#hello my precious son

[sketchy-tour]

Accidently turned my little moment into a small break! Didn't mean to be so quiet on the blog haha. But I've been watching a show while I wait for the WH update and aaaaaugh. I would post doodles but it'd be so unlike my usual WH stuff.

But Moral Orel has taken up so much of my thoughts. I'll be back to my regular shenanigans soon. Just feels nice to doodle some other stuff for a moment.

[wade-winston-wilson]

Where's the rychad!buddie AU we deserve.

[theropoda]

dear followers, i'm writing on the behalf of a woman, a sister, a mother, a grandmother, named wafaa who has been speaking to me on tumblr from the dire situation in gaza. i'm here to share her story, her plight with you, her campaign with you so you can help her. her house has been bombed, the place she grew up, her place of work, her husband's place of work has been bombed, where her children grew up, her family (three generations of people, which is 15 people including a newborn infant) doesn't have anywhere to go.

she has already lost precious people in her life, lost precious people who were her world, her sister, her brother's son... she can't bear to lose any more people than she already has! she is already wracked with a grief and sadness i genuinely cannot even begin to comprehend. none of us can. yet she still has hope in god that through us, people across the world, can help her family escape this situation. let us not let her down.

i know you're all struggling with money right now. already struggling with bills and food. but donate what you can afford, still. even if it's just a single dollar! because it all adds up, it all adds up in the end. when wafaa first contacted me i believe her campaign was at around €13,000 out of €50,000, but now it is at €21,465! it all adds up. we can keep this going, with donation matches, by spreading this campaign, sharing even if you can't donate. so please. help her family, with whatever little you can.

(verified by nabulsi)

[chuluoyi]

soft gojo meeting his newborn hc, pleaaasee??

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:10 P.M 」

soft dad!gojo drove me to have another baby fever for the ntn time. you just have to put this idea in my head don’t you dear anon~

a part of gojo's love entries

the thing was so tiny, precious and squishy. it fit right in his hands, so red and fragile, almost like a toy—

only it was not. it was a real, living baby. his son, partly made by his own flesh and blood—his to protect.

“hello to you, my little minion,” satoru whispered to his newborn, wonderstruck by the sight of this small but clearly alive being. his eyes glazed, his fingers delicately tracing the baby's face, body, and tiny feet. “i’m your dad, yeah?”

his own soft voice sounded foreign to him. but at this moment, as he was utterly mesmerized by the sight of little human that just came out of you, his beloved wife, he couldn’t care less.

he had always imagined how his brat would look like. he even joked with you about how he’d get his good looks—and heck, the gods did hear him and this baby in his arms was the most handsome baby he had ever seen, blessed with his white hair and softest skin, as well as the rosiest cheeks.

his only dismay was that he also inherited the bluest of eyes, the curse in his family line.

well, but that’s a problem for another day.

he settled his newborn into the hospital's nursery crib, and nudged his pudgy cheeks once again. not even half a day had passed since he was born, and gojo satoru had developed a severe cuteness aggression for his son. he swore he’d spoil him rotten, shower him love he never truly experienced from his own parents, and of course, keep him safe.

with his heart full, he left the baby as he slept, and went back to your room.

in the very same predicament as your baby, you were still fast asleep. you were visibly exhausted, your hair was a tangled mess, and there was a line of dried blood along your lips—caused by accidentally biting them too hard earlier, during your labor pains.

even in the state of disarray, satoru still thought you looked ethereal, too good for him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing them, and he regretted it when your face scrunched up and your eyes fluttered open. “…hmm? satoru?”

“hey, sweets. how are you feeling?”

“i still feel like being split into two… but yeah, i’ll manage.”

“shush, of course. you feel that way often, each time when i—”

“don’t,” you warned, glaring at him. “i just birthed your heir, gojo satoru. don’t even start.”

satoru burst into a laugh so hearty and he realized he truly loved this dynamics with you. and that he was grateful for you.

he wanted to thank you for all that you had done for him. for returning his feelings. for marrying him. for going through that pain to bring his son to the world—

and most of all, for still being here. for staying alive to live another day with him.

“i saw him just now. our baby is perfect.”

“really? i want to meet him too…”

“soon, sweetheart... when you’re a little better, i’ll take you to him.”

but he wasn’t the best with words. and so even if he were to pour his heart out, everything would be condensed into this one sentence.

you were excited at the prospect of meeting your baby, when suddenly satoru leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you so damn much… you know?”

[noirscript]

filial son

Pairing: Yandere Boyfriend × Reader Description: You thought Iori’s love was safe—until you tried to leave and realized you were never free to begin with. Warnings: Yandere | Psychological Horror | Manipulation | Isolation | Coercion | Gaslighting | Power Imbalance | Stalking | Obsessive Behavior | Emotional Manipulation | Mild Threats | Intimidation | Implied Non-Con/Dub-Con | Unreliable Narrator Note: This one's been sitting in my drafts since last December. Was planning to release it before New Year but... hehe... anyway, didn’t remove my OG note. 🤣 ALSO! I'm not busy yet so, hello! Hahahahaha! ENJOY!

(note: happy new year, everyone! thanks for hanging around despite my inactivity most of the time. enjoy!)

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Iori Ishimoto was your boyfriend.

The perfect one, at first.

A man so impossibly kind, so utterly devoted, that it seemed like the universe had crafted him just for you. He was attentive in ways no one else had ever been, watching you with a quiet, unwavering focus that made you feel seen. Cherished. Safe.

At least, that’s what you had believed.

You used to think his devotion was something tender, something precious—how he memorized your coffee order after the first date, how he always pulled you closer on crowded sidewalks, how he texted good morning and good night without fail. He paid attention. To the little things, the fleeting moments. If you sighed after a long day, he already knew what to say to make you smile. If you shivered, his jacket was already around your shoulders before you could even register the cold.

At first, it had been sweet. Then, it became inescapable.

Three months into the relationship, the world around you began to shrink.

At first, it was just your friends cancelling on plans—apologies sent in rushed texts, one after the other, until it became a pattern too obvious to ignore. Then, it was Iori’s misfortunes, so conveniently timed. He would get injured, sick, called away for an emergency right when you were supposed to meet someone.

At first, you dismissed it as coincidence.

But coincidences don’t happen every time.

And so, you tested it.

You didn’t tell him about the next meetup.

Left your phone at home, used cash instead of your card, picked a small café off the beaten path—one he’d never taken you to, one you’d never mentioned before.

And for the first time in months, you felt free.

The café was quiet, filled with the rich aroma of coffee and warm pastries, the soft hum of conversations blending into the background. The familiarity of your friends’ faces brought a deep, forgotten sense of normalcy, of comfort.

But that comfort lasted only a few fleeting minutes.

Something was off.

You noticed it in the way your friends hugged you—warm, but stiff, their hands lingering on your shoulders a second too long, as if checking for something. Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes. They kept glancing at each other, communicating in small, unspoken gestures, their voices light but their shoulders tense.

Then there was Gio.

He sat beside you, close, but not in the way a friend usually would. It was protective. Guarded. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for his glass of iced tea, his other hand sliding under the table.

A crumpled napkin pressed into your palm.

Confused, you smoothed it out beneath the table.

Your breath caught.

"Don't look behind you. He's in the café."

A chill crawled up your spine.

You swallowed hard, hands suddenly clammy against the paper.

The urge to turn around was overwhelming. The weight of unseen eyes pressed against your back, an unnatural heaviness in the air making it hard to breathe.

Your grip on the napkin tightened.

He was here.

He had always been here.

Gio’s voice was barely a whisper, drowned out by the forced conversation around you. "Are you sure about staying with him?"

Your fingers curled tighter around the napkin.

Iori was kind to you. Gentle. He had never raised his voice, never hurt you. But still, something dark and nameless slithered beneath your skin, something that had been growing for months but had never fully taken shape until now.

"You don't have to stay," Gio murmured. "If things ever—" He exhaled sharply. "If things ever get bad, call me. Call any of us. We'll come for you."

The words should have comforted you.

But instead, they felt like a warning.

And then—

A hand brushed against your shoulder.

You flinched.

One of your friends laughed, the sound loud, abrupt—too forced. A distraction. A diversion. You knew it before you even heard his voice.

"Hey," Iori greeted warmly.

The world around you dimmed.

Slowly, carefully, you turned.

He was smiling.

Calm. Casual. Like this was any other day, like he had just happened to find you here by chance. His dark eyes met yours, unreadable, unwavering.

"I thought you were home today," he said softly.

Your pulse was a deafening roar in your ears.

"I—" The lie caught in your throat, sticky and suffocating.

Iori tilted his head, expression unreadable. Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached out and plucked the napkin from your hands.

Unfolded it.

Read it.

The smile never left his face.

But his fingers curled slowly around the paper, crumpling it again.

For a moment, everything was too quiet.

Then he chuckled. "You always were easily spooked."

The tension shattered with the ease of his voice, like glass breaking in slow motion.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Your friends forced laughter. Someone made a joke. You smiled, pretended.

And yet, when Iori placed a hand on your back, guiding you out of the café, you didn’t resist.

Didn’t even try.

Because somehow, you knew—

It was already too late.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

You shouldn't have lied when he asked about your day.

Iori had already known. He had always known.

The last thing you remembered was dinner—the soft clink of silverware, the rich taste of wine, the warmth spreading through your body.

Then—nothing.

When you woke, everything was soft. The sheets smelled of fresh linen, the room quiet, dimly lit.

But your body ached.

A deep, lingering soreness, as if you hadn’t moved in days.

Iori sat beside you, fingers idly threading through your hair.

"The pests wouldn’t stop calling," he murmured, his voice light, casual. "So I had to block them all."

Your throat was dry.

He turned your phone over in his palm, watching you. "Oh, and your mother called. She was surprised to hear about me."

The words sent a deep, suffocating dread curling around your ribs.

"You never mentioned me to them." His fingers smoothed over your cheek, deceptively tender. "Are you ashamed of me?"

You swallowed.

"Or..." His grip tightened, fingers curling into your hair.

A sharp pull.

Your gasp barely escaped before his hand yanked your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Your breath shuddered out. His eyes searched yours, waiting. Watching.

Then, after a long moment, he released you.

"I’ll let this pass," he murmured, smoothing your hair back into place. "This time."

Your entire body trembled.

"But there won’t be a next time."

You nodded frantically, a pathetic, desperate movement.

Iori smiled.

"We're visiting your family this weekend," he continued, as if nothing had happened. "I’ll prepare everything for you. As usual."

And deep down, you knew—

You would never truly leave him again.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

The drive to your family home was quiet.

Too quiet.

Iori’s hands rested easily on the steering wheel, his posture relaxed as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t drugged you. As if he hadn’t pulled your hair back so hard you had to check for bruising at the base of your skull.

He hummed softly, the tune familiar but distant, like something you’d once heard in a dream. The world outside the window blurred past—gray skies, passing cars, the skeletal remains of trees shedding their leaves in the cold.

You didn’t speak.

Neither did he.

But every now and then, his fingers reached across the console to brush against yours.

A gentle, lingering touch.

A reminder.

Your stomach twisted, nausea curling deep in your gut.

You had considered running.

Last night, when he finally fell asleep beside you, you had shifted your aching body to the edge of the bed, inch by inch. His breath had been slow and steady, his warmth suffocating against your side. If you could just make it to the door—

But then his hand had curled around your wrist, fingers tightening.

Even in his sleep, he didn’t let you go.

And in that moment, you had known.

There was no escaping him.

Not now.

Not ever.

The car slowed as he turned onto the familiar street of your childhood home. The sight of it—warm light spilling through the windows, the faint outline of your mother in the kitchen—should have comforted you.

Instead, it made the air in your lungs feel like lead.

Iori parked the car, put it in park, and turned to you. His dark eyes softened, his lips curving into something affectionate.

"Ready, sweetheart?"

You forced a nod.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.

"Good girl."

The words made your stomach churn.

You stepped out of the car, legs stiff, body tense.

The moment the front door opened, your mother beamed, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling you into a tight hug. "Oh, sweetie! It’s been so long!"

Her embrace should have felt safe. Should have felt like home.

But all you could feel was Iori’s presence behind you.

Standing close. Watching.

