#damn guess I’m a dad now

[missallanious]

HI YES GO READ ZOMBIE BY LAZYSERENDIPITY ON AO3

[trashcandroid]

Apparently my mom shares trans memes on her facebook, which is… cool I guess? But she also still posts old pictures of me all the time

[sharlsworld]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ the sainz effect — 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏 ❁

( 𝗈𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂 𝗑 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗓 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ）

（ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ）𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗓 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋， 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍？𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝗒 𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖾

✫ i kinda really hate this i got lazy at the end sorry

🝮

yn

liked by pierregasly and 1,834,175 others

yn i’ll be back japan 😋🫰🏽 kinda boring race, happy birthday oscariño, getting fined for having a tummy ache is crazy, me & lily were munching alllll weekend, 8/10

lilymhe My favorite date 🥰🥰

⤷ alex_albon sigh

lando you’re so cute

lando 😍😍😘😘🥰 i’d eat sushi for you btw

⤷ yn do it then

⤷ lando okay let me mentally prepare myself. let’s go to dinner tomorrow tonight

⤷ yn i do not like the way you said that

⤷ lando may we please go to dinner where i’ll eat sushi for you at 8pm tomorrow night sweet beautiful kind princess?

⤷ yn 👍

⤷ lando chat is that rizz

⤷ alex_albon never beating the norizz allegations

⤷ lando oh who is you

carlossainz55 Saying “tummy ache” at your big age is crazy

⤷ yn fuck i’m glad you got fined you bitch.

⤷ carlossainz55 I was just teasing bug don’t be upset with me please

⤷ yn shut up i don’t like you right now

oscarpiastri Thank you! 🥰❤️

⤷ nicolepiastri I didn’t even get a thank you that sweet Oscar

⤷ oscarpiastri Mommmmmmmm

francolapinto i miss you mami

⤷ yn i miss you too franco

charles_leclerc I think you should fly back to Monaco with me I need some consoling after that race you know? 😢😢

⤷ yn awhh poor baby come pick me up

⤷ charles_leclerc omw mon cœur

⤷ carlossainz55 No???

⤷ yn fuck out my face you cunt

⤷ yn take my stuff back with you too

⤷ carlossainz55 Guess I’m the butler now

⤷ yn obviously. don’t scratch my suitcase either or i’ll punch you in the throat

⤷ carlossainz55 Okay gyash 💔

maxverstappen1 Should’ve been in my garage

⤷ yn i was in your garage in china though

⤷ maxverstappen1 I just miss you schat

⤷ yn i miss you too maxie

⤷ redbullracing he’s giggling rn

lewishamilton Hey I had a bad race too

⤷ yn yeah but you took my brothers seat so…☹️

⤷ lewishamilton I’ll give it back I’ll drive the Williams

⤷ scuderiaferrari No??

⤷ lewishamilton Such a cockblock 😒

🝮

lando

liked by oscarpiastri and 1,455,163 others

lando just ate sushi no biggie

yn good boyyyyy

⤷ lando my pants were JUST on

⤷ carlossainz55 No i’m sorry bug you have to find someone else lando has too big of a playboy reputation. Sorry lando.

⤷ lando oh but when she does it it’s okay?

⤷ yn what are you trying to say?? cause i’ve never done anything with any of the drivers. i think i’ve kissed charles twice

⤷ charles_leclerc thrice…and it was amazing

⤷ lando nothing you’re perfect babylove you can do wrong cause you’re so perfect and beautiful and amazing and smart and kind and funny

⤷ yn yeah that’s what i thought

maxverstappen1 Fuck you’re beautiful

⤷ yn aw thanks maxie 🥰

⤷ maxverstappen1 of course baby

⤷ alex_albon looks like max is going up in the lineup

⤷ danielricciardo wait tell me who’s winning wtf

⤷ alex_albon 1. charles 2. lando 3. max 4. lewis 5. franco

⤷ charles_leclerc fuck yeah

⤷ lando how am i not number 1 i just ate fucking sushi for her

⤷ francolapinto fuck me than damn

olliebearman bro ate an ice cream sundae while lando was conquering his biggest fear

⤷ lando hey don’t make her sound bad i loved it so much i didn’t even gag. breathing exercises work guys

charles_leclerc 😾 she likes me more

⤷ lando and what makes you think that?

⤷ charles_leclerc we’ve literally kissed thrice. THAT MEANS SOMETHING. and, she hangouts with my family so

⤷ lando oh yeah? she hangouts with my family too and me and her dad go golfing together SO HA

⤷ charles_leclerc oh yeah? really? me, her, her mom, and her sisters went out to brunch in spain last year SO HAHA I WIN

⤷ lando FAWK

⤷ yn guys…no…stop...seriously

⤷ lando whatever you say babylove

⤷ charles_leclerc whatever you say mon cœur

🝮

yn

liked by badgalriri and 1,785,302 others

yn 🍉🍓🍒

charles_leclerc so radiant 😍 let’s kiss 🌹

⤷ yn no ❤️

⤷ charles_leclerc aw man 💔

lilymhe My beautiful babe 😩😍😍

iamrebeccad The most gorgeous girl 😍😍😍❤️

francisca.cgomes oh girl i’ll be stealing that dress 🥰 you look so sexy 🫦🫦

⤷ yn omg i’m blushing

oscarpiastri 😍

⤷ carlossainz55 Oscar?

⤷ charles_leclerc wtf oscar you’re my son

⤷ lando my own teammate? 💔💔💔

⤷ maxverstappen1 Oscar I’ll push lando off the track in bahrain if you cut all contact with y/n…promise

⤷ francolapinto b-but you said you’d learn spanish for me… was that a lie??? a disguise?

⤷ pierregasly yoooooo get in there oscar

⤷ lewishamilton 😐

oscarpiastri Very pretty

⤷ yn thank you oscariño 🥰🥰

⤷ georgerussell63 Oh! Just in we have a new man in competition for y/n’s heart, things just got crazy. Who will get the final rose? Stay tuned

⤷ charles_leclerc fuck my life

⤷ lando naurrr don’t do this to me

⤷ lewishamilton i’m literally richer than him

⤷ francolapinto AGHGDHEJSJDNENS

⤷ maxverstappen1 Guys, she’s obviously gonna choose me. Just back out now

⤷ charles_leclerc fuh nah i have the best chance out of everyone else we’re literally neighbors

⤷ lando ok and i go on her family vacations??

⤷ francolapinto yk what, i quit

⤷ lewishamilton me too 💔🥀

⤷ georgerussell63 JUST IN FRANCO COLAPINTO AND LEWIS HAMILTON ARE DROPPING OUT OF THE COMPETITION FOR Y/N’S HEART

⤷ kimi.antonelli touch grass

⤷ georgerussell63 You cannot be talking rn

⤷ kimi.antonelli you right you right

🝮

yn

liked by nicolepiastri and 1,890,502 others

yn p1 for oscariño, p3 for lan, dnf for carlitos (you’ve been a bad boy yuki), 7/10

carlossainz55 At least you still have my back when you’re mad at me

⤷ yn yeah now can you bring me a shirley temple

⤷ carlossainz55 Making it now 😒

oscarpiastri Maybe you were my good luck charm, you should hangout in my garage more

⤷ lando 😾😾

charles_leclerc You looked so beautiful in the paddock mon cœur ❤️

⤷ yn awh thanks charlie 🥰

lando why did oscar get cute pictures and i got the one where i wasn’t paying attention

⤷ yn well why wasn’t your attention on me???

⤷ lando please don’t guilt trip me right now i’ll cry

⤷ yn whatever get me sushi

⤷ lando going right now

⤷ georgerussell63 Thoughtless obedience, I love to see it

⤷ lando frick off

nicolepiastri I can’t believe you got Oscar to pose for a picture so easily, and with such a big smile too! 😂

⤷ oscarpiastri Mom, please.

⤷ maxverstappen1 Okay I didn’t push lando off the track but you still won!!

⤷ yn ???

⤷ maxverstappen1 I quit, I’m going out tonight

⤷ yn stay safe maxie 😊

⤷ maxverstappen1 Always schat

⤷ alex_albon wait i’m gonna cry that was so 🥲

⤷ georgerussell63 With a bittersweet goodbye, Max Verstappen drops out of the competition leaving Lando, Charles, and Oscar. We’ll be back next week folks.

🝮

oscarpiastri

liked by iamrebeccad and 1,615,243 others

oscarpiastri She said she knew a spot

yn do you like my fab oscar???

⤷ oscarpiastri What’s that?

⤷ lando i like it babylove

⤷ oscarpiastri What’s a fab?

⤷ charles_leclerc I love it mon cœur

⤷ oscarpiastri WHAT IS A FAB??????

⤷ yn fuck ass bob 😾

⤷ oscarpiastri Oh yes I love your fab honey!

⤷ charles_leclerc HONEY??? WERE LOSING HER LANDO

⤷ lando can’t we just be a throuple + one? ☹️

reyesvdec So cute! ❤️

♥︎ by author

georgerussell63 In the city of love? 👀

yn i love traveling with you oscar

⤷ oscarpiastri I love traveling with you too honey

lando friends, family, fans, it is with great sorrow that i admit that i, lando norris, drop out of this competition. i will be going out tonight

⤷ yn stay safe lan 🥰

⤷ lando always babylove. i’ll always cherish our time we spent together

⤷ yn we’ll always have miami

⤷ lando always

⤷ yn so i’ll see you in a few days at dinner with my family right?

⤷ lando of course

⤷ georgerussell63 And then there were two, the competition dwindles down to Charles and Oscar after Lando surprisingly drops out of the competition with a heartfelt goodbye just a few days after Max dropped out. They’ll always have Miami, see you soon folks.

🝮

yn

liked by francisca.cgomes and 1,185,907 others

yn kinda nervous

carlossainz55 Dafuq 🤨

oscarpiastri ❤️

⤷ carlossainz55 DAFUQ

⤷ charles_leclerc DAFUQ

⤷ charles_leclerc no mi mon cœur

⤷ lando dis gur

nicolepiastri 🥰🥰❤️

alex_albon i smell someone else dropping out of the competition 👁️👁️

olliebearman first date kinda nervyy

⤷ carlossainz55 Ollie don’t make me call Charles.

⤷ olliebearman Party pooper.

charles_leclerc Ladies, with gentle hands…I come to this comment section today to announce that I will be dropping out of the competition, it’s been a great few years and we’ve shared many great moments together but it’s time, I quit. Catch me at the club tonight.

⤷ yn stay safe charlie ☺️

⤷ charles_leclerc always mon cœur

⤷ yn i’ll always remember us sneaking off in the middle of the night and just talking

⤷ charles_leclerc i would listen to you for hours mon cœur

⤷ carlossainz55 Oh so you’re a slut.

⤷ georgerussell63 And with that, we’re left with the last one standing, the one who joined last, the one who no one thought would win, the one that stole the heart of y/n. We have the winner of the competition, the man, the myth, the one who gets the final rose, Oscar Piastri. What a ride that was, thanks for following along folks.

🝮

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc and 2,704,186 others

oscarpiastri my honey 💛

yn my babyyyy 🩷🩷🩷🩷

danielricciardo Aussie’s on top

⤷ yn oh he’s on top alright

⤷ carlossainz55 DAFUQ

⤷ yn jkjk (not jk)

⤷ carlossainz55 STOP

⤷ charles_leclerc Oh I know Oscar is never bored

iamrebeccad the sainz effect is real

yn you’re so sweet i wish australians were real

⤷ oscarpiastri ???

pierregasly What a love story, i’m getting emotional I just need a minute 🥹

kimi.antonelli HAHAHA OLLIE OWES ME 5 THOUSAND DOLLARS AHAHAHAHAHAH

⤷ olliebearman darn it 😒

⤷ yn wtf??

⤷ olliebearman i had my bet on charles

⤷ pierregasly Me too I thought those bitches we’re getting married. So happy for Osc though this is so sweet 🥹

⤷ olliebearman let’s get you back to bed grandpa

georgerussell63 The last man standing, thanks for following along this crazy love story folks. ❤️

[cameronsbabydoll]

exhusband!rafe x reader attending their sons t ball game together and the other moms try coming onto him?? maybe reader gets kinda jealous and it confuses her.

ex!husband!rafe and reader going to their sons sports game

wc: 395 — a/n: we love a little jealousy war

you weren’t even trying at first.

okay — maybe the sundress was a little intentional. it was hot out. and yeah, maybe you’d picked the one that hugged your waist just right, dipped just low enough at the neckline to be sweet-but-distracting. totally innocent.

but then you saw him.

rafe in all his cocky, casually devastating glory — standing there like the king of the damn bleachers while those moms practically threw themselves at him.

and the worst part? he let them.

laughing a little too loud at their jokes. smirking in that lazy, arrogant way he knows drives you insane. letting their acrylic-nailed hands touch his arm like they had a damn chance.

so... two can play that game.

you wait until rafe is watching — of course he’s watching, he always watches you — before you drift toward a small group of the other dads.

they're friendly. harmless. a few of them definitely take notice when you walk up, all soft smiles and glowing in the afternoon sun.

