#i wish those kids from back then would know what they have done

[hrts4nagi]

best friends brother!

my best friend's brother is the one for me!

pairing :: itoshi sae x gn!reader (short implied)

synopsis :: third year of high school and graduation is right around the corner! you have so many great and upcoming things up ahead. some planned and some unplanned.

what definitely wasn’t planned was falling for itoshi sae, more commonly known as your best friend’s brother.

what a way to break the pact.

wc :: 2.3k

extra :: i love the victorious sound track!!!! p.s listen to best friend's brother for a better experience :>

the best friend pact - rules:

#1 - always be happy for each other

#2 what was number two again?

#3 - do not fall for your itoshi sae

SUCCESS FAILED

shit.

well, to be completely fair it’s not like you meant to fall for itoshi sae right? it’s not like you were always searching for him as soon as you entered the room. it’s not like you didn’t mean to get lost in his gorgeous teal eyes. or the way you’d get sneak a peek at his abs whenever he had to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

who am i kidding?

you’re completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with itoshi sae. did i mention he was your best friend’s brother?

who knew a pact made 12 years ago would be the sole cause of your distress?

the rules have gotten fuzzy over the years but the one clear rule rin emphasized every time was to not fall for sae. he claimed it was because they have the same eyes, eyelashes, and name. he thinks it would be the equivalent of you dating him.

and he does not like the sound of that.

-

“reo i’m so screwed!” you flop onto his king-sized mattress rolling around face covering your eyes.

“hey! at least change out of your uniform before rolling around in my bed.” he scolds.

you stuck out your tongue at him in response earning a scoff back. “i wish i could lay hear all day," you sigh contently.

“that’s what i’ve been saying,” you yelp not noticing the white-haired boy under the covers.

gasping, you clutch your chest in shock. “what the hell, nagi? have you been here this whole time?”

“yah, you woke me up the second you landed on me.”

he rubs his eyes before sitting up. “hey, y/n while you’re here can you make those buldak noodles you always make? i really want something spicy."

“yeah sure, reo do you still any packets left?”

he sighs before pulling some out of the cabinet. “only for you guys.”

you slide a bowl over to nagi and reo. you lean onto the counter awaiting their response, tapping your fingers in anticipation.

“so what's up with ya?”

“stop eating with your mouth full.”

“it's sae.” you frown taking a seat at the counter across from the two.

nagi perks up his head. “oh, so you finally confessed to him?"

you slam your head down onto the counter in frustration.

“i'm taking that as a no.”

you slightly raise your head up to make eye contact with the two. “what do i do? if i act on my feelings, rin will kill me! falling for his older brother is the ultimate betrayal.”

“i don't think you're betraying him, per se,” reo defends. “think of it more like bending the rules a bit!”

“i'm completely breaking the rules reo. the golden rule for that matter!” you argue.

“huh, well that's unfortunate.”

-

study sessions at rin’s was commonplace. having a terrible habit of bad time management and being a professional procrastinator, rin dragged you willingly forcefully to his house after school, to get all the studying done. but don't worry, it came with perks!

#1: free tutor

#2: free snacks

#3: getting an occasional glimpse of sae

"for english, there's a lot of words that have a silent-"

rin's words drown out as you begin daydreaming. losing complete track of rin's current lesson, you turn your head towards the backyard, where you see sae dribbling the ball outside. watching his figure run by every other second.

“you know if you’re gonna stare at my brother, can you at least do it when i’m not in the general vicinity?” rin deadpanned.

“i wasn’t oggling at sae,” raising up your arms in defense.

rin raised an eyebrow at your choice of words. “what was i talking about then?”

“uhm,” you ponder attempting to trace back your steps. crap. you were way too focused watching sae to even comprehend what rin was saying. the lesson is completely bleary in your mind.

“about our upcoming exam right!” rin lightly smacked your head with his notebook in response. you rub the area he hit before looking at him with a pout.

“wrong, i was talking about my upcoming game which you’re going to. right?” rin points his pencil at you accusingly.

“yup! wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

you nestle back into the couch trying to regain focus on the question in front of you. unfortunately, your mind began to wander elsewhere. every time you close your eyes to think of the solution of the equation, the image of sae would flash in your head.

first, you'd see his deep teal eyes, donned with his infamous bottom eyelashes. you swear you could get lost in them all day. next, the shaggy magenta hair that managed to look 100x better when styled down.

what were you doing? aren't you supposed to be studying?

you shut your textbook quickly, startling rin in the process.

“i’ll be back, i think i need a drink.” rin nods in response as you usher to the kitchen.

you sigh looking down at the glass of water, swishing it around. unaware, you turn without realizing there was someone in your pathway. colliding with a hard chest as the glass shatters to the kitchen floor.

you crossed your fingers hoping you didn't bump into last first person you wanted to see.

“woah careful.”

there stands itoshi sae. you notice his hair being slightly damp, presumably from the exercise drills he just completed. you snap out of it, realizing you were staring at him longer than necessary.

“shit, i’m sorry,” you bend down to pick up the broken glass, before you even get the chance to, sae gently swats your hand away.

“careful. don’t want you to hurt yourself,” your cheeks burn at the subtle contact.

he cranes his neck towards you, making eye contact. “it’s okay, i’ll clean it up myself.”

sae slips off his hoodie but not before you take a quick peek at his toned stomach.

you were definitely no better than a man the way you shamelessly watched him. he glances at you while raising an eyebrow before turning away to avoid eye contact once more.

“well, it was nice running into you! sorry about the glass, i have to go back to studying!” you hurry out of the kitchen before sae can even respond.

returning to the living room, rin is surprised to see you all flustered and sweaty. “what happened with you?”

“nothing!”

rin raises an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. unconcerned, he turns back to his notebook reviewing the material.

-

you swear itoshi sae is doing this on purpose.

every time you're over, you always find yourself in lucky terrible predicaments. last week, you wandered into a seemingly empty bathroom to be met with a shirtless sae. a single towel wrapped around his waist, leaving little to no imagination.

and what does he do?

he tilts his head at you and continues to brush his teeth, as if you were never there in the first place. when you return to rin’s room, even he's concerned that you might be coming down with a fever from how flushed you were.

just yesterday, you were aiming for a glass on the top shelf. before you knew it, sae was behind you pressing his chest onto your back. he was so close that you could feel the warmth emitting from him and the fresh, crisp scent of his cologne.

it was intoxicating.

nonchalantly, he reminded you to be careful next time as he handed you the glass and walked away. you were left blinking at the action.

itoshi sae was driving you crazy. scratch that, insane. you absolutely had no idea what to do about it.

you think it's absolutely infuriating how itoshi sae remains perfect and composed, sporting the same deadpanned look every time.

meanwhile, you're left a stuttering, blushing mess from each and every interaction. you swear you want to punch his face the next time. (you wouldn't dare to ruin his pretty face)

-

“hey, can you do me a huge favor?”

itoshi rin never asks for favors.

stunned, you continue to listen along, wondering what he has to say.

"you're not going to ask me to kill anyone are you? did isagi really piss you off that bad?"

rin flicks your forehead with irritation.

“sae’s down with a fever," he starts. "neither my mom or i are able to tend to his needs cause of our schedules. you don't have anything to do this afternoon right?”

you slowly nod.

“cool, all you have to do is serve him leftovers my mom left on the stove and make sure he takes his medicine. after that, you're free to go.”

-

you could not do this.

standing in front of the itoshi household suddenly felt foreign to you. a sense of dread washes over you at the thought of the current situation.

what's the worse that can happen being alone with sae?

you didn't want to give it a second thought.

after twenty minutes of back and forth, you managed to enter the kitchen to prepare sae's meal. it didn't take too long, it was a quick and simple task. though, you're unsure why you ended up missing the bowl once or twice, having to clean up the mess.

the tray settled on your hands became ten times heavier from the nerves coursing through your body. you make your way to second floor, your legs feel like jelly. you sure hope none of the sweat droplets from your forehead fell into the soup. mustering enough courage, you lift a hand to the door and softly knock.

“sae?”

there's a moment of silence.

“come in.”

you enter the older itoshi’s room. you watch as he slowly sits up. prominent bags under his eyes, a flushed face, and weak deameanor. not to mention, the complete lack of color from his face. this looked nothing like the sae you know.

"hey, how are you feeling?"

"like absolute shit." you chuckle from his remark.

"sorry that was a stupid question."

you make your way towards the side of his bed, tray still in hand. being extra careful to ensure the contents of the bowl don't spill.

"do you think you're able to eat?" you stretch out the tray as an offer.

"my throat is killing me but i'll just suck it up, i have to take medicine anyway."

you place the back of your hand to sae's forehead, eyes widening at the heat. his face was hot to the touch.

"yikes, you really are burning up."

all sae could do was nod weakly in response. a frown replaced your expression. seeing sae in such a state tugged at your heartstrings.

"i can feed you so you can save your energy?"

sae nods once again.

he hopes you mistake the flush of his face from being sick, not one of revealing his feelings.

carefully, you lightly blow onto the soup, gesturing sae to open his mouth. he complies, opening enough for you to slip the spoon in. soon enough, he finishes his meal. he takes his medicine shortly after.

"almost done! let me go get a new rag for your forehead and then i'll leave you to rest," you smile softly, turning to exist his room before he latches onto your wrist.

“wait, don't go.”

you whip your head back so fast you're sure you have whiplash. gently, sae pulls you towards him. all you can do is let him lead you closer and closer.

this was so unlike sae.

“stay with me? please.”

itoshi sae never pleads. who were you to deny such a request?

you pull up a chair from his desk and take place to the side of his bed once more. the two of you share a moment a silence, basking into the

“never knew you were the type to be so clingy,” you tease.

sae doesn't even have the energy to throw you one of his usual glares. instead, he grabs your hand once more bringing it up to his chest. shocked from the gesture, you attempt to bring your hand back towards you but to no avail. sae has other plans.

“what are you doing?”

“i'm showing you what you're doing to me.”

your eyes widen at the unexpected confession. you're sure your face is beet red. your heartbeat feels so loud you wouldn't be surprised if sae can hear the rhythm of your heart.

"wait, sae i can't! it's one of rin and i's rules."

he scoffs hearing the mention of the younger itoshi. he composes himself despite being sick to make his actions loud and clear.

“i don't care. rules were meant to be broken anyway.”

in a swift motion, sae drags you from previous seated position to under the covers with him. you gasp from the abrupt action. he buries his head into your neck, softly inhaling the scent of your perfume.

you comply as your hand makes it way to the top of his head. you scratch light shapes into his scalp earning a sigh of contentment from sae.

"if you get me sick, im going to kill you."

"yeah yeah."

guess his plan worked out after all.

-

bonus:

“huh? what pact?”

you gape at rin. surely, he didn't forget. right?

“the pact we made when we were 5? that pact? the best friend pact?”

all rin does is blink at you.

“doesn't ring a bell."

“you're joking right? please tell me you're joking.”

“i can assure you i'm not.”

you face palm before returning to meet rin’s eyes once more. “so, you really don't care that i'm dating sae?”

“oh that's great news actually, i was wondering when you'd finally make a move.” he shrugs.

“what? so you knew!”

“how could i not? you weren't exactly subtle about it.”

"so, you're not gonna kill me for dating sae?"

"no, i'm livid."

you can feel a sweat drop trickle down your forehead. rin releases a breath before speaking again.

"but, you seem happier with him. i guess. so, i don't really mind." rin ruffles the top of your head as you continue the way to your second home, the itoshi household.

☆.

a/n :: rin is a 10/10 best friend. i lowk hate the ending might revise at a later time </3

[were-my-demons-hide]

I have massive thoughts about how life would have turned out if one didn't have to face bullying in school.

[clockwayswrites]

Bitty birb in the nest is worth...? Part 19

Masterpost This is going to have many typos and spelling issues, but it currently feels like I've got an ice pick in my temple and my skin hurts so there's no rereading happening atm. Sorry!

-

Danny looked up as Tim Drake-Wayne strode into the lab and closed the door quietly behind himself.

“Tim?”

“Mm-hum?” Tim hummed as he sat down his thermos before he shed his messenger bag, coat, and school jacket onto an open part of desk.

Danny watched on with bemusement. The kid looked half asleep. “Not that it isn’t great to see you again, but what are you doing here, honey?”

“Bruce is on a call running Luthor in circles and then has to talk to legal about some stuff because Luthor is always an ass. We’re supposed to go run an errand and then to dinner together, so I’m stuck here until he’s ready to leave for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said honestly.

“It’s okay, at least Bruce won’t forget, not like—” Tim shut his mouth with a snap, seemingly suddenly thinking about what he was saying.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Danny said, because he did. “You need somewhere to hide out then?”

“Yeah, it’s… calm here.”

“Okay. Sit wherever you want that’s clear. If you need to move something, let me know first, okay?”

“Thanks,” Tim said, shoulders finally losing some of their tension.

“Of course, whenever you need.”

Not wanting to push Tim in any way, Danny kept a subtle eye on the boy as Tim absently wandered around Danny’s office. To Tim’s credit, he did try to touch anything or move things around, even as he obviously grew increasingly tired.

It would be a lot, Danny supposed, to be a teen ager trying to live up to the legacy of two important families in the area, learn the business, go to school, and (hopefully) also spend time with friends. Danny knew how hard it had been only having Phantom as an obligation.

While, sure, Danny wished Tim had made chosen a less neck cramping spot, he was happy to see Tim finally settle down and seemingly fall asleep… under one of Danny’s work benches. Danny couldn’t fuss too much, he’d done that plenty in grad school himself. Once Tim seemed properly asleep, Danny got up to fetch his cardigan from the hook by the door and took it to drape over the sleeping kid. Tim let a little huffed breath of air before he snuggled further into the cardigan and settled back into sleep.

It made Danny’s heart melt in a way that he didn’t want to think too hard about.

It really was no surprise when about forty-five minutes later one Bruce Wayne poked his head into Danny’s office. The door was hardly open when Danny had his finger up and over his mouth in the universal sign of ‘shush’.

Bruce titled his head curiously. Danny gave a little nod of his head towards the workbench that Tim was sleeping under. Silently, Bruce moved to the work bench and crouched down next to it. There was a soft, amused sound before Bruce reached out to brush his hand over Tim’s forehead, as if habitually checking for a fever.

