#she really did not want to have four kids and you need two people to have a baby who kept CONVINCING her to do that
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Why do I get the sneaking suspicion that at the end of Joseph's route in DD his "talk" with Mary amounted to him convincing her to keep things together for the kids and his social image (because we know how easy it is to get a divorce in conservative Christian communities esp if you're a woman amirite).
Like people are real quick to throw the book (and the rest of the library) at Mary when she's evidently depressed enough to resort to substance abuse and can't even summon the energy to take care of her kids. She's just so very clearly at the end of her rope with all this and it ruffles me that people get more enraged with her flirting with other men while her husband has been going out and actually fucking them (potentially more than once).
And idk. The lived in state of the boat and how convinient the 'oh no we ran out of gas and the radios out!' thing was made me think my guy. This has happened before, hasn't it? Like you really didn't think to grab a backup canister of gas?
And if they got divorced what would she even do, is the house hers? Who owns it??
Idk I don't hate Joseph but i don't trust him either. I'm #teamWomen
#idk what it is about this game that makes me get my tinfoil hat on#I'm also team Robert and I wonder if he got the same oh yeah man I'm totally gonna divorce my wife don't worry#speech and the reason he hates Joseph so much is cause he was in the players shoes#AND Also notice how people lay the entire blame on Mary for not watching the kids#Funny I thought they had TWO parents#but jo gets to be the fun dad who socialises while Mary does everything else ig#Jesse rants excessively about a dating sim no one gives a shit about anymore#old man yells at cloud#Also I'm not fond of kids but like yikes#she really did not want to have four kids and you need two people to have a baby who kept CONVINCING her to do that
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pick of the crop | logan sargeant social media au
pairing: logan sargeant x fem farmer!reader
sometimes opposites attract so much that a city boy is willing to get mud on his trainers
based on this request: Logan sargeant x reader smau, where she’s like a farmer in the country, and people are surprised that they’re so different? - @indesicivelyconfuzzled
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?
logansargeant
liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 611,209 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargeant: never been so thankful for a two week break in the race calendar, farm time has been overdue.
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user1: did we just unlock the farmer version of logan
user2: real ones have known farmer logan since his f2 days
oscarpiastri: ugh... couple goals i guess
yourusername: you guess?
logansargeant: you wish you were us
yourusername: let's not pit two powerful women against each other
oscarpiastri: thank you y/n
yourusername: i was talking about me and lily, y'all can fight amongst yourselves
user3: you guys are fake as fuck cause why didn't you tell me logan has a gf
user4: a farmer gf ?!?!?!?
alexalbon: so i got heat from you for @albon_pets (follow me) but your gf has a whole ass farm?
logansargeant: and what? dodger would defo take otter in a fight
yourusername: stop the violence
alexalbon: see, this is why people are confused on how you guys got together
logansargeant: i'm just standing up for my dog child ?
yourusername: leave the children out of it
user5: idk how or when this happened but i am enjoying seeing another side of logan
user6: for real haven't seen his feral side since prema
user7: two weeks on a farm will do that to you
yourusername
liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 3,199 others
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yourusername: the y/ln farm takes the cota paddock, thanks @alexalbon for recommending fifi for the job of paddock drama queen
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user9: she brought a horse for her paddock debut ???
user10: idk about you guys but i am thoroughly enjoying whatever the fuck is going on right now
logansargeant: i think fifi did great (i think dan might be friends with us now)
yourusername: she's a gentle queen (omg we've made friends?)
danielricciardo: damn right you have a new friend what a STALLION
yourusername: you can ride her if you want :)
alexalbon: WE CAN?
landonorris: WE CAN?
maxverstappen1: i would like to ride the horsey
yukitsunoda0511: dan woke me up with his scream of joy so you're morally obligated to let me have a ride on fifi as well
logansargeant: well if i knew all i needed to do was bring y/n and fifi to the paddock to make friends they would've been at miami :(
user11: crying so the reports that logan was feeling really lonely were real?
user12: at least he has y/n?
oscarpiastri: cool kids have already ridden with fifi :)
logansargeant: you screamed the whole time?
oscarpiastri: semantics
danielricciardo: i'm outside williams hospitality let me in
yourusername: that was fast?
charles_leclerc: it's kinda in the job description (we're all here please let us in)
user13: the way all the teams are gonna be like where are all of our drivers and why are they all running away?
williamsf1
liked by yourusername, logansargeant and 610,994 others
tagged: logansargeant, alexalbon
williamsf1: austin you delivered !! logan and alex pick up three and four points each in logan's first points and our first double points finish of the season !!
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user14: someone tell y/n she's not allowed to go home, she's a williams employee now
liked by logansargeant
alexalbon: WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETRE I LOVE YOU AMERICA
logansargeant: 🤨🤨🤨🤨
alexalbon: don't lie you love the bit
logansargeant: no i think YOU love the bit
alexalbon: today i love YOU 😘
yourusername: 🤨🤨🤨🤨
alexalbon: i guess i love you too
yourusername: i would like to think so. don't think i didn't see you swipe a jar of marmalade
alexalbon: GUILTY
user15: williams points, maybe america isn't all bad ...
yourusername: home race did pretty boy so good :))))
logansargeant: idk i think you might just be my lucky charm and can never leave my side again
yourusername: what about the children logan :(
logansargeant: fuck dem kids
logansargeant: JOKES
oscarpiastri: 📸 📸 📸 got ur ass
logansargeant: why are you here?
