#fierce babysitter

[skyloftian-nutcase]

It was supposed to have been a relaxing family trip. Zelda had promised a place for them to stay in Castle Town, and they would have had the opportunity to just see the city and not worry about selling anything or doing knightly duties.

Malon should have known better. As much as Link preferred his domestic life, adventure always seemed to find him… and he was all too eager to answer the call.

She didn’t mind going on an adventure with him, honestly. She’d kind of always wanted to. What she hadn’t wanted, though, was to drag their daughter into it as well.

Their journey to Castle Town had been interrupted by beasts, rerouting them towards the forest to the south, near Lake Hylia. It was adjacent to the Lost Woods, and Link claimed it was mostly safe - at the very least it was safer than being exposed in Hyrule Field. He hadn’t wanted to engage out in the open with Malon and Navi so vulnerable, so this had been the next best thing.

The only issue was that Link was injured. And ill on top of it - he’d been coming down with something but had insisted on the family still going to Castle Town, outwitting Malon’s arguments by saying Well this is a vacation, darling, it’ll be restful!

Sighing, Malon leaned against a tree, her daughter nestled safely in her arms. Restful was not the word she’d use for this.

“We outran them,” Link noted as he watched behind them, pacing. With each step he took he faltered, steadily developing a limp.

“Honey, you can’t fight like this,” Malon said worriedly. “We should just stay here until they go away.”

“They might try to look for us,” Link argued. “Besides, the woods aren’t the safest either. It’s just that nothing’s going to go out of its way to attack us. But we can’t stay here.”

“You’re hurt,” Malon reiterated, pointing to the blood on his leg. She’d already wrapped the wound, insisting on taking care of it as soon as possible, but that didn’t mean it was all better now. She really wished they’d packed some milk - of all the times for them to be lacking their own product!

Link sighed heavily, sitting on the forest floor. His brow was furrowed deeply, holding that scowl he used to when worries plagued his mind. Malon reached over to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but to be honest she wasn’t much less anxious. This entire situation was a disaster, and she was frankly starting to get scared.

Link watched her a moment and then looked down. He was definitely deliberating something specific now, based on the way his eyes moved back and forth, one argument clashing with another in some kind of internal debate.

“What is it?” Malon asked.

“Nothing,” Link answered, shaking his head. “Can you do me a favor?”

Malon perked up in an instant, eager to help. “Of course, darling.”

“Can you help me get this boot off?”

Malon glanced at his injured leg and nodded. First, she looped a sling around her to let Navi rest while freeing her arms up. As she bent down to gingerly assist Link, suspicion tickled at the back of her brain. Link rarely asked for help - the man triaged himself by situation, not injury. Out in the field he would write off a broken bone as an inconvenience, but in the safety of their home a cold was the deadliest disease on earth.

But this situation wasn’t safe. Why was he suddenly so compliant? What was he up to?

Malon was about to ask as she reached for the boot, when a bright light flashed, warmth filled the air, and Link jerked with a muffled yell. Malon gasped, rising to her feet and grabbing the nearest stick as a weapon, eyes wide as she looked for whatever had hurt her husband, when—

When two glowing eyes looked back at her.

Malon stared. And then it clicked. “What are you doing out here?! Why, that idiotic husband of mine, take that off right now and I’ll punch him myself—“

The Fierce Deity hastily stood, taking three steps back as Malon charged at him. “This wasn’t of my volition.”

“You both know that mask hurts him, why is he putting it on when he’s sick and injured already—“

Navi burst into tears, upset by the racket. Malon paused from her tirade only due to such desperate circumstances, shushing her daughter and rocking her gently while glaring daggers at the deity.

“Perhaps he didn’t think he could protect you in his current state,” Fierce offered.

“That’s ridiculous!” Malon denied even as her mind screamed in agreement with Fierce. She herself had just been saying it.

But—but—oh, that husband of hers! He was getting the lecture of his life when he took that mask off!

A twig nearby snapped, and the deity had his blade out in an instant. Malon tried to calm Navi, who was still greatly perturbed, and she let the mythical being take the lead. He quickly rooted out the source of the noise. Malon had to admit she certainly felt safe watching the demigod dispatch the beasts with so much ease it might as well have been a joke.

When the danger had passed, she quietly asked, “Can you even feel the injury he had?”

The Fierce Deity glanced at her, and he tested the affected extremity. “A little, yes. I know he hurt it.”

“Things just… don’t hurt you, do they?” Malon huffed, marveling a little at it. Perhaps that was why Link had chosen to let him take over - nothing could slow him down.

The deity blinked, head tilting down as if he were considering it. “They do.”

He didn’t elaborate, and somehow that made the words all the heavier. Malon watched him a moment in silence, Navi finally calm in her arms. Then she sighed, finding a fallen tree to sit on, and she pat the space beside her invitingly. As she waited for the deity to approach, she started humming Epona’s song while rocking Navi back and forth.

Fierce slowly made his way over to her, sitting with such care it was as if he was approaching a frightened animal. Malon didn’t think too much into it - she knew his focus was on her daughter. She continued to sway gently, beaming down at her baby girl. Navi was calm, resting once more. Not for the first time, Malon had to marvel at the little one. She was perfect and beautiful.

And now she was safe.

Sighing, Malon said quietly. “Thank you.”

Fierce smiled softly. “Protection is my sworn duty. But more than duty, it is always a pleasure to protect Link’s family.”

Malon mirrored his smile, resuming her humming for a little while. Eventually, the deity commented, “She’s gotten bigger since you showed her to me.”

“That was six months ago,” Malon giggled. “Of course she’s gotten bigger.”

“I… do not know how quickly mortals grow,” Fierce noted a little uncertainly. “I've ascertained that the little Hero's journey wasn't exactly traditional. How long will she be this helpless?”

“Don’t you worry about her,” Malon chided gently with a chuckle. She knew that concerned tone and expression anywhere - it was still her husband’s face, even if the mask’s magic distorted it to share the deity's spirit. The two worried all the same. It was honestly kind of cute. “Link and I can take care of her.”

The deity continued to watch her daughter, face softening.

“Now don’t you tell me you don’t think we’re up to the task,” Malon teased, elbowing him.

He straightened a little, a smile pulling at his lips. “I remember little of my time before this mask, but I do recall that a mother’s love and protection is far fiercer than I could ever be.”

Malon felt a swell of pride in her chest, and she giggled. “Aw honey, look at you buttering me up. That won’t save you.”

Fierce blinked. “From what?”

“From eating,” Malon insisted, pulling out some biscuits that had been wrapped up for the journey. “Link needs it, and you don’t get to eat that much. My daddy always said my cookin’ was fit for a god, so I guess it’s time to test that.”

She actually managed to pull a laugh out of Fierce with that one, and it filled the air with mirth and magic. Malon felt like she'd just accomplished some grand quest like Link did on his journeys, and she laughed with him. Fierce eventually took the biscuits, sniffing them hesitantly.

Malon raised an eyebrow at him, but the gesture was lost upon the mysterious being. He took a laughably small bite, testing it, and then sighed, closing his eyes.

"You alright?" Malon asked quietly, trying to parse out the gesture. In most it would be a sign of appreciation, but Fierce's mannerisms didn't always match the norm.

"Six months," the deity said quietly before taking another bite. "It's such a short time."

"It certainly has flown by," Malon muttered, looking down at her baby. Navi had grown so much. She wanted nothing more than for time to stop. It was pretty ironic considering who she was married to. But his magic over time, as fantastical as it was, would be a curse in this situation. No, Malon didn't want to live the same days over and over as she herself grew old. She just wanted to cherish the time she had as much as possible.

Some days she did wish she could slow it down, though.

She kissed her daughter's soft head, taking in the scent of her skin, so new and unblemished, naïve to the worries lines her parents bore. Navi was her entire world, and she couldn't imagine it any other way.

"I suppose mortals do grow up quite quickly."

Malon nuzzled her baby girl a little more before looking up at the deity. He seemed very sad and alone all of a sudden, biscuit forgotten in his hand as it rested on his lap.

"Oh honey," she cooed gently, shifting closer to him. "All that means is we treasure what we do have."

Fierce watched her, his brow heavy over his eyes, a weight pushing on his shoulders. Malon tried reading into it, trying to figure out what was leaving the sweet mysterious man so perturbed. She supposed it was fairly obvious, though.

He would outlive them all. They both knew it. But that didn't mean—

Oh.

He didn't think he would have a chance to treasure such moments. How could he? He was locked away in a mask, only touching reality when worn. And Link had no reason to wear it.

Well, that just wouldn't do. They had to figure something out. Malon didn't wish the pain of that mask on her husband, but she didn't wish the loneliness of its imprisonment on Fierce.

"We have right now," she reasoned, trying to give him the most sincere smile she could. "Come on, love. Take your armor off and relax. As long as you're eating and resting, I reckon it'll be okay for a little bit, at least."

"You three were going somewhere," Fierce noted. "I should clear the road and escort you there safely."

"Maybe so," Malon replied. "But you're going to finish eating first."

He complied, finishing the biscuit before being handed another. After having several snacks from the provisions the family had packed, Malon and Fierce rose together. His gaze seemed to settle on Navi, and Malon held her out carefully, nodding in encouragement to the tall being.

Gently, oh so gently, Fierce took the baby in his arms. Instinctively, he swayed on his feet, eyes never leaving her face. Malon's heart warmed at the sight of it.

“Sometimes, I just wonder,” Malon remarked as she watched him. “You’re so… compassionate, and kind. They claim you're a war god, but you're really not. You love children so much. Surely… I think you might’ve had some, you know? Back then and all.”

Fierce watched her in silence before he tilted his head to the side with a smile, returning Navi to her mother. “I do have children.”

Malon jumped, surprised. “You do?”

“Yes,” the deity hummed quietly, a deep, rumbling sound that was nearly akin to purring. “And I’m very proud of both you.”

The words settled over her a moment before sinking in, and she knew she had to look like a deer caught in lantern light. The deity’s smile grew, almost as if teasing, but she knew he was being genuine. And she… felt almost at a loss for words by it. Her throat tightened a hair before she laughed, stepping towards him and pulling him into a hug. “Oh, you. You’re just as bad as Link.”

The Fierce Deity stood there stiffly a moment, clearly caught off guard by the contact, but slowly, he settled into the embrace. His hands were warm on Malon’s back as he pulled her closer, careful not to hurt Navi between them. His breath warmed her hair at the top of her head, and Malon nuzzled against his chest a little.

Silence hung amicably in the air, a pleasant comfort and warmth like a hearth ablaze with a cheery fire. Slowly, fairies came out of hiding, dancing and twinkling in the shadows and bringing a glow to the forest like the pink hues of a sunrise.

The supposed god of war knew peace, and Malon held this moment in her heart forevermore.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 322

Danny squints up at the slightly older realms being, even if technically he’s older in human-age. The Chaosling is practically vibrating in place, the massive realms feline peering out from over their shoulder. Huh. So this is his Clockwork-assigned babysitter-cousin? 

He didn’t know how to feel about the whole suit thing, but well, he won’t say no to a good prank. C’mon Cujo, they’re going to the daycare dimension-place!

[queenie-ofthe-void]

The Babysitter Chronicles - Byers

Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 3.9k || cws: check tags || full fic ao3

Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper

Can be read as a standalone

~~~

Steve’s filled with dread, standing in front of the Byers’ front door at 6:30am on a Saturday morning. Out of all the kids’ parents, he’s pushed Joyce off as long as he could manage. But he’d promised Mike he’d try, and according to Jonathan, this is the best time to catch her.

That doesn’t change the fact it’s not even light out, and a boy she probably hates is about to knock on her door. Hell of a way to start the day.

He knocks anyway.

Joyce opens the door in a soft grey t-shirt and baggy black sweats. Her hair is brushed through, mascara coats her long lashes, and the smell of fresh coffee wafts through the open door. At least he can find small consolation in the fact she’s been up for a while.

“Hi Joyce, I mean Ms. Byers,” he stumbles, off to a great start. “Sorry to catch you so early but–” 

“No,” Joyce interrupts, voice firm. 

Steve stands there, mouth hanging open around an unfinished sentence. He watches as her eyes harden. She squares her shoulders and stands straight-backed and tall, only reaching about Steve’s shoulder. Joyce Byers in all her fury still makes him feel small, like maybe this was a bad idea.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Joyce says. “But I know why you’re here. And the answer is no.”

“Oh,” he responds lamely, deflating even further. 

Her voice is soft, but she’s unyielding. “The kids like you, and I know their parents are ok with you watching them. Which is fine, for their kids.”

She pauses, and Steve knows what’s coming. Mentally prepared himself for the worst-case scenario. All of Dustin’s logical arguments and Lucas’ hype talks couldn’t prepare him for how thoroughly Joyce flays him open.

“But, Steve, I would never trust you with my kids.”

Even though he's desperate to run, he plants himself like a tree on her front stoop. He's trying not to be that guy. The kids deserve the best version of him, and on some level, he knows cutting out the bad parts of himself includes letting Joyce Byers drag him through the mud.

He tries to hold her gaze, really he does. Her dark eyes are filled with conviction, but he can see the gentleness to them as well. Almost sad, like he’s making her do this to him. 

Joyce grips the door, knuckles white with tension. She takes a step out onto the front stoop, forcing Steve to take a measured step back. The door stays cracked and the smell of burning toast reaches his nose. Nausea rises in his throat.

“They shouldn’t have even been in those tunnels in the first place,” she says, voice growing louder as she gains momentum. “We asked you to watch them, we trusted you with them, and they still almost got killed! And I know, I know, you helped Jonathan and Nancy last year– saved them from that, that thing crawling out of our walls.”

Her eyes flicker over her shoulder, like the demogorgon’s still haunting her house. He follows her gaze, like Billy could still be standing in her living room with a blood-stained, toothy smile.

She sighs, exasperated. At her wits end for being pushed into a conversation she’s probably been dreading for weeks, since it seems she knew what he wanted. “But you’d be with my baby, my Will, everyday. He’s had bullies since kindergarten, and it’s only gotten worse since everything.

“He doesn’t deserve more bullies. And from what I’ve heard, you’re no different. Just like your father.”

Steve flinches– can’t help himself– the sentence ringing through his head.

Just like your father.

“No, no I’m not, I swear,” he chokes on the words as she steam rolls his pathetic lamentations.

“You’ve pushed my boys– and kids just like them– around your whole life, making them feel small for having less money, less friends, less stuff. Every time Jonathan came home with a new bruise or bloodied knees, how do I know that wasn’t you?”

Steve’s watering eyes are fixated on the small, furious woman before him, flushed with a rage familiar to any decent mother protecting her kids. He’s trying so hard to hear her, but his head is filled with static and his mouth feels stuffed with cotton. Steve wipes his hands down the front of his pants, then shoves them in his pockets.

“You called my boy queer! Something I’m sure you heard from your father. I saved for months to get him that camera for his birthday and you just smashed it, like it was nothing. Like we’re nothing.”

Neither of them notice the pair of shadows moving beyond the door frame in the living room. 

“I cannot allow someone like you around my boys,” she hammers home. This is what Nance meant by a thesis statement he thinks deliriously. “Sue and Karen might be alright with it, but my answer is no.”

Steve sniffles and nods stiffly as turns to leave, hoping to at least make it to his car before the tears start. He knows he deserves what she’s said, knows the truth of it in his gut, but he’s stood here long enough. Now it’s time to run and hide, like his mind’s been screaming to since she set her sights on him.

“Mom,” Jonathan says, out of breath like he ran here from his bedroom. He’s appeared over Ms. Byers’ shoulder like a ghost, or a ninja– silent and on the attack. “What’s going on?”

He’s a sleep-rumpled version of his mom, wearing a plain, soft t-shirt, and grey sweatpants scattered with light bleach stains. Steve notices he still has pillow creases on his left cheek. His gaze follows the red indent down to Jonathan’s jawline where a small, purpling bruise is haloed by faded red lipstick.

All of the air in Steve’s lungs is punched out of him, hard and fast. A feeling he should be used to from Jonathan Byers. 

Steve thinks he sees a flash of pastels in his periphery, dashing through the trees to the road. Or maybe it’s his imagination. It doesn’t matter, because he can’t look away from the uncomfortably familiar mark on Jonathan’s neck.

Jonathan must notice. His hand flies up to his neck, wiping the mark and finding a smear of red on his fingers. The spell holding Steve breaks, and he can breathe again. 

Their eyes meet, and Jonathan’s cheeks now match the stain on his fingers. It’s awkward and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it or how to make this easier. Because Steve never knows how to fix things, only how to break them. Something Joyce seems well aware of.

Distracted, Steve’s just now noticing the small shadow creeping up behind Jonathan. He sees the young boy poke his head out from behind his brother’s back as he takes a small step towards the commotion.

“Steve was just leaving, sweetie,” Joyce answers, voice soft and sweet as she turns away from him to go back inside.

“Wait, no that’s not what I meant,” Jonathan continues. He shakes his head and roughly pushes his unruly bangs from his eyes. “Steve, why are you here?”

Jonathan’s looking at him like he knows the answer. And he should really, considering the only reason Mike agreed to have Steve as his babysitter was because Jonathan promised he’d talk to Will about it, and then they’d talk to Joyce. 

A long train of telephone Steve was relying on to get a head start at Joyce’s good will. Which, apparently, never happened.

Steve plays along into Jonathan’s prompting. She’s already said no, so what’s one more try with a little back-up.

“I was asking if I could babysit Will, since I watch the rest of the gang too. Can’t leave any party members behind,” Steve says, parroting Dustin.

“And I was just telling him–” Joyce starts, before she’s interrupted.

“I think Steve would be a great babysitter,” Will says. His hair’s a mess, and he’s straightening out his matching Star Wars pajama set as he steps further into view.

Joyce rushes over to him, squatting down to meet his eyes. “Will, honey, you don’t need a new babysitter. You can still spend time with your friends at their houses, when their parents are home.” Jonathan takes the distraction to wave Steve into the house, silently closing the door behind them.

“But the other parents don’t know about– you know,” Will hesitates, before mustering up the courage to say “about what actually happened to me.”

“Baby,” she says, gently running her hands up and down his small arms. “You know we can’t tell them. We went over this.”

“It’s not about them knowing the truth,” Will says. Steve watches as the boy tries to make himself bigger, taller, even with the slight shake in his voice. “They just look at me like I’m broken. They’re sad when I’m around and they just think I was kidnapped or lost or– whatever the story is. That I was sick or something.”

Steve can’t help but imagine Will Byers, always the shy, quiet kid in the Party, having to constantly withstand the severely misguided pitying glances from adults who aren’t read-in on vast government conspiracies and alternate dimensions. Steve’s almost nineteen and can barely manage alone.

Her brows are knitted tight and her lips downturned the more Will confesses. “Well, Jonathan can–”

“I don’t want Jonathan to watch me anymore.”

Joyce’s eyes widen, confusion painted across her face as her mouth drops open. Steve turns to glance at Jonathan to find that, unlike his mother, he’s not surprised at all. In fact, there’s a light shining in his eyes and a small uptick to the corner of his mouth.

The tension is thick but familial, leaving Steve unwelcome and gawking at a private conversation. Which he supposes he is: both unwelcome and gawking.

“Go on, Will, it’s ok,” Jonathan encourages. He shines with a proud smile, like he’s watching his little brother walk for the first time. 

Will’s hesitant, his eyes downcast as he shuffles side-to-side. Waiting for him to continue, Joyce stays quiet. Steve can’t help but feel envious of Will and Jonathan at having a mom patient enough to hear her son outright, even when she doesn’t agree with him. She saved him from an alternate dimension, but sometimes the little things are just as important.

“When Jonathan dropped me off at Steve’s for DnD last week, it was fine… at first.”

“You both told me that was at Mike’s,” Joyce interrupts, turning a motherly glare at Jonathan who sheepishly avoids eye contact. She rounds on Steve again, closing the distance between them in three long strides to get in his face. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Steve. What if something had happened and I didn’t know where to find him because of you?”

“Mom,” Jonathan interrupts, irritated. “That’s not fair. We are the ones who said it was at Mike’s– Will and I. I knew you wouldn’t let him go if you knew it was at Harrington’s place, so I told Will to lie.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t have let him go,” Joyce argues, turning back to Jonathan. “He’s not safe there! I know Steve Harrington and I know his parents. What if they had been home?”

“They haven’t been home in weeks,” Steve mumbles. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, catching himself off guard. Years of practicing the lie, and he slips in front of the last three people on earth he’d want to know about his home life. He’d never complain, not to them. 

She shoots him a confused glance, an emotion behind her eyes Steve refuses to consider. But it seems she’s the only one whose noticed he said anything at all as Jonathan speaks up again. Shaking her head, she shifts her attention back to her son. In the midst of the chaos, Steve breathes a small sigh of relief.

“Mom, it was fine– everything was fine. Just–” Jonathan stops. He gestures to Will to keep going.

Will puffs his chest up, holding his mom’s gaze as he barrels on. “I liked having it at Steve’s. It smells nice, like candles, not like farts and laundry detergent like Mike’s basement. He had all the snacks we like, and he’s got a huge table that can fit all our stuff.”

The kid’s smiling now, and goddamn if it doesn’t melt his heart. Steve’ll be disappointed if Joyce says no, but at least he knows for a fact Will felt comfortable around Steve and liked being at his house.

“But after Jonathan picked me up, Lucas said they stayed up and watched movies all night. That Steve even made an ice cream sundae bar and there were a million toppings.” Will’s arguing is starting to sound like a petulant child, a slight whine to his tone, and Steve can tell Joyce is losing her patience.

“Will, that’s something you and Jonathan can do. We’d love to do sleepover nights with your friends.”

“No, Mom,” Jonathan states, strong in a way Steve’s never seen from him before. His only tell is the waver behind his voice. Steve’s willing to bet Jonathan would rather face down another demogorgon than take on his own mother. Yet here he is, sticking his neck on the line for Will.

“What do you mean, no?” It’s barely a question.

“I don’t want to babysit Will anymore.” He quickly closes his eyes and shakes his head, like an etch-a-sketch. “No, wait– I’m not babysitting Will anymore.”

The room falls deadly silent. Joyce’s lips flatten into a thin, white line, matching the color of her knuckles. She looks ready to explode, like how his father used to look before the first blow. 

Steve flinches when she takes a step towards Jonathan, and she clocks his reaction just like before, but ignores him to glare at her oldest son.

“I want to spend more time with Nancy.” Jonathan’s eyes are wide, like he forgot Steve was there, and he can see an embarrassed flush painting his ears. Steve just shrugs. It is what it is, he’ll get over it like he always does. Jonathan relaxes a bit. “I want to get a job so I can take her on dates that are more than just driving out to the quarry.” 

“Jonathan,” Joyce jumps in, “you can’t get a job. You’re grades are slipping as it is and you don’t have time–”

“Exactly! I don’t have time for a job right now. But if Steve starts watching Will after school and some weekends, I can get a job and keep my grades up and spend time with Nancy.”

She’s shaking her head, but Jonathan plows on before she can jump back into the fray.

“Billy Hargrove is a goddamn monster, Mom. He almost killed Steve! And we all know the kids would’ve found a way to get to the tunnels no matter what. Steve was beat to hell and still went with them.” Jonathan points at Steve’s face in emphasis, like a fucked up version of a pretty model showboating a new car. Except the model is the guy who stole his girlfriend, and the car is a has-been with a fucked up brain and no future.

“And last year,” Jonathan continues, “Nancy and I would be dead if he didn’t come back for us. After everything that happened between us, he had no reason to turn around. Hell, I’m not sure I would’ve.”

He doesn’t know Jonathan Byers well, but Steve knows for a fact Jonathan would’ve faced death to save him– to save anyone. It’s not even a question.

Joyce still doesn’t seem convinced. “Everything that happened last year is exactly what I’m worried about, Jonathan.”

“It’s my fault, not his!” Jonathan shouts. “It’s my fault he got sucked into this mess, it’s my fault Nancy left him, and it’s my fault he broke the camera!” Color drains from his face. Steve freezes, staring at him. 

Steve still hasn’t told anyone why he broke the camera– none of them have talked about it, and he never planned to bring it up. Ultimately he’s thankful that the pictures exist, since it provided the only clue to Barb’s death and the Upside-Down. 

But he doesn’t understand why Jonathan took the pictures. And it doesn’t change the fact Steve closes his blinds every night.

“What do you mean, your fault?” Joyce asks, out of sorts. 

He stammers a bit, looking to Steve for help. Steve doesn’t want to have this conversation at all, let alone in front of Jonathan’s entire family. He glares back at Jonathan, tersely shaking his head once.

Lie.

He gets the gist, relief stark on Jonathan’s face. 

“Steve caught Nancy and I sneaking around when we were looking for Barb and Will,” Jonathan quickly recovers. “We didn’t want him poking around, so we let him think we were flirting. But some pictures I had taken of Nancy fell out of my bag, and Steve saw them. That’s why he broke my camera.

“We ran into him and his friends later while they were spraying up The Hawk. I didn’t know it was all Tommy Hagen’s idea, so I got in Steve’s face and I hit him first. He called me queer, and that’s shitty. But he apologized, saved our lives, and bought me a new camera. So–”

Jonathan turns to him and holds out his hand. It reminds Steve of his father, but also of Hopper, which he decides is a more apt comparison.

He reaches out and Jonathan grasps his hand firmly, shaking it up and down just once, yet continues to hold on. Forging a new pact for the future.

“Steve, I’m sorry about everything.” He seems genuine– eyes wet, shoulders set, and back straight. Steve tries to match his posture. He might not be as good with words as Jonathan, but he can at least show this moment is just as important to him. “But you helped protect the kids so we could save Will. And you saved Nancy and me. So– I trust you.”

Steve can’t handle this. It’s too early in the morning for heavy emotions and deep confessions, but Jonathan’s searching for forgiveness in the face of a former bully. Steve steps up to the plate and meets him halfway.

“I shouldn’t have broken your camera, I know how expensive they are and how much it meant to you. I was angry and I wasn’t thinking. And I, I umm–” 

Steve realizes he’s never really had to apologize to someone before. Sure he’s apologized to Nancy, but it seemed like a normal thing for guys to always apologize to their girlfriends. He’s apologized to Dustin, but that’s more like placating a rowdy toddler. 

This feels different, somehow bigger. Maybe it’s because Jonathan’s his own age, or someone his parents have programmed him to think is lesser than himself. Maybe it’s the deep regret that’s made itself a home in Steve’s stomach, rotting away at the memory of a vicious word spat haphazardly at a stranger.

“I’m sorry I called you queer. That’s fuc– I mean messed– up, and I’m sorry.” Steve sighs, running a nervous hand through his hair, less painful with the stitches removed. He almost misses the stinging sensation. “It’s something my dad says all the time and it was the first thing I thought of, and I hate that. I’m not my dad, I never want to be like him.”

Jonathan nods and pulls Steve forward into a hug, and when they separate Steve feels lighter. A heavy weight he hadn’t known about, removed from his shoulders with Jonathan’s help. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Jonathan felt the same way by the smile on his face.

“Yeah!” Will shouts, unprompted and overly excited for the tone of this entire conversation. There’s a wide grin on his face when he holds up his hand to high-five Steve and cheers “welcome to the Bad Dads Club!”

Steve scoffs, shocked but completely delighted and confused at Will’s eager declaration. Joyce smacks her hand to her forehead and mutters something like jesus christ under her breath, while Jonathan barks out a laugh. 

He grabs his little brother by the shoulder and shakes him like a rag doll until Will breaks out into giggles. “Will,” Jonathan says, failing to keep a straight face, “remember when I explained the difference between family jokes and not-family jokes?”

Will’s smile fades slightly, red embarrassment splashing his cheeks as he quickly glances between Jonathan and Steve, realizing his social blunder. Jonathan squeezes his shoulder and gives him a sad, reassuring smile. But Steve won’t be the reason for the small frown tugging on Will’s lower lip.

Steve holds out his hand, palm up. He smiles at the kid, eyes alight with mischief. “Bad Dad’s Club,” Steve says, like it’s more than just a fucked up childhood and is instead forging a pact, binding them through one shitty commonality. 

Will returns his smile and high fives him, who then turns to his brother. Jonathan laughs again when he pulls Will in for a hug instead, shrugging at Steve.

Joyce’s gaze travels between the three boys standing in front of her, and Steve can see the moment she cracks.

Her stance has softened. Her lips are still pursed, her eyebrows only slightly furrowed, but her arms hang relaxed at her sides and she’s looking at Steve less like she wants to throw him out and more like she doesn’t know what to do with him.

“You get one week,” Joyce says sternly, pointing a finger in Steve’s face. He goes cross-eyed looking at it, but he can still see Will and Jonathan high-five. “One week of picking him up after school. I get done at Melvald’s at six, so you can bring him home at six-thirty.”

Before Steve can wholeheartedly agree, she rounds on Will and Jonathan next, who stand at attention, trying to stay serious through their own excitement. 

“You,” she points at Jonathan, “better keep your grades up if you’re getting a job.”

“And you,” she gestures to Will, “better have all of your homework done when you get home. If you can’t get it done at Steve’s house, then you don’t get to go.”

She backs away from them, taking a deep breath in and exhaling loudly. “Is all of that clear?”

Waves of yes’s pour from their mouths. Will wraps his arms around his mom’s waist and Jonathan lightly punches Steve’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, Ms. Byers,” Steve says as he turns to leave, “I’ll make sure you don’t regret this. Any of you.”

She sighs, a small sad smile on her face. “I really hope that’s true, Steve.”

On the drive home, he realizes she never mentioned the slip-up about his parents’ absence. He’s grateful for it. Talking with adults has never been his strong suit, and his conversations with each of the kids’ parents are starting to weigh on him. 

The Byers’ might not have as much money or means as the Harrington’s, but that doesn’t stop Joyce Byers from being a damn great mom. So he’s not surprised she took note of his own small mishaps. Maybe she’ll bring it up one day, maybe she won’t. All Steve cares about is that he finally has the opportunity to earn the trust of the fiercest parent he knows.