When Bruce returned to where Danny was working, he asked softly, “How long has he been asleep?”

“A little over a half hour. It took him about ten minutes to settle in,” Danny answered, voice equally quiet.

“Then do you mind if I let him keep resting for another fifteen minutes or so? He’s likely to wake up on his own then.”

Danny shook his head. “Nope, let the kid rest. He seems like he needs it.”

Bruce glanced at Tim, his expression that soft sort of worried only parents seemed to get. “He does. He works too hard at… everything. He’s always trying to prove himself even when he doesn’t need to anymore.”

Danny made a little questioning noise as he got back to fiddling with the annoyingly tiny screws.

“His parents were… demanding. They had very exacting ideas of what proper high society behavior was,” Bruce explained. “I’m sadly not the best suited at dismantling those ideas either.”

“Ah… well, what do you do that encourages him to be a kid?” Danny asked.

“He skateboards, actually. And he enjoys photography, but even that became a goal what with art competitions at school.”

“Maybe take him and Damian on a mini art vacation? Somewhere pretty. Somewhere where it’s not about judges,” Danny suggested. He finally got the last screw seated so he glanced up at Bruce’s thoughtful face.

“That’s a good idea,” Bruce said. “I’ll start looking at what might work. Thank you.”

“Sure, ideas are kinda what I do,” Danny said and motioned to the office around him with the screwdriver.

Bruce’s answering chuckle was low and warm. “I suppose it is. I hope you’re also not overworking yourself.”

“I’m doing much better,” Danny assured Bruce. “I just needed some rest.”

“Which my children made sure you got. I’m still sorry that they kept you so long on Friday.”

It was Danny’s turn to laugh. “Honestly, I don’t think you really have much control over what they do.”

“No, I really don’t,” Bruce admitted. “But I wouldn’t have them any other way.”

“That’s good; they’re a pretty amazing family,” Danny said with a soft smile. “And if I don’t get to be sorry about falling asleep, you don’t get to be sorry about making me rest.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal.”

“I am a master business man,” Danny teased and ducked his head to hide his smile.

“I’ll have to watch for corporate take overs. Keep an eye on the stocks and papers.”

“Maybe. Oh, speaking of… Well, not speaking of but sort of related? You know, I was joking about us making the papers.”

Bruce hummed curiously so Danny set aside his tools to pull up the story that several coworkers had sent him on his table. He spun it to face Bruce. The picture of them in the box was big on the screen. They were pressed almost chest to chest with Bruce’s arms around Danny. It certainly looked incriminating.

“Well shit,” Bruce said with a sigh. He picked up the tablet to scan through the article. There wasn’t anything in it, of course, just wild speculation. “I hope you haven’t been harassed about this by anyone.”

“I don’t think anyone knows who I am to harass me,” Danny said honestly. “Some coworkers have sent me it, but apparently it’s just my luck to have both randomly run into a Wayne and be invited to an event and have one of my ‘spells’ when I’m around them.”

Bruce looked at him with one well manicured brow raised. “You have interesting luck.”

“Yep. It’s been quite a life so far. I was pretty much born into interesting luck and life has really lived up to that luck and died by it,” Danny said with a little chuckle as he took his tablet back.

“I feel concerned by that last part.”

Danny hummed in question, distracted by pulling his notes back up.

“The having died by the luck part.”

“Oh.” Danny smiled, but he knew that expression was less than a happy one. “I think I mentioned that there was an accident when I was a kid?”

Bruce nodded and lean his elbows on the work bench and crosses his arms. “You did. One that is apparently still affecting your pulse to this day.”

“Yes, well,” Danny glanced away from Bruce. Why was it still so hard to talk about. “When I was fourteen, I was electrocuted at at an… industrial level of voltage. Unsurprisingly it killed me. And hey, obviously I came back! But that sort of thing sticks around.”

“I’m sorry.”

Danny looked back at Bruce, honestly startled. In all this time, Danny wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard a ‘I’m sorry’ about his accident, not without strings attached. His lips quirked into a smile again. This one felt more pleasant. “Thanks. Trust me though, I’m grateful that life has, had been calmer.”

Whatever Bruce was going to say to that was cut off by a loud yawn, the sound of someone shifting around, and then the unmistakable bang of a limb against the metal legs of one of the workbenches.

Quiet cussing followed a moment later.

“You okay there, Tim?” Danny asked.

“Fine,” Tim hissed back.

“I’m sure I have an instant icepack in my office. We can grab one before we leave,” Bruce said.

“B?” Tim asked, voice noticeably brighter. A moment later he appeared out from under the desk.

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry that I had to take that call,” Bruce said as he stepped over to Tim. He reached out to brush the teen’s hair a little straighter.

“It’s fine, it’s Lex, I get it.”

“I know you get it, but that doesn’t mean it has to be fine.”

Tim just shrugged. The action made him notice the the cardigan draped over his shoulders. A little blush rose on his cheeks as he took it off and handed it back to Danny. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for Tim, you weren’t any problem,” Danny assured him. “You’re welcome in my office whenever.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Tim said.

Danny just shrugged with a smile.

“Come on, chum, let’s go find that icepack. We’ll still get to your store before it closes,” Bruce said and started to guide Tim out by the shoulder.

Bruce glanced behind him and Danny gave a little wave to the retreating Waynes.

His luck indeed.

-

“What happened in Danny’s office that’s bothering you?” Tim asked. He had the icepack pressed against his elbow and was sitting almost sideways so that he could take in all of Bruce’s expression.

Bruce was doing that thing where he was feeling big, complicated emotions and wishing he wasn’t. Tim could read it in the way that Bruce’s shoulders were set, that little bit of tightening under his eyes, and the way he was very purposefully not frowning.

“B,” Tim pressed.

Bruce sighed, the sound all of his air. “I think we should leave Danny alone, both as Waynes and as Bats.”

Tim jolted and scrambled to sit up further. “Wait, what? Bruce, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Bruce assured Tim. “Nothing bad happened. Vicky got a picture of Danny and I at the ballet. We spoke some about it and Danny talked about how he had interesting luck. He said he was grateful that life has been calmer; he had to change that to had.”

“…oh.”

“It’s just that—”

“No, you’re right. I’ll try to talk to the others about it because you know they won’t listen to you about it.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“It’s fine, I get it.”

[thelostconsultant]

A life well lived

pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader

summary: Max has been in love with Charles's twin since they met as kids. When he finally has the chance to tell you how he feels years later, it turns out you feel the same. A wonderful life is ahead of the two of you, and Max couldn't love you and your son more.

note: 9k words + sm posts. I love them so much, I can barely put it into words. I hope you'll like this.

Whenever he was on the track, Max was competitive, and he didn’t lack the confidence he needed to win races. But he wasn’t the only one, Charles was equally good, and he also had everything a great driver needed to succeed. So the two of them naturally became rivals, the greatest of their generation, and despite their hate towards each other, Max couldn’t help but respect him deep down. 

Throughout the years, he got to learn everything about him on and off the track, so he knew about his siblings. And he was painfully aware of his twin sister being there with him at every race, the sweet, lively girl who always had a bright smile on her face as she talked to her relatives. Every single time he laid his eyes on you, he wished he was the one you were talking to, he wished you would finally say more than just a brief hello or goodbye. 

Whenever he did well in the race, Max liked to think your smiles and cheers were meant for him alone. They were always meant for your brother though, he knew that, but his stupid teenage brain assumed the fact you briefly glanced at him while smiling meant you would get married one day. That you were madly in love with him too, that you were yearning for his company just as much as he was. 

If it was up to him, he would have talked to you. He wanted to learn more about you, he wanted to be near you, he wanted to experience the innocent love only a teenager could feel, but how could he do that under his father's strict control? He couldn't even play football on the weekends, how could he have a girlfriend? And then there was Charles who was already giving him death glares whenever they met, if he found out Max had a thing for his sister, who knows what he would have done. It was better not to risk a possible fist fight it would end with.

So he was destined to watch you from afar, letting his imagination run wild to cope with the pain he felt for not being able to talk to you. In his mind you were sitting next to him on top of a large crate, asking various questions to pass the time, giggling and feet dangling as you listened to him. His brain fed him with the image of you running up to him to hug him after the race, your bright smile being a much better prize than the trophy he had left on the ground.

And then he and Charles ended up in different series, meaning you weren’t there at his races anymore. His race weekends became much colder and emptier, he decided to focus solely on racing, pushing every single thought related to you to the back of his mind. He kept an eye on his rival, of course, he needed to know how he performed, if he was still good enough to one day catch up to him. He also wanted to know if you were still following him around like a shadow, if you still stood next to him on countless photos that he would later share on social media. He just wanted to see you, to know you were okay. 

His mother was the only one who figured out he had a little crush on you. She noticed him staring at photos of you, and she was kind enough to start a conversation about you, giving him the chance to finally give someone a speech about how special you were to him, how nice you were to everyone, how pretty you were, and how much he wished he could talk to you. He didn’t even know why he told her everything without feeling embarrassed, but maybe he was just grateful to have the opportunity to get it off his chest after all those years. His mother told him to find you on social media and send you a message, after all that’s what those were made for. 

But he didn’t do it. His confidence was usually nowhere to be found when it came to you, and even now all he could think about was making a fool of himself. What if you said no? What if you told your brother and he would reappear in his life to give him hell for making a move on you? He didn’t want to risk that, so he just returned to watching you from afar. Sad and lonely, with the kind of pain in his heart that couldn’t be healed so easily. 

When he made it into F1, Max had a new challenge to face, and his head was always in the races, this cutthroat world forcing him to focus more than ever before. He knew it was only a matter of time before your brother debuted in the series as well, he just had to be patient and wait for it to happen, and once it did, you would be back in his life. So he waited and pushed himself, eventually winning his first race, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you saw him, if you were proud of him. 

But then one day he noticed that you suddenly disappeared from social media, all of your accounts were deleted, and he began to panic. Seeing your posts–even though he didn’t follow you–was always the highlight of his day, so what was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to know what was happening in your life? And to make things worse, you were studying abroad, he didn’t have the chance to accidentally bump into you on the streets of Monaco. 

And then it happened. Charles finally caught up with him and joined F1. Max couldn’t have been happier. For one, he finally got his rival back, even a rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins at the thought of continuing their competition, and two, you would surely be back in the paddock. Maybe not at every race, but you would without doubt show up every now and then. So he began to count back the days to the first race of that season, having a feeling that you would not miss it, and then he spent the remaining time checking your family’s social media accounts to see if they shared any new photos of you.

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 245,175 others

charles_leclerc: I want to say thank you to my team and my family for the support. It was a great first race with a decent result. I missed my baby sister though, she used to be my lucky charm.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

arthur_leclerc: Not bad.

pascale.leclerc.355: I'm so proud of you!

yourusername: What baby? I'm literally half an hour younger. That's not the baby category, you muppet.

⤷ charles_leclerc: You're a baby to me.

⤷ arthur_leclerc: You kinda are.

⤷ yourusername: Shut up, fetus.

⤷ charles_leclerc: And muppet? You spend too much time in London. Come back home.

⤷ yourusername: No.

You were back on Instagram apparently, and he had never tapped on a link faster before. His heart was racing from the excitement, expecting to see a bunch of photos of you, ones he hadn’t seen before, but to his disappointment, it was private. He couldn’t send you a request, he didn’t want you to know he was interested in your posts, and it was killing Max, because he was suffering from withdrawal symptoms by now. With your brother being back, he felt like that stupid kid again, which despite your absence came with the crushing feeling of a one-sided love he’d been suffering from for all those years.

Time passed, and he was just waiting and waiting, hoping one day you would show up, but you didn’t. There were posts on your family’s accounts, and you were glowing on every single photo, apparently having a happy life in London. He wondered if you were in a relationship. Did you have a special someone waiting for you? The thought of you being taken was devastating, because in his mind you were his, he truly believed that you were destined to be together.

[Nice to meet you, where you been?]

2023. He had to wait until the 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix to finally have you at a race. 

It all started with a burner account he created years ago to keep an eye on the posts from your family and other people connected to them. Just to see if they had any new content about you without the risk of accidentally liking a photo with his real account. It’s not stalking. It’s not bad. Well, not that bad. So that day he checked the posts in the morning while he got ready to leave, and he saw a post from Alexandra that the two of you were having breakfast together before heading out to the track to see your brother. 

His stomach did a flip, his heart rate jumped, and he suddenly felt like throwing up from the anxiety. He had always imagined this day would be easy. He catches you in the paddock, just “accidentally” bumping into you, greets you with a big, friendly smile with a short comment about how long it’s been, and he tells you how proud you must be of your brother. And then maybe they would have to talk about Charles for a while, but once you eased into the conversation, he could start to shift the conversation to you. How are you? Why haven’t you been to his races? Are you seeing anyone? If not, would you like to have dinner with him? 

But now that it was time to actually do this, he felt sick from the thought. He couldn’t do it, he didn’t feel confident enough to talk to you. It felt like he had traveled back in time, turning into a nervous, awkward kid again. How stupid did he have to be to assume you would be interested? Sure, he and Charles didn’t hate each other on a cellular level these days, they could tolerate each other, but they were still each other’s biggest rivals, so why would you be with him? 

Since it was sprint day, Max decided to focus on his job, but when he caught a glimpse of you as you celebrated your brother’s sprint qualifying win, he knew it was a futile attempt. You didn’t even look at him, even though he watched you for a few seconds with a stupid smile on his face and went over to congratulate Charles, which resulted in a kicked puppy feeling. The sprint race wasn’t any better, his head wasn’t really in it, but at least he could see you again. But then, just as he once again watched you with a smile, your eyes locked with his and you smiled back. Unlike back in the day, now he was sure this smile was meant for him. 

He got drunk on this lovely feeling, and as pathetic as it probably was, he found himself lingering around the Ferrari motorhome after the interviews and the debrief. There would be photos and rumors, he was aware of that, but he had to see you. He had to give himself the chance to say hello, to see if you were also interested, if you were willing to talk to him. Deep down he hoped you would be looking at him starry-eyed, giggling like you used to, your bubbly personality coming to the surface as you talked. 

Then he saw you step out on your own, looking around hesitantly as you probably tried to figure out where to go. You looked lost, but Max was more than happy to offer his services as a tour guide, so he walked over to you and stopped with a small smile on his face. “Need help?” he asked.