oscarpiastri: i want naming rights of the next babies 😬
yourusername: logan :((((((( they have feelings :(((((
logansargeant: i'm sorry :( i just love you :(
yourusername: awwwwww i love you too
oscarpiastri: so can i name the next babies PLEASE
yourusername: you wanna give logan a tow next race?
oscarpiastri: fuck no
yourusername: then there's your answer
user16: what the fuck is going on here?
yourusername
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yourusername: there's no such thing as a snooze button here
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user17: FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN FARM LOGAN
user18: farm logan makes me weak in the knees
oscarpiastri: why are there two pictures of logan?
logansargeant: choke.
oscarpiastri: woah i didn't know comedy was illegal in texas
yourusername: to perform comedy you kinda need to be funny oscar
oscarpiastri: i am funny?
yourusername: sure ...
oscarpiastri: stop trying to look like a nice gf on the internet you make fun of him just as much as i do
logansargeant: she did say that she prefers dermot over 'my ass'
yourusername: LOL sorry logan....
landonorris: am i dumb?
oscarpiastri: yes :)
yourusername: ass is another way to refer to a donkey lando
landonorris: ohhhh. in that case i am a massive donkey
yourusername: oh that's not...
user19: y/n having to deal with more than logan and oscar will kill her i fear
alexalbon: SHEEP PLEASE BRING SHEEP NEXT RACE PLEASE I LOVE SHEEP
yourusername: you good?
alexalbon: i love sheep. sue me
yourusername: we actually host sheep cuddle session at the farm lol
logansargeant: can confirm they are very cuddly (not as much as you)
alexalbon: 1. why thank you logan 2. LILY CANCEL THE FLIGHTS
logansargeant: i was talking about y/n... but i knew you remembered our snuggle on the plane
alexalbon: i'm like an octopus in my sleep, just ask lily or george
user20: please santa bring me a cuddle session with the sheep at y/n's farm 🤞
logansargeant
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logansargeant: 2024 williams? no. y/n's tractor? YES
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user21: country boy i love youuuuuuuuuuuu eh
user22: third pic is doing something to me that is irreversible
yourusername: lovely lovely cowboy, i might have to ban you from working on the farm cause you're too distracting
logansargeant: saying that as if you don't make collecting eggs look like the hottest thing in the world
yourusername: you looking mighty fine wrangling the cows
logansargeant: you riding a horse makes me go feral
alexalbon: OKAY WE'LL BE ENDING THAT THERE BEFORE IT LEAVES THE PG RATING
yourusername: boooooo you're no fun ���� 🍅🍅
logansargeant: as if you aren't posting up your feet all over the timeline 🤨
alexalbon: ffs it's just double trouble with you people
user23: only time that driving a tractor is attractive for f1 drivers
oscarpiastri: you guys look like you've jumped out of a trashy romance novel
yourusername: you read them enough to know that
oscarpiastri: what is on my kindle is between me and god
logansargeant: oscar jack piastri leave us out of your smut
oscarpiastri: oh stop being so dramatic, i don't want to know what you freaks do on that farm
logansargeant: and you'll never know. don't think of my girlfriend like that
yourusername: and don't think about my boyfriend like that
oscarpiastri: you people are infuriating
yourusername: we irritating 👯♀️
logansargeant: they hate to see bad bitches winning 💅
user24: this relationship is so precious to me
yourusername
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yourusername: farm update: meet the formooooola one grid!!
yuki has eaten all of my shoes :(
alex has taken station in the chicken coup
charles thinks he's a dog?
max and daniel just snooze everyday under the orange trees
george is always right at the door every morning
oscar and logan are just obsessed with each other and the goats
yes i did name the one with the prettiest coat after lewis
fernando is always sat on some poor soul (usually one of the cats)
carlos and lando chase each other constantly
lance and esteban are chill and just like cuddles
valterri drags zhou to do dumb stuff (they got stuck in a window? don't ask)
pierre demands to be brushed everyday
checo, nico and kevin are the mother hens
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user27: stop the count!!! this IS the cutest moment of the year
yukitsunoda0511: i'm sure cow yuki has a very good excuse
yourusername: i don't have any leather shoes so at least he's not a cannibal?
logansargeant: he did eat my limited edition converse though 🤨
lewishamilton: i simply HAVE to meet cow lewis he sounds like a great dude
yourusername: he's very calm and does love affection
logansargeant: he let me give him belly rubs !!
lewishamilton: that is cute (do not try to touch my stomach)
logansargeant: ... noted
user28: i will never recover from this and need constant updates please
logansargeant: cow me might be obsessed with oscar but real me is still obsessed with you
yourusername: don't tell the others but both you and cow logan are my faves - i love you
logansargeant: awwww i love you too
alexalbon: OUTRAGE
oscarpiastri: ROBBERY
yourusername: oh please ....
logansargeant: you snooze you lose
danielricciardo: awww they can't even separate us as cows @maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1: we're bffs in every universe daniel
yourusername: this is very heartwarming
logansargeant: we're still better though, right?
yourusername: oh of course
danielricciardo: ???
maxverstappen1: ???
fin.
note: two in one day? i am on a roll - i hope you all enjoy with me finally writing for logan !! i for one am glad he's getting a second season!
#f1#f1 x you#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 social media au#logan sargeant imagine#logan sargeant#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant social media au#logan sargeant x you
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three things
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)
warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo
last part | next part
*
year one.
"no, satoru."
how many times have you said that today?
how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything?
oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five.
megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.
it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely.
because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.
you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind.
so you're not sure what to expect.
because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him.
the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried.
it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week.
"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert."
"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way."