"hey, didn’t realize you were single now," one says, clearly fishing. "bet the line’s out the door, huh?"

you laugh, light and easy, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear — fully aware of rafe’s hard stare burning into the back of your neck like a damn laser.

"oh, i don’t know about that," you hum, voice syrupy sweet, "but i guess I’m figuring it out."

and when one of them leans in — harmlessly — to compliment your dress?

boom.

suddenly, he’s there.

rafe appears at your side like a storm cloud, towering, tense, fake smile plastered on.

"hey, man," he greets with that sharp edge to his voice, clapping the dad’s shoulder just a little too hard. "appreciate you keepin' my girl company, but we’re good over here."

the dad laughs nervously, backing off.

and you just blink up at rafe, playing innocent.

"problem, rafe?" you blink.

he looks down at you — jaw tight, nostrils flaring slightly.

"yeah," he says flatly, eyes dragging down your figure like it pains him. "problem is you walk around lookin' like that and expect me to not put a stop to it."

your heart skips.

but you just smile sweetly, dripping with fake concern.

"aw. jealous or somethin', rafe?"

his jaw clenches.

"dead fucking jealous, sweetheart," he mutters darkly — low enough that only you hear — before stalking off like he didn’t just declare silent war.

[heavenlybodies333]

Love Bites - S.R

Spencer Reid x Hotch’s daughter!reader

Spencer Reid was many things—profiler, genius, human encyclopedia—but subtle was not one of them. Especially not when it came to hiding the fresh constellation of hickeys scattered down his neck like some kind of prize.

He walked into the bullpen with a file in one hand and his satchel slung awkwardly over the other, already rambling to Morgan about geographical profiling. Which made it all the more entertaining when Derek stopped in his tracks mid-conversation, eyebrows shooting up.

“Hold up.” Morgan squinted, leaning closer, his expression a slow grin of dawning realization.

Spencer froze with his tablet in hand, blinking. "Yeah?"

“Is that—Reid. Are those hickeys?”

"I—uh," Spencer stammered, adjusting his collar like he could somehow will the bruises away. "I didn't—it's not—"

"Oh my god," Penelope gasped. “Did our baby genius finally get laid?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hard, to keep from laughing. Raising your eyebrows in your best imitation of wide-eyed innocence. Morgan's already circling like a shark. "Damn, kid. Didn’t know you had it in you."

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,�� Reid stammers, tugging his collar up. That only makes it worse. One purplish mark is now clearly visible beneath the edge of his shirt.

Rossi walks by, takes one look, raises an eyebrow, and says nothin—Emily snorts audibly from behind her monitor. Reid sputters. “What—look—I—this is entirely inappropriate workplace behavior!”

“Oh, so you did get laid,” Prentiss grins. You rest your chin on your palm and bite the inside of your cheek to keep your smile from giving everything away.

“I’m not discussing my personal life with you,” Reid says quickly, shifting in his chair and tugging his collar up with a flushed, nervous hand.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t warned him, last night—his hands in your hair, your mouth on his neck, your breath hot and teasing: You’re going to have to explain these, you know. And he’d groaned, hands tightening on your hips, whispering, Worth it.

Guess he wasn’t so sure now.

Morgan wasn’t done. He leaned over Spencer’s desk with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, come on,” He laughs. “Don’t leave us hangin’. Who’s the lucky lady? We didn’t even know you had a lady!”

You slid your gaze toward Morgan, who was watching Reid intently—too intently. His eyes drifted from Spencer’s flushed face to you… and then back to Spencer. And then to you again.

A pause. Then Morgan’s smile stretched wider, far too knowing. “Oh. Oh. No way,” he said under his breath. “No way.”

You raised your brows, feigning innocence. “Something wrong, Agent Morgan?”

“Oh, hell no.” He laughed, backing away with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Hotch is gonna kill you, man.”

Hotch chose that exact moment to walk in, flipping through a file. “Morning,” he muttered. “Briefing in ten.” Everyone straightened. You took another sip of your coffee and shot Reid a knowing smile.

You got up and headed toward the briefing room, but not before leaning in, just enough, as you passed his chair.

Voice soft. Lips close. “Maybe next time,” you whispered,"you’ll wear a higher collar, genius."

“Reid,” comes the sudden, sharp voice from the stairs.

All heads snap toward Hotch, who descends into the bullpen like the Grim Reaper in a suit.

Reid jumps to his feet. “Yes?”

“I need that Georgia file you reviewed yesterday.”

“Uh—yes, yes, right here.” Spencer bolts to grab it from his desk, pushing his chair out with a screech.

Hotch pauses halfway down the stairs. Eyes looking over, your father’s eyes land on you. “You alright?”

You smile. Bright. Innocent. “Peachy, Dad.” He frowns slightly, then keeps walking.

Yeah, there was no way your dad wasn’t finding out.

a/n: spencieeee

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[shybluebirdninja]

A Long Road

Summary: Logan, old and insecure, finds comfort in the warmth of his younger girlfriend despite whispers of doubt from others.

(Oldman!Logan Howlett x Younger!Gf-Reader)

Logan’s POV

The coffee shop wasn’t too crowded, but it wasn’t empty, either. Enough people for a few glances to find their way over to us—for the murmurs, the curious looks.

I sat across from her, trying to look comfortable while stirring a cup of black coffee that’d gone cold ages ago. She had some fancy latte with cinnamon sprinkled on top—whatever they do to drinks now—and damn if it didn’t suit her. That sweet, new taste on her lips seemed right. Meanwhile, there I was, sticking to my usual, too set in my ways to try anything else.

But that wasn’t what was getting to me. It was the people. Or maybe it was just me. Seeing the way they looked at her, then looked at me, wondering what the hell she was doing here with a guy like me.

Some guy at a corner table gave me a quick up-and-down glance, as if he thought I wouldn’t notice. The words nearly spilled out, some snap about minding his own business. But she was scanning the pastry menu, her eyes bright, so I bit it back. Didn’t want to wreck her day.

“Babe, you wanna try one of these?” she asked, her finger tracing the list of pastries. There was a glint in her eye, all excitement over something simple—an apple twist or whatever fancy name it had.

I forced a smile, grumbling under my breath. “Eh, coffee’s enough for me, sweetheart.”

She just laughed, nudging her coffee cup forward, insisting. “Come on. Live a little. It’s apple cinnamon. You might like it.”

I rolled my eyes but took a reluctant sip, letting the cinnamon and sugar coat my mouth. It was...fine, but it wasn’t me. I grunted in approval, handing the cup back, catching her watching me like she found it all adorable or something. I tried to act casual, but it only made me feel more... out of place.

Across the room, two people whispered, stealing glances our way. Couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could guess. ‘Serious? Those two? Must be her dad. No way they’re together.’ Their words hung in the air, even if they hadn’t said a damn thing.

“Hey, uh...maybe we should get outta here,” I mumbled, tugging my jacket off the back of my chair, feeling the worn leather under my fingers. This place was starting to feel too damn small.

She looked up, confused but gentle. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just... too many people.” I forced a shrug, standing up and trying to shake off the irritation clawing at me.

We headed out into the cool evening air, her arm brushing against mine as we walked. For a second, it felt good—free, just us. But as soon as we stepped inside the apartment, something in me cracked wide open. I shut the door, staring at the floor. Couldn’t bring myself to look at her, couldn’t explain the feeling clawing its way up my chest.

“What’s wrong, babe?” she asked, her voice soft as she set her keys down, coming closer.

My throat tightened. I couldn’t look her in the eye. “You know, I’m almost two hundred, sweetheart. And I look every year of it.” My voice came out rougher than I wanted, almost a whisper. “People look at us, and they think...”

She reached up, placing her hands on either side of my face, thumbs brushing over the lines and scars. The worn edges, the parts of me that looked like they’d been through hell and back. “Let them think what they want. It’s just noise, Logan.”

I let out a laugh, bitter and hollow. “Noise, huh? Well, that noise gets pretty damn loud sometimes.” My voice broke, my hand coming up to grip her wrist, holding onto her like she was the only solid thing in my world. “I mean, hell...if this is how they act when we’re just dating, what’re they gonna say if I...if I ever asked you to marry me?”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned closer, so damn calm, brushing her lips over my forehead. “Logan, I don’t care what they say. I’m here with you. I chose you.”

Those words broke something in me, something buried so damn deep it hadn’t seen daylight in decades. Before I knew it, my throat tightened, my eyes burning with something I hadn���t felt in years. I closed my eyes, letting her hold me, feeling the steady beat of her heart as I let the tears fall.

After a moment, I pulled back, taking her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing along her cheekbones, rough and calloused.

“I’m gonna mess this up, you know,” I muttered, trying to manage a half-smile, the sarcasm slipping out of habit. “Gonna scare you off with all this old-man crap.”

She smirked, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Then you better hold on to me tight, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”

I kissed her, slow, letting myself feel every second, every taste of that damn cinnamon latte still lingering on her lips. Holding her like she was the one damn thing keeping me together.

[tedmustache]

Can you write a fic where the fem!reader is a med student and accidentally calls Robby "Dad." He starts calling her "kid" and it becomes a small thing for them. After a hard case, the reader is close to a panic attack and Robby is there to comfort them, just like a dad?

Hey, Kid

Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Summary: After a sleep-deprived mistake leads to the reader accidentally calling Dr. Robby “Dad,” the nickname “kid” becomes a quiet, constant thread between them.

Warnings: Medical setting (hospital trauma cases), Grief over patient death (minor character), Panic attack symptoms (breathlessness, shaking, emotional distress), Comfort after emotional distress, Mentorship and familial themes (reader/mentor dynamic, not romantic)

Main Masterlist

[...]

You’d been on your feet for thirteen hours, running on one granola bar, an energy drink you regretted two hours ago, and sheer panic. The trauma pager had been going off like it was trying to set a world record, and somehow every single attending had disappeared when it was time to present the new patient.

Except Robby.

Of course, it was Robby.

He stood across from you now, arms crossed, watching you like a hawk while you sputtered through a case summary that sounded a lot smoother in your head than it did aloud.

“…penetrating abdominal trauma, vitals unstable, FAST was positive—uh, positive… and we’re, I mean I was thinking we should prep for the OR—”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Unless you think there’s something else we should—”

“Finish your sentence before you second-guess yourself” he interrupted, not unkindly. “You're presenting. Own it.”

You nodded quickly, cheeks hot. “Right. Prep for the OR.”

A beat passed. Then he gave a small nod, turning to the trauma team. “She’s right. Let’s move.”

You exhaled, finally breathing, and trailed behind as they rolled the patient toward surgery. As the doors swung shut, you felt the adrenaline ebb from your system, replaced with the thudding crash of fatigue.

“Good call, kid” Robby said as he turned away from the board.

And before you could think. Before your caffeine-deprived brain could stop you, it happened.

“Thanks, Dad.”

The hallway went silent. For exactly three seconds.

You froze.

Robby blinked. You blinked. A resident walked by, did a double take, and wisely kept walking.

“I—I meant Dr. Robby! Sir! I mean—I didn’t—”

Robby stared at you for a beat longer

“Well,” he said slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I’ve been called worse.”

You slapped a hand over your face. “I’m so sorry, that was—”

“Relax. You’re not the first sleep-deprived med student to do it. You just said it loud enough for the whole ER to hear.”

“Please let me die in peace” you muttered.

He snorted. “Not on my shift, kid.”

The nickname stuck. After that, “kid” became a thing.

He called you “kid” when he passed you in the hall. When you brought him a chart. When you correctly identified a spinal fracture. When you tripped over an unplugged IV line and nearly faceplanted into a gurney.

“You okay, kid?”

“Nice catch, kid.”

“Don’t touch that, kid. Do you want to get yelled at by Neuro?”

And despite your initial horror, it grew on you. It was nice, in a weird way. Especially because Robby didn’t just call anyone that. At least, not with that tone. Half exasperated, half protective, like he actually gave a damn.

And he did, you were starting to realize.

Even when he made you redo your discharge summaries three times. Even when he roasted your slightly incorrect anatomy sketch in front of Jack (you had been tired, okay?). Even when he acted like he didn’t care, but showed up every time things got hard.

