#have you ever heard the shit toddlers say

[wttcsms]

triple trouble, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1.6k synopsis atsumu steals every reporters' attention as he introduces the media to his triplets during a post-game interview; or, more accurately, his triplets steal all the attention. like father, like sons. content contains domestic fluff, dad!atsumu, atsumu & reader are married and so in love, babies, mention of pregnancy more in this collection!

The flashes of cameras going off, the constant exclamations of “Miya! Miya!” coming from the crowd of journalists and reporters all vying for his attention, the fact that the foldout chairs they use for all these post-game interviews are harder on your ass than falling on asphalt — all of this is being handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

Or, normally all of this would be handled with ease by a smug Atsumu Miya.

But right now, the Atsumu Miya struggling to take a seat in the most uncomfortable chair known to man, dyed hair a mess, his usual trademark smirk replaced by furrowed brows and a look of concentration, doesn’t appear to be the godlike adversary on the court. In fact, he looks oddly human. 

The cause of what has humbled this cocky athlete and reduced him to mere mortal man are the three chubby toddlers he’s cradling in his arms. 

All of them are identical, from their chubby cheeks to their little grubby hands. Heads full of thick, dark brown hair (reminiscent of their father’s natural color) poke out from Atsumu’s hold, and the eighteen-month-olds’ eyes are all full of childlike wonder as they watch the crowd, confused as to who all these people are. 

After finally getting settled into his seat, Atsumu addresses the crowd casually, as if he didn’t spend the last two minutes ensuring that his baby boys weren’t going to slip from his arms while he tried to prepare for this interview. Akimitsu is secured in his left arm, Akihiko in the right, leaving poor Akinari to cling onto Atsumu’s neck. 

While athletes have been getting more comfortable with bringing their kids up on stage with them, no one has ever seen a professional athlete haul his three babies with him. 

A fact that one reporter is more than happy to point out.

“Miya, wife put you on babysitting duty?” A male journalist calls out from the crowd. A few chuckles follow, but Atsumu just smiles at the mention of you.

“Nah. It’s not babysittin’ if they’re your damn kids, right? Besides, she deserves a break.” A few appreciative murmurs flutter through the crowd. 

After the initial surprise of seeing identical triplets being carried in the MSBY Black Jackals’ setter’s arms, the reporters are back to business as usual. They’re all professionals — even if hearing Atsumu give them a great quote to use as a hook (“I respect Nakamura as a human bein’ but calling him a setter for a professional league volleyball team is an insult to setters everywhere.”) is followed by him cooing sweet words of affirmation to whichever of his sons happens to be babbling in his ears. 

“Nakamura isn’t a very good player, is he, Akihiko?” No one outside of your family and his teammates have ever heard Atsumu sound so affectionate. His words are practically coated in sugar, and it’s hard to remember that he’s insulting another player in the league whenever he’s practically bumping noses with his toddler son when he says it. 

Akihiko, most likely due to his father’s influence, lets out a stream of enthusiastic gurgles that Atsumu automatically translates to him being in complete agreement with him. 

“Write that down.” He says to the crowd. “Even my baby knows he’s shit at the game.” 

There’s a few more minutes of Atsumu answering the usual post-game questions, but halfway through one of his responses, Akinari loses his grip on Atsumu’s neck and is about to tumble to the floor before Atsumu’s reflexes kick in. You’ve made a joke once that you think Atsumu’s reflexes have become heightened after becoming a father; his athletic instincts have merged with the famous “dad reflexes” all fathers seem to be gifted with. (Atsumu tells reporters that this is why he keeps on becoming a better player; people think his family would hold him back, but once again, family is his greatest blessing.)

“Ya gotta hang onto me, buddy.” Atsumu can’t even pretend to be stern when he tells this to Akinari, who only smiles at him and exclaims something unintelligible. He shifts Akinari to his left arm, relaxes back in his seat, and is even excited to answer a question concerning his play style compared to Tobio Kageyama’s, but as he readjusts the two boys in his arms, Atsumu can’t help but startle at the fact that he has three kids. Not just two. 

Momentarily panicked, he almost wants to ask why the hell no one told him one of his kids jumped ship but then he feels a tug on the bottom hem of his volleyball shorts. 

Peering under the table, Atsumu is greeted with the sight of Akimitsu’s mischievous little face. He’s the oldest of the three and takes after Atsumu the most — meaning, he’s the cutest little nightmare there could ever be. 

“Whatcha doin’ under the table, Mitsu?” Atsumu asks, and Akimitsu gives out a happy, gleeful shriek. He’s clapping his grubby hands together and cheering. 

“Dada found me!” 

“I did find ya, buddy.” Atsumu coos. “Now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap?” 

After wrangling up all his kids once more, Atsumu sighs and looks up at the timer in front of him. 

“I have enough time for one more question.” He tells the crowd.

“Are you excited to get out of here and get back home to the wife?” 

“I’m always happy to come home to [Name]. If there’s a professional league for motherhood, she’s going into the hall of fame. I don’t know how she handles these fools by herself all day.” 

Akihiko takes a tiny, chubby hand and smacks Atsumu in the face. Repeatedly. 

“Home! Home!” His slaps get slightly more aggressive, but Atsumu’s received some serves with his face before, so it doesn’t really phase him. “Home! Mama!” 

“Well, you heard the man.” Atsumu actually gives a genuine smile for the cameras. “We gotta head home.”

You’re applying your moisturizer in the bathroom despite the mirror being fogged up from the hot shower. It’s probably why you don’t anticipate strong arms wrapping themselves around your body, and you gasp before your muscle memory recognizes him. Your body easily relaxes against his, and you’re smiling as you ask your husband, 

“Had a good day today?”

“We took ‘em in two straight sets. Slaughtered the other team to the point where it wasn’t even fair.” He angles his head just right so he can kiss you on the cheek, but you gently slap him away.

“I’m putting on moisturizer right now.”

“Great. My lips are dry.” He goes in for another kiss, and even though you’re giggling, trying to pull away from him, he still plants a peck on your soft skin. “Should I go for seconds, just for good measure?” He teases.

“Hmm, I guess so.” 

“Oh? What’s with the change? Realize how much you can’t live without my touch?” He pulls you in closer to him, your back pressed firmly against his chest. He’s fresh out the shower, stray droplets of water greedily clinging onto his skin. 

“Maybe.” You tilt your head back on the front of his shoulder so that you can see him. “You know your interview is trending on Twitter, right?” 

“Oh, yeah? Bet Nakamura’s pissed.” Atsumu sounds too happy at the concept. 

“No. There’s actually an interesting clip that keeps going around. Someone already used it as an intro for a thirst edit of you.” 

You like it when Atsumu is thinking. There’s an adorable crease in between his furrowed brows, and you can practically see him going through the memory files in his brain, trying to figure out what could possibly be worthy of inspiring an edit of him. 

“You seriously don’t know?” You’re laughing at him, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. Atsumu doesn’t take kindly to being the butt of a joke, but from the moment he saw you, he knew he’d do anything to stay by your side, even becoming a fucking court jester if that’s what it took. 

You reach for your phone on the counter, taking a few seconds to load up the fan edit you have favorited. 

He’s burying his face in your hair, hiding away as he hears the audio of him going now why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap playing on a loop. He groans when you let it replay, uncharacteristically shy as you keep telling him to watch it. 

“The comments are the best part, though, baby!” You haven’t been able to stop giggling at jackingthejackalsoff’s very bold and very true statement of yeah, if i were [name], i’d pop out triplets for him too tf 😭🙏.  

As Atsumu’s hands travel to rest against the growing swell of your belly, you tease him. “So, when the twins are born, do you think you’ll have enough space in your arms to haul all five of our kids, or should we finally use that baby chest carrier Shoyo gifted us?” 

“I can carry all of ‘em and you onto that stage.” He regrets making this smug remark whenever you slightly drop your teasing tone and use what he dubs The Mom Voice on him.

“Oh? If that’s true, then why did it take you so long to realize Akimitsu crawled out of your arms while you were busy calling your opponents scrubs?” 

“Have I ever told you what a wonderful mother you are? And this moisturizer! Wow, I don’t know what you’ve been doing with your skin, baby, but keep it up.” He’s peppering your face with more kisses, hurriedly trying to change the subject, and you gladly let him.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesn’t find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)

Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)

Worst Day Ever

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader

CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD

WC: ~1100

“This is the worst day ever.”

Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. “You sound like a toddler.”

Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. “What does she see in that dirtbag?” he makes a face of disgust.

“I guess she sees his abs.” Natasha shrugs.

Bradley gives her a flat look. “Not you too.”

“What?” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m not denying that he’s got a shit personality.” She glances over at you and Jake. “But he’s easy on the eyes, what can I say?”

“Maybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,” Bradley muses.

“Dude, we’re in the military.” Natasha shakes her head. “Push ups are not going to impress her.”

“But his abs did the trick?”

Natasha purses her lips. “Have you seen him flex?”

“Maybe you should bag him,” Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea!”

“No,” Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.

“C’mon, Trace. I will owe you.” Bradley trails after her. “I will pay you.”

Natasha stops just short of the door. “To do what?”

“We’ll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman –”

“No,” Natasha repeats, exiting the room.

“I thought you had my back!” Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.

“Someone leave you hangin’, Rooster?” Jake asks playfully as he walks by.

Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that you’re walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly – for the first time ever – and then glances back at Jake irritably. “Don’t worry, Bagman. That’s still your undisputed domain.”

Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.

“Hey Bagman!” Natasha calls from down the hall.

Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.

“You guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?” she asks casually.

Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesn’t respond right away.

That’s when you say, “Sure! We’ll be there!”

…

“Drink as much as you want, Phoenix,” Bradley says giddily. “It’s on me.”

“You bet your ass it is,” Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. “I’m going to need it.”

Bradley doesn’t have a chance to laugh because that’s when you and Jake enter the bar.

The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natasha’s table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.

“Hey!” Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.

Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.

“How’s it going?” you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear they’re the three sweetest words he’s ever heard in his life.

“Great,” he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.

“So good,” Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. “I need a refill.”

Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. “What’re you drinking?” he asks.

Natasha grimaces at him. “I can get my own beer,” she responds, also getting up.

Jake gives her a phony grin. “I guess you’re used to it,” he bites back.

You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. “Be nice,” you warn him.

Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that you’re familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time you’ve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl who’s more or less spoken for.

You smile at him. “Yeah, thanks for the invite!”

“Of course,” Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.

“Jake’s pretty excited.”

Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake who’s at the bar with Natasha. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”

You laugh. “Oh, he’s far too ‘badass’ to show it.”

Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. “I like you,” he says before he can stop himself.

You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.

“I mean it,” he says.

You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. “Your low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,” you say.

Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. “You saw that?”

“It was hard to miss.” You cringe slightly. “Cyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.”

Bradley winces. “Yeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.” He lets out a chuckle.

You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.

Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I don’t know what you and Bagman have going on –”

“Umm,” you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because he’s fairly certain you’re about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, “You know he’s my brother, right?”

Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, “Shut the fuck up.”

You start laughing. “What did you think?”

Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. “That’s why you like him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter sarcastically.

Bradley nearly chokes. “You’re hilarious,” he says.

You lean into the table toward him. “And you’re cute.”

Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. “I’m so glad you think so.”

“Alright kids,” Bradley hears Jake’s voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. “We’re gonna call it a night.”

“What? Already?” Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natasha’s hand. “Oh,” Bradley adds, meeting Natasha’s gaze with an amused grin. “Well, this is turning out to be an alright day.”

Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.

“Bradshaw,” Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, “You have yourself a good night, Seresin.”

Rooster Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments.

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[forlix]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Jello Incident

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: You come home from work and tell Quinn all about the jello incident at school and then fall asleep on him.