"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?"
you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists."
satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks.
the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face.
you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school.
how long will it take before you finally ask him--
you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back.
"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.
you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.
you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right.
satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him.
"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.
megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red.
"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.
"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.
"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us."
"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.
you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy.
megumi swallows. "i like dango."
"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some."
"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--"
you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again.
you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want.
tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by.
honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air.
after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head.
he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart.
after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.
"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed.
"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly.
"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side.
the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear.
satoru is already looking at you.
"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors.
"what what?"
you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?"
satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?"
"what do you mean?"
"why are you acting weird?"
"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning.
he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?"
you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes.
"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..."
you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want."
satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything."
"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids."
"everyone?"
"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait."
he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?"
you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi."
"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.
"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it."
"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable."
"by invading his space?"
"you stare from far away, i stare from up close."
"you antagonize."
satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again.
the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances.
it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him.
"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second.
"about the kids?"
"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up."
he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days."
and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you.
"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up."
"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically.
"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know."
"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward."
"maybe it's too much, too fast."
satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?"
"everything."
satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out?
how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right?
and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?
satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this."
"well, i have to do it for the both of us."
he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days."
you sigh, nodding reluctantly.
"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..."
you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you."
"hey, yes he does."
"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up."
"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding."
you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you.
he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy.
when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall.
"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading.
she nods immediately.
you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek.
something inside of you warms, just briefly.
and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you.
"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?"
"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--"
megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning.
"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave."
megumi glowers.
"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--"
"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need."
tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll.
"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like."
and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit.
satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.
something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him.
you try not to flinch away from the contact.
and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you.
he's trying to be reassuring.
so you smile back and let him hold your hand.
"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.
*
later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice.
"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.
it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.
the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.
as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart.
*
next part
#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru gojo#satoru gojō x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo x y/n#a typical family
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SHES THE MAN [l.hc smau]
FINAL: 29 - you already do. wc: 1.4k
college esports fair — 7:29pm
somehow, ten had convinced you to watch the main stage tournament.
“ten, please, can we just watch 5 minutes and go. i really don’t want to bump into haechan right now, on valorant it was bareable but i wouldn’t even know what to say if i saw him in person…” you rant off to your bestfriend, stood next to you.
infront of you, ten and the crowd, was a stage with empty spaces for 12 contestants lined along the back, tbu’s esports coach, johnny suh, stood at the front with a microphone.
as johnny was beginning to explain the rules of game, ten whispers to you.
“sure. but it’ll be fine! trust me.”
you give him a suspicious glance but decide to go along with it anyways, finally tuning into the coaches speech after he had got the microphone to stop buffering.
“there will be two teams, team 1 and team 2.”
“creative.” you whisper to ten, who laughs.
johnny glances at you, somehow having heard you, before clearing his throat to continue. the people around you laugh.
“each team will be chosen by 2 of the college leagues finest captains. drumroll please?”
you roll your eyes before lazily drumming your palms against tens arm.
“ow!” ten yelps, but you only laugh as he brushes you off.
but your laughter is soon cut short as the two faces you wish would no longer exist, step out onto stage.
from the left, eric sohn.
and from the right,
haechan.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” you murmer, but tens smirking. why is he smirking??
“boys, please choose the 5 players you would like to contribute in your team, taking turns. a coin flip will decide first choice.”
your heart is pounding and you have no clue why.
eric yells heads, leaving haechan to be stuck with tails.
“tails, tails, tails, please, tails.” you hear ten chant from beside you, but you dont ask why, you make a mental note to ask him later. not that you’ll have to, of course. little did you know it’d all become evident, very soon.
johnny flips the coin. “and its heads!”
ten swears to himself and you want to question him as to why he cares so much, but there’s a pair of eyes looking right at you that pull you straight out of your thoughts.
or should you say, two pairs of eyes.
“ten, we have to leave. i have a bad feeling about this.”
but ten only laughs in reply.
as either teams first 4 contestants get decided and called onto stage, you’re still begging ten for you to leave but he ignores you.
johnny calls out to eric to decide his final team member. “do you care to choose your last player, eric?”
he’s looking directly at you and you hate it.
you need to get out of there.
“yes i do. i know exactly who i’d like to pick.”
his attention turns to haechan. and for some reason, haechan looks angry. it’s like there’s some secret between eric, haechan and for some reason ten, that you don’t know about.
you find out why, the second the next four words leave eric’s lips.
“i want yn zhong.”
you feel eyes turn to you. ten beside you, clenching his jaw in anger.
“what?” you whisper. you want to say no, you want to call out and disagree. but haechan beats you to it.
“not happening.” haechan says. eric laughs in spite.
johnny picks up his mic. “do we have a disagreement here, haechan lee?”
haechan turns from eric to face johnny before finally letting his eyes fall to yours.
“i want her.”
you know he means he wants you on the team, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s a double meaning in his words.
he’s supposed to hate you, he’s supposed to despise what you did to him, all that you lied about.
but he wants you?
“then i guess that leaves us with only one option. the chosen persons decision. yn? choose. team 1 or team 2?”
your heart is racing. johnny is making you choose between your ex boyfriend and haechan. so as you walk up to the stage, you spent those 6 seconds deciding exactly what team you want to join.
as you walk straight over to him, he smiles. haechan smiles.
— 9:48pm.
you won. you did it. you finally beat eric.
you could nearly drown in the look on his face as he stormed off that stage the moment you had wiped out his entire team.
but finally, after all that had happened. you got your revenge.
not as chenle, not as anyone else. but as you.
and my god did it feel amazing.
to celebrate, you had jumped up, throwing your arms around the nearest person to you.
but it’s only now that you’re realising who that person is.
slowly, he breaks the hug to look at you.