His hand found the small of your back, warm and claiming.

Your mother’s attention shifted, her eyes lighting up as she turned to him. "And this must be Iori!"

He smiled—charming, polite, the perfect son-in-law.

"Thank you for having me, ma’am," he said smoothly, bowing his head slightly. "It’s an honor to finally meet you."

Your mother practically swooned. "Oh, you’re just lovely! Come in, come in! I was just finishing up in the kitchen. Your father is in the living room."

She ushered you both inside, the scent of roasted meat and warm spices thick in the air.

Iori's fingers never left your back.

You could feel them through the fabric of your sweater, tracing slow, absent patterns.

Possessive.

The living room was warm and familiar—framed family photos lining the walls, the soft hum of classical music playing from the radio. Your father sat in his usual chair, newspaper in hand.

He looked up, eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Iori. A brief pause. Then, with a small nod, he stood, extending a hand.

"You must be the boyfriend," he said gruffly.

Iori shook his hand, his grip firm but respectful. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Your father grunted in approval before turning back to his paper.

Your mother, already smitten, pulled Iori toward the kitchen, gushing over how "handsome" he was and asking if he wanted tea.

You stayed in the doorway, fingers digging into the sleeves of your sweater.

Your father glanced at you over his paper, his brow furrowing slightly. "You okay, kid?"

The words nearly cracked something inside you.

Your lips parted. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, a leaden weight pressing against your ribs.

No.

I'm not okay.

Help me. Please, help me.

But then—

A shadow shifted in the corner of your vision.

You turned your head just enough to see Iori in the kitchen, talking with your mother, his posture relaxed.

And yet—

His gaze flicked to you.

Just for a second.

A brief, fleeting glance.

But it was enough.

Your throat closed.

Your fingers clenched tighter in your sleeves.

And the words never left your lips.

Instead, you forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired from the drive."

Your father grunted again, already losing interest.

And just like that, the moment passed.

Dinner was a blur of laughter and conversation, your mother practically feeding Iori herself, gushing over how wonderful he was, how lucky you were to have found such a devoted man.

Iori played the part effortlessly.

He smiled at your mother’s jokes, answered your father’s questions with perfect humility, refilled your drink before you even realized it was empty.

And through it all, his hand never left yours.

Lacing your fingers together beneath the table.

Tight.

Restraining.

A reminder.

By the time dinner ended, the air felt thick, suffocating.

Your mother clapped her hands together, eyes twinkling. "Why don’t you show Iori your room while we clean up?"

The words sent a spike of cold terror through your spine.

Iori turned to you, his smile soft, expectant.

You forced a laugh. "Oh, that’s—uh—probably not necessary. Iori’s probably tired from the drive—"

"Nonsense," your mother said, waving a hand. "We wouldn’t want to overwhelm our guest!"

Your stomach churned.

Iori’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured.

Your mother beamed.

And just like that, you knew.

There was no getting out of this.

Your legs felt heavy as you led him down the hallway, past framed childhood photos, past the memories of a life before him.

You opened the door to your room, stepping inside.

The second the door shut behind you—

His hands were on your hips.

His breath warm against your ear.

"You almost slipped," he murmured, voice light, teasing.

Your pulse pounded in your throat.

"I—"

His fingers trailed up your spine, slow, deliberate.

"But you didn’t," he praised, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your jaw. "Good girl."

Your stomach twisted violently.

His arms circled around you, pulling you against him, his chin resting atop your head.

"You belong with me," he whispered. "You know that, don’t you?"

You swallowed thickly.

He exhaled, content.

"Now," he murmured, "let’s practice what you’re going to say when they ask about us."

Your heart sank.

Because you already knew—

By the end of this night, whatever pieces of yourself you had left wouldn’t be yours anymore.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

You didn’t sleep that night.

The bed beneath you felt foreign, the childhood blankets that once brought you comfort now stifling, tangled around your legs like shackles. Iori’s warmth pressed against your back, his arm draped over your waist, his breath steady, unbothered.

You stayed still.

Motionless.

Even though every nerve in your body screamed at you to move.

Your parents were just down the hall. A locked door was the only thing keeping them from seeing what was really happening. You could run. You could scream.

But Iori’s fingers rested just over your ribs, his grip lax but ever-present. Even in sleep, he held on.

You had tried once before, after all.

The weight of that failure still ached in your bones.

The night stretched on, the darkness thick and suffocating. The faint glow from the streetlights cast long shadows against the walls, distorting the familiar childhood posters, twisting them into something sinister.

Time crawled.

You counted the hours by the distant chime of the grandfather clock downstairs. The whisper of wind against the window. The soft creak of the house settling.

Then—

A shift.

Iori’s fingers twitched against your side. His breath, once even, stuttered slightly before resuming its slow, measured pace.

Awake.

You knew it before he even moved.

His grip on your waist tightened—just enough for you to notice, just enough to remind you he knew you hadn’t slept either.

"Still awake, sweetheart?" His voice was soft, thick with sleep, his lips brushing against the back of your neck.

You swallowed hard.

A long pause. Then—

"I don’t blame you."

His fingers traced idle patterns against your stomach, slow, languid movements that sent a shudder crawling down your spine.

"It must be overwhelming, right?" His voice was gentle, affectionate. "Being back home. Seeing everyone."

His arm curled tighter around you, drawing you impossibly closer.

"But you’re not really home anymore, are you?"

Your body stiffened.

His lips pressed against your temple, slow, deliberate. "Your home is with me now."

Something cracked deep inside you.

And you hated that part of you that almost wanted to believe him.

The next morning was suffocating.

Your mother’s warmth, once comforting, now felt like a trap. She smiled so easily, beaming as she served breakfast, blissfully unaware of the noose tightening around your neck.

"Iori, dear, you have to try this!" She placed a plate in front of him, her eyes practically twinkling with delight. "This was always her favorite growing up!"

Iori chuckled, the sound light, natural. "Well, if it’s her favorite, then I’m sure I’ll love it."

Your stomach twisted.

Your mother wasn’t just charmed by him—she adored him. Every word from his lips was met with praise, every small courtesy met with gushing appreciation.

She had no idea.

No idea what he was.

No idea that you weren’t eating because of nausea, because the mere act of swallowing felt impossible under his watchful gaze.

"You two are just so adorable," your mother continued, pouring more tea into Iori’s cup. "I can tell how much he loves you."

The words sank into your skin like knives.

Iori turned to you then, his dark eyes soft, filled with something gentle—something manufactured.

"Of course I love her."

His hand found yours beneath the table, lacing his fingers through yours.

You couldn’t pull away.

Not here.

Not now.

He squeezed lightly, an encouragement.

Go on.

Say it back.

Your throat closed.

"She’s always been independent," your mother mused. "I worried she’d never find someone who truly understood her."

Iori’s smile didn’t waver. "She doesn’t have to do everything alone anymore."

There it was.

The final thread being cut.

Your mother—sweet, oblivious—nodded approvingly.

And just like that, you knew.

No one was coming to save you.

⋅ ─ ✧ ─ ⋅

The drive home stretched on, the silence between you thick and pressing, a weight that sat heavy on your chest. The hum of the engine was steady, unbroken, but each passing mile felt like another nail being driven into the coffin of your freedom.

Iori’s hand rested on your thigh, a steady presence, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. He hadn’t spoken in a while, but he didn’t need to. His silence was calculated, deliberate—a leash wrapped around your throat, tightened just enough to remind you it was there.

Your family was behind you now. The warmth of your childhood home, the smell of your mother’s cooking, the feeling of safety that had once existed there—it was all gone. Or maybe it had never truly been there at all.

Because no one had seen it.

Not your mother, who had beamed at Iori like he was the best thing to ever happen to you. Not your father, whose watchful gaze had lingered, suspicious, but not enough to say anything. Not your friends, who had tried—who had warned you—but were now little more than distant voices blocked from your phone.

They had all let you leave with him.

And now, here you were, returning to the place you had once thought of as yours.

You swallowed hard, keeping your gaze fixed out the window, watching as the familiar city streets blurred past. The closer you got, the harder it became to breathe. The walls of your apartment—his apartment—were waiting for you. The locked doors. The carefully controlled world he had built around you, where every choice was his to make, every movement his to dictate.

"You did well today," Iori said suddenly, his voice smooth, warm, like the words were meant to soothe.

A chill crawled up your spine.

"You played your part beautifully," he continued, his fingers pressing just a little firmer against your thigh. "Your mother adores me now." A soft chuckle. "Not that I ever doubted she would."

You kept your mouth shut.

His thumb stroked your skin absently, a quiet, rhythmic motion. "And your father… well. He’s still watching, isn’t he?" Another laugh, quiet, amused. "But that’s alright. He’ll stop, eventually. They always do."

A lump formed in your throat.

You wanted to tell him he was wrong.

That your father wouldn’t stop watching. That he had seen something, even if he hadn’t said it aloud. That maybe—maybe—this wasn’t over yet.

But you knew better than to hope.

Iori never let anything slip from his control.

And if there was even the slightest chance of a problem—he would take care of it.

The realization settled in your bones, cold and heavy.

"You almost slipped up," he murmured, so casual, so easy, like he was commenting on the weather.

Your breath caught.

"You thought about saying something, didn’t you?"

The streetlights flickered through the windshield, painting his face in sharp shadows. You couldn’t see his expression fully, but you didn’t need to. You felt it.

Felt the weight of his eyes on you, waiting.

Judging.

Your stomach twisted, nausea curling in the back of your throat.

"I—I wasn’t going to," you managed, your voice hoarse.

Iori hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Mmm." A sound of consideration. Thoughtful. "You’re lying."

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

The fingers on your thigh tightened.

Just enough to make you flinch.

The car slowed slightly, a deliberate action, as if he was giving you time to think.

"You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?"

There was no malice in his tone. No anger. Just soft, patient expectation.

A choice—one that wasn’t really a choice at all.

Your nails dug into your palms.

"No," you whispered.

The car accelerated again.

His grip on your thigh loosened, returning to slow, gentle strokes.

"That’s my girl."

The city grew closer, buildings towering, the streets narrowing as he turned onto the familiar road leading home.

Home.

The word felt foreign now.

The apartment complex loomed ahead, its windows dark and reflective, revealing nothing beyond the tinted glass. You used to find comfort in the sleek, modern structure, in the quiet anonymity of the place.

Now, it felt like a mausoleum.

Iori pulled into the garage, the overhead lights flickering as the car came to a smooth stop. He shifted into park, then turned to you fully, his gaze steady.

"We won’t be doing this again."

It wasn’t a question.

It wasn’t a warning.

It was a fact.

His fingers reached for your chin, tilting your face toward him. His touch was deceptively gentle, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, a ghost of a smile tugging at his own.

"Tell me you understand."

The breath in your lungs felt too thick. Your skin burned where he touched it, every fiber of your being screaming at you to run—fight—do something.

But you didn’t.

You nodded.

"I understand."

His lips curled, satisfied.

"Good girl."

A quiet click.

The car doors unlocked.

And somehow—

That sound was more terrifying than anything he had said.

noirscript © 2025

Taglist: @hopingtoclearmedschool @violetvase @zanzie @neuvilletteswife4ever @yamekocatt @fandangoballs @mel-vaz

[be-xkyy]

Hello! Since I read your Yandere stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do our yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?

Hii Dear Anon!

First of all I'm glad you liked my content, thank you! And secondly, your question is very good Anon, although this will be a bit short, I hope you like it! 🖤

How many children would the yanderes have with reader? Would they be jealous of their children?

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Masterlist

Yandere Farmer Link

This man definitely wants lots of kids, five or six at the very least and about nine or ten at the most, I think he'd mostly prefer to have boys (since he thinks they're easier to handle) but he wouldn't mind having one or two girls, he has a big farm so he doesn't worry about space and he makes enough money from the cattle and crops to support them all.

As for being jealous of his children when they're breastfed or jealous in general, I don't think so. I honestly don't think he's the "Stay away son, she's mine" type but he also wouldn't let you have much time with the kids especially if they're boys since if you spoil them too much he thinks you'll make them "weak" and "mama's boys" which he doesn't want, so when they learn to walk he'll take them with him to do the farm chores.

"The kids are coming to work with me today. What if they're three and four? That's the perfect age to start getting to know everything, don't question me."