Notes: For the sake of my American audience I have changed Jelly to Jello...um, life imitates art or something like that?

Honestly this is a silly little fluffy fic because sometimes life throws you events that inspire you and sometimes (all the time) you just want to write cute shit.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

The only thing you want as you trail in from a long day of teaching is to take your shoes off and curl up on the couch next to your boyfriend. It's why you're so quick to drop your bag at the front door, very little consideration for the work laptop inside or your water bottle that gives a loud clank. You're practically kicking your shoes off half way down the hallway, one kicked off so hard it goes flying and hits the wall beside Quinn's stupid painting of a monkey with headphones on, before making your way to the couch where Quinn is watching a hockey game, what looks to be a rerun of his most recent game actually. Probably trying to figure out what went wrong and what went right.

"Hey, baby," He greets you as you press a kiss to the top of his hair on your way past the back of the couch, smiling at the familiar gesture, arms already open and ready for you to join him, the game far less interesting than you and your day. Especially after the third run through of it. He's watched it so many times he's not even sure he's comprehending what's happening anymore.

"Hi..." you sigh out, flopping down on top of Quinn on the couch, face pressing into the crook of his neck as his arms come to wrap around you, running over your back in soothing motions.

"Rough day?" He huffs out a laugh as you almost crush him into the couch, not that he'd ever complain about having you on top of him. An ideal way to die to be honest, being smothered by his girlfriend. At least he'd die happy.

"Nggghh," You groan out into his neck, wondering how on earth you were going to explain your day because, "There was a jello incident..." You lift your head to look at him and Quinn's look of confusion, one brow raised, green eyes a little wide says it all. It's how you felt at walking in to the situation itself. Baffled. How does one even begin to explain a jello incident, how on earth did you even get involved in a jello incident when you taught teenagers not toddlers...

"A...a jello incident?"

"Yeah...." You press your cheek against his chest, settling in to recount your day, "There was a sub next door and...I heard him screaming at the kids, so obviously I decided to go make sure everything was okay..." A stupid decision really...you should have remembered the age old adage of 'not my circus, not my monkeys' it would have saved you a ridiculous amount of stress.

"And jello factors into this how?" Quinn twists one of his legs with yours, locking you closer against him as his fingers start to scratch over your scalp in a soothing pattern.

"Would you believe me if I told you the grade 7s had decided to throw pots of jello at each other in Religious Studies? And some of it hit the sub...and I had to take 3 kids into my room as punishment and..." You can't help the way you snort and the thought of it because...fuck, it's ridiculous.

"And?"

"And one of them was sat there with jello on his shoulder the entire time!" You can still picture it, a 12 year old sat with bright pink jello blobs wobbling on his shoulder and cheek because he hadn't bothered to clear it up, proof of his guilt physically on him.

"And you didn't laugh?"

"No, I didn't laugh!" You laugh along with Quinn, mouth pressed into his hoodie while you look up at him from where you're lying on his chest. His own laugh has you bouncing slightly as his chest rises and falls and it doesn't help you to try to take the situation seriously.

"I'd have laughed, baby, sorry."

"That's why you're not a teacher, Quinn..." You roll your eyes even though you know he'd actually make an excellent teacher if he ever decided hockey wasn't for him anymore. He had the patience for it, the calm temperament and steadfast approach.

"Hey! I'd be a great teacher...maybe..."

"Keep telling yourself that." You sigh out, letting the silence fall over the two of you, just enjoying the sound of his heart beating steadily beneath your ear, the feel of his fingers running through your hair, trimmed nails scraping across your scalp and the back of your neck.

You hum as your eyes start to close, feeling like you might fall asleep right there like that with Quinn's warmth against you, the sound of a hockey game playing in the background, Shortie singing Quinn's praises again.

"You wanna watch a movie and cuddle?" He mumbles into your hair, snuggling you closer to him as he reaches for the remote.

"I might fall asleep, the jello incident has me wiped.." your eyes are barely open, feeling like you might drop off at any moment. Not helped by how warm Quinn is, how utterly comfortable it is to lie on him like this.

"That's okay, baby, you can fall asleep on me. I don't mind." He huffs out a laugh, watching the way your eyes blink open as if you're shocking yourself awake every few seconds. You're adorable as you try your best to refuse to nod off, determined to stay awake for Quinn.

"You sure?" You lift your head again with some effort, taking in the soft smile Quinn sends your way, the genuine affection in his eyes.

"Certain, baby..." You plop your head back down on his chest at the reassurance, snuggling closer and letting your eyes close properly this time, "Dune Part 1?"

"Dune Part 1." You mumble even though you both know you're going to be asleep in less than half an hour.

If he's being honest there are few things Quinn likes more than you falling asleep on him or around him. There's something about it, the complete display of trust and comfort, that you're so comfortable around him that you can just fall straight asleep, that fills him with a sense of masculine pride. It's what has him reaching for the blanket on the back of the couch, pulling it over your back so you don't get cold. It's what has him slipping his hand under your shirt, tracing small circles into the warmth of your skin, the sort of circles that always help you drift off. It's what has him keeping the volume of the movie low because he's not really watching it anyway, he's watching you.

He spends most of the movie just watching the way you breathe against him, slow and even, so deeply asleep that you start to drool a little on him. He knows you'd hate him to see that, but he finds it adorable, a compliment really that you can sleep that deeply around him.

Every now and then you shuffle and twist in your sleep, strands of hair falling into your face and each time he pushes them out of the way, tucking them behind your ears so that they don't annoy you in your sleep.

He wants this, he thinks, for the rest of his life. You coming home from a mad day of teaching, some ridiculous story on your lips, him holding you close while you drift off, being the comfort, the safety you deserve at the end of a long day. Maybe eventually a couple of kids, tucked in besides you, him shushing them so that mommy doesn't wake up. Maybe a dog, or a cat, you always said you wanted a cat...

Yeah, he thinks this might be the sort of normal that he wants for the rest of his life.

[robo-writing]

Sometimes I sit here and think about baby Logan, you know the one from the first X-men movie? With the grey hoodie? Yeah that baby Logan. Anyway, I think about Deadpool pulling worst Logan into more time shinaganen shit and of course worst Logan’s gf (who was his gf in his last universe but of course died during the attack, but this one either never met her universe Logan or something) and somehow, she runs into baby first Xmen Logan wearing the grey hoodie and running around clueless as where the hell he is, until he bumps into a surprisingly pretty woman who for some reason is cooing over him and calling him a precious baby,(and did she just pspspspsps at me?? I’m not a fucking cat? No the hair doesn’t look like cat ears?! The hell wrong with you lady?!) and he only gets her name before a older version of him in a gaudy yellow suit shows up to grab her and take her away, grumbling about having to keep track of two overgrown toddlers while a mouthy guy in a red leather suit says some stupid shit before following after the older version of Logan into some strange portal. Of course soon after baby Logan gets found by Xavier and when he ask who the woman named y/n is, Xavier just looks at him confused. (Of course perhaps that Logan will meet y/n a few years down the road, or he never sees her again, a shame really, she was quiet a looker, despite being so weird, he can stand being called a baby or a kitten by her again)

Waking up in a strange building is one thing, but walking out of an elevator to find a woman starting him down is another—especially when she keeps calling him kitty.

“Oh my god, look at you! You’re so young!” Her voice is high-pitched, oohing and ahhing at him like some kind of attraction. Maybe it’d piss him off more if you didn’t look so cute doing it.

“Cute lil kitten aren’t you? And your ears are so fluffy!”

You reach up to touch his hair, and he would grab your hand if someone else didn’t already beat him to it.

A gaudy yellow suit is the first thing he sees, then—what the fuck?

“Doll, I told you not to go wandering off,” the stranger says, and it’s now that his day goes from bizarre to fucking impossible because he’s staring at himself. Older, sure, but his voice, his body, damn near everything—

“Oh peanut! It’s time to go!” Says another man in a bright red jumpsuit, and he can hear the other man groan in response.

“Alright, you heard him.”

“Aw,” you complain, following after the two of them. “Wanted to pet him before we go.”

You wave to the younger man behind you, giving him a wink along with your name. “Come find me when you’re all grown up kitty! I’ll be waiting for you!”

“Wait—!”

His words fall on deaf ears, the trio disappearing soon after in a yellow doorway. His jaw drops, unsure of what just happened was real or if he’s just high as a fucking kite.

After a couple of introductions and many confused glances, he finds out that the three people he met are not students or professors, and that no one in the room had ever seen them before. Years pass along with many, many, life changing events and his odd welcome party becomes a memory of the past.

That is, until he finds out Charles has hired a new school counselor, and she looks just a bit too similar to be a coincidence. Once he gets over the shock he extends his hand, to which you accept.

“Names Logan.” He says, and you give yours in return, the same name you gave him all those years ago. It’s now that you point to his hair with a small smile.

“Do you style your hair or does it always come out like that?”

His eyebrow raises, unsure of the line of questioning. “Not really? Why do you ask?”

You open your mouth, then close it with a shake of your head. “Forget it, you’re gonna think it’s silly.”

“Oh yeah?” Logan replies. “Try me.”

You bite your lip, debating on whether you should speak, eventually choosing to bite the bullet. “Well, it’s just that your hair kinda looks like ears. Y’know, like a cat.”

His chuckle is instant, evolving into a laugh. You’re getting more and more nervous, afraid you said something wrong until his hand gives you a good pat on the shoulder.

“Y’know, you’re the second girl to tell me that,” he muses, leaning in close. “But come to think of it, ‘kitty’ has a better ring to it, don’tcha think?”

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

[halitis]

do i have anything anything against jason as a character? no. i actually like him quite a bit! i think hes really interesting!

BUT DO I THINK SOME JASON FANS ARE FUCKING DUMB AS FUCK?!?? YES BITCH WHAT THE FUCK?

im gonna go through all the shit wrong with this comment thread one by one because jesus fucking CHRIST!!!!

1. "that thing" first of all. What. she is literally just a evil-aligned poc woman. she has been raised in this environment and as a result of that this is really the only life available for her and thats the tragedy of her character!

2. "why did she get with roy" THEY ARE FUCKING SOULMATES. THEIR ENTIRE THING IS THE INHERENT LOVE THEY SHARE FOR EACH OTHER WHILE ALSO VALUING THEIR MORALS ABOVE EACH OTHER. IT IS THE COMPLEXITY OF RAISING A CHILD TOGETHER AND ALSO TRYING TO FIND MIDDLE GROUND. IT IS BEGGINT THE OTHER TO CHANGE AND KNOWING THEY WONT.

3. "MY BABY JASON" YOU CANNOT SAY THAT AFTER YOU JUST INSULTED JADE.... LITTERALLY CANNOT. the biggest fucking hypocrytical statement i have ever fucking heard!!! bro!!! jason is Nawt a good person! he just flat out isnt! he has done so much horrid shit, not just to his familt, but to roy's family too. like he is not ur sweet innocent traumatised boy, he is a fucked up grown ass man who was hurt and decided to take that pain out on others. he is no fucking different from jade except he thinks hes doing rhe right thing, at least jade knows she isnt

4. "lian baby mama is jason now" ive talked abt this before, but sexism in fandom spaces when it comes to mlm ships is so fucking common it is fucking absurd. why are women only used as babymakers for ur gay characters?? why can they not be complex characters while men can???? it is fucking absurd how common it is in dc fandom and i frankly dont know why im shocked by it! women are regressed to one of three roles: evil villain who abused male love interest, baby maker, BAMF with no complexity or character at all and it is honestly so fucking tiring and just, boring to read??? like how do you not just hate it??????

5. "unemployed" honestly. i have no words. all im saying is it is No Fucking Shock that the woc is being pushed into these awful stereotypes.

now we are up to the worst part. the final comment...