Like today.

You’d just lost a patient. A teenager. Hit by a drunk driver while biking home from soccer practice. There’d been a window. A small and hopeful window, and you’d clung to it with both hands.

And then you watched it slam shut in front of you.

You stood in the supply room now, the door shut, hands braced on the counter. Your scrubs were stained, your gloves long gone, and your lungs felt like they’d forgotten how to expand.

Your heart was racing. Too fast. You knew the signs too well.

The edges of your vision pulsed. Your hands were starting to tremble.

No. Not here. Not now.

You bit your lip and counted.

In. One, two, three

Out. One, two, three

The door creaked open.

You didn’t have to turn around. You knew the voice.

“Hey, kid.”

You closed your eyes.

“Not a good time” you croaked.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s why I’m here.”

You didn’t answer. Your hands tightened on the edge of the counter until your knuckles went white.

“I shouldn’t have—I should’ve caught it,” you said suddenly. “His pressure dipped and I hesitated, and maybe if I’d said something sooner, or—or run the second unit faster—”

“Stop.” His voice was firm, but not harsh. “That kid died because a drunk driver made a choice. Not because of you.”

You shook your head, breath hitching. “I didn’t do enough.”

“You did everything.”

Silence. Then the soft shuffle of his footsteps. You felt a hand on your shoulder, solid and steady.

“You’re allowed to feel it” Robby said. “That’s part of the job. But don’t carry what’s not yours.”

You finally looked up. He wasn’t glaring. He wasn’t giving you a speech about boundaries or toughness or professionalism.

He just looked… there. Real. Human.

Like a dad.

“I hate this part” you whispered.

“Me too.”

Your eyes welled up, and that was it. You let go.

You didn’t sob. There wasn’t time for that. But a tear or two slipped down your cheek, and when your legs wobbled, Robby guided you gently to sit on the counter stool like he’d done this a hundred times before.

Which, you realized, he probably had.

He stayed for a minute. Maybe two. Just long enough for your breathing to even out. For the shaking to stop.

Then he patted your back. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you a coffee.”

You wiped your face and nodded.

He opened the door, and before you stepped out, he glanced at you sideways.

“You know,” he said, “Dana keeps asking why I don’t have kids.”

You blinked at him. “And what do you say?”

He shrugged. “I say I already have one.”

You laughed, soft and a little broken. But it felt better than crying.

“Lucky me" you said.

Robby gave a lopsided smile. “Damn right.”

[kxsagi]

CHONK BABY NAGI

“𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐢”

a/n: AWWW MY SHAYLAAAAAA

HE IS THE CUTEST BLUE LOCK BABY ☹️

THOSE CHUBBY CHEEKS AAAAAAA

guess i gotta write a post for this now bc he's too cute not to

(i don't know art credits)

you find nagi in his natural habitat: lying on the couch, hood up, eyes half-lidded like a panda who gave up on life, holding your 18-month-old son like a sack of microwaved potatoes. 

the baby? absolutely zoned. ipad at full brightness. one sock missing. chubby foot resting on nagi’s face like he pays rent. 

“yo,” you say. “you alive?” 

“barely,” nagi grunts, voice muffled by a baby sock. “he’s been watching that same cat video for twenty-eight minutes.” 

you peer over his shoulder. it’s not a cat video. it’s a low-budget 3D cartoon of a purple blob dancing to a song that goes, “numbers go one, two, three, shake your butt like a honeybee.” 

your son – let’s call him lil nagi – gives a violent little head nod like he’s at a rave, eyes locked on the screen. the second you make eye contact with him, he blinks and proceeds to hand you a random sticker he peeled off the back of the ipad. “buh,” he says wisely. 

“... thanks?” 

“he’s been giving me trash all day,” nagi mutters. “gave me a goldfish cracker and then ate it when i said thank you.” 

“king behavior, honestly.” 

the baby squawks something like, “ba-ta-buh-guh!” and throws the ipad straight up. 

nagi catches it midair with reflexes he’s never once used in actual parenting until now. 

“damn,” you whisper. “that was hot.” 

“this is my life now,” nagi sighs, adjusting the baby who is now trying to use his face as a climbing wall. “i’m not even a person. i’m a charging dock with anxiety.” 

the ipad turns back on. how? no one knows. but suddenly the blob is twerking again and lil nagi is back in position: legs sprawled, sippy cup in one hand, remote in the other like a tiny king on his throne. he taps at buttons with the confidence of someone who does not know what he's doing but will do it anyway. 

“he changed the language settings again,” nagi mutters as the screen suddenly starts yelling spanish numbers at full blast. 

“... is that why alexa keeps calling me ‘madre’?” 

“probably.” 

your son starts chewing on the edge of the ipad. nagi doesn’t even stop him. “it’s fine. builds immunity.” 

“it builds tetanus.” 

you sit beside them, watching as lil nagi starts dramatically fake-laughing at absolutely nothing and then immediately wipes his nose on nagi’s hoodie sleeve. 

nagi doesn’t flinch. 

he’s transcended. 

he’s reached peak dad enlightenment. 

nothing can hurt him now. 

the baby stands up on nagi’s lap, wobbly as a jello tower, and shouts, “BAH!” before sitting back down and tooting dramatically. 

“announcement made,” nagi nods solemnly. “we all heard.” 

you wipe tears from your eyes from laughing. “you’re so good at this.” 

“no i’m not. he’s in control. i’m just the guy holding the ipad.” 

but then your son leans into him, squishing his soft baby face against nagi’s cheek and babbling something that sounds like “dah-duh,” drooling slightly in the process. 

and nagi softens. 

“… okay,” he mumbles. “he can keep the sock on my face.” 

you press a kiss to both of them and sigh. it’s chaos. it’s loud. it’s full of mysterious fluids. 

but it’s your favorite version of peace. 

especially when the baby burps and tries to fist bump nagi like a bro. 

nagi fist bumps back. naturally. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[wonderjanga]

Was thinking of the terrible dad captain marvel post when my brain went

What if they (incorrectly) believe that the kid’s other parents are gods? (Or possibly Black Adam)

Flash: “Look, I’m just saying that the little purple one is probably Hermes and his kid.”

Marvel: *walks in the room* “Hey guys! What are you talking about?”

GL: “About how you have like five baby daddies.”

*silence*

Marvel: *looks scandalized* “…What?”

Flash: “About how you have five baby daddies.”

Marvel: *speechless for a solid minute* “Where did you hear that from???”

GL: “No one, but you kinda implied it, man-”

Marvel: “When did I do that?!?”

Flash: “Look, just- You’re not slick. Anyways, right now we’re just trying to figure out who exactly are the five. I’m guessing Hermes is a little purple one’s dad.”

Mercury: *doesn’t know whether to laugh or be offended*

GL: “And I’m guessing that the little gray ones dad is Zeus because he always messes around with lightning and technology.”

Meanwhile in Olympus…

Hera: *suspicious* “Something just happened…”

Back at the Watchtower…

Zeus: *retching sounds*

GL: “I have no idea about the other three though. Like who’s the green one?”

Mercury: Billy, say Huītzilōpōchtli. I want a shoutout for my boy.

Marvel: *appalled* “I AM NOT SAYING THAT.” *is talking to Mercury*

Flash: *thinks he’s talking to them* “Okay, okay, damn. No need to get so worked up.”

Marvel: “I wasn’t- never mind. What made you think? I have five different baby daddies??”

GL: “Dude all your kids look different, all you really need is a pair of eyes to see that.”

Marvel: *confused as to why he said “your kids”* “Wha?”

Flash: “By the way, who are Junior and Mary’s too? Mary looks a lot like you, so did you do that weird thing where gods that are siblings get together and have kids?”

Marvel: *somehow even more appalled* “Oh my Gods, no??? That’s fucking disgusting!”

Flash and GL: *share a look because Marvel rarely curses*

GL: “Well, that’s good then but still, who are all their parents??”

Marvel: *scrambling to pull something out of his ass so he can end this conversation* “I- uh- they don’t have parents!”

Flash and GL: *confusion*

Marvel: “Yeah! They spawned a little bit after me from the Rock!”

GL: “How long was a “little bit after?” You look old enough to be their dad.”

Solomon: ‘The ability for champions to share their powers with others came into existence around 120 thousand years ago. Just say that, Billy.’

Marvel: “Well, i’m like 200,000 years old and they came to existence like 120,000 years ago.”

GL: “Jesus, I forgot how old you guys are.”

Flash: “Dang, so you’re not their dad.”

Marvel: “No! If anything, we’re siblings!”

Flash: “I guess I could see that making more sense.”

[losers-clvb]

meeting the family soldier boy x female!reader

summary: you take ben to meet your crazy family. you're a bundle of nerves, but ben assures you everything will be fine. he just has to keep his mouth shut -- a nearly impossible task for the supe.

content: swearing, mentions of sex, ben may be slight ooc (he's just not craycray right now), mentions of ben and reader's respective pasts, fluff, surprisingly respectful ben (but he's still makes his own comments.

word count: 4.6k

note: i went a little off-the-rails with this one. i envisioned it as yapper reader from it will come back and talk too much, but there is no outright connection with her. i'm in love with what i've created here, so expect more of this family.

m.list

“Ben.” You groaned out his name, again, when you felt his hands on your hips, again.

Seems like fifth time was the charm, because he backed off.

“You’re no fuckin’ fun.” He muttered with his usual I-need-to-get-what-I-want attitude, rolling his eyes. You swore he was worse than a teenage girl with his small temper tantrums.

“We’re already running late.” You flicked your eyes to the alarm clock on the bedside table. “Which, I’ll remind you, is your fault.”

“Didn’t seem like it was my fault when I woke up with your hand around my fuckin’ cock.”

Maybe part of this, a very small and insignificant part, was your fault.

“Yeah, well, I woke up to it poking me in the back.”

Tousling your hair to try to get it to go the right way -- whatever direction that was --, you felt his eyes rake up your body.

“Not my fault my girl is so damn sexy.” He took a step forward, prompting you to spin around and stick a hand out to stop him.

Ben pouted -- actually pouted -- at your rejection.

If it were any other day, a day that didn’t include you practically biting your nails to the bone in anticipation, you would have been happy to get back into bed, maybe move to the couch or, Ben’s favorite, the bathroom sink so you could watch yourself fall apart in the mirror.

Unfortunately for you both, home was hours away, but your family was just a quick drive across town.

Lucky you!

“I told you to watch that mouth, mister.” You waggled a finger at him, narrowing your eyes to show you meant business.

“ ‘Damn’ is hardly offensive, doll.”

“I’ll show you how offensive I can be if you keep it up.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” He reached for you again. The swat to the back of his hand was instantaneous.

“Behave.” Your voice was stern, but the swallow after betrayed it. “Please.”

It wasn’t as if you were embarrassed of Ben. No, you didn’t give a shit if the old lady at the grocery store thought he was too touchy, or if your boss thought he swore too much.

But this was your family.

The people who raised you, who had to deal with your awkward phase of only wearing green for an entire year, the ones who teased you when you had your first crush. Their opinions mattered, even if you knew some of your aunts were far too judgy.

In theory, the fact that Ben was a supe worked to your advantage. America’s Son as your boyfriend, what girl wouldn’t love to bring that home to mom and dad?

Then the drinking and drugs and stubborn fucking attitude reminded you of all the reasons why they wouldn’t like him. Not to mention the fact that he was older than your grandfather.

Oh God, your grandfather. The eighty year old was going to hate Ben. He had hated your first boyfriend, who was top of his class at the nearby university. Though, perhaps the old man had a point, seeing how you had found the dickhead in bed with his professor.

“You ready, doll?”

Ben’s gravel woke you from your thoughts. He knew you had been thinking too much. He always knew when you were thinking too much. You inspected yourself one last time before nodding.

“I guess.” You sighed, swiping up your purse. You allowed him to sling an arm over your shoulders, but sent him a warning glare when his fingers fiddled with the strap of your dress.

“No need to worry, sweetheart,” he held the car door open for you, kissing the side of your head, “parents love me.”

You climbed into the car and frowned up at him.

There was no way parents loved him. He was the kind of guy they warned against, the one you brought home to spite your mother when she mentioned settling down.

“Don’t look so fuckin’ skeptical.” Ben scoffed when you just looked at him with your I don’t believe you face. Ignoring the amused smile on your face, he sauntered to the driver’s side of the car, slipping in.

“You’re telling me that you, Mr. Fuckin’ Weed and Whiskey,” you imitated his voice on “fuckin’”, he rolled his eyes, “have gotten a girl’s parents to like you.” The last part of your sentence came out with a laugh of disbelief.