Yandere Cowboy Link

He would want at least 3 children, two boys and a girl, although he might want more, depending on his mood.

And regarding getting jealous when watching his child eat or in general, I think he would get a little jealous, although he would try to be playful and downplay it, saying things like "He's a little chubby, don't you think you feed him too much?" Or "Look, it's 1 PM, isn't it time for a nap? Come on, son, it's time to sleep." Of course you don't let him take the baby away, it's not his bedtime yet.

"Baby doll, when I was a child I was fed and put to sleep at any hour even if I didn't want to, and look at me, everything turned out fine!"

Yandere Dilf Link

This poor man wants to have two girls, two little princesses that look like you, he already has one son so you'd rather have girls but he doesn't care if one is a boy or if they both end up being boys (although not having a daughter that looks like you would break his heart) he's one of the few yanderes that promises to have only two children and keeps it. He doesn't force you to have more even if the ones you give birth to aren't the gender he wanted.

Well now I don't think he would get jealous of his children while breastfeeding, rather I think he would touch the baby's head while breastfeeding even leaving kisses on its chubby cheek, although seeing you breastfeeding might excite him a little (he has a thing for tits and milk, okay?) but he wouldn't try anything at that moment on the contrary he would try to hide it.

"You're so pretty little girl... look at that little nose and those round cheeks... you're so precious sweetheart... just like your mommy"

Yandere Sugar Daddy Link

Another one who wants to have two kids, only he wants to have a pair a boy and a girl, no more kids, just two. Not one more, not one less. I think he would have favoritism with his girl and the boy would be more attached to you as a result.

He would get jealous, he doesn't even want to hide it, although he would be more mean if the one you were breastfeeding was the boy, he would stare from the leather chair right in front of you, watch you rub the baby's head while he eats and make comments like "You don't rub my head when I suck on your boobs, don't rub his head either" or "You know there are high end milks on the market made from breast milk, why don't we try giving him that instead of your milk?" if you scold him or look at him the wrong way he would throw up his hands in surrender and say in an offended voice.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that! You should be grateful that I care, that brat will make your tits sag!"

[coff33andb00ks]

Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)

Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0

Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall

Link to Pt.1

PART THREE HERE!!!

_______________________________________

You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.

It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.

This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.

-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:

Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.

-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-

You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!

Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.

-----------

It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.

You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.

"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.

"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.

"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.

"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.

You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.

It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.

"Uncle says your ass is fat too."

You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-

The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.

Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.

"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.

"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.

"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.

"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”

Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.

Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.

"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.

You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.

"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!

You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.

You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.

“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.

“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.

“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”

And just like that it was quiet.

-8:30pm-

The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.

“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads

-9:00pm-

Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.

“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.

“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.

It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.

“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.

“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response

“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.

What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!

“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.

“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.

“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.

“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.

-11:08pm-

It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.

“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s your little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.

“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.

“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.

Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.

“I did say that.”

Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.

Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.

“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.

“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.

“Suku-“

“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.

“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.

“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.

“No.”

And with that you make the first move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.

Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.

___________________________________

Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13

[msbigredmachine]

Kitty Kat (Roman Reigns)

After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post Summerslam 2024.

Warnings: SMUT (yes i know its excessive im sorry 😭)

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This got way too long bc I talk too much. I tried to shorten it I promise but I just couldn't. I do hope you like it either way...

Song inspiration: Again - Lenny Kravitz

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

-------------------

He could get used to this.

As he stepped off the plane, Joe discreetly adjusted the bulge in his pants and exhaled deeply, allowing himself a giddy smile in anticipation for what was to come. 

He couldn’t wait to see her again. His Kitty Kat. The interesting part was that this time, she’d flown him out to come spend the week with her, in First Class, no less. “It’s a five-hour flight from Cleveland to L.A., so I want you to be as comfortable as possible, Daddy,” she’d told him. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision being ‘flewed out’. He’d been the one flying her out in his private jet, chartering luxury vehicles to bring her to him. The reverse felt strange and would take some getting used to, but it did feel nice to be pampered and taken care of for once.

Seated comfortably in the back of the Cadillac Escalade driving him through the City of Angels, he reminisced about last night in Cleveland. It was fun to hear the crowd again, the adrenaline rush of his entrance music blaring all around the Browns Stadium. It was a long absence from wrestling for him, darkened by the passing of his father, followed by the whirlwind preparation and execution of his funeral, grand, exhausting and emotional. Kat being by his side for all of it was a precious elixir he could never repay her for, but perhaps he could start tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. It was an unknown number, but against his better judgment, he answered and hoped it wasn’t some weirdo fan. “Hello?”

“You left town without telling me? I saw you all over Summerslam last night!” the shrill, familiar voice responded.

Scratch that. Now he wished it was a fan. “I know I blocked your ass. This is stalking,” was his cold greeting. 

“I just want us to talk, Joe! We can’t just end things the way we did!”

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Ebony. I got the DNA test I wanted. Go find your baby daddy and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Are you ever gonna forgive me? I made a mistake!” Ebony pleaded. “You didn’t even invite me to Sika’s funeral. That hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Bitch, don’t piss me off!” Joe countered angrily. “Blurting out that I’m not Josiah’s daddy was not a mistake! I also found the messages in your phone, remember? You and your little group chat laughed at me, laughed about me raising a kid that ain't mine!”

“That’s a female ass trait, y’know, lookin’ through my phone and invading my privacy!” Ebony complained.

“You can invade these nuts,” Joe dismissed, “You cheated on me and lied about the paternity of your son! That’s enough for me to wash my hands off of you and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

For a second, Ebony was quiet. Then, “Let me guess. You’re with that uppity rich bitch. She was at your dad’s funeral, both of y'all looked so cozy in the videos. She's the reason you don’t wanna work things out, right? Weren’t you seeing her before we broke up? Who’s the cheater now, huh?”

Joe scoffed in disbelief. After all she’d done to make his life a living hell, she was still gaslighting him. “We were over long before I started seeing her. I only hung around cuz I thought the kid you were carrying was mine. Don’t act like your whorish toxic ways didn’t drive me into her arms in the first place! You broke us up, so I’ve moved on from your evil ass. Simple.”

Ebony kissed her teeth. “You are so disrespectful to me, always have been. You never cared about me. It was all about your fucking wrestling. You were always gone! I was lonely! I needed you and you didn't give a shit!”

“So that’s why you opened your legs for some bum, got knocked up, and lied that I was the father? You disrespected yourself!” He felt himself getting riled up and had to compose himself. He would not let his ex ruin his day. “Imma make this clear so even you can understand. We. Are. Done. Call me again and it’s my attorney you’ll be talking to.” Cutting off the call, he then blocked the number and deleted it for added measure.

Fuck that ho.

Anyway, back to his girl, Kat. It had been an amazing few months so far with her. Of course, he’d googled her in the beginning, asked Heyman to run a background check to make sure she was legit and not a psychopath like his ex. Katrina Sullivan was one of the most famous music producers in the world and the top executive at her renowned publishing label. She was a big time player in her industry just like he was, a star in her own right, and it was a match made in Heaven.

Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but sex with her was a wild ride. She gave him a run for his money whenever they fucked. She was all about new experiences and wasn’t too prissy to fuck inside a car or suck him off outside a dive bar. He blushed every time he remembered the freaky shit they got up to after his loss at Wrestlemania. Long story short, she made him feel much better about dropping the belt. He loved that she loved sex as much as he did, and if he wasn’t hooked on her before, he was completely addicted after that night. 

And it wasn’t all about the physical. There was an emotional bond they shared, a connection that he’d never felt with anyone else before her. Talking with her felt like talking with a friend. He would unload his good days and bad days on her and she would listen to all of it without passing judgment. He did the same for her and was proud to be the one she learned to trust after her own past heartbreaks. Joe wished he’d had the courage to leave Ebony earlier. Perhaps he would have found the woman who had become his peace, his safe haven, and closed the hole in his heart much, much sooner.

A Google Map search helped him find the best florist in town. The ladies in the shop ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the beautiful bouquet of roses he bought and how lucky his lady was. But he thought he was the lucky one. As he took a deep breath and inhaled the flowers, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of her beautiful face, her smile, her warm embrace. Joe knew he was in love, but he didn’t quite know how to tell her yet. It was weird enough that he lowkey felt like a thot being flown out. He really didn’t mind, though. All he wanted was to be with her and just be in her presence, in her aura. He would tell her when he was ready.

-----------------

Kat’s mansion was the stuff of dreams. Isolated on the hills of the Pacific Palisades overlooking lush Californian greenery, it was one of her rewards as the most in-demand producer in music today. The living room segued into the kitchen, which welcomed him with the smell of freshly cooked food. Pasted to her stainless steel refrigerator by a small circular ‘Acknowledge Me’ magnet, was a note from her saying that she’d just headed out for a last-minute meeting and directed him to the oven where a warm skillet of sirloin steak and seasoned roasted potatoes waited for him. She had also stocked her fridge with his Megafit meals along with C4 Energy drinks and a few bottles of her own branded tequila. His baby was spoiling him rotten and he was digging it.

He first put the fresh flowers in a vase he filled with water before settling down to eat. He wished she was here with him, but he understood more than anyone how busy things could be when you were at the top of your game. He was proud of her and wanted her to get all the coins she deserved. Halfway through his meal, he pulled out his phone and checked on her.

After dinner, he embarked on a little tour around her breathtaking abode which ended up taking several minutes to complete. Joe had some nice homes of his own around the globe, but this floored them all. The edifice dripped with luxury and was crafted to perfection, just like his Kitty Kat was. He enjoyed the gorgeous city view from her balcony as he sipped on some tequila. Her bathroom was spacious and had a waterfall shower that he luxuriated in when he stepped inside. One side of her walk-in wardrobe was lined with an assortment of brand new t-shirts, pants and dress shirts all for him. Of course she knew his size; she’d ripped his clothing off of him on many occasions. His stomach was doing flips as the time continued to tick by. It was hilarious that the big bad Tribal Chief was acting all giddy at the mere thought of a woman, but here he was, entangled in her expensive satin sheets, counting down the minutes until she was back in his arms.

----------------

The sound of running water jerked him awake. The plane ride must have worn him out more than he thought; he didn’t even realize when he fell asleep. The sky outside was now pitch black but the bathroom lights were switched on. As he sat upright in the bed, something rolled down his bare chest and onto his lap. He looked down and his breath hitched. A sheer, baby pink-colored thong, just removed. Unable to resist, he held it up to his nose and shivered as her sensual aroma filled his nostrils and sent all his blood rushing south. With newfound enthusiasm, he climbed out of the bed and padded over to the bathroom. 

Katrina’s back was turned to him, standing over the tub as she drained the bath. Draped in a fluffy lilac bathrobe that barely covered her backside as she bent over, Joe chose to stand there and admire her, letting his eyes follow the rivulets of water that trickled down her long shapely legs. He trailed his gaze along the backs of her knees and her oh-so-sexy thighs, stopping at her luscious derrière where he found her pussy lips, slick and glistening, winking at him. He groaned out loud at the sight, feeling his bulge stir in his drawstring shorts.

Alerted by the noise he made, Kat spun around and sighed. "Oh, damn," she frowned and bounced her fist against her thigh.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her reaction. “Did I frighten you?”

“Not really. I wanted to wake you up by sucking your dick.” 

Chuckling heartily, he stepped closer. "You still can, baby. Don’t let me stop you,” he said, sealing their lips together in a kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. He held her tight, molding their bodies together as time seemed to stop all around them. The anticipation had been building all day and just this moment alone was worth the long wait.  

Joe sighed happily against her lips, his fingers massaging the back of her neck. “Mmm, I can tell you missed me. Did you miss me, baby?”

“You know I did, Daddy,” she whispered back. It had been months in the making, but Kat was thrilled that he was finally here in her humble abode. She pulled back to regard him, marveling at the sheer height and width of him, his bare, broad chest showcasing that beautiful tattoo and all those muscles. Fuck, he was so hot. “I saw the roses in the kitchen, they’re beautiful,” she said.

“Not as beautiful as you are, baby,” Joe answered, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip. “How was your meeting?”