6. "how are you gonna sleep with my man" ROY LEFT JADE. NOT THE OTHER WAY ROUND. roy was on an undercover mission and fell in love with jade and got her pregnant! he left because he would not be able to arrest her!!! all she fucking knew was one of the first people she truly ever loved had fucking gotten her to trust him and then left her, she had to deal with that pregnancy BY HERSELF. SHE LITTERALLY SAYS SHE SPENT THE ENTIRE PREGNANCY WAITING FOR ROY TO COME BACK TO HER, AND SHE WASNT EVEN MAD SHE STILL LOVED HIM.... she didn't even realise his identity for years!

also why is it always the woman's fucking fault if she gets pregnant? it takes two to tango! roy is as equally responsible for that pregnancy as jade is!

7. "AND THEN LEAVE YOUR KID" OH MY GOD.... [EXPLODES YOU WITH MY MIND] JADE. CANNOT. LEAVE. THE LEAGUE. BUT SHE DOES NOT WANT TO RAISE A FUCKINF CHILD THERE BECAUSE SHE KNOWS WHAT ITS LIKE!! SHES BEEN THAT KID!! jade knows fucking better then to delude herself into thinking she can raise lian safely while still stuck in her life, but lian is her number one priority always!! forever!! she pushes roy and lian away because she knows she is dangerous for them and because she thinks she doesnt deserve to have them and that love in her life!!!

8. "lian should be embarrassed to have her as her mum" i actually fucking wish nothing but hell upon you. have you not fucking read. just a single thing in ur life actually? just like actually can you read??? because i have met TODDLERS with better media literacy than you. LIAN HAS ISSUES WITH HER MOTHER. THIS WAS A BIG PART OF HER STINT AS SHOES. SHE IS DEALING WITH THE COMPLEXITIES OF LOVING HER MOTHER, THE WOMAN WHO LOVES HER AND CARES FOR HER, WHILE ALSO ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT SHE ISNT A GREAT MUM.

im sorry this is so messy and has so much shouting it actually has me fuming when people r so fucking stupid, idc if you dont like a character but dont just ignore all the bits of a characyer that make them redeemable or interesting to prop up ur male blorbos????

[remember-the-fanfics]

Imagine the first time Gen z Overlord meeting Angel Dust for the first time when Charlie and Vaggie brought Angel Dust to the hotel while GenZ reader was in the hotel preparing the welcome party preparations with Razzle and Dazzle, GenZ reader ignores Angel Dust's attitude and is kind and respectful to him by giving Ángel Dust cake that Genz reader for him?😃😃

"Razzle, Dazzle! This has to be perfect for Charlie and Vaggie will be back with the first guest!" Yelled (Y/n) decorating the not completely burned cake, the last two burnt cakes will be eaten by them or the tiny dragons.

"No- alittle to the left! No Razzle, that's down- finally thank you!" (Y/n) yelled watching the two put up a sign. "Okay, so I don't want to pressure whoever is coming so I think 'HELL-O (the o is silent)' is funny, it's a pun. I'm totally not feeling stressed about this." (Y/n) voiced to Razzle and Dazzle as the two came over to see the cake, words looking like it was blood and covered in rainbow sprinkles.

The pair looked at (Y/n) blankly.

"I used all the white with the actual frosting and being in hell most colors are red, black, and death."

"-and this is the entrance and Oh wow." (Y/n) heard Charlie say, they brought the cake towards the group. "You really decorated well, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) sees Charlie leading a fluffy yet skinny spider man sinner from the doorway with Vaggie trailing behind.

"Thank you, it was mostly Razz and Dazz since I was baking a cake for the guest." (Y/n) said putting the cake on a conveniently placed table, dusting off their hands. "Who are you?"

"You live under a rock? I'm Angel Dust, everyone on the streets knows me or wishes to." He said and (Y/n) blanking starred up at him.

"W-well (Y/n) here doesn't usally watch what you usally star in Angel." Said Charlie.

"Oh! He's an Actor then? I don't often watch TV, I'm usually working or helping Charlie." Said (Y/n) before Angel Dust started to laugh.

"I've never meet anyone who hasn't already seen all of me if you get what I mean." He finished and looked at the cake. "Hah. Funny if it didn't look like a rainbow was trying find me but thanks. Just know I'm only here for the free grub and room."

"Well I hope you atleast give a chance one or twice." Said (Y/n) before a sound from the kitchen was heard. "Shit, they're trying to eat the burnt cakes." They yelled rushing towards.

"How many did you burn? Razzle, Dazzle. Don't eat to much!" Said Charlie speeding after them.

"You never said you had child labor." Said Angel Dust taking a bite of his cake.

"(Y/n) was technically an adult when they dead also they are an Overlord."

"That explains why they've never watch porn with me in it-. Wait. How the hell does that child have that much power?! That's like giving a toddler a knife."

"I questioned it everyday."

-

"Isn't Angel Dust a drug?" Asked (Y/n), sharing the last burnt cake with Vaggie and Charlie because Angel Dust kept his.

"It another word for PCP." Said Vaggie, slightly cringing on how the cake was somehow raw and brunt at the same time.

"Like a pipe for plumbing?"

"That's PCV, kid. How do you not know these things?" Asked Angel.

"I died before I could I guess, my parents would probably kill me if they ever saw me with any drugs." Said (Y/n) shrugged. "So what kind of actor are you? I feel like i heard your name before since you mentioned it earlier."

"I'm porn star."

"...Well that explains alot of why people would be weird when I asked who they were talking about. I hope you enjoy your stay."

[mirrorball-leclerc]

snow angel - track one

series masterlist // next

1 YEAR LATER

liked by alex_albon, blakelively, mickschumacher and others

rheareynolds soft launches are a thing right?

view all comments

user1 nah cause how did lando no wins fumble her?

↳ user2 the better question is how did nowins ever bag her in the first place

user3 imagine fumbling the rhea reynolds. lando no bitches truly fucked up.

alex_albon i expect credits for that third picture. i was scarred for life.

↳ rheareynolds you're the one who barged in demanding we watch a movie.

user4 she's gone for a year, besides promotional purposes for her ep and comes back with a soft launch?

user5 MOTHER, WE DEMAND ANSWERS! WHO IS HE?

user6 can't believe a m*n stole my wife. she was for the girls and the gays only.

lilymhe can't believe some blonde bitch stole my wife.

↳ rheareynolds still yours baby. always 😘

↳ lilymhe good. blondie could never compete with me

↳ user7 i thank god everyday that rhea's break-up with no wins didn't take this wonderful duo from us.

vancityreynolds what the fuck? who is that? better not be some vroom guy again.

↳ rheareynolds don't you have children to take care of? blakelively you're overgrown toddler is loose again.

↳ blakelively oh how adorable! i expect to meet him when you're ready.

↳ vancityreynolds you're supposed to be on my side?

↳ blakelively i only married you for your sister.

↳ rheareynolds suck on that ryan!

↳ user8 this family is my everything.

charles_leclerc when did you start dating? why was i not informed of this?

↳ georgerussell63 or me?

↳ maxverstappen1 why did alex know before us?

↳ rheareynolds i told lily, who told alex. you think i wanted that guy to know?

↳ alex_albon i can read your comments rhea.

user9 no wins really thought everyone would drop rhea the moment they broke up these guys love her.

user10 WHY IS NO ONE LOSING THEIR SHIT OVER RHEA SOFT LAUNCHING? WHO IS THIS MAN? WE MUST HAVE ANSWERS!

↳ user11 as long as this one doesn't cheat on her, we don't really care.

↳ user12 something no wins never could do

george russell who is he?

charles leclerc we demand answers rhea!

pierre gasly i just like gossip

max verstappen oh so suddenly now she can't answer?

alex albon i love knowing something you guys don't

lily muni he reminder you only know because i accidentally told you

esteban ocon you people are stupid.

max verstappen excuse me? esteban ocon i would recognize that blonde head of hair anywhere lance stroll i would too. it’s mick

rhea reynolds BOOOOO! way to ruin my soft launch dumb and dumber

charles leclerc ANOTHER DRIVER? george russell WHAT HAPPENED TO “I’LL NEVER DATE ANOTHER FUCKING DRIVER AGAIN?!”

rhea reynolds you’re gonna look at mick and say not to him?

lily muni he i wouldn’t. that’s like saying no to a puppy alex albon they truly are the golden retriever and black cat trope.

lance stroll you’re fucking welcome

pierre gasly for what?

lance stroll for setting them up on a blind date? well lily helped.

lily muni he yeah i did! they’re great for each other

charles leclerc at least we know he won’t cheat on her like n*rris

rhea reynolds my brother would be proud of the censorship of his name. he still calls him no bitches to this day.

george russell well ryan is an icon and l*ndo has no bitches.

alex albon doesn't he have a girlfriend? charles leclerc i thought they broke up? max verstappen doesn't matter, in our hearts he will always remain bitchless max verstappen and that is not me saying his girlfriend is a bitch. i've never met her. rhea reynolds i heard she was nice girl. i just hope l*ndo didn't cheat on her like he did on me

daniel ricciardo what'd i miss?

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, estebanocon and others

rheareynolds saw you bitches say on twitter i was trolling with my last post. i'm not, i am no longer bitchless. some people can't relate.

view all comments

user1 SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!

user2 MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!

estebanocon i'm telling him you called him a bitch

↳ rheareynolds do it you french fuck, i'll tell him you called him an overactive golden retriever puppy.

↳ estebanocon you wouldn't dare.

↳ rheareynolds try me bitch

user3 REGINA GEORGE HAS FIRED SHOTS!

user4 he may be bitchless but you still think about him

↳ user5 that's not the flex you think it is sweetie.

maxverstappen1 get this shit off my phone. it's gross.

↳ rheareynolds you dad is gross but you don't see me complaining do you?

↳ maxverstappen nice to know you're back to your old self

↳ rheareynolds and better than ever baby!

luisinhaoliveira99 is it me? am i the drama?

↳ rheareynolds no baby, it could never be about you 👩🏼‍❤️‍👩🏻

↳ user6 WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?

user7 OSCAR? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

↳ user8 this just got messy with a capital M

vancityreynolds rhea lobster reynolds, i demand to meet him.

↳ rheareynolds mom (blake) said you could meet him when i was ready.

↳ vancityreynolds and i'm supposed to care because?

↳ rheareynolds hey blakelively your overgrown toddler is back at it again!

↳ blakelively leave the poor girl alone ryan.

maxfretwell i would love to inform you that sushi just let out an unholy screech

↳ rheareynolds must be because he's bitchless, can't relate.

daniel ricciardo oh, so that's what i missed!

↳ user9 not this man being confused on what's going on. me fr.

it's mick isn't it?

how the fuck?

i'm your older brother dumbass. besides, mick's the only blonde esteban hangs out with. that i know of.

you're not as stupid as everyone says you are.

who the fuck is saying i'm stupid?

your mom

WE SHARE THE SAME MOM DUMBASS!

i know, and she says you're stupid.

i still expect to meet him, as your boyfriend.

of course you do.

rhea reynolds added one person

rhea reynolds ryan figured it out.

mick schumacher i told you he wasn't as stupid as you thought he was.

daniel ricciardo YOU'RE DATING MICK? WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME?

max verstappen you're supposed to read the group chat dumbass

charles leclerc l*ndo just called carlos to complain.

rhea reynolds good. he deserves to suffer.

mick schumacher she wrote an album about him

rhea reynolds NOT TRUE! THERE'S AT LEAST ONE SONG ABOUT YOU ON THERE! MAYBE MORE!

lily muni he is there another song about me? 🥰

alex albon you two said what can i do was a joke! rhea reynolds lily, babe, that song wasn't about you? lily muni he WHAT? EXCUSE ME? rhea reynolds it was about a hypothetical with this other girl, who's not important. but i told you it was about you because you were so happy? lily muni he don't ever talk to me again. i'm heartbroken. pierre gasly it's giving charles and max.

max verstappen bitchless just called and asked me if i knew who you were dating and how you knew luisa.

rhea reynolds i met her while she was dating n*rris. monaco is not that big.

alex albon tell him she's dating some actor like ross lynch or something

lily muni he how long did it take for you to come up with a blonde actor? alex albon too long

lance stroll tell him it's luisa in a blonde short wig.

charles leclerc that'll shut him up for a while.

rhea reynolds tell him it's taylor swift in a short wig.

daniel ricciardo thank god i don't have to hear his screeches anymore.

rhea reynolds that's one upside to being unemployed. daniel ricciardo i have a job? rhea reynolds but do you though?

