notice you were there as well, but they never dare approach.

There had been a time when Joel showed up at your home demanding to speak to you and your father answered, the two almost getting into an altercation if Tommy hadn’t dragged his brother home. Now it’s just burning gazes from Joel across the room or when you walk down the street and he happens to be there. When you joined your mother you thought it would be everything you imagine. Being a large happy family but how wrong you are as you are quickly thrust back into the lifestyle you had growing up. Horrible living conditions and little to no acknowledgment from your mother, but it is only once you need to leave those four walls you have to keep up appearances that everything is fine. You lie awake some nights wondering if you made the right choice but quickly shut it down imagining your mother’s voice.

‘You’re such a horrible child how dare you think that.’

‘I’ve done everything for you and this is how you repay me.’

‘The Millers could never treat you as good as I do.’

‘They don’t understand what’s wrong with you only I can take of you’

‘You can’t abandon me, I love you so much.’

You think when she says ‘she loves you’ it feels emptier each time, but you grow to crave it. Just that hit of praise knowing it was so disingenuous but your twisted mind makes you feel like everything was perfect.

The streetlamps flicker as you carry groceries to restock, your mother wanting you to avoid the people in the early times forcing you to be there right as the close inconveniencing those working there who want to go home, especially with the ridiculous list you have. Your pack is like a dead body on your back as you carry another bag slung across your chest constantly hitting your hip with each step wincing at the bruise that rests there. You had gotten her angry and she shoved you, your hip slammed against the island in the kitchen. It was your fault though. You had taken a nap and slept in at the time Lila needed to be picked up from school leading to the teacher having to go find your mother and father out having drinks at the Tipsy Bison.

The fraying strap from the bag snaps and the items and the bag topple onto the floor spilling everywhere. Curses spill from you as you try to pick up everything salvageable. Some items were broken and you already knew the amount of hell you’re gonna be put through.

“Kiddo?” A voice cuts through the night and you hiss as you flinch cutting your left palm on a broken jar of jam. Your gaze snaps up seeing Joel standing at the corner of the street, he has his pack over his back, and also slung over his shoulder is the object you’ve seen him use on the back porch. He spots the red coming from your palm as you squeeze it with your other hand, “Shit you alright kiddo?” He comes over his hand held out and freezes seeing the small flinch as he gets close to you. He lowers down to a knee as you keep clutching your palm to stop the bleeding.

“I’m fine Joel,” You snap but there seems to be no heat behind it, he can see the tiredness in your eyes, dark circles, and a draining look on your face lacking color and warmth. He slowly takes your hand and you don’t have the will to fight him as he looks over it. Pulling out a bandana he wraps your hand in it tightly and you wince.

“Sorry…” He mumbles and you bring your gaze to the destroyed food. “You need to get it properly wrapped it looks pretty deep.” He says and you rise to your feet holding the broken bag.

“It’s fine Joel really.” You try walking away, but the bag isn’t as secure and you almost drop the items, especially holding it with one good hand if Joel hadn’t swept in.

“Lemme just clean it up okay and fix this shitty strap,” He says and you look at him with cautious eyes, “Then I’ll leave you be,” He says honestly. You knew they would start wondering what was taking too long but you also knew it would take longer trying to talk Joel out of it.

“Just be quick.” You say and you almost catch the relaxation on his shoulders relieved you said yes. Joel takes the bag and leads you properly to sit on the curb underneath one of the streetlights. He gets to work removing his pack and the other object placing it beside you as he pulls out a small first aid kit. He undoes the makeshift bandage and you wince at the cut and the blood that starts flowing again.

“Doesn’t look that deep just needs a cleaning and wrapping,” He says pulling out a small bottle and rag, pouring water on it to clean most of the dried blood off. He reveals a smaller bottle and when he pours it on your fresh cut you hiss in pain trying to pull back but he stops you.

“It hurts!” You hiss and he nods.

“Just some alcohol to kill any germs you’re fine,” He says while pulling out bandages and wrapping your hand. You bring your attention elsewhere to the items that rest on the curb it’s an interesting shape with the strings. It looks like hollow on the inside. Joel seems to pick up on your interest.