“look…yn…”
“should we take a walk? i don’t really wanna argue in front of all these people.” you interrupt.
“argue…?” haechan asks under his breath. but your already off the stage, waving bye to ten as you walk towards the empty, turned off carousel. leaving haechan no choice but to rush after you.
wow, that game must have lasted alot longer than you thought.
sitting on one of the faux carriage seats, haechan takes a seat next to you.
“you still hate me, don’t you?” haechan starts.
you look up at him. “what?”
“you know, i kicked you off the team. got mad at you for no reason then just refused to hear you out.”
you’re silent. but he continues.
“you know, i didn’t believe it at first. you pretending to be your brother, but it all makes perfect sense to me now.”
“what do you mean?”
“you helping me with somi, finishing my homework for me when i forgot deadlines, logging into my accounts to finish levels. you were just being a good friend, and i blew it off over jealousy.”
you wanted to cry. you never thought you’d feel so much guilt, but now he’s laying it all before you as his fault…you don’t think you can stand lying to him about anything, any longer.
“im not mad at you haechan.”
his attention on you peaks at this. you pause before continuing.
“in all honesty, i thought you hated me for, well, you know, lying to you about who i was.”
your suddenly very aware about how small this bench is, and how dark it is around you. but he’s right next to you. and that’s something you’ve unknowingly been wishing for, for weeks.
“really?” haechan asks, and your surprised at his confusion. “you thought i was mad at that?”
and now it’s your turn to be confused.
if he didn’t hate you, and you didn’t hate him. what was all this for? why had you been avoiding eachother ever since he kicked chenle out? why had you blatantly ignored every chance there was to see him, if neither of you hated eachother?
unless.
you both liked eachother instead.
“yn, im not mad at you for lying to me.”
your breath stops at his words. he carries on.
“im mad at myself for not realising you were here, directly infront of me, this entire. fucking. time.”
it takes a moment for you to register his words, so you stay silent as you let him continue.
“so give me a chance to know you. the person who stayed up with me all night, the person who fixed my busted cheek. i wanna know you.”
you smile.
because there’s something inbetween all this that he’s forgetting. something that makes all of this a whole lot easier.
“you already do.”
his eyes never cease to leave yours as his hand grazes your chin. and slowly, under the light of the stars and the distant rumble of voices and game music behind you, he kisses you.
and it’s perfect.
through all you’ve been through together, finally you don’t have to hide. this moment is everything you’ve ever wanted.
more than beating eric, more than making the team, more than jaemins limited edition pokémon cards.
this.
for, from this moment on, being with haechan means one thing and one thing only.
you’ll never have to pretend again.
[mlist]
NOTES: and that’s it! thank you so much for following along w this story, i really appreciate every single like, reply and reblog you guys leave, it means the world to me that people enjoy what i put out! i really struggled with this ending and i sooo desperately wanted to give it a bad ending but @chenlesfavorite may have made me change my mind so you can thank her for saving that😓😓 again tysm for following along!!! i hope you all enjoyed reading and i look forward to starting my jaehyun smau tonight!! 🫶🫶
TAGLIST - CLOSED - @lostinneocity @aek1ra @haechansleftshoulder @sunghoonsgfreal @cyjzzl @nanaxwi @neocrashed @candied-czennie @alethea-moon @vantxx95 @nerdsungie @morkiee @sthwaaberry @sunnystarred @p-d1ddy @starfilledgaze @markeroolee @polarisjisung @222brainrot @grassbutneo @minsugahh @daegalfangirl @injunnie-lemon @therealbobbyshloby @flwrs4marklee @jirsungs @donghyucksslut @junviadinho @minkyuncutie @multifandomania @n0hyuck @yehet267 @nctrawberries @neogothyuckie @snoopyjimin @yewshi @theyluvfrankocean @nanamyh3art @i03jae @ckline35 @hyuoonp @galacticnct @haechology @lttlekomori @cutiebambi @tynlvr @sunflowerhae @joyzluvr @taeeflwrr
#nct#nct fanfic#nct dream#nct smau#nct college au#nct 127#haechan#haechan smau#lee haechan#haechan x reader#haechan fanfic
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✨Little Soldier✨
Summary: Ben’s approach to parenting is all grit and discipline, just like the way his own father raised him. But with a little nudge from you, he starts to see that being a good dad is more than just teaching strength—it’s about showing love too.
-Christmas Special-
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Language, ANGST, Fluff, (Ben is mistreating your poor son)
Word Count: 9291
A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. ❤️
It was one of those crisp winter mornings where the air bit at your skin, but the sunlight danced across the snow, making everything shimmer like a dream. The backyard stretched wide, blanketed in white, untouched except for the paths Ben and your son, Logan, had carved into the snow as they trained. Ben stood tall and imposing in the center, the green jacket of his suit open just enough to let the cold sting his chest. He didn’t seem to feel it. Soldier Boy never did.
Logan, just eight years old, was across from him, his small fists raised in a stance that mimicked his father’s. His breath came out in quick, visible bursts, more from effort than the cold. He kept glancing toward his feet, unsure of himself, while Ben paced a tight circle around him.
“Come on, kid”, Ben said, his deep voice cutting through the stillness. “You think anyone’s gonna wait for you to figure it out? Eyes up. Watch your opponent. Always”.