Kat huffed and rolled her eyes. “Waste of my time. Don’t really wanna talk about it,” she added, changing the topic to a more exciting one. “You looked so good last night, babe. I could see how happy you were to be back.”

“I was,” he admitted, his light brown eyes lighting up. “Bro, hearing the fans go bananas when my music hit was insane. And all those fingers in the air, too. Four years of bustin' my ass finally paying off.”

“Huh. I had one finger out too, but it wasn’t in the air, and I was layin’ in bed. Naked,” Kat teased, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

The thought of her writhing around in bed aroused by his show of violence caused another tightening in his shorts. With a growl in his voice, he responded, "Show me." 

“Wait.” She put up one hand before he could grab her. “Before we get started…I never got to ask you because we were so busy with the funeral…But did you take the DNA test?” she asked, watching with dismay as his face fell. He looked away with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, something she learned he did when he was reeling in his emotions. 

“Yeah. Josiah’s not mine,” he replied sadly.

Two distinct emotions of her own rushed through Kat at this news. Relief, that he was no longer tied to Ebony and he could now, finally, move on with his life. Move on with her. Disappointment, on his behalf, knowing that he had enjoyed getting to know the baby boy he’d thought was his child. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could muster.

“Don’t be. At least I know the truth now. I care about the kid, but he’s not my responsibility any more,” he choked out, the sting of losing that sweet little boy still raw and painful.

“Oh, baby.” Kat rubbed her hands up and down his broad back to soothe him. She regretted downing the mood and sought to fix it. “What can I do?” 

Joe shook his head and sank into her embrace. “Just be with me, like this. I wanna be with you. Thank you for bringing me out here, it’s exactly what I needed.”

“Of course. You know I gotchu,” she assured him, butterflies sprouting inside her belly as he dropped feather-light kisses on her neck, trailing along her shoulder which was soon bare as he slipped off her robe and dropped it to the floor. She tugged down his shorts and her hungry gaze zeroed in on that other part of him that she missed. All those FaceTime calls and selfies did very little justice to the real thing. This was his first time on her turf, and she was determined to use this week wisely, especially as this extended period didn’t quite exist before. 

In the beginning, their meetings were brief and eventful, a couple of hours’ escape from the madness going on in their individual lives. Meet up, scorch the sheets, and wake to the sound of the rustle of clothes pulled from the floor, the sharp zipping of bags, quick kisses goodbye followed by the front door quietly clicking open and shut. At each other’s mercy at sunset then disappearing before dawn to resume reality. It was a thrill at first but as time passed, Kat realized she wanted more with him. She wanted to begin and end her days in his sturdy arms. Wanted them to shower together, to eat together and spend much more time together. Simply put, she wanted to be a real couple, and she was ecstatic when he confessed that he wanted the same. Coming to L.A. was a great start and it excited Kat to no end.

Hand in hand, they walked together, naked, out of the bathroom. She giggled as he followed closely behind her, kissing her neck and touching her body along the way. As they reached the bed, Joe noticed the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket full of ice on the nightstand. Kat read his mind. “Just a lil’ sumn to celebrate your arrival,” she clarified, as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. His gaze was soft, yet beautifully intense as he ran his hands up her thighs and her hips, cupping her backside and bringing her even closer to him. He pressed his lips to her stomach, adorning her belly with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that felt so good she moaned pleasurably in approval.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered against her brown skin, his voice clear yet filled with a vulnerability he’d never felt before.

Kat smiled down at him. “Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“For real?” His heart pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she could hear it.

Her smile widened as she loosened his ponytail, letting the long dark locks fall and frame his breathtaking features like the angel he was. Her angel. “Yeah. I mean…After everything we’ve shared, after getting to know the beautiful person that you are, of course I’m in love with you too.”

They were words he’d been hoping to hear from her for a while now, and now that he had, he was robbed of every sensation other than joy and peace and the burning need to make love to her nonstop for the rest of his stay in the West Coast. “You’re beautiful too, baby girl,” he rasped, drawing her back in, “So fuckin’ beautiful…”

They clung to each other, making out with increasing passion, both of them extremely aroused and more desperate than ever in the wake of this wonderful revelation. As they kissed, he slipped one hand over her breast, kneading gently, eliciting from her those purring sounds that earned her sexy little nickname. He missed his Kitty Kat so much. The last time they were together was at his father’s funeral, and he couldn't be with her the way he wanted to be. Now that they were all alone there was nothing stopping him from having his way with her.

But apparently, she had other plans. 

She pushed him hard in the chest, smirking at his surprised grunt as he hit the mattress rather unceremoniously. “Get in,” she instructed him.

He frowned petulantly at her, but did as he was told, dragging himself backwards up the bed with his eyes on her at all times. He felt his mouth go dry as she crawled towards him on all fours like the sexy ass kitten she was. As she reached the space between his open legs, she surprised him by picking up her thong and winding it around his wrists, securing it tight before pushing his arms over his head. 

“Baby…” he pouted.

“Shhhh,” Kat shushed him quietly, thrilled by the submission in his eyes, the surrender in his soft moan, his dick hard and erect in anticipation. Having control over a man like him felt so empowering. Though sexually submissive to him, Kat always enjoyed it when the roles were switched. It never lasted long though, so she planned to make the most of it.

Climbing back down his body, she rubbed her hands on the expanse of his thighs, his caramel skin warm beneath her fingers. She moved higher, coming dangerously close to the pleasure between his legs but avoiding it, for now. She wanted to touch it but the wait was more exciting. Her hands disappeared to squeeze his ass cheeks, and then reappeared over his hips, traveling along the sharpened ridges of his six-pack abs and up to his broad chest. Her body followed suit, sliding up until her thighs bracketed his sides. The little hiss that escaped him as she sat on his torso thrilled her; she knew right away that he could feel her warm moistness against his skin. Her fingers found his nipples next, toying with them before leaning in to lick them, and giggled with amusement when his dick sprang high enough to smack against her backside.

“Fuck, baby, feel what you do to me?” Joe hissed, his cock jumping again as her mouth warmed his neck, nibbling on the shell of his ear as she whispered to him in the softest, deadliest timbre: 

"I’m just getting started, big guy."

Sitting upright on top of him, she reached for the ice bucket, scooping out an ice cube in the shape of an exquisite diamond. The ravenous look in Joe’s eyes matched hers as she sipped on the cube, letting the cold melt on her tongue and travel down her throat. Then, she bent down and kissed him, her cold tongue quickly warming up from the heat of his mouth. The wet muscles moved together in a sweet dance, delightedly intertwining, obsessed with the taste of each other. Kat pressed the ice cube to his chest, giggling when he jerked from the cold, and drew figure eights with it, watching rivulets of water trickle down the sides of his body. She put the ice cube on his right nipple and watched it harden. Then she replaced the ice with her warm mouth on his cold nipple.

“Shit, baby you killin’ me,” he moaned, looking on with hooded eyelids as she kissed down his body. She stopped between his legs, bowing her body in front of his erection, long and thick and hard, precum glistening on his slit. Her tongue darted out to taste it, licking her lips with pleasure. Giving him a sly wink, she took the tip of his dick in her mouth and sucked, winding her tongue around the head like a hungry snake. The moan that escaped his lips was needy and borderline painful, causing her eyes to light up in triumph. 

“When I get my hands on you…” he growled, his expression almost pissed, but Kat knew better. His frustration mingled with his lack of control, control she’d taken from him all day by calling the shots from his travel to the food he ate. The sensual power play continued as she massaged his dick, the thick velvety flesh twitching in her hands as his hands twitched in his makeshift binds. Using the flat of her tongue, she licked up and down his shaft, making slurping sounds that were drowned out by his groans as she spread her saliva all over his dick. She was addicted. He tasted so good and she craved to have her fill.

Putting a smaller ice cube in her mouth, she chewed it, crushing the ice with her teeth. From there, she hugged his dick with her lips, dousing the heat of his flesh with the coldness of her throat. Tiny bits of ice melted against his shaft as she sucked and tongued every inch of him. She could feel his chest heaving and his abs crunching, could hear his strangled moans as he got warmer and got harder in her mouth. He was right where she wanted him. Resting her weight on his burly thighs, she moaned to him to let go, and smiled when seconds later a shout burst from him, his hips arching off the bed as he unloaded down her throat. She drank her fill of him, glancing up to watch the pleasure ravage his huge body, giving a little smile as he floated down back to earth. 

“Oh my god…” he breathed, his body jerking when she pulled away, letting his dick, slick with her spit and his cum, plop down on his thigh. With one more long, soft kiss to his length, she slithered back up his body, pressing her lips to his for a sweet, delicate kiss which heavily contrasted with the heaviness of his dick brushing along her now-wet opening. Pleasing him turned her on in a way her notoriously composed self could never comprehend.

“You came so hard for me, baby. The look on your face was everything,” Kat gifted him a teasing lash of her tongue against his as she ran her hands up his arms to toy with the sheer material holding him hostage. Lifting her body up, she slowly sank down on his dick, a gasp slipping from her when the smooth tip pierced through her soft, slick folds, enabling her to wind her hips to take him all the way in. They both moaned as the thickness of him nudged her sweet spot, coaxing a whine out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting him close, making out with him while slowly rocking her body back and forth, grinding her clit on him. It stunned her to this day, how she was able to take him all, his length and girth filling her and hitting her most sensitive spot right away. The power that coursed through her at making him succumb to her will, no different from any pinning combination or submission move, was intoxicating. Her moans and his groans reverberated through the bedroom, the air thick with the scent of sex as she loved on him.

“Untie me. Now,” Joe commanded out of nowhere, the roughness of his tone surprising Kat. One look at the power and pleasure on his beautiful face told her he was not taking no for an answer. Obediently, she  reached up and unraveled the underwear from around his wrists, and she had barely tossed it aside when his hands came around her, finding her backside and thrusting deeper into her. Finally, he could touch her the way he wanted. He loved her ass, enjoyed the feel of it gyrating against his palms. He landed a heavy-handed slap on it, making her burrow her face in his neck with a soft cry, the sound growing more desperate as his fingers caressed the supple flesh of her ass while grinding up into her, making her feel so good.

“Such a badass bitch, yet so weak for me. Weak for this dick,” he purred to her with a kiss to her shoulder. The wicked gleam in his eyes had Kat both frustrated and aroused, but the unmistakable glimpse of lust clouding those eyes showed he was just as weak for her. With every downward motion of her hips, she could see him become more mesmerized, his breaths huskier, his face contorting with unbridled bliss as her pussy squeezed his length in deep, throbbing pulls. Sensing him trying to regain control, she beat him to it, pushing up and steadying herself on top of him. With both hands planted on his strong chest, she adjusted her legs in a squat and began bouncing on his dick, up and down, fucking him, taking from him what she wanted, giving him what he needed. 

“Fuck, that’s it, kitten, ride the shit outta my dick,” Joe groaned, his huge hands now clamped around her waist. “I’m here now, baby. I gotchu. Take it out on me, take all that stress out on me.” It was a wonder to watch her, her knees up and wide apart, treating him to the sight of her moist flesh gliding all the way down his turgid flesh and back up, leaving the base of his dick a wet, slippery mess. It looked incredible and felt even better. “You so wet for me, baby girl,” he rasped, reaching up to massage her bouncing breasts. “I love it when you use me. You love using Daddy’s big dick, huh?”

"Yes, Daddy I love it...Shiiit, oh my goddd!" Kat threw her head back, her moans shaky, her body trembling on top of him as waves of ecstasy washed over her thanks to the orgasm wracking her from head to toe.  

“Unnhh yeah, come for Daddy, come on my dick,” he moaned back to her, his full lips parted and panting, his eyes boring into hers as he watched her come undone. Overcome with passion, he sat upright and tugged her flush against him, his breath hitching as the action sank him even deeper into her. He needed to hold her to him, needed to make her all his. “I ain’t pullin’ out,” he announced, moving her on him again, “I'ma come all up inside you, baby.”

His words sank in, but any coherent answer she had disappeared with another rake of his dick against her g-spot. Wordlessly, Kat snuggled into his warm embrace, locking her arms and legs around him as she continued to grind on him in a deliciously erotic rhythm. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Joe planted a big kiss upon her throat, her jaw, then her lips, enjoying the taste of her moans as his hips rolled along with hers like a choreographed dance. Emotions were high as they joined as one, surrounded by the sounds of the newfound love they were finally expressing to each other. The mattress bounced beneath them, the legless bed rocking in tune with their heated bodies rocking on top of it. Every worry they had was gone and replaced with a hunger and need for the other that they both knew they would never be able to satiate.