“It’s a guitar. It’s a kind of instrument that makes music,” He says and you keep your gaze on the guitar. Once finished with your hand he moves to working on your bag. You can’t help to reach over and pluck a string a sweet noise rings through the air and your gaze snaps to Joel who is watching you with a soft smile.

“You press on this part which are the frets in certain positions to make other notes then pluck the respective string.” He says as you pluck another string that is the thickest it's a very low note, “That’s E.” You then move and pluck the thinnest one and it’s much higher.

“That’s also E.”

“How can they both be E?” You frown and he chuckles slightly and rubs the back of his neck,

“Uh, I don’t know they say the thicker E is used for fuller, richer sound, while the thinner E is better for soloing and playing higher notes.” He explains and you nod. You look seeing he’s finished fixing your bag and you accept the fixed item. He seems to hesitate to speak but decides to.

“If you’re interested in learning I can teach you.” He offers and you look from the guitar to Joel who looks a bit nervous. It did seem interesting and something to keep you occupied, but you aren’t sure your mother would allow that.

“I don’t think I can…I just have a lot of stuff to do at home,” You say and he gives a light ‘Right’ and it grows quiet between you too as you sit on the curb where he is beside you.

“Are you happy there?” He asks and you flash him a surprised look and you grow quiet. If this was any other scenario you would have responded instantly but you weren’t sure why you hesitated to.

“I—” “Y/n.” Your father’s voice cuts through the night and you instantly straighten up in concern and also partial fear. Since living with him he never hit you or got physical like your mother, but you just felt an off feeling from him. Sometimes he would make comments that didn’t feel fatherly and the few times you were alone it felt like he was staring at you for a second too long that made your skin crawl.

“Your mother is waiting for you, what the hell are you doing?” He asks coming over as he grasps your bad hand not paying the bandage any mind tugging you to your feet and you wince at the pressure.

“Careful,” Joel warns immediately rising to stand as well catching you wince as you hold your injured hand to your chest.

“She’s fine, now what are you doing wandering the streets?” He asks and you shrink away from his unsettling gaze.

“I ran into her dropping all these items and cut herself, just patching her up is all,” Joel defends you and you watch the two adults stare down each other before your father gives a grin that doesn’t radiate any kindness.

“That’s so kind of you Joel for taking care of my little girl,” He says while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his side and you cringe, “Well we better get going, you have a great night Joel.” He forces you to turn and start walking down the street.

“Y/n!” Joel calls out and you stop to glance behind you, “The offer for the guitar lessons still stands,” He says and you see it in his eyes, he’s giving you a chance to call for help. To do anything that’ll allow him to swoop in with no consequences.

“Thanks but she’s already pretty busy back at home. I’ll be sure to teach her though if she’s so interested.” Your father says and you see Joel’s face morph into a frown his cold look directed to your father.

“Do you know how to play?” He asks and your father stiffens at the callout.

“It’s a guitar it’s not rocket science,” He says and the two have a silent showdown before your father speaks again, “Have a good night, Joel.” He keeps leading you as you glance back seeing Joel’s defeated look standing under the streetlamp his guitar still on the curb.

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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[thethronezone]

The primarch dad tread is a delight to read and I would like to had a milestone of my own :) How will the dad host / celebrate their child birthday? Thinking a birthday for then they turn 10 or so, but you decide. Just wanna hear how they would handel a birthday party.

Mortarion doesn't know how to do it. His adoptive father on Barbarus was cruel and Mortarion's own birthdays had been filled with mockery, faux affection and him being treated like a prized pet at best. But Mortarion is not him and despite how foreign it all is to him, he does his best to celebrate his child. It's a small celebration, just him and his kid. Mortarion takes them somewhere, a nice little area that's quiet and private, where there's some food and a few gifts waiting. It's a brief celebration, just a couple of hours, but his child looks happy, smiling at him as if he placed the stars in the sky.

When his child's tenth birthday approaches, Fulgrim feels the need to go all out, he has to show everyone in the galaxy just how special they are, how much he adores them. His intentions are pure but the end result are... a lot. There are a lot of guests, politicians, generals, anyone Fulgrim has deemed important enough to attend. His child doesn't even recognize a hundredth of them. There's a mountain of gifts but they hadn't wished for any of it. Such lavish meals, all their favorites, but it tastes like gruel to them. Fulgrim is so busy dazzling the guests he doesn't notice that, despite being surrounded by people, his child has never looked so lonely.