“I’ve got it in me.” Ben defended, making another point pop into your head.

“You’ve never had to do this before.” You scoffed, the realization that you had no idea what to expect from this making your anxiety grow.

“Doll, I wasn’t worried about meetin’ mom when I had ‘em bent over the counter.” Ben tried to dismiss while pulling onto the road.

“Yeah, that makes me feel so much better.” You muttered, chewing on your lower lip. He did a double take, eyes flitting from the road to your nervous expression.

Clicking his tongue to get your attention, he brought his hand up to cradle your chin. He wiggled his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to release your skin to allow space for the intrusion.

“You may be my first, but I promise, you’re gonna be my last.”

The words washed over you, coating you in a peace you hadn’t known until you met Ben. He liked to do this, remind you of his love without actually saying it. You’d heard the words a total of two times in your relationship. It never felt like they were missing, not when he held doors open and spoon-fed you soup when you were sick.

His thumb retracted once he was sure you were calmed. Tangling his fingers in yours, the drive was filled with a comfortable silence, something Ben had taught you to be okay with.

Part of the reason why you were so hesitant to introduce him to your family stemmed from your childhood.

Where Ben had been raised as a nuisance, you had been cherished since day one.

Birthdays were filled with off-key singing and cheek-kisses from relatives. Talent shows were another thing in themselves, three rows of chairs taken up by cheering. Siblings grouped together to fight when school bullies dared to mess with you. Your aunts worked around the clock to knit a blanket when you went away to college.

You didn’t want him to see what he had missed out on.

“Christ, doll, you didn’t tell me you were loaded.” Ben chuckled when the looming farmhouse came into view. You made a face, knowing damn well his father had been far wealthier than your family.

Still, you couldn’t deny the fact that your parents weren’t exactly living paycheck to paycheck.

The family farm had been in business since… well, you weren’t all too aware of the specific year, just that the creaky floorboards on the porch had been placed by your great grandfather.

Summers were spent playing in the cherry trees, plucking the sweet fruit from the branches whenever you pleased. No one lived on these acres of land full-time, opting to share the space. Cousins and friends-of-the-family drifted in and out of the farmhouse throughout the months, ensuring there was always fresh lemonade in the fridge.

All of your firsts had happened in the barn off to the side of the property; first steps, first kiss, first time having sex -- though you would take that last piece of information to your grave.

“Don’t touch the good china,” you warned teasingly, a warm smile blossoming on your face when your cousin, Lina, sprinted for the car.

She was younger than you by about ten years, you taking on more of an older sister role in her life. She was a good kid, you told about everyone you came into contact with.

Ben hadn’t even shifted the car into park before you were jumping out to wrap your arms around her. She squealed your name into your hair.

“I missed you!” She pulled away, bouncing on her toes while you looked over her.

“Is that my dress?” You asked. It was something you hadn’t worn in years, but you would have recognized the light blue material anywhere.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Yes.” She admitted sheepishly, looking to the ground.

“I knew it!”

“You left it in the upstairs closet! What else was I supposed to do?” She was on the defensive, a hand on her hip. You laughed and ruffled her hair, causing her to grumble out a complaint, but her own giggle cut through it.

“Who’s this gorgeous girl?”

Ben stepped up next to you, a basket of cookies in one hand while the other rested on the small of your back. Lina immediately blushed, and you didn’t blame her.

Anyone who was attracted to the male species would blush if Ben called them gorgeous.

“Lina-bug.” You answered, making her scrunch her nose up at the nickname.

“I’m not five.” She complained, sticking her tongue out at you despite the words.

“You’ll always be five to me.” You promised, curling into Ben out of pure instinct.

It was at that moment you noticed something dark, almost bruise-like peeking out at you from the collar of Lina’s -- your -- dress.

“What the hell is that?” You demanded, poking at the spot.

Lina paled, pulling away from your grasp. Her eyes flicked from you to Ben, blushing when she realized you both knew exactly what the hell it was.

She wasn’t a child, having turned seventeen just the month before. It was still far too young to be doing anything of this nature, anything that left a hickey on her collarbone for the entire family to see.

Ignoring the larger quantity of much darker marks littering your inner thighs, you opened your mouth to lecture her on why boys were stupid and not worth her time.

The call of your first and middle name made the breath choke in your throat.

“For your sake, I hope my ears just need a good cleanin’ and I didn’t just hear those words come from your mouth!”

Aunt Mavis was bounding her way across the yard, wearing her signature yellow sunhat. You cringed, a memory of the woman flushing soap into your mouth as a child for calling your brother a beach -- you hadn’t heard the word correctly -- flashing through your mind.

“Watch your mouth, doll.” Ben mumbled to you, teasing you with your earlier words. You grumbled out a warning to him.

Lina took the distraction as a chance to get the hell out of there.

“Look at you!” Mavis beamed, throwing her arms out like she hadn’t been ready to lock you in the potato cellar just a moment earlier. “My great-niece, the most beautiful girl in the world!”

Nevermind the fact that she called everyone the most beautiful. It was one of the things you loved about her. Sure, she may be old-fashioned in her childhood punishments, but she loved her family wholly.

You inched toward her, biting down on your tongue to keep from gasping at the subtle slide of Ben’s hand to your ass.

Mavis engulfed you in her rose-scented perfume, squeezing you tight enough to juice you like a lemon. Her eyes must have caught onto the tall frame of the man behind you, because, in an instant, she was standing toe-to-toe with him. You blinked.

C’mon, Mav, you thought, silently urging the woman to say something, anything.

On the spectrum of intensity, she was quite tame. If she didn’t like Ben, there was no hope.

“You’re trouble.” Mavis waggled a finger at him, a teasing smirk tilting onto her face.

It wasn’t a hardcore stamp of approval, but it wasn’t a dismissal, either. You took it as a win, letting out the breath you had sucked in the moment you laid eyes on your aunt.

“Only if you’re askin’ for it.” Ben responded, winking.

Oh my God.

You dropped your jaw, heart stuttering as you thought of all the ways Mavis would berate him.

Only, Mavis didn’t look offended.

She let out a hearty laugh, wrapping her arms around Ben’s torso.

“I like you.” She announced, pulling him in tight.

Ben drifted his eyes to you, smirking.

I told you so, they said.

Not my mom, yours responded.

He had won over one aunt, albeit a very influential aunt, but the real work would begin with the others.

With the intent to officially introduce him to her, you opened your mouth. A pang of sweet drifted to your nose, making your eyes flutter shut.

“Cherry rolls?” You breathed out, sighing slightly. It was an unconscious thing, something you had to thank her for Pavloving you into stopping at the first scent of the baked good.

“This one is practically a bloodhound when it comes to dessert.” Mavis tutted, jabbing her thumb at you.

“You made cherry rolls?” You were getting impatient with her teasing.

“Well, yes.” Mavis answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re your favorite.”

It had been years since you had one of Mavis’ cherry rolls. She’d come up with the recipe herself, quickly using it as a tool to get the kids’ energy out on long days. She would send you and your siblings out with baskets, tasking you all with plucking cherries from the trees. It was long work, especially when the three of you could only reach the bottom branches.

The end result?

Heaven.

You would gorge yourself on the sweet if it didn't mean being bloated for the rest of the week.

Once you moved to the city, your opportunities for eating it were, well, zero. You didn’t have the skill to make it, and every family event was missing either you or her. It broke your heart some days, not just because you missed the taste; you missed the memories it brought back.

The fact that Mavis had so obviously made them with you in mind -- though you were sure the other nieces and nephews had begged for them as well -- had tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Aurora sprung up like a weed, you’ll never believe it’s her.” Mavis babbled, grabbing your hand to guide you to the house. You, not wanting to leave behind the reason this get-together was happening, looped your pinkie around Ben’s, dragging him along.

“And Betsy is on this health-kick, but I swear on dear Rufus’ grave,” Rufus the dog, “that she’s swiping cookies from the jar.”

The worn-wood steps of the wrap-around porch creaked a complaint when you three ascended, as they had for as long as you could walk. Every year, Uncle Jerry promised he would find a way to fix them. And every year, he would be passed out on the porch swing, a beer in one hand, a hammer in the other, the steps remaining untouched.

Deep down you hoped they would always make a noise. It was the soundtrack to your dreams; creaking porches, leaves fluttering in the wind, the creek water’s constant flow.

“Oh. My. God.”

You knew the voice without even looking. Your cousin, Evie, who had nudged her way into the aunts’ circle after turning thirty.

Her words triggered the mob, pulling them from their juices and shit talking to swarm your man. They crowded around him like a flock of chickens -- clucked about just like them as well.

“Look at his hair-”

“Nice facial structure-”

“Thought he’d be taller-”

The poking at his arms and chest was when you stepped in, shooing them off. If you were less kind, or if Ben had made another smart-ass remark, you would have left him to the rolls.

He should feel honored, really, that you were choosing to save him instead of diving into the still-steaming plate of rolls on the counter.

“Back off, ladies. He’s mine.” The words were teasing, knowing that these women loved a good piece of eye candy around.

Ben made a show of throwing his arms over two of your aunts, hugging them in close.

“Aww, c’mon, doll,” you swore they all swooned at the pet name, “there’s enough of me to go around.”

“There certainly is.” A voice in the group murmured suggestively, making the others giggle.

You cut a glare over them, trying your best to be intimidating. Everyone in the room knew it didn’t work. Where your siblings were compared to wolves, growing up everyone called you a bunny. Not even a fully-grown rabbit. A bunny, you know, cute and fluffy and unable to scare even a fly away. Yeah, that was you.

Ben watched over your attempts, an amused smile and raised eyebrow making you frown. He chuckled and stepped over to you, pulling you into his arms.

“Aww…” The chorus cooed from behind him.

He bent his neck down to kiss you, lips moving against yours with a stifled passion.

“Aww!” This was practically a squeal. In your mind, you saw your Aunt Hilly pull out her phone, snapping pictures of the scene. She was a self-proclaimed photographer, though her equipment consisted of a beat down iPhone and the occasional flashlight.

“I know my girl doesn’t share,” Ben mumbled to you when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. You smiled up at him.

“That is disgusting.”

You spun on your heel to face your little brother, Peter. Not that he was little anymore. The boy -- he’s a year younger than you -- stood taller than you, the same height he had sprung to in middle school seemingly overnight. You scowled at the stupid bunch of hair on his upper lip.

“You’re the one with a caterpillar on your face.” You poked a finger in his face. A noise of surprise came out when he moved to bite at it. There had been a time when he really did bite your finger, leading to an early morning trip to the emergency room for stitches. You still had a little scar running across the knuckle.

“Ladies love this caterpillar, Buggy.”

You frowned at the nickname. Buggy. It made you feel like a little kid again, but you also couldn’t ignore the spark of warmth that came with the familiarity of it all.

“I promise you, they do not. And don’t call me that!”

“They do-,”

“Can you two stop bickering and set the dang table?” Your mother’s voice cut your brother off before he could dig himself deeper into your irritation. It was all in good fun, you would go from yelling in each other’s faces to laughter-filled bike rides in a matter of minutes while growing up.

“Momma!” You ran to her, nearly knocking the older woman over with your hug. You ignored the new wrinkles at her eyes and the peek-through of grey hairs. She wasn’t allowed to get older.

“No makeouts in the kitchen, honey.” It wasn’t the first time she had said it, and you doubted it would be the last -- whoever Lina was spending her time with would learn soon enough.

“We weren’t making out.” You defended, sounding all too much like that teenager that your mother had to drive to college.

A smile crinkled the edges of her eyes again and she smoothed down your hair.

“I love you.” She mumbled. Her eyes flicked behind you, where Ben was being examined by Peter. It was a wordless thing, simply eyes scanning your boyfriend like he was an alien that had been beamed down.

“This is Ben.” You explained, lacing your fingers into his. With all the chaos, you hadn’t noticed his silence.

While he had made his occasional comments, he was more watching it all go down. You bouncing around the place, so happy and free. Your family teasing you with warmth and love in their words.

It was the kind of place he had dreamed of being in as a child -- not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

“Mmm, right…,” Your mother hummed, looking him up and down. She knew Soldier Boy -- everyone did -- but she was more interested in knowing how Ben acted, how he treated you.

You could tell her a million times he’s perfect, so nice and she would never believe you. You were too kind -- maybe her fault for raising you to be as such -- and you would let love cloud your judgements.

When you called to say that her favorite supe from her childhood was your new boyfriend, she felt that ache come on. Vought tried their best to cover the scandal Soldier Boy would get into, but as she grew, your mother reflected on both his words and actions, finding them to be less respectful than she had once thought.