You turned to look at him with a surprised look, but then your features softened and you flashed the bright smile he missed so much at him. “I’m looking for the exit.”

“I can show you the way,” he offered, and he was surprised to see you quickly nod in response. As you began to walk in the right direction, Max’s brain worked in overdrive to figure out what to talk about, but in the end all he managed to come up with was a trivial question about why you were leaving on your own. 

“I came with Alex, but now she’s going back to the hotel with Charles. I figured I could take a look around the city before dinner, so I won’t wait for them,” you replied as you pushed your sunglasses up to the top of your head.

This was his best chance to ask you out, he knew that, which is why he let out a low hum with his hands behind his back as if he seriously had to think about it. “I can show you around if you’d like. And I know a really good restaurant, one that’s not the crowded fancy kind,” he said as he glanced over at you. 

He didn’t miss the way you blushed at the thought and he had to do his damn best to prevent a proud, cocky smile from appearing on his face. You clearly liked him, you were interested, what more could he wish for? After all those years here he was with you on his side, having a real conversation without your brother’s murderous looks, and on top of it all, he had the courage to ask you out on a date. Because he could tell you knew it would be a date, otherwise you wouldn’t be this shy all of a sudden.

Max came to a halt and gently put a hand on your arm to stop you. “I promise I won’t bite. Come on, just say yes,” he tried. 

“All right, let's do this.”

A wide smile appeared on his face upon hearing this. “Great. Let's get my stuff then we can leave.”

His fingers slowly slid down from your elbow to your hand so he could take it, pulling you after him as he took a sharp turn and headed to the Red Bull motorhome with you by his side. When you were finally on your way out for real, it was you who reached out for his hand, the contact making him involuntary blush. It made you both nervous, unsure of what this meant, but it still felt so natural, like you've been tied to the other by some invisible string.

The two of you spent the following hours walking around the city, with him telling you interesting details he had picked up throughout the years, and you listened to him talk with shining eyes, accompanied by a big smile that sometimes temporarily made him forget how to speak. It was new, it was exciting, and he could have sworn it was just the two of you in the city that night. His eyes always found their way to your face, taking in every little detail as if he hadn’t studied it before as a kid or on the pictures he saw on social media. 

When it was quite late, he took you back to the hotel you were staying in, but neither of you felt like saying goodbye just yet. For a minute or two you were just standing there in silence, waiting for the other to say something, to say what you both had on your mind out loud. He was the first to break under the sweet pressure, all because you nervously bit on your lower lip, a move that drew an almost animalistic growl out of him before he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss. 

You didn’t hesitate to return it, getting so lost in it that your hands moved up to his neck, gently pulling him closer as if it was even possible. He only broke the kiss to let his lips pepper small kisses across your face, using this opportunity to tell you something that had been on his mind ever since you agreed to come with him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered to you, his nose pressing against the shell of your ear. 

“A whole twelve hours?” you asked with a delicate little giggle. 

He leaned back to look you in the eye, his big palm resting on your flushed cheek as he flashed a playful smile at you. “More like twelve years,” he corrected you. Your eyes grew wide from surprise, pupils still blown, and he couldn’t help but press a kiss on the tip of your nose. “What can I say, I had a crush on my biggest rival’s sister. And I still have to this day.”

Gulping, you watched him in silence for a while, a reaction that made him worry. Did he say something wrong? He was terrified of the thought of you letting go of him and disappearing behind the entrance of the hotel, leaving him behind for good. But before he could get lost in this spiral, you kissed his chin and went, “Well, I might have had a crush on a stupid blond boy with his stupid blue eyes too. But he never talked to me and I was warned to keep a safe distance from him,” you added. 

This made him kiss you again, and this time he didn’t hold back. He couldn’t care less about standing out on the street where everyone could see him, he couldn’t worry about photos emerging of the two of you. He wanted to claim you as his, making you understand that fate brought you together again, and if he had to do this in front of your damn hotel, then he was more than happy to do it right there with an audience. 

Your safe little bubble was burst by the constant buzzing of your phone, soon followed by the ringtone, and while he wished you would just ignore it, you swore under your breath and quickly answered it. You were speaking with someone in French, upset that they were bothering you right now, but soon your expression and voice changed, mirroring the panic you probably felt, because the moment you ended the call, you began to type furiously. When he gave you an expectant look with a questioning hum, you let out a sigh and showed him the screen. 

He took the device from your hand and scrolled over some posts that could be found under his name in the tags, showing the two of you kissing just a few minutes ago. Considering your brother was tagged in a few of them, it was quite obvious that he was the one who called you, and knowing him, he was probably fuming from anger. “I’m sorry,” he said as he gave you back your phone. 

To his surprise, you just shook your head with a smile, then stood on your toes to give him a quick kiss. “Don’t be. He’ll calm down and people will move on. Also, I’m too happy to care about the fans. Screw them,” you said with a laugh. 

Yeah, screw them. As long as you could think about this so casually, he was happy. Because the last thing he wanted was you being crushed by the pressure, deciding that this relationship wasn’t worth the effort it needed to work. He was willing to do whatever it took to make it work, he was ready to make sacrifices if needed, anything to keep you by his side. He was that lovesick teenage boy again, his brain clouded by a pink fog that affected his way of thinking. Was it wise to put rationality and logic aside? Not really, but he couldn’t care at the moment. 

Not when after all those years he could finally tell you how he felt, and he could hear you say you felt the same. 

“Does this mean you’ll give me your number?” he asked with a grin, already reaching for his phone. Shaking your head, you held out your hand, then typed it in, saving it under your name that you finished with a heart emoji. “Will you come to Miami with me? Then we could travel back to Monaco together and spend some time there until the race.”

You hesitated for the first time that night, looking away nervously as you fidgeted with your bracelet. “I wish I could, but I have to work. Maybe I can go to Monaco, but I’m not sure. I’m sorry, Max,” you told him when you finally turned back to him and saw the devastated look he probably had in his eyes. 

He was so lost in his fantasy world that he failed to consider that you might have had a life back home he knew nothing about. He didn’t know what you did for work, he only knew you lived in London. At least he assumed you still did. What else did he not know? What if you had someone waiting for you back home? Panic took over at the thought of this kiss being nothing more to you than a fleeting memory in a few hours, because he didn’t want to lose you so soon, he didn’t want to be a plaything you get bored of so fast. 

Somehow you picked up on his feelings, because you gently cupped his face to make him focus on you. “I have to be in L.A. next week, I don’t know when I’ll have a little break again,” you told him, eventually flashing a sweet smile at him. “But I’ll try to make it to Monaco on time, okay? I’ll even give ourselves a few days to relax together.”

“Promise?”

You nodded before burying your face into the crook of his neck. “I promise. I should get going, but I don’t want to leave you just yet,” you mumbled against his skin. 

Max buried his fingers into your hair then grabbed a handful of it to gently pull your head back. “Get some sleep. And if you feel lonely tomorrow at the track, feel free to visit me. You’re always welcome,” he said before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Now, go before I change my mind and take you back to my hotel.”

You laughed at this, but nodded nonetheless. “Good luck for the race. I don’t want you to beat my brother, but still. Goodnight, Max.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said as he let you go. 

He stood there for a while, watching you disappear behind the entrance of the building, but once he took a deep breath to calm his heart that was still beating fast from the excitement he felt because of you, he headed back to his hotel. In the taxi he pulled out his phone and sent you a message. Then you replied, and the written conversation didn’t stop until you announced you were dead tired around one in the morning. 

You were his, he could feel it. After all those years, after all those dreams and sleepless nights, he could finally consider you to be more than just a precious memory. You were real. He could still taste you in his mouth. It felt like a dream, one he never wanted to wake up from.

In the morning, as he was heading to the track, Max received a message from his mother. All it said was, “I see you got the girl in the end.” He couldn’t hold back the big smile that wanted to creep on his face at the memory of that conversation they had all those years ago about you. After all that time, here he was, lost in the lavender haze because of you. 

During the drivers parade he didn’t miss the same old murderous looks he had received as a kid, but at least this time he knew he was safe in front of all the cameras. A part of him wanted to discuss this with Charles, but something told him it would be better if he let you do the talking. Even as kids, you had your brother wrapped around your finger, he highly doubted that had changed over the years. 

After the race he saw you congratulate your brother, but he didn’t miss the bright smile that you flashed at him. He considered walking over to you, stepping into Ferrari territory, but in the end decided not to risk it. If you came to a race as his guest, he would have the opportunity to get a tight hug from you before giving you a kiss in front of the whole world. 

They were heading to the cooldown room when Charles suddenly appeared next to him and said, “If you hurt her, I’ll launch us both into the nearest barrier the next time we meet on the track.” 

Max gulped and nodded. It was a fair warning. He was already afraid of fighting him on the track, but knowing he now had a good reason to attack him was truly terrifying. 

In the following week, the two of you talked a lot. Once you even told him that you hadn’t written a word in over an hour because of your conversation, but he still didn’t let you get back to work. He was selfish, he needed to hear your voice to function, to feel alive and know that the weekend before wasn’t some fever dream. He considered suggesting a visit to L.A. after the race to spend some time with you before you traveled back to Monaco together, but he had a feeling that he would be pushing his luck with that. 

The race weekend in Miami didn't start as planned. He was really mad and disappointed in himself after the qualifying, but talking to you made him feel a lot better. Even though you weren't there with him, knowing you cared so much helped him calm down and focus on the race ahead. 

On Sunday morning, a bit over an hour before the drivers parade, Checo asked him to follow him, acting all secretive when he said he wanted to show him something. Max wasn't in the mood for surprises, but then he noticed you standing there in their motorhome and a wide smile appeared on his face. He rushed over to you to pull you into a tight hug before kissing you fiercely, recharging his batteries by doing so.

“What are you doing here?” he asked when he stepped away, although he held your hands and wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon. 

You shrugged with that sweet smile on your lips. “Yesterday wasn't the best for you and I could tell you were frustrated. My brother got me a pass, and he decided to ask Checo to sneak me into your motorhome to surprise you,” you explained. 

This was a surprise, sure, but not because you were here. “Charles organized this?” You nodded. “Why?”

“I don't know, ask him.”

“The last time we talked he told me he would push us both into a barricade if I hurt you,” Max admitted, earning a shocked look from you. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not planning on hurting you. Soooo, want me to give you a tour?”

When you nodded, he quickly thanked his teammate for helping your brother with this plan, then put a hand on the small of your back and showed you every interesting corner of the place, telling you different stories from the years he spent here, and conveniently ended the tour in his driver's room so you could have some privacy before he had to leave for the drivers parade. 

Even though you were sitting on his bed with a mischievous smile on your lips, he kept talking about how he got ready for the races, answering a question he didn't realize was a hint until now. Because you were eyeing him as if you were planning to pounce at him or grab the front of his shirt and pull him on top of you.

With a sigh and a knowing smile he stood in front of you, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. “Later, okay? This isn't the right time or place,” he told you.

“Why, what's the right time and place?”

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Somewhere I can take my time with you. This is not it, trust me.” Nodding, you stood up and gave him a quick kiss. “Will you watch the race from our garage, or will you go back to Ferrari?”

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, you buried your face into his chest. “Where do you want me?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Red Bull it is,” you mumbled against him.

Soon he had to leave you behind to meet the other drivers for the parade, and his heart was beating in his throat from the nervousness caused by the upcoming chat with your brother. Because he had to talk to him, he had to find out if he was suddenly supporting you two, and why he helped him by bringing you here. 

Charles was deep in a conversation with Pierre, but he wasn't afraid to interrupt them. “Can we talk?” he asked the Monegasque.

He nodded and followed him to a quieter corner. “I guess you met her,” he said with the hint of a smile. 

“Why did you do this?”

“Because she was sad. And I don't like to see my sister like that. If being with you can make her happy, so be it,” Charles explained. “I remember how things used to be in our karting days. I remember how much she talked about you, and I remember the way you always watched her. Guess you found each other again. It doesn't mean we'll be best friends now, but maybe we should bury the hatchet.”

Max didn't even know what to say at first, which was new. Your brother's speech surprised him, he definitely wasn't expecting him to be okay with your relationship so soon after it had begun. Nodding, he offered his hand, and Charles shook it without hesitation. 

He wanted to say something, he wanted to tell him how grateful he was for not making a scene or their lives a living hell, but the organizers told them it was time to go. So he waved goodbye and left to find his friends.

Sadly, he didn't have time to talk to you again, he only caught a glimpse of you before getting in the car, and he wanted to focus on the race ahead anyway. He knew you knew that, which is why he didn't feel like shit for not doing anything he could to squeeze in a few minutes to spend with you. 

After he crossed the finish line, Max had a good feeling and he couldn't stop smiling in his helmet. He wasn't happy because he managed to win, no, he was happy because he knew you would be there with the team to greet him in the parc fermé. After all those years he could finally see you celebrate his good result instead of your brother's. 

After he got out of the car, he quickly took off his helmet and balaclava, then ran over to his team to greet a few people before stopping in front of you, watching you with a wide grin as he waited for you to give him the green light. When you finally nodded, he pulled you into a fierce kiss, the adrenaline in his system working wonders. 

“I hope we'll find the right place and time tonight, because post-race you is criminally hot,” you whispered into his ear with a cute laugh.

If it was up to him, he would have skipped the celebration and debrief parts of the day, but the best he could offer now was making everyone hurry so you could get back to his hotel as soon as possible. “We will, trust me,” he assured you eventually before being dragged away for interviews.

[It's you and me, that's my whole world]

Max knew that the Monaco grand prix would be the perfect time to ask you. But he wanted to do this right, and since he had learned in the past year how important your family was to you, he requested a meeting with your mother and Charles to discuss his intentions.

Maybe it was old fashioned, but your brother was a bit overprotective, he wanted to make sure he was comfortable with the idea of having him as a brother-in-law. Your mother wouldn't be a problem, he knew that, because she had often commented on how well he took care of you, and how happy she was that you found someone who was this enamored with you.

So now here he was in your mother's apartment, sitting across from her and Charles as if he was facing the Spanish Inquisition. He took a deep breath to steady his breathing and give himself a moment to figure out where to begin. In the end he decided to be direct, so he pulled out the little jewelry box from his pocket, and placed it on the table between them after he opened it to reveal the ring inside.