~~~

[simpsonssimp]

He’s kinda, maybe, definitely all I want to draw

right now 🖋✨

[tournettes]

their communication in high valyrian is so cute, and aw their daughter! i have an urge to kiss and squish her cheek because she's so chaotic yet so adorable.

and i can clearly imagine her sometime in the future to announce her mother's pregnancy with joy, laugh and mostly screaming with happiness around the red keep because she would have a sibling. i bet she can be a lovely sister for her sibling.

Of Flowers & Dragons

Summary: Your daughter wants a sibling and makes it everyone’s problem.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dad Aemond. “Where do babies come from?” shenanigans.

Word count: 1k

“I want a sibling!”

The high-pitched voice echoed across the room, quickly followed by a shriek that reverberated through your head like a dagger, jolting you awake at once.

You peered down through hazy eyes at your daughter of six who was stomping angrily across the carpeted floor, strands of silver hair shooting from her head in all sorts of weird and messy angles.

“I apologise, my lady,” the young servant breathed out, rushing behind the young child. “She would not heed my words.”

“It’s quite alright,” you said with a nod. “You may leave.”

She was a dragon through and through: hot tempered and demanding.

It had taken her father long years to keep that explosiveness at bay and you reckoned you would still encounter many of these outbursts before she’d finally settle.

She halted by the feet of your bed, mustering the most menacing expression, violet eyes alternating between you and her sleeping father.

“Jaelan ziry sir, kepa!”

Even in your broken High Valyrian you could make out a demand aimed at her father.

She didn’t just want a sibling. She wanted it now.

The bedsheets shifting beside you alerted you that Aemond Targaryen was finally awake.

“Do not scream,” you scolded before a yawn slipped past your lips. “Come here.”

Your daughter didn’t need to be told twice as she promptly climbed up the bed and crawled in between the two of you before plopping herself down with a huff.

Aemond rolled to his side with the groan of someone who had just been robbed of the peace and quiet that usually came with early mornings.

“Could this not have waited, tala?” he said.

“Daor,” she shook her head, sticking out her bottom lip in a defiant pout, crossing both arms. “I want a sibling now.”

Aemond turned his head to face her, his sapphire eye uncovered. “It would have to wait.”

She brought both hands to his long hair and twisted a few strands into unruly braids, not able to conceal her frustration.

“A day?”

You nearly chuckled at her remark. “A day? It would take many moons, my love.”

“But kepa said I came from Old Valyria… on dragonback…” she whispered, turning her eyes to meet yours. “Dragons are fast… maybe two days?” she beamed, hope coating her sweet voice.

You sighed heavily. “Aemond…”

“She caught me off guard, lady wife,” he said truthfully while gazing at his daughter. “What was I to say?”

“Now you have the opportunity to resolve this,” you smiled teasingly as his eye widened.

“What is it?” she spoke up before Aemond could. “When do I get a new sibling, kepa?”

Aemond was a master at concealing his emotions, but even in that moment, his composure faltered, as he realised his young and stubborn daughter would not back down.

Heaving a deep sigh, he detached her tiny hands from his hair and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him in a heartwarming display of affection.

“Remember those flowers you adore so much, byka zaldrīzes?” he lowered his voice as he spoke into her hear. “The one that uncle Daeron brought from Oldtown?”

Your heart fluttered in delight. Aemond calling her little dragon would never not make you emotional. Witnessing the young prince embracing the bond with his daughter was a privilege few could claim.

Her lilac eyes narrowed as she pondered for a moment. “Hmm. Yes! Moonbloom,” she nodded with a proud smile.

“Moonbloom, yes,” Aemond said, bringing one finger to brush away strands of silver hair that covered her face. “He brought a few seeds that we later placed in several vases.”

She nodded eagerly, eyes never tearing away from him.

“And what happened to those seeds?”

She wiggled her legs in anticipation, visibly enjoying the enticing questions from her father that read as a game just between the two of them.

“We got a few tiny plants!” she beamed, giggling and jerking her body as Aemond tickled her.

“And then…”

She froze in place, gasping dramatically. “… then… we got flowers!”

Aemond chuckled. “Sȳrje. Very well,” he praised as he planted a soft kiss to her forehead. “That is how you came to be.”

Scrunching her nose, she narrowed her inquisitive eyes. “I came from a… vase of flowers?”

You were a mere spectator, enjoying how Aemond handled such delicate matter, not able to hold back the wide grin on your face.

“Daor. I planted a seed inside your mother,” he said as he brought his hand to your stomach. “Here.”

Your daughter turned her head, eyes landing where his hand lay. “How did I get there?”

Aemond cleared his throat, staring at you in a silent plea.

“You are handling this perfectly, lord husband,” you said, placing your fingers atop his with a smile.

“So mother is a vase of flowers?” she inquired, confusion washing over her face.

Aemond’s lips curled into a soft smile. “You could say so.”

Her eyes widened incredulously as she brought her own tiny hand to your belly in sheer fascination.

“I’m a flower?”

The endearing conclusion she had drawn, had your heart clench.

“Iksā iā rūklon,” Aemond said with a nod. “Se iā zaldrīzes.”

“Woah!” she gasped in uncontrolled excitement, shooting her eyes to yours. “I’m a flower and a dragon, muña!”

You gave her the warmest smile. “The most delicate flower and the fiercest dragon.”

She got on her knees, bouncing on the bed with newfound enthusiasm.

“When are you planting another flower in mother?” she grinned expectantly at Aemond who groaned and sank into his pillow.

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [HALF ASLEEP TAKIN' CHANCES] ❞

pairing: hotch x sitter!reader. summary: there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man.  content warnings: disgustingly cute fluff word count: 1,1k a/n: requested by baby boy @starch1ldz

      When Aaron offered to financially help with Jessica and Haley’s father he didn’t think through about how much time would be a new issue, with him around Jessica had no time to come and babysit Jack like before, especially in a rush.

      Jack was older, sure, but that didn’t mean Aaron was about to leave a 10-year-old alone while he was working–that’s why there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. 

      Trustworthy, smart enough to help his boy with homework and school projects, available to sleep in and possibly not an eye/hr was a tough find, but with Garcia’s help… He found you. 

      It’s about 3AM when he finally gets home this time around, 11 days melting away in Texas, communicating with you through texts and facetiming with Jack every morning for at least a few minutes being his saving grace, his breath of fresh air when evil corners him in. 

      Aaron expects to find a dark, quiet living room when his keys hit the door, he expects to gulp down some scotch, check on Jack from afar and then drop to his bed. 

      Instead, he is met with lights from the ceiling and from the TV that is blasting what appears to be a Spider-Man cartoon. Out of habit he frowns, quietly closing and locking the door behind him and leaving his bag on the floor. His steps towards the TV are as silent as possible against the wood of the floor, not that it would matter with all the noise coming from it. 

      Glancing the room before turning it off he is surprised by what he thinks it’s the most beautiful image he has seen in the longest time. You and Jack both asleep on the couch. Jack is facing the TV, but one of his arms are hugging one of yours fiercely. Your nose is up his hair, your other arm under the both of you and he doesn’t know how you haven’t felt it numb yet. Aaron leans into the wall careful not to make any noise, desiring nothing more than to take in this moment just a little bit more. The beauty in it, the peace and quiet. 

      He wishes he could take an actual picture without being a creep, but he will settle for a mental one for now. For some time all Aaron could think about was his boy, his happiness, his safety, his comfort, and Jack found it so easily in you that it was impossible for Aaron to not feel the same. You were warm, welcoming… Kind. 

      The sudden lack of sound when he turns the TV off wakes you up and you luckily have the self control not to get up in a startle, looking up with a smile and half opened eyes, your voice as low as possible not to spook the not so little one beside you in case he also ended up waking up. 

      “You’re home early.” You tease, sleepiness lacing your words, adoration clear in your eyes.

      Aaron only grins, crouching in front of his boy to admire his creation a bit more, safe and sound like that, he passes his hand through Jack’s forehead and hair to wake him up which he does in a jump much more loudly than yourself, hugging his dad happily. 

      “Hey buddy, let’s get you to bed?” At ten Jack isn’t as easy to carry as he once was, but Aaron still does it, especially when he’s this sleepy, especially when he hasn’t seen him in days. He hugs him tightly and softly strokes his hair as he takes him to his bedroom. 

      Jack wants to tell him all about his day, about his week and the cartoon he was watching just before he fell asleep, but Aaron is quick to remind him of the time, turning off his night lamp and kissing his forehead goodnight. He’s sure the boy is sound asleep once more before he even leaves the room. 

      He’s finally able to get his tie off of him, leaving it on the table as he gets you and himself scotch, his jacket is already buried in his go bag, not once having been worn in San Antonio’s heat. He hands you the glass, fingers brushing lightly before he settles himself leaning into the back of the couch. 

      “Was he difficult today?” His question almost breaks your heart, for as long as you know Jack, he has never been difficult, especially considering everything he’s been through at such a young age. But you understand his query means well and is about the fact Jack wasn’t in his bed at such late hours. 

      “Never difficult.” You answer it quickly, taking a sip of the scotch, it’s a bit too strong to you at most times, but you enjoy it before bed and the taste reminds you of Hotch. “He’s just been a bit… Skittish since the framing incident… Some nightmares. It happens less when he falls asleep with me first before going to bed.” 

      It almost feels like Aaron could cry at any minute at your revelation, a very different sight to what you’re used to from him. He’s very much the strong alpha male, unbreakable, a survivor, the most you get from him is his dry humor and the occasional opening up about his past–which you already adore–but the way his eyes glisten right now is completely… New. 

      You care, it’s in your job description, in your resume, in your heart. So you take two steps too close, your free hand going to his cheek as if its warmth could be enough to help him feel better. And it is, he leans into it, his eyes closed, his hand holding your wrist.

      “He’s fine, really. Doing great in school, excited for therapy days. Don’t make that terrible guilty father face. You’re a great dad, my salary attests to that.” You’re almost ashamed at the feeling you get when you’re able to make him laugh, but you’re definitely ashamed at how you mourn the feeling of his hand when he drops your wrist and you feel obligated to drop your hand. You finish the rest of the scotch in a mouthful and he does the same. 

      “Thanks for being here so much, Jack needs it. To be honest, I need it.” Aaron’s not even sure what he’s really admitting to, he just knows life has been incredibly easier and stable since you began taking care of Jack, and he feels silly for feeling the way he does, because he knows it’s your job, but he hopes his profiler abilities aren’t failing him when he looks into your eyes. 

      “Well, thanks for hiring me.” Your answer is merely a joke, used to hide your red cheeks and the way one of your hands went straight to your necklace, playing with it nervously. 

      Aaron notices it, he smiles to himself but doesn’t do anything about it. For now it’s enough to come home and find you safe and sound sleeping embraced with his boy. If anything more comes of it, he’ll let future Aaron make something of it. 

[byuntrash101]

milkshake. — 정.우영

f!reader x sub!wooyoung ft. seonghwa & san smut | mdni 3k wooyoung needs to impress the ceo and chairman to get the newly open cfo position and for that he's planning to go all out, show off everything he's got. including his precious, stunning and bewitching wife: you. nsfw tags under the cut

#20: riding + nipple play (twt p☆rnlink) office!au, ceo!seonghwa, chairman!san, husband!woo, billionnaire boys club vibes (very wealthy), trophy wife!reader, babysitter!yeosang (mentionned), the three of them worship reader, woo is a fierce business man by day but your good boy by night, mommy kink, cowgirl, unprotected sex (they are married so i'll allow it for once), brief voyeurism from hwa and san, nipple play, wooyoung lowkey has an oral fixation, also he's obsessed with your boobs, actually the others are also obsessed with your boobs (your milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard), lactation, lots of praises, creampie, cockwarming, lowkey wholesome (idk im in my feels)

a/n: yeah for my first woo fic! cant believe it took me this long but i actually absolutely love this piece. it really feels like woo idk like kinda very determined and ambitious but also simping for the one he loves in private... i love him ok? 😣

3k celebration | ateez masterlist | navigation

divider: @lavendergalactic

“I was just with Yeosang on the phone.” You settled the burgundy lips stick and grabbed your favorite blush. “He said she was exhausted after playing with uncle Sangie all day” you giggled picturing your little girl running around making his uncle crazy.

“Are you really going to wear that?” Wooyoung said as he lifted the dress you had chosen for tonight off the hanger with an almost disappointed expression.

You put down the blush powder and the brush you were holding to lower the volume of your “getting ready” playlist. You sighed, scanning your husband’s distressed face then the scrunched up material in his large balled fist. 