You knelt nearby in the snow, your four-year-old daughter, Lila, bundled up in her puffy coat and mittens, happily building the base of a snowman. Her little hands moved clumsily, her giggles breaking the quiet each time the snow didn’t quite cooperate. You helped her pack the snow tighter, gently guiding her hands and brushing her hair away from her flushed cheeks as you did.
From the corner of your eye, you caught Logan glancing over. Logan’s gaze lingered on you and Lila for just a heartbeat longer than it should have, his eyes filled with something unspoken. He wanted that—building a snowman, laughing, playing without a care in the world. He wanted to feel the warmth of your praise, the way you smiled at Lila when she held up a misshapen clump of snow as if it were a masterpiece. But he couldn’t. Not right now. Not when his dad was watching.
He straightened his stance, forcing the longing down into the pit of his stomach. He was a man, or at least, he was supposed to be. That’s what Dad always said. “You’re not a little kid anymore, Logan. You’ve got to be strong, got to take care of the people you love”. So even though his arms ached and the cold bit at his cheeks, Logan clenched his fists and focused on his father.
Ben noticed the hesitation, his sharp eyes narrowing. “What’s with the looking around, huh? You think your enemies are gonna stop because you’re distracted?”. He stepped forward and lightly tapped Logan on the forehead with two fingers. “This? This is your weapon. If you don’t keep it sharp, you’re dead, kid. Now, eyes on me”.
“Yes, sir”, Logan muttered, his small voice barely audible. He squared his shoulders, his knuckles raw from the cold.
Ben circled him again, his boots crunching against the snow. “Better. Now, hit me like you mean it. Don’t pull your punches just because I’m your old man”.
Logan hesitated for a split second, stealing one more glance at you and Lila. Lila was giggling again, her tiny voice ringing out like a bell as she held up two sticks she’d found for the snowman’s arms. You caught Logan’s glance once more, and your heart clenched. He looked so torn, so much older than his eight years in that moment.
But Logan turned back to his dad, his small frame trembling as he stepped forward and threw another punch. It landed on Ben’s open palm with a dull thud. Ben caught his wrist, holding him in place.
“That all you got?”, Ben asked, his voice calm but challenging.
Logan sighed quietly, his breath visible in the cold air. He hesitated, lowering his gaze to the snow before muttering, “I’ve got my laser eyes, Dad… do I really need to learn how to fight? I could just… laser an enemy”.
Ben froze for a moment, his grip still on Logan’s wrist. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t amusement. It was that half-smile he wore when he was about to make a point, the kind that sent a chill down your spine as much as the cold air did.
“Your laser eyes?”, Ben repeated, letting go of Logan’s wrist. He straightened to his full height, towering over the boy like a general over a recruit. “That’s what you’re gonna rely on? Some flashy power you barely know how to control?”.
Logan’s shoulders sank slightly under the weight of his father’s words, but Ben wasn’t done.
“Let me tell you something, kid”, Ben continued, stepping closer. “You think some bad guy’s gonna just stand there and let you zap him? Powers don’t mean squat if you don’t know how to fight. If you don’t have the guts to stand your ground when things get real. You run outta juice, you get caught off guard, and guess what? You’re toast”.
Logan flinched, his face turning red, though whether from the cold or his father’s words, it was hard to tell. He looked down at his fists, the little tremor in his hands betraying the frustration he was trying to hide.
“But—”, Logan started, only for Ben to cut him off.
“No buts, Logan”. Ben’s voice softened slightly, though the steel remained. “You’re my son. You fight, and you fight smart. Lasers or not, you’ve got to learn how to handle yourself. You’ve got to be ready for the worst. Because trust me, one day, someone’s gonna come at you, and they’re gonna be faster, smarter, and meaner than you ever thought possible”.
Ben crouched down now, meeting Logan’s eyes. His tone shifted, quieter but no less intense. “And when that day comes, you don’t want to be the kid who only knows how to hide behind a fancy power. You want to be the kid who looks them in the eye and says, ‘Come on, give me your best shot’. You hear me?”.
Logan stared at him, his small frame trembling not just from the cold but from the weight of what his father was saying. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, sir”, he whispered, his voice steadier this time.
Ben clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder, a rare moment of affection. “Good. Now hit me again. Harder this time”.
You watched from where you knelt with Lila, your heart aching for your son. He was trying so hard, carrying a weight far too heavy for someone so young. But there was a flicker of something in his expression now—determination, maybe, or even pride.
Logan set his jaw, stepping forward again. His small fist swung upward, and this time, the impact against Ben’s hand was louder, sharper. Ben grinned, nodding approvingly.
“That’s my boy”, he said. “Now we’re getting somewhere".
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Lila tugging at your sleeve, her little hands holding a snowball. “Mommy, can we throw this at Daddy?”, she asked, her mischievous grin spreading wide across her face.
You watched for a few more minutes, letting Logan and Ben have their moment. Logan’s punches were getting stronger, his stance more confident. Ben’s rare but genuine nods of approval lit up Logan’s face, even as his small fists grew red and raw from the cold. It was a scene that tugged at your heart—intense, yes, but filled with love in its own complicated way.
But enough was enough. Everyone needed a break, even Soldier Boy.
You silently scooped up a handful of snow, packing it tightly in your gloved hands. Lila watched you with wide, sparkling eyes, her grin spreading as she realized what you were about to do. “Shh”, you whispered, pressing a finger to your lips. She mimicked the gesture, though her giggles threatened to give you away.
Ben’s back was turned as he adjusted Logan’s footing, his deep voice still carrying instructions. He had no idea what was coming. You took careful aim, pulled your arm back, and let the snowball fly.