Pascale had her hands over her mouth as she gasped in surprise, but soon it was revealed that she was smiling happily when she reached for the box. “When are you planning to ask her?” she wondered as she took a closer look at the ring.

“After the race. Well, since I don't know what Sunday brings, I was aiming for Monday. I'm planning to take her out for lunch, then we would drive to a spot where I can ask her in peace. I already have an event planner getting a party ready for the evening,” Max explained with a shy smile.

And there was that trademark look again from Charles. He watched him with narrowed eyes as he leaned over to take a look at the jewelry in his mother's hand. “And if she says no?” Pascale poked his side with a disapproving look. “What? It's a possibility. They've only been dating for a year. It's too early.”

Your mother let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes. “Don't listen to him, Max, I'm sure she will say yes. She loves you very much. Oh, I'm so happy for you, come here,” she said as she stood up with her arms open.

With a relieved sigh, he stood up and walked around the table to hug her. “Does this mean you have no problem with my plan?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course not!”

“I do,” Charles spoke up, earning a pointed look from his mother.

Pascale put his hands on her hips as she watched her son. “You would have a problem with any guy who tried to ask her to marry him, no matter how long they've been together. I know you want to protect her, but you can't do it forever. You have your own relationship to focus on, and I don't remember her ever having a problem with your decisions.”

Finally, your brother let out a long sigh, then nodded. “All right, you have my blessing. But remember what I told you last year,” he warned him.

“Yeah, I know, the barrier.”

Your mother's eyes moved back and forth between the two of them. “What barrier?”

When he saw the pointed look Charles gave him to shut him up, Max decided to lie. “It's more of a metaphor, nothing worth mentioning,” he said, forcing a smile on his face.

“I see,” she said, although it was clear she didn't believe a word he said. “I'm so happy for you. When will you ask Alex?” she suddenly turned to her son.

Charles almost choked on the water he was drinking. “Really? Just because she's getting engaged, I don't have to copy her right away,” he complained.

A few days later Max had his doubts about the timing. Charles won the race, becoming the national hero, so would it be fair to avert the attention away from him the next day? So he did the only thing he could think of and asked your brother if he would be okay with him going on with this as planned. He said yes, probably knowing two events with this magnitude would make you extremely happy.

Lunch was nice, you joked a lot about Oscar becoming an honorary Leclerc, but you were mostly talking about all the love your brother's been receiving since the race win. He understood that, and he truly believed this was a well-deserved win, one that's been a long time coming. He wished he had a car that could fight theirs, but right now they only had their special moments every now and then.

When you reached your destination and the two of you sat on a picnic blanket with a bottle of wine opened, Max began to feel nervous. He'd been dreaming about this for so long, even as a stupid kid he imagined spending your lives together, but now that he was supposed to pop the question he felt surprisingly uncertain. 

You took a sip of your drink before snuggling up to him, even letting out a quiet giggle when you felt him wrap an arm around your body. He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head while his free hand reached for the box in his pocket. He hesitated, wondering if this was the right time to do it, if he should give your relationship more time, but as he inhaled your sweet scent, he suddenly realized it would be foolish to waste your precious time.

So he moved his hand to yours and placed the little black box into your palm. You glanced at him with a surprised look on your face, and when he nodded to make you open it, you did exactly that. A small gasp left your lips when you realized what it was, what it meant, so he took this chance to tell you what was on his mind.

“I don't want to wait. I know we will have to sort a few things out, but I'm sure we can find a solution to everything. I travel around a lot, I know that, but if you could work remotely every now and then, we would just have to put effort into making our schedules work,” he said, his voice fading when you put up a finger to stop him.

He watched you examine the ring, taking in every little detail with a warm smile playing on your lips. “Maybe you should say those four words before giving me a speech about logistics,” you suddenly noted.

“What–Oh, right,” he said when realization hit him, then took the ring from you to do this right. “Will you marry me?” 

You let out a low, thoughtful hum instead of answering. Did you really have to think about it? But then you looked up at him with that beaming smile of yours and said yes, making him the happiest man with this single word.

“We're going to our engagement party tonight. I invited everyone who's important to us,” he announced.

“A party? And if I said no?” 

Rolling his eyes, Max let out a groan. “I swear you and Charles couldn't deny being twins if you wanted to,” he said, earning a questioning look. “That was his first question as well.”

The party in the evening was wonderful. Everyone was so happy to hear the news, and they had a lot of fun together. You and your mother disappeared for a while, and soon Charles and Arthur decided to join you in a private room, which gave him some time to talk to Alex. He needed to know what your brother truly thought of this engagement, and she surely knew something.

They sat on a couch next to each other, and she was watching him with a knowing smile over the cocktail in her hand. “What do you want to know?” she asked.

It took Max by surprise, but he was relieved to know she was willing to talk to him. “What does Charles think about this? I mean, really think? I'm sure he told you.” 

“He thinks you're taking her away from him, but that's only because they're so close. Dating someone is one thing, but planning a wedding?” She shrugged, but the kind smile was still present. “Look, he understands that this is what she wants, he knows how much you love her, so he made peace with the idea.”

Nodding, he leaned back and drank some from his cocktail. “So I have nothing to worry about?” 

“As long as you don't hurt her.”

“I'm not planning to do that,” he assured her.

Alex's smile grew even wider. “Then you have nothing to be afraid of.”

Their conversation went on for a little longer, but then it was interrupted by Lando who showed up with shots on a tray, planning to give him a speech while getting drunk together. He accepted his offer with a laugh, and Alex decided to give them space after sharing a drink with them. 

Lando had an arm wrapped around Max’s shoulder after their third shot, animatedly explaining something related to marriage, some weird theory that didn't even make much sense. How much he had drunk before was a mystery, but he was his friend, so he just listened to him with a smile. 

Hours later they all went home, and he was glad to finally have you all to himself. You spent the night talking, sleep somehow avoiding the both of you, but he didn't mind, it was nice to discuss things you were expecting from the wedding. Because you were already planning it in your head, trying to decide where to hold the reception, how many guests to invite, and what kind of dress you wanted.

And then you brought up the date. You were thinking about a month with a lower temperature, maybe in the spring, but he had a different idea. He didn't want to wait until next year. If it was up to him, the two of you would elope the next day, getting married without anyone knowing. But he knew you would want your family and friends to be there, so he was willing to settle with an alternative.

“How about this year? The beginning of September or the first half of October? We have short breaks then,” he suggested. 

You looked surprised, but despite the frown, you seemed to consider the idea. “This soon? Planning a wedding takes time, even if we get help from a professional wedding planner–”

Max smiled at you before leaning forward to give you a quick kiss. “I already took care of that. She said even a September wedding is possible if we're open to a compromise when it comes to the venue,” he told you.

“I'm not even surprised to hear that,” you said with a laugh. “So September, huh? I'll need to start looking for a wedding dress right now then.”

The next few months were challenging when it came to the races, the car wasn't performing the way it should have, but his frustration always melted away the moment his eyes fell on you, whether you were there at the track or during a video call after the race. He was always reminded that he would get to marry you soon, that all he had to do was be patient.

When the time came, he was full of energy, he was as excited as a little kid on Christmas, and he couldn't wait to hear you say yes. The thought of Charles walking you down the aisle made him smile every time because you knew how important that was to you. To the both of you. 

And when he tried to imagine what you would look like, how your dress would hug your body, how your hair and makeup would be done, he couldn't stop grinning. If there was one thing you and your brother had in common, it was the ability to look effortlessly pretty without trying.

But reality surpassed his wildest dreams, because you were breathtakingly beautiful. And his mind began to wander, he was already several steps ahead, planning to do something that could take your relationship to the next level, and his thoughts only returned to the present when the ceremony got the the I dos. 

Before the reception began, he flagged down the photographer to ask for the photos he had taken not long ago, and once you both received the pictures, he immediately posted it on Instagram. He knew he should have waited and posted a photo dump, but he was too eager to share the news of his marriage with the world.

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maxverstappen1: My best friend, my soulmate, my WIFE. I love you, sweetheart.

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Your wedding was truly a celebration of your relationship, of your future together, and the love that tied you to all those people in your lives. He was one of the three people who knew a little secret; a secret he allowed to be announced to you and your family on your wedding day.

So you two and your family members gathered in the room you had gotten ready in, and you all watched Charles who was pale as a ghost, fidgeting with his watch until Alex reached for his hand with a supportive smile.

“I know this is your big day, sis,” he began, giving you an apologetic look, “but Max let us make the announcement today since you're all here.” 

He stopped and looked over at his girlfriend, letting her be the one to get to the point. “I’m pregnant,” she said happily.

Max’s eyes never left you, he was waiting to see your reaction, and he didn't regret waiting, He saw that wide smile that appeared on your face, and heard that adorable happy squeal before you ran over to your brother to give them both a hug. That's exactly the reaction he was expecting from you, this is why he told them to make the announcement that day.

Once everyone left to have a drink while they told it to their friends too, the two of you remained in there alone, and he was quick to close the door and push your back against it before you could walk out as well. You gave him a surprised look, but he turned the lock as he kissed you fiercely, his hand moving down to your waist to keep you in place.

“I was thinking,” he began as his lips trailed along your jawline. “And before you say it, I'm definitely not turning this into some kind of competition with Charles. But remember when we talked about starting the baby project after the wedding? We are after the wedding technically, no?”

Now that you knew what he wanted, you reached up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him into another kiss. “We’ll have to be quick if we don't want the guests to notice,” you mumbled when you pulled away for a moment.

He gave you a disapproving look at this. “I don't care about the guests. I will take my time with you. Now, buttons or zipper?” 

“Buttons,” you replied with a quiet chuckle.

With a groan, he stepped back and moved his index finger in a circle. “Turn around,” he said. As he began the painfully slow and annoying task of unbuttoning your dress’ back, he added, “A zipper would have been so much better.”

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux and 238,994 others

yourusername: Little Verstappen in the works.

tagged: maxverstappen1

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pascale.leclerc.355: I'm so glad my babies will soon have their own little families. All the best for you two!

alexandrasaintmleux: Our babies will be the best of friends ❤️

⤷ charles_leclerc: But our boy will be the better driver.

⤷ maxverstappen1: You wish.

maxverstappen1: I love the both of you so much ❤️ I'm lucky to have you in my life.

arthur_leclerc: Congratulations, sis!

[If you approach a Lyon lion hungry you will see teeth]

Max had always known he wouldn't race forever, and with his son in the picture, he always made sure you were okay with him going on. Because he would spend most part of the year traveling, leaving the two of you behind, but you always told him it was okay, that you could go to a few races with him to spend some time together.

When his son became old enough, he took him karting to see if he was even interested. He had grown up watching him in F1, he saw old videos of his races against his uncle, so neither of you were surprised when at the age of six he began to talk about starting to race himself. But it wasn't his idea only, Charles's son was also hell-bent on racing. 

This is how their old rivalry continued with a new generation, although they definitely didn't hate each other off the track. It was truly heartwarming to see them celebrate together, hugging each other after a successful race. Of course, this came with the media's attention, they often wrote about the two being at the top of their category, but neither of them paid much attention to that.

The problems began when his son fell back into the midfield in the new season, because shortly after articles began to appear about his talent. Well, more like the lack of it. Some journalists thought he didn't have what it took to be as good as his father, and Max was fuming from anger every time he read one of these.

“Just don't read them,” you suggested one night after putting your son to bed. 

You sat in his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, and Max put down his phone with a sigh. “It's hard to ignore these idiots. They know absolutely nothing about him, they don't know what's going on with him behind the scenes,” he said before giving you a soft kiss.

It was true. During the break, your nephew proudly showed him an article about the two of them, so he figured he should do his own research. And all he saw were articles where journalists were comparing him to his father, analyzing his every move on the track. It put pressure on him, pressure that he apparently couldn't handle.

He didn't hesitate to take him to a psychologist, knowing perfectly well his mental health came first, but it was a slow process. The two of you did your best to help him, you always told him how good he was, that he just needed a little time to ease back into racing after the break. And you both also assured him that you would love him more than anything even if he stopped racing altogether.

“Did you read what my father said?” he asked you suddenly, and you shook your head in response. “He said that I wasn't pushing him hard enough. I swear he's out of his goddamn mind,” he said angrily. 

You placed a soft kiss on his temple, then rested your chin on top of his head. “You know what he's like. As long as you don't start acting like him–”

“I would never,” he was quick to assure you.

“I know. Limiting contact between him and our son was the best decision we could make. Let's just hope these comments don't reach our boy.”

Max began to place soft kisses on your neck, his hand slowly moving up your back under the shirt. “I love you two so much,” he mumbled against your skin. “I'll discuss what to do tomorrow. I know some journalists have been trying to reach me for a comment, if the team says it's okay to talk to them, I will. Nobody should mess with my family.”

“Just try to stay calm. I know it's been a long time since Mad Max came out to play, but we're doing fine without him,” you said with a short laugh.

He looked up at you as he captured your lips in a kiss. “I can't make any promises.”

The next day the team gave him the green light to comment on the speculations under the condition of every single word being sent via email to have proof later. Though the PR people tried to tone down his harsh reaction, Max wasn't about to let them. He wanted the journalists to know he wasn't about to let them write that bullshit about his son anymore. 

If they had a problem, they should come to him first for comment instead of publishing these pieces so anyone, including his son, could see it. If they wrote something like that, he wanted to have a quote from himself there too, mostly because he wanted his son to know his father was always in his corner.

As he waited for news about the journalists who received his comment from his team, Max saw his phone buzz on the table to signal a new message. When he checked it, he saw it was from Charles, and since he had nothing better to do, he quickly checked it.

Just as he hoped, some of the articles were extended with his comment, or in some cases brand new pieces were published. They visibly toned down the vitriol, probably understanding that they were talking about a kid, not an adult who could protect himself. He even received a message or two in which journalists apologized for the way they handled this topic. 

The perks of including two off the record sentences to make them think. “If it was your child, would you be happy to read this? Wouldn't you worry how it affects them?” he wrote.

When he got home, the first thing he did was hugging his son tightly, telling him how much he loved him, promising to play against him in the sim rig after dinner. You were watching them with a loving smile on your lips, one that drew him closer and made him kiss you softly.

“Have you checked Instagram lately?” you asked him. Raising an eyebrow, Max shook his head. With a smile, you opened it on your phone and navigated to your brother's account before giving it to him. “We can count on our family, no matter what. As long as our son has this support, everything's gonna be okay.”