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm indulging in my love for both mick schumacher and renee rapp + blake lively. i was originally going to make the oc a lively but i kinda wanted her name to have same alliteration renee's name has and nothing with an L went well so i chose reynolds instead. anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this!

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[cynthiav06]

So let's finally talk about it. There's very few things that can actually make me mad on PJO fandom. Calling Percy dumb is the first one. It makes me seethe in rage. And among the other ones is calling Jason Grace boring.

What do you think is worse than trauma? You guessed it. Childhood trauma. Jason Grace is one of the most tragic PJO characters ever. You could almost say the quest with the Seven was one of the better things that happened to him.

Let's recap his life real quick.

Absolutely terrible mother who dumped him near Lupas territory when he was literally 2 years old. And the fact that he would be better off with Lupa than with Beryl Grace is just a testament to how shit of a mother and person she was.

Then he had to win Lupa's approval while she trained him when he was a literal toddler. If you think that's the end of it, it's not even close. Then he was sent to the camp. It was pleasant, as pleasant as a child-soldier factory can be. Which is not at all.

Being the son of Jupiter, he had insane expectations and prejudices forced upon him, along with a certain caged way of living. Fight a certain way, behave a certain way, think a certain way, and repeat. A monotonous, cyclic existence with no escape and no way for self thinking. After all, the Romans are about as creative as a marble is sharp. Imagine it, a child being raised in the legion, by the legion, molded to be the perfect soldier and Praetor who should have only the Legions benefit in mind with no opinions of his own.

Anyone, anyone would go insane and lose their mind because this is torture, complete, and utter torture. But do you know what's worse, that Jason didn't know how the world was supposed to be. Whatever he was used to living, he believed to be the normal thing. He had no idea the things that happened to him were wrong for a long time. In fact, he strived to be even more perfect, all for what? The approval of a god that was his father? A god he had never seen or heard from? That in itself is the tragedy of most Roman demigods or just demigods in general. But at least the Greek ones get to see them every once in a while.

I think Reyna was the first to see his as his own person and to give his individual opinions actual importance. Because she knew what it felt like to live a life of servitude and imprisonment. Under Circe and the pirates. I like to think that's how they bonded. By making each other's lives a bit happier than their former bleak prospects. And I bet they were super close. You can't convince me otherwise. Which is why I will never forgive Rick for ruining their relationship over Piper of all people.

4.

Then, of course, he was demigod too on top of that, so his life was obviously and decidedly terrible. Being sent on fatal missions? Having the responsibility of not only his own life but his comrades life thrust upon him? CAN YOU IMAGINE LIVING LIKE THAT?? THE ABJECT HORROR OF A LIFE LIKE THAT?

5.

If that's not enough his even more repulsive and terrible godly father fucking offers him to Hera to appease her rage like he is some sort of bloody object. An object to be sold. A fuckinhg APOLOGY GIFT. And then what does Hera do to him? She wipes his memories, sends him to a foreign land which was previously considered enemy territory by the Camp he grew up in, forces fake memories upon him of fake friends, and sent him on another death quest. But at least Leo was one of the nicer things about that whole situation. I won't be touching the wreck that is Jiper with a ten foot pole.

And on, of course, he also gets nearly killed by the same goddess he was offered to as an apology gift. If that was enough, he would find out about the existence of his sister who had grown up and gone her own way, thinking he was dead and now was basically a stranger to him? Yeah wow.

And then everything else from the series happens like dear God, him and Percy are practically drowning in trauma. With Hazel, Nico and then Leo after them.

But at least Percy had Sally (even though the reason he put up with Gabe and his mental and physical abuse was Sally) and even though he felt like Sally was always sending him away and no longer wanted him which was fair of him to think but a grave misunderstanding. Sally was still the best thing in his life. Percy had someone to live for something to live forward to even though he was practically almost dying every year, which kept adding to his trauma. And Poseidon, he cared, acknowledged, and helped Percy. The bare minimum and Poseidon actually did even more.

We can assume Jason also had similar experiences with neither a mother's unconditional love nor a god's genuine care and love.

I am not going to say the Camp point because being the son of Jupiter, Jason had certain assurances, but Percy was practically ostracized or badly treated till book 3.

The only good thing that happened in Jason's life was meeting Reyna, the other Seven, and being friends with them, Nico and his sister, and also not falling in Tartarus, so yeah man's living his best life.

So no Jason Grace isn't boring, he is the most in depth character who had his autonomy and childhood stolen, his interests and opinions razed and his entire life molded and shaped for him, turning his mind and body into a tool to serve so called greater interests of Gods and Camp Jupiter. It's like ridiculing a blind man for not being able to see.

Next time, think twice before making that absolutely thoughtless, mindless, wildly inaccurate and cruel comment ever again.

There's no need to blindly hate Jason cause you love Percy or on Percy cause you love Jason. Hell, Percy is my absolute favorite, 90% of my posts are about him, but Percy is awesome and arguably the best all by himself. This is also true for Jason's character. (I am probably the only one who thinks Jason is stronger than Nico just due to greater experience and stamina.) We don't need to be like Rick or ship stans who demean Percy to prop up Annabeth or other characters. They are both iconic and great friends despite whatever rivalry Rick was trying to project.

[aakeysmash]

ok ok, another one here:

reader being afraid of some insect and sukuna just teasing them cause of it but still taking the insect out of the house.

sukuna calmly walks into your room after hearing the highest scream he's ever heard someone make. he leans on your doorframe, one of his eyebrows raised and his hands in the pocket of his sweats.

"are you trying to permanently damage your vocal chords?" he asks your trembling form. you scream again, caught by surprise since you didn't hear his footsteps, then turn around. he's stunned when, in a matter of 0.2 seconds, he finds you curled around his leg.

"you look like a fucking toddler. you sounded like one, actually. are you a toddler?" he says while shaking his leg, trying to get you to stop gripping him.

"why didn't you come sooner if you were home?" you whine, still gripping his leg with all you've got. you've got that toddler strength in you, apparently.

"because i didn't want to have to remove blood from my clothes in case you were getting killed," he deadpans. you still, then get off of him and stand up.

"why don't you love me anymore?" you pout.

"just tell me where the fucking spider is, woman," he tells you, sighing, while rubbing his face. you gasp, pointing at his chest.

"so you knew!"

"girl, you've done this shit at least once a month since we started dating," he states. silence. you frown.

"we've been together since high school," he continues. silence, again. your frown deepens.

"we're 25," he finishes. you raise your hands in the air.

"okayyyy maybe i'm a bit dramatic. sue me for wanting to be saved by my egotistical, mean, big boyfriend who simply doesn't like me enough to come rescue me every time i need a knight in shining armor," you say, closing your eyes and placing the back of your hand on your forehead. you hear him huff and you open one eye. then he nudges you away, getting a napkin from your nightstand and catching the microscopic eight legged arachnid from the wall.

"there. happy?" he says, looking at you, bored.

"thank you babyyyy," you gush over to him, finally at peace, kissing his cheek sweetly.

suddenly, he gets far from you. you don't even have time to react: he straight up launches the napkin at your face, then hurries out of the room, laughing.

"SUKUNA RYOMEN, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

that night, he sleeps on the couch. karma is a bitch, indeed.

[totokoismyfav]

OMG I loved the daddymatsu headcanon you made, I totally loved it! Hey, I hope you don't mind, but could you please make a similar headcanon, but with the Mafia!Daddymatsu? , where they come home stained with blood and when they were about to go wash themself, their kids see him, and because of their innocence they think that their parents are hurt and they run around the house worried calling for their Mother saying something like "Mommy, mommy! daddy is hurt! He needs bandages and kissys!" , when in reality the blood is not even his father's *wink*

I hope you don't mind, take your time, and rest properly, I hope you have a good day/afternoon/night! <3

of course anon! coming right up! (i haven't written for the Mafia! bros ever so sorry if it seems ooc)! also sorry this took so long anon!

daddymatsu! mafia! matsuno bros/reader - osomatsu san/ reader

osomatsu:

Ugh, he needed a shower. Fresh blood stained his suit as he walked through the door of his home, eager to wash this shit off and climb into bed with you. What he wasn't expecting, however, was his son running up to him with open arms, "Yay, dad's home!" Osomatsu was taken aback, he was supposed to be in bed by now! Before his son could hug him, the child stopped, taking a few steps back as he saw the crimson life essence staining his wear. Osomatsu cursed himself mentally, shit he wasn't supposed to see this. He promised you and his son that he wouldn't get involved with this mafia bullshit. Before he could say anything, his son called out to you while pointing his small finger at his father, "Mamma! Dad's hurt, he needs bandages for his boo-boos!" Osomatsu blinked in surprise as you came running in with a first-aid kit and a confused look, sighing in relief as you figured out what was happening. Before your son went to bed, the rest of the night was spent with your son bandaging your very confused and relieved husband with bandages he didn't even need.

karamatsu: He tried so hard to keep this life away from his precious little girl, not wanting her to have any part in it whatsoever. And that included making sure the job was done as quickly and cleanly as he possibly could. But all it took was one slip-up and the haunting feeling he ruined his baby girl's innocence forever. He entered the house trying to get to the shower as quickly as he possibly could, quickly saying he was home, darting for the master restroom. Of course, he wasn't fast enough to outspeed an excited little girl as he heard her tiny footsteps following him down the hall, "Yay! Daddy's home!" His heart jumped at the sound of her voice, not even having time to react as she crawled from under his legs to face him, her happy face turned into an expression of fear as she saw her father covered in blood. This was it, all his fears were recognized as he felt his world crumble before him. Tears started to roll down her face, "Mommyyy! Daddy's hurt!" Although he felt a wave of relief that she didn't realize he had injured someone, Karamatsu panicked, "No no no my precious firefly! Daddy is alright! No need to call for mommy, we just need to wash away the boo-boos!" She hiccuped as her eyes looked up into his, "O-Ok..." Karamatsu and his daughter then bandaged him up together, even if he didn't need them but he kept up the illusion so she didn't know whose blood it really was.

choromatsu:

"Damn it..." He muttered to himself as he fixed his cuffs, it wasn't like him to botch up the job this badly. He was coming home from a fight that had broken out, he and his brothers came out unscathed but not clean. Blood was all over him as he entered the door, the house quiet as he took off his shoes. "I'll have to clean this tonight." Taking off his suit jacket, he headed for the laundry room but first made a pit stop at his daughter's bedroom. Cracking the door open, he saw the small toddler sleeping soundly as a warm smile spread across his face. He closed the door and sighed, too tired to even notice that the little girl had woken up and followed her father to the laundry room. He heard a small gasp behind him, making him freeze as he quickly turned around. Damn it! She can't see him, not like this, it will surely give the impression he killed someone, and having his daughter know that made him wanna scream! "Y-young lady, you should be in bed!" He whisper-yelled, not wanting to wake you up. "B-But daddy, you're hurt! You need bandages and kisses for your boo-boos!" "E-Eh?" His daughter ran up to him and took a very confused Choromatsu by the hand, "We're gonna go get mamma!" "WH-WHAT?! NO NO NO!"

