#like okay let me continue to live in fear of what the expectations are

[achingly-shy]

i fear some of my professors need to get their canvas pages published. it's not like our first day of class is....tomorrow

[aceyalonso]

mark me yours - OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing : oscar piastri x gf!reader

summary : biting has weirdly always been a part of y/n's love language, what happens when she bites oscar where he's a little bit more than just sensitive?

warnings/notes : swearing, smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), sub!oscar, creampie, biting, marking kink, hickies, oral (m!receiving), edging, handjob, praise kink,degrading kink, name calling, begging, humiliation kink, cum play, multiple orgasms, slight dacryphilia, use of "good boy"

word count : 3.0k

a/n : i have a thing for submissive men i fear (this is so self indulgent)

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Y/n and Oscar were playfighting on the living room floor, laughing and giggling as they tumbled around. Suddenly, Y/n leaned in and planted a small, innocent bite on Oscar's neck. However, she had unknowingly found a sensitive spot, causing him to let out a sharp gasp.

Startled by his reaction, Y/n pulled back, her eyes wide with concern. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

Oscar, still reeling from the unexpected sensation, couldn't help but let out a soft moan. "Yeah, I'm fine," he managed to say, his voice slightly strained. "It just felt really intense for a moment there."

Y/n bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Really? Well, maybe we should explore that a little more," she suggested, leaning in once again.

She grinned, enjoying the effect she was having on Oscar. She continued to suck and nibble on his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive spot with each bite. Oscar's breathing grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a whimper as she bit down harder.

"Jesus fuck, are you a vampire or something?" he gasped, trying to mask the pleasure he was feeling. His body trembled slightly, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

Y/n chuckled, her hot breath tickling his skin. "Maybe I am," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Or maybe you're just sensitive."

She continued her assault on his neck, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites. Each time she found that sensitive spot, Oscar couldn't help but moan, his body responding to her touch in ways he hadn't expected.

Y/n's fingers deftly worked at the hem of Oscar's hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. She tossed it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. Her eyes roamed over his body, taking in every inch of exposed skin.

"Mmm, look at you," she purred, her hands trailing down his chest. "So strong and sexy."

Oscar shivered at her touch, his muscles tensing as her fingers explored his body. He couldn't believe how turned on he was getting from something so simple.

Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "I wonder what other sensitive spots I can find on you," she whispered, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

Her hands continued their exploration, moving lower and lower until they reached the waistband of his jeans. With a swift motion, she unbuttoned them and slid her hand inside, palming his growing erection through his boxers.

Y/n guided Oscar to the couch, her hands firmly grasping his hips. Once he was seated, she knelt down in front of him, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers. Slowly, she pulled them down, revealing his hard, throbbing member.

"Oh, looks like someone's excited," she teased, her eyes locked onto his manhood. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, giving it a few gentle strokes.

Oscar let out a low groan, his head falling back against the couch cushions. He couldn't believe how good her touch felt, and he was already aching for more.

Y/n leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. She swirled her tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum that had gathered there. Then, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft as she began to bob her head up and down.

Oscar's moans and whines grew louder as Y/n's skilled mouth worked on his throbbing member. She pulled away for a moment, leaving him panting and desperate for more.

"Look at you, so needy and desperate," she taunted, her hand continuing to stroke his shaft. "You're like a bitch in heat, aren't you?"

Oscar couldn't even form a coherent response, his mind clouded with lust and desire. He could only nod and whimper, his hips bucking into her hand as she continued to tease him.

Y/n smirked, enjoying the power she held over him. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Beg for me to take you back into my mouth."

Oscar's heart raced at her words, his body trembling with anticipation. "Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need you. I need your mouth on me."

Y/n's hand slowed to a torturous pace, her fingers barely grazing Oscar's sensitive skin. She could feel him squirming beneath her touch, his desperation growing with each passing second.

"Please, Y/n," he begged, his voice cracking with need. "I can't take it anymore. I need you so badly."

She chuckled, her breath hot against his skin. "What was that? I didn't quite catch that."

Oscar's hips bucked upwards, seeking more friction. "Please, I'm begging you. Take me into your mouth again. I need to feel your lips around me. I'll do anything, just please don't stop."

Y/n's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at his desperate pleas. She loved seeing him so worked up, so completely at her mercy. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to tease the tip of his cock.

"Since you asked so nicely," she purred, before taking him back into her mouth, her lips sealing around his shaft as she began to bob her head once more.

As Y/n's lips and tongue worked their magic, Oscar couldn't hold back the loud, slutty moans that escaped his lips. The sound of his own voice, so desperate and needy, only served to heighten his arousal.

Y/n smiled against his cock, feeling it twitch in response to his moans. She planted soft kisses along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, her lips trailing up and down its length.

Oscar covered his face with his hands, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through his body. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he got closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Y/n," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna cum. Oh god, you're gonna make me cum."

Y/n picked up the pace, her mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him to the brink. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, his body tensing as he prepared for his release.

Oscar's whines and moans grew louder and more desperate as Y/n's mouth and hand worked tirelessly on his throbbing cock. His body trembled with each stroke of her tongue, his hips bucking upwards as he sought more friction.

"Oh god, Y/n," he panted, his voice hoarse with pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close, I can feel it."

Y/n could sense his impending orgasm, and she doubled her efforts, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him over the edge. She could feel his cock pulsing against her tongue, his body tensing as he neared his climax.

As Oscar's orgasm hit, Y/n felt his cock pulse and twitch in her mouth. She continued to suck and stroke him through his climax, her cheeks hollowing as she worked to milk every last drop of his cum.

When he finally finished, she pulled back, his spent member slipping from her lips. She held his gaze as she opened her mouth, revealing the thick, creamy load she had collected.

Slowly, she straddled his thighs, leaning in to press her lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss. As their tongues met, she allowed some of his cum to transfer into his mouth, forcing him to taste himself.

Oscar moaned into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip her hips. He could taste his own essence on her tongue, the flavor both strange and arousing. He knew he should feel embarrassed, but all he could focus on was the intense pleasure coursing through his veins.

As their tongues continued to dance, Oscar's hands shook as he gripped Y/n's waist. He could feel the heat of her body pressing against his, and he craved more.

"Take your clothes off," he whispered against her lips, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you, all of you."

Y/n smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She sat back, slowly peeling off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts, clad in a lacy black bra. Oscar's eyes widened, his mouth watering at the sight.

She unhooked her bra, letting it fall away to expose her bare chest. Her nipples were hard and erect, begging for attention. Oscar reached up, his fingers grazing her sensitive peaks, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips.

Y/n then stood up, shimmying out of her jeans and panties in one fluid motion. She kicked them aside, leaving her completely naked before him. Oscar drank in the sight of her, his cock already beginning to stir once more.

Y/n straddled Oscar's thighs once more, her naked body pressing against his. She captured his lips in a searing kiss, her hands roaming over his chest and abs.

"You're such a good boy," she purred between kisses, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "So obedient and eager to please."

She nipped at his bottom lip, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. "But you're also such a dirty slut, aren't you? Begging for my touch, craving my attention like a desperate whore."

Oscar moaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upwards to meet her. He couldn't deny the truth in her words; he was completely under her spell, willing to do anything for her touch.

Y/n's hand trailed down his stomach, her fingers wrapping around his hardening cock. She stroked him slowly, teasingly, her thumb swirling around the tip.

Y/n's hand moved in slow, torturous strokes along Oscar's shaft, her grip firm but not too tight. She could feel him throbbing in her palm, his body trembling with each movement of her hand.

"Shh, it's okay," she cooed, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're doing so well, being such a good boy for me."

Oscar whimpered, his hips bucking upwards in search of more friction. He wanted to beg her for more, to plead with her to let him cum, but he knew better than to disobey her.

"If you're patient and keep being a good boy," she promised, her voice low and seductive, "I'll let you cum soon. Just keep trusting me, and I'll give you everything you need."

She continued her slow, agonizing handjob, her thumb teasing the sensitive head of his cock. Oscar's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving with each labored breath. He could feel the pressure building inside him, his orgasm hovering just out of reach.

Y/n's hand remained steady, maintaining the slow, torturous pace that was driving Oscar wild with need. As she watched him squirm beneath her touch, she noticed the tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

"Aww, look at you," she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Are those tears I see? Good boys don't cry, you know."

Oscar bit his lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. He knew she was right, and he didn't want to disappoint her. But the pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming, that he could barely think straight.

"That's it, be a good boy," she encouraged, her hand never faltering in its rhythm. "Keep fighting those tears, and I might just reward you for your efforts."

Oscar nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on controlling his emotions. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure inside him reaching a fever pitch. He just needed to hold on a little longer, to prove to her that he was worthy of her praise.

As Oscar's moans grew louder and more desperate, Y/n could sense his impending orgasm. She increased the speed of her strokes, her hand flying over his shaft in a blur of motion.

Just as he was about to reach his peak, she abruptly released his cock, her hand pulling away entirely. Oscar's eyes snapped open, his mouth falling agape in shock and disbelief.

"No!" he cried out, his voice cracking with desperation. "No, please don't stop. I was so close, please..."

He reached for her hand, trying to guide it back to his aching member, but she swatted his hand away. She smirked down at him, her eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.

Y/n's eyes locked with Oscar's as she grasped his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Slowly, teasingly, she lowered herself onto him, her wet heat enveloping his throbbing member inch by delicious inch.

Oscar gasped at the sensation, his hands flying to her hips as he fought the urge to thrust upwards. She felt incredible, her walls hugging his cock like a velvet glove.

Once she was fully seated, Y/n paused, savoring the feeling of being so perfectly filled. She rolled her hips, grinding against him in a slow, sensual rhythm.

"Mmm, you feel so good inside me," she purred, her nails digging into his chest. "I could stay like this forever, just feeling you stretch me open."

Oscar moaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. He couldn't believe the torture she was putting him through, the way she was teasing him with her body. He wanted to pound into her, to claim her as his own, but he knew better than to disobey her commands.

Y/n began to ride him in earnest, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She leaned forward, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck as she left a trail of bites and hickies in her wake.

Oscar groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushions as he surrendered to the pleasure. Each bite sent a jolt of electricity through his body, heightening his senses and making every thrust feel even more intense.

Y/n's nails raked down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, could sense his impending release. But she wasn't ready for it to end yet.

With a wicked grin, she climbed off of him, leaving him empty and aching. She turned around, presenting her ass to him as she bent over the arm of the couch.

"Come and get it," she challenged, looking back at him over her shoulder. "Show me how much you want me."

Oscar's eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight before him. Y/n's perfect ass was on display, her pussy glistening with their combined juices. Without hesitation, he moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance.

With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside her once more, groaning at the exquisite feeling of her tight heat enveloping him. He set a brutal pace, pounding into her with abandon as he chased his release.

Y/n cried out, her fingers gripping the couch cushions tightly as she pushed back against him. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with their moans and grunts of pleasure.

"Yes, just like that," she panted, her voice strained with ecstasy. "Fuck me harder, make me yours."

Oscar obliged, his hips snapping forward with each powerful thrust. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he neared the edge. But he held back, determined to make her cum first.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more urgent as Oscar continued to pound into her. She could feel her own orgasm approaching, her body tensing as the waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Please, let me cum inside you," Oscar begged, his voice raw with desperation. "I've been such a good boy, I promise. I just need to feel you, all of you."

Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy. She could feel Oscar's cock throbbing inside her, his movements becoming more erratic as he struggled to hold back his own release.

"Cum with me," she demanded, her voice a husky whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside of me."

As their orgasms crashed over them, Oscar sank his teeth into Y/n's neck, muffling his own moans of pleasure. The sensation of his teeth breaking her skin sent a fresh wave of ecstasy through her body, and she cried out in response.

Their bodies convulsed in unison, their fluids mixing as they rode out the intense waves of their shared climax. Oscar's hips continued to thrust, drawing out their pleasure for as long as possible.

Finally, they collapsed together on the couch, their bodies entwined and slick with sweat. Oscar's teeth released her neck, and he nuzzled into her hair, his breathing ragged and uneven.

As the aftershocks of their intense orgasms subsided, Oscar began to mutter words of gratitude and appreciation. His voice was hoarse and raw, filled with emotion.

"Holy shit, that was incredible," he breathed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Y/n's skin. "Thank you so much, you're amazing."

Y/n smiled, turning her head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're welcome," she murmured against his mouth. "And you did so well, being such a good boy for me."

She pulled away from the kiss, a playful smirk on her face. "Why did you bite me?" she asked, her fingers gently probing the spot where his teeth had broken her skin.

Oscar looked sheepish, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself," he confessed. "It was like my body took control, and I needed to do something to keep from screaming."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, if you're going to point out the bite on your neck, you should probably take a look at mine," he teased, tilting his head to the side.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the sight of his neck, covered in a patchwork of bites and hickies. Some were still red and angry, while others had begun to bruise.

"Wow, I really went to town on you, didn't I?" she laughed, her fingers tracing the marks on his skin. "You're lucky you're so cute, or else you'd have some explaining to do."

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[cumironi]

SILLY LITTLE NIGHTMARES: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

you are having a nightmare about your boyfriend, geto, became a curse user and is a mass murderer, so you spend your day following him around like a puppy.

warning. established relationship! satosugu, murder mentioned.

geto finishes the last bit of paperwork, the soft sound of his pen clicking shut echoing in the living room. he leans back in his chair, stretching out his arms and letting out a content sigh, satisfied to finally have some time to relax. gojo is busy tidying up the room from the mess he just made, adjusting the pillows on the couch and fluffing the throw blankets, occasionally shooting playful glances at geto.

just then, you walk into the room, your eyes still puffy and red from a restless nap. the moment they see you, both of them pause, sensing something is off. tears stream down your cheeks as you try to wipe them away, but they only seem to flow more freely.

geto’s heart drops as he immediately stands up, worry etched on his face. “hey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly, taking a step closer to you. he can feel a wave of concern wash over him, instinctively wanting to protect you from whatever is troubling you.

you blink up at him, your voice shaking as you manage to speak. “i… i just had a bad dream,” you say, your words barely above a whisper, the weight of fear still clinging to you.

you walk closer to geto, feeling the weight of your lingering emotions pressing down on you. without a second thought, you straddle him, sitting on his lap as you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. your body shakes with quiet sobs, and the warmth of his presence envelops you like a comforting blanket.

geto’s initial alarm quickly melts away as he sees your vulnerable state. he instantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer until your body is pressed flush against him. a part of him is glad that it was just a dream, but he hates seeing you in such distress.

geto runs his hand gently over your hair, his touch soothing and tender. “ssh, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” he whispers, his voice gentle. gojo’s eyes dart between the two of you, a subtle frown creasing his forehead, as he pauses his tidying to watch the scene unfolding.

gojo crosses his arms, his eyes flickering with a hint of concern, but he remains silent, letting geto take the lead. he leans against the back of the couch, watching the two of you intently.

geto continues to hold you close, his hand caressing your back in slow, circular motions. “do you want to talk about it?” he gently inquires, his voice low and steady. he isn’t particularly fond of hearing about nightmares, but he wouldn't hesitate to listen if it meant offering you some sort of comfort.

you take a deep breath, trying to gather the words through your sobs as you cling to geto. his warmth and steady presence help, but the lingering fear from the dream makes your chest tighten. “it was horrible,” you manage, your voice shaky. “i dreamt that you… you became a curse user… and…” your voice breaks, tears streaming down your cheeks as you press your face into his shoulder.

geto stiffens slightly, his grip on you tightening. despite the calm expression he usually wears, you can feel the tension in his body at your words. he’s quiet for a moment, letting you continue when you’re ready.

“you…” you take another shaky breath, the words harder to say than you expected. “you killed people… so many… and then you left me and satoru behind. you just… disappeared.” fresh tears fall as the vividness of the nightmare overwhelms you again, the image of geto turning away from you playing over and over in your mind.

geto’s heart sinks deeper as he listens to your tremulous voice and imagines the nightmare you endured. his arms unconsciously tighten around you, as if he could shield you from the horrors of the dream world.

he bites down on the inside of his cheek, frustration and helplessness welling up inside of him. he hates the thought of ever causing you such pain, especially by abandoning you and gojo. it's an outcome he could never even fathom.

he lets out a slow breath, trying to maintain his composure as he replies, “i would never do that.” his tone is firm, almost urgent, as if he’s trying to convince you as much as himself.

“i’m not going anywhere, okay?” he murmurs, his hand reaching up to gently stroke your hair.

gojo watches quietly from his spot on the couch, his eyes flickering to geto. he can sense the mix of irritation and helplessness that geto is feeling, both at the idea of being the source of your pain and his inability to ease your distress.

geto’s mind races, trying to find the right words to say. he knows that just saying he wouldn’t do that isn’t enough to erase the emotional scars from the nightmare. “i’m right here,” he repeats, his voice softer now as he presses his lips against the top of your head. “i’m not going to leave you… i promise.”

you continue to cry softly, your breaths shaky as the remnants of the nightmare still cling to you. geto’s words bring some comfort, but the fear lingers, and you can’t stop the tears from falling. he holds you close, feeling the weight of your pain, and his heart aches to see you like this.

he gently pulls your face away from his shoulder, his large hands cupping your wet cheeks with care. his thumbs brush against your skin, wiping away the tears that stream down your face. his dark eyes are filled with concern and love as he gazes into yours. “look at me,” he whispers, his voice steady but tender. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere. i promise.”

your lower lip quivers as you meet his gaze, still feeling the sting of the dream. “it felt so real, suguru,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i lost you.”

geto’s heart clenches at your words, the fear and pain in your voice like a dagger stabbing through his chest. he hates the thought of you feeling even a second of uncertainty or doubt.

he keeps his hands on your face, his gaze never waivering from yours, as he replies, “it was just a nightmare, okay? i’ll always be here with you. i swear.” he slowly leans in, gently pressing his lips against your forehead, as if to kiss away your fears and worries.

geto draws back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “i won’t let anything happen to you, and i’m damn sure i won’t ever leave you.” he repeats, his voice low and firm. “i promise.”

he holds your gaze for a moment, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your jawline, before looking over to gojo, who’s quietly watching from the side. gojo gives him a small nod, a mix of worry and support in his eyes.

geto’s hands slowly move from your cheeks to the back of your head, his fingers weaving through your hair in a soothing gesture. he holds you closer still, as if he’s trying to shield you from the world and all its horrors.

gojo silently observes the two of you from the couch, his usual smirk replaced with a serious expression. he can see the pain and worry etched on geto’s face, and he can sense the turmoil in your heart. he knows how tightly the two of you are bound together, and it pains him to see you both suffering from a mere dream.

“i won’t ever let that happen, baby, he didn’t even get a chance to think about living us before i smack some sense into his head, do you hear me?” gojo softly asks, hoping his words get through your pretty little head and the amidst cloud of nightmare.

geto shoots gojo a grateful glance, appreciating the reassurance and support. he knows that your mind being eased by both of them helps a lot more than just his word alone.

he focuses his attention on you, his hands still gently cradling your head. he can feel the tension slowly start to ease from your trembling body, and that small sign of improvement gives him some relief. “hey,” he murmurs, shifting to pull you even closer, until your face is buried into his neck. “you’re safe, you’re okay.”

you feel geto’s fingers gently combing through your hair, the repetitive motion soothing your nerves little by little. his arms wrap around you more tightly, his body shielding you from everything, just as you needed in this moment. the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours helps you regain some composure, though the lingering fear still weighs on your mind.

gojo’s voice reaches you, soft but firm, and you lift your head slightly to glance over at him. his words bring a sense of reassurance, his usual playful energy now replaced with sincerity. the thought of him smacking some sense into geto if he ever tried to leave brings a small, albeit shaky, smile to your face. you know he’s trying to lighten the mood, but there's also a seriousness in his tone that makes you feel safe.

“okay..” you manage to whisper, your voice still trembling but less fragile than before. you nod slowly, taking in a deep breath as you try to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. the nightmare is fading now, replaced by the warmth of their presence. with each inhale, you feel the fear dissipating, and with each exhale, you focus on the reality that you're here, with them.