When he read the caption, he couldn't help but smile. “We should show him,” he said, motioning towards your son who was writing his homework. 

You shook your head as you took back your phone. “He was the one who saw it first.”

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 423,135 others

charles_leclerc: Like fathers, like sons. They will carry on our legacy because they are both insanely talented, and we are proud of them, no matter what happens in their careers. We love you, boys!

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yourusername: ❤️

arthur_leclerc: My nephews are badasses, don't mess with them.

user1: Those articles are disgusting, I don't get how anyone in their right mind can write that about a kid.

⤷ user2: No wonder Max finally commented on them. But it's so good to see how much he loves his son.

⤷ user3: Mad Max is back!

note 2: That's all, folks. What do you think? Feedback is always welcome.

[batsyheere]

Phantom doesn't trust the Justice League as far as he could throw them- which was a weird statement to make considering, so he might as well say he did not trust them.

First there had been the attempt to exorcise him. That had been done with some very obviously coerced members of Dark, who had eventually been stopped by a panicked Constantine who Phantom now had weekly tea with. (Because Danny needed more ways to defend himself outside of his ghostly abilities, and especially with the attention of the JL now focused on him. Constantine had not put up much of a fight, especially after that incident.)

Following that had been the JL's attempt at peacemaking and finally handling the Anti-Ecto Acts- which had simply sped up the work that Team Phantom had been working on since the majority of their group hit 17 and the threats were more human than ghost. Taking credit for the years of activism and appeal Team Phantom had already made efforts in had soured whatever they wished to gain.

Offering him a place within the teams of Young Justice or the Titans had been another layer of insult when they tried to pressure him into some sort of mentorship- Phantom very much was insulted by the implications that he needed any such help after the years of being left to fend for himself. And the implications that they thought they could control and observe him now.

The final straw was their invitation to join the Justice League itself.

"I don't know about you," Phantom drawls, tone almost apathetic as his head leans against his fist. He was hovering in the air, sat back in a pose his little sister often called his "I'm dealing with idiots and politics" posture. "But if I've repeatedly rejected and ignored an individual who asked for help, then ignored their requests to leave them be... well, I wouldn't assume they would wish to join your club and be pleased by it."

"King Phantom," Wonder Woman begins, one of the few who actually had any sense. She looks exhausted.

Another member, one of the Green Lanterns whose names Danny couldn't be bothered with after some rather volatile debates with the dead of Oa, cuts her off.

"Look, kid, you're being offered something most other heroes only dream of being offered-"

"Most other people have to be recommended or apply to join the League, or otherwise be ignored and left to handle situations such as a chunk of the Midwest sinking into the Infinite Realms through the directions of a tyrannical conqueror seeking to gain access to the mortal world."

Silence. There were a few winces, as well as a few heroes who were glancing nervously towards Superman who was frowning.

"Look, we've obviously made mistakes-" the man in blue begins. Phantom cuts him short as well.

"A mistake is dismissing a call about ghosts as a prank," he states. "A mistake is making assumptions based off the research of science and believing it to be true."

He sat up, crown flaring above his head with frost as the temperature in the room dropped.

"What you have done is blatantly allow a government to persecute and prepare acts of genocide, while ignoring the evidence and pleas of the people you swear to protect. You then proceed to ignore the word of those who have stood the line of defence and resolve the matter without any representation of the voices that fought long enough to be heard."

"What would you have us do."

It was Batman who spoke up. While not his favorite member of the League, Phantom could appreciate the fact that the man had been left out of most of the formal decision making on these matters- even Amity Park had heard of the strange mass outbreak of Arkham residents spilling into Gotham- something that had not happened in quite a while. It had kept Batman and his associate busy enough to keep away from League business, in an effort to keep the chaos contained to Gotham's borders.

But Batman had many issues and Phantom had very little care for them.

"At this time? Move on. The situation is handled, and those who have not screwed up diplomatic matters are informed and may keep contact. We want no further ties to the Justice League or it's members at this time."

[pedrospatch]

splash

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33

Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.

She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.

“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”

He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.

“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”

But it had been too late.

Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”

Joel decided to put his foot down.

Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.

“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”

“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.

“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.

He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.

Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.

Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.

Like Rosie does.

Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall—it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.

“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”

Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”

“Joel—”

“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.

“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”

He’d found very little consolation in that.

Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.

“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.

“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”

“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”

“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”

Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.

“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”

She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”

“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”

She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”

Groaning, you shove through the front door.

You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.

It would take some getting used to—again.

“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.

There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”

“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”

“How long is a while, El?”

“She invited me to stay for dinner.”

You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”

Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”

“Did you ask Joel for permission?”

“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”

Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?” 

“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”

Sighing in defeat, you step aside. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”

“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.

There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.

Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.

“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.

“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.

He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”

Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.

“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”

She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks. 

After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”

“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”

“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”

“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”

Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”

“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.

“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”

You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.

He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.

“Joel? What happened to my child?”

“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”

“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”

Rosie beams. “Yeah!”

Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”

“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.

“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.

Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.

“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her. 

“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”

About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply. 

“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him. 

Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”

“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”

His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”

Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.

“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”

Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”

“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.

He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”

divider credit to @/saradika 🩵

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Lighter, Billy, Anton, Ben Bigger, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to being under a mistletoe with his gn crush please?

Oh my God Oh my God I'm so late.

Pretend it's Christmas! just pretend! shut up!!

ZZZ Boys react being under the mistletoe

You smiled and chatted with a little group of your friends, the managers at random play hosted a Christmas party in their parking lot and who are you to decline your best friends! With a few chairs and tables Christmas lights and even a giant projector playing classic Christmas movies it quickly became very lively Even some of the people running the shop next door brought homemade food and treats, and some alcohol. After a drink or two and introducing yourself to a few people, You somehow made your way under a familiar green plant with someone you knew.

Lighter Lorenz

He'll try to act like he wasn't the one who tried so hard to look so casual standing close enough between you and the mistletoe. He'd been trying to get you underneath all night, And now that you're right next to him he had to hold back how much he was smiling as all he did was look up.

"Well, would you look at that... I'm not too familiar with the rules, are you?" The big fat liar said, letting a little curve of a smile grace his freshly moisturized lips from the chapstick he had used earlier. He was already sneaking his arms around your waist pulling you closer to kiss him. You decided to not call him out for his blatant lie as he almost completely took the lead and kissed you.

Billy Kid

He generally thought mistletoe was a myth, a myth that someone like him would never be under a plant like that. He didn't even know that The plant actually was a real life plant until Nicole had to explain to him what he was underneath. And once everything hits him all at once.

Billy.exe stopped working

He doesn't care if he can't feel your soft lips, the fact that you kissed him counts. But damn it was one of those days where he really wish he could feel maybe he should get that skin sensation update. It's expensive but any price he would pay to feel your lips again.

Anton Ivanov

The most chill out of everyone. "Oh I'm just giving you a kiss? Sure!" As he goes in to kiss you. Using the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you has him fist bumping the air.

Anton is the kind of guy who makes his feelings for you known. He's also so blatant with his feelings that you think he's joking. If it was anywhere else on that mistletoe, he would have kissed them on the cheek or something, but no, for you. He makes sure to kiss you where it counts. He'll even ask "do you want more?"please say yes he would like that.

Ben Bigger

Poor bear he's practically shaking. Despite being twice your size He scared that he might hurt you or nip you on accident with his sharp teeth. "You don't have to if you don't want to... You can just kiss me right here." He says with a smile His claw pointing to his cheek. He could never accept a kiss from your lips. It's not the right time!

He'll make sure to bend to your height. His eyes closed, bracing for your soft lips. He could hear his heart pounding so loud that it drowned out everyone else. He hopes no one is looking. He might die from embarrassment or cardiac arrest, whichever one comes first.

You surprise him by touching his cute face and kissing his little nose. He hopes that you can't see his blushing face through his brown fur, but he's not helping to hide how he feels with his paws covering his face.

Wise

Damn it! He told his sister not to hang up that thing! And when trying to take it down you just so happen to bump into him. His eyes went wide as his heart jumped in his throat instantly forgetting what he was doing. His voice cracks as you point out the mistletoe that he's trying to reach for.

"Y-yeah That's there... Um... So listen you don't have to if you-" You were done hearing it as you kissed him on the lips. Thanking his self-restraint that day for swallowing his internal screaming. But he couldn't do much to hide the blush on his face as he smiled. "Forward aren't you... Save some for me." Four words that he will be regretting for the rest of his life.

Fine, the mistletoe can stay... For now, he'll have to thank his sister later.

Von Lycaon

To him a mistletoe is childish, Even as a younger pup He thought it was a little stupid. But with that bright smile on your face how could he refuse. Why spoil your fun? You look so happy to see him and you're cute face always makes his tail wag.

"where would you like my lips to lay?" He asks. When you appoint to your lips his eyebrows flick up for just a second before his smile widens. "Who am I to turn down such a request." He can't help but give you a little extra pressing his nose against your hand before moving to kiss your lips. Now he definitely understands the appeal of mistletoe.

Asaba Harumasa

He would probably take the mistletoe that is tied to the ceiling and bring it over to you. He taps your shoulder and jiggles it in his hand with a smug smile. He will regret this for the rest of his life, but who cares? He has a little alcohol in his system, and you're right there. His heart could burst when he felt your lips against his. He wanted more so badly. He tried to pull you in closer. His eyes were half-lit as if he were under a spell.

He had to stop himself from going in for another kiss. Your lips were so perfect. He wished he could do more than a quick peck, but with people watching, he couldn't just slip his tongue in your mouth.

[unacknowledgeable]

Uhm, hey!

I love your serial killer reader so so much, and I just want to say that it just scratches that itch in my brain.

Though, I feel like commissioners Gordon could be a yandere of a sort. He’s obsessed with the killer and finding this person, willing to break any law to find evidence, to risk his own morals to get a clue. And if he finds out its reader???

Well, I’ll be kinda like a Hannibal and will situation, but platonic. Like, reader now has their sight on this man, curious on how he’ll play the game, and Gordon is too obsessed not to play.

Anyway, could I be 🔎? Thanks for reading!!

Oh anon, anon anon anon, big kith for you (to transfer the worms, obviously) I told myself i would take a BREAK, but you, you, I'm bouncing off the walls bc of you

Y’know I actually have a spreadsheet with all of the batfams ages? when certain events happen, motivations, etc, now I gotta add gordon too, goodness me.

I honestly haven't watched Hannibal QwQ haha, would you believe me if I said most of the media I consume is actually feel good kids cartoons….? 

BUT I have been wanting to watch it so I watched the first few episodes before replying to this, because I gotta be informed y’know? admittedly i find there's a lot of disconnect between the correlating characters, but this is a wonderful jumping off point!

ANYWAY, I have actually been trying to think of a way to give the MC more of a life outside of angst with the batfam and, well, you know, murdering people. and this? This is so fun. I think the MC would probably know Gordon through Barbara (obviously), but that's not how they met. He was there, the night your mother died, arriving on the scene to find something he had hoped he wouldn't have found again, not after the first time. A small, 8 year old child, orphaned in a single night.

 Admittedly, that's where the similarities ended.  Where Bruce lost his parents in a back alley of Gotham, you lost yours within your own home. Where two gunshots marked the Wayne couple, your mother was bludgeoned . Where Bruce had wept, blood on his shoes as he gripped his parents bodies, pleading and fighting to hold on, you sat outside, waiting for police to arrive, not a drop of blood on you. 

Getting you to answer questions was like pulling teeth, all they could gather was that your mother had sent you to bed and you later woke up to find her body in the kitchen, having already been dead for several hours. They figured it was a robbery gone wrong, which would explain the killer not knowing another person was in the house, having fled the scene as soon as possible. But that didn't explain why on earth you didn't wake up to what was obviously a loud struggle, there was simply no way. 

The blood results very quickly answered that question and sparked hundreds more. Your mother had been microdosing your food with sleeping pills, all found within the apartment under her name. Either she didn't want to deal with putting you to bed or wanted to make sure you stayed there throughout the night. The fact that you were even still conscious was kinda a miracle. Gordon seriously wished that had been the biggest surprise from those damned tests. Because it turned out his earlier comparisons with Bruce Wayne were far more accurate then he ever would have guessed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not exactly a stretch to assume Gordan kept some kind a of contact with you after everything is settled, he’s done it before, dudes literally one of Bruce's best friends 

He sees you at charity galas a lot, and after catching you trying to sneak alcohol from one of the tables? He appoints himself as your chaperone for any galas you both happen to attend from there on out, which is quite a few of them over the years

You'd have been a lot more annoyed with him if he hadn't allowed you to ramble and talk non-stop throughout the whole event (he was a distraction, like the alcohol, at least this distraction is legal)

This continues on even when your older, when he no longer has any legal need to herd you away from the drink tables, it's just habit now, and you hate breaking habits

While your connection with Bruce can get you many places, it's your connection with the Commissioner that basically guarantees you a position in the coroner's office

yeah, they work in the coroner's office as a mortuary assistant heheheeh  

It's not really suspicious either, Gordon had been well aware of your goal for the job for many years (long before you started making the bodies yourself)

So now, not only do you have near unlimited access to all the case files the bats have on you, you also had access to what the police knew (it's mostly the same stuff, but you had to cover all your bases, god you're just like your father)

There was some sort of irony, performing autopsies on the people you killed, but you don't care to look for it, more focused on destroying any bits of evidence you can

Gordon is no stranger to giving out confidential police info, hell he has a glorified flashlight built specifically to call the bat and just hand him case files, ON TOP OF THE POLICE STATION!!

You often work similar hours, so you let him talk and talk and talk at length about how fucking weird this serial killer in particular is

Unlike with the batfam, reader literally gets a front row seat to Gordon's descent into obsession

You'd seen him with almost every other criminal case that popped up during your time spent around the police department, so you caught on pretty quickly that this was was no normal case to him anymore

He was obsessive, rattling on about the motives and habits of this killer, talking like he knew them personally (oh the ironyyyy) and at first? It weirded you the fuck out.

Not the behavior in general, but that it was essentially focused solely on you, you kept him up at night, kept him guessing, wondering when you’ll strike next, how brutal will it be, more or less than usual?