“Momma, stop starin’ him down.” You almost whined, stepping further in front of Ben to shield him from her gaze. It didn’t do much -- Ben towered over you.

To make you feel more important, he rested his hands on your shoulder, the one holding your hand never letting go.

“Benjamin-,” your mother started, but you cut her off.

“Ben.”

“You hurt her and you’ll figure out what we hide under those cherry trees.” Your mother hissed lowly, a contradiction to the sweet smile she gave the two of you after them.

You paled.

“I’m keepin’ our girl safe ‘til the end of time, ma’am.” Ben responded. You could hear him holding back a chuckle. You watched her give him a simple nod, like they had come to an agreement, and turn back to whatever task she had pulled herself from.

“She’s joking.” You laughed nervously up at him. I hope, you refrained from adding.

“She’s a spitfire like you, doll.” Ben gave you a chaste kiss. You melted into him.

The onlookers you called family were back to their own stories, chittering coming from all directions. You caught on to a few names and places, noting the tone in which all of them were said.

“Do you like them? Or do I need to redownload Tinder?” You added that last part as a way to mask your anxiety. Ben saw right through it, as he did with most things you did. There wasn’t anything you could get past him, though it worked vice versa.

Ben didn’t know about all the times you sensed his aggression before he even opened his mouth. He didn’t know about the way you would walk an extra block on the way home just to pick up his favorite biscuits because you knew he was having a bad day. He didn’t know because you liked knowing something he didn’t.

“You keep that damned thing gone.” He grumbled, pulling at your hips. You snorted out a laugh, remembering the look on his face when he had stumbled upon a dick pic -- a very unasked for dick pic -- from some guy. It was before you were officially dating, and you hadn’t actually opened the app in months, but that did nothing to stop Ben from reminding you exactly how much of you was his. Spoiler alert, it was all of you, and his actions left the two of you panting and spent.

“They love you. They must be good people.” Ben shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I love them, and I love you, I just want you all to get along.” You sputtered out, playing with the fabric of his shirt under your fingers.

You’d said I love you many times to him, yet it never stopped the bloom of warmth in his stomach.

God, you were turning him into a soft-ass man, pussywhipped beyond belief.

He’d hated it at first, trying to turn you away for who knows how many weeks in the beginning. You’d never stopped coming back, crawling into his lap, and saying the words again and again until you were whimpering them into his ear while he thrust into you. He’d learned to let you care for him, ignore the bubbling hatred for anything lovely in his life.

“I know.” He breathed, soothing you with the familiar gruff of his voice. You curled into him, letting him hold you until your brother yanked at your arm, complaining that he had to do everything and you always get away with not helping.

Dinner skimmed by without much of a problem, aside from Ben’s immediate reaction to your father’s barbecued meats.

“Holy shit.” He had moaned. You were grateful it was somewhat quiet, only catching the attention of the youngest of the cousins at the adult table. The thirteen year old looked at you with wide eyes, a bashful giggle bursting out. You had shushed her and, after some very skillful manipulation -- you had no idea where she had learned how to do it --, you were signed up to bring her dress shopping for her middle school’s fall dance.

Now, you were stuck on dish duty with your sister-in-law, something that was only bearable because you found common ground in complaining about your sister’s odd habits. You were listening to her complain about how your sibling left a full dishwasher without starting it when the boisterous laugh of Ben’s caught your ear.

“She brought home this… guy.” This was your father, who immediately got along with Ben upon meeting him. You tried not to think of things they had in common. You didn’t want to be dating your father.

“He wouldn’t look at us, he kept sticking his hand up her shirt at dinner, and, the worst part, he ate everything with soy sauce. Even Marcie’s,” Marcie was your mom, “mac and cheese.”

Oh God.

He was telling Ben about that horrid boyfriend you had when you were twenty. You, thinking he was the love of your life despite every conversation being about him, brought him home for a family dinner. It was smaller than this whole thing, but still held your immediate family, including your grandfather, who, now, was sitting out on the porch with Ben and your father.

“Sounds like a real asshole.”

You choked on your breath, sending you into a coughing fit. Of course he couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut. It was the end of the night, you were so close to freedom from your fairly conservative family, yet Ben had to silence the entire house, children and all, with that fucking word.

Everyone stilled, even if they weren’t on the porch, even if they had only caught the ass part.

All eyes pointed in your grandfather’s direction. The old man didn’t take well to swearing, not with the way his parents had raised him. Your father slipped up sometimes, but never so obvious as Ben had. You cringed in preparation for the lecture on why Ben was the worst person alive and why you needed to find a new boyfriend.

You tilted your head to get a better view out of the window just as a smile wrinkled the skin around your grandfather’s eyes. He let out a gravelly laugh, eyes twinkling like Ben was simply an old friend he had lost touch with.

“The biggest.” Your grandfather agreed, raising his glass of whiskey in Ben’s direction before taking a sip.

That was the last blow to your nervous energy, turning that anxiety into mush. You let out a relieved breath. The family went back to their gossiping or bickering or whatever else they had gotten up to.

You rinsed the last dish, leaving it to dry on the towel near the sink before joining the three men on the porch. You silently settled into your favorite seat -- Ben’s lap --, cuddling into his chest while he held you.

It was a good day, all of your family finally becoming familiar with each other.

Ben had thought it before the dinner, but now he knew. This was his family as much as it was yours. He couldn’t imagine a better place to belong to, a better place to raise up a couple of kids, with you by his side.

jensen ackles taglist: @arcannaa @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery

soldier boy taglist: @sl33pylilbunny

[invincibledc]

₊˚⊹⋆

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄₊˚⊹⋆

────୨ৎ────

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐗 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Summary: you think you’re heavy? Mark wants all your heavy love onto him.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Info: inspired by odetari’s music of “heavy love” Hehhe. Werewolf!boyfriend!reader x mark grayson small work here!

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Genre: lime/comfort(?)

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Warning: slight aka suggestive work. Yknow what yeah it’s lime. Reader doubting Mark’s strength and this being mark before season 3

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Word count: 1,008

Lying down on Mark’s bed, you couldn’t help but keep scrolling through pages on Instagram. Littered with tons of fangirls yapping about how invincible could bench press a whole building if he wanted to.

You scoffed at this, sure mark was strong. But he can’t be that strong.

Shit, you’re a big guy. Not chubby, but just big. Mark is shorter than you, but loves to top you.

You cannot fuck that little ass dog, he does the fucking. Either way, you keep scrolling throughout your for you page, looking at some news.

Mark comes into his room, walking over as he held your favorite soda in hand. “Heyyy, guess what I found in the fridge. “No way, [fav.soda]! Give it here.” You say up quick to grab at it.

Mark moves back before you could even really reach the damned beverage.

“Ah ah, what do we say?” Mark teased with a knowing smile.

“I won’t say it.”

“Cmon… it’s in the paper of being boyfriends. You have to say it.”

Grumbling, you looked at him. “Thanks.. daddy.”

Mark chuckles under his breath before giving you the drink. “That’s better, baby.” He hands you the drink. You gave him the middle finger, sick of his shit. Mark lets out another laugh before he rest up against you.

You drank the soda, ignoring his lingering eyes onto your pectorals. He’s always had the weird urge since dating you to just, grab them. And now here he is, staring at them as he looks at your stoic face.

“Can I?” He says softly, he reaches his hand towards it. Just to cup it. But a hand smack leaves him with a pout.

“No. No touching til I say so.”

“Yes sir.” Mark says with a grin. You couldn’t help but laugh, despite his position in this relationship. You walk him like dog, okay not really but he’s such a munch for his boyfriend.

You guys started to relax a bit, day turned into night. You were casually out of the showers, mark had already finished his. He sat at his desk, looking through his computer with a bored look.

Hearing the bathroom door open, he turns his head to see you walk into his room, closing it. His eyes rank over your body. Hunger written onto his expression, but not the “ooh food” hunger.

But hunger for a certain man. And that man is you.

“Hey.” He says softly, leaning back into his chair. He pats his lap, you raised a brow. You oddly felt conscious about your build. You shake your head, moving over to his bed to lay down.

Mark frowns, turning his eyes to see you lay down. You usually sit on his lap, at any chance like any chance he gets to touch you.

He yearns to touch you, to be by you. He can’t live a moment without not being by you or at least having a handful of you.

“What’s wrong?” He says, not even trying to hide his concern. “It’s nothing.” You simple said, going onto your phone.

You were clearly hiding something, he always can tell when something was up with you. He gets from his desk, moving towards you.

“Cmon… something’s bothering you babe.” Sighing, you confessed to him. “Okay so I scrolled onto instagram and seen some of your,” you air quoted mid sentence, “fangirls talking about you can just bench press anything like a building.” “I could.” “Shut up I’m not finished mark.” Mark held up his hands in a surrendering gesture before putting them down and listening.

“You’re still human mark, no way in hell could you just lift up a building. Hell I don’t think you can even lift me.” Mark scrunched his face up.

“Yes I can.”

“No you can’t.”

“Do you even know who my dad is, y/n?” You raised a brow as he sat down, letting the bed sink a bit. “Yeah. He’s Omni man.” Mark nods, “and I’m his son. I know I don’t tell you much. But I’m sure I can show you how I can handle you.”

It all happened so quickly. Mark lifts you onto him, you could feel him squeeze your muscular thighs. His eyes blown out as he stares at you as if you lifted the entire stars and galaxy. “I can’t get how you think I can’t just lift you up and destroy you.” He says lowly. His voice low and deep, dripping with lust.

“Well.. do it.” A dark smirk reaches his face as his hands goes up onto your hips, giving them a quick squeeze.

“As your command.” He starts to kiss your neck, leaving you let out a soft sigh. You can feel him grazing his teeth against your Adam Apple.

His hands pressing against your ass, squeezing it. You yelp a bit, feeling flustered despite the times he’s done this before. He then kissed you, your lips mingling with his.

He bites your bottom lip, looking up at you whilst you had your arms around his neck. His hands leaves your hips to go under your shirt.

Caressing your abs to your chest, god he presses his lips harder against your own. You taste so good to him, his fingers rubbing against the bud of your nipples. Cupping your chest, you moan against his lips, breathing heavy.

As mark goes to take your shirt off, Debbie bursts in. That made you immediately get off mark, leaving mark devastated in his mind but flustered on the outside.

“Mom!”

“What? I just want to say goodnight to you both… but if you guys are doing anything weird in here. Keep it down to a minimum.” Debbie then leaves, leaving you and mark a little embarrassed.

“Uh… wanna just cuddle for the night?” Mark asked as he turned to you. “Yeah.. that’ll be nice.” You said with a slight smile.

You and mark laid down after he turned the lights off and placed the covers over you both.

Guess you forgot how strong he could be….

[lewisvinga]

como no te voy a querer | jude bellingham x alonso! fem! reader

summary; when the princess of the paddock is dating the golden boy of real madrid but she happens to have a grid full of drivers who are very protective of her

fc; rita mota

warnings; cursing i think, suggestive comment

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; saw fernando at the benrabeu at the semifinals and i had to…. BUT WE’RE GOING INTO THE UCL FINALLLL!!! A POR LA 15😭🤍🤍🤍 pls don’t mind the misspelt bernabéu in one of the tweets lollll

masterlist !