ichimatsu:

His cat-like reflexes had filed him this time, he should have realized sooner he had passed them on to his daughter. Ichimatsu decided to make a run for it as soon as he reached the front door of your home, knowing his daughter would still be awake when he entered the door. He darted straight for the master restroom, ignoring your welcome. He made a mental note to explain to you what was going on later, but for now, all his mind could focus on was making sure his baby didn’t see him like this. He almost reached your bedroom door before his cat ears popped from his hair, flickering as he heard a small giggle from above. He looked up to her usual hiding place on the top of the bookshelf, damn him and his dumbass self. He should have known that was where she was. She had jumped down, Ichimatsu making sure he had his arms open to catch her so she wouldn’t fall. “Yay! Papa’s home! Papa’s– …Home…” Her tiny voice faltered as she looked at his clothes. Shit! He knew it was all over from there, soon enough she would hate him for all of this and she’ll move out when she’s eighteen with a boy and never come back and– “Papa! You’re hurt!” “Ehh?” His thoughts were interrupted as she placed her small hand on his chest, “You’ve got a lot of boo-boos! We need to bandage them!” She jumped down on all fours from his arms as she led him to you, “Mamma! Papa needs kisses and bandaids! He’s hurt!” Your husband looked at you with a surprised stare, keeping that expression as the two of you “bandaged” him.

jyushimatsu:

He walked home, blood-stained bat in hand, his signature smile never leaving his face as he thought of you and his son. Thoughts of the day he was born filled his head as his heart swelled with pride, walking through the front door of his house and yelling, “I’m home!” You yelled back your welcome from the kitchen as he looked around the room for his son. Nowhere to be found, good. The last thing he needs is for his boy to see him covered in someone else's blood. He made his way towards your bedroom as he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes looking off towards the side as he heard plastic tricycle wheels roll up from behind him. Ah shit… “Hi dad, I had so much fun at school today! We did finger painting and read books and played games and–” His small child’s rambling was interrupted as he saw the back of his father's suit painted in blood. Jyushimatsu’s smile faltered when he heard his son’s voice die down, making the mistake of turning around for his son to see he was covered in more blood. Tears ran down the poor boy’s face as he got of his tricycle and ran up to his father. “No, don’t cry! Boeh!” Jyushimatsu attempted to make funny face gags in an attempt to get him to laugh, it didn’t really work though as his child cried louder. “Wahhhh! Dad’s hurt!” Huh? Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that response. His child ran around the house shouting, “He needs bandages! My dad needs bandages!” Right on cue, you ran into the room with the bandages as your husband looked at you with a surprised expression. The both of you decided to go along with your son’s thinking as to not ruin his innocence. Maybe one day, you’ll tell him this story.

todomatsu:

Ew, he needed to get into the bath ASAP. He cursed to himself that he would miss putting his baby girl to bed as his baths normally take about an hour and she would already be in bed by then. Todomatsu always made sure to get home before then but today he was sloppy with his work. So sloppy that he ended up being covered in enemy blood. Luckily, his daughter wouldn’t have to see him like this so maybe her being in bed already was a blessing in disguise. Ready to come in and kiss you as you welcomed him home, he trudged through the door lazily shouting (not too loudly) that he was home. It had been a long day, all he needed was a warm relaxing bath and maybe a cuddle session or two with you if he was still awake by then. However, his thoughts were interrupted by his little girl’s squeal from the other room as he froze in place. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shiiiiit! You decided to let her stay up tonight so that she could see him, usually, that wouldn’t be a problem but on tonight of all nights, he could perish right there and right now. “Daddy! Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daaaaddy!” The small girl shouted as she ran around the corner from the living room, eyes closed as she squealed in delight once more. Aww, she was so cute! Wait, focus! Bath, now! “Not right now princess, daddy needs a bath!” He tried to escape from her, he really did but it all fell apart when he felt a tiny hand grab his own. “Daddy, you’re covered in blood…” SHIIIIIT! His face froze in terror as she tugged on his arm once more, “You’re hurt daddy, you need bandages right now! Moooommy!” “What?! No! Don’t call for your mother!” You ran in with bandages as you looked in confusion at the sight, laughing slightly as you helped your husband take off all his “bandages” later that night after your daughter went to bed so he could finally take his well-deserved bath.

[daniswoso]

Don’t Ever Say I didn’t Love You. Of Course I do.

Alessia Russo x Reader.

Warnings: Honestly idk what this is, more of a blurb or whatever you call them, emptying out my drafts bbs get ready 🙏🏼, arguments, swearing, poorly written ending, probably poor grammar.

Summary: Less doesn’t think you love her anymore.

*********

You and Alessia were in another one of your arguments.

It was the 4th one this week, you didn't know why at this point, you just knew your girlfriend was mad at you for something you hadn't even done. You think it has something to do with her makeup and you using the last bit of it or something like that.

"Alessia what has gotten into you?" You asked, your face crumbling slightly as tears well in your eyes. You didn't want to fight with your girlfriend, you loved her dearly and held her close to your heart. So why was it so difficult to get along with her without her blowing up recently?

You knew she had been stressed because of her recent move to Arsenal, but she had never taken her anger about football out on you before, just as you had never taken yours about football out on her.

"You don't love me anymore!" She shouts and for a moment, everything goes still. The clock stops ticking, the only sound in the room heard was your individual breaths. Heavy and laboured, as if you'd just ran 10 miles non stop each. Although, that's what fighting with each other usually felt like anyway.

"What? Less what are you on about?"

"You.. You don't love me anymore." Her voice is quiet, fearful.

"You're fucking delusional if you think that then." You scoff, and she rolls her eyes.

"Why do I even try, Y/N?"

"What makes you think I don't love you, Less?"

"You aren't spending time with me as much anymore!" She complains, and her face holds resemblance to that of a pouting toddler, you think.

"Lessi are you forgetting I have a full time very high stress job? The same job as you, might I add?” You glare at her, honestly offended she'd ever think you didn't love her anymore.

"No, no of course not, I just-" You cut her off with a scoff and disbelieving chuckle.

"Just what? Woke up last week and decided to make me feel like shit over every little fucking thing?!" You snap. You had reached your boiling point. Why was she not seeing that you loved her? Why couldn't she just see that if she had spoke about it with you it wouldn't be this way?

"I love you, Alessia. So don't you ever say I didn't love you, I still do. I always will, for fucks sakes!" You yell, completely flying off the rails.

She just looks at you, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Whatever. I'm gonna stay at Macca's." The blonde says, storming out of your shared apartment and heading to the Irish girl's.

You think about chasing after her but hear her  Mercedes pulling out of the driveway as you glare warily at your trainers. It would've been useless chasing her now.

You sigh and begin to tidy everything up, going getting into the spare bed, which you seemed to be spending a lot of time in lately, so that way if Alessia actually came back this time she'd be able to have space in a bed by herself.

****

Later that night, you briefly register a dip in the bed and your girlfriends warm body pressing against your own, muttering soft apologies into your hair which you just respond to with a grumble.

When you wake up that morning to the sight of the blonde's head on your chest and her smaller frame wrapped up in your arms, you feel a small flicker of hope that everything will be alright.

Because as long as you had your girl you felt like you could do anything.

**********

A/N: enjoy!

[graciegoeskrazy]

you call yourself a friend?

(OFC!Maise Macdonald + Ross + Matty)

Warnings: matty is the bitchiest bitchy bitch, amazing dad ross, crying toddler, screaming, they make up for it tho :)

A/n: FIRST FIC OF 2025! Hope everyone had a happy and safe new years!

The hum of the tour bus engine provided a steady backdrop as Ross knelt in front of Maise, her tiny arms stretched above her head as he slipped a soft, purple sweater over her little frame. Her usually messy hair was fastened into two high pigtails that Ross has perfected at this point in solo parenting. She giggled as Ross tickled her sides while adjusting her sweater, her laughter soft and sweet, cutting through the low chatter around them. The rest of the band lingered around the cramped space: George scrolling on his phone, Adam nursing a cup of coffee while reading, and Matty pacing near the door, clearly agitated.

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get your shoes on," Maise wiggled her feet, off in her own little world. “Where are those little things? We’ve got to find your pink…”

“They’re under the couch,” George mumbled without looking up from his phone. Ross leaned forward to peer under the seat, finding the tiny sneakers nestled in the corner.

Matty’s voice cut through the bus, sharp and laced with anger. “I’m telling you, it’s absolute bullshit! They think they can just shove us into whatever promo crap they want without even asking?”

“Matty,” Adam warned, his voice low but firm. “It’s too early for this.”

“Too early? It’s too late for them to keep pulling this crap. We should’ve put our foot down ages ago!”

"It’s a five-minute promo, Matty. Not the end of the world," George said, voice calm but firm.

Ross sighed, slipping Maise’s shoes onto her little feet. “Mate, we’ll deal with it when we stop. No use winding yourself up about it now.”

“Oh, thanks, Ross,” Matty shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “That’s really helpful. Just sit there playing Dad of the Year while the rest of us have to clean up this mess.”

Ross stiffened but stayed calm, keeping his focus on Maise as she giggled, oblivious to the tension. “Matty, I know there’s a lot happening right now but there really is nothing that can be done. We all have bigger things to deal with right now, but we will all deal with this together when the time is right, like we have always done.

Matty snapped, his voice rising. He turned on his heel, gesturing wildly. “Oh, please, Ross. We’ve never done it together. It’s always you who gets to check out whenever it suits you. Must be nice to have a cute little excuse sitting on your lap.”

Maise froze, her smile fading as she glanced up at Matty, confused by his tone. Her big brown eyes filled with uncertainty. “Daddy?” she murmured, her tiny hand gripping the fabric of her pants.

“That’s enough, Matty,” Ross said, his voice steady but with an edge of warning.

Matty barely acknowledged him, his rant gaining momentum. "You- you all act like this is normal. Like we should just bow down and say thank you for wasting our time! I’m so tired of this shit-"

"Language," Ross interrupted, his voice more direct this time as he glanced at Maise.

Matty’s eyes snapped to Ross. "Language? Really? She’s not even listening."

Maise started to flinch at his words as she kept her focus down.

Ross kept his focus on Maise, but his shoulders tensed. "She’s always listening. Just dial it down a notch."

"Oh, give me a break!" Matty snapped, throwing his arms up. "Can we not pretend this is the first time she’s heard someone say ‘fuck’?"

Maise, sitting quietly on the bench beside her dad, froze at the sharp tone. Her wide eyes flicked between the two men. Ross noticed her lower lip tremble ever so slightly, and his jaw tightened.

"Can we not do this around my baby?" Ross said, his voice calm but with an edge as he looked at him.

Matty shot him a glare. "Oh my God- I don’t care about your baby!"

The words hung in the air, heavier than the pounding of the rain against the windows. For a moment, no one moved. Maise’s tiny hands curled into the fabric of her sweater as she let out a soft, muffled sob. She tried so hard to hold it in, but the hurt was too much to swallow.

It took a beat too long for Matty to realize what he’d said. His expression flickered - defensiveness melting into regret - but Ross didn’t wait for an apology.

He kissed the top of Maise’s head, his voice soft and steady as he murmured to her. "Hey, hey, it’s okay, love. Let’s get you ready to go, yeah? It’s time to eat breakfast.

She nodded weakly but didn’t say anything, her lips pressed into a tight line as she fought to keep her emotions in check. A single tear escaped, sliding down her cheek, and Ross quickly brushed it away, trying to hide the fact that his baby girl’s broken heart was making his break. “Let’s find your bunny, huh?” Ross said, his voice bright and warm, desperate to distract her. “We’ll get Bunny all ready for the day too. Where did we put him last night?”