At first you're like “oh okay, ummmm…. you good buddy? I'm not sure you're all there yourself actually”

You'd just never felt so seen, at least, not by someone still living

Now, Gordon's obsession isn't based on nothing, when I said he found the way SK!reader operated weird asf, I meant it, this man is utterly baffled by it

Normally, when crime scenes are as brutal as yours, its personal, they know the person they've murdered and they hold so much rage in their heart that they can't help but try to cause as much damage to the victim as possible

These crimes also only ever happen once. Not dozens and dozens of times, committed by the same person, it is always so insanely messy that it's easy to pinpoint the who, how and why. Open and shut cases really, just another Tuesday

But when he looks closer? It feels…. Sterile, Methodical, Planned out, scripted, like hitting replay on a particularly interesting scene in a show

This? This has all the showy, over-exaggerated nature of Gotham's greatest rogues, down to the last detail, to the last drop of blood. but it's missing the rogue

It has all of the signs of an attention seeking psychopath, but none of the drive to follow through. To take your rightful credit

Normally such a passionate crime would have someone of equal magnitude behind it. The Joker and his killing Jokes, Ivy and her Eco-terrorism, Bane and his hulking demeanor, Two-face and his double standards-

The point is, there's always a show before the Finale, but with you? He only gets a glimpse at the film before the end credits roll. 

It’s like you're diverting where your real motivations lie, like this is you holding back.

 It’s driving him up a wall

 Your really not making this easy for him, ever your fathers child

Besides that, I'm gonna end this with a few interesting points I thought of that are more difficult to go into more detail rn

Reader is pretty okay with hanging out with Gordon mostly to be petty to Barbara

Of the mindset of “oh, you want my dad? Fine, your dad's mine now. Y oink-”

Later, this'll be a pretty big blow to Bruce's ego, bc like, that's his best friend, so how can he really be upset that Gordon stepped up where he failed? Won’t stop him from being mopey about it though.

It's also a hit to Alfred's as well, because how hadn't he noticed you growing so close to the commissioner? He thought your pulling away from him for emotional support was just you growing up, not you looking for it elsewhere 

Gordon has also gotten the closest to finding the reader out, completely by accident

It was one of those days and he was worried about your sour mood, so he figured he’d drop by your workplace, pick you up after your shift ended, and go get take out

Safe to say, he was not expecting to find you mid brawl with some random drunk in an alley only 4 blocks away from where you worked

He stepped in immediately, to your surprise and horror, but he… he checked you for damage instead of slapping you in cuffs, made sure you were okay before calling an EMT to the location, and the only questions he had asked were “Are you okay sprout?”

You thanked your lucky stars that it was the drunk who had thrown the first swing, had instigated the fight, that the camera from the corner store across the street helped solidify that it was self defense, that Gordon had shown up just before it switched to a grizzly murder, and not during.

Another side story could also be the reader getting weirdly invested in the case about them at some point, because they realized they had a copycat killer and it really pissed them off lol

[leaawrites]

Hi can please request something with Charles Leclerc x reader based on Juno by Sabrina Carpenter

Juno (CL16)

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Summary: when you see your boyfriend interact with kids, the baby fever kicks in.

Warnings: talks of pergnancy, fluff,

Wourdcount: 0.6k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

She couldn’t look away from him. And although it happened often, now it felt different. It felt more significant. The deep care inside her flooding her veins and daydreams taking over reality.

What if this was their child?

She had seen Charles with kids before. It always amazed her how gentle he was and how much of a natural. How he wouldn’t get frustrated with their crying and sometimes be the only person who could calm them down.

But now, since they had a talk about it, where Charles confessed that he had thought about it before and that - when it happened - he wouldn’t be one to say no. In fact, Y/n was the one who stopped it from happening that night. Saying, that she was still enjoying her tile with him alone and that she didn’t want anything to change in their little world. But maybe it wouldn’t be bad to expand it a bit further.

They were walking through the paddock, when all of a sudden, a smile child was stood in front of Charles, bright eyes and a huge smile on his face. He was holding a Ferrari cap that was double his head size and a pen. Straightening his arms and wiggling his fingers to make his wish be known. Charles crouched down, holding her hand until the last second, before taking the cap and the pen and smilingly interact with the little boy.

She didn’t know what he said, she didn’t pay attention. All that she knew was, that they had to have that talk again.

Charles closed the door to his driver room as soon as they were in it. Pulling her close to his chest and kissing her like he’d never done it before. Like this was the first time he tasted her. Y/n started giggling at the feeling of his excitement to be alone. She lost his lips but held him close, her arms around his neck and his on her hips.

“You look beautiful today,” Charles whispered, loving to see the blush that crept up on her cheeks whenever he spoke in that low voice.

“Thank you,” Y/n said back, smiling. “I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

When those words left her lips, Charles looked at her perplexed. He hadn’t done anything wrong right? He hoped to know everything that made his girlfriend uncomfortable after 4 years of dating, especially if it was his doing.

“What is it?” His voice went back to normal.

“You remember that talk we had a few weeks ago, right? The one about our future?” She asked, making him nod in confusion. She didn’t want to break it all off, right? “And you remember how I told you that I wasn’t ready to have a baby, right?”

Charles once again nodded. Not catching up to what she was indicating. “What about it?”

“I couldn’t help but reconsider when I saw you interact with that little boy outside,” she confessed, looking down and biting her lip in a nervous manner.

He could feel her hands tighten behind his neck, her fingers nervously fumbling.

“You wanna have a child with me?” He asked. His finger hooking under her chin to make her look up. His voice was soft, the same as his eyes, some eagerness laying behind both.

“I say, that if it happens, I’m not gonna be mad about it,” she declared. Knowing he would’ve started trying right than and there if she gave him permission to.

“Tonight,” he said, kissing her once more. “A little you would look so cute, you know.”“Tonight,” he said, kissing her once more, making her melt into him. Pulling away enough to speak he spoke his own mind. The thoughts occupying him for longer than he could count the days for at this point. It seemed like they haf aleays been there. “A little you would look so cute, you know.”

“A little us sounds better,” she hummed.

[666kuna]

Dilf! Sukuna would be one of those guys that defend women in danger+ would also be so bad at rizzing girls up that he just sounds desperate and pathetic[endearing]

“You’re the new teacher? I didn’t know they hired young girls these days. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d be the reason my son is getting his abc’s” he says as he looks at you up and down savoring every curve and line of your

You gave the parent a benefit of the doubt and took whatever he said as a compliment all while returning his “compliment” with an awkward chuckle.

“Thank you…”

“Say…if you come by my house and give some private lessons for him I’m more than capable to pay you more than the school does” he says smirking hiding the perversed meaning behind his shit request.

It’s the first time some weird parent tries to pull this type of behaviour on you the whole interaction leaves you in shock as you smile awkwardly trying to find the right words to respond and the patience to not punch him in the face. Your heart beats rapidly with your fists turning clammy and white from anxiety of not knowing what or how to respond to the fool of a parent.

“MISS Y/N I MISSED YOUUUUU” a familiar pink haired kid comes running as he gives you a hug. Shocked was an understatement by you were more than grateful for Yuuji to intervene.

“you know me and your teacher were having a conversation don’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to interrupt adults” The random parent says giving Yuuji a fake smile.

“Yeah? I’m the parent.” Sukuna says curtly with the most unamused expression known to man.

The male turns around to take a look at whoever the parent of the funky insolent child only to be greeted by a 6’5 fully tatted male who looked like he was more than capable to break his bones with just a simple flick. It also didn’t help the fact that Sukuna’s aura(lol) was more than threatening enough on its own without having to say a single word.

“I guess kids these days don’t learn enough manners I’ll take my leave for now” the inferior male says gulping as he puts up a front before scrunching up his face as he walks away.

Sukuna glares daggers at the stupid fool making sure he leaves the vicinity.

A huge breath of relief was let out as you kneeled down onto Yuuji’s height thanking him and his scarily hot dad for saving you from whatever the situation was.

“You guys have no idea how thankful i am, Yuuji you and your dad literally saved me”

“WE KNOWWWW, Hiro’s dad is a bit creepy” Yuuji says happily as he brings out a couple of souvenirs from his summer trip with his family to you before running into the building excitedly leaving you and his dad alone.

“Did he ask you if you for private lessons?” Sukuna asks with a smug smile

“Yes- what how did you know?!”

“He’s a douche and a weirdo he says that to every new teacher even the volunteers. I hope you’re okay after that interaction” Sukuna scoffs annoyed at the male’s behaviour. Knowing that Sukuna at his prime would’ve beaten the hell out of the weirdo for making women uncomfortable.

“I’m fine honestly I wish I could return the favour i don’t even know what i would’ve done if you and Yuuji didn’t come by” you say in a appreciative tone

Sukuna upon hearing this immediately takes the opportunity to ask you on something that has been on the back of his mind from the moment he laid eyes on you.

“You can return the favour by coming by my place for dinner I’ll cook, I can even pick you up just let me know when you’re free” he says in the spur of the moment not noticing he sounds like a desperate, desperate man.

You were so shocked at Sukuna’s abrupt response to the point you could literally feel the heat rising onto your cheeks making you smile sheepishly before bursting out in laughter.

“I didn’t think you would ask me that, but im free anytime on Saturday is it fine with you?”

“Saturday? Perfect” he says grinning as he sees you walking away he came to his senses realising he forgot to ask for your number

“You didn’t give me your number” he says from afar

It was your turn to leave him into the flustering mess. You smirked looking back at the giant of a male waiting for your response.

“I have yours don’t worry i’ll text you later” you say playfully.

It was true you do have his number. You’ve saved it from the moment he sent Yuuji on the first day.

Sukuna was lucky enough he didn’t have whatever his dad had cause frankly Sukuna would’ve probably gone into cardiac arrest with that statement alone. With that it is settled Yuuji will be sent off to Toji’s house for a sleepover while his dad gets straight to business.

Edit:not proofread was done when im literally ten secons awya from asleep i appoliguse for shit writing

[moonstruckme]

hi mae:) would you be willing to write a sirius x reader fic where reader just gets hammered and spills all of her family trauma to sirius? like, she’s no longer in that environment because she moved out but they were just really mean and terrible to her and she’s never told sirius but then she finally does and he’s just like “poor baby, let me tell you all of the love and reassurance you never got as a child:(“

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 634 words

You worry you’ve traumatized your boyfriend. 

Sirius has you tucked firmly under his chin, both arms squishing you to his front, and you’re not sure if the rocking is for you or him or possibly both. 

“Sirius,” you murmur, some of the vowels lost due to your malfunctioning tongue. “Baby, m’sorry.” 

“What’re you sorry for?” Your boyfriend’s voice sounds thin. He’s had a bit less to drink than you, but his words still sound like they’re written in cursive, strung together by thick emotion. “You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

You sigh. It feels nice, being cocooned in his warmth like this. He’s squeezing you just tight enough to be comfortable, and he smells more like himself than like rum. Your next inhale, you focus on it. Clove and nighttime. 

“I shouldn’t’ve dumped on you like this,” you admit.

“Yes you should have.” Sirius’ lips press firmly to the top of your head. “Sweetheart, I only wish you’d told me sooner. Why didn’t you?” 

His sympathy is bringing you dangerously close to tears again. Your first wave has only just dried. “Because I know it’s a lot,” you say, attempting to swallow the blockage in your throat. “S’not like you don’t have your own family shit to deal with. And anyway, I moved out.” 

“Baby.” Sirius sounds devastated. “I don’t care what shit I have, it doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about yours, too. I always do.” His fingers bunch in the fabric of your top, short nails scratching lightly against the skin underneath. “And I know better than fucking anyone that moving out helps, but it doesn’t fix everything. It can—you can still hurt.” 

Where Sirius’ chin touches your forehead, you feel a hot tear drip onto your skin. A pained sound slips from your throat as you pull away from him, taking his face between your hands. 

And you’d expected him to look upset, mournful even, but Sirius looks livid. Every sharp angle of his beautiful face is wrathful, silent tears gleaming on his cheeks and dark brows lowered over stormcloud eyes. His hands stay bunched in your top as if he means to keep you tethered to him by sheer force of will. 

“You’re good,” he tells you, voice quavering with conviction. “You’re lovely, and kind, and more than enough. Got it?” 

“Siri,” you whisper, brushing some of the wetness from his cheeks. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” he insists. Some of the harshness has waned from his expression, though, under your gentle touch. “Nobody should ev—” His voice splinters, and Sirius looks frustrated with himself. You want to roll the both of you up in the comforter of your bed and never come out. “Should ever treat their kid that way,” he finishes. He looks you in your eyes, fierce in his earnestness. “I’m gonna love you so hard those fuckers will regret not giving it to you sooner.” 

Though you try to stop it, a corner of your mouth tips up. “I love you, too, baby. You can love me as hard as you want.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” He cracks a smile at your salacious tone. You stop trying to hold back the rest of your grin, and he grabs your face in both hands, smashing his lips to yours. 

The kiss is firm but not harsh, so fond it makes your heart feel like a bruise. Sirius moves to your forehead next. 

“My baby,” he says against your skin, both amused and ardent. Drops his forehead to yours. “I’m gonna make up for it. I’m gonna give you everything you never got back then. Do you have any idea how much I love you, sweet thing?” 

“I love you, too,” you promise him, pushing against his forehead lightly with your own. “Don’t worry, you already make up for everything.” 

[peachyhalstead]

married man | j. halstead

request:Can you do a Jay Halstead x Reader. They are both married and have a child together. The child just started pre-k or kindergarten and since the reader is heavily pregnant Jay has been dropping off and picking up their kid. And maybe like the single moms are flirting with Jay since they think he might be a single dad but they get surprised when the reader picks the kid one day after giving birth.

pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none??

a/n: dad!jay dad!jay dad!jay !!!!! they have a little boy (his name is dylan) and a newborn girlie (what should her name be)

------

Grumbling as the alarm went off, you blindly reached over and whacked Jay on the chest. “Why’s it have to be so loud?”

Jay chuckled, silencing his phone’s alarm. “It’s not even that loud, babe.”

You glared at him through narrow eyes. “If I wasn’t about to pop right now I’d give you a piece of my mind.”

Letting out a hearty laugh, Jay got out of bed and folded his portion of the comforter back up, trapping the heat for you. “Only a few more weeks, babe. Then you’ll be able to move without having to pee every two seconds.”

You slowly followed Jay, yawning and rubbing the nine-month bump as you headed into the kitchen to package your son’s lunch.