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liked by judebellingham, fernandoalo_official, and others !

yourusername: when in spain….

tagged; judebellingham

fernandoalo_official: siempre tan linda, mija😍 [always so pretty, my daughter]

yourusername: papáaaa🥹🥹

judebellingham: wowwwww

judebellingham: well aren’t you a lovely lady 🥴

yourusername: ur fine too i guess…🙄

yourusername: jk ur very fine 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

maxverstappen1: she’s a child.

yourusername: i’m 20????🤨

charles_leclerc: a child.

username: omg her sign for el clásico 😭what a queen tbh

username: y/n 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

username: jude can u fight? 🤔🤔

carlossainz55: pq estabas en españa sola??🤔 [why were you in spain alone]

yourusername: because i’m spanish and my bf lives here?🤔

fernandoalo_official: you’re with your boyfriend alone???

yourusername: no edu is always there 🙄

camavinga: 🤗🤗

judebellingham: edu😘😘

landonorris: and why are you flirting with someone else when u have a girlfriend ….

yourusername: oh like your bromance w carlos doesn’t exist !

username: nah the drivers comments are always so funny😭😭

yourusername: oh it’s torture, can’t even appreciate my sexy bf in peace 🙄

camavinga: OUR sexy bf😘

username: CAMA OH??😭

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liked by judebellingham, carmenmmundt, and others !

yourusername: i guess you could say i get my cuntiness from my dad xx

tagged; fernandoalo_official, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, landonorris, judebellingham

location; miami 🌴

username: not her tagging jude on her lips 😭😭

username: me n who ong

fernandoalo_official: i’m cunty or whatever the hell it is you guys say

yourusername: tea 💅

username: THE CHEETAHHH PRINT😍

username: here before simp jude

judebellingham: wow.

judebellingham: just wow.

judebellingham: you are unbelievable 😍😍

yourusername: 💗💗💗💗

landonorris: STAND BACK 🤺🤺🤺

judebellingham: a lot of talking for a man who asked for my jersey🥱🥱🥱

yourusername: he got you there….

landonorris: okay fine… you win this time…

username: the alonsos are so cunty

username: PARTY NANDOOOO

username: i will never get over her n jude sawrry😖😫😖

maxverstappen1: well you better.

username: HUHHH???😀

charles_leclerc: stinky man around y/n, you’ll get over it

yourusername: you guys are sooooo…..

judebellingham: max is just mad abt el clásico score 😬😬

maxverstappen1: damn right.

carlossainz55: only time jude is tolerable 😁

yourusername: not very madridista of u carlos

judebellingham: yeah🙄🙄🙄

carlossainz55: y/n protector first sorry🫡

carmenmmundt: gorgeous gorgeous girl❤️❤️

yourusername: ily🥹

yourusername: also tell george to stop sending jude threats over instagram

georgerussell63: no.

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yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; going back home hungover 😬] [caption 2; morning 💗 judebellingham] [caption 3; date night fit 🤺] [caption 4; mi amor 🤍🤍 judebellingham]

judebellingham wow😍😍😍😍

judebellingham u single ??????

yourusername yeah:/// my bf has another bf:///

judebellingham HES MY BFF!!!!😖😖

yourusername cus why did cama see u in the showers almost naked after signing a new contract…..🤨🤨

judebellingham like you haven’t seen less🙄🙄

yourusername whyd u say that my dad saw and now’s he’s questioning me😭

yourusername he said why aren’t u preparing for the match 🙄

judebellingham ur dad is scary

judebellingham tell him the match is in 7 hours i still have chill time 🙄🙄

judebellingham DONT mention the rolling eyes emoji he is scary enough

yourusername fernando alonso??? scary??? a menace maybe,,,,🤣

yourusername good luck my love 💗 take it easy on the knee though!

judebellingham i’ll try, it’ll be a tough match:/

yourusername papa alonso said good luck too

judebellingham tell him i said tyvm😁😁😁

georgerussell63 why is he shirtless 🤨

yourusername you’re one to talk…

maxverstappen1 🤮🤮

yourusername ahhhh u madddddddd

yourusername la liga champion😛😛

maxverstappen1 i have 3 wdcs🙄🙄

yourusername and yet, real madrid won la liga!

maxverstappen1 tap in merchant 😒😒😒

yourusername ……

yourusername he scored a banger at el clasico i wouldn’t speak if i were u

maxverstappen1 😒😒😒😒

lewishamilton u should’ve been at the met 🙄

yourusername gf duties calls😞

charles_leclerc …..

charles_leclerc why is he around u naked🤔

yourusername bc he’s my bf????🤨

charles_leclerc why

yourusername bc i love him??

charles_leclerc but why

yourusername bye charles 🙄🙄🙄

charles_leclerc WHYYY

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liked by judebellingham, vinijr, and others !

yourusername: como no te voy a querer?🤍🤍 [how am i not going to love you?] congratulations on making it to the final, mi amor, te quiero mucho🤍🤍 [my love, i love you so much] and so so proud of you and the squad 🫶🫶

tagged; judebellingham, vinijr, lukamodric10

judebellingham: my lucky charm

judebellingham: i love you so much

judebellingham: te quiero 😍

yourusername: when he speaks spanish for you🥴🥴🥴

fernandoalo_official: so that’s why i can hear y/n giggling…

username: jude speaking in spanish for y/n, this is so sick

username: ME AND WHO😩😩

username: thank u y/n for blessing us w jude 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

username: can’t believe joselu scored a brace 😭

username: we gonna get a bellingol soon #trust

carlossainz55: A POR LA 15😍😍 hala madrid🤍

yourusername: now u wanna act fine w jude 🙄

carlossainz55: WHO CARES WE’RE IN THE FINAL!!!

maxverstappen1: I CARE!!! heja bvb or however it goes!!🙄🙄

oscarpiastri: you gotta respect max for keeping up the hater act icl

judebellingham: he sure hates a lot for someone who lost his win streak

maxverstappen1: hey watch it…

carlossainz55: can we get back to the fact real madrid is in the ucl final???🤍🎉🎉

judebellingham: yes😁

vinijr: Y/NNNNNNN HALA MADRIDDDDDD

yourusername: HALA MADRID NUESTO MOTM !!! [our motm/man of the match]

fernandoalo_official: good game, jude👍

judebellingham: omg thank you so much, sir! it means a lot!😊

camavinga: who are you and what did you to do my jude

aurelientchm: that’s not jude…🤣

rodrygogoes: ‘😊’

yourusername: well, he’s MY jude and he’s just scared of my dad🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: good.

landonorris: good.

lewishamilton: good.

maxverstappen1: good.

georgerussell63: good.

alex_albon: good.

judebellingham: oh! 😀

yourusername: don’t mind them🙄

[sleeplessbunni]

Don’t get caught!

Sevika x Fem!Reader

SMUT

Sevika knew from the beginning it was a bad idea. So did you. But it was far too tempting, especially for her.

Silco was her boss. How could she be fucking around with her bosses daughter? I mean, it’s not like you cared. You were his kid, the only thing you’d get if you got caught was a slap on the wrist. But much more was at stake for Sevika. But she just couldn’t help herself, not when it came to you.

“Come on, my dad’s working right now, he won’t find us.” You tried to persuade Sevika away from her gambling addiction. “I’m in the middle of poker, I haven’t finished my whiskey, and most importantly, what if someone sees?” She retaliated. You rolled your eyes at her. “Oh my god, you’re no fun. Let’s just go fool around for a minute. Your buddies over here won’t even know your gone!”

She shakes her head. “You know what,” she slams her cards on the table, showing her royal flush, winning the entire game.(I have no clue if this is correct, I googled it😭) “Let’s go.”

You giggled, grabbing her hand and dragging her off into some nook where you won’t be found.

Once you two are sure no one will find you, you pulled her into a rough kiss. She gave you the exact same passion back. She possessively put her hands on your hips to press you up against her hips.

“Vika…” you whined. She tapped your thigh, signaling you to jump. Once you were fully in her arms, she continued her merciless attack on your lips.

You guys were in some small room within the Last Drop. The door had a lock but neither of you bothered because… who would walk into a tiny little room in the back of the bar?

Sevika sat you on a waist high shelf with her crotch pressed against yours. You involuntarily grinded up against her. You knew this wouldn’t be as fast as it should be. After all, Sevika loved to make you beg.

“Come on sev, we don’t have a lot of time, please…” you begged her. She chuckled, “Ok baby, I guess I won’t make you wait,”

She continued to kiss you, unbuckling her belt. That’s when you felt it, she was packing, of course. She pulled your tiny shorts to the side while stroking her strap like it was her own.

She rubbed the tip between your folds. Completely soaking it. “God damn woman, you’re so wet for me.” Her low raspy voice had you lightly moaning into her touch. “Hurry uuupppp” you whined impatiently.

And with that, she plunged the silicone toy straight into your heat. You couldn’t help but let out a loud breathy moan. “You better keep quiet.” She threatened, not wanting anyone to find you guys.

She was pumping in and out of you at an ungodly pace. She gripped your hair and tugged your head back so you were looking directly into her piercing gaze. “Oh- fuck,” you squeaking out.

You guys lost track of all time. To distracted by each others intoxicating scents of arousal. She pulled you into a sloppy make out.

In fact, you guys wear so distracted, you didn’t even realize the foot steps coming closer…and closer…and closer.

You two finally noticed when someone came bursting through the door. Luckily for you tho, it was just Thieram. Coming to tell you guys some upsetting news.

“HOLY SHIT” Sevika shouts at him, trying to cover what was showing that shouldn’t be. You gasped and blushed, hiding your flushed face in her chest.

“Uhh, sorry. Umm” he cleared his throat before starting again. “Um, it’s about to be closing time, and the boss wants to see you two, whenever you’re ready I guess,” he stated, then walked away.

“We’re fucked,” you said sheepishly. “I’m fucked, you’ll be just fine. He’s my boss, your dad.” You groan and bury your face below her chest.

Whatever he says to you guys, it can’t be that bad…right?

Sorry it took so long, im incompetent🫶🏻

Divider by: @miuji

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Stirred & Sweet

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: T (Teen)

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Word count: 3k+

Warning: Mild language, teasing from teammates, and an excessive amount of Dirty Shirleys.

Summary: being a bartender isn’t so bad after all

A/N: I got carried away and I didn’t want to do more than one part though… enjoy

🏷️: @yailtsv

There are slow nights at Ted’s, and then there are nights like this—where the place is packed shoulder to shoulder, the music is loud enough to shake the walls, and I’m pretty sure I’ll smell like grenadine for the next three days.

It’s my usual Friday night shift, and I’m behind the bar, flipping between orders faster than I can process them. But then, right in the middle of pouring a vodka soda, I hear a voice that’s unmistakable over the noise.

“Yo, can I get a Dirty Shirley?”

I don’t even have to look up. I already know.

Paige Bueckers.

Five-year UConn legend. Face of the program. Probably could get a drink for free just by flashing that stupidly perfect smile.

I glance up, and sure enough, she’s leaning against the bar, chin resting on her hand, watching me with that casual, slightly smug expression. Azzi, Ice, and the rest of the team are packed in behind her, laughing and teasing each other.

“Gotcha,” I say, grabbing a glass. “Coming right up.”

I make Dirty Shirleys all the time—it’s one of the easiest drinks in the book. But mine? Mine are the best. It’s not just about throwing Sprite, vodka, and grenadine into a cup. It’s about balance, ratios, the right kind of vodka, and just a little extra touch.

I slide the drink across the counter. “One Dirty Shirley, Bueckers. Hope it lives up to the hype.”

Paige takes a sip, and for a second, her expression is unreadable. Then, her eyes widen slightly, and she licks her lips like she’s trying to make sure she actually tasted what she thinks she did.

“Oh, hell no.” She looks at her teammates. “This is the best one I’ve had in five years.”

Azzi snorts. “You’ve had a lot of Dirty Shirleys, huh?”

“You don’t understand, Z.” Paige turns back to me. “How did you—what did you do?”

I grin, wiping my hands on a bar rag. “Trade secret.”

“No, for real. How are you this good at making drinks?”

I lean on the counter. “My dad owns a bar back home. He taught me everything. Ratios, ingredients, even flair bartending when I was like thirteen—don’t ask me why he thought that was a good idea. By the time I was seventeen, I could make drinks better than half the bartenders at his place.”

Paige shakes her head, impressed. “Damn. So I just got served a professional-level Dirty Shirley?”

“Something like that.” I smirk. “And now, the only way you’re getting one this good is if I make it myself.”

She raises a brow, a challenge in her eyes. “Bet.”

⸻

From that night on, Paige only orders Dirty Shirleys if I’m the one making them.

It turns into a thing.

She’ll walk into Ted’s, lock eyes with me across the bar, and hold up a finger—no words, just that stupidly charming smirk. And I already know. One Dirty Shirley, coming right up.

She hypes it up to the team, tells anyone who’ll listen that I make the best ones. She even gets a little dramatic about it sometimes.

“I refuse to drink a basic one now,” she tells me one night, sipping happily. “You’ve ruined them for me.”

“Oh no,” I deadpan. “Whatever will you do when I graduate?”

“Guess I’ll have to marry you, so you can make them for me forever.”

I choke on my laugh. “Paige.”

She just winks and takes another sip.

⸻

A few weeks later, it’s almost 2 AM when my phone buzzes.

I groan, rolling over, barely registering the name on my screen before answering.

“Paige,” I mumble. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?”

“Okay, don’t be mad,” she says, which means she’s about to say something ridiculous. “But I really want a Shirley Temple.”

I squint at my phone, confused. “Like… a non-alcoholic one?”

“Yes.”

I blink. “You called me at two in the morning for that?”

“You’re the only one who makes them right!” she whines. “Please? I’ll owe you forever.”

I sigh, already sitting up. “You better leave your door unlocked.”

⸻

When I get to her dorm, she’s waiting at the door, practically bouncing.