“i know it was just a dream,” you murmur, your voice gaining a little more strength. “it’s just… it felt so real.” your fingers clutch the fabric of geto’s shirt, grounding yourself in the moment. “i just can’t stop thinking about it and it makes me upset.”

geto listens to your words quietly, his hand continuing to stroke through your hair, grounding you back to reality. he hates how your mind is still stuck on the nightmare, the fear and anxiety clinging to you like a shadow. he runs his fingers through your hair again, trying to soothe you further. “i know, i know. it’s okay. nightmares can feel so real sometimes.”

he pauses, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “i wish i could take the memories of that dream away from you, but all i can do for now is tell you that it wasn't real. i'm right here, and i'm not going anywhere.”

he tightens his grip on you ever so slightly, his voice soft as he replies, “you’re safe. i’m here. it was just a dream,” he repeats, his words a soothing mantra, as if trying to imprint them onto your heart. he turns his attention to gojo, silently asking him with a look to add some comfort as well.

gojo pushes himself off the couch and walks over to the two of you. he crouches down in front of you, his cerulean eyes meeting your tear-filled eyes gently. his hand reaches out for yours, taking it in a firm yet compassionate grip.

he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his voice low and comforting as he speaks. “i don’t know what you saw in that nightmare, but suguru’s right. you’re safe and sound right now, in the real world. it was just a product of your imagination, nothing more.”

gojo continues, his voice soothing as he tries to erase the remnants of your nightmare from your mind. “and i know, it’s hard to shake off the fear and anxiety after waking up from a nightmare, but it wasn’t real. it’s okay to feel shaken, but i promise you, nothing in that nightmare is going to come true. geto and i are here with you, always will be, and we’ll do anything to keep you safe, okay?”

you look into gojo’s cerulean eyes as he speaks, his words washing over you like a calming wave. his hand in yours feels warm and steady, grounding you in the present, reminding you that you’re no longer trapped in the nightmare. his voice is soothing, full of reassurance, and it helps ease the tension in your chest.

you take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs and then slowly release it. the trembling in your hands begins to subside as you listen to him, the fear starting to melt away with each word. “okay,” you whisper, your voice soft but more steady than before. you give him a small nod, trusting in both him and geto to keep you safe, knowing they would never let anything happen to you.

gojo gives you a small, comforting smile, squeezing your hand once more before letting go. “that's my girl,” he says softly, his usual playful tone creeping back in, just enough to bring you a sense of normalcy.

you lean back into geto’s embrace, feeling the weight of your fear finally lifting. their presence, their words, their love—it all grounds you in this moment, and you know, deep down, that you’re safe. “thank you,” you murmur again, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for both of them. you close your eyes briefly, taking another deep breath, this one much calmer than before.

geto holds you tightly, his hand still in your hair, and gojo rests a hand on your shoulder, the both of them ensuring you feel surrounded by warmth, love, and protection. “we’ve got you,” geto whispers against your hair, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

once both he and gojo are satisfied that you’re slowly coming down from the nightmare, geto leans back against the couch, pulling you with him until you’re snuggled against his chest. he keeps his arm wrapped around you, holding you close, as if he’s trying to shield you from any remaining shadows of the nightmare.

gojo returns to his spot on the couch, collapsing onto the cushion, but his eyes remain on you, watching intently to make sure you’re truly okay.

geto continues to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and comforting as he looks down at you. he feels the tension in your body slowly dissipating, the fear and anxiety fading away little by little. “try to get some more sleep, okay? you need to rest. one bad dream shouldn’t dictate your whole day.” he says quietly, his voice low.

you shake your head gently, pressing closer to geto, the thought of going back to sleep still unsettling. “i don’t want to sleep,” you murmur, your voice soft but firm. the fear of falling back into another nightmare lingers, making the idea of rest feel impossible.

geto’s hand stills for a moment, and he glances down at you with concern, his brows knitting together. “you’ve been burning out from work, you’re tired,” he says softly, “you need rest.”

but you just shake your head again, clinging to the warmth of his embrace. “i don’t want to go through that again,” you whisper, the vulnerability in your voice evident. “not right now.”

geto's grip on you tightens as he hears the vulnerability in your voice. he understands your fear of reliving the nightmare, but he also knows that avoiding rest will worsen it. he bites his lip, trying to think of what to say to ease your fears.

he looks over to gojo for assistance. gojo, who’s been quietly observing the two of you, sits up a little straighter, his expression becoming serious again. “alright, we’ll stay with you. we’re not going anywhere. you don’t have to go back to sleep, but you can just rest here with us then, okay?”

you nod softly in response, your body beginning to relax just a little more in geto’s arms. the reassurance from both of them is enough to help you feel safe, even if the thought of sleeping still scares you. you hum softly in acknowledgment, closing your eyes for a brief moment as you feel gojo’s presence near.

gojo leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a second, offering comfort through the simple touch. the warmth from his kiss spreads through you, easing the last remnants of fear.

“okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but full of trust. you lean back into geto’s embrace, feeling the strength and safety in his hold, while gojo’s calming presence at your side brings you peace.

geto squeezes you tighter, wrapping his arm around you securely as you lean into him. his chin rests on the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. the sight of gojo pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead makes his heart ache, knowing how scared you were moments ago.

gojo keeps his eyes on you, watching your breath even out little by little, and the anxiety slowly leaving your body. he reaches out to take your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, providing a subtle reassurance.

“we’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and gentle.

after crying your heart out from the nightmare that had shaken you to your core, you spent the rest of the day trailing geto wherever he went, almost as if you couldn’t bear to let him out of your sight. the nightmare, though just a figment of your imagination, had left a heavy weight in your chest, one that only seemed to lighten when you were close to him.

now, you, geto, and gojo are sitting on the couch, the soft hum of the tv in the background as you lean against gojo’s chest. his arm is draped around you lazily, while geto sits at the other end, relaxed but aware of your every movement. the comfort of being sandwiched between the two of them has kept the lingering unease at bay for most of the day.

suddenly, you feel geto shift beside you, and when he begins to stand, your body tenses up. you sit upright quickly, eyes wide with concern as you look at him. “where are you going?” you ask, your voice betraying the anxiety that still lingers from the nightmare.

your voice laced with a quiet urgency, unable to mask the worry that creeps back into your tone. the idea of him leaving your sight, even for just a moment, stirs up the unease from earlier.

geto stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a gentle smile, one that’s meant to reassure you. “just going to the bathroom,” he says softly, his tone calm and understanding. “i’ll be right back, i promise.”

gojo tightens his arm around you slightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “he’s not running off, baby,” gojo teases lightly, though there’s a hint of concern in his voice as he looks down at you. “besides, if he takes too long, i’ll drag him back for you.” despite gojo’s playful tone, your eyes stay on geto, still uneasy. but you nod slowly, watching him as he disappears down the hall.

once geto is in the bathroom and out of earshot, gojo drops the teasing tone and turns his attention fully to you. he studies your face silently for a moment, taking in the unease that still clings to you. he can see the way your eyes follow geto’s every move when he’s around, the anxiety etched onto your features whenever he leaves your sight.

he sighs softly, his hand continuing to rub circles on your back in a calm, comforting motion. “you're still rattled from that nightmare, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.

you turn to gojo, shaking your head lightly as if trying to convince both him and yourself. “i’m not,” you murmur, your voice soft but unconvincing. though you rest your head back against his chest, the tension in your body hasn’t fully disappeared. despite your denial, your eyes still flicker toward the bathroom door every few moments, watching, waiting.

gojo can easily tell that you're lying, and he lets out a quiet exhale as he continues to rub circles on your back. “you are,” he counters softly, his voice free from any playful tone, no hint of teasing at all. “we both know you are, and there’s no shame in it.”

he glances at the bathroom door and then back at you. “you’re on edge every time he leaves the room, and you’ve been like this all day.”

gojo pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how to address your uneasiness. you keep your head on his chest, avoiding his gaze, clearly still trying to convince yourself that you're okay. but he can feel the tension in your body, the way you're silently clenching and unclenching your fists.

he runs his hand through your hair gently, brushing a strand of it behind your ear. gojo’s lips twitch in a small, knowing smile, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. he can see through your weak attempt at convincing him that you're not still affected by the nightmare.

he wraps his arm around you tighter, pulling you closer against his chest. “you know, getting another nightmare is pretty unlikely. the chances are very low,” he says, trying to alleviate your fears.

you shake your head slightly against gojo’s chest, your voice barely a whisper as you reply, “i still can’t forget about it.” the unease in your tone is unmistakable, and the way your fists clench unconsciously gives away how much the nightmare still lingers in your mind.

despite his comforting presence and logical reassurance, the images from the nightmare are too vivid, too real to easily brush aside. “it’s terrible..” you admit softly, your eyes once again darting toward the bathroom door, waiting for geto to return, as if his presence alone can chase away the remnants of the dream.

gojo looks down at you, a pang of sympathy and concern in his eyes. he sees the way you're still on edge, your fists clenching and unclenching, your eyes darting to the bathroom door. he knows this is more than just a bad dream, it’s a lingering fear that's hard to shake off.

he runs his fingers through your hair gently, trying to soothe you. “i know it’s hard to forget,” he says softly, “but you’e awake now. that nightmare isn’t real. you’re here with me and geto, you’re safe. there he is,” he murmur the moment his eyes caught geto walk out of the bathroom.

geto returns from the bathroom, immediately noticing your tense demeanor and the way you're still glued to gojo’s side. he walks over and takes a seat next to you, a small frown tugging at his lips as he takes in your anxious expression. he reaches out and puts a hand gently on your shoulder. “still rattled?” he asks, his voice soft.

you nod silently, unable to speak through the lump in your throat. the nightmare still feels fresh in your mind, leaving you feeling vulnerable and shaken. geto’s touch brings you a small measure of reassurance, but it’s not enough to fully calm your racing heart.

geto chuckles softly, his expression softening as he watches you shift in gojo’s embrace, your eyes still filled with a lingering unease. "come here," he murmurs, opening his arms wide. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes, but the warmth in his voice makes it clear that his intention is to comfort you.

without hesitation, you move from gojo’s chest and slip into geto’s arms, almost instinctively. he wraps them around you, pulling you close, his hands immediately resuming their familiar, soothing touch. “there you go,” he murmurs into your hair, his breath warm against your skin. his voice is light, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

then, with a small smirk, he adds teasingly, “you really are a crybaby, you know that?” despite the words, there’s nothing but affection in his tone.

you can’t help but let out a small, half-hearted laugh through your lingering nerves, burying your face in his shoulder. “i’m not,” you mumble, the warmth of his embrace finally starting to chip away at the cold fear still gripping your heart.

gojo watches as you move into geto's arms, his expression a mix of amusement and understanding. he sees the way you immediately melt into geto’s touch, the tension slowly slipping away. as you let out a small laugh, he lets out a small scoff, a smile on his face. “yes, you are,” he says, joining in the teasing. “but it’s alright, we have all night to soothe your fragile little heart.”

geto laughs softly at gojo's words, his arms tightening around you momentarily. “he’s right, you know,” he murmurs, his voice soft against your hair. “you really are quite sensitive when it comes to nightmares. but don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe and sound all night long.”

his hands continue to run soothingly over your back as he looks over at gojo. “you better watch yourself. you’re just as soft as she is, you know.”

you grumble in response, your face still buried in geto’s shoulder. you can feel his laugh reverberate through his chest, and his hands continue to move gently over your back, soothing and comforting.

“you two are such a jerk,” you murmur, but there’s no real venom in your words. geto just laughs again, pulling you even closer into his embrace. “and you’re a baby,” he teases again, ruffling your hair.

gojo grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “aww, don’t deny it, you're a total baby.” he teasingly pokes your side, making you squirm in protest. geto chuckles, holding on to you firmly. “yeah, that’s right. you’re our little baby. all soft and sensitive, just like a fragile little flower.”

“stop moving too much,” you whine, trying to keep up as geto moves around the house with his usual calm, deliberate pace. it’s been hours of him finding little things to do, whether straightening up, moving a book from one shelf to another, or inspecting something that didn’t need attention at all.

he glances over his shoulder at you, amusement dancing in his eyes as he chuckles. “you’re the one who keeps following me,” he teases, but there’s a knowing warmth behind his words. he’s been doing this on purpose—giving you something to focus on, keeping you busy enough to slowly pull you away from the lingering nightmare.

you can tell what he’s up to, but you don’t mind. in fact, it’s comforting to follow him, even if your legs are starting to get tired. each step behind him feels like a reminder that he’s there, solid and real, and the nightmare is fading further into the background.

he pauses for a moment, turning to face you fully with a smirk. “i’m just making sure you tire yourself out enough to sleep tonight and stop you from all those nightmares you had,” he says lightly, his eyes softening as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

you groan, feeling the exhaustion creeping in as you follow geto once again, watching him head toward the kitchen. “you’re so annoying,” you mutter, though there’s no real bite behind your words. he’s clearly enjoying himself, finding amusement in your persistence.

geto just chuckles again, unfazed, as he steps into the kitchen where gojo is sitting comfortably at the dining table, leisurely munching on a donut. gojo watches the whole scene unfold with an amused grin, his eyes flicking between the two of you. "you really are wasting all your energy following him around like a lost puppy,” gojo comments, his voice teasing but not unkind. he takes another bite of his donut, leaning back in his chair like he’s enjoying a front-row seat to the show.

“maybe if someone would stop walking around, i wouldn’t have to,” you huff, shooting a playful glare at geto as he busies himself with something on the counter. “toruuu, you could help me, you know,” you say, taking a seat beside him, though even as you speak, you know that’s unlikely. he’s perfectly content watching you wear yourself out.

gojo chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watches you following geto around like a lost puppy. he knows exactly why geto’s doing this, and he’s thoroughly enjoying the show. “aww, look at you being the devoted little follower,” he teases between bites of his donut. “just keep following him like that and you’ll wear yourself out in no time.”

geto, who’s puttering around in the kitchen, can’t help but chuckle at your comment. he shoots a glance over his shoulder at you, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “and miss this entertaining spectacle? it’s not every day i get to have a cute little puppy trailing behind me, constantly at my beck and call,” he teases back.

he knows that you’re not exactly happy about being tired out, but he’s enjoying the fact that you’re willingly following him around. it’s like a game to him, seeing how long you’ll keep up the tag-along. but he also wants to help you shake off the lingering effects of the nightmare.

gojo lets out a small pout of mock disappointment as you steal his donut, his initial protest quickly giving way to a look of amusement. “how rude,” he says, feigning hurt.

he watches as you happily bite into the stolen treat, a small smile tugging at his lips. “you’re such a little gremlin, you know that?” he teases, knowing full well that he doesn’t mind sharing, especially if it puts a smile on your face. geto watches the whole scene unfold from a distance, a grin on his face as he continues tending to whatever he’s doing in the kitchen.

geto can’t help but feel a warmth in his chest as he watches you banter playfully with gojo, the tension and unease from earlier slowly melting away. he continues his tasks in the kitchen, allowing himself a moment to simply observe the two of you interacting.

after a moment, he speaks up again. “you know, if you’re done eating gojo’s donut, maybe you should come back here. i’m not finished with you yet.” there’s a hint of tease in his voice, even as he keeps his focus on the task before him.

you shake your head playfully, reaching for another donut with a smug grin. “i think i’m good here, actually,” you say, biting into the donut with exaggerated satisfaction. “besides, the nightmare’s already gone, and satoru’s donuts taste so good.”

gojo chuckles, watching you pilfer another donut from the box. “you’re a little thief,” he teases, not bothering to stop you. he doesn’t really mind sharing his food, especially if it means getting to see you look so satisfied and relaxed.

geto scoffs at your response, his eyes narrowed with playful irritation. “don’t think you’re getting off that easily. i’ve got plans for you.” he glances over his shoulder at you, a smirk on his lips. “and besides, i’m not done yet. you still have some energy left to burn.”

you hum contentedly, still munching on the donut in your hand. glancing at the box, then back at gojo, you grin mischievously. “i call shotgun on the oreo,” you announce, pointing toward the donut with a playful smirk, even while taking another bite of the one you’re eating.

gojo rolls his eyes, his expression a mix of playful annoyance and amusement. “you’re really going to finish all my donuts, aren’t you?” he says, knowing full well that resisting your charm is a futile task.

before he can respond further, geto calls out from the kitchen, his voice laced with both warmth and command. “oh, come on. quit flirting with each other and get your ass over here.”

you flash gojo a smug grin, enjoying the way his face twists in mock annoyance. “too bad for you, i called shotgun first,” you say, your voice dripping with playful confidence as you take another indulgent bite of your donut. the satisfaction of winning this little battle with him adds a bit more sweetness to the treat in your hand.

you glance over at geto, who’s been quietly observing the entire exchange. with a heavy, exaggerated sigh, you reluctantly place the donut back on the table. “fine,” you grumble under your breath, acting as though you’ve just made the biggest sacrifice of your life. dragging your feet a little for dramatic effect, you slowly make your way toward geto, still pouting as you walk.

gojo watches as you saunter over to geto, unable to hide the small smile forming on his face. he shakes his head, amused by your exaggerated show of reluctance.

geto, on the other hand, looks far from sympathetic as he watches you approach with a small chuckle, his arms crossed over his chest. “oh, spare me the drama. you’re not the one making a sacrifice here, princess.” he smirks, clearly enjoying your exaggerated expression.

“you’re such a diva,” he teases, rolling his eyes as you approach. he’s clearly enjoying your bratty behavior, but he’s not about to let you get off scot-free. “now, come on. stop moving so slow,” he says, reaching out to grab your arm and pull you closer to him.

he guides you to a spot next to him, a countertop filled with various ingredients laid out in front of you. “since you’re so keen on stealing everyone’s food, maybe you can put your thieving skills to use in the kitchen,” he says with a wry smile, his grip on your arm still gentle but firm.

he releases you and steps back, giving you a moment to take in the array of items on the counter. “now, you’re going to help make some sweets,” he orders, his voice soft but authoritative. “and no complaints or diva moments, understood?”

you let out a dramatic sigh, letting your shoulders slump as if the weight of the world rested on them. your face adopts a lazy, bored expression, and you roll your eyes at geto’s suggestion. “i’m still rattled from the nightmare,” you say with an exaggerated pout, the hint of a lie in your voice. in truth, it’s more about feeling lazy than shaken up. “i’m not allowed to do such a thing while still traumatized,” you admit, eyeing towards the remaining treats with a longing look.

geto lets out a scoff, the sound a mix of fondness and irritation. he knows you too well to be fooled by your act. “oh, please. don’t try to pull a fast one, princess. i know you’re not that rattled. you’re just being a brat.”

he takes a step closer to you, his hand gently tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze. his eyes hold a mixture of warmth and challenge. “no more excuses. you’re helping me make sweets, end of story.”

he glances over at the remaining treats, a knowing smirk on his lips. “and don’t even think about going for those donuts again. you’ve had plenty.”

he releases your chin and steps back, gesturing to the array of ingredients on the counter. “now, here’s the plan. pay close attention,” he says, his tone commanding and authoritative. “i’ll guide you through the steps, but don’t even think about slacking off or complaining.”

you narrow your eyes at gojo, who’s blissfully enjoying the very oreo donut you just claimed as your own. his smug smirk only adds fuel to the fire of your annoyance. you cross your arms, shooting him a playful glare that says everything—this is definitely a low blow.

with a dramatically heavy sigh, you lean back slightly, feigning exasperation. “ugh, fine,” you concede, rolling your eyes for added effect. you shoot one last pout in gojo's direction before begrudgingly turning back to the array of ingredients laid out in front of you, secretly hoping you might enjoy the process despite your reluctance.

gojo chuckles, thoroughly enjoying your reaction to his sneaky donut heist. his smirk only gets wider, clearly amused by your grumpy display.

geto watches the exchange, his expression a mix of annoyance and affection. he shakes his head at your theatrical display of reluctance, clearly unamused by your exaggerated behavior.

he steps closer to you, his voice low and firm. “enough with the pouts. you’re not getting out of this, princess. you’re going to help me make these sweets, and you’re going to do it happily. got it?”

you roll your eyes dramatically, unable to help the annoyance bubbling up inside you. with a sarcastic huff, you mutter, “yes, dad,” the words slipping out effortlessly. it’s a phrase you’ve used countless times before whenever geto gets all strict and bossy with you.

gojo barks out a laugh, the sound echoing through the room. he can’t help but find the whole situation hilarious.

geto’s response, however, is far less amused. his eyes narrow slightly at your sarcastic comment, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “oh, princess, don’t even start. you’re really living up to the brat name tonight,” he scoffs.

“if you’re going to act like a petulant child, i can treat you like one,” geto threatens, his voice stern and commanding, his gaze locked on yours.

you mutter a half-hearted “sorry” under your breath, your face still scrunched in irritation as you grab the spatula geto handed you. the gesture feels more like a chore than a fun activity, and you can’t shake the annoyance creeping in from being forced into this situation.

geto’s unwavering gaze doesn’t let up, a mix of authority and exasperation in his eyes. it’s clear he’s not backing down, no matter how much you might want to sulk. you huff silently, resigned to your fate, and start to focus on the ingredients in front of you, trying to channel your frustration into something productive— even if it feels a bit like throwing a tantrum.

gojo watches the back-and-forth between you and geto with a stifled chuckle, clearly amused by your bratty behavior. it’s like watching two stubbornly opposing forces collide, each determined to win.

geto, on the other hand, continues to maintain his stern and commanding presence. he knows exactly how far he can push you, and he refuses to give an inch. “stop mumbling apologies and focus,” he barks, his voice a mixture of amused and expectation.

“you’re not getting out of this until you make something edible.”

the atmosphere in the kitchen is a mix of tension and challenge, as you begrudgingly begin to follow geto’s instructions on mixing the ingredients.

he watches you silently for a moment, his eyes never leaving your form. he can see the frustration and irritation still etched on your face, but he also knows that deep down, you’re enjoying this, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it. “less complaining, more stirring,” he comments with a smirk, clearly enjoying the fact that you’re following his orders.

[s-awturn]

Out Of The Plans || F1 Grid

cw: angst, pain, crying, lack of communication, breakup, fight, They are idiots, no exceptions..

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1

a/n: just angst and a feeling of heartbreak. Appreciate me because I wrote this in the middle of a horrible migraine

LEWIS HAMILTON:

It had been like a shock to your brain, this couldn't be happening, not at that moment. You held the pregnancy test in your shaking hands and checked the label again to make sure of the result.

A little line: negative.

Two little lines: positive.

And on your test there were two bright red lines, telling you in your face that you were pregnant. Oh God, you were pregnant and unfortunately there was no more inopportune time for a pregnancy. Okay, everything would be fine when you told Lewis, he always wanted a family, everything would be fine.

“This shouldn’t be happening, Y/N!” he paced back and forth in the huge living room of the apartment you shared. "Should not!"

Your stomach churned in fear, this wasn't exactly the conversation you were expecting to have when he got back from Singapore.

“Well, that happens when two partners have crazy sex and forget the condom!” you said as energetically as he did.

“You said your birth control was up to date!” he paused, looking at you with nothing but rebuke.

“Of course they were! But they don't work miracles, Lewis! Especially for the two of us who have sex almost every day without a condom!" you stood up and stood in front of him. "Now there is no point in pointing fingers and saying who was wrong, we have a baby on the way and we need to think about everything.”

Something strange flickered in Lewis's dark eyes and his heart sank.

“I can’t,” he hissed, pulling away from you. “I can’t deal with this right now, my life is a mess, I can’t deal with a baby right now.”

You felt your heart stop beating, what the hell was he saying? How come he couldn't deal when you were the one who would have to change everything?! Because abortion didn't even cross your mind.

“What is it like?”

Lewis licked his lips nervously, tearing his eyes away from yours, the tension in the room was raw and thick as fog, which made you even more apprehensive. He couldn't be saying what he wanted to say. Not Lewis.

“I can’t compromise the rest of the season, my performance with a baby now, especially since I’m almost at Ferrari,” he said it all quickly, in one breath. And you froze in place, blinking slowly as it sunk in that your boyfriend was saying he didn't want the baby.

You took a deep breath, you wouldn't let yourself cry in front of him, not anymore.

“Are you serious, Lewis? Are you really serious?”