“By my bed,” Maise whispered, her voice barely audible. He nodded and picked her up. She immediately curled into him. Her tiny hands clung to Ross’s shirt as he moved toward the back of the bus, gently swaying her in his arms. She peaked her eyes out from hiding in Ross’s shoulder but quickly hid again when her glossy eyes met Matty’s.

Behind them, the tension in the bus hung heavy. Matty stood frozen, guilt etched across his face. George and Adam exchanged pointed looks as they stood next to him, but neither said a word as Ross disappeared into the back.

“I didn’t mean…” Matty started, his voice trailing off.

“Yeah, you never do,” George muttered, his tone cutting.

…

Ross opened the small curtain that led to her bunk, grabbing the stuffed bunny she couldn’t sleep without just yet. “Look who’s here to save the day,” he said softly, holding the stuffed animal up. “Bunny says you’re the bravest girl he’s ever met.”

She still kept her eyes down, her tears finally spilling over as she buried her face in Ross’s shoulder. “I don’t like when Matty’s mad,” she mumbled.

“I know, love. I know,” Ross murmured, stroking her back. “But he wasn’t mad at you. He’s just having a bad day. Sometimes grown-ups forget to use their big voices when they’re upset. But it’s not your fault, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, her grip tightening.

Ross held her close, his heart aching at the weight of her little worries. “How about we go make some breakfast now? Bunny can come too. How does that sound?”

Her face brightened just a little, the promise of normalcy chasing away some of her sadness. “Okay,” she said again.

“That’s my girl,” Ross said, kissing her forehead once more. He carried her back to the front of the bus, where the others sat in uneasy silence.

Matty looked up, his expression full of remorse. “Maise, I’m…”

“Not now,” Ross cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. He set Maise down on the bench and handed her Bunny. “Let’s get her settled first.”

The room quieted again as Ross focused all his attention on his daughter, his soothing presence filling the tense air. The band could wait. For now, Maise came first.

…

The rest of the day rolls by slowly. Matty and Ross keep their distance. They’re cordial - barely - but Ross is short, and Matty doesn’t push. The unspoken tension weaves itself into the fabric of the tour bus, heavy and palpable.

Maise hadn’t been the same either. She was usually running up and down the halls of whatever new arena they were in, making Ross and the boys chase after her. But today she was quiet, keeping to herself. When Ross sat her down in the green room and told her to stay for a minute, she obeyed. Not even trying to run away or giggling at the thought of the look on her Dad’s face when she disobeys him.

Everyone noticed, especially Matty, and it only made his guilt worsen. Charli tried talking to her. Maise usually liked playing and getting one-on-one time with other girls, but Maise didn’t have any interest.

Not because she was scared, but because she just didn’t want to. She looked… tired. Like the life that once took over the little girl was sucked out of her. She didn’t talk either. She gave small nods to everyone she talked to and said ‘Hi’ like normal, but she was quiet for most of the day, content with playing on her iPad.

When Ross puts Maisie to bed, the silence is starting to feel unbearable. Ross carried her sleeping form back to the bus. She was already upset after being woken up in the dressing room. Ross tried to comfort her by singing some soft tune that carried through the closed door of the bunk room. When Ross emerges moments later, Matty doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t quite know how.

After a few hours, the rest of the band is on the bus and in their respective bunks, except for Matty and Ross. Ross hasn’t taken his eyes off of his laptop, meanwhile Matty keeps looking up at him for what feels like every 5 seconds.

“I think we should talk.” He eventually says.

Ross doesn’t lift his gaze. “We? I think you need to talk to Maise.” Ross says coldly.

Matty sighs before sitting up. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier. I was upset, and I took it out on you - and Maisie. That wasn’t fair. None of this is her fault.”  

Ross leans back, his jaw flexing before he says, “No, it’s not. But she’s my kid, Matty. My kid. If you’ve got a problem, you bring it to me. You don’t take it out on her. Not ever.”  

“I know,” Matty says quickly. His voice softens as he adds, “I know. I just- I got in my own head. She wasn’t in the way. I was. And I’m sorry.”  

Ross is about to respond when a small, choked cry cuts through the conversation. Both men freeze. Then, almost in sync, they turn toward the bunk room door.  

Ross is the first to move, pulling back the curtain to find Maisie curled up in the bed, her face red and damp with tears. “What’s wrong, love?” he murmurs, scooping her up into his arms

Her tiny fists clutching at his shirt as she hiccups through her tears. He rubs soothing circles on her back, carrying her to the couch where Matty still sits, looking suddenly out of place.

“Maisie, what’s wrong?” Ross asks again, his voice low and steady.  

She pulls back just enough to look at him, her wide eyes brimming with tears. “Daddy…” she starts, her voice trembling. “Do I make your life messy?”  

The room stills. Matty’s sharp intake of breath breaks the silence, but neither Maisie nor Ross seems to notice.  

Ross blinks, his brow furrowing as he tilts his head. “What? Maisie, what are you talking about?”  

“I make your life messy,” she repeats, with the clarity only a toddler can muster. “And Uncle Matty’s. And Uncle George’s. And Uncle Adam’s. I love you all too much to make you upset. So…” She pauses, fidgeting with the hem of her pajamas, her little lip wobbling. “I’d rather just… get out of the way.”  

Ross’s face crumples. “Maisie, stop that right now,” he says, his voice breaking just a little. “You’re not messy, and you’re definitely not in my way.”  

Matty leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Maisie, look at me.”  

Her big eyes flicker toward him, hesitant and glassy.  

“You listen to me, okay?” Matty says, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “You could never make our lives messy. You’re the best thing about it. All of us - we love having you around. I was upset earlier, but not because of you. You’re not the problem. I was. And I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you were.”  

Maisie blinks at him, her tears slowing, though her little face is still scrunched in thought. “Really?” she asks, her voice small.  

“Really,” Ross says firmly. He presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling her close. “You’re ridiculous for thinking anything else. Got it?”  

Maisie lets out a shaky sigh, burying her face in Ross’s chest. “Got it.” They could hear the grasp for clarity in her voice. She wanted to believe them, but she didn’t just yet.

Ross grabs her chin, tilting it to look at him. “Hey, If you ever feel like that again, you tell us. Okay? No more keeping stuff like that to yourself.”  

Maisie nods against Ross, her voice muffled as she says, “Okay.”  

And though Maisie can’t see it, the boys exchange a look over her head - a silent agreement, a shared guilt - and they know, without saying it, that they’ll do better. For her. 

[d0zuki]

Oh my gosh, you write for HxH!!! Hi, can I please have headcanons of Killua with a big sibling-figure reader? Reader has been a butler of the Zoldycks since they were a teen and Killua a toddler. Like, Killua always wanna hang out with reader and reader would patch him up after his training. Sometimes I wish I could be there for my baby boy when he was growing up!!

“True Beauty” -"Find your inner strength."

⋆˚࿔ cute bandaid from Kuro𝜗𝜚˚⋆ :: a bandaid for a little cut

― ʚ summary ɞ ― Killua with big sibling-figure reader

― ʚ words ɞ ― 446

― ʚ warning ɞ ― mention of family abuse

― ʚ author note ɞ ― Hello there dear! And of course you can have that, and honestly same I wish I had been there for Killua but anyway enjoy your order

Just like the request said Killua would always want to be around you, he didn't feel true family love, the only thing he ever experienced was training and what he believed was his father loving him

Since you were Killua's family butler he probably wants you to escape with him, I mean you were with Killua 24/7 his family it's out to kill you and he doesn't want that especially since you his true family

Killua gets injured often so you bandaging him means a lot to him,I mean even though he has to be strong he truly wants to be weak around someone and that someone being you

I feel like Killua may have accidentally referred to you as his sibling, Killua probably was embarrassed if you heard him panicking saying he was joking though everyone knows he didn't

Since Killua sees you as his older sibling he's out to be pissed if someone asks you out, yes you are allowed to date he wouldn't stop you no way, but there is no way he will trust someone who is a dumbass he doesn't want you to get hurt by someone so useless

Killua isn't a fan of PDA for obvious reasons he didn't experience it and Illumi already fucked it up for him, but speaking truthfully he loves it when you hug him like I mentioned he just wants to be allowed to be weak around someone

Alluka probably also sees you as a good sibling(that includes Nanika) if you were around Killua 24/7 when he was younger which you probably were Alluka probably met you and so did Nanika and because of that you were as good as a person as Killua in Nanika eyes

If Killua is hanging out with Gon you probably are around these two worrying about them especially about Killua, I mean have you seen how they ate the spaghetti in greed island?! Holy shit that would be concerning at least for me, 30 minutes and eating that amount of spaghetti would cause me a stomachache

Also Killua tries to keep you as far away from Hisoka as possible, he's not about to have him around someone who is like family to him even though you are probably the same age as Hisoka or a little younger

Killua probably protects you as much as he can't if you are not able to fight, and if you are Killua is so damn proud that is nuts complementing you Infront Gon and the rest

Honestly he probably doesn't mention having any siblings except you and Alluka to other people of course if you are not around if you are he's too embarrassed to say it, because honestly you are an inspiration to him just how Gon is

[ladylaviniya]

The Dog Days Are Over

MasterList || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: You were destined to be another Alpha in your family...so why does the test say you're an Omega?

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Omegaverse, A/B/O, age-gap, vaginal medical examination, inspired by the tragedy and abuse of the Trouble Teen Industries in America.

Pairing: Alpha!Henry Cavill X Omega!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Author Notes:

★Please if you have been affected by the trouble teen industry scroll down and click one of the links at the bottom of the fic. I cannot promise they will help but I can promise it's always an option to try. 💙 You may have seen this fic posted before.

★I have had to repost this story because my old account had been shadow banned.

Inspiring Song: The Dog Days By Florence & The Machine

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April 15th 2023, 13:00pm, Trinity, California, America.

“Holy shit, holy shit, no, no, no!” You sobbed.

To the light of your bathroom you held a plastic stick test, it’s tip was soaked in your urine. Five other tests were on the floor around your feet, all positive; all Omega.

You couldn’t believe this, your whole life you had heard on repeat over and over “Alpha, Alpha, you are an Alpha.”

Her parents were both Alphas which meant you were supposed to be an Alpha!

The possibility of being an Omega for you had to be less than six percent. The last Omega in your family was your great-great-grandmother on your mother’s side or some distant shit like that. Your aunts and uncles were all Alphas.

Your family have always told you that “to be an Omega is to be a waste of time. A curse. A weak link of society.”

Omegas were submissive, obedient, they were at home looking after pups or in the hospital at the nursery or at daycares looking after loud, slobbering toddlers.

Your family were strongly built, they were made of soldiers, police officers, construction developers, political leaders and company CEO’s. Not pathetic, whiney housewives. Omegas were “too emotional” for those bigger fields.

Currently you were seeing your whole world and way of life swirling down the toilet bowl as you flushed it. You wanted to stay in college and study to be a high paid vet! Now you were risking being sent to a correctional centre or foreign country with extra distant family and forced to knit and paint until finally sold off to a partner or a birthing centre for science.

You sobbed harder before finally vomiting over the toilet bowl induced by the overwhelming stress.

Laying your cheek on the seat you glanced at your phones time and cringed. Your mother would be home any minute! Picking up each test, you considered snapping them in half and clogging the toilet up with them, but what was the point? When scent was in the picture evolution was the final bitch...

Looking at the many smiley faces in your hands you felt like they were mocking you, laughing at your further misery. Normally you would have gotten angry, but now…instead you were consumed by hopelessness and sadness.

You cried and cradled the pee tests to your chest. Stumbling out of the bathroom you floated to your side table and laid the tests down. You slumped and crawled into your bed, beneath your covers, you hugged the duvets and sniffled.