"I love you," Joe whispered, pushing her hair out of her eyes to gaze into them.

“I love you too, baby...oh fuck,” Kat panted, burying her face in his shoulder, her hands sliding down to grip his ass as she bucked her hips like a mad woman. Joe moved with her, not missing a single beat. His own release was building fast within him, too fast. The blood was pounding in his head and tightening his balls as her pussy squeezed his cock so tight he was having a hard time catching his breath. They soon realized they were climaxing together, both shaking from the intense, throbbing waves of pleasure. Kat’s toes curled into the sheets as she felt his warm fluid gushing into her pussy just like he wanted, felt his body pulse as hard as his dick pulsing deep inside of her. No piece of music, no music video she created could ever compare to the magic she made with this incredible man, ever be as beautiful as the sight of his face scrunching up helplessly as his orgasm consumed him. So she kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, watching all the emotions sweep his gorgeous visage like an unforgettable movie. 

An eternity later, their movements slowed, their breathing calmed, their hearts racing as one as the world returned to normal. Joe felt light as air as he fell back onto the bed, Kat melting into him with her head on his chest, where his heart beat for her. He was still inside her and she kept him there, wanted to be filled with all his love in the very best way.

“Welcome home, my love,” she giggled, soothed by his own throaty chuckle vibrating against her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed her forehead. She wished she could bottle the sound of his laugh, the feeling of his soft lips, bottle this very moment forever.

“Glad to be home, my love,” he answered, his fingers caressing her back as he kissed her mouth. “I can tell my time in L.A. is gonna be fun.”

"Mm-hmm. We got all week, Daddy," Kat eyed him with a sly smile, tracing her manicured index finger along his tattooed pectoral, "Like I said, we're just getting started."

THE END.

--------------

A/N: This is the only story I've had the energy to complete. I'd love to know your thoughts!

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[starrihan]

Hii <3

How do you think &Team Hyung line would react to female best friend not wearing a bra and they accidentally touch them.

I love ur writing! ⭐️

hiii nonnie! youre too sweet thank you!!! i always appriciate when people say they love my writing 🥹🥹 also its crazy that i already had an idea to write something like this so im excited that we had the same idea!

each part is ~500-700 words long (they get longer for each member 😅)

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

K:

he called you over to the dorms as if it were an emergency. you were laying in bed, about to go to sleep when his messages kept buzzing your phone. you groaned, picking up the device and looking at the dimly lit screen, only to read in all caps: "Y/N COME QUICK ITS URGENT I NEED YOUR HELP!" so of course you spring into action, not bothering to put on a bra and just grabbing your jacket, bolting out the door.

you're there within minutes, making sure you brought emergency meds and a first aid kit just incase, knowing the boys didn't have any at their dorm.

"whats all this for?"

K says casually as he opens the door. But you don't pay him any mind, running in:

"WHERES THE EMERGENCY? WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY? WHERE'S TAKI? DID MY SON GET INJURED?!"

you look around frantic, adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

"what? no. i needed your help with this recipe. i don't know how to do this one technique and you cook so i thought–"

your back is turned to him, anger bubbling up inside of you.

"–Koga Yudai. you texted me that it was an emergency but ALL YOU NEEDED WAS HELP WITH A GODDAMNED RECIPE??!! I COULD JUST KILL–"

he reaches his hand out, trying to grab your shoulder to spin you around when you decide to turn yourself, stopping your sentence when his big hand lands straight on your right boob. he's frozen in place, stunned by his own hand placement.

"hello? earth to K? mind taking your hand off of my chest so i can yell at you more you sick pervert?"

"oh, uh... yeah, sorry..."

he says, nervously, an awkward hand going to scratch at the nape of his neck as a light pink blush dusts his cheeks.

"what? you've never touched a boob before? why the bashfulness?"

his blush grows deeper, quickly denying your allegations.

"i've touched a woman's boobs before but never my best friend's! sorry for feeling embarrassed, damn."

you shrug your shoulder, crossing your arms over your chest, elevating them.

"i didn't mind it. you could've kept it there longer, its been a while since someone's touched them anyway, what better person to do it then you i guess."

its like his brain short-circuited for a second. like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"you're serious? you want me to keep touching your boobs?"

"i didn't mean it like that. i'm just saying if you want to, you can."

you look away, feeling a little embarrassed yourself now for even suggesting the idea.

"and suddenly i'm not hungry anymore."

he looks at you dead in the face as you look down, watching the ever-growing tent in his pants forming before your eyes, a smirk creeping its way onto your face as you let out a little chuckle.

"you're too easy, you know that?"

"i'm a touch starved man and busy, what did you think was going to happen?"

༄ ༄ ༄

Fuma:

you wanted to start going to the gym to get in shape. you had many events coming up and you wanted to be in the best shape you could, at least to keep your energy up throughout the day, so of course you enlisted the help of your best friend and gym rat, Fuma.

"you better be grateful, i'm skipping one of my precious gym days to help you out."

you stop in tracks, bowing down to him and being extra dramatic in your delivery:

"thank you, oh great lord Fuma. your assistance is much appreciated i have no earthly idea what i would do without your holy guidance!"

he rolls his eyes, gently nudging you forward as you laugh at your own antics. upon making it to the gym, you set your belongings down near the yoga mats, stretching first as a warm-up. he shows you what to do, like your own personal trainer, having you complete a set of stretches and even some Pilates-style workouts before heading over to the big machines.

after your workout, you both decided to get some food. you head over the bathrooms, showering quickly before putting your gym clothes away and putting on your regular outfit. you look in your bag, finding everything you needed except for a spare bra. after looking in your bag two more times, you curse at yourself, realizing that you forgot to pack an extra bra. the shirt you brought to wear after your workout was a little tight, but you hoped not much could be seen, you didn't really have an other choices for clothing, opting not to bring a jacket today because it was nice out.

upon walking out, you can't help but shiver, the cool air from the AC's blasting throughout the gym catching you off guard. you didn't notice the way your nipples had pebbled due to the cold. you sit at one of the nearby benches, waiting for Fuma. a couple minutes later, he walks out with all of his belongings.

"finally, took you long enough!"

you exasperate, getting up and facing him. he laughs, looking down at you when he notices your nipples poking through the shirt. you don't notice his wandering eyes, another shiver running up your body.

"cold?"

he says as you nod.

"i think its just the AC's though, i should be fine outside."

"no, here."

he says, going to put his jacket over your shoulders. you laugh, trying to fight his jacket away, saying you'll be fine one you leave the gym. he continues his actions though, now just to tease you but stops when he manages to get the jacket over both of your shoulders, the palm of his hand grazing your hard nipple as you let out a soft moan.

he looks at you in shock as your face flushes a deep red, embarrassment coursing through your body as the moan you let out because of your best friend. you take the jacket, forcefully pulling it over your shoulders to hide your chest.

"if i had known you would be moaning for me i wouldn't have done it in public."

he says, trying to lighten the mood.

"so you would do it in private?"

you look at him, dumbfounded by the audacity of the man in front of you to crack such jokes.

"only if you wanted me to."

he says, walking ahead of you while laughing. you scoff angrily, catching up to him.

"you're a freak!"

"i'm not the one that moaned in public because of my best friend."

the smirk he wore on his face was smug, but you couldn't lie and say you didn't consider his offer after that.

༄ ༄ ༄

Nicholas:

he called you over to the practice room one day, asking for help on this new choreography that he was trying to learn. you had both met in a dance academy so he knew he could rely on you as a dance partner to help him out.

thinking that it wasn’t going to be anything too vigorous, you opted for a comfy outfit, a simple hoodie and leggings and no bra. heading to the room, you greet your best friend with a hug.

“Y/N!”

Nicholas calls out. you hadn’t seen him in a while with his group being so busy promoting and preparing for a comeback and tour, so naturally you were really excited to see him again.

“Nicho!”

after catching up for a bit, he showed you the choreo, laughing a little when you tried to replicate the moves with just your arms first. once you felt you had the hand movements down, you stood up to practice the actual steps of the dance, the footwork a little confusing at first.

after practicing by yourself for a while, you told Nicholas that you were ready to practice with him, going over each move step by step. he was having difficulty executing the move smoothly. the way he was doing it made the dance feel segmented instead of flowing naturally with his body. the move required him to spin into a backflip, then having to continue the dance without getting dizzy as the footwork was hard.

you practiced over and over again, helping him with his spins into the flip, but each time he’d mess up the footwork afterwards, still slightly disoriented from the spin-flip.

you tell him to rest a little, practicing the moves separately at first before trying to combine them. you started off fine, facing the same struggles as him before understanding how you kept yourself oriented. Nicholas just stood there, watching as you tried over and over again to perfect the move. he could tell you were starting to get a little dizzy yourself, the speed in combination with such difficult moves catching up to you.

you tried again, losing control of your spin. you braced yourself, expecting your back to hit the hardwood floor, but never feeling the impact. instead, you look up, opening your eyes to see a wide-eyed Nicho looking down at you in horror.

“geez, do I look that ugly from this angle? why do you look so scared?”

but it isn’t until the adrenaline wears off that you feel it: both of Nicholas’s hands cupping your unsupported tits. your eyes go just as wide as his before you find the footing to get yourself up.

“why aren’t you wearing a bra? we’re practicing a dance!”

“i didn’t think it was gonna be this hard! bras are uncomfortable!”

you’re yelling at each other out of embarrassment, the blush on both of your cheeks the same color as Nicho’s hair, but he couldn't argue your logic.

"next time i ask you to practice can you please wear a bra?"

"why? its not like you'll have to hold them again."

"well what if i do?"

and you look at him confused, cause why would he need to hold your boobs for a dance?

"if you do then you're a pervert for wanting to hold them again. too good to keep your hands off?"

he looks away from you as if your stare could turn him into stone, but his silence intrigues you.

"oh my god Nicholas do you want to hold my boobs again?"

"well not when you put it like that, you weirdo."

he grumbles, hands in his face that he even admitted that in the first place.

"if you can perfect this part by the end of the day i'll let you hold them again."

his head shoots up from his palms, the motivation to learn the dance rushing back. he gets up without a word, practicing again.

"and i'm the weirdo."

༄ ༄ ༄

Euijoo:

you had asked him to study at library together. you both had exams coming up, but you didn't want to study alone, so you called him to keep you company knowing he had his own work to catch up on.

"hey Y/N! thanks for inviting me out to study with you. i've gotten so sick and tired of being holed away in my dorm. Nicholas can be a handful sometimes."

he sighs, putting his stuff down across from you at the library table. you laugh, enjoying his little anecdote.

"i've only met him a couple of times, but he does seem a little high-maintenance. i'm glad i could get you out of there for a bit! i know i'm gonna be here for at least 4 hours studying for this exam."

you sigh, getting ready to bury yourself in your books, catching a glimpse of Euijoo putting his glasses on above your laptop screen. you didn't want to admit it to yourself, but you had been crushing on Euijoo for a while now. you felt wrong about it, knowing that he was your best friend and that he probably didn't see you in that way.

about an hour into your study session, you look around your work space, overwhelmed at the amount of papers and books you have scoured open to write this essay. it was a 15-page research paper for your biomed class that required you to search through published books you couldn't find online. you stand up, alerting Euijoo of your plan to search for a particular book, not to mention the fact that you needed to stretch your legs. he nods, going back to his work.

you don't travel very far, still within Euijoo's line of sight as you come across the biomed section. you scan the bookshelf, silently cheering when you find the book. you go on your tippy-toes, the book much higher on the shelf than you were able to distinguish upon initially seeing it. you kept trying, just barely grazing the book each time.

looking up from his laptop, he notices your struggle, finding it cute before chuckling to himself and getting up to help you.