He continued to look out the window, staring at the Monte Carlo marina, not having the courage to look at you.

“You, who always wanted a family, who made plans with me, are you saying you don't want the baby? That you can't handle it when I'm the one who's going to have my whole life changed to bring him into the world?!” It was his turn to walk around the room.

“But you didn’t even want a child now! You just got promoted at work! You can’t be judging me for that!”

That fell like a bucket of cold water on you, really, having a baby at that moment wasn't the best thing that could happen, but it was already there, it happened and the baby was already there.

“Alright Hamilton, the baby and I won’t hold up your championship, if you have any chance of overtaking McLaren, but either way, don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with that.” You said pointing to yourself, your hand supporting your still flat belly.

“Y/N, we can solve this another way-” he started, but you held up your hand to silence him.

“For the love of God, shut up, don’t make me hate you, Hamilton” you said and turned away, going to the bedroom. It was obvious that it was over, because there was no way you were going to abandon the baby too. Fuck Lewis and his problems.

He went after you, but was met with the suite door slammed in his face. You packed your things, only what you bought or took from your own apartment, you didn't want anything from him besides the little resident who rented your uterus on a nine-month contract .

“Everything is fine, baby, it’s going to be okay, I promise,” you said, standing in front of the mirror, imagining what your belly would look like as the months went by. “I will take care of everything”

You left the suite with a suitcase and two handbags, you had no idea where you were going at that moment, but anywhere was better than there with Lewis.

“Why are you going? We can work this out, honey—”

“Oh my God, Lewis!” you exclaimed, calling the elevator, “we can’t work anything out! You don’t want the baby, you don’t want us, so obviously this is over and I’m leaving! A great championship for you!”

When the elevator doors closed, you allowed yourself to cry, you never imagined Lewis would do that, never! You sniffed, wiping your nose on the sleeve of the only sweatshirt you stole from him. You wouldn't take anything else from him.

“We don’t need him, baby,” you whispered, as if the baby could hear. You took one last look at the apartment that had been your home for four beautiful years and with a heavy heart said, “Goodbye Lew.”

CARLOS SAINZ:

The doctor's words echoed inside your head.

Pregnant, you were twelve weeks pregnant, or three months. That was unexpected, very unexpected because you and Carlos didn't discuss starting a family, this discussion never reached you even after years of a stable relationship.

“Miss?” the doctor’s voice sounded distant to your ears, you were still focused on the blood test results.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Your mind fell into limbo and the last thing you saw was the doctor running towards you, calling your name.

The smell of antiseptic and alcohol made you wake up slowly, your head felt like it weighed a ton and your eyes were still blurry, you struggled to remember what had happened and like a bomb exploding, the word ‘pregnant’ popped into your mind.

“Calm down, calm down, you can’t exert yourself too much right now, Y/N.” You recognized the voice of Andie, your best friend from college. “Here, drink some water, the doctor said it would help you.” She handed you the glass, expecting you to drink all of the contents. “How are you feeling? You were unconscious for almost all day long, I almost died when they called me.”

“I’m fine, I guess... What did they tell you?” you handed the cup back to her.

“Nothing, the doctor said you felt unwell... What are you-” she was interrupted by Carlos’ abrupt entry into the room. He was a mess, still in his Ferrari training gear and with his hair a mess.

“¿Estás bien, vida mía?” (Are you okay, my love?).

“Yes, yes I’m fine... I just felt sick” you twisted the bed sheets between your fingers, how would you tell Carlos that you were expecting a baby, that you would be parents in six months or less? You looked at Andie, silently asking her to leave, the girl nodded and left you two alone. “It was just a scare,” she muttered, swallowing hard. “I got the test results back, remember how I was feeling really sick last week?”

“Yes, yes, I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to eat that steak tartare...”

“It wasn’t because of the steak tartare, Carlos.” You looked at him, feeling your nervousness tighten in your stomach. “I’ve been sick all week because I’m pregnant, I’m three months pregnant.” you said abruptly, watching Carlos lose color in his face and stagger away from the stretcher.

“Pregnant? B-But we were being careful!” he said, you couldn’t understand the emotions that showed on his face.

“Accidents happen, Carlos... Not that getting pregnant is an accident, especially when you have sex without a condom...” you said, waiting for him to calm down.

“This shouldn’t have happened! I don’t want children now!” he said exasperatedly. “I don’t!”

Something inside you broke when you heard him, you weren't ready to take on motherhood yet, your internet work was finally bearing fruit, your relationship with Carlos was going well, you never thought you'd include a child in that equation, but there she was. But none of that was as scary as the idea that her boyfriend didn't want the baby he helped conceive.

“You don’t want to?” you repeated his words slowly.

“No! Of course not! A baby now would get in the way of my career!”

And suddenly, it all came crashing down on his head like an anvil. Tears stung your eyes and the words came out before you could filter them.

“Go away, Carlos,” you were surprised to notice how firm your voice was. “Get out of here, get out of my sight.”

"But amor... We never talked about children, you never told me you wanted them!” The Spaniard tried to touch you, but you backed away, avoiding him as if he were burning you.

“It’s not about what I want or don’t want, Carlos,” you snapped. “I really didn’t want a baby, but I’ll have one in six months, with or without you! So decide whether you’re with me or leaving!”

“I-I can’t... I-I don’t want kids, I need to dedicate myself to the fullest and a baby will get in my way” he stammered, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Go away Carlos, I’ve heard enough” you turned your face away so you wouldn’t see him, ignoring his attempts. It was only when the door closed with a dull thud that you could let your strong facade fall and allowed yourself to cry to the point where you didn't notice when Andie came in and wrapped you in a protective hug.

“What happened? Carlos left as if he was being chased by the devil” she rubbed your back, trying to make you stop crying. Between sobs, you explained what had happened, feeling her embrace tighten. “Oh love, I’m so sorry this happened, I didn't think Carlos was a son of a bitch... What do you intend to do?”

“I-I don’t know... Maybe I should give the baby up for adoption, I don’t have the courage to have an abortion...”

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you, sis.”

You snuggled into her loving embrace, unsure of what your life would be like in the coming months.

CHARLES LECLERC:

“When are you going to tell him, dear?” Your mother asked you as the two of you set the lunch table, it was Sunday and once a month, religiously his family gathered at his grandparents' house. Charles had already attended so many lunches that when he didn't show up, his grandparents and uncles would ask. You loved knowing that your family loved your boyfriend. “I'm sure he'll be happy, Charles loves children.”

You nodded and a small smile appeared, confident that he would love the news. You discovered you were pregnant a few days ago and had already noticed the signs. You had decided to tell her about the pregnancy after lunch, even bought a pair of children's shoes with a Ferrari design on them. Who could judge you? You were so anxious!

Soon, the family gathered around the table, talking loudly and laughing nonstop, preventing any thoughts beyond the conversations and laughter. The conversation you were having with one of your cousins was interrupted by your grandmother, questioning when you and Charles would finally have children.

Charles choked on his wine and cleared his throat. “Mhmm well... I thought Y/N mentioned that I don’t want kids.”

“You never told me that, Charl...” you said just for him to hear “I never knew that”

“No?” he looked surprised. “Really?”

Silence fell uncomfortably over the table, you gripped the handle of the cutlery you were holding, feeling your anxiety grow in a negative way.

“You’re great with kids, dear, you’d be a great dad.” your grandmother said, surprised. After all, the Monegasque was adored by the children in the family and got along very well with them all, hearing that he didn't want children was a surprise.

“I’m a good uncle,” he gave a modest smile. “I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.”

Maybe it was your fault, you and Charles didn't have that conversation, so you couldn't know he didn't want children. But it was painful anyway, mainly because you were already pregnant.

Hours later, as you drove home, you couldn't stop thinking about his words.

I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.

“You are very quiet, mon cher” He said, resting his hand on your thigh. You jumped, caught up in your thoughts, you didn't even notice his presence until he touched you. “Did something happen?”

“I was thinking about the lunch conversation...”

“It was a strange atmosphere, wasn’t it?” he gave a weak laugh, giving her leg a gentle squeeze “with so many children there, do your grandparents still want more?” his laugh sounded strange to your ears, just like that conversation.

“I’m pregnant, Charles,” you said suddenly and screamed when he slammed the car on the brakes. “CHARLES?!”

He guided the car to the side of the road and looked at you, he was as scared as you were.

“You are what?!”

“Pregnant, Charles! I was planning to tell you today, but I found out you don’t want kids!” you exasperated, loosening your belt.

“That can’t be true, you’re joking,” he said nervously. “Y/N I don’t-”

“I know! I know that, Charles! You don’t have to repeat yourself.”

You saw pure terror in his eyes and braced yourself for whatever he would say.

“I don’t want this baby, Y/N, I don’t want to be a father, not today, not ever” he said.

You took a deep breath, feeling your head throb with the headache that would soon come.

“Well then I guess we can’t go through with this, Charles,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will not give up my son for you or anyone else.”

“Mon cher, a child would disrupt our lives forever, we would no longer be able to travel, we would lose our peace and tranquility”

“You won’t lose anything, Charles, you don’t need to worry… Now, if it’s not too much to ask, can you continue? I intend to move out of your apartment today.”

“Beau, (beautiful) It doesn't have to be like this... This child-”

“Don’t say anything else Charles, don’t turn the love I feel for you into resentment” you begged, avoiding his eyes.

The rest of the way was done in complete silence, despite the grief that broke your heart, you would not let it consume you. A life outside of that would be born in a few months and you couldn't let bitterness stop you from living the good moments that the future would bring you.

Charles still tried to stop you from leaving, saying he would leave you with the apartment, but you didn't listen to him or give him a chance to convince you.

“I hope you’re happy, Charles,” was the last thing you said before you left. From then on, it was just you and the baby.

LANDO NORRIS:

There were at least five tests done on the bathroom counter and you were in a panic, pure panic. It wasn't the time to have a baby, no way. You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as you thought about the situation, there was so much at stake.

You had to decide what you were going to do, whether to have that baby, how you were going to tell Lando... Oh God, there was still Lando. You couldn't even think about what his reaction would be. There were mentions of a son, perhaps after he had won a championship or two and had achieved everything he wanted, but not at that moment, in which both were still building their lives, their careers.

“I’m here, honey!” he shouted from the living room and you threw the tests in the trash without thinking. You checked your appearance in the mirror, trying to dispel the look of astonishment that covered your face.

You put on a fake smile and ran into the living room, finding your boyfriend stretching his body. It was clear that he was exhausted, but he was glowing, winning made him feel very good and you admired the Briton's bright eyes.

“Congrats on your victory, Lan!” you jumped into his arms, kissing Lando all over his face as he laughed.

“I wish you were there, honey, but you’d hate the weather… Anyway, how about we have dinner to celebrate?”

“That’s a great idea! Why don’t you take a shower while I get ready?” You gave him a peck on the lips. “I took a shower just before you arrived and I’m already moving our time forward... You know I take a long time to get ready.”

“Ok ok, will it be sad to take a shower without you? Yes, but if it means we won’t be long in getting out, great!” he said playfully and you responded with a light slap on his arm.

“You’re ridiculous, Lando Norris! Go take a shower, you clown!”

He laughed, grabbed his carry-on bag and went to the bathroom. You let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding and went to the closet to get ready. Despite being happy for your boyfriend's victory, you didn't have the slightest desire to go out and celebrate anything, but denying dinner would make Lando suspicious. You would take the time of dinner to think about what you would say, the panic gradually subsided, allowing you to think clearly.

You were finishing putting on your makeup when Lando came out of the shower, he still had the towel wrapped around his waist. From the position you were in, you could only hear his footsteps approaching the closet.

“Y/N, what does this mean?” he appeared in your field of vision, holding up one of the pregnancy tests. “Are you pregnant?”

You felt like the ground was disappearing beneath your feet and the earth was swallowing you up. From the look on Lando's face, you wanted the earth to actually swallow you. You'd never been claustrophobic, but that closet looked terrifyingly small.

“Answer me!” he exclaimed, making you jump. “Are you pregnant?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m pregnant!” You shouted back. “I found out today.”

He laughed, there was no humor in his voice, just sarcasm and disbelief. “I should have guessed.”

“W-What are you talking about?” you stuttered, dropping your makeup on the vanity and taking a tentative step towards Lando.

“This whole shit, I should have known that at some point you would do this, who doesn’t want to get pregnant by a Formula One driver, right?” he said furiously and threw the test at your feet.

Reality hit you like a punch. Lando was claiming that you got pregnant on purpose. He thought you were a gold digger.

“Are you suggesting that I wanted to get pregnant on purpose?! Lando, I just graduated! I don’t even work yet, why the hell would I want a child now?” You yelled at him.

“Work?” he laughed wryly, running his hands through his hair. “As if you would think of that, not being supported by my money!”

His every word felt like a stab to your chest.

“I never wanted a penny from you, Lando! I always refused any thing or privilege from you!” you answered him, sitting down. Your body felt heavy, full of tiredness. “I never wanted anything from you but yourself!”

“You’re a fake, a liar like all the others!” he accused you, pointing his finger in your direction. “Get your things and get out of my house, I don't want to know anything about you anymore” he took a deep breath and for you, the rejection was nothing compared to the pain of being called a gold digger, a dowry hunter. That was a hard blow to his dignity.

You threw your clothes on the floor, only the ones you had taken to his house. After dropping all the clothes on the floor, you grabbed some bags to put all your belongings in. At that moment, Lando had already dressed and was standing in the middle of the suite.

“Tell me where you will be staying so I know where to send the child support check.” He demanded and you glared at him, you were just as angry as he was.

“You and your fucking money can rot in hell, Lando. My son and I don’t need you at all, you're dead to me, Norris, completely dead and buried.” you left the room and ignoring his screams.

Lando and his money could go fuck themselves, you never wanted to see him again!

OSCAR PIASTRI:

Sorry, I can't see Pastry in this scenario 🫣

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

That saying “in the blacksmith’s house, the spit is made of wood” made a lot of sense to you, being a doctor you knew when people were unwell just by looking at them, it was a joke not to have noticed the signs of pregnancy. So imagine how surprised you were to find that not only was your period late, but you were also experiencing frequent nausea and episodes of dizziness.

Even though getting pregnant wasn't one of your dreams, you were happy, after all, everything in your life was going well: you had a stable job, your finances were going well and your fiancé was great. Even though it wasn't planned, you were already more than excited for the baby's arrival.

You decided to tell Max during his week off, where he would be more relaxed, without the stress of work. Until his week off arrived and you were jumping up and down with anticipation to tell him, you waited for Max to relax enough. You knew he would like it, Max loved kids.

“Honey, I have something to tell you” you took advantage of the fact that he wasn’t playing and sat on his lap.

“Sure, mijn liefje (my love), I’m all ears” he took off his headphones and turned off the monitors, it was always like that when you talked to him, nothing else mattered to Max other than what you said.

“Straight to the point, I’m six weeks pregnant—”

“What do you mean you’re pregnant? That’s not possible, still more than six weeks”

An alert sounded in your mind, was Max really suggesting that you might have cheated on him?

“I was in the middle of a series of races, we barely saw each other during that month” he argued, making the doubts he had even more obvious.

“Max, you can’t be suggesting that!”

“In that case, explain to me how you are pregnant if we weren’t together!”

“Is your memory so bad that you don’t remember that we were together in Spielberg?!” you threw at him, irritated by his distrust. “I spent the entire Austrian GP weekend with you!”

“We had sex once that week, there’s no way that it was that sex that was rewarded with a child!” Max looked increasingly distraught.

“Are you kidding me, Max? I never cheated on you, I barely have time for you, let alone another man!” You were nervous to the point of shaking, you sat back down, trying to keep calm.

“I don’t believe you, Y/N, I’m sure this child’s father is that pediatrician at the hospital!”

“I’m not going to listen to anything else, you’re delusional,” you mumbled, tears blurring your vision.

“You better go away, I don’t want to know anything about you or that child!”

You wiped away your tears, feeling humiliated, hurt and offended.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make a point of letting you know anything about us,” you assured. “I'll send someone to get my things, or leave them at the reception and I'll pick them up later, I don't know!" you put on your shoes and grabbed your bag.

“Be grateful if I don’t throw it away.”

“Whatever Max, do whatever you want, I don’t care” and with that, you slammed the apartment door hard enough to knock the picture of the two of you off the wall.

[silkythewriter]

Angel on fire

Warnings!: Angst(?), love triangle. (Part 1)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel

Author note: I JUST WANNA WORK ON SOMETHING FOR MYSELF BEFORE JUMPING BACK TO DOING REQUESTS ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: “you are as beautiful as the moon my dear.” He said with the sweeting smile you adored. “And your as deadly as the sun I fear, my love” you answered oh so bitter-fully.

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

“You should've seen the way she looked, igual que un ángel

Heaven's her residence y ella no se va a caer

They just can't reach her, princesita inalcanzable“

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

The air was heavy almost unbreathable, how the demons lived like this was dancing around in your mind. It was so much different in hell then in heaven, there was so much… malice but that’s to be expected you supposed.

But you choose to continue walking, in your disguise of course, the out rage there would be if one of heavens top angels were in hell would be quite the mess to say the least. But you had to risk it, if charlie was right, if souls truly could be redeemed…maybe…just maybe, you’d be able to see him once more.

Finally you reached the hotel doors, and with one last stride stood right were the door knob was. Your nerves were going array to say the least, you knew what this rebellion could cost you. But it was for him, it always was, wasn’t it?, you quickly snapped out of you mind as you took a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting anxiously. A creek rang out in your ears as the door opened, coming face to face with the princess of hell herself. She looked at you with confusion before quickly turning it into excitement as she bounced around quickly grabbing your arm and letting you in as she shut the door in a hurry.

“I’m so glad you made it!” She squealed. Leaving you surprise after the rough hearing in heaven she had just a day ago. “I’m glad I made it aswell, it took much more then I was expecting but I’m glad no one seemed to notice!” You said gracefully as you could. “Have you made sure everyone’s away?” You asked in hushed tone, she quickly nodded as she explained “yes I have!, though it cost a bit but Cherri took them out for a bit!” She said nervously playing with her hair “although this time I said to stray away from clubs…” she said with a heavy sigh. You placed your hand on her shoulder comforting as you began to speak “I’m sure we’ll figure something out!” You said with a sure smile. Making her regain hers as she agreed “yea! Your right, okay, let’s do this!” She said as her hands turned in to fist to pump herself up.

“So, what was your idea?”

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

“So! What do you think?, I know it sounds a bit crazy but!-“ you quickly cut her off “it isn’t crazy Charlie! It just needs some work…” you smiled softly at the girl making her look back at her board covered in strings and notes. “Yea.. I know..” she said pacing “look, I know I said I have connections with adam.. but it’s gonna take some time to convince him.. especially if you and I wanna not make it look suspicious” you said pondering what your next move should be.

“I know but even for that one day in heaven I could tell he has some favoritism for you!” Charlie exclaimed “yes but-“ you inquired before she cut you off “look, Y/n, I just need the date of the extermination to be pushed back! He said he’ll come for us first and I just… I don’t know what to do! He won’t listen!” She said as her hand stressfully began to run through her blond hair as her pacing picked up pace. “He won’t listen, but I’ll make him listen Charlie, that’s an angels promise” you said trying to calm the girl. Which seemingly helped her before she sat down next to you sighing. Before turning her head to you questioning something in her head before finally speaking up.“I know this might be rude, don’t get me wrong! I’m so glad you actually listen to my idea! But…what’s the reasoning? I mean barely anyone even tried agreeing! But you’re.. just leading a hand for the hell of it?” She questioned with a glint of curiosity in her eyes. You only stared at her as you questioned if you should even trust her with such information you were about to tell.“I…I have someone who’s dear to me here, and I just, I just want him back in my arms” you confessed making the princesses eyes widen. “Who!” She asked almost too quickly, you shook your head in disappointment “I apologize princess but I’m afraid that’s something I wish to not reveal” you said.

“Look I have to get going, someones probably already getting suspicious of my absents” you said standing up and dusting off your clothing “but like I promised I’ll see what I can do and I’ll push the date as far back as I can, okay?” You said as you looked down at Charlie who still was seated at the couch. She could only nod, but you could tell she had some Sorrow in her mood. “Please keep your head up high princess, do not let them knock down your dreams.” You said silently as you bowed to her “I’ll be taking my leave but please put your trust in me, I will keep your and my people safe” you said with a smile as she stood up eyes drifting to you. “I..I trust you y/n” she said with a soft smile you only nodded to this as a portal behind you soon began to open. “I’ll come back soon, and with good news” you said as you slowly backed into the portal “take care princess” you said one final time at her.

She nodded as you gave her one last reassuring smile before fully walking into the portal. leaving the princess in a half better state then she was before.

But little did both of you know, a red haired demon was carefully listening in to both of you. Oh how his smile grew all the more bigger

His precious y/n was soon to be home,

With him once more.

★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ★ミ

EEEE THIS IS PART ONE IM WORKING IN PART TWO SOON I REALLY AM GOING CRAZY FOR THE STORY IM ABT TO COOK UP AHHH ̋(๑��́ꇴ˂̀๑)

[klemen-tine]

Blowing Raspberries Part 2

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Finally the 2nd part is out! A bit short but I genuinely felt there wasn't much needed.

Part 1

TW: Child Neglect and just Yandere themes

Living full time with the Waynes was different. It shouldn’t be, because he’s lived here before. Even if it wasn’t permanent, he still knew the ins and outs of the manor and the daily lives of each member of this family. 

He watched the television numbly, feeling Dick’s fingers carding through his hair and twisting and twirling each lock. The difference was the Wayne family. Underneath the smiles and gentle gestures, Y/N could see the underlying desires and wants in each movement. A desire that Y/N has seen art collectors view paintings that are not in their collection. The want and need to have it with them at all times. 

Y/N could almost see it. In their eyes, he was no longer the brother that came and went, but now a piece of the collection that they had bought from the original collector. 

‘I’m being dramatic.’ Y/N thought, focusing back on the movie and trying to ease his fears about everything. Just because they bought the company,which he was still better about, does not mean they own him. They would never do that to him. 

He also believed that about them buying the company. 

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dick asked, peering down at his older brother who was looking dazed. Y/N smiled, “Just thinking.” 