“You actually came,” she grins.

“You sounded desperate,” I tease, lifting the pitcher. “Figured it was my duty.”

She drags me inside, already pulling out cups. “You’re a lifesaver.”

We end up on the couch, sipping Shirley Temples and watching Friends. Somewhere between episodes, I stretch out, and Paige throws a blanket over both of us.

It’s late. Really late. But she’s warm next to me, and my eyes are getting heavier.

I wake up hours later to the sound of the TV playing softly, Paige’s head resting against my shoulder, and an almost-empty pitcher on the coffee table.

Not bad for a midnight call.

⸻

A week later, I’m back at work when Paige shows up again. But this time, she doesn’t ask for a Dirty Shirley.

“You’re trying something new tonight,” I tell her, already reaching for ingredients.

She looks skeptical. “You’re experimenting on me?”

“Yup.” I grin, setting up the glass. “I promise it’ll be good.”

She watches as I pour Seagram’s Ginger Ale, add two and a half shots of Don Julio, a shot of Tequila Silver, then grab an orange popsicle straight out of the freezer. I drop it in, stick and all, then drizzle in some strawberry syrup.

Paige raises a brow. “What the hell is this?”

“A masterpiece.” I slide it to her. “Try it.”

She takes a sip, then licks her lips slowly, processing the taste.

“Oh, that’s dangerous,” she murmurs.

“Told you.”

She takes another sip, eyes lighting up. “Okay, this is actually insane. What’s it called?”

I wipe down the counter. “I don’t know yet. You get to name it.”

She thinks for a second, then smirks. “Huskies Sunset.”

I laugh. “Why?”

“Because it looks like a sunset, and it’ll probably make you howl if you drink too much.”

I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love it.” She grins, lifting her glass. “To Huskies Sunsets.”

And just like that, we’ve got a new favorite.

A few days later Paige send me a text

Paige: Yo, you working tonight?

Me: Yeah, why? You tryna bother me while I work again?

Paige: Maybe. Also… bring your best sales pitch.

I stare at my phone, confused, but before I can ask what she means, she sends another message.

Paige: Just trust me. You’ll thank me later.

I shake my head, pocket my phone, and head to Ted’s.

⸻

When I walk in, I immediately notice something weird.

My boss, Mike, is standing behind the bar—not working, just standing there, arms crossed, a deep-in-thought look on his face. And across from him, sitting on a stool like she owns the place, is Paige.

The moment she sees me, she waves. “Took you long enough.”

I set my bag down. “What’s going on?”

Mike looks at me, then at Paige, then back at me. “Your girl here has been talking my ear off about adding some drink to the menu.”

I blink. “Wait… what?”

Paige smirks. “Huskies Sunset. I told him it deserves a permanent spot.”

My jaw nearly drops. “Paige.”

She shrugs, all casual. “It’s a hit. I mean, I should know—I’ve had like five.”

Mike sighs, rubbing his temple. “Look, I’m not against it, but I don’t just put random drinks on the menu. It’s gotta sell.”

Paige leans forward. “It will sell. I promise you. Y/N makes the best drinks on campus, and this one is dangerous in the best way. People will eat it up.”

I can’t help but smile a little. She’s really going to bat for me.

Mike looks at me. “You got a name for this thing?”

I nod. “Huskies Sunset.”

He thinks for a moment, then sighs. “Fine. But it’s on a trial run. If it doesn’t sell, it’s out.”

Paige claps her hands. “Oh, it’ll sell. Just wait.”

⸻

Turns out, she wasn’t wrong.

The moment word gets out that there’s a Paige-approved drink on the menu, people start ordering it like crazy. It gets to a point where I can barely keep up—I’ve got orange popsicles flying, tequila pouring, and strawberry syrup everywhere.

And of course, the team eats it up.

Azzi is the first to tease me. “Wow, Paige gets one favorite bartender, and now she’s getting drinks added to the menu?”

Ice shakes her head. “Nah, this is next-level simp behavior.”

I roll my eyes. “She just likes the drink.”

Ayanna grins. “Just the drink? Y’all are literally always together.”

I scoff. “We are not.”

Paige, unbothered, sips her Huskies Sunset. “We kinda are.”

And that’s all it takes. The teasing gets worse.

Suddenly, everyone’s pointing out every little thing we do together—how we study at the same table in the library, how Paige randomly FaceTimes me while I’m at work, how we spend way too much time coming up with new drink ideas.

It doesn’t help that one night, she asks me to teach her how to bartend.

I try to play it cool, but the moment she steps behind the bar, sleeves rolled up, ready to learn? Yeah. I might be in trouble.

⸻

��Alright, Rookie,” I say, setting a bottle of tequila on the counter. “First lesson: pouring without spilling.”

Paige smirks. “Easy.”

It is not easy.

She tries to pour a shot, but the moment the liquid starts flowing, she panics, overcorrects, and half of it ends up on her hand.

I laugh. “Oh, yeah. Natural talent.”

She glares at me, shaking tequila off her fingers. “Okay, okay. Let me try again.”

She does better on the second attempt, actually filling the shot glass without a mess.

I nod approvingly. “Look at that. You’re learning.”

She grins. “Told you I could do it.”

I lean against the counter. “Alright, next test. Shaking a cocktail.”

I set up a simple drink and hand her the shaker. “Two hands, firm grip, shake hard but controlled.”

Paige takes it, mimicking my stance, and starts shaking. At first, she looks focused. But then, halfway through, the lid pops off.

Cue tequila flying everywhere.

I barely dodge it, while Paige gasps, looking at the mess.

“Oh, my God.” She stares at me. “Did I just—”

I burst out laughing. “You definitely just showered us in tequila.”

She winces. “Oops.”

I grab a rag, wiping my arms. “You’re lucky I like you.”

She smirks. “You like me?”

I freeze for half a second.

“…Shut up.”

⸻

The teasing from the team only gets worse after that.

Especially when they find out Paige has a new habit of calling me in the middle of the night.

KK: Ayo, why did I just hear that Y/N got up at 2 AM to bring Paige a Shirley Temple?

Ice: A Shirley. Temple. AT 2 IN THE MORNING?

Azzi: Just date already, my God.

Me: IT WAS JUST A DRINK.

Paige: I have high standards, what can I say?

Caroline adds a poll to the team’s group chat:

Will Y/N and Paige finally admit they’re basically together?

✔ Yes, they’re oblivious

✔ No, but they should be

✔ They’re already dating and just don’t know it yet

Paige just sends a single response.

Paige: Drink up, haters.

⸻

A few nights later, Paige shows up at the bar with an idea.

“So, we’ve got Huskies Sunset,” she says, sliding into her usual seat in front of me. “But we need something else. Something bigger.”

I raise a brow. “Bigger?”

She nods. “Like… a team drink.”

I pause, considering it. “A UConn team drink?”

“Yeah! Something for game nights. Something we can all order and make a thing.”

I grin. “Alright, Challenge Accepted.”

We spend the next few nights messing with ideas, trying out flavors, and (accidentally) getting a little buzzed in the process. Paige is surprisingly good at taste-testing—she knows exactly what she likes, and she’s weirdly good at pairing flavors.

Finally, we land on something.

Blue curaçao for the Huskies’ blue, lemonade for a crisp, refreshing taste, a splash of Sprite for bubbles, and a frozen lemon slice on the rim.

The Husky Huddle.

When we debut it, the team goes crazy.

“Oh, this is dangerous,” Azzi says after her first sip.

Aubrey nods. “Yeah, we’re gonna need this before every away game.”

Ice grins. “Okay, but y’all see what’s happening, right?”

Ayanna smirks. “Oh, we see it.”

Paige looks at me, all innocent. “See what?”

Azzi shakes her head. “Y’all are literally co-owners of the Ted’s bar menu at this point.”

Ice grins. “More like co-owners of each other.”

Paige chokes on her drink. I roll my eyes.

“Y’all are so annoying.”

Azzi just raises her glass. “To Huskies Sunsets, Husky Huddles, and to Paige and Y/N finally admitting they’re a thing.”

Paige and I exchange glances, then both sigh.

We clink our glasses together.

“To Huskies Sunsets,” I say.

“To the best bartender at UConn,” Paige adds, smirking.

⸻

Six Months Later

By now, Paige is a staple at Ted’s.

She still only orders Huskies Sunsets when I’m working. Still calls me in the middle of the night for Shirley Temples. Still shows up unannounced to drag me out for “taste-testing” sessions.

The team hasn’t let up on the teasing. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

KK: So, what’s the hold-up? Y’all married yet?

Ice: I give it another month before Paige breaks and asks Y/N out.

Azzi: One month? You’re generous. I say two weeks.

I just roll my eyes every time. Paige and I—we’re just us. We exist in this weird, perfect space where we know we like each other, but neither of us says it out loud.

Until the night she makes me a drink.

⸻

It’s a slow night, one of those rare ones where I’m not drowning in orders. Paige is at the bar, as usual, twirling a straw between her fingers like she’s debating something.

Then, out of nowhere, she stands up.

“Okay, switch places with me.”

I blink. “Huh?”

She jerks her head toward the bar. “I wanna make you a drink.”

I scoff. “Paige, last time you were back here, you covered yourself in tequila.”

She grins. “Yeah, but I’ve learned. Trust me.”

I hesitate, then sigh, stepping aside. “Alright, Rookie. Show me what you got.”

She cracks her knuckles, looking way too serious for someone making a cocktail.

She starts with a base of passionfruit juice, a splash of lime, then adds two shots of rum. But then, she does something unexpected—she grabs a bottle of peach liqueur and pours just a little in, followed by a drizzle of honey.

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s… an interesting mix.”

Paige winks. “Trust the process.”

She shakes it (without spilling this time) and pours it into a glass over crushed ice. Then, to top it off, she adds a small mint leaf and slides it across the counter.

I pick it up, skeptical, and take a sip.

And damn.

It’s smooth, a little sweet, a little tart, with just the right kick.

I look up at her, surprised. “Paige. This is actually good.”

She smirks. “I know.”

I take another sip, then tilt my head. “What’s it called?”

She leans on the counter, looking at me with that lazy grin of hers.

“Date Night.”

My heart does a full-on somersault.

I set the drink down carefully. “Paige.”

She shrugs, trying (and failing) to look casual. “So, what do you think? Wanna make it official?”

I stare at her for a long second, then grin. “Well, I do like the drink.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “That’s all I get? After six months of pining?”

I take another sip. “Mmm… maybe you should take me out on a real date and find out.”

She leans in, eyes bright. “Deal.”

⸻

Four Years Later

If you had told me back then that one day I’d own my own bar, I probably would’ve laughed in your face.

But here I am, standing behind the counter of Sundown, my very own place in Dallas, with a fresh-cut lime in one hand and my phone buzzing on the counter.

I glance at the screen.

Paige: You at the bar?

Me: Where else would I be?

Paige: Cool. I’m ten minutes away.

I shake my head, smiling to myself.

Some things never change.

⸻

When Paige walks in, the place is packed. It’s a Friday night, and everyone’s here for happy hour, but the moment she steps inside, a few heads turn.

She’s in a hoodie and joggers, looking effortlessly cool, like she didn’t just drop 25 points on the Mercury last night.

She slides into her usual seat at the bar, grinning at me. “What’s up, Superstar?”

I snort. “You’re the only superstar here.”

She taps the counter. “Debatable. Now, hit me with the usual.”

I shake my head, already reaching for the ingredients. “Still not tired of Huskies Sunsets?”

She grins. “Never.”

I make her drink, sliding it over with a flourish. She takes a slow sip, eyes locked on me the whole time.

Then, she sets the glass down and leans in, voice softer. “So… you excited for tomorrow?”

Tomorrow.

Our engagement party.

I glance down at the ring on my finger—the one Paige had slipped on my hand last year after surprising me with a proposal at Ted’s.

(She had tried to be all smooth, but her hands were shaking so bad she almost dropped the ring in my drink.)

I smile. “Excited? Yeah. A little nervous? Also yeah.”

Paige tilts her head. “Nervous why?”

I gesture around. “I don’t know… this bar, this life—it’s everything I wanted. And now we’re about to start a whole new chapter.”

She reaches across the bar, taking my hand in hers. “And that scares you?”

I shake my head. “No. It just… feels big.”

Paige squeezes my hand. “Well, for the record, I think we’re gonna be just fine.”

I look at her—the same Paige who used to drag me out of bed for late-night Shirley Temples, who spent hours behind the bar learning to mix drinks just so we could have an excuse to hang out longer.

The same Paige who, after all these years, still only orders Huskies Sunsets if I’m the one making them.