“What’s wrong with this dress? You’ve always liked it and isn’t black your favorite color?” 

“Yes it is but we need to make a strong impression tonight!” Wooyoung said, discarding the dress on the shared bed and disappearing in the adjacent walk-in closet. You shrugged and went back to your blush, time was running out and you still had to do something with your hair that was in the time being wet and wrapped in a towel.

“I have to show just how successful we are to show them how much more I can do for the company. I just have to get the job, '' Wooyoung said while rummaging through your wardrobe.

The CFO position had opened and Wooyoung was not about to miss his chance for a stupid simple black dress. Tonight was about showing off everything he got from the luxurious penthouse apartment in the heart of Seoul to the expensive sports cars tucked away in the garage and of course that included you. Without a doubt his most treasured accomplishment. His beautifully stunning wife. 

His fingers brushed over the sequins he was looking for and he pulled from the hanger a beautiful bodycon long dress. It was corseted at the waist and of a beautiful fiery red. It gave the exact message wooyoung wanted to convey: “alluring, daring, bold”.

He remembered when he saw you for the first time when he was just an intern finishing off university and entering the cruel cold world of business. Wooyoung fell for you on the spot. And the thing with this man is that he always gets what he wants. He was absolutely charming, witty, funny and of course obsessed with you. How could you not fall for him too? A year later he was buying you the ring. And you saw him year after year climbing the corporate ladder, making the right decisions, the right connections until he led the both of you here. 

You made the right choice when you picked him and his company will make the right choice when they’ll promote him. He’ll show them tonight.

He came back from the dressing room as you were taking the towel off your head. 

“Here, wear this!” he said, laying the dress on the bed. You approached him and pointed at the rather revealing dress. 

“Are you sure about this one?” you asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

“Absolutely certain” 

You shrugged once again and unwrapped your satin lounging gown to slip on the dress. As soon as you turned around, Wooyoung's heart jumped in his throat. The dress looked practically sewed onto your skin. It was kissing your frame beautifully and highlighting your womanly features perfectly. 

His eyes dropped to your decolletage and he swallowed hard trying to push back the thought of shoving his face right in your chest, pulling on the red fabric to make your breasts jump out, wrapping his lips around your nipples, sucking them, nibbling at them until they hardened under his hot tongue. Beg you to wrap your hand around his leaking coc-

“If your goal was to show off then it’s mission accomplished” you said, pulling Wooyoung out of his inner turmoil. You shook your shoulder slightly and your husband’s eyes diligently followed the swaying of your breasts which made you smirk. You knew he was holding back with everything he got. He never was able to resist you but you enjoyed watching him try.

“You’re so fucking hot” he breathed out, jaw hanging loose.

“Woo! You don’t think you should be a little more refined than that? That kind of behavior won't impress CEO Park and Chairman Choi” you chuckled as your husband reluctantly peeled his eyes off your chest to settle on your smoked out eyes.

You were a vixen goddess, created solely to have men kneeling at your feet. It was the only explanation that made sense.

Wooyong pulled on the Fendi blazer and checked his Rolex. Time was definitely running out but…

“Fuck them” Wooyoung huffed, taking a step towards you and pulling on the dress to reveal the object of his every fantasies. 

“Woo!! We’re going to be late” you slapped his shoulder, chuckling. He didn’t even last a handful of seconds.

“Please” he puffed quietly, wrapping his large hand around the lump of flesh lightly squeezing it, watching it ooze out of his grasp. He already sounded desperate. And you knew he was by the way his rock hard cock was pressing on your hip. But just in case you didn't catch on yet, Wooyoung made it very clear.

“Please, mommy. Let me have just a little taste” he looked up at you with such pleading eyes. Nothing of the fierce and determined business man he was a second ago and will be in a minute from now.

“Fine baby.” you admitted defeat and instantly wooyoung wetted his pretty lips and wrapped them around your nipples sucking on the bud and pressing them with his palm until they started leaking his favorite treat. So warm, velvety and sweet. Perfect.

He didn’t waste a single drop hungrily sucking and swallowing in big gulps. You moaned at your husband’s fervor before pushing him out lightly.

“Enough”.

Wooyoung extended his neck just to prolong the pleasure for a brief second before he popped off your chest with a lewd wet sound. 

He wiped the milk with his thumb. “Go and get ready” He said before licking a drop o white milk on his thumb. So he turned on his heels and left.

In the next minutes you did your hair in an elegant updo that complimented the rest of the ensemble. And you finished off the look with a pair of opened toed high heeled sandals.

Meanwhile Wooyoung tended to the rest of the preparations and just as he went over the menu one last time with the private chef the doorbell rang. 

“CEO Park, Chairman Choi, please enter” Wooyoung said politely inviting the guests in. 

“Aaaah Wooyoung-ah!” Mr Park tapped Wooyoung’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “Thank you for having us” Mr Choi said, lightly bowing his head, as always his manners were irreproachable.

“Very nice place” Mr Park noted as he admired the high ceiling of the hall and the huge stairway leading to the upstairs.

“Thank you, CEO Park” Wooyoung smiled politely.

“Come on, call me Seonghwa!” he said, tapping his shoulder once again. “We might have to work a little closely, so we better get used to being familiar, huh?” Mr Park gave a light squeeze on his shoulder. Wooyoung’s eyes turned round with surprise. He turned to Mr Choi to make sure he heard correctly and the latter gave him a small knowing smile that creased his cat-like eyes. Wooyoung’s face brightened up, things were going even better than he expected.

“Right, Sannie?”

“Of course! You played your cards well up until now. There’s no reason we should change our minds tonight, right?” The Chairman smiled again.

“Yes! Of course, sir” Wooyoung bowed respectfully and returned the bright smile, radiating. “Please follow me to the living space. My wife will join us short-”

“I’m here, honey” You said from the top of the stairs. Gently picking up your red dress before descending.

As soon as you appeared all three heads whipped to you. You were absolutely stunning, captivating their gaze with just the way your legs were supporting you and letting you down the stairs so elegantly. Wooyoung’s smile grew twice as large when he saw from the corner of his eyes Mr Park’s talkative mouth close in surprise and Mr Choi mechanically pull on the collar of his italian tailored shirt that suddenly felt a little tight. He knew they wanted to throw themselves on their knees and kiss your feet. It was in their mortal nature to worship a goddess like you. 

“Please excuse me. I was held back for a while” you simply excused yourself while the two other men thickly swallowed and tried to regain composure to start articulating something that sounded intelligible. 

“There’s no need to apologize,” Mr Park said, round eyes turning sharp all of a sudden. “You look sublime, Madam” You giggled as he took your hand and laid a soft kiss on the back. 

“Oh thank you, what a charmer” you laughed exchanging a winning look with your husband. 

You knew how much he liked to see other men eyeing you like candy knowing he was the one holding your hand every day and tasting you every night. He loved to show you off. Seeing other men drooling over you, imagining in a split second how a night with you would feel just reminds him you are his. His only. They can look all they want that only fuels your husband.

And the spell was definitely casted as Mr Choi’s gaze was inevitably pulled by the magnetic power of your cleavage, he eyed your chest with little to no restrain. The legendary Choi Clan’s princely manners didn’t last long, Wooyoung thought, grinning to himself.

“Mr Choi, you bowed respectfully making the man blush slightly as he also bowed.

“Mrs. Jung.”

“Please follow me. Let's sit and enjoy tonight” Wooyoung said, saving Mr Choi from more embarrassment. 

As the evening  progressed you all had drinks before moving on to the meal. You captured the attention more than once of the two other men trying so hard not to look below your neckline. Of course they couldn't. But Wooyoung really shined through. He was talking strategy and finance for the company but also knew how to entertain the guests. He was funny but also incredibly competent. That much was obvious. Of course he was! He was your husband. Nothing resisted him. Not even you. 

At some point the night was well advanced, the house staff all went home and after so long you just couldn’t handle anymore of all this attention on you, you needed a little break from it all. You excused yourself to the bathroom. 

Since you had deserted the battlefield you figured you would send a small encouragement to your husband. You took your phone and hit ‘record’. You pulled down the dress once again, making your breast jump out of the fabric, they were so full, already pearling. You lightly palmed them with one hand and pinched your nipple, making yourself moan in release before pulling on it making your tit spurt out a big squirt of white warm milk, you sighed and moaned, your milk spilling on the marble floors. You barely managed to keep your voice down and you figured you should probably stop there before you make an even bigger mess. So you hit ‘send’.

“Where did you find her, Wooyoung-ah? She’s incredible. Right, San?” Mr Park asked, blatant admiration in his voice made airy with the alcohol. Wooyoung laughed, happy to add yet another name to the long list of your suitors. 

“She is quite the lady isn’t she?” Mr Choi agreed, tilting his head back and downing the rest of his whisky, already crimson red in the cheeks.

Wooyoung’s phone chimed when he pulled it out he noticed it was a video file he muted his phone and played the video, without realizing the other two were peeping at the screen. He immediately felt his pants grow tighter as you pulled on the dress revealing your breasts. And when you squirted the milk out he was about to lose it.

“Fuckkk” Mr Choi let out in a quiet whisper.

“Wow” Mr Park breathed simultaneously.

Both their voices were drenched in need and transpired arousal beyond comprehension. Even though they were sitting, there was no need to see below their waistline to know they both were hard and leaking.

All three men looked at each other in shock. For a second silence fell between them. Wooyoung knew he could have been a little more careful and the other two knew they shouldn’t have peeped but it was too tempting. You were too tempting. 

“Looks like she needs you right there, Wooyoung-ah” Mr Choi said before sitting up. “I think we overstayed our welcome. Are you ready to go, CEO Park?”

Wooyoung accompanied them to the front door despite the discomforting tightness of his pants but it was an issue the other two were sharing. 

“I believe we’ll see you in your new office on Monday, CFO Jung?” Mr Choi winked at Wooyoung and went on his way while Mr Park stayed back.

“You’re one lucky bastard, you know that?” he added before joining Mr Choi.

As soon as Wooyoung closed the front door he ran upstairs with big strides to your bedroom where he found you waiting for him standing in the middle of the room. 

“You did such a good job today, Youngie” you said, spreading your arms where he immediately engulfed himself, nuzzling your neck with his nose that you loved so much. You sat him on the edge of the bed while you stood and his face slipped from your neck to your breasts. 

Finally his happy place.

“You were such a good boy for mommy today”

“I was?” he looked up at you with loving, sparkly eyes.

“Yes of course you were, CFO Jung”

“Fuck it sounds so good when you say it” He huffed and you chuckled. 

“You deserve your reward” you zipped down the red gown and let it pool at your feet. Wooyoung almost exploded just looking at you. He wanted to be all over you, to worship you but he knew better than to say anything. He knew he just had to wait and so he did when you stripped him off his clothes until you were both in your simplest forms. 

You pushed on his chest until he was leaning back on his elbows, feet still flat on the floor.

“You’re going to be a good boy and let mommy ride your pretty cock?”

“Y-Yesss mommy. I’ll be g-... fuck- I’ll be so good for you” he panted as you pumped his cock a couple of times between your fingers before straddling him and aligning hm with your entrance. “Look at me baby” you whispered as you were lowering your hips, Wooyoung eyes snapped to yours, they looked so distressed, they were begging for help. And you were about to grant his wish.

“Nhhgggg Fffff- Mommy~” Wooyoung’s last two brain cell were officially bing fried beyond recognition as he felt your warm and wet pussy taking him. You felt like heaven, so tight but so welcoming. So fucking perfect that he had to focus on anything that wasn’t you not to bust immediately. He looked at the moldings on the ceiling or the subtle diamond pattern of the satin sheets just so he could last for you. Be good for you. It was what he desired most. He wanted to make you feel good.

“Mmmhh so good my baby” you cooed, your voice a tad strained. You too were pretty worked up and you knew you wouldn’t last long. All this teasing made you quite impatient and you started to rock your hips back and forth immediately taking a rhythm that you knew was aiming the both of you straight to the finish line. 

“Fuck mommy please I want t-… nghhh- to have mommy’s milk” Wooyoung cried as his cock throbbed inside you. You wrapped your hand around his nape and brought his mouth to your tit. 

“Drink up, baby”

“Fank youph” Wooyoung said his mouth full eagerly sucking on your nipples while your hips rolled and bucked against his, making him see stars and forget about anything that wasn’t you and him. The precious nectar flooded his mouth and he swallowed in thick gulps, white and sweet milk spilling down his chin and dripping onto his abs. 

“Good boy, good baby” you huffed as you picked up the pace earning another perfectly muffled moan from your devastatingly cute husband. You were very close, your cunt clenching down on Wooyoung’s length like it was the last time ever.

“Now you’re gonna cum for ma baby Okay?” you panted. “Make mommy nice and full with your cum, okay?”

“Yeshyeshyesh” Woyoung mumbled, sucking even harder on your hard and leaking nipple. Urging you to rutt your hips even faster making him whine and whimper as his cock was ready to implode inside you.

“Fuckk baby you’re so good. So so good for me~~” 

“Mommyyy” Woyoung said, finally losing it as he took your nipple between his teeth harshly pulling at the skin, squirting a stream of milk onto his wet tongue while he pumped you full of piping hot cum.

You moaned and arched your back as you came undone, the stimulation on your tit paired with the delicious filling sensation in your lower stomach swept you off in a wave of mind numbing pleasure, your cunt throbbing around Wooyoung’s cock until it was certain he had given you everything he had to offer. 

You stayed exactly like this. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tight to your chest as you both tried to catch your breath, mind pleasantly fuzzy after an intense orgasm.

After a while you pulled back slightly, careful to not let his softening cock slip out, keeping him nice and snug inside your heat. You kissed his pretty and reddened face, his cheeks, moles,  nose and lips. Everywhere you could, pushing his dampened hair out of his pretty eyes.