“About what? Maybe I can help.” Y/N smiled and Dick, and when Dick smiled back, there was absolutely no way that Dick could do that to him. 

“About this situation.” Dick looked confused momentarily, “What situation?” Y/N blinked in shock, digesting the words before slowly sitting up so he could face his brother, “This situation. Me being here indefinitely now, the family company is no longer mine…” 

Dick cocked his head to the side, “There’s nothing to think about though.” Y/N’s smile was tense as he processed what Dick said, “Yes. Yes, there is Dick.” Blue eyes continued to stare at him in confusion, “Like what?” 

“...Seriously?” Y/N sat up, and for a minute, he felt Dick’s hands tighten in his hair before they let go. Dick furrowed his brow before realization crashed into him, “Oh! You mean living here!” Before Y/N could say anything, Dick leaned against Y/N’s shoulder, “What’s there to think about? The only difference is that you are now living here 24/7.” 

Y/N chuckled, “Just because you guys bought the company doesn’t mean I live here.” Dick’s gaze turned cold before he began pouting, and Y/N had wondered if he momentarily hallucinated it. Dick let out a loud groan, “But you can’t leave! Y/N, what on earth are we going to do?” Y/N laughed, “The same you have always done, Dickie. Besides, for what it is worth, I’ll be here for a few more days.” Dick smiled up at him, “You better be. Dropping contact like that.” There was something dark in his voice that Y/N chalked up to him still being upset. 

Y/N continued to chuckle, his attention now returning back to the t.v. They watched it together for hours, browsing through different channels and watching different shows. It was just like when they were younger, Dick leaning against Y/N who flicked through the channels. Only now, there was an arm strategically looped with Y/N’s, and the man could feel the muscles underneath Dick’s skin that although weren’t flexed, they were a little tense. 

Almost like Dick was expecting Y/N to leave. It was kind of unsettling.

“Master Y/N, your father is on the phone.” Y/N looked up at Alfred with a confused look, “Okay, thank you Alfie.” Dick’s grip tightened momentarily before he released his hold and let Y/N get up from the couch. Alfred passed the phone to Y/N, and he had a moment of confusion as to why his father called the Wayne landline instead of Y/N’s phone 

“Hello?” 

‘Why the hell aren’t you picking up your phone?!’ Y/N pulled the phone away from the phone momentarily, letting his ears ring before placing the phone next to his other ear, “What are you talking about? You haven’t called.” 

‘Do not lie to me Y/N! I have been calling you for days, and I expect an answer!’ Y/N’s face morphed into confusion as he pulled out his phone and looked at his notifications, “Father, I am seeing no calls from you.” Y/N flicked through their messages, phone logs, even voicemail but there was nothing. 

He heard his father sigh irritably on the other side of the line, and Y/N fought back a shiver. Taking a deep breath, Y/N stilled his racing heart and continued the conversation, “Okay, since you have me on the phone, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

‘The bloody Waynes!’ There was no way Dick didn’t hear it, but a quick glance at the man and he was on his phone. Returning his attention to the call, Y/N’s father was still screeching and yelling about the family. 

‘-and you! You probably helped them out with that!’ 

“Me?!” 

‘Yes you! You don’t think I don’t know about you running to that manor whenever I am gone? Ridiculous! It is your fault the company was bought!’ Y/N felt heat rise to his cheeks and fire lit in his chest, “You were the one who signed the papers! How is it my fault?” 

‘You idiot! Do you think I had a choice?! If it weren’t for you, that company would still be mine!’ 

“What do you mean you didn’t have a choice?” Before he could answer, another person  joined in on the call, ‘Mr. L/N, to what do I owe the pleasure of you having called my manor phone?’

‘Mr.-Mr. Wayne.’

“Bruce?” He could hear the other hum, ‘Y/N, you can hop off. I need to talk to Mr. L/N.’ The heat in Y/N’s chest dimmed, and instead ice began to fill his veins, “Um, no it’s okay Bruce. I can talk to him–” 

‘Y/N.’ There’s a way he said it, one that left no room for arguments, that had Y/N blinking in shock. His body frozen and eyes wide, he pressed the button without really thinking about it. It wasn’t Bruce who said his name, but Batman. 

Y/N wanted to call back and tell Bruce off, but Alfred was quick to take the phone away and someone had grabbed his hand. He met the exhausted blue eyes of Tim,  and worry eclipsed his feeling of irritation at the sight of those bags under his eyes. 

“Oh my God, Tim! When was the last time you slept?” Y/N herded his younger brother to the couch where Dick was still sitting and gently plopped the teen between the two of them. Tim groaned, collapsing against Dick who wrapped his arms around his younger brother, “Wednesday.” 

“It's Sunday!” 

“Oh.” 

“What do you mean ‘oh.’” Y/N shook his head and did everything in his power to make Tim comfortable enough for him to get some sleep. Which wasn't hard. As soon as Y/N threw a blanket over his thin body, Tim had knocked out against Dick. Dick was content being a pillow for his younger brother, having his arm resting on Tim’s body as the other continued to sleep. 

Y/N hummed, smiling at his younger brothers and placing his phone call with his father on pause. 

++++

The strangeness of his current living situation wouldn’t come to light again until a few days later, when the bruises have turned yellow and the feeling of being restricted started feeling like a collar around the neck rather than iron bars. Y/Ns had tried, multiple times, to leave the manor. While he does see the manor as home, it doesn’t replace the other manor he grew up in. 

“I’m not a captive, I can go and I am going home.” He stared into Damian’s blazing green eyes, the youngest Wayne being the one to stand in the way of Y/N and the door. Damian’s face in a scowl and his arms crossed, he glared at his oldest brother. 

“You cannot.” His voice clipped and short, and Y/N wanted to roll his eyes, “Dami, why can’t I leave?” 

“Because you belong here. Everything you need is here.” 

“I understand that Dami, however the L/N Manor is also my home and I need to go back to it.” Damian shook his head, “No you don’t. This is your home.” It was like Y/N was talking to a parrot who kept repeating the same sentence over and over again. No matter the amount of reasoning or explanations given. He fought to bury his face in his hands, and instead he opted to suck on his cheek in irritation. 

“You’re making it sound like if I leave, then I am not coming back.” Damian’s green eyes steeled and his nose scrunched in a way to fight off a pout. Y/N furrowed his brow, wondering where this tantrum was coming from. Damian was above tantrums, finding them childish and pathetic, however he wasn’t above pouting. Y/N had gotten used to Damian’s pouting faces, and even  knew how to combat them. 

However, this whole thing was new. Not once has Damian ever fought this hard for Y/N to stay. 

“Damian, what is going on?” Y/N stared down at the boy, who looked like he had swallowed a lemon. He swiveled his head around when he heard footsteps approaching the foyer and sighed in relief that it was Alfred. 

“Alfie, what on earth is going on?” The old butler raised an eyebrow, “Perhaps we should have this conversation over some tea.” It was said in a tone that Y/N knew not to argue with, and he gave Damian one last glance before following the older man into the dining room where a tea set was ready for them. 

Y/N buried his head in his hands and groaned, “Alfie, what is going on in this household?” The near silent clink of a porcelain cup being placed in front of him had him reaching for the delicate handle. The butler sat next to Y/N, reaching for his own cup and taking a small inhale of the steam that was carrying the scent of oranges and chocolate, “They are being a bit difficult.” 

“A bit?” Y/N let out a chuckle and stared at Alfred in shock, “Dick is acting like I don’t have a manor to go back to, Tim is being Tim, Jason pretends he can’t read on his own and wants me there when he does decides to pick a book from the library, and now Dami.” Y/N tapped the table with his fingernail, feeling the frustration digging into his skin, “Bruce is the worst of them. Asking a wall to change colors is easier than asking Bruce to be honest.” 

Some part of Y/N was still bitter over Bruce acquiring the L/N family business, and he was trying desperately to understand it from that man’s perspective. Key word was ‘trying’ because he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Bruce knows how much that company means to Y/N, and how hard Y/N had worked for it. 

Sure, Bruce says he can still manage it, but it means nothing if the company is not his. He’d have to answer to Bruce and Tim. Just thinking about it pisses him off so much. 

Alfred nodded, “Oh trust me, I know. It seems they all inherited his stubbornness.” The manor’s residential grandfather figure understood each inhabitant perfectly, watching them grow up into the people they are today. 

Y/N groaned, sipping the hot tea and sighing as the liquid warmed his throat and chest, “Like, is all of this a joke?” Alfred rested a hand on his shoulder, and Y/N could see the apology in his eyes. He sighed heavily and returned his attention forward, tracing a finger around the rim of the tea cup and staring into his own reflection. 

It was all a joke. It had to be, right? “Y/N.” He looked up and Bruce was standing in the doorway. His expression relaxed, but Y/N has been around the man long enough to know that those tense shoulders are those prepared to give less than savory news. Alfred removed himself from the table, and Bruce took the seat next to Y/N. 

“How have you been adjusting?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, “There’s no adjusting Bruce. Every one of you is making it seem like I am going to stay forever.” Bruce gave him a sad smile, and Y/N glared at the look, “What?” 

“Y/N, your father sold the manor. There is no L/N estate anymore.” The floor feels as though it is opening up and about to swallow him whole. Y/N could feel his heart stop and the air leave his lungs like it was a punch. The world going blank and his eyes could only focus on the painting behind Bruce’s head. 

The manor was sold? His home, and everything in there, gone? Just like that? 

Faint memories of giggles and smiles filled his mind, his memory unable to conjure up the face of his mother but he remembers her laugh. Back when times were good and his father wasn’t an asshole. When he didn’t have to seek comfort in the arms of his neighbor and try and fill the hole in his chest with lost boys and girls that he sees as his siblings. 

All of it was gone. 

“-uca, I need you to breathe.” There’s a hand on his arm, the chair is no longer under him. Y/N can see blue eyes staring into his own as he began to realize that they were on the ground, sitting. Or, more like Y/N was sitting and Bruce is kneeling. His face pulled to the center of his face with worry, and Y/N is only now aware of how fast he is breathing. 

His hand reached towards his chest and clutched the fabric of his shirt, trying desperately to find something to cling onto as the air continued to get pulled out of his lungs. He couldn’t feel his legs or his other arm to be exact, and the when he tried to voice that all that came out were gasps. 

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A nod. 

“Good, I need you to find five things you can see. When you do, nod for me.” Easy, it was such as easy task but Y/N still found difficulty focusing his vision enough to see even at least three things. However, he finally found it and he nodded. Relief flooded over Bruce’s face, and he gave an encouraging smile, “Good. That’s amazing Y/N, now find four things you can hear.” 

That is how they spent their next few minutes, Bruce counting down the five senses while Y/N slowly came to his. Once he could feel the floor beneath him and more movement in his limbs, he sagged forward and into Bruce’s arms. 

“I need to call him. I need to call-” Bruce’ phone was already in his hands, and Y/N didn’t even question why it was Bruce’s phone and no his. 

He dialed a number he had memorized by heart and held the device close to ear. The damn thing didn’t even ring, ‘I’m sorry. The number you have dialed has either been disconnected or no longer exists–’ 

A sob on his lips as the weight of it all began crashing on him. The family company gone, the manor, and now this. It was like the universe wanted to take everything that made him a L/N  gone. 

“Y/N, I am sorry. I don’t know why he did that…” Bruce consoled the son that was never his. Always within arms reach and always a mile away. Always a brush on the fingertips but never in their hands. Until now. 

Finally, after so many years of waiting patiently for Y/N to see, here he is in his arms. Here is their strong oldest sibling crying in his father-figures arms because his real father wants nothing to do with him. It took some encouragement, but finally he was theirs.’ 

Bruce held him tight, his strong arms wrapped around those soldiers that carried too much, and blue eyes met green. Damian stood in front of the door and he watched the interaction take place. A nod to his son and the youngest was gone, without a doubt moving to go and tell the others of the news. 

It took ten minutes to get Y/N off the floor and onto the sofa in the lounge room, where Jason and Dick were waiting for him. After passing him to their waiting arms and better worded promises, Bruce carefully peeled himself away from the Y/N and began making his way back to his study. 

One thne doors were shut, he pulled out a phonme and began to a dial the most recent number. They picked up on the first ring and Bruce couldn’t help but to smile, “Mr. L/N, thank you for all you have done. Y/N is now in good hands.” 

“...My son–” 

“Will be happier. You have done your role, Mr. L/N.” He listened as the other seethed on the other side of the line, “Mr. Wayne–” 

“Rememer your side of the contract Mr. L/N. No more contact with Y/N, and you get to keep all this money you earned from selling both the business and the manor. You can continue to live out your days in Cabo, with your other family.” 

The line went silent, and when he head the shaky exhale, Bruce smiled victoriously, “Take care, Mr. L/N. For your sake, I hope we never speak again.” He hung up, and Bruce couldn’t help but to smile. Finally, after years of watching and waiting, it has finally all come togethe. The final link in the chain forY/N to remain here. 

It was hard getting Mr.L/N addicted to Cabo, and evern harder to get him to find someone worth marrying and staring a family with. However, it all paid off. The business was his, and Y/N will still manage that, and the L/N Manor is now Bruce’s which he’s not too sure what he’ll do with. 

Maybe a surprise gift for Y/N, but then again, that would mean Y/N would be leaving again. 

“Hey Bruce, we’re gonna watch a movie soon to help Y/N feel better. Did you wanna join?” Tim’s voice was muffled through the doors, but Bruce heard them nonetheless. He smiled as whe opened the door, “Sure, its important we are there for him during these times.” 

He’s finally with his real family. The family he should have been with from the start. 

______________________________________________________

And Scene

@problematicreblogger

@kurai-hono-blog

@rosecentury

@jaythes1mp

[endangeredrandomfanfics]

"A Mother's Calm in the Storm"

Taglist- @circe143 @skittlebum

Masterlist

Summary: A few days past and you and Agatha continued to live on with her draining witches but one fateful day you happen to trigger your powers and don't know how to react luckily your mother is there to help -Chapter III

===============================

The forest was alive with the soft whispers of leaves in the wind, birds singing their afternoon songs as Agatha and her child walked together. It was the child’s tenth birthday, a day Agatha had known for years would be special in more ways than one. She’d sensed the potential growing within them, like a seed waiting for the right moment to bloom.

But she hadn’t expected that moment to arrive so suddenly.

One second, her child was bending to pick up a small stone by the river, and the next, it was as though the forest itself had come alive in response to their touch. The stone hovered, spinning in the air between their fingers, and all around them, pebbles and leaves began to rise, circling in a strange, beautiful dance. The child’s eyes widened, watching in shock as the power spread outward, pulling more of the forest into its grasp.

Agatha stepped closer, her heart swelling with pride and wonder, but her child’s face held only fear.

“Mama,” they whimpered, their voice shaking, “I don’t know what’s happening… Make it stop, please!”

The child’s breaths came faster, panicked, as more objects lifted into the air—small stones, branches, even the water from the river lifting in droplets, suspended in a shimmering ring around them. They backed up a step, clutching their hands to their chest, eyes brimming with tears.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, my love,” Agatha murmured, kneeling down to their level, her voice gentle and warm. “It’s just your magic coming to life. You’re not in danger, and I’m here with you.”

But the child shook their head, squeezing their eyes shut as tears spilled down their cheeks. “I don’t want this—I don’t know how to make it stop!” They sobbed, trembling as the energy surged stronger, the floating objects circling them faster, caught in a storm they didn’t understand.

Agatha’s heart ached to see their distress, but she kept her voice calm, her hands reaching out to gently rest on their shoulders. “Look at me, sweetheart,” she said softly, her thumbs brushing away their tears. “Take a deep breath, just like we do when we’re practicing our songs. Remember? Breathe in… and out.”

They opened their eyes, looking into her calm, reassuring gaze. Her voice, soft and steady, seemed to reach them even through their panic. They sniffled, trying to breathe with her, their small hands clutching hers like a lifeline. Agatha’s presence was a steady, warm anchor in the chaos.

“Good,” she whispered, brushing a stray hair from their face. “You’re doing so well, my brave one. Now, let’s try another breath. Nice and slow.”

They breathed in again, following her rhythm, and Agatha felt the storm of energy around them begin to calm, the floating objects dropping slightly. She held their gaze, smiling softly. “There you go. You’re safe, my love. Nothing bad will happen—you’re in control.”

But even as the child tried to steady their breath, another wave of energy surged within them, wild and powerful. The stones, leaves, and river water rose again, swirling in chaotic orbits around them. They gasped, feeling the power slip from their grasp, their tears returning in a flood.

“I… I can’t do it, Mama!” they cried, their small voice breaking with fear and frustration. “Everything’s spinning, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I’m so scared…”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Agatha pulled them into her arms, wrapping them in a warm, comforting embrace. “It’s okay, my love,” she murmured, stroking their hair, letting her touch soothe them. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m right here, and I’ll help you.”

The child clung to her, burying their face in her shoulder, sobs shaking their body as they tried to calm down. Agatha held them close, rubbing small circles on their back, her voice a steady whisper. “Listen to me, sweetheart. This magic—your magic—is a gift, and it’s a part of who you are. Right now, it feels strange and new, but with time, it will become familiar. You’re so strong, my brave little one.”

They pulled back slightly, looking up at her with tear-filled eyes. “But I… I can’t control it. It’s too much, Mama.”

Agatha cupped their cheek, her gaze soft and full of love. “That’s why I’m here, my love. I’ll help you learn to control it, bit by bit. For now, just focus on me, and remember that this magic is yours. It belongs to you. It can’t hurt you if you learn to welcome it.”

They sniffled, nodding slightly, still clinging to her hand as they tried to process her words. “What if… what if I can’t make it go away?”

She smiled, leaning down to kiss their forehead. “Then we’ll face it together, every step of the way. But I promise you, my darling, you’re much stronger than you think.”

Her words seemed to sink in, and slowly, they felt the storm inside begin to calm. The wild energy quieted, and the objects around them began to lower back to the ground—stones and branches settling softly, the droplets of water falling gently into the river.

Agatha watched with pride as they breathed deeply, steadying themselves, their small shoulders relaxing. She held their hands, guiding them through each breath, her warmth and strength steady and reassuring.

When the last of the chaos had faded, the child looked around, astonished by the stillness, the quiet. “I… I did it,” they whispered, a small, uncertain smile crossing their face.

Agatha’s heart swelled, and she pulled them close again, wrapping her arms around them. “You did, my brave one. I’m so proud of you.”

They hugged her tightly, letting out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Mama. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”

Agatha held them close, her own eyes misting over as she kissed the top of their head. “You’re stronger than you know, my love. And I’ll always be here to help you understand your gifts, every step of the way.”

They stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace, letting the warmth and safety of Agatha’s love settle over them. And as they began to walk back along the forest path, Agatha kept her arm around their shoulders, a smile on her lips as they talked about their newfound powers and the exciting journey that lay ahead. Together, they were ready to face whatever came next—mother and child, bound by a love that was as fierce and enduring as the magic within them.

===============================

A/n: Please leave a comment 💜 I wanna read your thoughts 💭 about this, it's only the beginning I made more interactions happen between Agatha and the reader

[daisyblog]

Send To All

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN joins Michael McIntyre for a game of Send To All.

Based on this video.

“Good evening everyone!”. The comedian greeted the audience that sat in front of him. “Tonight playing Send To All is…YN Tomlinson!”. 

YN walks out to the sound of the crowd cheering. She quickly greets Michael with a friendly hug, before sitting on the chair opposite him. 

“Welcome to the show!”. He greeted her with a large smile as he flicked his hair back. 

“Thank you for having me!”. YN mirrored his smile, as she anticipated what was about to happen. 

“YN…for those who may not know…tell us who you are!”. Michael encouraged her, as he held both his hands in front of him. 

YN let out a chuckle, as she thought about what she was going to say. “Uh…I’m YN…I’m a fashion influencer…but I’m probably more known for being Louis Tomlinsons sister”. 

The name drop of the boyband member caused a cheer from the audience. 

Michael pretended to cough into his hands. “And Harry Styles’ girlfriend”. 

“Oh yeah…and that!”. YN teased, as she pretended it wasn’t a big deal. Earning a laugh from the comedian and crowd. 

“I love how you were like…oh yes…I forgot that detail…I’m Harry Styles girlfriend too…like it’s not a huge deal”. Michael playfully mocked her, before continuing his teasing. “It’s a huge deal…you’re living every woman’s dream”. 

YN giggled, already knowing how funny the comedian was. “But he’s just Harry to me!”. 

“Awe how sweet!”. Michael placed his hand on his chest as he pretend to swoon. “Okay…back to the show…tonight we’re going to play Send To All!”. 

“I’m scared!”. YN revealed as she fidgeted in her seat. 

“Can you pass me your phone?”. Michael asked. “I’ve been excited for this one!”. He rubbed his hands together, excited to finally have YN on the show. YN reluctantly passed Michael her phone and he quickly began to tap at the screen. “Who was the last person you text?”. 

“Uh!”. YN thought about the question. “I think it was actually Harry!”. She watched as he began to scroll through the one thing that held so much of her life. 

“Let’s have a look what you said”. After a few seconds of tapping and scrolling, he spoke. “So…you text Harry saying”. He left out a chuckle as he read the texts. “You asked him…would you still love me if I was a worm”. The audience let out a roar of laughter, causing YN to let out a giggle herself. “and he replied…babe, how am I suppose to answer that?…I wasn’t expecting that to be your last message if I’m honest”. 

“Oh it’s a daily occurrence…he’s definitely used to my randomness now”. YN added, as she knew Harry wasn’t fazed by her random questions anymore. 

“Okay…so let’s see…you own your own fashion company and design your own clothing, right?”. Michael asked and YN confirmed with her a nod and nervously looked the audience. His fingers tapped against the screen and now and then he left out a little chuckle. “So…you’re going to message…As you know I am a global style icon. For my next project for Styles Fashion I am doing a feature where I help people with absolutely no dress sense and I immediately thought of you. What was that hideous thing you were wearing last time I saw you?? 🤦🏼‍♀️ In return you’ll get a whole new wardrobe! What do you say?xx..”.

YN’s mouth hung open in shock as she realised how unkind the message sounded. “I’m going to offend so many people!”. 