I squeeze her hand back. “Yeah. I think so too.”

She grins. “Good. Now, gimme another drink. And make it something new.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Something new?”

She nods. “Yeah. Something fresh. Something that screams ‘future wife of a WNBA star.’”

I laugh, already reaching for a bottle. “Alright, challenge accepted.”

And as I start mixing, Paige just sits there, watching me with that soft, lazy grin—the one that says she’d spend forever right here if I let her.

Good thing forever is exactly what we have.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[henry7931]

Starting College?

Alex:

I don’t know how I feel right now, I guess I’m kinda excited but I really wasn’t planning for this. You see, the body I’m in actually belongs to my big brother Max.

My brother Max and I have this special ability where we can swap bodies. We used to do it all the time when we were younger and use it to our benefit— like I’m good with Math but Max is good at English. No one knows about our ability including our parents.

So right before Max leaves for college, he panicked and begged me to go as him instead.

“Bro please! I know you’re so ready to get out of here anyways. Just go for me, I’ll out here in your body,” he says to me.

“I don’t know Max, you think you’ll regret not going? That’s your body, your life,” I say to him.

“Alex, you and I both know that’s not true. We share our bodies. To me, my body is just as much as yours as it’s mine. Now can you please swap with me?,” he says grabbing my hands.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

I felt nervous and excited. I thought to myself— am I ready to live on my own? I have always been the more independent one…

I also love having my brother’s body. I just feel so confident when I’m him. And the fact that he’s even offering it to me… saying his body is just as much mine as it is his….

“One more thing Max, I want your body the entire freshman year. I’m not going up there and have you call me—”

“Done,” he says shaking on it.

We immediately swapped bodies and as I ride off with my parents waving good bye to my body with my brother inside— I couldn’t help but feel so much excitement rushing through me.

I look down at Max’s hands and legs… I feel right when I’m inside of him.

Hours later…

I get to my new dorm and my parents help me unpack. They say goodbye to me and it feels so strange hearing them call me Max over and over again. I’m gonna have to get used to it.

Before they leave my dad takes a picture of me sitting on my new bed.

And just like that— I was alone in my own dorm room.

Time passes and I wait around to see if I have a roommate but to my surprise no one ever shows up.

I guess this is a good thing, I can have my own privacy and space.

I lock my door and immediately pulled off all of the clothes my brother put on this morning.

Now nearly naked, I stare at my brother’s muscled frame in the mirror.

I run his hands down his abs and open up the waistband to his briefs.

I look inside and my new equipment. Max is notably well endowed. I’ve interacted with it a few times, primarily to go to the bathroom.

But I’ve never jerked off with it. Something about it felt like I was crossing a line. Although now that this is my body for atleast a year… fuck it!

I craw up to my bed fully naked. I run my hands down to my legs all the way to my new cute feet. Max has really nice feet, I’ve always admired them.

I run my fingers in between my toes grinning at them… they’re mine. I bring one of my feet up to my face. I sniff it and take in the smell…

I kiss each of my toes and notice that I’m so hard that pre-cum is already dripping out of my cock.

I take a sample and taste it…

I start running my fingers over my tight balls and hard dick when my door opens…

“Oh fuck!!!,” says a hot guy standing at the door.

“Shit!!!” I grab a blanket and wrap it around my waste.

“Dude I’m so sorry…”

“Uhhh it’s okay man. I’m Josh,” he says to me waving.

“Hey im uh— I’m Max! I guess we’re roommates?,” I say to him.

“Yeah I guess so,” he says to me. Josh’s eyes focus in on my noticeable wood still standing at full attention.

“Oh sorry… I uh…,” I stumble through my words when Josh says, “need to jerk off? It’s okay dude, I can give you some privacy or join in.”

Wait is this guy flirting with me???

“I wouldn’t mind if you joined,” I say very matter fact.

Josh pulls off all of his clothes and I toss off my blanket. Both of us start making out.

He pushes me onto his bed and starts kissing down my chest.

“Damn, this is great,” he says to me.

“Yeah?,” I say to him.

“Yeah, I got a hot roommate with a nice dick. It’s about to be the best year ever,” he says to me.

Josh starts sucking me off and it sends me into like another universe!!

Fuck this is going to be the best year ever!!!

6 Months Later…

A lot has happened this year. For starters, I have a boyfriend. And to no surprise it’s my roommate Josh.

Not only that but I’ve made some big changes. I joined a frat and have been working out more.

I even got my first tattoo!!

And I feel so comfortable with my life now. The funny thing is Alex (previously Max) feels the same way.

Both of us feel so much more comfortable in our bodies and I don’t think we’re ever going to switch back.

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #14

It all started with a ghost. A very loud, very neon, very annoying ghost that thought it was a great idea to haunt Stark Tower. Danny Fenton—part-time student, full-time accidental hero, and perpetually exhausted teen—was just trying to track the damn thing through the Manhattan skyline when his portal malfunctioned (again), exploded in his face (again), and slingshotted him across the sky, straight through a window that turned out to be reinforced vibranium glass.

It should’ve stopped him. It didn’t.

Cue the alarms. Cue the dozens of defense drones locking onto his energy signature. Cue a 19-year-old Danny dangling upside down in the penthouse, surrounded by billion-dollar murder bots, trying to explain to a very confused AI that he was not, in fact, an alien invader.

But before FRIDAY could blast him into oblivion, a small voice piped up from behind a couch. “Are you a fairy?”

Danny blinked. Dangling upside down. Singed suit. Ectoplasm dripping from his hair. “Uh. Sure.”

The voice belonged to a tiny, curly-haired gremlin wearing a tutu, light-up sneakers, and what looked like Tony Stark’s old Iron Man helmet—three sizes too big and twice as chaotic. This was Morgan Stark. Age: five. Chaos level: eldritch god. She approached him like a cat approaches a new toy: equal parts curiosity and threat assessment.

“Can you do sparkles?” she asked.

Danny shot a tiny beam of ecto-energy at the ceiling light, which exploded into fireworks.

Morgan gasped. “OH MY GOD, YOU ARE A FAIRY.”

And that was how Danny Fenton became Morgan Stark’s official babysitter.

It wasn’t like he volunteered. Or got paid. Or even agreed. Tony Stark had been out of the country—something about a diplomatic mess in Wakanda and a golf game with T’Challa. Pepper had begged Steve Rogers to watch Morgan, but Steve’s idea of babysitting was forcing a child to recite the Constitution. So Pepper, desperate and very, very sleep-deprived, walked into her penthouse to find a teenage boy hovering in midair while her daughter screamed “FAIRY GODBRO” at him and decided, “Yeah. Sure. This’ll do.”

“Can you keep her alive?” Pepper asked, not even blinking at the glowing green eyes.

Danny shrugged. “Uh. I guess?”

“You get dental.”

Danny had no idea what that meant but was too scared to argue.

By Day Three, he was in hell. Not the Ghost Zone. Not some apocalyptic alternate timeline. Actual hell. Or what felt like it. Morgan had no concept of mortality. She once duct-taped kitchen knives to her arms and yelled “I’M WOLVERINE NOW.” Another time, she tried to feed their Roomba peanut butter and sobbed when it wouldn’t eat.

Danny tried to keep up. He really did.

Unfortunately, he was also being hunted by an interdimensional ghost warlord named Balthazar the Undying who decided Stark Tower was a great place to stage his declaration of conquest. So in between coloring pages and singing “Let It Go” for the 57th time (because Morgan said if he didn’t, she’d tell everyone he “pees ectoplasm”), Danny was banishing ancient horrors to the Shadow Realm.

“Why does the air taste like sadness?” Morgan asked one morning, sipping chocolate milk while a spectral hand clawed its way out of the floor behind her.

Danny shot it with a laser without looking. “That’s just the trauma, kid.”

She nodded like that made sense.

By Day Five, things got weirder.

Bruce Banner came over to “assess the babysitter.” What he found was a 19-year-old ghost hybrid making chicken nuggets with one hand while performing an exorcism on a sentient blender with the other. Bruce blinked. “You’re multitasking.”

Danny, dead-eyed and covered in slime: “You’re not my real dad.”

Bruce left after Morgan bit him.

Then Peter Parker dropped by. He took one look at Danny—haggard, twitching, wearing a tiara—and whispered, “Oh my god, he is a hot mess.”

“Shut up,” Danny snapped, using his foot to hold down a haunted Roomba. “Help me tie up the possessed dolls.”

Peter did not help. He just filmed everything for TikTok. The video went viral under the title “Me when I leave a random ghost fairy babysitter with Tony Stark’s child and come back to find him summoning the underworld during snack time.”

Nick Fury saw the video and sent a S.W.O.R.D. strike team to investigate.

Morgan beat them with a plastic lightsaber.

On Day Seven, Danny woke up to find Morgan riding a flying toaster around the living room like it was a dragon.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?”

“I summoned it,” she said proudly.

“HOW.”

“I made a deal with your ghost friends.”

Danny’s left eye twitched so hard he saw the Ghost Zone.

Pepper walked in on him mid-breakdown. “You’ve been great with her,” she said, sipping her coffee. “We haven’t seen her this happy since… well, ever.”

Danny, clinging to the ceiling like a feral raccoon, wheezed, “I think she opened a portal to the Necroplane. There’s a demon named Craig living in the fridge.”

Pepper patted his arm. “All babysitters say that.”

Craig opened the fridge and waved. “Sup.”

By Week Two, Danny had stopped pretending to be normal. He phased through walls, levitated toys, vaporized anything that smelled like danger, and occasionally screamed “I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE HAVING A MID-LIFE CRISIS” into the void.

Tony finally came home. He blinked at the scene: Danny napping upside down like a bat while Morgan built a nuclear reactor out of old toaster parts and a Roomba named Kevin.

“Who the hell is that?” Tony asked.

Morgan didn’t even look up. “My fairy godbrother. He banished an evil frog ghost and helped me build an orbital laser.”

Tony stared. “Huh. Alright.”

And just like that, Danny Fenton became part of the Avengers.

He didn’t sign anything. He didn’t train. He didn’t even get a uniform. But every time something exploded or a portal opened or some ancient deity said “BEHOLD MY TRUE FORM,” Danny just floated into the air, cracked his back like an old man, and said, “Not in front of the child, you drama bitch.”

Morgan, from her juice box throne: “YEET HIM INTO THE VOID, DANNY.”

And he did.

It only got worse when the other Avengers got involved.

Natasha tried to teach Morgan how to do spy stuff. Morgan used the techniques to sneak into Tony’s wine cellar and replace the labels with glitter glue and threats.

Thor visited once. Morgan asked if she could ride his hammer. He said no. She cried. The hammer floated toward her on its own. Danny had to wrestle it away.

Clint brought over a bow and arrow set. Morgan hit Peter in the ass with a suction cup dart. Danny laughed so hard he choked on ectoplasm.

Wanda stared at Danny for a full ten minutes before whispering, “You’re not from this plane.”

Danny, deadpan: “Neither is your eyeliner.”

They became friends.

One night, Danny woke up to find Morgan drawing summoning circles on the walls in glitter glue.

“Whatcha doing, champ?”

“Trying to summon a unicorn for Auntie Yelena.”

Danny blinked. “Go back to bed.”

She glared. “You don’t support women in STEM.”

By Month One, SHIELD had officially labeled Danny as a “Class 7 Unexplainable Being with Babysitting Potential.” He had a badge. He had clearance. He had no idea what was happening anymore.

All he knew was that if Morgan Stark said “Danny, I wanna adopt a ghost puppy,” then by God, he was going to march into the Ghost Zone and wrestle a spectral hellhound into a leash.

And he did.

Its name is Toast.

Danny Fenton—ghost boy, half-dead teenager, babysitter of the year—accidentally became the most powerful figure in the universe. Not because of his powers. Not because of his knowledge. Not even because of his tragic backstory.

But because Morgan Stark liked him. And if you hurt Morgan Stark, you would be introduced to Craig, the fridge demon, and Kevin, the haunted Roomba, and Toast, the ghost puppy, and then, finally, the very angry, very tired, very over-it Danny Phantom who could—and would—yeet you into another dimension for interrupting nap time.

The Avengers knew better than to interfere.

Even Thanos came back to life once, took one look at Danny and Morgan, and said, “No thanks.”

He snapped himself back out of existence.

Danny didn’t even flinch.

Morgan dabbed.

And somewhere, in the vast multiverse of chaos and consequence, Tony Stark looked at his daughter, his haunted apartment, his glowing ghost babysitter eating fruit snacks while levitating a possessed microwave, and muttered to himself—

“Yeah. That tracks.”