Angron never got to celebrate his birthday. As a slave, that was never really on the table and as a Primarch, he considered the practice useless drivel. But he's a father now and his kid... his kid deserves something nice. First, he makes sure they celebrate the day with their friends. He's not there personally, he knows he would just ruin it somehow, but the astartes later tell him it was a huge success, that his child had fun the whole time. Good. And when that is over, when the guests all leave, that's when Angron approaches them. He places a hand on their head, roughly ruffles their hair, before he drops a gift in their arms and leaves without looking back. He doesn't say why, doesn't even congratulate them, but they know. Angron just hopes that's enough.

Magnus loves watching his child grown up, it fills him with pride every time he sees them discover a new aspect of life and discover who they are as a person. For him, their birthday is an opportunity to celebrate all they have accomplished and everything that awaits for them in the future. And through the celebration, Magnus keeps an eye on his child, making sure they are having fun. Their friends are here, most of them from school, but there are plenty of other guests as well, people that Magnus wants to witness just how much his child has grown, how great they have become.

Most of Perturabo's memories regarding birthdays were negative. There were a few exceptions, like when him and his sister had snuck away from the main party to enjoy a piece of cake together, but overall the negative experiences overwhelmed the positive ones. So, Perturabo tries to make sure his child doesn't experience that. This is THEIR day, they need to feel special and appreciated. Sadly, Perturabo can't let go of his need for control and somewhere along the way, the celebration turns into a task. A duty he has to perform. He forgets to celebrate and in turn, his child ends up feeling like they have done something wrong, because why else would their father look so unhappy?

The way Alpharius and Omegon celebrate their child's birthdays have always been different. To them, it's not just a day of celebration, but to test and see how far their child have come compared to last year. This time, on their tenth birthday, it starts with them finding a coded message in their room, which they much decode to find the next clue, which they need to solve, find more clues and so on. The Alpha Legion Primarchs observe from a distance as their child make their way forward, feeling a great sense of pride over the fact that their child is so clever. Only by gathering all the clues will the child find the location to their birthday party. A reward for a job well done.

Before the feast prepared in their honor, Lorgar holds his own little celebration with his child, just the two of them. He's always been proud of them, always felt such joy watching them grow up, but now it almost feels like they are growing up too quickly. Lorgar is aware that his child does not belong solely to him, they are a part of something much grander, but just for a short moment, he wants to be selfish. He gives them a gift, one straight from the heart, and remind them that he will always love them, that he's so proud of them and that nor a single day passes where he does not thank the divine for gifting him the miracle that is them. Holding their hand, they both leave for the feast and the guests waiting for them.

Horus' child is his pride and joy and he loves showing them off. For their tenth birthday, he holds a grand party in the Imperial Palace, in one of the many ballrooms that's connected to one of the gardens. There are so many guests, including the Mournival, all of them here because Horus wants them to see his child. Truly see them. Make no mistake, they might be here, enjoying the food and wine, but this is all about his kid and Horus expects them to congratulate them at least once. He frequently checks up on his child throughout the party, making sure they are having fun and enjoying themself. Each time he sees them, he ends up with a beaming smile.

When Konrad celebrates his kid's birthday, it's a very small, quiet, private occasion. Just him, his kid and their pet rat who they had refused to celebrate without. He's got a cake, decorated with ten candles, and a couple of gifts. It's a very peaceful moment and as his kid blows out the candles on the cake, Konrad feels a rare sort of peace. He has foreseen his own death and knows that the time he has with his child is limited. Normally, this fills him with bitterness and resentment, sorrow and melancholy. But right now? With his child right in front of him, feeding cake to their pet rat, he feels none of that. No, Konrad only feels content.

Sanguinius does not want to turn his child's birthday into a public spectacle so he keeps the celebration more private, with the guests being family and close friends. There's soft, happy music playing, a table filled with delicious food and plenty of spots where guests can sit down and socialize. Sanguinius stays close to his child though. Not hovering, but close by. He treasures every smile, every laughter and sears it into his memory so he'll never forget them. Even as he remembers that the birthdays they have left to share are limited, Sanguinius never stops smiling. He can't, not on their birthday, not in front of his child who is unaware that there's something wrong. For now, he's happy to pretend.