It hit Ben squarely on the back of the head.
For a split second, the world froze. Logan’s mouth dropped open, his eyes darting to you in shock. Lila’s laughter erupted, high and bright, as she clapped her mittened hands together. Ben straightened slowly, turning to face you with an expression that was equal parts surprise and challenge. A few snowflakes clung to his hair, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the sight.
“Really?”, Ben said, his tone low and dangerous, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “You think you can take me on, sweetheart?”.
You shrugged innocently, already packing another snowball. “Well, someone had to remind you to have a little fun”.
Ben’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that”.
Before you could react, Ben scooped up a massive handful of snow and hurled it in your direction. You ducked, narrowly avoiding the incoming projectile, and tossed your snowball back, catching him on the shoulder. Logan burst into laughter, his previous tension melting away as he watched the two of you go at it.
“Oh, it’s on now!”, you shouted, grabbing another handful of snow.
“Logan!”, Ben called out, already forming another snowball. “You with me or her?”.
Logan hesitated for half a second before grinning mischievously. “Her!”, he declared, running toward you. Lila squealed with delight, abandoning the snowman to join your side, her tiny hands struggling to form a snowball of her own.
Ben feigned outrage, clutching his chest. “Fucking traitors! All of you!”.
What followed was pure chaos. Snowballs flew in every direction, laughter ringing out across the yard. Ben, true to form, didn’t hold back, though he made sure to go easy on the humans, meaning you. Logan and Lila worked together, pelting him relentlessly, while you managed to land a few well-aimed shots of your own.
By the time the battle ended, all of you were breathless and rosy-cheeked, the tension from earlier completely forgotten. Ben stood in the middle of the yard, dusting snow off his jacket, while Logan and Lila collapsed into the snow, giggling uncontrollably.
You started walking toward Ben, a triumphant smile on your face as you prepared to rub in the fact that you and the kids had clearly won the impromptu snowball fight. But before you could get too close, Ben’s grin shifted into something sly and mischievous—a look you recognized all too well.
“Don’t even think about it”, you warned, holding up your hands.
He didn’t say a word. Instead, with one quick, fluid motion Ben effortlessly pushed you backward into the towering pile of snow that had been stacked from the snow fort construction. You landed with a muffled thud in the cold, soft powder, your breath leaving you in a surprised gasp.
“Ben!”, you yelled, sitting up and brushing snow out of your hair, your cheeks flushing from the chill and the sheer audacity of the man. He stood over you, grinning like a smug teenager, his hands on his hips as he surveyed his handiwork.
“Never let your guard down. I thought I taught you better than that”, he drawled, shrugging one shoulder.
You narrowed your eyes, a mixture of irritation and amusement bubbling to the surface. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, Soldier Boy”.
“Big talk for someone sitting in a snowbank”, he teased, holding out a hand as if to help you up.
For a moment, you considered taking his offer. But then you saw the smirk on his face and knew better. Instead, you grabbed another handful of snow and flung it straight at his chest, catching him off guard. He stumbled back slightly, laughing as he brushed the snow off.
“That’s it”, Ben said, stepping forward with mock menace in his stride. “Now you´re done”.
Ben’s grin turned wicked as he shook the snow from his hair and stepped forward. Before you could even think to scramble away, he reached down, his strong hands gripping your waist with ease. “You started this”, he said, his voice low and teasing. “Now you’ve got to pay for it”.
“Ben, don’t you dare—”, you started, but the rest of your words were lost in a squeal as he hoisted you up and slung you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You pounded lightly on his back, laughter spilling out of you despite yourself.
“Too late for mercy now”, he said, his tone full of mock authority. “This is what happens when you challenge the champ”.
As you protested, he started toward the house, his boots crunching through the snow. Behind you, Logan and Lila dissolved into giggles, rolling in the snow as they started making snow angels, entirely unbothered by the fact that their parents were still in the middle of their antics.
“Ben, you’re getting me soaked!”, you protested, but your words were muffled by your laughter. Snow clung to your coat, melting quickly in the warmth of the house as he carried you through the door and kicked it shut behind him.
“That’s the least of your worries”, he shot back, his voice full of mischief.
He strode into the living room, his boots leaving a trail of melting snow, and without hesitation, he dropped you onto the couch. The plush cushions sank under your weight, and before you could react, he was hovering over you, bracing himself on his hands on either side of your head.
“See?”, he teased, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath despite the cold water dripping from both of you. “You can’t win against me. I’m unstoppable”.
You glared up at him, though the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth betrayed your true feelings. You reached up and grabbed his jacket, tugging him slightly forward. “You’re soaking the couch, genius”, you said, though the laughter in your voice was impossible to hide.
“So are you”, he shot back, leaning closer, droplets of melted snow falling from his collar and onto your skin.
The two of you were practically nose to nose now, water pooling under both of you.
Ben’s smirk softened into something more heated as his fingers toyed with the edge of your jacket. His voice dropped, rough and low, as he muttered, “You know, I fucking hate winter”.
You raised an eyebrow, still trying to catch your breath from laughing. “Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me, the way you were having a field day out there”.
His hands slid to the edges of your jacket, slowly pushing it open as he hovered over you. “Nah”, he said, a big smirk on his face again. “I hate all these damn clothes. Hiding this”. His gaze raked over you as his fingers began to undo the buttons of your shirt, his touch confident and deliberate, yet surprisingly gentle. “Hiding your perfect little tits”.
Your breath caught, your cheeks flushing warmer than they already were from the snow. “Ben”, you started, half in protest, though your voice lacked conviction. His boldness always caught you off guard, even after all this time.