“Well I’m going to offended so many people…they’ll just think it’s you”. The comedian lapped up the fear on YN’s face. 

“I won’t be able to show my face again!”. YN dramatised as she sat back in her chair. 

“Okay…we have some replies”. Michael announced as he scrolled through YN’s phoning, looking at the responses. 

“Oh no…I’m nervous!”. YN hide her face in her hands as she waited to see who replied to the insulting message. 

“Don’t be…what’s the worst that can happen?”. The audience laughed at the comedian. “Okay…who’s Anne?”. 

YN eyes widened at the name. “Oh no! That’s Harry’s Mum!”. Whilst the crowd oo’d, Michael looked a little guilty. 

“Well she replied saying…YN is that you darling? You would never send a message like that. Call me when you can! Love you xxx…aww how sweet is she…even after you said her clothes are horrible she still tells you she loves you”. 

“She’s the sweetest woman ever…I’m just glad she knows I’d never send a message like that!”. YN dramatically pretended to wipe the sweat from her forehead in relief. “Anne you’re stylish and I love you”. 

“Hmm who’s next…oh Roman Kemp…he said…Harry, is that you?”. Laughter filled the room as the amusement of Harry being blamed was too funny. “So…so far everyone doesn’t think you’ve sent this text…are you just a nice person?”. 

“What a relief!…I try to be…I don’t tend to insult people on their outfit choices”. YN tried to gather herself thought after hysterically laughing. 

Michael scrolled a little more. “This is brilliant…this is from Louis…Louis Tomlinson your brother…he said…fuck off you cheeky fucker!!…that’s the best one yet!”.

YN held her tummy as she laughed out loud, the audiences laugher filling her ears. “Just to clear it up…he doesn’t mean that in a serious way”. 

“Oh I think he does…there’s two explanation marks!”. Michael fuelled the laughter and YN couldn’t help but join in. “Who’s Jeff?”. 

“Jeff is Harry’s manager and friend”. YN fiddled with the necklace around her neck. “I already know he’s going to give me as good back”. 

Michael gave the audience a knowing look as he hides the phone on his suit jacket. “Jeff said…This is a cheek considering the last time I saw you, you were wearing last nights clothes with your head in the toilet!”. 

YN and the audience burst with hysterical laughter as they imagined her in that state. As YN managed to pull herself together. “I was very…I mean very hungover…the night before we went out and I’d had a few too many”.

“We’ve all been there”. The comedian didn’t judge, as he continue to flick across the phone screen. “Let’s see who else has replied…hmm…oh…Niall…Niall Horan…hey we may get the whole band now”. He joked, making YN lift her crossed fingers up. “He said…I won’t say no to a new wardrobe but I will say that I am slightly offended😂…poor Niall!”.

YN’s lips pouted at the thought that Niall was upset. “Oh that’s made me sad…Niall’s me bestie…Niall if you’re watching your style is sick”.

“You really are finding this hard aren’t you?”. Michael chuckled to himself, finding this all too amusing.

“Yes!”. YN didn’t need to think about her reply. “Honestly I would never text like this”.

“You do now!”. YN looked out to the audience with a smile of defeat. “We have another reply…from Nan…so I assume this is your grandmother”. When YN nodded, he continued. “Your Nan said…Of course my love. Anything to help you. But I am a little confused because when I saw your last weekend I was wearing one of your dresses from your brand. Love you❤️”.

YN covered her face with her hands as she giggled into them. “This is horrible!”. The audience were amused by this side of YN that they saw. “I don’t like it”.

In between his own belly chuckles, the comedian managed to speak. “I love how your Nan was like…yes of course anything for you and then basically outed you for your own clothing brand…absolutely brilliant”.

“The last time she wears me brand ey”. She sarcastically joked, knowing her Nan would understand once she explained.

“Okay…last one…a very quick, simple…you could say this one is not amused…this if from Mitch”. At the mention of Harry’s friend, YN was already laughing as she knew he was a man of a few words. “I feel like you already know this one…Mitch’s very strong and detailed response says…no…two letters…nothing else just a simple no”.

“Uh Mitch is lovely…but he definitely keeps conversations minimal”. YN explained, still holding her tummy as she finished laughing along with the audience.

“I can see that…I think that was the smallest text we have ever had on this show!”. Michael was dramatic with his voice and actions, his pitch high in his voice. “It is the end of the show…YN it’s been a pleasure…everyone give it up for YN Tomlinson!”.

Tag List:

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[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hey love

I didn’t exactly know if ur requests are open, so if not then please just ignore this <33

I need comfort so bad, but I already read so much fics and find find new ones lmao.and don’t let me start with ur writing, everything u write especially angst is so good🥹❤️

so I have a requesttt:

Fem reader x Minho

where she has had depression before, but a he seemed to be getting better, like she talked more again, she ate better, she just seemed happier. But then all of a sudden it gets worse. Ofc min notices, but when he’s around she always tries to act happy and stuff. But one day he gets home sooner than expected and finds her sobbing and breaking down in the bathroom (lmao pls if ur confused, for some reason I always cry in the bathroom lol) and yea, I’m letting u decide how it goes then.

make it really angsty but with loooots of comfort too.

don’t stress with writing it, and if you don’t want to write it that’s totally okay❤️

take care of yourself, and have a great day/night. <3333

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Minho was meticulous. He noticed the tiniest details, the way your favorite mug shifted slightly to the back of the cabinet when you weren't feeling like tea, or how your laughter sounded softer, like it took more effort to push past your lips. And lately, he’d been noticing things he didn’t want to see- the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the shadows under your eyes that your concealer couldn’t quite hide, the way your smiles didn’t quite reach those same eyes anymore.

But you always brushed him off whenever he asked.

“I’m fine, Min,” you’d say, your voice bright but fragile. “Just tired. Work’s been a lot.” And you’d give him that reassuring grin, the one you’d perfected, the one you thought could fool him.

He’d let it go, though he hated himself for it, because he didn’t want to push you too hard.

Although he feels that maybe he should have pushed you harder to seek help, before it got worse.

Today was supposed to be no different. Minho had a packed schedule with rehearsals and meetings, so you were confident you’d have the day to yourself. Alone, you didn’t have to wear the mask. Alone, you could let the weight crush you, let the tears flow freely.

It had been a long time since you felt weightless. Not the weightlessness that people romanticized, no. They simplest type of weightlessness. Like you could draw in a breath without fear of suffocation. Like you could close your eyes with the excitement of opening them the next day. The type of weightlessness where you could simply live.

It started small: an ache in your chest that grew and grew until it felt like a gaping hole. You couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a burden you must be with your depression; how your progress had crumbled, leaving you worse off than before. The spiral was quick and suffocating. Before you knew it, you were sitting on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to your chest, sobbing into your hands. The cold tile pressed against your legs, grounding you slightly, but not enough to stop the flood of thoughts.

You didn’t hear the door unlock. You didn’t hear Minho’s footsteps. The first thing you registered was his voice, soft and hesitant.

“Y/N-ah?”

You froze. Panic set in as you frantically wiped at your face, trying to compose yourself.

“Ah. Minho? What are you doing home so early?” you called out, voice strained. You continued to wipe your eyes, hoping that you could buy yourself enough time to look presentable. "Sorry I'm in the middle of-"

He didn’t wait to hear your response. Instead, the bathroom door creaked open. His expression when he saw you broke something inside of you.

His sharp eyes, usually filled with teasing or affection, were wide with worry. He crouched down in front of you without a word, his hands hovering near yours as if asking permission to touch you.

“Jagiya,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?”

Your chest tightened, and fresh tears welled in your eyes. “I didn’t want to worry you,” you whispered. “You’re so busy, and I didn’t want to-”

“Stop,” he cut you off gently but firmly. He reached out, his hands cradling your tear-streaked face. “Stop thinking like that. You could never be a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never.”

The tenderness in his voice unraveled you completely. You broke down again, and this time, Minho was there to catch you. He pulled you into his arms, his grip steady and unwavering. You found yourself curling into his lap as he leaned against the toilet.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here. You can cry.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. He rocked you gently, humming a soft tune, his hands stroking your back in soothing patterns. He didn’t rush you, didn’t tell you to calm down. He just let you feel.

When your cries finally subsided, leaving you exhausted and shaky, Minho pulled back just enough to look at you. His thumb brushed away the lingering tears on your cheeks.

“I thought I was getting better,” you confessed in a broken whisper. “I thought I was okay, but now it’s worse, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Minho’s gaze softened, and he cupped your face again. “It’s not about fixing it,” he said. “It’s about taking it one day at a time. Some days will be harder than others, but you don’t have to face them alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Because you're not broken Y/N. You just need a little guidance. Thats all.”

You nodded, though doubt still lingered in the corners of your mind. “But what if I-”

“No,” he interrupted. “No ‘what ifs.’ We’ll deal with whatever comes, together. Promise me you’ll let me in next time. I need you to let me help you.” He blinked at you, his mouth in a straight line. "Okay? Because I love you."

The sincerity in his voice broke through the wall you’d built around yourself. You nodded again, this time with a small spark of hope.

“I promise,” you whispered.

Minho smiled, a rare, soft smile that was just for you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. 

“Good,” he said. “Now, let’s get you out of here, okay? The bathroom floor isn’t exactly the coziest spot.”

You let out a watery laugh, and he helped you to your feet, keeping an arm around you for support. He guided you to the couch, where he wrapped you in a blanket and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup of tea and some of your favorite snacks.

“Eat,” he said, sitting beside you and pulling you close, to where you two were almost molded together. “And then we’ll figure out what’s next.”

For the first time in days, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter, even if it was just temporary. With Minho by your side, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could get through this.

As the night went on, Minho stayed close. He didn’t just hover; he engaged you, talking about anything and everything- his latest dance routines, funny stories from practice, even the drama among the cats at home. The warmth in his presence was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than you expected.

When it was time for bed, Minho tucked you in and slid in beside you. He didn’t say much, just held you close, his arms protective and comforting as he cradled you from behind. Before sleep claimed you, he whispered, “I love you, Y/N. No matter how hard it gets, I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt safe. Truly safe. And as you drifted off, wrapped in his embrace, you dared to believe that things could get better.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[one-green-frog]

Hello! May I request Kanto Mikey with a boyfriend who is very self sacrificial even though he’s not in a gang and one day Mikey’s bf wounds up in the hospital after saving someone from a life threatening incident?

Unspoken Sacrifices

Mikey's normally indifferent manner was shattered as he paced back and forth in the hospital hallway, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Every second that went by made the knot in his stomach tighten and twist. He hated hospitals—the sterile smell, the quiet hum of machinery, the way time seemed to drag. But today, he hated it even more.

He had never wanted you to get involved. You weren’t like him, weren’t part of his world. That was one of the things he loved about you, your kindness, your warmth, the way you saw the best in people even when they didn’t deserve it. But that same selflessness was what had landed you here, behind the hospital doors that separated him from you.

It had been a normal day, for Mikey at least. You were supposed to meet him for lunch, your treat of course. But then he got the call. A shaky voice hardly explained what had happened before Mikey was already out the door andhe sped toward the hospital on his bike

You’d saved a stranger. That much was clear. You shoved a young child out of the way when a reckless driver lost control of his vehicle as he was about to cross a busy street. You weren't quick enough, even if you saved the child. As those watching shouted for help the car collided with you full force, sending you flying across the pavement with blood pooling beneath you.

Mikey slammed a fist against the wall, the dull thud reverberating down the empty corridor. He should’ve been there. He should’ve stopped it, somehow, should have helped in some way. The idea of you lying on the cold pavement, hurt and bleeding, surrounded by strangers, was enough to make his stomach churn. He wasn’t used to this kind of fear, this helplessness. In his world, when there was a problem, he fought his way through it. But this wasn’t something his fists could fix.

The door creaked open, and a nurse stepped out. Mikey immediately straightened, his piercing gaze locking onto her. “Is he... is he okay?” he asked, his voice low and tense.

The nurse offered a small, timid smile. “He’s stable. The injuries were serious, but the doctors were able to stop the bleeding and set the fractures. He’ll need time to recover, but he’s out of danger for now.”

Mikey exhaled sharply, relief flooding through him so fast he almost felt dizzy. “Can I see him?”

The nurse nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

The sight of you hit him harder than he’d expected. You were lying there, pale and fragile against the stark white sheets, an oxygen mask over your face and thick bandages wrapped around your head. Your arm was in a cast, and bruises bloomed across your skin, cruel reminders of the incident. Mikey’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn’t move.

He pulled a chair up beside your bed, lowering himself into it with more care than he usually showed. His hand hovered over yours, unsure if he should touch you, if he might hurt you somehow. Finally, he rested his hand on top of yours, his fingers trembling slightly.

“You’re an idiot,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Why... why did you have to do that? Why couldn’t you just stay out of it?”

His words were harsh, but his tone was anything but. There was no anger in it, only raw pain and fear. He looked at you, his expression softening as he took in the rise and fall of your chest, the small signs that you were still here, still breathing.

“You don’t even... you don’t even get how much you mean to me, do you?” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve lost so many people, and I’ve been fine with it. I had to be. But you... I don’t think I could live on without you"

He let out a shaky laugh, dragging a hand through his messy blond hair. “You’re not even in a gang, and yet you’re the one in the hospital. That’s just... that’s just you, huh? Always putting everyone else first. Even when it puts you in danger.”

Mikey sat there for a long time, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. He thought about all the times you’d scolded him for being reckless, for taking unnecessary risks. And yet here you were, throwing yourself in harms way

When your eyes finally fluttered open, Mikey shot up, his face lighting up with a mix of relief and concern. “Hey,” he said softly, leaning over you. “Don’t try to move. Just... just rest, okay?”

You smiled weakly, your voice barely audible. “I’m fine, Mikey. Don’t... don’t look so worried...”

He shook his head “You scared the hell out of me,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “just... don’t ever do that again. Please.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your eyes meeting his. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. “But... the child...I couldn’t just stand there.”

Mikey's shoulders were shaking as he put his face against your hand. "I understand," he muttered. “That’s why I love you. But please, for me... just be more careful. I can’t lose you.”

The two of you stayed like that, the weight of what had happened hanging in the air. But for Mikey, all that mattered was that you were still here, still alive. And he silently vowed to do whatever it took to keep it that way.

[yelenasdiary]

Can I request a Carol Danvers x sister reader please where R lives a normal life on earth but is constantly worried and missing Carol? Carol comes back during the snap era of Earth and finds R, but r is a bit cold as she thinks Carol doesn't care about her. Angst at the start but then they slowly rebuild their sisterly bond?

Shooting Stars

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Sister! Reader

Summary: When the whole world is turned upside down, your sister was the last person you expected to see.

Angst & Comfort

Warnings: Fear of Abandonment, Mentions of family ‘death’ | 2K

AC: I’m not 100% confident on the history of Carol and her family so please forgive me for any mistakes. Thank you for sending this & I hope you enjoy! x

The snap wasn’t easy for anybody, especially those who had lost a friend or family member to Thano’s actions. It had only been a week since you realized that your mother, father and older brother had fallen victims to the snap, leaving you on earth alone to continue life in a new form. You were the youngest of three, Steve was the eldest and then came your older sister, Carol and then came you. 

Growing up you had a close bond with Carol, the two of you did almost everything together. Wherever Carol was, there you were right by her side. You adored your older sister; she was everything to you, you loved her drive to do whatever she wanted, you were there for her when she joined the air force but then she left.

Since then, things between you and Carol were never the same. She spent more and more time in space and communication between you both got quieter as the weeks turned to months and eventually you just accepted the fact that Carol had found a better place to be, a better family. 

Steve was at work when the snap took him, your mother was out having coffee with her closet friend and your father was on his way to work. You reached out to Carol, leaving her a message to let her know that your parents and brother were victims of Thanos, you didn’t expect a reply, it had been months since you last heard from her. 

The afternoon sun kissed the living room of your family home, trying to watch a movie to pass the quietness of your home, you closed the blinds before you heard the sounds of an aircraft landing out the front. You knew who it was, you just didn’t care to greet her. Instead, you returned to the sofa and did your best to bring your focus back to the movie you were halfway through. 

Carol opened the front door, letting herself in like she normally would. Her footsteps could be heard making their way to the living room before you looked over your shoulder and laid eyes on her. One look at you and she knew it would take a bit for you to talk to her, after all, she knew you better than anybody else, so she thought. 

“Girls Trip, that’s a good movie” her voice spoke over the movie. 

“Yeah” you mumbled, not even thinking about pausing the movie to give her any more of your attention. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Carol took a seat in the armchair that your father claimed as his. You looked over to her, “I’d rather you not sit there” you said, “you know he didn’t like us sitting in his chair” you added.

“Well, I guess he isn’t here to tell me off” Carol replied, jokingly in hopes it would break the ice. 

“I’m glad you think the death of our father is funny” you shook your head before turning the tv off, “what do you want Carol?” You turned to her. 

“I came here for you” she admitted. 

“I’m doing just fine” you sighed. 

Carol’s eyes dropped slightly, “you’re mad at me” 

“Of course I’m mad at you!” You snapped, “you haven’t been here! I know what you do is important, and this isn’t your fault, but it’s been a week Carol, a damn week! And now you want to come here for me? You didn’t even reply to my message to me know that you were okay so yeah, excuse me for not exactly being the happiest to see you” 

Carol watched as you wandered off to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. With your little outburst, it gave Carol a bit of an idea on where your emotions were at. She knew she hadn’t been the best sister to you or Steve in recent years, she knew she had to do better.

----

Carol didn’t leave that night, the next morning, you woke up to the smell of bacon sizzling on the stove. It reminded you of how your mother would make your father breakfast each morning before he would leave for work, you were a student studying from home to become an architect so your mother would always whip you up a quick breakfast for when you awoke. 

“I hope you’re hungry” Carol smiled softly, flipping a slice of bacon when she heard you enter the kitchen. 

“I’m a vegetarian” you replied, opening the fridge to grab the fresh strawberries you had brought yesterday. 

“I knew that” Carol said more so to herself, “I suppose you won’t eat the eggs then?” She asked. 

“Not since you’ve cooked them in the same pan as the bacon and besides, I had eggs yesterday” you replied before wandering outside to the back patio. Carol sighed, the last time she saw you, you mentioned that you had decided to go vegetarian, but it slipped her mind. She finished cooking breakfast and turned the stove off. 

That afternoon, a little after lunch, you had gotten yourself ready to go for a small jog around the neighborhood when Carol asked if she could join you. 

“If you want, but I’m not slowly down if you can’t keep up” you replied, tying your shoelaces. Your cold bluntness towards her was starting to really bother her. “Can we talk first?” She asked, seeing you roll your eyes at her request. 

“What do you want to talk about, Carol?” You asked, sitting back in the sofa, looking up at her. 

Carol wasn’t exactly expecting you to respond the way you did, putting her slightly off guard. She wasn’t sure where to start or what to say that would make up for her absence. She took a seat next to you before breaking the silence, “I’m sorry” she said softly but clearly. 

“You’re sorry? Okay, cool, are we done?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Carol shook her head, “no, I want to make sure you’re okay” 

“Okay? Carol, you don’t understand. I’m not just mad at you for waiting a week to come home, I’m mad because you abandoned me. You left. You left us, your family and went off into space and found a better place to be. You don’t talk to me anymore; it seems like you don’t even want to know how we are doing or anything. You picked your new family and it fucking hurts. I looked up to you, I would stay up all night worrying about you! Every shooting star I saw, I wondered if you saw it too. 

Steve moved out and is living is own life, but he comes home to visit, and I go to visit him. I can’t just get up and fly into space to see you whenever I miss you or just want to bitch to my sister about life. I lost mom, dad and Steve but I lost you long before I lost them” tears filled your eyes as you struggled to maintain eye contact with your older sister. 

“Sorry doesn’t just fix this Carol. Sorry means nothing to me. I want my sister back; I want my sister who would make me laugh when I had a bad day, I want my sister who would tell me all about aircrafts and what you liked most about them, I miss when you would take me out for ice cream just because we were bored, I miss talk to you, I miss tell you all about my day and asking you for advice. I miss my sister. You’re just Carol to me now” you added, tears now streaming down your face. You hated getting emotional, before Carol had a chance to say a word, you stood up and wiped your tears. 

“Just give me some space” you said softly before going for your jog, leaving Carol to drown in her thoughts and guilt for the way she had made you feel. 

----

Later that night, you were catching up on some study when you took a break to get yourself a drink. The house was quiet, but the lights were left on, Carol was nowhere to be seen. You sighed, assuming that she had taken the easy way and left back to her new home but just as you grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge, you heard the front door close. 

“Oh good, you’re out of your room” Carol smiled, placing a paper bag of goods on the counter, “you need to put some air in your tires, they’re getting flat” she added. 

“W-what, I mean, where did you go?” You asked, confused. 

“I went out and got us some movies, old school on DVD of course. Did you know long I had to drive to find a store that rents out movies? I gave up and just brought these” she replied, pulling out a pile of 6 DVD’s and placing them beside the bag. From what you could see it was a mix of comedy and action movies, not surprisingly as the two of you loved watching those as children. 

“Then I stopped at the store and got some ice cream, I know it’s not the same as going out to get it but figured there’s no harm in having a tub each, right?” She added. You gave her little to know reaction, just a soft smile and nod as you watched her unload snacks and the ice cream from the brown paper bag. 

She turned to you, “I know I’ve hurt you; I know words won’t do anything to fix what I’ve broken but I need you to know that I never abandoned you, I thought about you every single day, I don’t have an excuse for what I’ve done but I can’t learn from my mistakes if you don’t let me try” 

Your eyes dropped to the pile of DVDs on the counter, “we are not watching pearl harbour” you replied, “and I’m taking the strawberry ice cream” you smiled softly which caused Carol to also smile. You grabbed a spoon from the drawer, took the ice cream tub and waited in the living room for Carol to join you. It would take some time for things to be rebuilt again between you both but as much as you were upset with Carol, you knew deep down you can’t stay mad at her forever. 

----

Carol stayed with you for months, only ever going back to space twice a week to make sure things were still in order but she made it clear that her top priority was being there for you. Sometimes you even went with her to space, where she showed you around her place. She had childhood photos of you and her hung up in her living room which made you smile softly to yourself, maybe you were a little too harsh on your sister after all, she was always trying to keep the world safe. 