He had recently started kindergarten, and loved telling you and Jay about all his escapades with his classmates as he learned different things.

“I could’ve done that, you didn’t have to get up.” Jay said, popping a capsule into the coffee machine and starting it.

Shrugging, you zipped the lunchbox closed and set it next to the matching blue backpack, one hand going to rub at the sore spot on your back. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.”

Jay noticed, and his hands slowly made their way to the exact spot that bothered you in your first pregnancy. “Who do you thinks going to ask me out today, hm?”

Laughing softly, you clicked your tongue at Jay. “You really enjoy that, don’t you? Miss getting hit on?”

Jay shook his head. “Don’t miss it one bit. Just enjoy seeing those soccer moms think their whispers are quiet.”

A few weeks ago Jay had mentioned that some of the moms at drop-off had been talking about Jay, commenting on his lack of wedding band and no significant other ever at drop off or pick up.

“Momma, when will you go to school with me?” Dylan asked, your son finally making his appearance in his pajamas.

“Soon, little bug. Once Little Sister is here, I’ll drop you off with Daddy some days.”

Dylan frowned. “Can Sissy come now?”

You huffed, wanting nothing more than to deliver the weight that seemed to be constantly on your bladder. “I wish, but I think she needs a few more weeks.”

Jay smiled into his coffee cup, phone chiming with a text from Hailey. “Come on, Dyl. Let’s get dressed so you can show your friends your new shoes.”

Dylan beamed at the thought, and followed Jay back to his room, leaving you alone in the warm kitchen. The aroma of coffee lingered as you found a chair to rest in, hand absently tracing circles over your distended belly.

A sigh of contentment escaped you; this was your world, and despite the groggy mornings and occasional aggravations - like trying to convince Dylan to brush his teeth properly - you wouldn’t change it for anything else. That was the beauty of family - it wasn’t always perfect, but it was yours. And that made all the imperfections precious in their own odd way.

The sound of Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts as he asked Dylan to choose between two shirts. You smiled, knowing how seriously your little boy took these morning decisions. Sipping on some water and slowly standing up, you decided to start breakfast.

The scent of eggs and bacon soon filled the room, joining the still lingering coffee aroma. Dylan would be excited; he loved his simple morning breakfasts. As you were flipping an egg, Jay returned with Dylan in tow. Their matching grins caught your eye.

“What are you two up to?” You questioned playfully, adjusting your hold on your bump.

“Nothing,” they both chimed in unison, their grins growing even wider.

“Okay,” you drew out the first syllable, grabbing a plate and moving the eggs for Dylan to eat, blowing on them as you cut them into pieces.

“Eat, then Daddy will bring you to school.” You smiled, cracking a few more eggs and grabbing a tortilla and the toppings you knew Jay liked, quickly making a breakfast wrap for him.

Wrapping it in foil, you smiled to yourself as you heard Jay helping Dylan put on his sneakers.

“Ok, we gotta go, Little Man! Go give Momma a kiss.”

Dylan skipped over to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs, promising you he’d come home with a drawing to put in the nursery.

Thanking him, you smiled at Jay as he grabbed the wrap and his badge, stopping to press a kiss to your forehead. “Take it easy today, babe.”

“I will. Go break hearts and catch perps, Jay.”

——

Jay hid his eye roll as he followed Dylan to the drop off location, ignoring the looks from the few single mothers nearby.

“I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t grab that ass? He’s such a good dad, too.”

Jay overheard one of the mothers and shook his head, stifling a laugh. He still found it amusing and somewhat flattering to know that he was the topic of their little gossip circle. But he also knew firmly where his heart lay - at home with you and Dylan, and soon, your new little girl.

As Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, he turned to Jay with a big grin. "Daddy, do you think I can tell Mrs. Johnson about Sissy coming soon?"

Jay bent down to his level, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, buddy. I'm sure she will be thrilled to hear it."

At that moment, a pair of giggling women walked by, shooting him suggestive glances over their shoulders. He merely smiled politely before turning away.

Arriving back at the car, Jay pulled out his phone and saw a text from you: Feeling better now that the house is empty. How did drop off go?

He quickly typed back: Smooth as always. He's telling all his teachers about his soon-to-be little sister.

Satisfied, he started the vehicle and headed towards the precinct. His phone chimed again with your response: That's my boy! Take care at work, Jay.

He chuckled as he imagined you grinning at your phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table even though you often chided him for doing the same thing.

——

The routine didn’t shift for the next few weeks, but the gossiping mothers were surprised when Dylan was dropped off by Will one day, Jay at the hospital where you were currently resting with the newest addition to the family.

“Uncle Will, can we see Momma and Sissy after school?” Dylan asked, tugging on his uncle’s hand.

"Of course, buddy," Will replied with a soft smile, watching as Dylan's face lit up with joy. "I bet they can't wait to see you."

Once Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, Will indulged in a moment of silence. He was used to the emergency room's relentless noise and bustle, so the unfamiliar hush of the school yard in the early morning was a welcome respite. A group of mothers were huddled together, shooting glances his way. Perhaps he was becoming part of their gossip routine now too - he silently hoped otherwise.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Jay could barely tear his gaze away from you sleeping peacefully, the tiny bundle in his arms a testament to your strength and love. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight; you looked more beautiful than ever, your face radiating an exhausted but blissful glow as your daughter, their daughter, clung onto his finger with her small hand.

Just then, she stirred awake and let out a soft whimper which turned into a loud wail. He quickly got up and started to gently rock her, not wanting her cries to disturb your much-needed rest.

“Hey there, little princess,” he cooed softly as he bounced her gently in his arms. “Let’s not wake Mommy up now.”

After a few minutes of gentle rocking and hushed lullabies - Jay trying his best to remember the ones you sung to Dylan when he was an infant, the baby quieted down, blue eyes peering up at her father.

“Hi, munchkin. You already have half of Chicago’s first responders wrapped around your finger.” He whispered, soft smile at his lips as he thought back to the replies from his team when he sent the photo of the baby in the group chat.

"The other half is itching to meet you. Just wait until Uncle Will gets a hold of you. You're going to be spoiled rotten." He laughed softly, mindlessly tracing a finger over his daughter's tiny forehead.

His phone buzzed where he had left it on the bedside table. It was a message from Will letting him know that Dylan had been dropped off at school and asking if they could come by after school to see the baby.

Jay's heart swelled, even more, knowing his son was equally excited about his little sister's arrival. Jay quickly typed a response, assuring Will they would be more than happy to have visitors later in the day.

——

The day passed in a flurry of nurses checking vitals and bringing meals, phone calls from family and friends, and quiet moments spent marveling over their newest addition. Dylan was bursting with energy when Will brought him by after school, his wide eyes taking in everything with an infectious excitement that had everyone in the room smiling.

"Momma, Sissy is really small!" Dylan whispered in awe as he approached the bed, carefully peering over the edge of the bassinet.

You chuckled at his innocent observation as Jay helped him climb up onto the bed to get a better look. "Yes, she is," you agreed with a fond smile. "You were that small, too, Little Man!”

Dylan looked at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh!”

“Mhmm!” You replied, fixing his shirt as he squirmed to get another look at his sister.

“When can you and Sissy come to school?” He asked, looking at you.

Jay laughed quietly, and you looked at your husband. “Soon, Dyl.”

——

Two weeks later, you consoled the crying baby as Jay helped Dylan put his backpack on. “Can Sissy come meet Mrs. Johnson?”

Shaking your head, you carefully strapped the little girl into her carrier, softly rubbing her cheek. “Not yet. Maybe during the spring concert, but she’s still too little.”

Jay stood up and grabbed his keys. “She can help Momma and Daddy drop you off, though. That sound good?”

Dylan’s face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Everyone will get to see her!” He jumped excitedly before Jay guided him out the door.

Satisfied with your successful early morning, you carried the baby carrier to the car and buckled it in securely at the back seat. Moving around was still a little tough for you but you were slowly getting the hang of things. You climbed into the passenger side, glancing back at Dylan who was squirming in his seat with anticipation.

The drive to the school was filled with Dylan's non-stop chatter about what he was going to show his little sister. Jay had a soft smile on his face as he listened to his son, occasionally glancing at you in admiration and shared joy.

Once they arrived in front of the school, Dylan unbuckled himself and carefully opened your car door for you. “Be careful, Momma!” He cautioned, making Jay chuckle as he followed behind with his son’s backpack.

You smiled, letting Jay go ahead with Dylan so he wasn’t late, working to unstrap your daughter’s carrier so Dylan could see her one last time before he was in school.

“Jay, haven’t seen you the last few days. Is everything okay?” One of the mothers who had tried to hit on Jay asked, faux worry on her face.

Jay wore a smile as he turned to the woman, Dylan's hand tucked safely in his own as they made their way toward the school entrance. "Yeah, everything’s great, actually. My wife just gave birth to our second child," he responded casually, nodding his head towards the car where you were carefully lifting the baby carrier.

The woman blinked in surprise before offering a tight-lipped smile, "Oh, I didn’t know... congratulations."

"Thanks," Jay replied with a nod before turning his attention back to Dylan whose bundle of excitement was barely contained. As Jay opened the door for him to enter he looked into the bright eyes of his son and smiled reassuringly, "You ready?"

Dylan nodded eagerly, already tugging on his father's hand to drag him inside. Jay followed docilely, striding up the hallway towards Dylan's classroom.

Meanwhile, you were still out by the car, struggling slightly with the baby carrier that seemed to weigh even more than your now two-week-old daughter. A few mothers noticed and stepped forward to help you, their faces lighting up at the sight of the infant bundled up against the cold.

"Oh she's absolutely adorable!" One woman cooed, and you recognized her from when Jay was telling you how one of them started to wear low-cut tops after he started doing drop off duty.

You walked with them to the doors, smile brightening when you saw Jay and Dylan at the door, the young boy wanting to say goodbye to his sister.

“Bye, Sissy! Bye, Momma!” Dylan smiled, giving his sister a kiss and hugging your legs, unaware that his farewells caused the mothers who had walked with you to gasp lightly.

Jay’s smile widened at Dylan's display of affection, ruffling his son's hair gently, "Alright, champ. We’ll pick you up later. Have a great day at school."

Dylan nodded eagerly before disappearing into the bustling school building with his teacher. The remaining mothers turned to you, their surprised expressions replaced by warm, slender smiles as they admired your little girl.

Back in the car, you laughed as Jay started the ignition. “Think I felt the daggers from some of the moms when they found out you’re married.”

Jay snorted, turning back to the road to your house. “Well, that or when they found out we have great sex. Either way, watch your back, babe.”

You gawked at Jay’s remark, hitting him in the chest. “Jay! Your daughter is listening!”

“Oh, she’ll hear worse when Ruz babysits her." ------ a/n: send requests if you wanna!!

[clockwayswrites]

So far this file is called 'birdritch'. Those of you who follow my art tumblr might know where this is going. I needed something light to write, been a low day. There has been zero editing or reading through and it is past 2am, sorry and enjoy! (Don't need any typos pointed out, ty.)

---

“You are supposed to be home.”

Danny blinked up from his work to find Lucius Fox standing in the doorway of the lab. The man had the sport of expression one wore around a child who had just done something disappointing.

(Danny was used to the look, even if it had been a long time since he'd been a kid. Or seen his parents, for that mater.)

“Okay, but,” Danny started, “we agreed that I could start at ten and take my eight hours and one for lunch—”

“A mandatory one hour for lunch away from your desk,” Lucius interrupted.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been doing that! I’ve been eating out on the rooftop garden or even leaving the building and eating out or taking lunch to the park. I’ve been behaving, Lucius, I promise.”

Lucius raised a judgmental brow. “It’s after eight, Danny.”

“What? No. I have an alarm on my phone and everything… okay, well, that only works if my phone is charged.” Danny jabbed uselessly at his phone screen. He followed the charger, which was plugged in, all the way to the wall. He resisted the urge to let his head fall against the wall. “I guess Leslie fried the outlet again or something. I’m sorry, Lucius.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” Lucius said, “but only because, one, I know you have been trying, and two, I am going to buy you the most embarrassing alarm clock I can find and mount it to something in this lab. Now it is late and I am going home and so are you, Mr. Fenton.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Fox,” Danny said and made an exaggerate show of packing up his backpack, dead phone and all.

Lucius gave a little snort at the antics, but left with a ‘get home safe, Danny’. After his boss was gone, Danny took the time to actually make sure everything was in his bag and secure. He still didn’t get why he couldn’t just work late, but apparently WE had something of an insistence of work life balance. According to Lucius, Danny crossed the line too often and so was being kept in line. (Danny didn’t think mention he didn’t have much of a life, literally and otherwise, would help his case.)

Still, Danny mused as he stepped inside the empty elevator, the rules did keep him from becoming his parents. And that was a very, very good thing! Being a mad scientist in Gotham usually ended up landing someone in Arkham. It was just that after the chaos that Danny grew up with, going back to his empty apartment was depressing. It wasn’t as if Danny never got out and did things, it was just that all those things were mostly on the weekend. Most days he just didn’t have a reason to go back to his place.

There was no getting out of it tonight, the great and powerful Fox had spoken and Danny knew better than to try and sneak back up. He lifted his hands over his head, stretching as the elevator descended the last few floors. Oh well, at least it was before ten. He could still grab something on the way home and have a full, warm meal to take his pain meds on. By the pull along his forearm he would need them.

“Night, Bill,” Danny said as he passed the security guard who was on the evening shift. He got another ‘get home safe’ in response and gave a little wave in reply over his shoulder.

Even after the few years in Gotham, it still amused Danny how much everyone wished everyone else some sort of safe travels here. As much as Gotham was a city of hardened realists, there still was so much hope about it. Hope people got home safely, that the Bats would get where they were need in time, that the city would rebuild again and again and again. The undercurrent of hope was so strong that Danny could practically feel it moving through the city like a river.

It had been one of the reasons Danny had taken the job.

He could use hope.

He also had been very careful not to look too closely into it all. While Danny’s early life may have been dominated by the occult, he tried to stay away from it these days outside of the necessary visits to the Realm for his health. As much as the Far Frozen was full of ghost yetis, Frostbite was still a being of science and being there felt more like a cold vacation to his weird relatives than anything else those days.