“Excellent work, CFO Jung. The company is lucky to have you. But I’m even luckier.”

a/n: thanks for reading <3333

3k celebration | ateez masterlist | navigation

[thinemoonshine]

⋆ ˚｡𝒯𝐻𝒰𝑀𝒫! 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒿𝓊𝓂𝓅𝓈! ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

enhypen 8th fem!member x hyung line content(s): angst(for heeseung’s but (y/n) puts him in his place), fluff, (y/n) rizzing the hyung line(unintentionally), cutesy members type: oneshot word count: 1842 (avg. of 461 words for each member)

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ synopsis: in which the hyung line’s hearts go THUMP! THUMP! in a fluttery way when (y/n) does a certain something ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

maknae line version

when she’s confident (l.hs)

this one can be general but to be exact, it’s when she acts like a complete girlboss—slaying the day and all that stuff. the type of confidence that’s sassy and teasing that contends with his own pride and tough facade. or in other simpler terms: putting him in his place.

“all i asked for was just a little help here and there because i’m exhausted. is that too much to ask for?” heeseung scoffs with a deep, discontented frown.

“is a ‘thank you’ too much to ask for?” (y/n) snaps back and the other’s gears seem to halt momentarily, not expecting her to talk back—with his own words, at that—considering how she’s always so patient.

he clears his throat but he’s not one to back down so easily. “that’s it? that’s the reason why you’re acting like a brat?”

his words cut her deeper than she thought it would and even for him, it’s harsh—coming out more abrasive than he meant it to be.

(y/n)’s glare sharpens and she slides the mug across the table to him. “make your own drink. i’ve had enough of you bossing me around.”

with that, her arms fall to her side before she turns to leave—until heeseung stops her. of course.

“HEY! don’t walk away from me! you think i’m gonna let you talk to me like that?? i’m older than you!”

(y/n) whips her head to him before stalking towards him instead. the same grim look on her face even when she stands close, chin almost touching his chest from their proximity. “so what? you’re older so it’s okay that you’re rude? you’re older therefore you deserve respect? nah… you gotta earn it. i figured you’d know this by now because you’re the wise old man.”

astonishment fills him at her mockery and heeseung resists from taking a step back at her bold confrontation, wanting to be as unyielding and fierce as she is—and yet another part of him wants to simply surrender and let her have her victory because dang, her temper is hot.

hot in which way? heeseung struggles with that too.

“oh, now you’re quiet,” she scoffs haughtily with a tilt of her head and her lips pulled to a scornful smirk. oh, how the expression makes him stagger ever so subtly. “you know, as much as i love your pretty voice, you’re better of like this if you’re just gonna use it to boss me around like a jerk.”

he knows she means it to taunt him. he knows that her ‘compliment’ is meant more of demeaning than it is praising—so why does he want to hear her say it again?

she takes another step closer, bodies almost touching and panic imbues more when his back presses against the wall.

her stare is intense, digging into his own so viciously, relentlessly, that he feels as if he’s laid bare upon her—secrets uncovered and he’s sure that she can see his vulnerability shining through. that is, if his palms tight against the white partition behind him and the occasional nervous licks of his bottom lip are not dead giveaways.

“seeing as you’re old enough as it is, i don’t think you’d need a babysitter to make your drink for you, hm?” she taunts with her voice light and airy, much too soft for the venom that drips through and the knowledge of that does something to him—ridding him of air.

he doesn’t remember thinking much, all he remembers is him automatically shaking his head and (y/n) shoving the mug to his chest before she strides away, followed by a slam of a door and now, a deafening silence.

heeseung leans limply as his chest rises dramatically at the deep inhale he takes before exhaling it just as thoroughly. putting his hand on the left side, his jaw tightens at the vehement beats of his heart and at the sudden recollection of (y/n)’s frigid, commanding tone and slicing glare he feels it skip a beat before it accelerates.

he shakes his head as his a rosy shade mantles his face, turning him as red as a tomato and it reaches the tips of his ears.

“crazy…” he mumbles to himself as the urge to make her mad at him once more occupies his head. it’s clear who prevails this time—and yet, he feels like he’s won something much better than what he bargained for.

spending time with him even during the mundanity (p.js)

jongseong absolutely adores and appreciates every moment he and (y/n) spend together. but what really gets to him is when she wants to spend her time together even for the most mundane of things—cooking, cleaning, having tea and crackers—all that everyday routine. there’s just something so heartwarming and touching about being domestic together.

“jayyy~” (y/n) sings as she skips through the corridor. jay smiles just from hearing her and turns to the girl—without losing focus on folding the last of their laundry—when she emerges.

“finished playing your game?” jay asks and slides the basket of neatly folded clothes to the side of the couch, smiling at (y/n).

the girl nods. “yup,” she casually says with a pop of the ‘p.’ her eyes glance at him who’s following her with his warm gaze before noticing the basket on the floor.

jay pulls his eyes away when she slips into the kitchen and starts playing his phone only to look back up just moments later when a hot drink gets quietly placed in front of him. his brows raise with surprise and confusion at (y/n) who wears a a small smile. “for me?”

“mhm. thought you’d want some,” she says and takes the space beside him. “biscuits?”

a warm, fuzzy sensation imbues and spreads from his chest to his limbs, like a drop of ink on plain fabric—colouring the dull, chalky cloth with bright hues. jay can’t stop the smile that spreads in his face, small dimple surfacing.

“thank you,” he bashfully says as he takes a cookie from her and lifts the mug to his cute, teeny lips—sneaking a side glance at the girl who sits while holding her mug on her knee, legs crossed and all.

despite his external silence, his head is loud with hopeful thinking of doing this again with (y/n). he’s already planning on making a hot drink for her first tomorrow, on buying more biscuits and crackers and cream buns—whatever it is to make her have this little tea time with him again. and again. and again and again and—basically what 2pm said.

when he’s her priority (s.jy)

jake absolutely adores it when (y/n) gives him her undivided attention. there are a lot of them in the group after all and it’s hard for her to focus on one when everyone’s talking, singing, dancing or pulling off whatever life-risking stunt there is.

so whenever he gets to have her all to himself, it makes him feel just a little bit smug and victorious.

“(y/n)~ play with my hair?” jake asks with a pout and bats his pretty eyes at her as he walks up to the girl who’s sitting criss-crossed on their living room as she watches the TV.

she chuckles and nods before going back to looking at the screen as he breaks out into a wide, happy grin—sitting down on the floor in front of her and melting instantly when he feels her fingers raking through his dark locks.

her motions are instinctive yet endearing—braiding and twirling his hair without so much as a glance—and her tenderness seeps through him. the soft tugs on his scalp is soothing, like a gentle massage and his eyes shut as they grow heavy.

“(y/n)~ can you help me with choosing a toy for maeum?” jungwon comes by and jake’s instantly alarmed. the apple in his throat bobs nervously as he dreads the idea of (y/n) leaving him—

“sorry, jungwon. i promised jake to do his hair so maybe, later?” (y/n) apologizes and wonnie looks down to his hyung. a small pout forms as he sees him getting pampered, suddenly wishing he grew out his hair so (y/n) will play with it.

but still, the leader digresses and flashes an assuring smile before leaving the two.

jake’s wide awake now. (y/n)’s rejection onto jungwon to stay with him, one and only sim jaeyun, being the main cause and he’s unable to stop the smile that stretches on his face—criss-crossed legs flapping up and down like the wings of the butterflies in his stomach as his heart knocks and gnaws violently against its cage.

“stop moving so much,” (y/n) chides playfully and jake giggles with a drawn out, chirpy “okay~”

the goofiest, cutest grin on his silly, gleeful face.

when she thinks of him even when he’s not around (p.sh)

“ooh! hoon would suit this!” (y/n) exclaims when she sees a keychain reminding her of sunghoon while out shopping in an en-o’clock episode. the said male member isn’t there since it’s her solo mission but once they watch it together, you better believe he’ll have a grin forming on his face.

a ticklish feeling occurs inside his chest like feathers have clogged up his lungs and are brushing his heart and he’ll turn to the girl who sits adjacent from him—though, separated by ni-ki and sunoo who sit between them. his smile broadens when he sees her looking at him as well.

one of his luxuriant dark brows raises at her, questioning or more exactly, endearingly teasing the girl for her little gesture that makes his chest tighten in a strangely enjoyable way and she’ll shrug with a cheeky smile. his lips part slightly, amused by her response before he turns back to the screen.

later on when the others aren’t around, he’ll bring it up again and even throws silly little jokes of “you missed me a lot, huh?” “can’t stop thinking about me, can you?” as he circles her in a controlled chaotic manner—like a little pup blocking her path.

or a cat who keeps brushing against your leg and will only stop either when they’re given a treat, or you trip and fall on your face.

“stop it!” she then giggles and he feels his joy doubling at hers, finally standing still as she fishes something out of her pocket. “here.”

dangling from her fingers is the keychain she mentioned in the en-o’clock episode they watched and sunghoon’s brows raise, eyes turn rounder and lips gaping slightly.

she actually got it for him.

“here you go. one and only for you,” (y/n) says and drops it onto his open palm.

“just me…” sunghoon mumbles much too quietly for her to discern and once again, he feels that same fluttery, sickeningly sweet feeling that both frees and squeezes his chest—if not stronger.

‘she thought of me,’ he thinks and lifts his gaze from the chain to her—ruffling her hair intensely and almost making a bird’s nest on her crown.

his fangs are showcased proudly as he beams, eyes upturning and charming chuckles rumbling.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog— they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[ddejavvu]

I don't know if you're taking requests right now so if you aren't just ignore this, BUT if you are...

Imagine Hotch getting a call from babysitter reader where Jack is in the ER cause he sprained his ankle and, obviously Aaron is a little upset and worried. But when he gets to the ER he sees that reader is an absolute wreck of tears and snot and she rambling on and on about how sorry she is and how she never meant to let Jack get hurt. And Aaron's looking at her like 'omg she's so adorable when she's a mess'. So he calms her down and they go to Jack and Aaron sees that Jack isn't even crying he's just sitting in the bed with a lollipop and a wrap on his ankle. And now Hotch is trying not to laugh at reader for so ridiculously overreacting.

And you can finish it. I know it's a long ask but it's been in my head for a while and it would be such a pleasure and honor for you to make the drabble come true. 😘 love YOU and all your work!!!!!

Aaron's been repeating the phrase sprained ankle in his head over and over since he'd gotten the call from the hospital, but now he's wondering if Jack has since been crushed by some wayward hospital machinery when he spots you hunched over in the waiting room, sobbing into your hands. Your shoulders are shaking and Aaron gravitates towards you rather than the door behind you, letting his shoes click audibly against the linoleum flooring to alert you of his presence.

"Y/N," He calls, and your head shoots out of your hands, your legs trembling as you stand to greet him. You're a wreck, eyes puffy and red and nose dripping obscenely despite the tissues in your hands.

"Mr. Hotchner, I'm so sorry," You gush, and he doesn't hesitate to take you into his arms, voice soothing as he shushes you, "I- I swear I was watching him, but he wanted- he wanted me to wait at the other end of the slide, so when he fell I wasn't close enough to catch him, and he- he- I'm so sorry!"

"I know," He hums, "It's alright. It's not your fault, he's a kid. He gets scrapes and bruises all the time. Where is he?"

"In there," You gladly accept his embrace, even if you don't particularly feel deserving of it, and you jerk your thumb towards the door behind you, "I'm not family, so they won't let me in. They need you to sign paperwork."

Aaron's mouth twists down in a displeased frown, and he makes a mental note to ensure you're on file as one of Jack's emergency contact. Jessica is the only person besides himself that he's added, but in case of any future incidents, he wants you to be able to stay with Jack.

"Come with me," He only withdraws one arm from around your shoulders, keeping the other draped across your shivering frame to keep you steady, "Let's go see him, honey. It's okay, I'm not upset with you, okay? It's not your fault."

"But- but I should have-" You press, but Aaron cuts off your babbling before you can whip yourself up into another tearful frenzy.

"Did you push him?"

You rear back, aghast, "No!" and Aaron has to bite his tongue to stop himself from smiling at the indignation in your eyes. For you to love his son so fiercely as to be offended by such a notion only reinforces his confidence in you as a caretaker.

"Well then, it's not your fault. He almost got a concussion on my watch, you know."

You swallow a sob, composing yourself as he walks through the doorway, pointedly dragging you along with him despite the nurse's suspicious look.

"Really?" You ask, and Aaron nods.

"I was making dinner, and I called him in from the living room. But I'd left my computer charging on the desk, and the cord was on the carpet, and he tripped over it and smacked his head against the wood floor."

You wince at the story, and Aaron internally does the same, remembering the sickening crack of his son's head against the flooring, "It was scary. And that was my fault, I left the cord out."

"But you didn't mean for him to trip over it," You muse, letting Aaron guide you through the hallway towards the room that the nurse had directed him to over the phone, "It wasn't your fault."

"And neither was this," Aaron concludes, stopping in front of door 208, "Ready?"

Your shoulders sag at his artful storytelling skills, and you nod, wiping your hands once more over your eyes. It doesn't do much for your runny nose, and Aaron takes his pocket square from his suit, holding the back of your neck and persisting even when you try to squirm away.

"Aaron- no!" You protest, trying to dodge his grip to no avail. Your words are muffled as he smears the fabric under your nose, "You'll ruin the material!"

"Jack gets macaroni and cheese fingerprints on my suits all the time," Aaron grumbles, his grip firm and tight on the back of your neck, "It's nothing my dry cleaners can't fix."

When he's satisfied that you're as cleaned up as you can manage, he tucks the square back into his pocket, unphased by the grimace you shoot him. The echo of his hand on the back of your neck is still present as he knocks on the door, and he's pleasantly surprised when Jack himself opens the door, his ankle wrapped with a bandage.

"Hi, Daddy!" He grins at Aaron, lips stained red with the remnants of a cherry sucker, "Hi Y/N! You look sad."

"I am sad," You supply feebly, eyeing his ankle warily, "Are you okay, buddy?"

"Mhm!" Jack nods, letting his dad push the door open and guide you inside the room, "The doctor says I can still walk on it, I just hav'ta rest a lot."

The doctor, perched on a stool inside the room, nods with a fond smile at Jack, "That's right. He needs to walk on it for it to recover, but he shouldn't overextend himself. thirty minutes to an hour of exercise each day should do the trick."

"Thank you, doctor." Aaron nods, "Is he free to go?"

"Yes, if you'll just sign these." The doctor pushes forth a modest stack of paperwork, maybe ten pages that Aaron hopes are mainly spots for signatures, "I need to attend to my next patient, so I'll send my nurse in to collect those in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Aaron nods, and you bid the doctor the same thanks as he takes his leave, lingering by the doorway until Jack takes your hand.