“What are you working on?” You asked Carol who was under her aircraft in her green overalls that your mother had left hanging up in Carol’s childhood wardrobe. 

“Just making sure everything is okay with the oil and tighten bots, can you hand me the wrench?” She asked. You lent down and picked up the silver wrench and handed it to her. “Can I help with anything?” You offered, remembering when you were younger and Carol would teach you things about the engine and let you help her out whenever there was something mechanically wrong. 

“Actually, yeah! If you wanna come under here and hold this piece of metal in place for me, that would be really helpful!” Carol replied. 

“Lemme go get changed first” you said, seeing as you didn’t want to ruin your clothes.

Carol, under the aircraft smiled to herself while she waited for you to return, she also missed having her sister around to do things with. One day at a time, the sisterly bond you and Carol once had returned, only stronger.

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[numinousmysteries]

@poangsecretsanta

[on Ao3]

Vrooom, vrooom, let's basketball! For the delightful @xf-cases-solved aka diz who loves Milagro:

Agent Scully is already in love .

The words taunt him as she digs her nails into his back. She's crying hot tears onto the shoulder of his sweater and clinging to him like a life raft in a storm. He tries to focus on the thumping of her heart against his chest, the frantic breaths she gasps into his ear—signs that she’s alive, that he hasn’t lost her—but he can’t get Padgett’s words out of his mind. 

Padgett's a liar and a murderer, he tells himself. The guy would say anything to get a rise out of him. 

But he loves her. He's known for years although he doesn't know how to admit that to her, or even to herself. The possibility that she could feel the same way is too overwhelming to even consider. And the potential consequences too enormous. 

The paramedics arrive and give her a preliminary exam on his living room couch. Despite the volume of blood on her clothing, there doesn't seem to be an entry or exit wound and her vitals are normal. They offer a ride to the hospital just to be safe, but she declines.

"Alright," one of them says, slightly baffled. "Well, don't hesitate to call us again or come into the ER if your condition changes."

“Yes,” she says, her voice firm, the Dr. Dana Scully tone she uses for the rest of the world. For everyone except him. 

He shows them to the door. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks her once they're alone.

"Yeah, I think so," she says softly.

"Why don't I get you a change of clothes? Or, do you want to take a shower?"

"I-I'm not sure," she says and he realizes she's shaking.

"Oh Scully, come here," he says, taking a seat next to her on the couch and opening his arms to her.

Her lower lip trembles as she closes her eyes and rests her head on his chest. He wraps his arms around her and rubs soothing circles on her back. Her blood stains his sweater, marking him. 

"It's okay," he says. He leans down to kiss the crown of her head. It's warm and damp with sweat. She smells like fear. 

He hears her sniffling and trying to catch her breath. After a few moments of sobbing, her breathing slows down and becomes more measured. He feels her pulling back and he releases her from his embrace. 

"I'm sorry," she says. "I should go."

"Hey, wait, Scully," he says, grabbing her onto her wrist to keep her from rising from the couch. "You don't have to go just yet. I don't know if you should be driving like this."

"I'm fine," she says, although her warbling voice betrays her vulnerability.

"If you think I care about anything he wrote in that book—"

"Oh, Mulder, stop," she protests, but he continues.

"He didn’t know you at all. It was just the fantasies of a mad, lonely man."

"That's the thing," she sighs. "I think he did know me. Some of that was eerily accurate. It was almost like he was profiling me. I felt so exposed."

"But not all of it, obviously," he says.

"You mean, that I’m not in love?” 

He pauses, frozen in his tracks. He meant the part about her sleeping with Padgett. He wasn't expecting they'd actually discuss that part. 

"Scully, I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about it."

She sucks in her top lip and bows her head, tears still wet on her face.

"What would that mean?" She asks. "I mean, to you? What would it mean to you if I were in love?"

He's confused, tiptoeing carefully around her question. "Well, I'd buy the lucky guy a beer to congratulate him. Let him know he's in for a lifetime of being second-guessed. But also that I'm damn jealous of him for getting to spend it with you."

A soft laugh catches in her throat and turns into a cough. "Mulder," she starts, looking down at her hands in her lap. "You know there's no one else...in my life."

"No one else besides..?"

She sighs again, this time more in frustration, and looks up at him with wet, blue eyes. "You're really going to make me say it?"

"I don't want to assume anything. But if you were to say you were in love with me, I'd assure you that there's nothing in the world that would make me happier. And that the feeling is more than mutual." 

She stares at him in stunned silence and he immediately wants to take his words back. Not because they aren’t true, but because he isn’t sure he’s ready to face their implications. 

“Shit, Scully, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re in shock.”

“No,” she says quietly but resolutely, bringing a small palm to the center of his chest. Her touch feels firm. “I feel the same way. I have for a long time.”

“I’m flattered, truly,” he stammers. “But it doesn’t have to change anything between us. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it weren’t for Padgett and I don’t think we should give him that much power.”

He expects her to withdraw her hand but she doesn’t. With each fervent beat of his heart he feels the gentle but assured pressure of her touch. Not for the first time, he feels as if his heart will stop beating if she pulls away. 

“Can we really go back, though?” She asks, her eyes pleading. “To the way we were before?

He thinks, No, please, anything but that. He says, “Of course we can. We’ve made it through far worse.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to go back,” she says quickly, just barely above a whisper and he freezes. 

“Well, then.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It sounds strangled in his throat and he’s terrified of saying the wrong thing. Or the right thing. “Then maybe we don’t have to. What's stopping us?"

"I'm scared," she admits, with a furrow of the soft skin in between her eyebrows.

"I am, too," he says softly, stroking her back with one broad palm, feeling muscles easing underneath his hand.

She stares at him in puzzled amazement and he fears he's gone too far. But he sees her lips starting to part and they simultaneously lean in to meet in an impossibly soft, delicate kiss. It's sweet and sad and endearing. They're both scared to push the envelope so they barely move as their lips touch, as if just getting used to the sensation of touching in this way. It feels ancient and new at the same time. Like coming home while also jettisoning out of the earth’s orbit. 

She sucks in a sharp breath of air and pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No, no," she says quickly. "Please don't apologize. I want this so badly, too, trust me. I just...I don't know what it will look like. How it will change things between us."

"I don't know either," he admits. "But I think it's worth a try."

He has all the same questions she has. Do they keep this a secret? Can they ever be seen in public as more than just coworkers? Can they sleep over each other's apartments? They've been followed and trailed and bugged before so they know any change in their normal activities would quickly get noticed by their enemies. Although, in light of recent events, it seems that the group of men who've been conspiring against them might be much smaller in numbers now.

"I don't know what this will look like," he reiterates. "But I don't think I could live without you."

She nods solemnly. "What if they use this as an opportunity to tear us apart?"

"Who? The bureau?" he asks. "I'd quit. I don't care. You're more important than all of this."

She pauses thoughtfully as his proclamation washes over her. He knows what he's saying and he means it. Six years ago he told her nothing else mattered beyond finding his sister. At the time it was true. But six years later, his priorities have shifted. He's been lied to and fucked over too many times to genuinely believe that the truth about his sister is knowable. And if it is, he'll only find it with Scully at his side.

He told her once that she made him a whole person and it's truer now more than ever. Losing her would be worse than losing a part of himself. 

"I want to try then," she says, embarking on this shift in their relationship with the same seriousness she applies to everything she does. Scully does not leap without looking. He felt hurt in the past when she had her one-night stand with Ed Jerse, confused how she could do something so rash and frankly, stupid, but he realized she was only able to act so quickly because it meant so little to her. When the stakes are high, she takes her time.

"Me too," he says.

She gives a little laugh out of overwhelm. "We're talking a lot about this for people who have just barely kissed."

He smiles, feeling love and warmth emanating off her. "Well, I plan to change that as soon as possible. Why don't we get you in the shower to clean off and take it from there? Only if you're, um, comfortable of course." He wants this so badly but he also doesn't know if he wants their first time to be marred by the brutality of this attack. 

"I think I'll be very comfortable with that," she says. "Will you join me in the shower?"

"Pull my leg.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and he remembers, It’s Scully . No matter how their relationship changes, they’ll still bicker and disagree and she’ll still give him that look. 

He stands up and offers her his hand. She takes it and he leads her to the bathroom. The water takes a moment to warm up so he twists the knob first before addressing their clothing. She's already discarded her jacket on the sofa when the paramedics were examining her, so he starts with slowly unbuttoning her bloodied blouse. He moves so slowly, wanting to memorize this moment. He wishes there wasn't any blood.

After each button, he looks up at her, silently asking for permission to keep going. Her pupils are big and glassy but she nods each time they make eye contact so he continues. Her skin is soft and unbroken underneath her shirt but still marked red with blood. Her skin goose-pimples from the cold so he pulls her into his chest before sliding the shirt off her shoulders. 

"I love you," he whispers into her hair. "You know that, right? I've loved you for so long."

She leans against his body and sniffles. 

"I know," she says, and he kisses the part in her scalp, the white skin where her red hair originates. "I love you, too.” 

He returns to undressing her, moving more quickly now as he's eager to get her into the warm shower. Once she's naked in front of him, he pauses for just a moment to admire her before quickly pulling off his sweater and t-shirt and stepping out of his jeans. Her intellect and integrity loom so large in his mind that he forgets how physically small she actually is. He can span her waist with two hands. He’s terrified of what a man with less noble intentions could do. 

They take the final step into the shower together. She gasps when the hot water hits her skin and he feels a jolt of panic before seeing her visually relax in front of him. She closes her eyes and tilts back her head. On the shower floor beneath them, the tide runs scarlet.

The water is hot but she's still shivering so he pulls her in, wrapping his arms around her, pushing his torso into hers. 

He imagines Padgett touching her like this, his leering gaze lingering on her skin as he skimmed his hands over her breasts, her waist, her hips. He grips her more forcefully imagining how much this stranger wanted to do this to her, but never will. Mine , he thinks to himself as he goes in for another deep kiss, his hands on her neck feeling her stubborn, insistent pulse. She perseveres.

"I want–" she says into his chest. She doesn't finish her sentence but he knows what she wants. He wants it, too.

He takes a step back, still with his arms around her but at a distance so they can meet each other's eyes.

"There's no going back after this," he says. "You know that, right?"

Even amid the running water he can see tears forming in her eyes.

"No going back," she promises. Her voice is firm, strong. It’s the voice he’s come to trust above all others.

He's kissing her again, this time without hesitation, searching furiously within her mouth with his tongue as his hands explore her body. He's hard, now, aching for her and he doesn't shy away when he feels her soft belly press against his erection.

The water is running clear now, all the blood rinsed off her skin. He reaches for the faucet handle, seeking approval in her eyes. She nods and he turns the water off. Without stepping out of the shower, he reaches for the nearest towel, wrapping it around her. She's shivering so he brushes his hands vigorously against the cloth, hoping to warm her up. He's still wet, naked in front of her but he doesn't care. There's only one towel on the rack. Why would there be another? He always thought he'd die alone here. It's been years since he knew she was it for him. Either she'd come around or she wouldn't and he'd have to be content with their friendship. But now she's here. Naked in his shower wrapped in his only towel.

"Just a second," he says. He pads out of the shower, leaving a trail of wet footprints through to his bedroom where he finds an old threadbare towel in the closet. It smells vaguely mildewy but he doesn't care. He just needs to get himself sufficiently dry. He towels himself off then tosses it in the corner of the bathroom and returns to her.

"Cold?" He asks.

“A little, yeah.” 

He  embraces her once again, the towel she's clutching under her chin the only thing between them.

"Come get warm."

He guides her to his bed, pulling the sheet and coverlet over her, lifting her wet hair up on the pillow she lies on so it spreads out around her like a halo.

"You," she says.

He knows what she means. He slips under the covers to hold her against him. He's kissing her neck and whispering I love you, I love you, I love you into her collarbones when she stops shaking.

She snakes a hand between them and she feels her small, thin hand wrap around his cock. He gasps, involuntarily, the novelty of a touch that isn't his own for the first time in years is enough to set him off. The knowledge that it's Scully's hand is enough to make him cry.

"We don't have to...tonight," he says.

"I want to," she says.

"Well then I'm not going to argue with you," he says, smiling. She grins back at him and he feels the weight of the universe lifting off him. 

“That’s a first.” She grins. It’s a challenge and an invitation.  

He pushes himself up so he's on top of her, kissing her hard as she holds his rigid cock in her hand. Then, he starts working his way down her body, giving a little sigh when he's low enough that she has to release him. He wants this to last forever. He doesn't know if they'll have another chance. If she'll wake up in the morning and realize she was acting on fear and adrenaline and tell him this can never happen again. It's entirely possible, so he wants to savor every moment in case this is their only time. He wants to see her body respond in pleasure, instead of fear or pain.

She's already moaning by the time he makes his way to her navel. He tongues the concavity, then turns his head to face her gunshot wound. It's only a few months old, still dark and angry against her pale skin. He kisses that, too. 

Lower still, he gently parts her legs with his palms, pausing to glance up and lock eyes with her. He’s looking for a nod, a sign she wants him to keep going. She keeps her gaze steady on him, though, then opens up her legs further and wraps her calves around his back. 

He’s seen her naked before, but never like this. Never so open, so vulnerable and welcoming, and he knows how significant this is for her. For both of them. He presses a kiss on her mons, the soft hair still damp from the shower. He smells his own soap but underneath that, her . She tenses her thighs around him and lets out a little frustrated gasp that makes him smile to himself. 

He can’t deprive her what she wants. He gives her leg a squeeze, then licks her slowly, running his tongue from her opening up to the hood of her clit. That last part makes her gasp again and he focuses solely on her clit next, pursing his lips to suck while teasing her with his tongue. Just like he’s learned nearly everything there is to know about her over the years—when she’s truly angry at him or just needs a lame joke to break the tension; the way she licks her lip when she’s pondering a mystery—he takes the time to learn what she likes. She isn’t loud, but he seems to be expertly interpreting each of her little sounds as her body responds around him and she grinds her hips up to meet him. 

“Mulder—” she calls out and squeezes his shoulder.

He stops suddenly, panicking that he's done something wrong. She reads him easily, though, and gives him a reassuring smile. “Get up here,” she whispers.

He kisses his way back up her body until they’re face to face.

She takes the lead now, pulling his head down to meet hers and kissing him hungrily. He’s achingly hard against her and terrified he isn’t going to last long enough to make this memorable. 

“Can I?” He whispers into her, grinding against her like a teenager.

She answers by reaching down and guiding him inside her. She’s wet but so, so tight and he looks to her to make sure she isn’t in pain as he lowers himself down into her inch by inch. He’s trying to move slowly, fighting against every instinct in his body to plunge fully inside her. She takes him out of his misery by sliding her hands around to palm his ass and bring him closer to her. 

“You feel incredible,” he whispers into her ear.

He wants to remember every sensation—the warmth of her breath on his neck, the smell of her sweat, the grip of her inner walls around his dick. 

They start moving in unison, their bodies finding a rhythm that mirrors the intellectual volley they’ve established over the years. Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he hears her moaning into his ear. Thankfully, it seems like she’s close because he doesn’t think he can last much longer. 

“Oh, Mulder,” she purrs as her orgasm ripples through her body. His name on her lips is enough to make him surrender, thrusting quicker and harder until he comes hard inside her. The scope of his universe is suddenly reduced to their bodies, tangled and intertwined on his bed. 

Coming down from his high, he rolls off of her. Without speaking, they turn to face each other. Burgeoning tears blur his vision. He blinks to see her more clearly and she wipes them off his cheekbones with her thumbs. 

“That was…” He pauses, struggling to find the words adequate to describe the immensity of his emotions.

“Perfect,” she finishes for him. 

Their lips meet and this time the kiss is languid and indulgent. Worn out from physical exertion and emotional exhaustion, they take their time. His fear that she’d immediately regret what they did and they’d have to go back to being partners evaporates. It’s not an ending. They’re evolving into something new. Just as they’ve gone from coworkers to friends, the road to this next level of their relationship, he knows, won’t always be smooth but will be more than worth the journey.

[winchesterwild78]

The Ranch pt 6

Master List

Characters: Jensen-cowboy, single dad, x Reader-city girl moved to country to get away from it all

Warnings/Theme: Mention of death, loss of pregnancy, physical violence

A/N: A short little story featuring our favorite green eyed cowboy, not an actor in this, lives on a ranch in Texas, is a widower with 3 kids. Reader is a city girl who moves to the country to get away from her ex and start a new life. She takes a job on the ranch and things develop between her and the cowboy. Internal dialogue in italics.

So much love and thanks to @cheynovak for the idea. ♥️ All work is my own. No disrespect to anyone, this is a work of fiction. Real names are used, but again this is a work of fiction. Do not take my work

*Couldn’t leave y’all hanging for too long. This one will reveal what she did.*

Minors DNI 18+

The next you were awake early. You had been crying off and on all night long. The night nurse came in and sat with you for a while and you two talked. She offered you advice and you had to make a decision. “Honey, I know that man loves you. Nothing you’ve done could change that. You need to trust your love and his love for you, and be honest with him. At least give him a chance to make a decision.” 

You nodded, “I know, I’m just so scared. I can’t expect him to love me and be okay with it, when I can’t even forgive myself.” “Oh honey, you have to forgive yourself.” She kept you company even when her shift was over. 

It was about 8am when there was a soft knock at your door. You told them to come in and Jensen walked in. His eyes were shining and he was wearing the biggest smile on his face. The nurse touched your arm, “You’ll be okay.” You nodded and she left.

Jensen came in, crossed the room and pressed his lips to yours. His kiss always made you feel safe and loved. Tears fell from your eyes, “Jens, I need to talk to you.” Fear filled Jensen’s eyes. “What’s wrong baby?” 

You motioned for him to sit down, he took the seat near your bed. Taking your hand in his, “Baby, please talk to me. You’re scaring me.” “Jensen, I love you so much. I love your kids like they are my own. But I don’t know if this is going to work. I’ve done horrible things that I’ve kept from you. 

Jensen swallowed hard, “Baby, whatever it is we can get through it.” You looked in Jensen’s eyes and sobbed. “Please, Y/N, talk to me.” 

You took a deep breath and took his hand, holding it tight. “About 3 years ago Alex and I were on a trip. He didn’t want to stop at a hotel on the way home, so we would switch off driving. I would sleep, while he would drive, and then we would switch. It was about 8 o’clock in the morning and I was driving. I wanted to stop but he insisted I keep driving.” You let out a sob as you continued to remember what happened. 

Jensen stood and wrapped his arms around you, “It’s okay baby. Take your time. It’s going to be okay.” You held him tight, taking in his smell. You loved the way he smelled. Taking a deep breath, you let it out and started talking again. “I was so tired. I begged him to let me stop and he take over driving. He said he was tired and I was fine. I kept driving, trying to get us home. I accidentally dozed off and hit a curb.” 

Jensen held your hand tighter. You put your head down. “Jensen, I can’t. You’ll hate me. I can’t tell you.” Jensen stood, cupped your face in his hands, “Y/N, look at me, Nothing, I mean NOTHING could ever make me stop loving you, or hate you. I love you, you’re it for me. I want to marry you, have children with you, raise all of our children together. Please, talk to me.” 

You nodded and tears slipped out, Jensen wiped them away. “When I woke up I was in the hospital. When I hit the curb I blacked out. There were police in my room and they were questioning me. I had to submit to a drug test, and they checked to see if I had alcohol in my system. I didn’t understand why they would ask me for a simple accident. 

Then the chief came in, read me my rights and placed me under arrest. I was crying and nobody told me what was going on. They finally told me I was under arrest for vehicular manslaughter. When I hit the curb I hit a little girl. She was learning how to ride her bike. Her name was Rachel, she had blue eyes and blond hair, she was 4 years old. I killed her, Jensen. I hit her with my car and killed her.” You broke down, sobbing. Gasping for air as the tears fell. 

Jensen threw his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. It was just a terrible accident.” Tears slipped from Jensen’s eyes too. He hated seeing you like this. He knew the accident wasn’t your fault. You calmed down enough to tell him what happened after the accident, “The charges were dropped, because it was ruled an accident. I went to therapy to try to deal with the guilt. I just couldn’t bring myself to forgive what I had done. About a year after the accident I ended up pregnant with Alex’s baby. I was happy but felt so guilty. I was about 4 ½ months along and I lost the baby. Alex told me it was my fault, it was God’s way of punishing me for killing Rachel. Losing my baby just broke me all over again. So, I’m damaged. I don’t blame you if you don’t want me around your children anymore, and if you don’t want to be with me. I don’t know if I can give you children. I’m so sorry Jensen. I should have told you.”

Jensen looked in your eyes and pulled you close to him. “Baby, listen to me, I trust you with my children’s lives, I still want to be with you, I want to marry you, and if we can’t have children together, it’s fine. We have three amazing kids at home already. Why would you think I wouldn’t want you?” 

“Alex. Anytime I told him I was going to leave him he held the accident over my head. He knew I couldn’t forgive myself and he used it against me. He told me you wouldn’t forgive me and you wouldn’t love me anymore. I’m so sorry, Jensen. I told him I’d go back with him. I wanted to protect you and the kids. I couldn’t face you.” 

“Shh, it’s okay baby. That bastard isn’t going to get you or near you ever again. Come on baby, let’s get you ready to go home. To our home with our family.” You smiled and nodded. Jensen pulled you in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, your hands went behind his neck and deepened the kiss. When he pulled away he looked at you, “I love you baby, so much.” 

You noticed it was close to 1pm, “Jensen, Alex said he’d be back at 1 to get me. What am I going to do?” “You get ready to go home, I’ll handle him.” He kissed your head, helped you out of bed and to the shower. You got in and showered so you could get ready to go home. Jensen walked to the nurses station, “Hey, good afternoon. My girlfriend is about to go home, and her ex has been bothering her. Is there any way we can prevent him from getting in here?” The nurse looked at Jensen and smiled, “Of course we can. I’ll get security here to talk to you.” ‘Thank you, ma’am.” 