“What?”, he said, mock innocence dripping from his words as his hands worked their way lower. His green eyes locked with yours, full of mischief and intent. “You start a fight, sweetheart, you gotta be ready for the consequences”.
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, even as you felt his calloused fingers graze your skin beneath your shirt. “Is this how you settle scores now?”.
Ben leaned closer, his lips brushing against your jawline, his breath warm against your chilled skin. “When it’s with you? Damn right it is”.
Before either of you could go further, the sound of the kids’ muffled giggles echoed through the window. Ben froze, glancing toward the frost-covered glass, then back at you, his grin faltering for just a moment before it returned full force.
“Saved by the brats”, he murmured, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. He leaned back, giving you space to sit up as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “Guess you get a pass this time”.
You laughed, buttoning your shirt back up as you pushed his chest playfully. “You’re impossible”.
Lila, hands pressed to the glass. “Eww, Mommy and Daddy you´re gross!”, she teased, sticking her tongue out dramatically, while Logan laughed and shook his head, clearly trying to act like he wasn’t entertained but failing miserably.
You couldn’t help but laugh at Lila’s exaggerated expression, her hands still pressed against the window as she made a show of grossing herself out. Logan, on the other hand, was doing his best to look serious, though the laughter that bubbled up from his chest betrayed his attempt to remain mature.
“Eww, Mommy and Daddy always kissing!”, Lila mumbled with a playful scrunch of her nose, her voice full of mock disgust. She stuck her tongue out again, clearly enjoying the attention.
Logan, trying his best to be the older, wiser sibling, crossed his arms and shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “You guys are so embarrassing”, he said, though the way his eyes sparkled showed he didn’t actually mind one bit.
Ben, standing beside you, glanced at you and then back at the kids. His grin softened, and he leaned down toward you, speaking in a voice only you could hear. “They don’t have a clue, do they?”, he said with a quiet chuckle.
You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully at the scene unfolding in front of you. “Not a single one”.
Lila, clearly not done yet, leaned closer to the window, still giving you both the dramatic “eww” face. “You’re gonna make us barf!”, she announced loudly, her face scrunching as though it was all just too much to bear.
Ben couldn’t help but laugh at his daughter’s antics. “What are you two up to, huh?”, he called through the window. “Making fun of your parents? You should be building that snowman”.
Lila, always the instigator, puffed out her chest proudly. “We already did!”, she declared. “But now we’re watching you guys because it’s funny!”.
As Lila stood there, still making faces at you and Ben, Logan saw the perfect opportunity to sneak away. Without warning, he grabbed his younger sister by the hand, pulling her away from the window with a quick tug.
“C’mon, Lila!”, Logan urged, his voice filled with excitement. “Let’s finish the snowman! Dad and Mom are being all gross again!”.
Lila let out a reluctant giggle but quickly followed, her mittens flapping as she tried to keep up with her brother. “Okay, okay, but only if we can give him a crown!”; she shouted, already planning the next addition to their snow creation.
Ben watched them go with a fond smile before his gaze shifted back to you. His grin softened as he stood beside you, his arms crossing in that familiar, relaxed way. “You okay?”, he asked, his voice quieter now, with an undercurrent of concern.
You sighed, keeping your eyes on the kids as they ran back into the snow, their laughter a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the moment. “I think you need to ease up with him, Ben”, you mumbled, your voice soft but steady. “You’re demanding too much from him. He’s just 8”.
Ben didn’t respond right away. His gaze followed Logan and Lila for a moment, his jaw working as though weighing your words. You could see him considering it, but you knew how hard it was for him to let go of the lessons, the expectations he had for Logan. It had been instilled in him—toughness, strength, independence. But Logan was still a child, and there was only so much he could handle before it became too much.
Ben turned to you, his expression slightly guarded but not entirely dismissive. “I’m not asking him to be something he’s not”, he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m just trying to make sure he doesn’t get soft. The world isn’t gonna treat him like a kid forever”.
You crossed your arms, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you looked at him. “He is a kid, Ben”, you said, your voice rising a little, frustration creeping in. “Let him be one. You can’t push him to grow up this fast. You can’t always expect him to be your mini-me, a smaller version of you. He’s Logan, not Soldier Boy”.
“I’m just trying to prepare him. If he’s not tough enough, the world will eat him alive. You know that as well as I do”.
You shook your head, exhaling slowly, trying to rein in your emotions. “I know, but there’s a balance. You can teach him those things, Ben, but not at the cost of his childhood. He’s just 8”. You softened your tone, meeting his gaze directly. “I just… I just don’t want him to resent you. I don’t want him to think he has to be something he’s not to earn your approval”.
Ben was quiet for a moment, and you could see the internal battle in his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, chewing on the words for a second before letting out a long breath.
Ben’s silence lingered, his jaw tightening as your words sank in. You could see the tension ripple through him, the way his shoulders stiffened and his gaze faltered. You hesitated, carefully choosing your next words, not wanting to push him too far but needing him to understand.
“You should know it best, Ben”, you mumbled softly, almost afraid of how he’d react. Your voice wavered, but you held his gaze. “You know what it’s like to feel like you’re never enough, no matter how hard you try. You’ve told me… how your dad was with you”.
The words hit him like a physical blow, and you saw it immediately. His confident, almost cocky exterior faltered, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see. His mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, he looked away, his eyes drifting toward the snow-covered yard where Logan and Lila were playing.