“W-worst day ever,” you whimpered and whined over and over, muffled by the softness of your pillows.

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April 15th 2023, 16:30pm, Trinity, California, America.

“Y/N! Come down here young lady!” Your mother called from the kitchen.

Your eyes flashed open, You were wrapped in a tumble of your sheets and blankets. Your mother must’ve just come just gotten home, she was always so busy with her corporate work. You hadn’t seen your dad in two weeks since his overtime in the city bank.

Who were you to complain? It paid for everything you had ever known...You just wished some money could’ve bought times you missed or never experienced with your family...

You could hear her call again, firmer this time around.

You groaned and dragged yourself up from your bed and down the stairs. Your stomach growled, you were starved...hungry. You looked at your phone again and squinted at the time...four hour long nap.

You wondered what your mother was planning to cook or if she was just going to order another pizza, her cooking sucked if you were being honest...

Stepping into the kitchen your mother was kicking off her leather shoes and ripping her suit blazer over the counter. She looked angry, god why was she so pissed now? What had you done this time?

“What did I say about boys?” She snapped over her shoulder. She slammed the medical cabinet shut and frantically popped a suppressant and painkiller. She swallowed them dry and grunted, clenching a fist and held up an accusing finger at you.

Sure she had every right to be grumpy. It was your job to complete chores while you studied at home. Laundry hadn’t been folded and dishes hadn’t been put away from the dish washer.

But to be mad about boys? Now that, you didn’t understand the sudden burst of tone.

You felt your body loosen and turn icy, your skin covered in goosebumps.

Your mother was furiously popping a second pill before her when you shivered, “D-don’t bring boys over.”

She sneered, her canines flashing; her eyes identical to yours, glared you down.

Stepping around you to the pantry cupboards, she whipped out an air freshener and dosed the room in a scent of lavender…only to be clouded by hormonal pheromones again...the lavender was defenceless against the smell.

You felt the air grow painfully heavy as your mother hissed and sprayed the can out, before furiously slamming onto the counter and slamming the cupboards shut.

“Then why the fuck do I smell an omega?!” her sharp nail pointed to the ceiling and she began yelling as though there was someone upstairs she was calling to, “You tell that bloody boy to get out before I haul his goddamn omega ass out onto the fucking sidewalk!”

Omega…She thinks I brought an omega over…She smells…me…omega…I’m an omega…no…no…

“M-mum…I don’t have a b-boy over,” You stepped from side to side nervously and wrung your hands.

Your mother pinched the bridge her of nose and sighed, “Well Y/N…I didn’t know you were into girls,” gently reaching out, she pulled back your silk cap, releasing your protected hair, “…but she needs to leave.”

 Your mother’s fingers touched your cheek, she flinched at the heat in your face, you were boiling. It was then that colour started to fade from her face.

“Mom, please-” Before you could explain that you were the cause of the flooding scent, she marched her way up stairs and slammed open your bedroom door where a giant wave of humid Omega scent flew out.

No…no! Mom! Stop! No!

Your voice was silent, your lips shut in a worried grimace.

As you ran up the stairs after her, you could hear your mother’s high pitched scream.

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April 15th 2023, 17:45pm, Trinity, California, America.

The hospital was…cold…the air-conditioning peltsd down on your neck, it made you want to snuggle deeper into your sweater, it might’ve been spring and warming up but you felt so hot and cold and you knew the soft material is what you needed.

Your mother was trembling just as hard as you were. Her knee was bouncing hard and she.keot wiping her mouth and checking her phone. Your father wasnt responding to any of her texts or calls.... you couldn’t tell if your mother was experiencing fear, rage even …disappointment. She hadn’t let you touch her ever since she found all the positive Omega tests. When you tried to hold her hand, she growled at you from the back of her throat.

It hurt your feelings badly.

You craved touch, you needed support, you needed your mum, you needed affection.

The waiting room was almost empty, the only other people was an Omega man with his pup in a sling while his Alpha wife continued to protectively touch their baby’s forehead. You stared at the baby though… pups…where are my pups?...

“Y/N Y/L/N?” an English accent cut through the train of thought on the baby. In the doorway to the hall, a tall doctor was looking between you and the couple. When you stood up, with your mother hot on your tail, he smiled and led your both to his office.

Awkwardly you sat down onto a waiting chair next to the doctors desk. Taking a deep breath you could smell the scent of Alpha and hand sanitiser. The overwhelming senses made you feel slightly nauseas.

Your mother sat beside you with an annoyed sigh, she lifted her hand out to the doctor to shake it, “Y/M/N, Mrs Y/L/n, Y/N's mother.”

The doctor gave a side glance at her reaction and then looked at you with a soft smile.

He strained in his professional British tone, “Hello Mrs Y/L/N, I’m Doctor Cavill.”

After the two Alphas acquainted themselves he finally sat in his wheeley chair and regarded you.

“What can I help you with today Miss Y/L/N?” he smiled.

You noticed how he looked so clean, and was built like a brickhouse, he smelt like an Alpha. The rooms light glinted on his medical wrist band proclaiming him as his blood type and confirming his own scent.

Behind his spectacles, his eyes were kind, made of two colours, blue and his left eye had a tip of brown…it was merely something you saw...his smile was warm like a freshly baked cookie. Oh god…you was aroused.

You didn’t realise your weren’t answering his question when he stared at you. Your mother finally answered.

“She smells like an Omega.”

Such a dirty word...Omega...you cringed.

....goddess...please don’t let me be a homely sulk.

The Doctor then turned his attention away and pursed his lips and lifted a single brow at your mother, “Is something wrong with that?”

The older woman scoffed and rose her voice to a humiliating state. Your heart was beating fast, your cheeks were heating up and you tried sinking further into the seat. Your nose dug into the woollen shoulder of your sweater. What you would give to be allowed to hide away from this situation.

“Her father and I are both pure blooded Alphas! How can this happen!? The last omega we had was my great-grandmother and that’s it!”

Doctor Cavill sighed calmly as he took off his glasses and placed them on his desk. He folded his arms and stood from his desk, “I see, well then Mrs Y/L/N, please step outside to the waiting room. I will need to conduct a blood and vaginal test.”

Your mother obviously huffed and grumbled about ‘how unprofessional’ and ‘surely I can stay’.

Even now you wanted her to leave with her hostile attitude. Luckily there was no way a female Alpha would argue with a male Alpha. When the door shut though it felt strange. All the heavy tension in the room lifted off of your chest. You felt instantly calmer and made it easier to breathe.

The doctor sat back into his desk chair and crossed a leg over another casually.

“So…” he smiled, “How do you feel Miss Y/L/N?”

You gulped slightly and shakily answered, “Everything is smelling sweeter than normal,” you hated the scent of hand sanitiser but now it was something you wanted to shove up your nose.

If it blocked out every other scent from the dust on the walls to the chocolate in the vending machine outside to the scent of the alpha right in front of you…You would drink it all down.

“No,” he chuckled, pushing back from his desk and started rummaging through his desk for medical items, “I mean, are you okay? Are you stressed or scared, or are you alright? I can always get a cup of water for you. But we need to take your blood first.”

You shook your head and tucked your neck deeper down into your sweater. Your fingers felt the scratchiness of the wool. You nodded and slipped the material off over your head and folded it neatly onto the chair your mother sat.

“I’m terrified,” you confessed, your voice choked up, “I don’t want to be an Omega, I hope this is just a stupid puberty flux…maybe it’s a flip!”

It wasn’t uncommon for this situation to happen. Hormones can sometimes Flip and shows signs for the two other blood types, sometimes blood has become contaminated due to high iron levels or too much sugar intake. Diabetes were always Flipping the board. There were a million things that could cause a Flip in the hormonal pool.

“There’s nothing wrong with being an Omega you know,” the doctor commented sternly, holding up a needle, changing the needle point while you choked.

You felt unusually insulted, “Everything is wrong with being an Omega, I won’t get the job I want and I won’t be allowed to come to parties with my friends, I’ll be stuck home with a…a…a fucking baby. Or sent to a breeding farm! I heard about the science experiments conducted on pregnant Omegas in the camps.”

The doctor turn abruptly at yoj and narrowed his eyes at you, he appeared offended. What does he need to be offended about, he’s an Alpha!

But his frown became a smirk, “You’re aware they are safetly committed with the Omegas consent?”

 He patted the medical chair in the centre of the room, “But whatever case, what do you want to do Career wise?” he asked while you crawled up atop of the tall chair and let him pull up your sleeve and wipe the alcohol on your arm.

“I want to be a vet,” you winced as the needle broke through your skin. You looked away from the bubbling blood being sucked up through the tube.

As he pulled away and capped the needle tip he asked, “Ever thought about midwifery?”

“I don’t like babies,” you snorted ignoring how desperately you were yearning to have one of your own ten minutes ago, “They’re so uncomfortable to be around. And I don’t want to listen to a screaming woman in labour.”

You noticed the movement in his shoulders as they slumped, he nodded and you felt like you were failing an unspoken test. You felt a rising anxiety, you growled to yourself, it’s just a hormonal Flip.

“Fair enough,” Doctor Cavill said off handily, he sealed up your blood tube in a plastic bag and started to write your details. The pen cap lazily hung from his lips. He looked like he smoked…he didn’t smell like it though, maybe it was the way he stood. His scent was so easy to smell and feel…you yearned to know if he could smell you. And to your tragic uncontrol, your underwear were rubbing rough against your sensitive areas, the fumes dragged out this needing slick that was sickening.

Being omega is disgusting, this is what they do all the time? Gross! GET ME SOME ALPHA HORMONES NOW.

You knew this had to be wrong, all the time you had been surrounded by alphas and you had been strong and confident like an alpha, maybe a little strategic like a beta. You were sure though you were alpha rather than beta and there was no possible way for you to present as a dormant omega for this long!

Normally Omegas presented at fucking fourteen to sixteen not your age!!

“How old are you Miss Y/L/N?”

“I’m eighteen,” You informed him of your birthday and he nodded, writing it down in the corner of the bag.

You were officially pissed off, crossing your arms you felt your eyes watering. “I want to be an Alpha or even a Beta,” You whimpered, “I can’t be an Omega, no way.”

The whimper…Shit! Stop whimpering you baby! Stop proving this point! Could you be anymore Omega!?

The doctor placed the test bag on his desk before gifting yoh a soft tissue “Have you taken a home determine test?” his hands settled onto his knees as he crouched down before you.

You broke out into a light sob and nodded, “ugh huh, I took six different ones…all positive for Omega.”

The doctor smiled sadly and handed you the box of tissues he had on his desk. A nurse came knocking barely after you had started. It made you feel puny when you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. You felt helpless, why couldn’t they just get you some alpha hormones already?

“Please take this to the test room,” he asked the nurse, handling a plastic bag with your needle inside.

Doctor Cavill let you cry as long as you wanted and reminded you that it wasn’t a hundred percent if you were an Omega yet.

The doctor rubbed your back and cleared his throat. From a draw below your feet he pulled out a green plastic cape, “Miss Y/L/N would you like to step into the bathroom there and remove your bottoms? Put the gown on?”

Time to get the vaginal confirmation that you were tighter than a needle hole. You pushed his hand away. God he sounded patronising, even if he was being merely polite about the events unfolding you took it as a personal attack, an underlying “You’re a weak omega, deal with it!”

No! I’m not an Omega!

Things were escalating to quickly; you barely realised the conclusions you were leaping to and how dramatic you were pushing with these emotions. You sniffed hard and snapped at him, “Can’t I just take my pants off now?”

Doctor Cavill shifted back uncomfortably, he grit his teeth and scrunched up his eyes, “I merely am offering a more comfortable option,” he clapped his hands, “But you may if you wish, have you ever attended a gynaecologist for a papsmear?” he asked as he got his tools ready from another draw.