"The doctor said to give you this," Jack digs into the pocket of his plaid shorts, pulling out a green lollipop, "He said he saw you crying in the waiting room. Were you crying in the waiting room?"

"I was," You try to smile, but Aaron can tell with only a quick glance at you that you're fighting back tears again, "I was worried about you, Jack. It's okay, you can have the lollipop."

"No, it's for you." Jack insists, and Aaron watches your trembling lips pull into a smile as Jack pushes you over to a chair against the wall, herding you into the seat. You let him direct you into the middle seat, but he bypasses the seats on either side of you to climb right into your lap.

"Here," His tiny fingers pry at the plastic wrapping of the sucker, "I can open it for you."

Aaron doesn't have to look up again from the paperwork he's signing to know there's fondness written all over your face, he can hear it in your shaky, 'Thanks, buddy'. He knows it's there because he can feel the same thing in his own chest, and he doesn't bother trying to keep it off of his face as it flowers equally abundant for both you and his son.

[faux-ecrivain]

Yan babysitter

(Fourth official post)

(This one is a bit shorter than my other posts)

“Don’t worry I’ll take good care of them!” He placates your parents as they leave, waving them off and slamming the door shut when your parents have gone far enough.

He turns to you, with a rather fierce glare and shoos you off to your room. 

Yan babysitter that wants nothing to do with you, that only took the job because he needs the money. 

Yan babysitter who thinks you’re too old for a babysitter, but he doesn’t care, your parents are rich and that’s all he needs to know.

Yan babysitter who did not anticipate you to be such an irresponsible nuisance. (What’s with the weird cultists that keep knocking on the door and where’s that strange whispering coming from??)

Yan babysitter who quickly discovers that maybe this job was more than he bargained for, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive of his job.

Yan babysitter who, somehow, ended up trapped in another dimension and is trying to escape. (Turns out cultists don’t take too kindly to the door being slammed in their face)

Yan babysitter who is sure he’s going to die here in this strange dimension.

Yan Babysitter who regrets ever taking this job and swears that if he ever gets out he’s never coming to this house again.

Yan babysitter who faces the horrors of this other dimension, each monster warping his mind and easing him into insanity.

Yan babysitter who’s so close to escaping, but then he gets trapped by some weird otherworldly creature.

Yan babysitter whose life flashes before his eyes as the creature nears.

He closes his eyes and can only hope that this won’t be dragged out, he can feel the creature approach, and he can do nothing but curl up into a ball and beg for mercy.

However, death doesn’t come, no, just when the creature unhinged its jaw and prepares to (quite literally) devour Yan babysitter, he’s saved.

Yan babysitter who’s stunned whenever you rescue him and when he tries to express his gratitude you dismiss his gratitude. (This happened a lot, you tell him, you even suggest that it was your parents intention to sacrifice him.)

Yan babysitter, who from then on, is absolutely obsessed with you (he treats you like a deity, swearing that he’ll serve you forever.)

You brush him off, as you are used to saving irresponsible babysitters from the jaws of doom, then your try to ignore his constant rambling about you being a deity. (Because you aren’t, you’re just a normal person with magic powers) Yet, no matter how much you ignore him his ramblings don’t (Maybe you should’ve left him in that other dimension)

He takes your indifference as a sign of shyness, his mind warped by the brief time he spent in that other dimension. (Seriously, he’s going to need major therapy when he leaves this house) He decides to dedicate his life to protecting you or at the very least repay you for saving his life.

Which then leads to him following you around, intervening in everything you do and then isolating you from those he deems a threat. (Mostly your friends)

Somehow, in less than two weeks, he has threatened half of your neighborhood and caused almost all your friends to go missing. 

At this point, it occurs to you that maybe Yan babysitter is a danger to your lifestyle and you should probably get rid of him. Which marks the beginning of your attempts to erase him from existence, however this doesn’t sway him, and he somehow believes that the person targeting him is actually aiming for you.

So, now, you’ve got an overprotective babysitter watching your every move and probably hiding in your walls. (Maybe you should have let him rot in the other dimension, less trouble and you wouldn’t have had to explain to your parents why the demon in your basement is still hungry)

Yan babysitter who promises to always protect you and to be by your side forever. (He’s such a nuisance)

(Sorry for the short post, I was somewhat distracted by the tv when I was writing this.)

(Regardless, enjoy this post and feel free to comment)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Have some Babysitter Fierce Dadity snippets because why not

The fierce deity was sprawled on the floor on his belly, head propped on a fist that dug into his cheek. His eyes were settled on the little wiggling bundle in front of him as Navi tried to crawl and instead flailed her arms while grunting. She pushed on the ground to elevate her torso a little after failing to actually move anywhere, and Fierce extended a hand towards her.

His finger got within a hair’s breadth of her face and then he gently booped her on the nose.

Navi squealed in absolute delight, rolling onto her back and giggling, and Fierce’s smile glowed nearly as brightly as his eyes.

XXX

Navi usually fell asleep with humming. The fierce deity could oblige with some tune or another, dredged from vague memories mixed with those of his little hero. Sometimes Link and Malon recognized the tune, other times it was completely foreign.

Today, though, no tune would satiate the little infant. Nor would food. Fierce rocked her gently and decided to speak to her gently instead, at first with words of assurance and care. When the little baby's attention was latched onto the soothing, smooth voice rumbling over her, the cursed deity switched tactics and started telling her a story instead.

"There, there, little one," Fierce soothed, pacing in the nursery, his head bowed over the infant. "I would offer to tell you a story of your father and his many adventures, but I imagine he will be the better author of that narrative than I. Instead, I will tell you of the hero I know of, the original Hero of Time."

Navi watched Fierce with fascination as the deity gazed off into the distance, eyes looking beyond the walls of the house. "Long ago, the world was fresh and new. Life was just blossoming, and the people were in close connection with the gods. A goddess who could manipulate time, called Hylia, was tasked with protecting a piece of the divine, the Triforce.

"For many years there was prosperity until a demon king, a god of chaos and malice named Demise, tore from the earth with his armies. A bloody war was fought for control of the world. But Hylia held out hope. She sealed the darkness away until her chosen hero could defeat it."

Here, the deity paused, sighing. "I never met this Hero, but Hylia had the utmost faith in him. She always looked so... relieved and happy when she spoke of him. But there was a weight to her words, a knowledge and guilt that permeated her. She always hoped she wouldn't have to rely on his aid. But... given what I've learned of the situation since then, it seems that it did indeed fall to him. Legend says he traveled across time itself and became known as the Hero of Time before your father took that mantle and claimed it for himself."

"I'd never heard of the original legend."

The fierce deity turned to see Link standing in the doorway, his eyes fascinated and wary at the same time.

"When I first took the Master Sword, it was said that I truly looked like the legendary Hero of Time," Link commented as he walked into the room, his gaze falling on his daughter. His face softened as Fierce handed her over to him, but then he looked back at the cursed deity. "I spent years wondering who that original legendary hero was, and whether I had lived up to his legacy. Wondering whether I would be viewed the same, if..."

Link swallowed and looked away. "What was he like?"

"I don't know," Fierce answered honestly. "But Hylia trusted him. I'd like to meet him someday."

Link's gaze snapped back at the fierce deity, confused and surprised. "You can do that?"

Fierce's smile, gentle and reassuring, turned melancholy. "Someday. But you are the Hero of Time, Link. And your legacy will live on forever."

XXX

Malon yawned and stretched as she slowly tried to wake up. Padding downstairs, she sniffled a little as the lukewarm spring air was filled with pollen. She saw a silhouette shaped like Link sitting on the couch in front of her, his back to her, and she heard Navi cooing.

My, aren't we up early, she mused as she rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes. She was surprised, she could have sworn Link was still in bed when she got up.

Tiptoeing to stand behind the couch where her husband sat, she leaned over him, running her hands through his hair and sliding them down his neck to wrap around him. Bending over, she kissed him on the cheek. "Good morning--"

She froze. A flustered painted face watched her in return, his cheeks redder than she'd ever seen them.

"Not Link." Malon choked out.

"Not Link." Fierce confirmed, eyes wide.

The two stared at each other awkwardly, both steadily blushing more and more until Malon shot up to stand straight again while Fierce stared ahead pointedly.

And then Malon laughed. "I won't tell Link if you don't."

Fierce practically shriveled into the sofa, making Malon laugh even harder.

[odxrilove]

pairing: neighbor!wonbin x f!reader

genre: neighbors to lovers, babysitting!au (kinda)

warnings: reader has a baby brother, mentions of reader blushing, 2k

a/n: my first riize fic ^^ i hope yall enjoy this hehe

back to masterlist !

“you know, you shouldn’t even be here right now.”

“yn.”

wonbin’s tone is stern and you cross your arms, letting out a loud huff to show your discontentment. from your position in the kitchen, you can stare at your neighbor-turned-babysitter all day, but you’re currently angry, so you opt to pout and grumble instead.

you can clearly hear wonbin sigh in defeat and you watch him lean back on his arms on the floor from the corner of your eye. he’s a few feet away from your little brother, giving him enough space to draw in his coloring book.

the handsome boy (you’re angry, but not blind) turns to you, black hair perfectly framing his stupidly pretty face. your eyes fall to his lips for a second. one second too long apparently because soon he starts to grin and you have no other option than to look away and pout again.

a chuckle leaves his mouth and it annoys you more than it should.

he tilts his head a bit and looks at you, eyes raking over your casual outfit. you’re really trying to not look his way, simply because you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing your attention is on him but you’re still curious as to why he seems more concentrated on you than on his job.

don’t look.

your hand covers your mouth as you spin your pen with your fingers, swiftly clicking on it before writing a new sentence in your notebook, elbow propped up on the kitchen island.

all the while you flip a few pages in your textbook to get to a new chapter of history, wonbin hums, high fiving your brother when the latter shows him his colorful drawing.

you swear you’re not paying attention, but the way you can hear him smiling as he speaks softly makes your face burn, ears turning red. he’s good with kids, and although you’re supposed to be pissed at your parents– and thus him– you can’t help but admit he’s doing a good job.

you would have done a good job too, you tell yourself.

your hand stills over the counter, pen inches away from the paper. in not even one second, you went from being productive and finally getting some homework done to thinking about wonbin and his pretty eyes.

you hate this, because you swear you’re angry at him. or at least you’re supposed to.

deep down you know that the so-called hatred you have for him right now is a way to stop you from thinking about what you really feel for your neighbor.

gosh, his eyes are just so pretty.

maybe you’re overreacting a bit too. maybe you’re being a bit dramatic, because the way wonbin starts to frown as he notices your brows furrow makes your heart throb.

you had decided to sit at the kitchen island to do your homework, because the kitchen table seemed a bit too close to the living room. but now that you’re actually in the kitchen, you realize you’re facing him (and your little brother, of course) and if you’d even look up for one second, eye contact would be guaranteed.

this sucks, you think, as you slide off the barstool and wander deeper into the kitchen. maybe if you’d fake looking for something to eat in the fridge, he would finally look away.

without really being thirsty, you grab the first carton you find and move to pour yourself a glass of whatever said carton contains. ah, apple juice it is.

you think you’re finally starting to get more comfortable in your own home after wonbin’s arrival but then he lets out a giggle– one that you find absolutely adorable too– and your lips freeze on the brim of your glass, head snapping towards the living room. “what.” you almost bark out, eyes fierce.

“it’s nothing,” wonbin has to swallow a laugh and divert his eyes, waving his hand in front of his. “don’t worry about it!”

you put your glass down on the counter and put a hand on your hip, eyes big and confused. “tell me,” you just watch as he lets out another giggle at your desperate tone, “c’mon! i’m gonna think you’re making fun of me if you don’t tell me.”

“your slippers,” this time wonbin looks at you, really looks at you. he sees how your eyes go wide and how your nose twitches in surprise. he sees how your lips fall open and gape at him and he sees how eyelashes flutter when you blink rapidly. he speaks up again, still looking at you, “they’re cute.” you’re cute.

“ah,” you nod, a bit surprised.

“you can compliment me back, y’know”

“i can literally kick you out right now.”

wonbin only puts his two hands up, a teasing smile clear on his lips as he admits defeat.

–

it’s slowly getting darker outside, the sun disappearing behind the houses in your neighborhood.

you’re on the last page of your essay when wonbin closes the living room curtains and finally agrees to your brother’s request of watching his favorite film. you find it rather domestic, how he’d hauled your brother from the floor to the couch and how he’d draped your blanket over the both of them.

the disney film is on pause as your brother babbles about his classmates, excitedly recounting yesterday’s events. you go to turn on the stove to prepare dinner and smile to yourself when your brother mentions the solar planet you had helped him make for his science fair. you smile even bigger when wonbin applauds him and makes him promise to show him one day, because he has to see how good you two are (his words).

when the water is boiling in the pot and you’ve stacked and pushed aside all your school work to prepare for dinner, you don’t directly realize you set the table for three until wonbin points it out, leaning casually against the fridge.

“i didn’t know i was invited for dinner.”

you shrug in an effort to act as casual as he is, but it comes off as rather stiff so you just turn away, mindlessly stirring the pasta. “well, i wouldn’t want you to starve. who else would my parents turn to when they’re in need of a babysitter?” certainly not me.

you’re clearly still a bit bitter that your parents don’t trust you to babysit your own brother.

wonbin just laughs, like he’s having the most fun knowing you’re irritated at him for replacing your “part-time job”. you send him a nasty glare and it only makes him chuckle more, obviously entertained by your displeasure.

he goes to lean on the counter next to you as he watches you do your magic, as per your brother’s words, and lightly bumps his elbow into yours. “c’mon, i know you’re not really mad at me for being here.”

you flick his crossed arms and check to see if the pasta is not overcooked. “i just don’t understand why they’d waste money to get a babysitter for him when i literally exist and live here!” okay, so maybe you’re not being hundred percent honest and are more pissed about the babysitter being wonbin than the waste of money but he doesn’t have to know that.

wonbin continues to stare at your face, tracing your side profile with his eyes. “i offered to babysit, and your dad knows i’ve been saving up for a car...” his smile is teasing when he shrugs as you send him a glare.