"need some help?"

he chuckles, watching you struggle some more. you turn to face him, about to say yes when you feel your hand on the book slip, knocking it out of place. Euijoo moves quickly, grabbing your waist to move you out of the way of the book's fall, or what he thought was your waist.

you look up at him, surprised etched on your face, one because of how quickly he reacted in moving you out of the way, essentially protecting you, but two because of his risqué hand placement, especially since you chose today of all days not to wear a bra underneath your hoodie. it didn't help that he was holding onto you so tight, effectively squeezing your tits.

"are you okay? you didn't get hurt, right?"

you smile at his concern, shaking your head 'no,' awkwardly pointing your finger at his hand that was still wrapped around you, probably out of shock and making sure you were okay. the blush on your face makes so much sense to him now, reeling his hand back in horror after realizing what he had been holding this whole time, but he couldn't help but think about how your tits felt in his hands, especially without a bra.

"oh my god i'm so sorry. i guess i underestimated our height difference, i thought i was holding your waist..."

you found his nervousness adorable but you thanked him nonetheless for helping you out.

"do you usually not wear bras?"

your entire body heats up at his question, not expecting him to be so bold. you shake your head, looking down to avoid his gaze while picking up the dropped book.

"i normally do wear them, but they do get uncomfy, maybe i shouldn't wear them as often."

you look up to see his reaction, his face the same shade of red as yours. you exchange quiet glances during the rest of your study session, not being able to shake the thought of your crush holding your boobs.

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

[munthersahweel1]

‼️Please Help Munther Sahweel Family 🙏

Help Munther to get him treatment

We are the Munther family, from Gaza, a family of 6 members.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #256 )✅️

I have witnessed a tragedy in our lives in Gaza, where my family and I have survived many wars before. But today, we are facing the most dangerous and fiercest battle of the current war. The need is urgent for us, as we have nothing left and cannot secure our basic needs such as food, water, medicine and safe shelter.

Here is our story - On October 7th, our lives changed forever. My family and I left northern Gaza for southern Gaza, hoping to return soon, but that was not to be. Our home was surrounded and destroyed. Our home, once a bastion of hope, now lies in ruins, a stark reminder of our shattered dreams.

We left our home, and we left behind everything we had in our home: clothes, important official documents, literally almost everything - the magnitude of our loss weighed heavily on us.

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

I am Munther, I suffer from kidney problems (kidney stones) and chronic diseases (diabetes and high blood pressure). I face difficulty in obtaining the necessary medications.

My story with my sons, Karim 28 years old Information Technology major , Samir 26 years old, Bachelor of Accounting, Aseel 24 years old, studying business administration, and Layan 13 years old, a student.

We all feel psychological pressure and extreme anxiety. The war hasn't been limited to external attacks but has deeply infiltrated our daily lives. We search among the rubble for a little safety and the basic resources for survival. Every day comes with a new challenge that we must overcome.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

I need to build a better future for my sons, full of hope because we deserve life with all its meanings of comfort and peace.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

The aim of this fundraising campaign is to save my family - we have no source of income to provide food, drink and medicine, this campaign is our only chance to survive, and I humbly ask for your help in this critical time.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #256 )✅️

Donation link on GoFundMe

Thank you for your kindness and support.

[ladyrosemone]

My favorite

We've got all the ingredients, except you needing me - Cake, Melanie Martinez

I'm using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ Please excuse any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies, I swear I'm studying to improve my written English 😭 This idea came to me thanks to @kiwisandpearls, I loved your take on the abandoned Waynes haha! I'll definitely be making more at some point.

The Waynes, the most powerful and influential family in Gotham City, the diamond that gives it an artificial shine, replacing the forgetful Sun, which never seems to illuminate those lands of darkness.

What makes the Waynes different from other Gotham millionaires is not their humility, nor their sense of duty to their employees and followers, much less their reckless extravagance when it comes to spreading their (according to gossip) infinite wealth.

No, none of that, it's something more private, more intimate.

Love.

At first no one believed that, because come on, Bruce Wayne? The greatest playboy known throughout the world, with adopted children as if they were precious jewels every season, conceited and proud, a philanthropic genius of unfair beauty? In love? Pure gossip that entertained for a while, but was never more than that, gossip for the elite and showbiz for the lower class.

Until a newspaper (one that does not usually produce so many fallacies), revealed its newest scandal.

"Bruce Wayne Spotted With Young Beauty! Has Gotham's Biggest Mogul Finally Settled Down?"

If that wasn't enough, they were right, because the next launch came with Olympic magnitudes!

"Bruce Wayne's Child Finally Revealed! Gives Exclusive Interview About Him Sudden Return"

And how do we get to this?

When a man loves a woman...oh no, that's not how it started.

It was a woman from his youth, one who left when the next day and returned when Batman appeared in Gotham City.

You arrived as a ten-year-old child; small and confused, scared and insecure, longing for you deceased mother and the life you left behind with her. Bruce didn't know how to relate to you at first, and having an angry, newly orphaned child didn't make him any better, but he tried, he really did.

And little by little it worked...only in one child.

You could never get over the loss of your mother, she was your whole world and now you were with this...man who claims to be your father, a father you never had and out of nowhere he gives you things and takes you to his work to meet more boring old men. To make matters worse, that child he adopted out of charity is irritating, one day bothering you for being "spoiled" and the next wanting to spend a sibling afternoon with you.

But you don't have brothers.

You didn't have them when Jason arrived (although you cried for him), you didn't have them when Tim arrived and definitely not when Damian arrived and his arrogant attitude of the legitimate son wanting to hang out with only you. It's frustrating! Every second of the day is a request from someone to go out, to eat together, to...For anything to keep them attached like fleas!

You remember one of Richard's last attempts, before he left Gotham for an exchange, or for you a chance to get away from that family;

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast that she had prepared herself because it makes you uncomfortable to have an older man serving you, when Richard appears with his hundred-dollar smile and a lot of irritating energy.

"Hello hello!" He greets you with his usual energy "How did my favorite person wake up?"

It's too early for this you think tiredly, taking a sip of coffee.

Your lack of response doesn't discourage him, it motivates him more for some strange reason "I have wonderful news, I got a vacation from work! And guess where we're going?"

"We're going?" Bored questions, annoyed by the new plan that you were not consulted about, again.

"That's the spirit! Let's go to Disneyland!"

"..." you look at him with dead eyes, and with all your heart you wonder how that big boy is a functional adult "I can't today, but ask me tomorrow, I'll surely be free to go"

"Really?"

"No"

Next is Jason, who although he was not as insistent as Richard, was the most energetic in his attempts, then the Joker thing happened and...well, you can't treat him badly, you're not cruel.

But coming back from the dead is his pity card, used so many times that you wonder every day if it became an excuse at some point.

"Hey" he said to you one day when he found you in the library "There's an art and literature exhibition in the downtown library, let's go"

"...I'm already reading"

"You can read with me and shop at the same time, you like shopping don't you?"

"I like my time alone with my book, Jason"

"You didn't used to say the same thing, but that's what makes you die, it leaves you thinking about your past life..."

"..."

"...Are you coming?"

"I hope you get hit by a car"

Tim is a silent pusher, he doesn't come close but you know he's there, and that happens brr brr every minute with a brr brr new message.

"Where are you?"

"Are you really asking me?"

"I give you the benefit of the doubt"

"I'm going to block you"

"Again?"

"The computers of the whole city"

Virtual annoyance has been disconnected

And Damian...OMG Damian.

It's a nuisance, a sharp little nuisance; refusing to leave your side whenever he can, demanding attention, time together, activities and visits to any place he wants.

"Sibling" greets the boy, who doesn't even know where he came from if you're at university right now and he should be at school.

"What are you doing here Damian?" You demanded harshly, looking everywhere so that no one would associate Bruce Wayne's youngest son with you, not when you did your best not to be recognized as a Wayne since you were a child.

"I want to go save wildlife in Africa from hunters and I need an adult to accompany me" he explains as if it were the most normal thing in the world, another Thursday for him.

"Tell Bruce-"

"Father"

"Let me take you, or take Richard, don't bother me"

"And I don't want adopted children, I want my blood accompanying me in this mission to safeguard wildlife"

"If I tell you if you leave?"

"Are you going with me?"

"Yes yes whatever"

You didn't go.

And not to mention the collateral damage; Barbara and her constant moments of togetherness solving cases (you don't answer her messages), Stephenie and her desire for you to teach her how to cook (you never go to the mansion's kitchen), Cassandra wanting to be by your side (years with Bruce allowed you to develop a sixth sense to evade his shadows), and the newest, Duke Thomas.

He is fine...he keeps his distance, and deliberately ignores the fact that not a single light bothers his eyesight all day.

The worst of all, your father, Bruce Wayne.

Money, gifts, trips, clothes, portraits, everything he can give you, he gives it to you, so much so that you feel like drowning sometimes.

It is strict and suffocating, affectionate but distant, present and absent at the same time. It is annoying and contradictory!

He was the reason you went on exchange to Metropolis, until you discovered that the Kents were close friends of your father and that their approach was not of good will, relocating you to Spain until you finished university.

Reluctantly you had to go back, just long enough to finish the paperwork and stop being Wayne once and for all.

But that was your mistake, coming home, and this time they won't let you go, because you can't hate them more and that's an opportunity for them.

[sansaorgana]

benny saving you from abusive bf or dad :(

hello, love! thank you for your request 🥰 I was self-indulgent and chose an abusive dad lol proceed with caution because there is lots of physical violence / domestic abuse in this fic

requests for benny are open 🥺🎀

You were dolling yourself up for the date with Benny in your room upstairs – putting makeup on, brushing your hair, spraying perfume and singing along to the rock and roll songs you played. Perhaps a little bit too loud because you couldn’t hear the rapid footsteps approaching your bedroom. When the door opened, you got startled as you turned around to see your angry father.

“What is it?” You asked, irritated already because he didn’t knock.

He looked you up and down with contempt and pointed at the record player.

“Turn that shit down,” he barked at you. “I’ve just come back from work, I want to fucking rest, I can’t even hear the goddamn TV because of this crap! I’ve told you already that if you want to listen to this sort of music, you’re free to do so when you’re home alone!” He raised his voice and you sighed.

“I didn’t hear you coming back home, gee,” you rolled your eyes and you approached the record player but you didn’t turn the music off, just slightly decreased the volume.

“You would have heard if you weren’t listening to this! And what are you, deaf now? I’ve told you to turn that shit down,” your father grabbed you by your arm and then pushed you away.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Perhaps at this point you should be used to him being like that. But you couldn’t. To some things you just couldn’t get used to, no matter how many times they’d happen. You would never understand why your dad couldn’t treat you like his precious princess. Why was he raising you the way some other men raised their sons – some bastards, of course. Because not every son was treated like this by their father. And you were a girl treated like dirt.

The way he treated you was much more than the constant stress at home – no, that you would survive. It was going deeper. It was about the way you had this feeling deep down inside that no man could ever love and protect you because your own father couldn’t. Yeah, you were dating Benny now but you weren’t sure what his feelings towards you truly were like. Benny was not a man of many words and he wouldn’t open up – especially about his feelings.

“What are you doing, by the way?” Your father asked when you finally turned the record player down and hid the vinyl away. “You’re going out?”

“Yeah! Do I need your permission?” You snapped and he clenched his jaw.

“What’s going on here?” Your mother peeked inside the room with widened eyes, already fearing her husband’s tantrum.

“She’s going out to waste away all the money again,” he pointed at you.

“She’s an adult, it’s just a date,” your mother stood up for you.

“And I spend my own money. I work!” You reminded him angrily and went back to brushing your hair in front of the mirror, pretending everything was fine.

“Why can other young people save their money to be able to move out of their parents’ house and you just want to go out and spend money on parties all the time because apparently being a parasite is not a problem for you?!” Your father yelled and your mother started to shush him.

The accusations were so wrong. You weren’t even partying much. It was just a date with Benny and how much would you spend? Nothing, really. A few pennies for the milkshake maybe but the chances were Benny would pay for it anyway.

“She’s just going out on a date,” your mother explained to your father, trying to calm him down but it had the opposite effect. His eyes widened as his fists clenched.

“With that… That dirty… That dirty punk?!” He asked as his booming tone echoed through the walls. “Haven’t I told you, you stupid girl, I don’t want to see you around him?!”

“Dad, stop!” You hissed at the feeling of his grip on your arm again. This time he didn’t let go, no, he was squeezing and squeezing, trying to twist it.