Jensen stood at the desk waiting. The head security guard came and the two of them talked. He assured Jensen, Alex would be stopped at the door and prevented entry. Jensen thanked him and returned to your room. 

You had just finished getting dressed when Jensen walked in. “Everything is set, sweetheart. Security is going to stop Alex. Now, let’s go home.” The two of you gathered your stuff and discharge papers and headed out. You waited at the front entrance for Jensen to bring the truck around. As you stood waiting, you heard someone call your name. 

You turned and saw Alex walking up. “Hey baby, ready to go home?” He asked. “Alex, I’m not going with you. I told Jensen everything and he and I are going home. So, please leave.” Alex grabbed your arm and started to pull you towards his car, “I told you, you’re mine! I own you!” You jerked your arm away “Get off of me!” You screamed. Alex slapped you across your face. Before you could process what was happening Jensen had pounced on Alex. He was punching him. You were trying to pull Jensen off. “Jens, please stop! He’s not worth it.” Security came running out and pulled Jensen off. They detained both Alex and Jensen. You sat down crying. 

The police showed up and took statements, Alex was charged with assault and attempted kidnapping and taken to jail. Jensen wasn’t charged because he was defending you. He walked over to you, put his arm around you and kissed your forehead, “Come on baby, let’s go home. The kids are waiting for you.” 

You nodded and climbed in the truck. There was a pregnant silence that fell between the two of you. Your mind started racing. Then Jensen broke the silence, “Y/N, you know you losing your baby wasn’t punishment, right?” Your eyes pricked with tears, “I’m not sure about that. Even after I lost the baby I couldn’t get pregnant again. I’m sure I’m not supposed to have any babies of my own because I took someone else’s away.” Jensen’s heart broke. “Oh baby, it doesn’t work like that. I promise it doesn’t. I’m okay with trying if you want to. I don’t care if we’re not married.” 

You looked at Jensen wide eyed, “You’d really want to have a baby with me. Even after all of this?” Jensen pulled the truck over and put it in park. He climbed out, walked to your door and opened it. Reaching in he unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you out of the truck. Taking your face in his hands he locked eyes with you. “I love you, more than anything. I want to marry you and have children with you. Damnit I was going to wait.”  He reached behind you and pulled out a small velvet box. Your breath hitched. 

Jensen got on one knee, took your hands in his and looked at you. “Y/N, you came into my life unexpectedly and at a time the kids and I really needed you. You had no idea how broken we were. The day you had pictures made for my kids I knew right then I was completely and irrevocably in love with you. You are my home. I love you today, tomorrow and forever. I’d be honored if you’d do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife. Will you marry me?” 

Tears streamed down your face and you pulled him up and kissed him. His lips still on yours he chuckled, “so is that a yes?” You laughed, “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you!” He slid the diamond on your finger and pulled you back into his arms. 

The two of you got back in the truck and headed home. Once inside the kids came running up to you and hugged you. They helped you over to the couch. You smiled at Jensen, who looked at his children, “Hey guys, Y/N and I need to tell you something.” 

Part 7….coming soon. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

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@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 43: Oscar Scandal

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Reader (24)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Following the unexpected news, Lucy took the rest of the day of to accompany you home . It was a silent car ride, with Lucy checking on you, every now and then with a gentle smile, trying to reassure you. She knew how overwhelmed and frightened you were feeling.

"It's alright babe, I'm here for you and Cillian will be too. He asked you to move in with him so, clearly, he is serious about you," Lucy observed with a small, supportive smile, her eyes twinkling with warmth and understanding as she parked her car outside the apartment building.

"Being serious about us and being ready to start a family are two different things, Lu," you said as you took a deep breath and slipped out of the passenger seat.

"I know that, but realistically, he is almost fifty and he might not actually have that much time to start a family again, so perhaps this is a blessing in disguise," Lucy smiled gently as she walked you to the entrance of the building where you now lived with Cillian, at least for now.

A sudden wave of nerves and fear washed over you. How do you tell Cillian that not only had you been pregnant for quite some time, yet unbeknownst to yourself, but that he would be a father sooner than he might have anticipated. The gravity of the situation suddenly hit you, leaving you feeling weak and almost powerless, like the wind had been knocked out of you.

"I don't know how to tell him," you said, your voice shaking a little as you confessed your fears.

Lucy put her arm around you, giving you a warm, reassuring hug. "Why don't you take a moment for yourself and then let's figure out the best course of action, okay? This might seem overwhelming now, but I promise you it will all work out in the end," Lucy proclaimed, her smile continuing to exude warmth and understanding.

With that, the two of you walked into the apartment building and headed towards Cillian's apartment.

Lucy held onto your arm, offering silent support as you made your way inside, looking pale and featuring a tear-streaked face. 

Upon reaching the apartment, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for the talk you knew you had to have with Cillian, although you did not expect him to be home just yet.

Unfortunately for you, however, you were mistaken. He had returned home much earlier than expected and was already waiting for you when you entered the apartment with Lucy. He was cooking dinner, but as soon as he saw you, he sensed your distress and immediately stopped what he was doing.

"What's wrong?" Cillian asked, his expression concerned as he took in your appearance. He could see that you were upset, and he knew that something was troubling you and quickly walked over to where you had stopped. 

"I... I," you simply stammered, your voice faltering slightly as you looked away from him, focusing on the floorboards. 

"Should I go?" Lucy whispered, understanding that you probably needed some privacy for this kind of conversation with your boyfriend.

You nodded, still shaken, and Lucy backed away slowly, keeping a watchful eye on your every move.

Once Lucy left the apartment, Cillian stepped closer and wrapped his arms gently around you, pulling you into a warm, loving embrace

"Y/N, please tell me what's wrong," he begged, his voice full of concern as he stroked your hair.

You pulled back slightly, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater before taking a deep breath. "Cillian...I need to tell you something," you said quietly.

Seeing the apprehension in your eyes, he frowned. "What is it?" he asked, holding you tightly before motioning to towards the couch. 

You nodded, stammering some incoherent words and sat down, taking a deep breath before turning to face him. "I... I don't know how to fucking tell you this, but...," you began to cry .

Cillian, still holding your hands, frowned in concern as he listened quietly. "Y/N, please tell me what's going on," he urged softly.

You took a deep shaky breath, looking up at Cillian through tear-filled eyes. "I...I'm pregnant," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you delivered the news and, immediately, Cillian's face turned pale as well.

His jaw dropped and silence descended between you two, the gravity of the situation hovering over you.

Cillian looked stunned. He blinked hard and glanced around the room, trying to process the information.

You watched him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you waited for him to say something, anything.

But he just sat there, not moving or speaking.

It seemed as though the words had paralyzed him. You could see the myriad emotions playing out across his face, surprise, shock, disbelief, and uncertainty - all swirling in those piercing blue eyes. Eventually, he blinked again, as if waking from a stupor.

"Okay, uhm, well, that's ... wow, I mean, we had a few close calls but, fuck...," Cillian stammered, trying to gather his thoughts. His heart felt like it was pounding a hole in his chest, and he could feel a lump forming in his throat.

You reached out and touched his face, feeling the familiar lines that marked Cillian's handsome, age-worn visage glow under your fingertips before breaking out in tears once again. 

"I am halfway through the pregnancy already. I can't even terminate. I would have fallen pregnant before the accident already and...I, I am so fucking scared Cillian. I am not ready for this and I am so sorry...," you whispered with a shuddering sigh, your tears falling silently down your cheeks as you looked anxiously up at him.

Cillian let go of your hands and reached up to gently wipe away your tears, an unreadable expression on his face. 

"Sshh, it's okay. It's okay," he whispered, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you protectively. "We can figure this out Y/N," he reassured, with a tone that spoke of calm, measured confidence despite the bewildered expression that still lingered in his eyes.

Your heart pounded louder and wilder in your chest, making it difficult to breathe. What should you do? After all, it wasn't just your life that changed with this surprise pregnancy, but also Cillian's. 

"I am not ready to be a mother, Cillian. I have plans. A career and," you began to say

to Cillian, neglecting to finish the sentence as you felt a lump form in your throat. "This...This changes everything," you sighed, turning away from him and looking out the window instead.

Cillian pulled you towards him once more, comforting you by running his hand through your hair. "It does change everything, yes, but not necessarily for the worse. You will be an excellent mother, you will see and I can take a year off, be a stay at home dad, so that you can finish med-school . I know that you have always wanted to achieve this, and you still will," Cillian said, his eyes shining with determination as he watched the tears stream down your face. You closed your eyes and sighed, feeling a wave of gratitude and warmth towards him.

"I love you," you said, whispering the words in between your sobs, clutching him tighter.

Cillian smiled against your hair, feeling his heart swell with love.

"I love you too Y/N and I know that we can do this," Cillian whispered, and he held you a little tighter with every word uttered.

You listened to him, taking in his words of comfort and reassurance. Each sentence was like a gentle caress that calmed and soothed you down, alleviating the heaviness weighing down on your heart.

As he reiterated his love for you, you let out a shaky sigh, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. Despite everything, he was there for you, expressing his willingness to stand by your side - no matter what.

"Plus, you will probably look absolutely incredible with, well, my child inside you,"  Cillian joked, breaking the tension that had filled the room for what seemed like an eternity.

You snorted and looked up at him, your eyes still glazed with unshed tears. "Stop it, you will make me cry again and stain your t-shirt even more," you said, with a small, feeble smile.

Cillian leaned in and gently pressed his lips to your forehead. "I don't mind you ruining my shirt, I just want you to be okay. I want us to be okay," he whispered, with his arms still wrapped protectively around you.

The words rang in your ears, giving you a sense of comfort, despite the chaos of emotions coursing through you.

"We will be, I promise," you whispered back, burying your face into his chest and wrapping your arms around him tightly as if clinging to the one steady thread in the whirlwind that had become your world.

Cillian's body felt warm and safe; his heart thrumming steadily against your cheek provided an anchor preventing you from becoming completely lost in the raging sea of anxiety within you.

"I know this might be poor timing but, since you are half-way along already, I am curious, do you know what we are having?" Cillian asked cautiously, steering the conversation cautiously towards potential positives that could help lighten the mood. You looked up at him, feeling a surge of hope inside you.

"I...yes, I do," you replied shyly, still huddled in his embrace.

Cillian's face lit up with a smile, the weight of his worry fading away as you nodded.

"And?" Cillian questioned, a hint of mischievousness in his voice.

"It's a boy," you announced, a small, surprised smile appearing on your lips as the words escaped. You hadn't realized just how curious you had been about the sex of the baby yourself, but now that you knew, the weight of this growing life inside you suddenly felt a little bit lighter, like a tiny ray of sunshine breaking through clouds of uncertainty.

Cillian's face lit up at this revelation and he ran his hand through his hair, a proud smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, I think I can handle that, "he chuckled and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"I still don't even know how this happened. I swear, I rarely ever forgot to take my pill and the chances were astronomical really," you told Cillian, your voice cracking as you tried to convey your feelings, but Cillian managed to take it with some humor. 

"Well, I guess that even at my age, I still have some strong swimmers," he laughed at his own weak attempt of a joke, and you could help but roll your eyes even more.

"You are an idiot," you said affectionately, leaning back against him, a small, feeble smile appearing on your lips. 

The following day, after some vivid dreams and long conversations with Cillian about your collective future as a family, Cillian and you met with your stylist Gared again in preparation for the Academy Awards. 

You had decided that, for now, you would keep the pregnancy under wraps as Cillian was a little concerned about a backlash from the press as well as some hatred from his son Max. 

Yes, you were well aware of the father-son tension between the two, and while you wanted to believe that Max would one day come around, you knew it was better to proceed with caution.

And so, you did not mention a single word to Gared and Cillian's team either, but they quickly picked up on a few cues.

For starters, you needed a new dress as the one that had been prepared for you  initially now did not fit you.

"You, my girl, have put on some weight," Gared said honestly, but with a chuckle in his voice, as he began ushering you into a dressing room with his assistant Mary to assist you.

Whilst your weight gain was not really something you had picked up on before, the black gown you chose was rather snug around your abdomen now and even though you did not think that you were showing yet, it was more difficult for Gared's assistant to close up the zipper on the back of the dress.

You let out a sigh, feeling self-conscious as she worked to get the zipper to attach securely just before Gared looked through the dressing room, sighing deeply and shaking his head. He knew that this was not going to work and so did you.

Gared looked thoughtful at you for a moment before stepping out again and darting his eyes towards Cillian.

"Is she...?" was all he said to him and, before he could even finish the question, Cillian nodded quietly. 

"Yes, she is pregnant, " he whispered, his eyes shifting away from his assistant's inquiring gaze as she too had now overhead the conversation between her employer and his stylist.

"Fast work, man. Congrats," Gared quipped, clapping Cillian on the shoulder with a big grin before comparing some shirt options for Cillian. 

"Thanks," Cillian responded quietly. "But let's keep this under the wraps for now, alright? We don't need any more drama at the moment," Cillian said to Gared, shooting him a pointed look.

"Well, if you want to keep the rumors from surfacing during the Awards, she will need a new dress man. She looks pregnant," Gared replied matter-of-factly as you stepped out of the dressing room, looking deflated.

"This is bullshit. I look like a bloated whale and nothing fits right," you exclaimed, feeling the frustration build within you.

"You don't Y/N. You look as stunning as ever," Cillian reassured you with a smile, but his words failed to calm the tempest brewing in your mind. The uncertainty had taken root inside you, burrowing itself deep within your heart.

"Cillian, let's just be realistic here. I cannot wear this dress. Why didn't you tell me that I look like..., you know, ...never mind," you huffed, upset about the fact that you hadn't picked up on how your body had changed in recent weeks. You had put these changes back to the accident, the medication you were taking and the change in your routine, but even just that kilo more made all the difference in the world when it came to wearing that dress.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, a frown etched on your face. The black gown made you feel fat, but when Cillian stepped up behind you, and placed his hands on your belly, your mood shifted slightly.

"I think you look incredible, like this, pregnant with my child," he whispered in your ear, so soft and tender that it brought a tear to your eye.

"But I still can't wear this dress Cillian," you repeated, feeling vulnerable with his hands still resting on your belly. The intimacy of the moment made your heart race and your head spin.

"Okay, then let's find you something else," he smiled while Gared was already on the phone with one of the London designers he often worked with.

Within hours, a few more dresses were sourced for you, and by late afternoon, you stood once again in front of the mirror, examining your reflection critically. One dress in particular caught your eye: a shimmering black gown that draped elegantly over your curves, accentuating your little belly slightly without drawing attention to it.

"That's it!" you exclaimed, your eyes shining and Gared nodded in approval. 

"I think that dress looks fantastic," he confirmed and Cillian, too, smiled approvingly, admiration glistening in his eyes. "And the best thing is that she can wear flats with it without anyone noticing," he chuckled, seeing how you were not yet capable of wearing heels again, not after the accident anyway. 

***

Days later, you of course, got to wear that dress again , for the Oscars. You felt radiant and beautiful for the first time in a very long time as you looked at yourself in the mirror right before leaving the hotel.

Cillian was nervous, although he pretended not to be and when you first laid eyes on him in his suit, you couldn't help but smile at how handsome he looked. He had aged so gracefully, gaining a silvered cast to his hair, he exuded an air of sophistication and maturity.

"Fuck you look hot in that suit," you told  him, walking up to him and admiring his simple yet elegant attire. The sleek black bowtie set off his eyes, bringing out their piercing blue hue, and you found yourself gazing into them for a moment too long, losing yourself in their depths.

"Uhm, thanks, I guess," he chuckled, blushing slightly since Gared was in the room with you too, applying some finishing touches to Cillian's hair while you stole a kiss from him.

"No no, hands off him. Don't you mess up the make up," Gared  scolded good-naturedly as you playfully tugged on Cillian's tie, trying to steal another kiss from him. 

"Sorry, sorry. I'll behave," you whispered before kissing your man one last time. "He just looks so handsome, you know," you added, walking past Gared to grab your clutch and purse.

As you were about to leave the hotel room, heading to the awaiting limousine, your phone beeped, indicating a new message. You retrieved your phone from your purse and skimmed through the text. It was Lucy, your best friend, wishing Cillian the best of luck and telling you how good you were going to look tonight, since you had sent her a photo earlier.

"Everything alright?" Cillian asked as he saw you frowning slightly.

"Yes, everything is fine. It's just Lucy. She is wishing you good luck for the evening, even though you really don't need it. You've got this," you replied, putting your phone back in your purse, before turning your attention back to Cillian and giving him a reassuring smile.

"And I think you are overconfident," Cillian chuckled, still thinking that there was no way he would win, but in the end, winning he did. 

Hours later, the category for Best Actor was Cillian's and he looked completely dazed as he took to the stage to collect his award.

You sat there clutching your own hands, suppressing your own excitement as he stumbled his way through his acceptance speech. You couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for Cillian as he stood at the podium, beaming with love and appreciation, thanking his family, Max and then you at the end of his speech which made your heart flutter and warmed you beyond words.

You were extremely proud of him and his accomplishments, but at the same time, you knew the weight this award brought upon him. There was not going to be any more privacy for him or you soon as his career had entered a whole new level of stardom, and the public would be even more eager to know about his personal life.

And so it happened that, just days after the awards, a whole new article surfaced, evaluating the relationship between the two of you as something rather inappropriate and shameful. 

Oscar Winner Cillian Murphy's Strange Dating Habits

In the world of glamour and fame, it seems that every Oscar winner has a few skeletons lurking in their closet. And this year, Cillian Murphy, who received his first ever Academy Award this week, is facing the heat like never before.

The actor had already been at the centre of a scandal that began earlier this year when the details of an affair had surfaced and the plot then thickened when his ex-wife, Danielle Murphy, was charged with assault against the unidentified woman reportedly involved with Cillian.

Now, the mystery about the actor’s unnamed love interest has been unravelled, and the truth is more scandalous than anyone could have imagined.

During the Academy Awards three days ago, Cillian made headlines not just for his cinematic achievements in his role as J Robert Oppenheimer, but also for his controversial decision to attend the event with the new woman in his life, med-student Y/N Y/LN.

Y/N Y/LN is in her early twenties and happens to be no other than the former girlfriend of Cillian’s son, Max Murphy. Yes, you read that right. Cillian Murphy not only cheated on his wife, but he did so with his son’s former girlfriend. Talk about keeping it in the family!

Sources close to the family reveal that Max is livid with his father, feeling betrayed by the man who raised him. “It’s one thing to cheat on my mom, but to do it with my girlfriend? That’s beyond despicable,” Max told reporters yesterday after having been asked to comment.

The affair, which began about five months ago, took a darker turn when Danielle discovered the truth. Fuelled by rage and heartbreak, her alleged assault on Y/N Y/LN was a desperate cry for justice in a situation that left her feeling utterly betrayed.

As the story unfolds, many are left wondering about the implications of this scandal for Cillian Murphy's career and personal life. The actor has long been regarded as a family man, and this revelation has shattered that image for many fans. The situation has also raised questions about the ethics of dating within circles of family and friends, particularly when it involves such a complicated web of relationships.

What do you think? Let us know your thoughts by commenting beneath the article.

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[cantstoptheimagines]

Curador (Muerte | Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

Series Masterlist 

Summary — Muerte aches at the sight of you whenever he comes home.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Soulmate AU; helping a lover with their injuries (includes mentions of blood); established relationship; takes place directly after the movie; writers’ law states that every time an animated wolf comes into existence, I must write a fic; in my opinion, we should be calling him ‘Muerte’, so that’s what I’m going with; a huge thank you to my dear friend, Yoshino, for helping me with the Spanish translations.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 639. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ You will receive the same injuries as your soulmate (unless deadly).  ➳ Since Muerte is Death (straight up), why not make Life? I envision the Reader in this to be a spotted deer, who will be referred to as ‘Vida’. And who knows? I might turn this into a one-shot series if people enjoy it enough. Let me know what you think! 

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  

The slamming of a door made your ears twitch. You paused, eyes narrowing as you listened to the creaking floors within your home. A damp cloth was pressed against the corner of your lip, dotted with small specks of blood. 

Footsteps slowly grew closer to your room. A quiet sigh escaped your lips when you realized who they belonged to. Having a lover with nearly silent movements did nothing but cause you panic sometimes. 

You returned your attention to the small mirror in your grasp. A shadow moved about the room and a cloak was tossed next to you on the bed. Looking up at the towering figure in front of you, your gaze found red eyes staring back at you. More specifically, staring at the cloth against your lip. 

“El gato lives,” he muttered, his deep voice sending shivers along your spine. “I have given him another opportunity to prove himself.” 

A small smile made itself known, “Is that why your attitude seems so foul?”

He hummed quietly, ignoring your teasing remark about the infamous Puss in Boots, whom he had been chasing for some time now. His startling eyes were still zeroed in on the cloth. 

“You really need to stop playing with your food, Muerte.” 

His eyes snapped to yours. They narrowed into slits, shining with irritation. He snapped his jaws to the side, huffing loudly as he looked away from you. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing quietly.

His claws wrapped around the hilt of one of his sickles. The mirror was quickly tugged away from you and tossed onto the bed. Your head was forced to tilt backwards as the sickle’s sharp blade was placed beneath your chin. 

Anyone else may have had fear coursing through their veins. You, however, weren’t worried at all. 

Muerte stepped closer until his paw could replace the blade. The sickle was quickly returned to its sheath while he looked down at you with a blank expression. You allowed him to tilt your head back even further as he took up the space between your thighs.

“Cállate, Vida,” he ordered.

His claws wrapped around the cloth, finally removing it from your lip. It, much like his cloak and your mirror, quickly disappeared from sight. Your injury reflected his own, signaling to the world that the two of you were a perfect pair. 

“It hurt when you got it,” you said. “I wasn’t expecting it.” 

His expression softened. You leaned into his touch as one of his claws caressed your cheek.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he muttered.

You gave him a small smile, along with a shrug of the shoulders, in an attempt to make him feel better, “It’s okay. No harm truly done.”

His grip loosened, allowing you to take his paw into your grasp and hold it in your lap instead. He lowered himself to his knees. Due to his tall stature, kneeling allowed his gaze to become even with your own as you sat on the bed.

“Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso,” he continued. “Por tu bien.” 