“and what if i was saving up for a car? you’d be ruining my chances to do so.” you’re stubborn and not letting go.

your neighbor, who’s actually way too close to you for your liking (you’re sure he can count your beauty marks with how close he is) stifles a laugh. “we both know you’re not saving up for a car,” his voice insists on the ‘not’ and you know he sees you rolling your eyes. “besides, you don’t need one.”

the pasta looks good as you go to grab two oven mitts, glancing at wonbin from the corner of your eye. you’re confused and he knows because not even a second later and he’s grabbing the oven mitts from your hands and carrying the pasta to the kitchen table. “i can always just drive you around, y’know. contrary to what you think, i do actually enjoy your presence, babe.”

when his words register in your brain, you can’t seem to move from your spot in the kitchen and wonbin finds it all too cute, smiling while ushering your little brother to sit at the end of the table.

babe. babe? “babe?” your fingers find wonbin’s hand, wrapping slowly around his wrist when he walks past you to get some glasses. he stops in his tracks, tilting his head a bit and smirking at your surprised gaze and vulnerable tone.

he just nods, the top of his cheeks blushing only for a fraction of a second. unbeknownst to you, his heart is beating like crazy. “shouldn’t i have called you that? you don’t like it?”

you shake your head, still startled from him calling you by an affectionate nickname, something he had never done before and something you would have never guessed he would ever do.

“It’s alright,” you say, voice suddenly shakier than usual, “i didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

your fingers let go of his wrist but he doesn’t directly move away, staring at the way your other hand is holding tightly onto the kitchen counter. he notices how you’re reaching for the utensils but your mind is focusing on something else, your fingers absentmindedly pulling the kitchen drawer open.

suddenly, wonbin feels a pang of guilt. he can’t seem to decipher what the expression on your face means but he’s worried he might have gone too far, or that you’re too far gone in your head.

“hey,” his voice startles you out of your thoughts, “are you sure it’s okay? i can stop if you want–”

“no!-” your panicked tone startles him a bit and you clear your throat, fiddling with one of the rings on your fingers, “i mean, i– i didn’t mind it? i quite liked it.”

wonbin’s eyes widen a bit, surprised but thrilled. “oh.”

“yeah.”

the short awkward silence between the two of you gets interrupted by your younger brother’s complaints, and you quickly move past wonbin to serve the youngest one in the house a big plate of spaghetti (his favorite).

it’s only when you’re seated at the table that you realize wonbin’s marched over and took your plate, serving you before him. he looks almost ethereal under the warm kitchen lights and you can’t help but stare, this time not caring about getting caught.

the pasta looks extra good when he puts your plate down in front of you and your stomach grumbles at the sight, earning a slight chuckle from the boy in front of you.

your baby brother’s focus is entirely on his dinosaur shaped fork, which wonbin takes as an opportunity to reach over the table and grab your hand, drawing a stifled gasp out of you. his thumb is rubbing circles on the back of your palm and your hand feels heavy but comfortable in his grasp.

your gaze travels from your intertwined fingers to his face and you almost melt at the soft look in his eyes. it almost looks like he’s in love.

he is, but you don’t know that. yet.

“let me take you out on a date, please.”

the way his voice gets stuck in his throat and his tone gets breathier tells you everything you have to know and you squeeze his hand lightly in a comforting manner. he anxiously bites the inside of his cheek while he waits for your answer and he’s glad you don’t see his leg bouncing up and down under the table.

“i would love to, wonbin.” your cheeks turn red and your lips automatically curl, revealing the smile wonbin likes so much.

the stress leaves his body the second the words leave your mouth and he suppresses a nervous laugh, free hand coming up to push his hair back.

“yeah?”

“of course,” your smile is contagious when you nod, “how could i say no to you?”

general taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @atrirose @haisuken

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[neferaskingdom]

♡ My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader [Angst]

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Summary: Max only breaks the things he loves, but Y/n likes being broken if it means they can be whole together.

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check out my other works: Masterlist

The night you met Max, he had just come off a win, drenched in adrenaline and glory. The world had been his that day, and when he noticed you across the room, something in his gaze sharpened. A fierce look, like he’d spotted his next victory. You should have known then, you suppose—that when he wanted something, he didn’t just take it; he consumed it, left marks on it. But that night, as you watched him approach with that half-smile, you were captivated.

You had spent the night laughing, letting him tell you stories about life in racing, about the whirlwind of pressure and grit. He had seemed lighter then, more open, willing to let you glimpse the parts of himself that no one else got to see. By the time you found yourself pressed against the hotel door, his lips brushing against yours, you were already falling for him.

“Come on,” he had murmured, that daring gleam in his eyes, fingers lacing with yours. “I know you’re as reckless as I am.”

And you were. Or at least you’d convinced yourself of that.

The next months were exhilarating. You followed him across the world, cheering him on from the sidelines, riding the highs and lows of his career. When things were good, they were perfect. He’d pull you into his arms after races, press his forehead against yours, and tell you, “Don’t let go of me.” You would laugh, tell him you wouldn’t even if you tried, because he had a way of making you feel like you were part of his victories, his journey. You saw it all: the determination, the stubbornness, the boyish grin that made him seem so much softer than he was.

But there were other sides to Max. Darker edges that you hadn’t seen at first, and they began to creep into your relationship like shadows 

After races where he didn’t win, or when things went wrong, he’d come back to you tense and closed-off. Those nights, he’d sit in silence, his jaw set, his eyes hard as he stared at nothing. You’d reach out to him, try to offer comfort, but he’d turn away, frustration and disappointment in every movement.

One night, after a particularly difficult race, he came back and barely looked at you. You tried to pull him into a hug, but he stiffened, pulling away.

“Max, talk to me,” you murmured, hurt by the distance. "I’m here.”

He let out a bitter laugh, looking anywhere but at you. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice low. “None of this. You don’t know what it’s like.”

The words stung, but you swallowed the pain. “I know it’s hard on you. I’m just trying to be here for you.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” he snapped, and there was a rawness to his voice, something wild and uncontained. “Maybe I don’t want you to be here every second. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Your heart sank, but you forced yourself to stand tall. “I’m not your babysitter, Max. I’m here because I love you.”

He glanced at you, and for a second, his expression softened, but just as quickly, he turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to face the vulnerability in his own eyes. “I… I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered, looking down. But he didn’t apologize, didn’t try to make it right. Instead, he just walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, wondering if this love you had was only breaking both of you.

The days that followed were strained, silent. You tried to talk to him, to tell him how much his words had hurt, but he shut you out, retreating into himself like a storm gathering strength. And then, as if nothing had happened, he came back, pulling you close, whispering sweet things in your ear, telling you he couldn’t bear to be without you. You told yourself it was enough. That he loved you, even if he didn’t always know how to show it.

But the cycles continued. One moment, you were his world, and the next, you were just someone in the way, someone he didn’t have time for. It was as if he was afraid to let you in completely, as if he thought you’d leave if you ever saw him fully. Yet, for all the moments he hurt you, there were just as many times he showed you a softness that made you stay.

On a quiet night, long after another race, he held you close, trailing his fingers along your arm, as if memorizing you by touch. “Sometimes… I think I’m too much,” he murmured, his voice vulnerable, almost boyish.

“Too much?” you echoed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.

He nodded, his gaze turning distant. “Too intense, maybe. I want things too badly, and… I don’t know if I can stop. I just keep pushing, keep wanting more, even when it feels like it’s costing me everything else.”

You reached out, taking his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Max, you don’t have to be everything all the time. You don’t have to be perfect for me to love you.”

For a moment, he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him anchored. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, and there was a sadness in his voice that broke your heart.

Maybe he knew even then that he was hurting you, that he was breaking you bit by bit. But he couldn’t stop, and you couldn’t let go.

One evening, after yet another rough race weekend, he came back to find you sitting in the bedroom, a packed suitcase beside you. You looked up at him, tears filling your eyes as you struggled to find the words.

He froze, his eyes darkening as he processed the sight of your things neatly packed. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Max… I can’t do this anymore,” you managed, your voice shaking. “I love you, but it feels like… like you’re always pushing me away. Every time I get close, you build these walls, and I’m left outside, trying to find my way back in.”

His fists clenched, his face contorting in pain. “So, what, you’re leaving? After everything?”

You swallowed, nodding slowly. “I don’t want to. But… Max, it’s like you don’t even want me to be here. One day you tell me you love me, and the next, you shut me out.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I know I do this. I don’t mean to hurt you, but… I don’t know how to be any other way.”

You took a shaky breath, stepping closer to him, reaching out one last time. “Maybe that’s the problem. You keep breaking the things you love most.”

He looked up at you, and for the first time, you saw tears in his eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then closed it, swallowing hard. He was silent, and the silence said more than words ever could.

You placed a hand on his cheek, your thumb tracing over his skin as you whispered, “I wish you could be whole. I wish… I wish you could love me without breaking us.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, his hand reaching up to cover yours. “I wish I could too,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I wish I could be better for you.”

For a moment, you stood there, holding each other in a painful, beautiful silence. And then you pulled away, picking up your suitcase. You didn’t look back as you walked to the door, the ache in your chest growing heavier with every step. But as you closed the door behind you, you knew it was the only way to find peace.

You leave that night, suitcase in hand and heart heavy. You think it’s the end, that the constant fractures in your relationship with Max have finally split you apart for good. You spend weeks trying to convince yourself you’re better off this way. You keep telling yourself that the pain is over, that the ache will ease.

But the ache doesn’t fade—it only sharpens with distance. And Max? He feels it too, that emptiness you left behind. He goes through the motions: the races, the parties, the applause. Yet, at the end of the day, he’s alone, haunted by memories of a love he couldn’t let himself hold without fear of shattering it.

It’s late one night when his name lights up your phone screen, a simple message that stops you in your tracks: “Are you awake?”

You stare at it, knowing you shouldn’t reply, that responding will only pull you back into his orbit. But your fingers move on their own, typing out, “Yeah.”

The next thing you know, he’s outside your door, looking like he’s barely slept. His voice is quiet as he speaks, almost tentative. “I thought I could do this,” he murmurs. “I thought you’d be better off.”

“You thought you’d be better off,” you correct gently, voice laced with pain and longing.

He nods, exhaling slowly. “I was wrong.”

You let him in, both of you filled with things left unsaid. That night, he holds you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish again. There’s a sadness between you, a knowing that you’re both drawn to something you can’t seem to keep but can’t bring yourselves to leave entirely. You tell yourself it’s the last time, but deep down, you know better.

Days stretch into weeks, and you both try to make things work. There’s laughter, the way he holds you close after each race, whispering promises of change. And for a while, you feel whole again.

But, eventually, the same cracks reappear. Arguments simmer, quiet disappointments surface, and you’re left feeling like two broken pieces that can’t quite fit together. You know his heart, his dreams, but his intensity is overwhelming, something fierce and untamed, and you’re left with pieces of a love that never quite held.

One evening, in the midst of another argument, you find yourself saying, “Maybe… maybe we’re better off alone.”

Max looks at you, his eyes flashing with hurt, but he doesn’t fight you this time. Instead, he nods slowly. “Maybe.”

And so, you leave again, pulling the door shut and walking away. Yet, each time you close that door, each time you think it’s the last, it only takes a few weeks before one of you reaches out, before you find yourselves standing in front of each other, tired, bruised, but still unable to let go.

It becomes a cycle. A dance of love and hurt, where neither of you knows how to stop the breaking, but neither of you can bear the thought of living without each other. You try to convince yourselves, time and again, that maybe you’d both be better off if you left. But deep down, you both know it’s a lie. You’re his favorite kind of heartbreak, the one thing he keeps coming back to, even though he knows he’ll only hurt you again.

And you? You’re no different. Each time he calls, each time he tells you he needs you, you let yourself believe that maybe this time, things will be different. Because for all the breaking and all the pain, you know that neither of you are better off without the other. You’re both broken, both bruised, but maybe—just maybe—you’re each other’s only way to feel whole.

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[bluebelleisabelle]

Free G3 Monster High Episodes (to be continued)

SEASON 1

1. The Monstering or option 2 (for those who may not have access to the Nick website)

2. Food Fight or option 2 (for those who may not have access to the YouTube channel)

3. Unfinished Brain-ness or option 2 (for those who may not have access to the YouTube channel)

4. Case of the Moondays or option 2

5. Portrait of a Monster or option 2

6. Witch Hitch

7. Part of the Pack

8. That Thing You Deuce or option 2 (preferred option, as it’s through an official medium)

9. Werewolf Weekend or option 2 (same information as #8)

10. Paw-zzle Pieces or option 2 (same information as #8)

11. Nightmare Nightmore or option 2 (same information as #8)

12. Out of Step or option 2 (same information as #8)

13. Pyramid Scheme or option 2 (same information as #8)

14. What’s Up, Watzie?

15. So Familiar

16. Crushed

17. Over Bro-tective

18. Horoscare

19. Flaunt Your Skeleton

20. Creepover Party

21. Creature Clash

22. Monster Movie

23. Earworm

24. Spell the Beans

25. Growing Ghoulia

26. Casketball Jinx (same link as above)

27. Cleo in the Kitchen

28. Case of the Missing Squeak (same link as above)

29. Pet Problems

30. License to Rock (same link as above)

31. Power Heist

32. Monster Midterms

33. Fur-mergency

34. Boogey Nightmare (same link as above)

35. Best Fiends

36: Scareer Day (same link as above)

37. Stone Alone

38. Horsin’ Around (same link as above)

39. Moonlit Fieldtrip

40. A Little Boost (same link as above)

41. Fresh Waters Run Deep

42. Sew Fierce

43. Witchful Thinking

44. Monster Match

45. The Monster Way

SEASON 2

1. Rule School

2. New Witch in Town

3. Play It Again, Clawd (same link as above)

4. Mummy in the Mirror (part of the beginning is missing; the first few minutes can be found in this video)

5. How to Scare a Banshee (same link as above)

6. So Chill

7. Mixed Up Meowlody

8. The Haunted Sand Castle Caper

9. Fangs for the Memories

10. Two-Riffic

11. Monster High-Jinks

12. Vamps Just Wanna Have Fun (same link as above)

13. The Babysitter’s Crypt

14. Humans in Highschool (same link as above)

15. Dawn of the Dread

16. Frankie Patrol (same link as above)

17. The Deuce Date

18. Big Paw, Little Paw (same link as above)

19. Ghoulishly Ghoul-ma

20. Gill to the Rescue (same link as above)

21. Oh Rats

22. Fired Up (same link as above)

23. The Shapeshiftian Candidate

[bruciemilf]

Baby! Spider Socorro HCs (good parent Jake and Neytiri edition)

Called Jake “Mr. Silly” for the first 3 years of his life; That’s his name on all medical files, now. Mo’at calls him that when he’s being an idiot.