In a way, Corvus feels like it isn't fair. His child is growing up too fast, how much longer until they are no longer just his? It's a bittersweet feeling, a mixture of pride and guilt, as he watches them celebrate their tenth birthday. A private occasion, not a lot of people, but they are all earnest in their congratulations. His child looks happy and when he hands them the gift he made for them, large cloak they will grow into as they get older, they hug him so tightly that it almost hurts. And Corvus hugs them back, wishing that for just a moment, he could stop time.

When it came to his child's birthdays, Ferrus have always requested the help of Fulgrim to arrange the celebration. Nothing big, or needlessly grand, but something. It always ends up being a smaller event, less celebratory and more congratulatory. Some food, gifts, a pat on the back and a half-smile. And Ferrus feels like a terrible father each time because while his child looks satisfied, they don't look happy. He wants them to smile, to laugh and feel like, for just a moment, they can be the child they are. Ferrus feels like he is stealing their childhood from them and that's something he can never give back.

Every year, Rogal does the same thing for his kid's birthday. There's a small ceremony, with only him, his child and a few Imperial Fists present, where he expresses his pride for them and reminds them of the importance of duty and honor. It's a very serious moment. This is then followed by a slightly larger, more public, celebration. Still not very big, not a lot of guests, but personal. Genuine. The guests are there because they want to be, because they care. Rogal stays close to his child's side during most of the event, a comforting hand on their shoulder, and a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

Vulkan holds a grand celebration, a great feast for his child on their tenth birthday. Of course the Salamanders partake, having been integral to his child's life from the start, along with various other acquaintances. There's a lot of guests but all of these people are friends, people who they know well and like having around. Plenty of children who run around, playing with his little one. Vulkan even loses track of his kid for a short while, but when he does find them, he hoists them up on his shoulders with a booming laugh. His child laughs back, arms raised in the air, and the guests cheer.

The celebration of Lion's child is a very formal event. There's no children running around playing, no birthday cakes or songs. It looks less like a birthday and more like a military awards ceremony. It's not about celebration but acknowledgement. Lion's child may still be just that, a child, but they are steadily growing up, and this is an important milestone. And if Lion's child is a boy, then there's a big chance that this is the day they truly begin their astartes training. After this, they become a space marine aspirant. In a way, this is their last day of childhood.

While Fulgrim's celebration is lavish, Leman's is LOUD. Jovial and full of life. The whole legion is celebrating the first decade of life in his lil pup's life. Leman carries his kid on his shoulder the entire day except for when it's time for the grand feast. That's when he places his kid on his throne, in front of all the Space Wolves who holler and cheer. And Leman cheers louder than everyone, a wide smile on his face and a look of sincere pride in his eyes. For the rest of the day, his kid is treated like a king, with the Space Wolves acting as their court, humoring their every whim.

Most people celebrate their child's birthday with parties and banquets. Jaghatai is not most people. Instead, he takes his kid on a trip. Just the two of them, traveling on his jetbike across the great planes of Chogoris. He shows them the hidden paths, the secret sighs, the best views, only stopping every so briefly to take in the scenery. For lunch, they eat a prepared meal on top of a rock formation and his kid kicks their legs as they listen to their father telling them an old story. For dinner, Jaghatai hunts, and this year, his child hunts with him. They cook their meal over open fire and at this point, the sun's set. Jaghatai points out the stars to his child, a tale for each of them and it's only when the sun has risen that they venture back home.

Roboute prepares for the birthday like he has all the previous ones but this time, as he goes through the celebration plans one last time, he's struck by a sudden sense of melancholy. Because was it not just yesterday that he held them for the first time? Has it been ten years already? And during the celebration, a fairly big banquet with lots of guests, he can't help the sad smile that escapes him when he looks at his child, surrounded by the friends they made all on their own. He knows that one day, he's got to let them go, set them free into the world. All he can do is treasure the time they have and promise to be there for them, no matter what.