“I don’t,” you replied, squeezing his paw tightly. 

His brow furrowed and his eyes searched for any sign that you may have been lying to comfort him, “Mi corazón—” 

“It lets me know you’re still there,” you whispered. “It lets me know you’ll be coming home soon.” 

He tried to hide a smile, looking away from you. That only lasted for mere seconds, however, since he couldn’t resist your gaze for very long. His red eyes explored your features. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the cut on your lip. 

“Déjame ser tu curador,” he muttered, and then he kissed you again.

“Always, Muerte,” you whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek and pressing a gentle kiss against his nose. “Always.” 

Spanish Translations, In Order of Appearance: ➳ Curador (de enfermos) — Meaning “healer (of the sick)”.  ➳ Muerte — Meaning “death”. ➳ Vida — Meaning “life”.

➳ “El gato...” — “The cat...” ➳ “Cállate...” — “Shut up...” ➳ “Lo siento, mi amor.” — “I’m sorry, my love.”  ➳ “Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso... Por tu bien.” — “I wish we had a less painful bond... For your sake.” ➳ “Mi corazón...” — “My heart...”  ➳ “Déjame ser tu curador.” — “Let me be your healer.” 

[mae-is-crazy]

Wow. This is it. This is the final installment to (what I wasn’t expecting to be a series) Tiny Hands. Thank you to the original requester (who submitted their request anonymous) for giving me my kickstart on this platform. Thank you to all of the readers for your funny comments that pushed me to continue writing. I cannot wait to show you what else I have in store. So (will a word count well over my expectations) I present to you TINY HANDS PART III

Tiny Hands (Neteyam x Fem! Human Reader) Part III

Synopsis: One life ends. Another begins.

(This story is unedited. Edits will be conducted at a later time).

Neteyam wakes in the middle of the night without Y/N at his side.

The first thing that hit him was confusion. He figured she had just scurried off to check her Avatar body (like it had just woken up and walked away, which of course wasn’t possible). Nothing to worry about. He mentally shrugged to himself, before snuggling deeper into the mattress and closing his eyes.

The next thing was fear. Neteyam’s ears perked up towards the bathroom door when he heard light sniffling on the other side. He sat up, giving himself a second to catch himself before he heard a quiet sob. Without even thinking, the boy leapt from his spot, tossing the blanket too small for his frame aside and almost slamming into the door. It was locked.

“Y/N?” He croaked, hating how weak his voice sounded. He knocked on the door a few times as he rested his head against the door. “Y/N, are you alright?”

The soft crying sounds stopped, but he got no answer. He knocked again. “Y/N?”

“I-I’m okay.”

Relief. He sighed, letting his forehead laze on the door. “Please, let me see you.”

Neteyam listened for the sound of her breathing. It sounded more like hiccups. She didn’t open the door for a few minutes, but when he heard the lock click, Neteyam wasted no time as he slammed the door opened, looking for his Y/N.

What he saw shattered his heart. Y/N was hovering over the sink, her hands covering her trembling lips that threatened to let out more sobs. Her eyebrows danced up and down as they scrunched together, tears staining her already deathly pale skin.

God, she looked terrible.

“Oh Y/N…” Neteyam stepped closer, kneeling down to her level and letting her collapse into him. She wrapped her bony arms around his broad shoulders, resting her head into the crook of his neck as she continued her bout of crying. Neteyam held the girl close, resting his head on top of hers as he sent her soothing shushes and back rubs. He tried to tell her the things she loved to hear- “It’s okay”, “Maway (BE CALM)”, “I’m right here”- the things that settled her down. But the frantic huffing did not stop.

Neteyam forced Y/N to pry her arms from around his neck, He cupped her face in his hands, brushing away the tears from her red cheeks. “Tell me. Tell me what is going on.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to hide her face with her hands, though Neteyam was quick to peel them away, squeezing them around his own. “Nete, I-I-I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

Y/N waved her arms around her in a flustered frenzy. “This whole thing is just becoming too much. I-I can’t think straight.” She turned towards the mirror, cringing at the red puffy skin circling her glassy eyes. Neteyam stared at her reflection, noticing how even kneeling his forehead reached past the view of the glass. He studied the girl not even half his size here to him, the girl he promised to protect for as long as she had lived.

In this life, or another.

In this body, or another.

It no longer mattered to him.

Neteyam cleared his throat, watching Y/N wipe her nose. All this time, she’d been persistent about seeing this thing through and joining The People as full Na’vi. She never showed any sign of doubt or weakness, even throughout all of the needles and painful reactions to medications Neteyam could never pronounce correctly. But now, finally, after all this time, she allowed herself to share with her lover what he always knew was there.

“I can promise you she’s more scared than she lets on. She needs someone to be there for her.”

Neteyam rested his head on Y/N’s chest, her heartbeat settling, but only slightly. “What worries you? Why now?”

Y/N played with Neteyam’s hands, measuring the length from her wrist to the tip of their middle fingers. Neteyam grinned lightly at her childish toying. “You were right.”

“What do you mean?”

Y/N looked away from her reflection with a scowl. “People haven’t come back in the past. I’m just worried that’ll happen to me too.”

Neteyam sighed heavily through his nose, nodding with understanding. He wondered what his father was thinking his last night as a human. Knowing that everything you knew about yourself and your lifestyle would be forever and irreversibly changed. Knowing that it could kill him. There were no takebacks with this.

“I do not believe Eywa brought us together just to take you away from me,” Neteyam reassured.

Y/N dropped her hands to her side, her crying subsided. She leaned more into Neteyam’s body with a weak yawn, and he took that as his signal to head back to bed.

There was no way for Neteyam to reassure Y/N. There was nothing he could say or do to prove to her that she would be his no matter what happened. At the end of the day, it was them against the world.

When the two settled in bed, Neteyam tucked a loose strand of Y/N’s hair from her face, looking deep into her still somewhat teary eyes. She stared at him with an intensity that had his heart fluttering.

“Try and get some sleep,” he whispered, planting a featherlike kiss on her forehead. She says something that’s muffled by her pillow.

She does sleep that night.

Neteyam doesn’t, waiting for her to wake up crying again with his arms ready to reach out and cradle her.

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

“You’re telling me you’ve never danced before?”

“Of course I have,” Neteyam says, taking a quick huff from his mask before stretching by the window. The day was early, the sun just barely reaching past the mighty trees of Pandora, but high enough to shine through the lab.

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the mattress. “Yeah, but not like that.” She points to the television, where a black and white film was playing. Neither of them was really watching it; the background audio was just an easy way to fix the thick tension and fear in the air. A human man and women stood underneath a lamp post in the pouring rain, hands interlocked and swaying to a light cello melody in the night.

Neteyam scratched the back of his neck, bringing her a small steaming portion of chowder. It was the only food Y/N could keep down lately, much to the girl’s distaste. She stuck her tongue out as he sat next to her, handing her the bowl. He nudged her, encouraging her to take a bite.

“Last time I have to eat this crap,” Y/N huffed, scooping herself a pitiful amount and trying her best not to make a crunchy face at the bland flavors. “No, but seriously. That’s just sad.”

“What? The food or my lack of human dance knowledge?”

“Both.”

Neteyam chuckled, focusing on the two Sky People. The television was fuzzy and jittered every few seconds, but he could made out the particular choreograph, gliding to the side, watching for each other’s shoes. The women’s head rested on her man’s shoulders, letting him hold one of her hands while the other rested on her back.

The Na’vi boy stood up, holding a hand out to Y/N. She sat back, tilting her head as he stepped in front of the screen.

“Dance with me.”

“What?” She giggled with a mouthful of chowder. Nevertheless, she set her bowl aside, taking his hand and standing up. Her legs gave out on her, and with a ‘Whoop!’, she came tumbling down, not before Neteyam studied her, helping her regain her balance. He looked at the T.V. once more, watching the pattern the actor’s set themselves on with their foot placement.

Neteyam lifted the girl off the ground, letting her wrap her arms as tight as she could around his neck as he set his arms across her back. He took slow steps, feeling her feet brush against his knees with each step. Y/N sighed into Neteyam’s body, letting herself go limp in his hold.

God, he would miss this. Holding her close like this, her itty-bitty body against his large frame.

Y/N hummed along to the tune, a tune Neteyam was not yet familiar with. It wasn’t like any of the instruments they had back at home, nor was it as feverish or fast-paced. It made swaying to the song chords feel like floating in water. Effortless and natural. It soothed the young couple’s hearts.

Neteyam and Y/N kept this up even after the movie finished, when the main menu song would loop itself every twenty seconds. Eventually that shut itself off too, leaving the only sounds in the room being Neteyam’s light footsteps and the two’s rhythmed breathing.

Y/N tightened her hold around Neteyam. “You know I love you, right?”

Neteyam’s heart fluttered, and he could hear his tail tap against the mattress at he continued dancing. “Yes.”

“I just wanted to remind you.”

He pulled away from the girl, bending down to her level to cup her face in his hands. She looked unnervingly dull, trying her best to give him a smile but failing miserably.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured her (and himself). “I know it.”

All she could do was nod.  

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

The night had come.

Jake walked in front, forming a path for Neteyam as he carried Y/N bridal style close to his chest. She shyly kept her face hidden; her bare body being just barely covered up with vines from the woods. She was quiet the entire trip leaving the lab, through the Omaticaya village, and to the base of the Tree of Souls. Jake approached the roots of the grand tree first, carrying Y/N’s limp Avatar body in his own arms, gently placing the lifeless body on the ground.

He turned to his son with a firm nod, stepping aside as Mo’at came into view, watching Neteyam hesitantly set Y/N down. For a moment, she didn’t release her hold around his neck.

“Woah,” she whispered to herself, looking at the massive crowd behind Neteyam. The entire clan was sit cross crossed on the mossy landscape. Neteyam didn’t bother looking, prying her fingers apart and off of his back. She tried to sit up until Mo’at placed a light hand on her shoulder, a gentle demand to lay down. Neteyam watched fog begin to build up in her mask as she breaths became heavier and erratic.

He pet her hair, leaning close to her ear so that only she could hear him. “I love you so much Y/N. I am so proud of you.”

She chuckled nervously, reaching a trembling hand and grasping ahold oh his. He held her tiny hands in his large ones, holding them tight with a weak smile. He needed to be strong for her.

Strong heart.

No fear.

“You will sleep now,” Mo’at announced, and on cue, Y/N’s eyelids grew heavier. At first, she tried to fight it, but Neteyam cupped a hand to her cheek, still holding one of her hands in his.

“See you in a minute,” he promised.

It looked like Y/N wanted to say something to him, but she never got that chance before letting her eyes shut and her body fall asleep.

Neteyam held his breath now, allowing himself to succumb to the fears that he’d been trying to hide from Y/N for years now.

It was all in Eywa’s hands now.

“Ting mikun ayoheru rutze,” Mo’at began as The People swayed in unison. Everyone rested a hand on each other’s shoulders as the ground began pulsating to a beat, almost like a heartbeat.

“Srung si poeru, Ma Eywa,” the clan spoke together. The bioluminescent ground beneath them rippled to the base of the Spirit Tree. Spider watched from afar, as he was not allowed to partake in the sacred event, keeping to himself as she silently sent prayers for his sister.

Neteyam continued to kneel by her side, mumbling to Eywa as he wished for his lover to come back to him. He watched with teary eyes as both Y/n’s human and Avatar bodies lay unconscious. A lit of undergrowth rose from the ground, connecting to the back of both vessel’s necks.

To most all around him, Neteyam was extremely calm. Though Jake and Neytiri could see the boy’s face, and they too began to fear not only for Y/N but for their son.

They knew that, if he didn’t have Y/N, their son would be gone forever.

What if this was the last time he got to see her beautiful eyes?

What if he could never show her the true wonders of Pandora? Never see their secret world in the floating mountains, to show her how to fly her own Ikran, to never watch her eyes light up as she connected to the Tree of Souls for the first time.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

And Neytiri understood every single thing he was feeling.

“Pori tireati, munge mí ngai” Mo’at continued, waving her hands over Y/N’s human body and dancing them to the Avatar body a few steps to the left.

The clan continued to repeat themselves, much louder this time in hopes their words could be heard by their goddess. “Srung si poeru, Ma Eywa!”

Netyeam could feel himself breaking out in a nervous sweat, tightening his grip on her hand when he felt her fingers twitch ever so slightly.

“Ulte ting ayoer ni’eyng ngeyä ya! Tiviran po ayoekip! NA NA’VIYÄ HAPXI!” Neteyam’s grandmother stood over Y/N’s still Avatar body. Neteyam rested his forehead on the small hand he held, forcing his eyes closed in hopes of calming his pounding heartbeat.

Mo’at’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she lowered his voice, “Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia. Eo Eywa oe’ia.”

“Come on Y/N,” he whined gently. “Come back to me.”

He felt her hand go slack under his grip. He straightened his back, snapping his eyes shut. He saw how her chest stilled and the muscles in her body relaxed completely. Under less tense circumstances, he would’ve melted at how peaceful and innocent she looked.

But he wanted nothing more for her to wake up.

He shot a panicked face to Mo’at, who instantly snapped out of her trance, directing her calls of action to the clan before her, “Lu hasey!”

It was done.

All he could do was wait.

Jake was up in an instant, followed quickly by Neytiri, who placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. She felt like this was a sick joke, watching her son in the same stop she was all those years ago when it was her love. Everyone watched as the young to-be Olo’eyktan remove the human girl’s breathing mask, the seal going off with a sharp hiss and placing it aside. He connected his forehead to hers, already feeling how clammy her skin was. He placed his free hand on her face, a hand that was the size of her entire head.

Jake watched his eldest son give one last squeeze to Y/N’s hand before moving to the Avatar body on his left, positioning himself in the same spot next to her, reaching for a much larger, blue hand. It fell limp in his hold.

This was the first time he’d seen her Avatar body so close. His heart settled slightly when he saw the mole that had made if from her human body to her Avatar body. He placed a kiss on one of her cheeks, tilting his head as tears began to build in his eyes again. It blurred his vision, and he didn’t care that his family could now see that.

“Hey,” Neteyam spoke to the girl that couldn’t hear him. “Come back to me, Y/N. Everybody wants to meet you.”

Neytiri smiled at the boy’s words, beginning to hope herself to the new member to the clan to wake up.

Jake knew of the debilitating journey that was passing through the eyes of Eywa, but he would be there to welcome you with open arms, when you were ready.

And, after a few more minutes, it happened.

Neteyam could feel her hand twitch in his.

She let out a light moan as her eyes moved underneath her eyelids.

Then they opened.

It wasn’t the traditional Na’vi yellow or tawny. No, they were hers. He sent a silent thanks to Norm and Max for letting her keep another part of her past body. It was the same sparkling E/C she’d always had, and Neteyam couldn’t hide the light chuckle as he watched her eyes lazily wonder around her surroundings. She wiggled her feet and yawned, looking at her boyfriend.

“I told you everything would be okay,” Neteyam smiled.

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched together as she slowly moved her head to look around. Neteyam’s heart skipped a beat; had she forgotten where she was? Who she was?

Y/N took a deep breath, but immediately, stopped, her eyes widening in a fierce panic as she slapped her hands to cover her nose and mouth.

Neteyam shook his head, trying ot take her hands away from her face. “Hey her hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Breath.”

She shook her head, her eyes meeting the blue skin of his hands… or, her hands. She blinked once twice, three times, before pulling her hands away from her mouth. She gasped as she realized the large blue skin was now on her, apart of her, forever and always. Her mouth sat ajar, and Neteyam wasn’t sure what to do.

Jake could sense the nervous energy from his son, so he stepped closer. He crouched down next to his eldest son, giving a reassuring nod.

“How do you feel,” he asked.

Y/N looked into his eyes. They looked soft and inviting, and she looked over at Neytiri, she continued to receive welcoming smiles.

Though rumbly, Y/N gave him a light “I feel weird,”, resulting in a gentle laugh from both Jake and Neytiri.

Neteyam leaned his forehead against hers, each closing their eyes. She could feel his warm breath on her face, letting herself sink into his touch. “I’m so proud of you,” he told her.

That night, the Omaticaya people celebrated. They had a feast, crafting mouthwatering dishes for their blessing from Eywa herself, dancing to traditional songs into the night. Tuk dragged the girl around, showing her off to the tribe and bragging about how she’d braded the new clam mate’s hair shortly after her ceremony (the braids were terribly uneven, so Neytiri had to pull her aside and do them when her daughter wasn’t looking). Kiri and Lo’ak bickered when they tried to find the ‘perfect’ hammock for her to sleep in, but Neteyam silently know that they’d be sharing a space tonight. Spider couldn’t stay long, but he congratulated his older sister on her successful soul transfer.

Towards the end of the celebration, Neteyam and Y/N slipped away from the shriveling crowd.  They raced into the night sky, replaying the same motions that occurred all those years ago.

“God, I’ll never get over this,” Y/N huffed from behind Neteyam, clinging to him with a vice-like grip.

Neteyam shrugged teasingly. “You’re going to have to soon. You will need to get your own Ikran now that you’re Na’vi.”

“Why would I do that when I have you to fly me around?”

He turned to shot a playful grin, but caught himself when he looked into her eyes. Her braids thrashed in the wind as she kept her eyes sealed shut, though creasing her eyebrows at the sudden shift in Neteyam’s posture. He finally got a good look at her freckles, which were lighting up the night. The pattern rested mostly on her forehead, with only a few scattered along the bridge of her nose. There were even less on her cheeks, but her bright eyes made up for that. They were new and different compared to the standard Na’vi, and it made the girl all the more precious to Neteyam.

They landed gently on their secret floating rock, Neteyam hopping off first, reaching out to Y/N, only for her to scoot off the flying creature and stepping onto the ground by herself. She huffed before stretching, letting her bare feet graze the soft landscape. He watched her, only just noticing how he barely had to look down at her. Just this morning he was about at his hip height wise, but now he was maybe half a foot taller.

She met his eyes with a quick smile before taking the lead. “Man, I’ve missed this place.”

Neteyam hummed in agreement. He would never admit it, but he hadn’t returned since she’d gotten sick. It just didn’t sit right with him to savor this wondrous getaway while his other half was withering away, curled in pain in her dark and lonely bedroom.

She ducked over hanging branched, skipping through the feet as the world lit up with each step. She lightly brushed her fingertips against dense foliage, getting used to the way her arms stretched further than she was used to. She looked back at Neteyam with a wide smile, her shiny white fangs revealing themselves.

He quickened his pace, grabbing a hold of her tail and lightly tugging it, causing the girl to stop in her place and instinctively slap he boy on the arm. Neteyam gave a face pouty face, Y/N sticking his tongue out as she dashed into the night. For only being in her new body for a few hours, she was quickly getting the hand of it. Even Jake commented on it earlier, watching Lo’ak and her chase each other through the campgrounds like raging lunatics.

“Jesus, and I thought Lo’ak’s energy was enough,” he joked as he walked to bed with his mate. “That boy’s got his hands full with that one.”

When Y/N’s lungs could no longer keep up, she hunched over a familiar pond, resting her hands on her knees as she took deep breaths. Neteyam, who would run for many more miles, stopped at her side, grinning at the already exhausted girl.

“My feet hurt,” she spoke in between breaths.

“Your body is still like a baby. You need to take it easy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, straightening herself out. She collected her breathing with a weak chuckle, feeling her heartbeat relax.

But it quickly sped up again. The deep intensity in Neteyam’s narrowed eyes made the air feel thicker. He moved closer, their chests almost brushing against each other as she planted both of his hands on her waist. She reached around him, putting her head on his chest. His heartbeat was going the same speed at hers.

“Y/N,” he whispered her name like it was a secret. Her knees practically went weak from underneath her.

“Neteyam.”

Then… she started swaying?

She moved her head up, forgetting how much taller she was now and almost whacking his chin, His freckles doing a terrible job at hiding the light blush developing up his neck and to his cheeks. Y/N used every fiber in her body to lock her eyes on his mesmerizing eyes and not down at his lips, which were slightly agape.

The two began stepping every few seconds, Y/N still unsure of what was happening.

Neteyam’s chest rumbled against Y/N as he began humming a tune, and then it hit her like a train.

It was the same song from the movie this morning. Of the two people slow dancing into the night, bathed in light as they embraced in one of the most intimate forms of love.

Y/N gave Neteyam a goofy, toothy grin, letting herself pick up on the tune. She accidentally stepped on the taller man’s toes with a quick apology, which he didn’t even adnowledge. He removed one hand from her hip, placing a tender brush of his palm against her cheek. The two stared at each other, a newfound appreciation and respect for one another.

After all they’d been through, they finally made it.

After many nights of tears, pain, uncertainty, the two young Na’vi never crumbled under pressure.

They two could now live comfortably as one, just as Eywa had planned all along.

Neteyam planted a soft kiss on Y/N’s lips. It was delicate, like an insect’s wings, and they sat there just long enough to feel her warm skin against his. Between the two, kissing was their way of showing gratitude, respect, appreciation. From light pecks on the forehead every morning to more intense, intimate touching, the vulnerability the two shared with each other was a sensuous joining of souls, regardless of which body they housed.

Y/N pulled away first, flashing an innocent smile with wide eyes. “Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam.”

He breathed out, resting his forehead against hers as they continued swaying in a sloppy rhythm. The Pandorian wildlife was their personal symphony, playing the two lovebirds a one-of-a-kind tune. He rested his hands behind her back, just under her braided queue.

For the first night in years, Neteyam could finally breathe. Here, in this moment, on this perfect night, he had the most incredible women in his arms. He though about this night for many, many eclipses, wondering if they’d even make it this far. There were too many nights where he couldn’t sleep, only focusing on the frail human girl’s lumber some breathing. For the longest time, she couldn’t even walk out of her room without stopping to breathe, leaning against the doorframe as Neteyam rushed to her side to return her back to bed.

But now, she was here, standing on her own two feet, in this body much stronger than she ever was. She took in the air around her with no effort, no more tears of pain or fear of not waking up to see the next day. She was here, she was beautiful, she was alive. With him.

And he would make sure to keep it that way for as long as they lived.

“Oel ngati kameie, Y/N.”

(Bellow are the individuals that requested to be tagged when this finale released. Thanks guys!!)

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