You leaped off the chair and slammed yout foot down.

“Duh!” You yelled, kicking your shoes off, and shoving your pants down, You were furious. Moodswings was a popular symptom of Flips.

“I just want to get this over with. Mum is so pissed off. Can’t wait for some fucking A-pills,” you grumbled, leaning back into the chair and spread your legs apart…normally yoh did this with a female doctor but right now you were too impatient to request a woman and you needed to know how fucked up your Flip was and how long would you be experiencing it and how powerful would the drugs be.

You couldn’t even stand the look your mother gave you when she held up the positive determine tests with horror.

The doctor cleared his throat again, snapping white gloves onto his hand and over his wrist band. He squirted a tube of lube over his hands and over the speculum, lining it up to your vagina and pushed it inside slowly, “Miss Y/L/N, please relax for me.”

You huffed to yourself. I am fucking relaxed! -No you’re not, you’re a bad omega, obey him!

The metal was cold inside of you but you were looking forward to the results: Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, I am Alpha.

He took a flashlight and shone the light down your passage, looking down at your inner muscles, “How often do you practise sexual intercourse Miss Y/L/N?” looking up at you from your fuzzy pussy.

Shit, the scent was strong, it was so sweet like maple syrup and honey but sweeter…lick me. Oh fuck please alpha please please.

You shook your head and blushed, “N-never, I’ve only masturbated. So…last papsmear I only came in to make sure I didnt have a yeast infection.”

You swallowed hard, your head felt hot and you swore yoj could feel cold sweat dripping down, “Am I an Alpha or Beta?”

The doctor dipped two rubber fingers inside of you, patting down and around inside You. And suddenly his eyes widened, he gently slipped out his fingers and the cold speculum out. On his fingers was blood…oh shit…

“You may sit up and dress Miss Y/L/N, “The doctor set his tools and gloves into a silver tray. You trembled…what were you? A or B?

He was washing his hands in the sink right beside your head as you bit your lips and tugged up your undies and jeans back up. The room was so quiet, the only noise was the sinks running water and the air conditioner. You shivered and sniffled.

Doctor Cavill’s shoulders were low, he turned his head and faced you. Twisting his fingers together he shook his head, “Miss Y/L/N,” he started with a long exhaled breath, “You’re days away from your first Estrus.”

The earth dropped and the moon broke and the stars were dimmed…“What do you mean Estrus!?” yoj questioned. Tears spurted from your eyes again. Gagged by nature.

No fucking way. Yes way.

“‘Heat’, an Omega will go into Estrus or commonly known as Heat while an Alpha will go into Oestrus commonly known as a ‘Rut’,” Doctor Cavill tried explain only for the blood to boil out of you and make you scream at him.

“I know what it is! I must be going into Oestrus, n-not an estrus, I can’t be an Omega, doctor! Ch-Check again!”

Sweat trailed from your face down your neck, your heart was punching your insides, seeking an escape through your ribcage.

When you tried undoing your pants again, The doctor tore your hands away and took your wrists up, he was breathing harshly through his nose, “Miss Y/L/N I’m going to have to ask you to sit down and take a deep breath. Listen to me.”

You shook your head over and over, you couldn’t believe it! You were beginning to sob hard, choking on tears.

You wailed, “No, no, no, please doctor, please!”

Out of the depth of the doctor’s chest came a stern growl, “Sit. Down. Now. Or I will have to restrain and sedate you.”

Your body was out of control, you didn’t want to sit but your arse met the chair cushion anyway.

Good omega.

The doctor huffed, shaking his head with disappointment, your head flinched down, cowering and humiliated. You felt apologetic, but this wasn’t the real you!!

“Good girl,” he praised, he handed you a paper cup filled with water from the sink, “Now drink.”

The water was gulped down in a heartbeat, yoh needed the refreshment even if you didn’t want it, your doctor nodded, “That’s it.”

As you sipped on some more water the nurse from earlier stepped inside and handed the doctor a sheet of paper. The blood results… You shook on the spot, your red face panicking.

“Pl-please,” you choked on the water slightly, clearing your sore throat, you sniffled, “What does it say?”

There was still a chance, maybe he was wrong; maybe this was just a intense Oestrus that was causing you to bleed. Maybe it was so strong your vaginal walls were stabbing themselves, seeking out an omega cock to claim.

Cavill looked from you to the parchment a few times, he shook his head. He held out the medical sheet to you and pointed to a positive cross.

The world went silent even as he was talking to you…it was a distant noise. Static.

“Miss Y/L/N, you are as I had diagnosed, Omega positive,” he scratched his neck gland gently, “You are days away from your first Estrus. I will give you a choice to either battle through it with medical aids or medical suppressants.”

You dropped the paper and the cup, the shock was as cold as ice. You felt weak, your arms numb, your eyes rolled back and your mouth lulled open. Your life was completely over.

You were Omega...and you fainted.

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April 16th 2023, 1:25am, Trinity, California, America.

When you woke up, you were delirious. The world wouldn’t stop twisting and turning. Above you was a bright light, you cringed away and whimpered. There was a mean bite at your wrist.

You felt cold, washed out. Your body was laid out and angled up a slight. Your cheek rubbed into the soft hospital pillow. You smelt blood, so much metallic salt in the air. And your stomach was viciously growling. You peered down and noticed what was pinching your wrist. Handcuffs. You were handcuffed to the railing of the hospital bed!

Clearing your eyes, you noted how you were surrounded by three blue curtains. One was quick to open, making you jump.

The nurse from earlier smiled at you eagerly, her Beta tag was super shiny in the light, forcing you to blink rapidly, “Oh look, you’re awake. Can you please tell me your full name sweetheart?”

When you sat up you moaned out your entire name.

Before you could ask about the handcuffs being removed, the nurse smiled and held up a torch.

“Wonderful, now I am gonna need to shine a little light in your eye, can you please look into the corner of the ceiling dear?”

Doing as you were told, it was quick and over as soon as it had begun. The nurse was pleased, “Fabulous, right, I’ll be right back, Doctor Cavill needs to have a chat with you.”

“B-but my hand…”

Ignoring you, the nurse left.

Something was clearly off. Why did they handcuff you!? You started to tug at the chain, feeling anxiety seep deep and activate a sense of fight or flight. The curtains reopened. And in stepped the doctor.

He grinned and nodded his head to you, “Hello there Y/N, how are we?”

You weren’t amused in the slightest, quick with retort, “Chained to a bed rail.”

He smiled and whipped out a key, uncuffing you from the bed. You cradled your wrist rubbing the ring indent in your skin, murmuring ‘thankyou’.

Your stomach loudly purred, extinguishing the level of discomfort you wanted to send the doctor. “…and hungry.”

“I’ll tell the nurse to get you some jello,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands. Just as he was to leave, you launched yourself forward and caught his medical coat, “Wh-where’s my mom?”

He softly assured you, “She is just sitting in my room, we were discussing options after I showed her and your father your blood results.” Oh…dad…oh jesus…he finally was here.

You suspected your father to have been incredibly furious. How much furniture did he break?

“You…” you paused, “options…” You gulped and smiled at the doctor, “….I want suppressants...as soon as possible.” They would surely fix everything! You could have some and go have a coffee with your friends tomorrow.

“Not those kind of options…” He sighed and perched himself near your feet at the foot of the bed.

That was a weird answer…what does he mean? Could they change my DNA? Could they turn me into an Alpha.

You had heard of some new sciences like that coming in. The ability to change your DNA genome...

“What other types are there?” you laughed hesitantly.

When he didn’t answer you, It was like the air grew icy and heavy…there’s a reason they kept you chained like a bitch.

There was only one other option....a correctional institution. You felt sick, your hungry belly was replaced with nausea. Your nose sniffled.

“I want to see my mom,” you gulped and moved to slip out of the bed. The medical gown was scratchy against your skin, you started to feel worse, your fingers scrunched up and unravelled. Your body felt dizzy when you stood up to quickly. The doctor attempted to block your way when you peeled back the curtain to many empty beds and a single door with a sign above it...

 “Farewell room.”

No, no, fuck, no! Where’s mom and dad!

You ran at the door and shook at the handle, but it was locked. You couldn’t breathe, you were locked in with the doctor. You couldn’t escape. The floor cleaner and bright lights were clouding your senses, blinding you and burning your nostrils.

You ripped a heavy breath, not thinking it would be so painful after holding it in too long.

I won’t cry, no, no crying!

“Y/N I’m going to need you to calm down,” the doctor informed you setting his hands over your shoulders, you were fast to slap them away. You lowly growled at him and bared your teeth ferally.

Don’t you fucking touch me!

When it clicked at the severe reaction you had made especially to an alpha, you felt instant regret and guilt, you choked on more tear and buried your head into the doctors chest. His heart was beating fast too, but not like your rabbit pounding blood.

“N-no,” she cried, “I want my mommy!”

You felt the doctor soothingly rub his hand over your head and down your back. He hushed you until you were just a whimpering woman.

The door unlocked, and finally…“Y/N…” your mother spoke out to you.

You snapped back around and saw her and your father beside the door. Your father barely came inside, his lips curled in, disappointed, disgusted and silent.

A desperate and hopeful smile came to your face, your hands reached out, “Mom!”

But the older woman just stood back from you...she was keeping distance purposely. The closer you reached and sought her, the more she distanced herself and stood closer to the door.

“M-mom? H-hug me…” you begged, “pl-please mom?”

She sighed and looked away from you, refusing to look you in the eye. Shame.

“Doctor Cavill, your father and I believe it is best if you…go away for sometime,” she clutched her own arms, “…where people can help you.”

You did not see it that way at all, and you just knew she was lying out of her arse. She was getting rid of you...betraying you...disowning you....

“I don’t need to be helped,” you sniffled and smiled, “I just-just need some suppressants.”

“Y/N,” she seethed through her gritted teeth, “Go with the nice nurses.”

“M-mommy, please,” you begged pathetically and got to your knees on the cold tiled floor, “Please don’t do this!”

“STOP!” your mother screamed, “You are making a scene!” she rolled her eyes and turned around to leave, “You will go to ‘Saint Selene’s School For Adolescent Omega.’ We may see you during the summer.” And slammed the door closed.

You flinched at the cracking bang that echoed your ears.

You ran to the door and found it locked, you pounded the window with your fists and screamed out, “D-don’t leave me, please don’t leave me Dad!…M-Mummy!” your parents did not look back as they walked away, abandoning their only child.

Their backs and bodies continued to get smaller and smaller the further they walked. The sight broke your heart and soul. The concept of betrayal could not be clearer. Your breath clouded the glass, your tears slid down and tapped onto the floor, onto your naked feet.

Doctor Cavill’s hand reached out and wrapped around your bicep, trying to tug you back from the door.

“Come on,” he said.

 You shouted, “Let go of me!”

When he did not, you snarled and noticed a lonely pen on the end of a bed frame with a clip board. You grabbed it and jabbed his forearm. The blue ink spattered across his skin while he yelled in pain.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you squealed again and held up the pen with both hands, take a few steps back from the now pissed off Doctor. The sound of the door opening again had your heart rushing.

Mom!?

To your massive disappointment, it was the nurse who was shocked by the scene unfolded. Now you were totally surrounded.

“Put the weapon down!” the beta demanded, holding up her own hands in defence, “Now.”

“Calm,” was the word you heard the doctor say beside your ear, before pressing your back into him, grasping your jaw and finally feeling an incredibly long sting in your neck followed by the unusual flow of liquidised drugs into your body, “calm.”

You were scared, unsure of what was going into your body, your chest thundered with your beating heart until it was like you blinked and everything relaxed. Your body felt instant exhaustion and peace...you snapped back and fell back against his chest.

“Calm...” he whispered, “Calm...”

The last thing you heard...

Calm...

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.