“Stop it!” Your mother tried to intervene but he pushed her away.

“Dad, you’re hurting me!”

“It’s nothing compared to what that bastard will put you through! My daughter won’t end up like a common whore!” He was yelling and you saw the blind rage in his eyes – he was gone now, completely out of common sense, driven only by his rage and fury.

His yelling, your squealing and your mother’s crying were so loud that you didn’t hear the sound of the motorbike’s engine parking outside. Benny jumped off of his bike and leaned on it, waiting for you. But when he reached for the cigarette, he froze for a moment as he realised that the yelling noises came from the room upstairs inside your house. He glanced up and noticed that the window to your room was half open.

He hid the cigarette away and furrowed his brow.

“Dad, let go of me!” You squealed and Benny saw your silhouette in the grip of your father as he slapped your face.

“I’ve told you to shut the fuck up, both of you!” He yelled. “Congratulations,” he addressed another woman inside your room. “Your daughter is now a whore just like you, hanging out with those bums and punks and dirty fucking bikers…” He looked at you again. “You stink of them! The rotten stench on you, you’re a whore!”

Benny’s blood boiled at the scene he was witnessing. You had mentioned earlier that your father was “an asshole” but he had never expected this sort of asshole. He thought he was just mean and grumpy.

He wasn’t thinking straight anymore. He approached the front door and tried to open them but they were closed. So, with one kick of his boot, he broke inside. He couldn’t care less about the fucking door.

You didn’t even hear that. All you could hear was your father’s yelling and your mother crying. Your arm in his grip, your cheeks wet from tears and stinging from his slaps. It was one of those moments when you didn’t even care whether you would live or die anymore. In fact, you wished he would just kill you and make it all stop.

You saw his hand raising again to hit you once more when the door to your room opened rapidly and you all froze, turning around to see Benny himself.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him but your father’s grip tightened even more. He blinked a few times with his mouth half open and Benny was breathing heavily with his face reddened from anger.

Before your father could act, Benny approached him and punched him in his face so hard that your father let go of you completely.

“What are you doing! Stop!” Your mother squealed and grabbed Benny’s sleeve but he ignored her to deliver one more punch – this time in your father’s guts.

He fell down to the ground and Benny was kicking him without even saying a word. He was like an animal, you thought. And your mother still cried and squealed and begged – pathetically, really. How could she defend your father suddenly? And he… He was only grunting as his face was getting bloody. You saw it all in slow motion.

Benny delivered a final kick and spat on your father before pushing your mother away gently, with a shrug of his arms.

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you,” he drawled through his gritted teeth at your father and finally turned around to face you.

“You okay?” He asked, a hint of worry in his face as he visibly softened. You were standing there, petrified and trembling slightly. But his question finally brought you back to reality.

“Let’s get outta here,” you only whispered and grabbed his rough hand to lead him downstairs as fast as possible.

You noticed the broken door and looked at him as if he was crazy.

“Sorry,” he shrugged his arms and your heart filled with love.

No man had ever protected you like that before. No man had ever made you feel safe either. You would marry him right away if he asked.

“Don’t be,” you only said and went outside to approach his motorbike.

You both jumped on it and drove away as fast as possible. You didn’t even care where he was taking you. If you’d never go back home – you were okay with that.

But Benny took you to the club. He led you inside gently and some of the boys widened their eyes at you.

“What the fuck happened to her?” Johnny asked and squinted his eyes at Benny as if he was accusing him of something.

Benny didn’t answer and just walked you to the bathroom. He closed the door behind you and you saw yourself in the mirror. Oh, now you understood why they were giving you funny looks. You had a bruise on your cheek, your makeup was smudged from crying and your hair was ruffled.

“You okay?” Benny stood behind you to put his hands on your arms. “Hey, doll, look at me,” he asked and you looked up as you turned around.

Now, when it was just the two of you and you finally felt safe, the tension left your body and you sobbed as you clung to him. Benny wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer as he hid his face in your hair. 

“I’m sorry, kitty, I had no idea he was like that…”

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled between the sobs.

“I just can’t understand… How can a father treat his daughter like that? A little dollie like you?” Benny was in genuine disbelief. “Hey, listen, let’s fix that, hm?” He moved away slightly and started to brush your hair with his fingers but it was only making it look worse. “Ugh, shit,” he chuckled. “I’ve an idea. I’ll take you to Johnny’s. Betty will know what to do,” Benny proposed and you nodded shyly as you sniffed and wiped your cheeks from the remaining tears. “And, hey,” Benny grabbed your wrists gently to move them away from your face as he leaned in, “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again, do you hear me?” He was serious about it and you nodded.

He joined your lips together in a sweet and delicate kiss as if you were made of glass. Benny had never kissed you like that before but now he thought you needed that more than anything – the gentleness.

“I can’t offer you much, kitty, but I won’t ever do you no harm,” he promised in a whisper. “I wanna take care of you.”

His words were healing the broken pieces inside you and you felt like sobbing again. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed your chest to his to feel his heartbeat.

“You’re already offering me enough, Benny,” you assured him and he kissed the top of your head, feeling the tears pricking his own eyes now but he sniffed them away.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[mhammedmosa72]

Hello my friend, I am Muhammad, the father of an only child whom my wife gave birth to during the harsh war. We are going through very difficult circumstances under the missiles and indiscriminate bombing. I have sent many messages to others and have not succeeded in collecting donations for my child in order to buy him milk and the necessary materials. You had mercy in your heart for my child, so donate today. I'm telling you, the price of milk is $100 and Pampers are $150. I just want to contribute to getting them. I don't want a lot. I just want a little, even if it's a few dollars, to spend on my child. Donate them. For my child, and I will pray and pray for you, my friend. Imagine that your donation, even a little, will help. Imagine that you spent $10 to buy candy for you. My child is most in need of the $10 donation. Your conscience will be clear, and of course you can write to me and check on my campaign. If you want to talk to me, video me and I will show you the extent of the famine and destruction. This will be good. I will write. Note: I can lie a lot in my story, and my lying may be useful in collecting donations quickly, but I am honest with myself and with you, and I will never lie. My child is the most precious thing in my life, and I only want a better life for my son

https://gofund.me/25affbbb

https://gofund.me/25affbbb

[lunnybunny12]

Stolas x wife reader (happy families)

(part 1)

Masterlist

Requests open

A Goetia party was always a talking point in hell. And for good reason. From kings to lowborns, everyone and anyone from the Goitias were invited.

The hall was practically dripping with wealth. Ladies draped with the finest silks and velvets, in floor-length gowns and sprinkled with jewels and gems. The gentlemen, groomed to perfection, wore luxurious suits with matching: shirts, hats, tailcoats and cloaks. The smell of the fine food, collected from all across the seven rings drifted through the air along with a strong smell of absynthe and incense.

It was a classy affair, at least you would've thought so if you weren't 5 years old. In your little bird brain, you hated these parties. Granted this was your first one but you couldn't imagine anything more boring. So far you have been: stepped on, pushed and pulled in all directions, danced and if you smiled any more your lips would fall apart.

Your mother, on the other hand, lived for them. When you were small your mother would always pawn you off to a babysitter so she could be at a party. Every year she would work for at least a month to prepare for the occasion.

Not a single feather was out of place that night. Her talons and beak were buffed and polished and there wasn't a spec of anything but elegance ( and annoyance) on her.

"(Y/N)! stop fidgeting you'll ruin my dress" she crowed, dragging you behind her.

"But Mama I-"

Your mother sent you a look that choked the words in your throat and bent down to dust off your dress.

"No buts. you be on your best behaviour. I won't have you embarrass me in front of a king"

Faster than you could comprehend, your mother composed herself and shoved you in front of her.

You slammed face-first into something. Tears were pooling at the corners of your eyes when a sweet voice said "Oh goodness, I'm sorry are you alright?

The boy in front of you was around your age maybe a year older. He was an inch or two taller than you and had 2 large, kind, red eyes that met yours.

"This is my daughter (Y/N). Isn't she just... Precious" your mother said pulling her face into the biggest smile you'd ever seen.

Your eyes travelled up to who she was talking to. The man toward over you and your mother. His blood-red eyes stared down at you like he was staring into your soul.

The owl grumbled to himself before planting a fake smile on his face.

"Isn't she darling? Allow me to introduce my son... uh. Fuck, what's your name?"

"Stolas, father."

"STOLAS! of course. My son, Prince Stolas."

The young owl lowered his head earning a slap.

"Don't bow to THAT one. They bow to us." The man hissed.

Your mother grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a bow, making you slip and fall into Stolas, who caught you.

"(Y/N)!" your mother whispered sharply, tearing you away from Stolas and dragging you behind her.

The whole time you felt your mother's claws dig into your skin making you wince in pain.

Eventually, when your mother let you go you managed to sneak away and scurried to the first place you could find, under a table.

It wasn't the worst place to hide, the tablecloth draped down to the floor on all sides so you couldn't be seen. Through your misty eyes, you'd see shadows pass by. If you weren't so upset you'd actually enjoy your little nook.

"Hello?" someone hooted to you.

You immediately dried your face and tried to stand, hitting your head on the underside of the table.

You locked eyes with the young prince, who by this point was fully under the table with you, and fell face-first to the ground in embarrassment.

Stolas crawled to you with a slight giggle in his voice. "Are you ok?"

"Yes Your Highness I'm fine. My head hurts that's all." You mumbled into the carpet.

"Here let's get you to sit up. I can't really hear you."

Stolas could see that you were upset, your eyes were still puffy and your face was wet.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

You sniffled and fake smiled "Im alright Your Highness"

"Please call me Stolas" he lowered his head to a bow

[aspenmissing]

ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇꜱᴛ

ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ) || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 3074 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴀʙᴏᴜʀ (ɴᴏ ʙɪʀᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ), ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ʙᴀʙʏ, ᴄᴜᴛᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏᴀᴅ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱᴏɴ, ᴇʟɪᴀꜱ, ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴜᴍᴏʀ. ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴇʟɪᴀꜱ'ꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀᴛ ɴᴜʀꜱᴇʀʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇʀ, ᴄʜᴇʀɪꜱʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀɪᴛɪᴇꜱ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 || ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3 || ᴘᴀʀᴛ 4

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴇʟɪᴀꜱ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ

When the day finally came, you were in the lab with Viktor. He was focused on his work, the rhythmic sound of his tools providing a soothing background melody as you lounged nearby, flipping through a book. The quiet was suddenly interrupted by a sharp sensation, and then a warmth spreading beneath you. For a moment, you both froze, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock.

“He’s early,” you finally managed to whisper, your voice tinged with equal parts awe and panic.

Viktor’s gaze darted from you to the growing puddle on the floor, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Before either of you could act, Jayce burst into the room, his usual exuberance filling the space.

“Did you two spill something again?” he teased, grinning, until his eyes caught the scene before him—your shocked expression, Viktor’s stunned silence, and the unmistakable evidence on the floor.

The color drained from his face as realization hit him. “Oh... oh no. Uh... I’ll get help! Hang on!” Jayce practically tripped over himself as he spun around and bolted out the door.

Moments later, amidst the chaos, Viktor helped you to your feet, his hands trembling slightly as he steadied you. The rush to the infirmary was a blur, and soon after, your son made his entrance into the world—weeks earlier than expected but healthy and strong.

When you finally held him in your arms, Viktor was right there by your side, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He sat beside you on the bed, his cane resting against it, his posture still and attentive, as though he feared disturbing the moment. His hands, steady despite the overwhelming emotion coursing through him, reached out, and with a reverence that made your heart swell, he cradled the tiny, squirming bundle.

"Hello, můj syn," he whispered, his voice cracking. (My son.) His thumb brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "Welcome to the world."

The softness in his gaze wasn’t new—it was something you had come to recognize over the years, a quiet tenderness that had grown in him, evolving beyond his once-obsessive focus on his work, his innovations, and his ambitions. But seeing it now, as he cradled your son in his arms, it was different. It was deeper, more profound, as if the very essence of his being had shifted to make room for this fragile new life you had both brought into the world. His fingers traced the curve of your son’s tiny hand with such care, as though memorizing every detail, every precious moment, imprinting it into his heart.