Danny was actually worried that he was getting close to needing another visit. He shouldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t actually due back for another three months, but the thought of visiting Frostbite had been pulling at the back of Danny’s mind. The most annoying part of it all, is that there wasn’t any concrete reason that Danny felt he needed to go, just a lot of little things: the ache was deeper in his bones, he’d been missing noticing little things, his near constant vertigo was worse, and, oddest of all, he had been feeling chilled.

Maybe he should just take a long weekend and go for a quick visit.

Lucius would undoubtedly approve of the break.

Tomorrow, Danny would ask tomorrow.

(As long as he remembered.)

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Naughty or Nice?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: smut, fem!receiving

Summary: This year, you’re going to ask Santa for something only you have been able to give you thus far. Orgasms.

Square Filled: Christmas (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Normally, the mall is a place you and your friends avoid during the holiday season, but you heard that they were hosting auditions for Santa this year. Rumor has it, that someone super attractive got it. Again, you’re not one to go man-hunting at a crowded mall with children and families running everywhere, but here you are.

Your dating life hasn’t been all that great. It mostly consists of hookups and one-night stands that can never get you to orgasm. Only your pink ice cream clit vibrator has ever been able to do the job, so you’re hoping to come here and maybe meet a willing Santa to take home. Maybe if you sit on his lap and wish for orgasms, he’ll be inclined to give you one.

It’s worth a shot.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this,” your friend, Beth, says.

“What? Men who audition for Santa usually aren’t men from this town. They’re all married and they don’t want to take the joy away from their kids. Whoever it is, is from out of town, which means he can be hot, single, and eager for a hookup.”

“I thought you were done with those.”

“No, I am done with hookups from men who only think about themselves. I’ll be able to take one look at this Santa and know if he can jingle my bells if you know what I mean.”

Beth laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t think parents would allow their children to sit on a sexy man’s lap.”

“Only one way to find out. Come on.”

The area where kids are meeting Santa is already crowded with families, and the line is already three stores down from the start. When Dean heard about the Santa auditions, he put in his name when he was drunk. What harm would it do if he decided to be Santa for a night? On one hand, he can make a lot of children’s days by being Santa. On the other hand, he could meet a kid’s single mom or their sexy aunt and take them home. It’s a win-win.

“Okay, I thought you were joking before, but you’re really going to do this?” Sam asks his brother.

Dean pulls on the red coat and smirks at his brother. “Hot chicks, Sammy.”

“Kids, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “It comes with the job. Just go find something to do. This shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

“You’re relentless.”

“Dedicated, Sam,” Dean smirks.

Sam rolls his eyes and leaves the room. He decides to head back to the motel room instead of sticking around. Dean finishes getting ready and walks out with one of the mall coordinators. As soon as the kids see him, they cheer at the thought of being with Santa even for a minute. He stays true to his character and plays the best Santa he can be for the kids also while looking out for anyone single and willing to go home with him.

“Looks to me like he’s a regular guy,” Beth says to you as you inch closer to the front of the line.

“Beth, you are married so I don’t expect you to see this but I caught a glimpse of him as he was putting his costume on. I think he was carved by the Gods themselves.”

“You’re relentless,” she rolls her eyes.

“What? I am just trying to participate in Christmas traditions.”

“You don’t even have any kids.”

“I’m practicing…?”

“By asking Santa for,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “orgasms?”

“Yes.”

Beth laughs, and you get closer to the front of the line. Dean takes a picture with one of the little girls who just asked for a pony when he locks eyes with you. For just a few seconds, it’s like time has slowed down just for the two of you. Even from where you’re standing, you can see how green his eyes are.

“Next!” the mall attendant yells.

“Good luck,” Beth whispers and steps off to the side where the parents wait.

The mall attendant gives you a weird look, especially when you step up on the platform where Dean is. She doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it even though you’re getting some dirty looks from parents in line.

“Well, who do we have here? What’s your name?” Dean drawls when you sit on his lap.

“Y/N.”

“And have you been a good girl this year?”

You smirk when you hear the double meaning in his words.

“Oh, I’ve been a very bad girl.”

Dean’s eyes darken. “You know the deal. Bad girls don’t get presents.”

“Might you make an exception?”

He licks his lips, and you can’t help but watch his tongue. “I might. Depends on what you want.”

You lean in so that your mouth is close to your ear. You don’t need everyone in the mall to hear this.

“Orgasms.”

“Bad girl or not, I think I can help with that.”

“I’d hope you would,” you grin.

“Meet me after in front of Barnes and Noble.”

You forgo the picture and leave to give the kids what they came here for. Dean shifts in his seat to hide the erection you gave him. He’s not trying to scar any children or piss off any parents.

“Did you ask him?” Beth asks when you walk away from the place.

“Yes. God, he was so much more attractive up close. He was so… firm. I’m going to meet him after he’s done. Thank you for coming with me.”

“Anytime. I have to get back to Jared. He already started drinking eggnog without me.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know how it goes,” you wink.

You wait anxiously in front of Barnes and Noble until the very last child has had her turn with Santa. The more you’re by yourself, the more you psych yourself out. Was this a good idea? You don’t even know the man. He could be a murderer for all you know. Okay, maybe not that but he could have dark secrets in his closet.

Before you can convince yourself to leave, a man who you believe is Santa walks over to you wearing flannel, jeans, and a black jacket.

“So, have you decided if you want to be naughty or nice?”

“Whichever is more fun,” you grin.

“Naughty it is.” He holds his hand out and you take it. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N, but you already know that.”

He even has a hot car. Once you see the shiny black Impala, you decide you’re going to milk Dean for everything he’s got before he leaves. He might very well be the best one-night stand you’ll ever have.

Dean takes you back to his motel room where Sam is reading a lore book. He looks up when the door opens, and he shakes his head when he sees his brother isn’t alone.

“Out, Sammy.”

“Dude.”

“Would you rather watch me fuck her?”

“That’s something I’m not opposed to if you’re into that sort of thing,” you say.

“No, thanks,” Sam pouts. “I’m going to get a room far from yours.”

As soon as Sam leaves, Dean pulls you into him and presses light kisses down your neck.

“So, are you going to unwrap me?”

“Damn right, I am, and I’m going to take all night to do it.” Dean lays you down on the bed and runs his hands down your legs. “Are you wet for me?”

“Undress me and find out.”

Dean practically rips your clothes away, and you don’t even think about needing them tomorrow at the moment. All you want right now is his mouth and fingers on you. Dean cups your pussy and runs two fingers through your slit to confirm that yes, you are wet and ready for him. He falls to his knees and you spread your legs open wide for him.

He grips your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed before burying his face between your legs. Some of the men you’ve been with hated going down on you, so you haven’t had a man down there in a while. Just the simple act of Dean sliding his tongue through your folds is enough to bring a squeal out of you.

“Fuck, Dean, that feels so good,” you moan and grab his hair.

“Good. I’m not stopping until you’re dripping down my chin.”

Dean massaged your clit with his tongue before sliding down to your entrance. He tongues you rapidly while rubbing your clit with his thumb. You can’t come unless your clit is stimulated, but you honestly think Dean could just lick you and you’d explode for him. Maybe you’ll test that theory later tonight when you go for another round. Dean is the kind of man you go multiple rounds with.

“Shit, Dean, that feels so good. I’m gonna come.”

“Come all over my face.”

You don’t wait another second before exploding around his tongue, and he laps up every drop you’re giving him.

“God, you taste like Heaven,” Dean moans.

He kisses your clit once before standing up. You stand and kiss him even though you can taste yourself on his lips. You undress him until you’re both naked, and he turns you so that you’re facing the bed. He gently pushes down on your back until you’re on your hands and knees, and he grips your hips and tugs you hard enough for you to lose your balance. You fall face first on the bed with your ass in the air, just how he wants you.

He grabs the base of his cock and squeezes to prevent his release from coming too soon. He pumps twice before sliding the head of his cock between your pussy lips.

“Dean, skip the formalities. Please, fuck me.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He grabs both sides of your hips and slides into your pussy slowly so that you can feel every inch. You gasp from the stretch but he doesn’t stop until you’re completely full of him. You grip the sheets and push back into him as much as you can from your position. Dean pulls out only to slam back in, and you can’t help the loud moan from coming out.

“Fuck, Y/N, how are you so tight?”

“You feel so good, Dean,” you moan.

Thankfully Sam isn’t next door or else he’d hear the sound of skin slapping against skin and your beautiful moans.

“Rub your clit for me, baby. Get yourself closer to the edge. I want to come with you.”

You reach down and rub your clit in fast hard circles. It’s been so long that you’re approaching the edge faster than you’d thought you would.

“Fuck, Dean, I’m close again.”

“Come all over my cock.”

You do as he says and explode all around him. You squeeze his cock several times which brings Dean over the edge. He slows his thrusting to ride out both of your highs until neither of you can give anything more. He pulls out of you and falls onto the bed next to you.

“I hope you’ve got more than one round in you.”

He smirks. “Baby, I can go all night.”

You love Christmas time.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[gotham-daydreams]

Hello!! I love your batfam series, rereading chap 2 got me thinking: Imagine Christmas

Reader is a child, they're so excited for Christmas, perhaps her new family forgot about her birthday because she's new to the manor, but no one forgets Christmas! Maybe this is the chance to spend time with their whole family! Reader takes the time to make little Christmas cards for everyone, each with her own wishes for them like:

"I hope this year, you get that [insert what the character is interested in here] you've always wanted!" and they add sweet little notes and doodles too.

It's Christmas eve, reader goes to where the tree and presents are, they want to put the cards on the mantle, or maybe the table? just somewhere where everyone can see them.

Reader passes the gifts and they get curious and excited.

'I wonder which one's mine?' their eyes get all sparkly and their smile widens, they place the cards on the table and head to the gifts, they read each tag.

"Dick, Jason, Tim, Dick, Alfred, Bruce, Bruce..." But no [Y/N]... No, that can't be true right? Everyone gets a present on Christmas, all the kids on the nice list gets a present, and [Y/N] made sure that they were nice all year, I mean, look at all they've done for their family! As tears well up in their eyes, a choked sob escapes [Y/N].

The door creaks open, "Master Y/N? What are you doing here so late?" Alfred asks.

"*hic* Christmas *hic* cards..." Alfred is alerted by the child's crying.

"Now, Master Y/N, why are you crying? Are you hurt?"

"Alfred...*hic* I was nice all year, right?" Alfred nods at this. "Then...why didn't I get a present?" Reader looks up at Alfred with those sad eyes, all hurt and desperate for an answer.

Alfred thinks for a moment and in an attempt to comfort the child, "Master Y/N, your gift isn't here because it's coming tomorrow, it's a very special gift, so it took some time to come here."

Reader calms down at this and asks, "Really?"

"Yes, Master Y/N, now, we must get you to bed, it's quite late, off you go now." Alfred leads them to their room and as Reader bids Alfred goodnight, Alfred is thinking of what he can order for Reader that would make them happy and that could be delivered immediately tomorrow.

please forgive me that it is very long hehe, it's my first time sending an ask ❤️

thank you for the batfam series tho 😊

I'm honored to have your first ask be sent to me! And I also apologize for the horrendous delay 😅

Don't worry about the length, I love long asks and your writing is amazing! I can definitely see that happening in the story, and can even imagine more of it!

Like imagine the family going back to look at the cards, and never really questioning where they came from or who wrote them until recently? Like, they sort of all had an assumption of who it was or could be, and didn't bother to really look into it until, well, all that happens takes place.

Imagine the reader had their letters sent to Dick, and tried to leave them by the window in the kitchen or hall for Jason. How they would sneak into Bruce's study to leave the note right on top of all the work he had left to do, and slipped a little envelope or note under Tim's door. They've tried to give it to Damian in person, but maybe got all nervous and just attached it to Titus' collar instead. Of course, Alfred always gets his handed to him or put into a little nook in the kitchen wall that only both of them know about. With Barbara's getting hers in the mail or rested upon a counter top, Cassandra's by a little side table next to her room, and Stephanie's close to the front door.

Imagine little reader trying to come up with new locations and areas every year, and trying to be more positive in their letters and also make them more meaningful - but just find it hard. It's hard to make something mean anything when you barely know the person your giving it too aside from exchanges that don't go past greetings and so on, but the reader tries as much as they can. Until that, like with all the things they tried to do, eventually stops as well - but maybe in a fit of self loathing. With them finding their own letters to be annoying, and the gifts they try to give obnoxious or meanings.

It drives them up the wall so much they eventually can't take it, and come apart. Hell, maybe they still continued the little 'tradition' but stuck to the little notes and letters. Now having grown used to getting no reply in return.

I know on that first night, Alfred most likely, personally tries to search for something before going out and getting it himself if he can. At least personally, I'd imagine it's a music box and it sort of serves as one of the inspirations that the reader has for even trying out music. Especially when it's the first thing they see when they get up the next day, and the soft melody is the first thing they hear.

It could have a larger effect from there, having been the reason the reader starts out doing school plays and so on - since it has two people dancing as the lullaby plays - before the reader eventually falls in love with music.

Ah! But that's just my own interpretation, and again, thanks so much for sharing! I'm so sorry about the delay, and not noticing this ask sooner! I love the idea, and can definitely see something like that happening in the series :]

[logansdoll]

Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again

sunflower

part three of "37"

CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.

"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."

Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.

He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...

"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."

"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."

Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.

"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.

Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.

"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."

But Logan didn't buy it.

Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.

Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.

And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.

It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.

Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.

A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.

Your tears of joy when he proposed.

Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.

Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.

He missed it all.

And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.

"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."

His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.

"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."

The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.

He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.

'Let's hope he survives...'

"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."

Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.

"Now... try not to move."

Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.

He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.

"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.

"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."

"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.

"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.

You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"

He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."

Yes...

"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."

"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."

"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.

It's all coming back...

"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."

His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"

Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.

His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.

"You're... pregnant?"

You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.

But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."

Wait...

"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"

"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."

With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.

Pop!

Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.

You dislocated his finger.

Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.

"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.

Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.

In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.

And she wasn't even a minute old yet.

I have—

"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.

Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.

'James...'

Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.

She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.

Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.

"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.

"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.

'Laura...'

The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..

Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...

Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.

"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.

Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.

"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."

Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.

Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.

Every birthday.

Every boo-boo.

Every first.

Slowly but surely, they were all returning.

Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.

"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.

He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.

After all this time, your husband was truly whole.

Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.

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