Often wondered through the jungle by himself. Max and Norm were often too engrossed in their work to notice the little bundle of energy and sunshine was gone, and that’s how Jake appointed himself as babysitter.

Pretended not to know trivial information just to have Spider explain it to him, and pretended to be impressed/shocked all the time. “Ikrans can fly?! No way!” “Pandora has stars at night? I didn’t know that!”

Contrary to popular belief, — Na’vi kids and teens love Spider; They play chase, hide and seek, make sure he doesn’t fall off trees, and give him jelly fish snacks when they see him.

After all, they can smell their Toruk Makto on him; It only makes sense.

All these gifts are taken straight to Neytiri. That baby is obsessed with her. He’s so shy and red cheeks and hides behind Jake’s legs when he hands her these presents.

To her frustration, it’s very adorable.

“Tiri? I brought you bebbies.”

She takes a very slow breath. “Berries.”

“And fishies.”

“Fish.”

“ yah ^^ they’re sweet ^^ from the pond ^^”

Slow breath in. Slow breath out. “…thank you.”

Jake brings Spider for dinner once. Then twice. Then once a week. Then, everyday. It’s become a pattern.

“Sweet,” he says, pointing to the fish he caught for them, tiny little things roasting next to the actual dinner. Jake smiles, “Yeah, honey, it’s sweet.” “Ha-ne?”

“It’s a term of endearment you use for people you love. Isn’t that right, honey?” He asks Neytiri, who’s cleaning knives and fixing him with a sweet look.

“Choke.”

Spider points to Jake, then to Neytiri, bright voice giggly, “Honey! Honey, honey honey.”

Someone get Jake a box of tissues that man is CRYING constantly. On his hands and knees begging Neytiri to let him keep Spider around. He’s so CUTE.

“Please?”

“He needs to be with his kind.”

“He HAS no kind. “

Baby Spider who’s barely bigger than Jake’s forearm, following him everywhere, trying to fish, hunt, fight, etc??? He so badly wants to be a mini Jake, gives that man baby fever fr fr

Refuses to get his hair cut; Everytime Norm brings it up, the little sunshine gets this unmoving look in his eyes. “I want to look like Mr. Silly.”

Drew his blue stripes himself; a powerful movement of compassion and strange affection hits Neytiri straight in the chest when she sees it. It’s then, she realizes, perhaps not all sky people earned her ire.

Made a shifty if not janky bow for himself. The string is too loose, the arrowheads are choppy, the wood too skinny. Neytiri takes it upon herself to fix it.

Fiercely protective Jake.

No, honestly, just turn yourself over to the RDA if you upset Spider in anyway. They’d be worlds kinder than him. Jake “try me bitch” Sully wouldn’t lay down belly up if his baby’s threatened

[lessi-lover]

golden girl II m.earps x reader

★ golden girl II m.earps x reader

"you look gorgeous, baby." you tried your best to convince mary. "i don't think i should go," she choked out, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. "no my love, nobody deserves this award as much as you do." you gently kissed away her threatening tears. delicately taking her larger hands into your own, you guided her to the large mirror in your room.

"what if I'm not enough?" she asked, her voice almost breaking.

"most talented woman i know, my golden girl." you praised, whilst lightly kissing each of her fingers. you saw her hesitate for a moment as if she was fighting a battle in her mind to believe your sincere words before she took a deep breath and turned around. now facing you, mary grinned from ear to ear. looking down into your eyes with so much love, that you felt your knees almost buckle.

"you're right, darling." she responded, after a while. "and even if i don't win this award... i know I've won the two most amazing girls in the world." she referred to your baby girl, - sage, and your heart panged with adoration, eyes now tearful at her words.

"speaking of the little one, her babysitters should be arriving, right about -." the doorbell began ringing incessantly, a rapid amount of chimes that seemed to echo the cheekiness of your to good friends, - ella and alessia.

leaving mary, you went to answer the door whilst she woke your little girl from her afternoon slumber. you couldn't help but smile, as you opened the door only to be greeted by the sight of the two girls, decked in animal onesies, with fun, promising smiles plastered on both their faces.

as they entered your home, they immediately barrelled into you with a big hug. both their arms wrapped tightly around you, almost lifting you off your feet. "careful with the wife ladies, she just had a baby," a familiar voice spoke behind you. as the girls' arms gently let go, your waist was then again enveloped by another set of arms, this time belonging to mary.

in your wife's arms, lay a half-asleep sage, her eyes sparkled when she caught sight of her two favourite people, (well apart from you and Mary of course). "auntie el! auntie less!" your daughter called out, her voice now a mix of sleepiness and excitement.

alessia and ella's faces lit up at the sound of sage's voice. "our little star!" ella said in a whisper, sneaking up to playfully tickle sage's stomach, whilst alessia reached out and gently tussled her messy hair. the sleepy child let out a string of giggles, as she tried to push away ella's hands.

you watched mary with a fond smile. her love for sage was a fierce and passionate just as much as her love for the pitch.

"are you ready for a fun night with auntie el and auntie less?!" alessia exclaimed, sporting a cheeky grin. sage responded by extending her arms out to both the girls, clearly eager to engage in any fun they had planned for her. "i'm sure she is," you said, pecking your little girl on the nose and lightly pinching her rosy cheeks, eliciting yet another loud giggle from sage.

ella gently put her back on the floor, beaming with excitement, but slightly nervous about her babysitting duties. alessia and ella were the first people ever to look after sage, apart from both your mums.

"remember bed by eight, and no sugar after dinner." mary instructed the younger girls, her tone firm but warm. she then knelt down to sage's level, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear. "and you be good for alessia and ella, young lady." sage nodded in response, stretching out her pinky to seal the deal. mary chuckled, linking her finger with the girl, before squeezing her sides and kissing her head.

'call us if you need anything, right girls?" mary spoke, glancing at the girls, who were clearly already distracted by sage's intense description of her latest preschool adventure. "yes, mary. now go lovebirds!" alessia said, before once again ensuring Mary they would have everything under control.

mary now satisfied enough, turned to you. "lets not keep the night waiting, shall we?" interlocking your hands together, she pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. "good luck!" both girls said in unison, holding up your little girl as they waved goodbye from the front door.

~

as the evening unfolded, alessia, ella and sage now embarked on an adventurous journey. your once neat living room was now transformed into what could only be described as a pillow fortress. cushions and blankets had been gathered from all corners of the house, each piece carefully picked by sage, for it's essential role in the castle.

alessia and ella fully immersed themselves in the childish game, embracing their roles as the castle's valiant protectors. sage's imagination took over, and none other than her teddy bear was the 'villain' of the story, a mischievous bear named sir. fluffy, which sage had warned her babysitters that he was determined to steal their precious castle treasure.

as the game progressed, sir. fluffy, (operated by sage herself) made several attempts to swipe the precious treasure, only to be 'captured' successfully by alessia, who declared dramatically, "no villainous creature shall defy the guardians of this castle!" sage's laughter flowed loudly through the house, the three girls giggling hysterically on the couch.

when the game reached its end, sage decided that sir, fluffy had in fact learned his lesson, and could be forgiven. the bear was then 'knighted' by queen sage and became an honorary protector of the castle, much to alessia and ella's amusement. the girls then lay down on the couch, breathless to say the least, the two babysitters exhausted from their impromptu adventure.

"how about some dinner, queen sage?" asked ella, her face concerned at how she had lost the time during the game. sage nodded enthusiastically, her small brain having long forgotten the game, now only interested in what dinner might include.

opening the fridge, alessia caught sight of a small container, with the label, "for sage <3" written neatly on top. grabbing the food, she emptied it into a bowl, before tucking it into the microwave.

meanwhile, ella kept you entertained with a short game of "guess who: lionesses edition". as ella desperately tried to guess her teammates, sage found it quite easy to give clues about her aunties, her mothers having brought her to camp a fair amount of times.

"dinner's ready!" alessia yelled from the kitchen, offering sage a bowl of spaghetti pasta. sage immediately dug into her food, her babysitters having to tell her to slow down or she would get a tummy ache.

once sage was finished, alessia took her bowl to the kitchen, cleaning it in the sink, before grabbing some snacks for a movie ella and she had planned. ella picked sage up, throwing her up in her arms before crashing them both onto the couch. sage shrieked, arms wrapping tightly around her neck, as they both giggled excitedly.

"so what are we thinking? beauty and the beast, moana, the little mermaid, rapunzel?" alessia asked, flicking through different options on the tv. not missing a single beat, sage excitedly screamed out, "the little mermaid!" she raised her short arms eagerly above her head.

popcorn, jelly snakes, chocolate freckles, and cookies were spread out in bowls on the table, sage's small hands sneaking snacks every so often, although both girls were aware of her little 'hidden stash'. as the movie played, alessia, sage, and ella sang happily to the lyrics of each number, neither one of the babysitters missing the glint in the little girl's eyes whenever sebastian, the crab came on screen.

halfway through the movie, sage snuggled her small body between the two older girls, grabbing at their hoodies in her tiny grasp. her eyes began to flutter shut, sleep taking over her tired body. alessia took notice of this, checking to see her best friend still enamored with the children's movie playing on the screen.

"el." she whispered, trying to gain the girl's attention without waking her up. "what's wrong?" the brunette asked, tearing her eyes away from the bright screen. "look at the poor girl, she's fallen asleep on you," alessia responded, her thumb coming to rub up and down your small frame. grinning the girls took a photo, before sending it to mary.

~

mary sat anxiously in her seat, her palms sweaty and knee bouncing up and down erratically. next to her, you sat calmly, moving your hand to sweetly lay on her thigh, gently pausing her nervous movement. she smiled appreciatively, moving her larger hands to rest on top of yours, letting you know you were helping more than you could know.

as the event started to commence, you interlaced your fingers with hers. The tension in the air was intense, collective anticipation steamed from every corner of the room.

around you, sat some of the best athletes to walk the Earth. however, you felt in your heart that a special someone deserved this award, although that special someone would never believe you, no matter how hard you tried.

as greetings were dished out, you could feel your wife's tension slowly subsiding, instead replaced by self-appreciation for how far she had come. the small glance you shared with mary were filled with gratitude and love, a silent conversation that spoke volumes about the journey you had been through together. the journey that didn't stop tonight, whether she was to win the award or not.

mary's focus was entirely on you. the award, which had been at the forefront of her mind all night, gradually faded into the background, her eyes solely on you. her hands relaxed, her smile became more genuine, and the tenseness in her face became less strained.

then, unexpectedly, amid a shared smile, the moment arrived. the presenter's voice cut through the noise of the room, announcing the winner of the BBC Sports Personality of the Year Award.

time seemed to pause as mary's name echoed through the hall.

for a split second, there was a look of disbelief on mary's face, a flicker of surprise that didn't mirror your own. her gaze met yours, a sea of emotions dancing in her eyes – shock, relief, and hint of overwhelming realization. as applause erupted around you, you gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze, a silent message of pride and love.

"my golden girl." you said proudly, a look of true pride in your eyes.

mary rose to her feet, her movement still carrying a hint of disbelief. But as she stepped towards the stage, there was a growing confidence in her stride, a recognition of her outstanding achievements throughout the year and the heartfelt journey that had brought her to this moment.

your heart swelled with pride, watching her accept her well-deserved award and your eyes brimmed with happy tears for how far the girl had come. this was her moment, a shining display of recognition for something she so richly deserved.

lifting up the trophy, mary and you made eye contact, the blonde blowing you a kiss that you knew you would get teased by relentlessly for later.

~

after a memorable night at the award ceremony, you and mary quietly headed home eager to see your little girl again. the evening had been a success, but now, you couldn't wait to see Sage's reaction to mary's trophy and hear the next day about her time with alessia and ella.

as you gently pushed open the front door, you expected to see the two younger girls chatting on the sofa. instead, you were greeted with a heartwarming sight.

there, on the couch in a tangle of limbs and soft blankets, lay alessia, ella, and, to your surprise, sage, fast asleep. the living room was dimly lit by the fairy lights that they had obviously set up, casting a gentle, soothing glow on their faces.

you shared a look of mild amusement and slight exasperation with your wife. sage was clearly meant to be in bed, and by the looks of the empty sweet wrappers on the coffee table, the 'no sweets after dinner' rule had been enthusiastically ignored. yet, seeing them all there, so peaceful and content, it was hard to stay angry when they looked so peaceful.

with a silent chuckle, mary whispered, "so much for rules, huh?" Her voice was soft, filled with warmth, mixed with a slight irritation for the mischievous younger girls, but it was okay, - she'd get them back in training anyway.

carefully, so as not to wake your little girl, you both quietly approached the couch. mary gently scooped up sage, cradling her in her arms. you quietly picked up the stray sweet wrappers and straightened up the room a bit, all the while watching mary carry sage to her bedroom.

in sage's room, mary gently tucked the little girl into bed, arranging her pillows and pulling the covers up to her chin. you both took your turns kissing her forehead, before silently turning off the lights. you both stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically in the quiet of the room.

you both couldn't believe how lucky you were to call sage your own.

as you both retreated from sage's room, you made your way back to the living room. before gently laying a warm blanket over the two older girls, chuckling at the identical drool dripping from both their mouths. you both sat next to alessia and ella on the couch, sighing at their poor babysitting skills. you did your best to cover your laughs at the mess they had made of your house in only a few hours.

"seems, like we have three children now." mary joked, although you knew she referred to the two girls as her 'unwanted children', the both of them constantly begging for advice from the older woman, they really did love you both.

making your way to your own bedroom, you settled into bed with a comfortable silence taking over the room. you snuggled your body close to the blonde, her hand subconsciously combing through your hair. "I love you," mary's voice broke the silence. "thank you for everything you do for me. i couldn't have won without you." she admitted, lips pressing softly against your temple.

"i love you too, mary." you tucked your head into the crook of her neck.

"my golden girl."