The cane beside him, usually a symbol of his struggles and limitations, now seemed utterly irrelevant in the face of this new, beautiful reality. With every gentle shift, every tender movement of your son in his arms, Viktor seemed to shed the weight of everything else, becoming more at peace than you had ever seen him. This was the culmination of everything—the love, the pain, the trials—and it all led to this perfect moment. Together, you had built a family, and in this instant, nothing else mattered.

A day later, when the world had settled into a calm stillness, there came a soft knock at the door—a gentle tap, as if Jayce had been waiting for the perfect moment to intrude. He had given you both time, knowing how important it was for new parents to bond with their child before the rest of the world returned to reality.

The door creaked open just a little, and Jayce stepped inside, a quiet smile on his face. His eyes went immediately to your son, swaddled snugly in your arms, sleeping peacefully. He stepped closer, carrying a bundle of balloons in one hand, the bright colours a cheerful contrast to the soft tones of the room. In his other hand, he held a small teddy bear, its round face friendly and inviting.

“I thought it might be time to finally say hello,” Jayce said softly, his voice low and respectful of the serene moment you were all sharing. He puts the balloons in the corner of my room - the weight keeping them from flying around, before he walks quietly over to you, gently placing his hand on your arm, his gaze never leaving the tiny form in your arms. "Looks like he’s already got you both wrapped around his little finger.”

Viktor, who had been watching Jayce with a quiet appreciation, nodded slightly, but words weren’t necessary. The soft smile that crossed Viktor's face said everything.

Jayce reached over, lightly touching the teddy bear to your son's tiny hand, the gesture soft and filled with a kind of tenderness that matched the moment. “He’s perfect,” Jayce said, his voice barely a whisper, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile stillness of the room.

Viktor sat back slightly, his gaze never leaving the tiny bundle in your arms. There was a thoughtful pause before he broke the silence, his voice soft but warm.

“You know, Jayce…” Viktor began, his tone slightly teasing yet sincere. “If you’re interested, you’re welcome to hold him. He’s certainly not as intimidating as some of the machines you’ve built.”

Jayce hesitated, glancing from Viktor to the little one in your arms. His eyes flickered with uncertainty, and for a moment, you wondered if he might decline, still unsure of this delicate moment. But Viktor’s calm presence and your own gentle nod of encouragement seemed to reassure him.

You smiled, offering a soft, welcoming gesture. “It’s alright, Jayce. We’d love for you to hold him. He’d probably love meeting his uncle”

Jayce stood quietly for a moment, the uncertainty lingering in his gaze, before he slowly nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He moved toward the chair beside your bed and sat down, his posture a little stiff but intent. Viktor gently lifted the swaddled baby from your arms, his movements slow and careful as he passed your son over to Jayce.

Jayce cradled the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he gazed down at the tiny, peaceful face. The tension in his shoulders relaxed, and a genuine warmth spread across his features. His eyes flickered up to Viktor and then back down to the newborn.

“So,” Jayce asked after a moment, his voice a little hushed in reverence. “What’s the name of the next great inventor?”

You and Viktor shared a look, a silent understanding passing between you both. Neither of you had quite expected this moment to feel so emotional, but there it was, the question hanging in the air, waiting for an answer.

With a gentle smile, you spoke, your voice filled with warmth and pride. “His name is Elias Jayce.”

Jayce froze, his eyes widening in shock. He glanced between you and Viktor, as though trying to grasp the full weight of the name. He blinked a couple of times, his breath catching in his throat. “Wait, what?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Elias... Jayce? Did I hear that right?”

You repeated it, this time with a soft chuckle, “Yes, Elias Jayce.”

The room was quiet for a beat before Jayce’s eyes welled up with tears, his lips trembling as he cradled little Elias in the nook of his arm. His free hand rose to his face, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. The emotion overwhelmed him in a way he hadn't expected, and he allowed himself the rare moment of vulnerability.

“I'm... I’m honoured,” Jayce whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never thought... never thought I’d have anything like this.” He blinked away more tears, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. But the tears kept coming, a silent acknowledgment of the overwhelming love he felt in that moment.

Viktor, who had been watching Jayce with a quiet smile, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve earned it, Jayce,” he said softly. “You’ve been a part of this journey from the beginning.”

With his other hand, Jayce wiped away the remaining tears, trying to regain his composure, but his eyes remained moist, his focus still on the little life in his arms. He didn’t speak again for a while, lost in the moment, and you and Viktor let him. It was a moment that needed no words—just the shared connection of love, family, and the bond between friends.

In the months that followed, your small home was filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of Elias’s breathing, the steady hum of the world outside, and the warmth of the little family you had built together. The first few weeks were nothing short of a whirlwind. Sleep was a distant memory, replaced with the sweet scent of baby lotion, the soothing lull of a rocking chair, and the sound of your quietly humming a tune while Elias lay in your arms.

There were nights when Elias would refuse to sleep, his cries filling the quiet room until, finally, exhausted, you both managed to calm him. One such night, after another hour of pacing and rocking, Viktor sighed, looking down at his son with an amused smile.

“He’s definitely mine,” Viktor said softly, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s as if he only wants to be awake when the sun is down.”

You chuckled, brushing your hand through your hair. “I’m starting to think he’s your son in more ways than one.”

Viktor’s lips quirked, and he laughed, the tiredness in his eyes replaced with a glimmer of affection. “Perhaps he’s a bit of a night owl, then. Like father, like son.”

As a year and a bit passes, those long nights gradually gave way to moments of light. Elias, a curious and active 1 and a half year old, began to explore the world around him. He took his first steps one crisp afternoon, his chubby legs wobbling with each movement. You were in the kitchen when it happened, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to see him standing on his own, a wobbly smile on his face.

“Elias,” you whispered, watching him take a shaky step, then another. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Viktor was right behind you, his eyes wide in disbelief. “He’s walking. He’s really walking.”

Elias took a few tentative steps, his little feet wobbling as he reached out for the nearby couch, his face lit up with concentration. But when he caught sight of you, he smiled, a joyful giggle escaping him as he took a few more steps forward.

You couldn’t help but gasp, watching in awe as your son wobbled but held steady on his own two feet.

Viktor’s gaze was fixed on him, his breath catching in his chest. For a moment, the room seemed to fade around him. He blinked, his fingers trembling slightly at his sides, as though his mind was processing what he was seeing.

“He’s walking,” Viktor repeated, his voice quieter this time, a note of awe in it. “But… he’s walking perfectly.”

You glanced at him, seeing the realization dawn on his face. Viktor stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Elias as he continued his little journey toward you. He was careful, slow, but every step seemed more confident than the last.

“His legs... they’re—” Viktor’s voice faltered, and for a moment, it seemed like he might not finish his sentence. “He’s… he’s not like me.”

You looked at Viktor, the weight of his words settling between you. He had always feared that his son would inherit the same struggles, the same deformities that had plagued him for years, making it difficult for him to walk, to move as freely as he wished. Yet here was Elias, barely more than a toddler, taking steps without hesitation, without the same limitations Viktor had learned to cope with.

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat as Elias reached toward him, his tiny arms outstretched in excitement, his face lighting up with a joyful grin.

Viktor froze for a moment, his heart thumping in his chest as he looked at his son, so small, so full of life. Slowly, as if the weight of the moment demanded it, Viktor sank to his knees, never breaking eye contact with Elias. The world seemed to pause, the air thick with emotion, as he opened his arms wide.

Elias giggled, his little feet shuffling excitedly as he toddled straight into his father’s embrace. Viktor caught him gently, pulling him into a tight hug, his heart soaring at the feel of his son in his arms. The sound of Elias’s laughter filled the room, a melody that Viktor would never tire of.

“You’re perfect,” Viktor whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his hands gently holding Elias as if he could hardly believe how real this moment was. The little boy squirmed in his father’s arms, eager to explore, but Viktor held him a little tighter, unwilling to let go of the quiet, precious moment they shared.

You watched them, your heart swelling with an overwhelming love for both of them. “He always would have been,” you replied softly, the words wrapped in warmth and tenderness, as you gazed at your son.

Elias, still nestled against Viktor’s chest, looked up at you with a wide, innocent grin, his eyes sparkling with pure joy. He let out a playful gurgle and reached for you, his tiny hands outstretched.

Chuckling, you crouched down, your arms open to him, and Elias immediately wriggled free from Viktor’s hold, eager to be in your arms. As you lifted him up, the three of you shared a quiet, sacred moment. The kind of silence that was heavy with unspoken love, the kind that filled the space between heartbeats.

Months pass and Elias, now 2 years old, spoke his first word. It wasn’t “mama” or “papa,” but “Viktor,” clear as day, as he reached out to his father one sunny morning, arms lifted high.

Both you and Viktor froze, staring at the boy in stunned silence.

“Did he just—” you began, but Viktor cut you off, his brows furrowed in disbelief.

“He said… my name?” Viktor echoed, his tone half awed, half puzzled. “Why would he—?”

Before you could respond, the door opened, and Jayce walked in with a bright grin and a bag of fresh pastries. “Good morning, favorite little genius!” he greeted Elias cheerfully. “Where’s Viktor, huh? Your papa’s the best, right?”

Both you and Viktor turned to Jayce, the realization dawning on you like a sunrise. Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something in Czech, while you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jayce,” you said, pointing at the now-giggling Elias. “I think we’ve figured out why his first word is Viktor.”

Jayce blinked, confused for a moment, before his face broke into a sheepish grin. “Oh. Well, can you blame me? I mean, the kid’s got good taste.”

Viktor sighed dramatically, though his eyes shone with pride as he lifted Elias into his arms. “First words, and it’s my name. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I am rather impressive.”

Elias giggled, clutching his father’s shirt as Viktor kissed the top of his head. You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head at the both of them.

“Well, at least we know who to blame when his next word is ‘gear’ or ‘schematics,’” you teased, grinning at Jayce, who just laughed and shrugged.

But the biggest milestone came on the day Elias turned three. It was the day he went to nursery for the first time. The night before, you and Viktor had meticulously prepared everything—his tiny backpack, the lunch packed with love, and the first-day outfit that made him look far too grown-up for your liking. Elias was brimming with excitement, his wide, innocent grin lighting up the room as he bounced on his toes.

“Are you ready, love?” you asked, crouching down to his level to adjust the straps of his backpack.

“Ready!” Elias chirped, his voice filled with uncontainable joy.

The three of you stepped out together, Viktor leaning on his cane with practiced ease as he walked beside you. Elias darted ahead, his backpack bouncing with every enthusiastic step, but he always paused to look back, ensuring you and Viktor were keeping up.

When you finally arrived at the nursery, the bright colors of the building and the sound of children playing filled the air. Elias grabbed Viktor’s free hand, tugging him forward with a giddy laugh. Viktor chuckled softly, his steps slowing just slightly as they neared the door.

But as they stood there, with Elias peering up at the new adventure ahead, a strange look crossed Viktor’s face. His grip on his cane tightened, and his other hand gently ruffled Elias’s hair, as if committing this moment to memory.

“He’s growing up,” Viktor murmured, his voice low and tinged with emotion.

You glanced at him, noting the way his eyes glistened, and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s a good thing,” you reminded him gently. “He’s ready for this.”

“I know,” Viktor replied, blinking quickly as if to push the tears away. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Elias turned to look up at Viktor, his small hand patting his father’s leg. “Papa, come on!” he urged, his innocent excitement drawing a soft laugh from you both.

With a deep breath, Viktor crouched slightly, his cane steadying him as he kissed Elias’s forehead. “You’ll do wonderfully, můj syn” he said quietly, his words thick with pride.

You smiled as Elias skipped through the nursery doors, his little wave goodbye filling your heart with both pride and a pang of longing. Viktor stood rooted to the spot for a moment, his eyes following Elias until he disappeared inside.

“He’ll be fine,” you said, leaning into Viktor slightly, your arm brushing his.

Viktor let out a quiet sigh, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I know. But I may need a moment.”

You chuckled softly, slipping your arm through his. “Come on. We’ll grab some tea and sit in the park. You can gush about how brilliant he’s going to be.”

As the two of you turned to leave, Viktor glanced back at the nursery doors one last time, his heart full of pride for the little family you had built together.