“Don’t”, he finally muttered, his voice rough, strained. “Don’t bring him into this”.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Ben”, you said gently, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. “I’m just saying… you know how it feels to grow up under that kind of pressure. Always trying to live up to someone else’s expectations, never feeling like you’re enough. You’ve told me you hated it. And I know you never want Logan to feel that way”.
Ben’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound filled with frustration—but not at you. At himself. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he finally looked back at you, his green eyes clouded with something between regret and resolve.
“I don’t”, he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want him to feel like that. Ever”.
“Then let him breathe, Ben”, you urged, your voice soft but steady. “He’s just a kid. He needs to know he’s enough as he is. That he doesn’t have to be the toughest or the strongest to make you proud. He just has to be Logan”.
Ben rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers dragging down to rest at his chin. He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders rising and falling as he processed your words. “You think I’m turning into him, don’t you?”, he asked quietly, almost to himself.
You shook your head firmly. “No, I don’t. You’re not your dad, Ben. You’re already so much more than he ever was. But sometimes… sometimes I think you’re carrying his shadow. And it’s time to let it go. For Logan. For you”.
Ben let out a slow exhale, his shoulders relaxing just slightly as your words settled between you. You leaned up and kissed his cheek gently, the warmth of the moment cutting through the tension that had lingered in the air. His eyes softened as he looked down at you, though he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. You could tell he was listening, really listening, and that was enough for now.
“I’m going to get the kids”, you said softly, brushing your hand along his arm before stepping toward the door.
He nodded once, his gaze following you for a moment before shifting back to the snowy yard, where Logan and Lila were laughing together as they finished up their snowman.
“Alright, you two!”, you called, standing in the door, your voice cutting through their laughter. “Time to come inside! Wash your hands, and then we’re going to bake some cookies”.
Lila’s face lit up, and she immediately clapped her mittened hands together. “Cookies!”, she squealed, already abandoning the snowman and running toward you with excitement. “Can we make the ones with the sprinkles?”.
“Of course, sweetheart”, you said, catching her as she barreled into you. “But first, upstairs. Wash up”.
Logan, however, lingered behind, his small figure standing just a few feet from the snowman. His expression shifted slightly, the bright enthusiasm dimming as he avoided your eyes. You could tell something was on his mind.
“Logan”, you called gently, holding the door open as Lila darted inside. “Come on, sweetie. Time to wash up”.
He trudged toward you slowly, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. When he finally reached you, he hesitated once more, his small boots crunching in the snow, but he kept his gaze low, his face unreadable. You crouched down to his level, brushing some of the snow off his coat. You tilted your head slightly, trying to meet his eyes.
“Logan, sweetie”, you said gently, “Do you not want to bake cookies? It’s okay if you don’t feel like it”.
His eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly before darting away again. This time, they landed where Ben still stood, his broad figure shadowed by the light from the living room. Ben had turned slightly, his gaze now fixed on the two of you at the door, his expression unreadable but clearly focused.
Logan shifted uncomfortably, his small hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
Then, he shook his head firmly. “It’s… it’s women’s stuff”, he muttered, his tone wavering. Without waiting for your response, he turned abruptly, his small boots stomping against the hardwood floor as he headed for the stairs.
“Logan”, you called after him gently, but he didn’t stop. You caught a glimpse of his face before he disappeared up the staircase—the tight set of his jaw, the way his lips pressed together like he was fighting something back. And then you saw it: the tears gathering in his eyes.
Your heart sank as you realized what was really going on. Logan usually loved baking cookies, that much you knew. He had always lit up at the chance to mix dough, sprinkle sugar, and get his hands messy in the process. But he wouldn’t admit that in front of Ben, not after what he thought his dad believed about “women’s stuff”. And Logan sure as hell wasn’t going to let Ben see him cry.
You sighed, glancing back at Ben, his expression unreadable. He had been watching the entire exchange, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. For a moment, you thought he might come, might say something, but he stayed frozen in place, his eyes following Logan’s retreat.
Without saying a word, you stepped inside, closing the door softly behind you and heading upstairs. As much as you wanted to comfort Logan, you also knew that Ben needed to face this moment, to see the impact of his words—not just through your eyes, but his own.
You found Logan in his room, curled up on the edge of his bed, his back to the door. His small shoulders trembled slightly, though he tried to keep quiet. It broke your heart to see him like that, trying so hard to hold everything in.
“Logan?”, you said softly, stepping into the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to give him space. “It’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to hide it from me”.
“I’m not upset”, he muttered, his voice muffled. “I don’t care. I hate baking cookies”.
You reached out gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay if you do care. And it’s okay if you love baking cookies, Logan. That doesn’t make you less of anything”.
He didn’t respond at first, but after a long pause, he whispered, “Dad thinks it does”.
Those words hit you hard, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. “Your dad doesn’t think that, sweetie. He just… sometimes he says things without thinking. But that doesn’t mean he’s right”.
Logan finally turned to look at you, his tear-streaked face breaking your heart all over again. “He’ll think I’m weak”, he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t want him to think I’m weak”.
You pulled him into a gentle hug, holding him close as his small frame shook against you. “Logan, you’re not weak”, you said firmly. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. And being strong doesn’t mean hiding the things you love. It means being brave enough to be yourself”.
At that moment, you heard footsteps approaching. The door creaked open slightly, and you looked up to see Ben standing in the doorway. He hesitated, his expression soft but conflicted as his eyes landed on Logan. He didn’t say anything right away, but the regret on his face was clear.
“Logan”, Ben finally said, his voice quieter than usual. He stepped into the room, his broad figure filling the small space as he crouched down next to the bed.
Logan’s reaction was immediate and almost frantic. He pulled away from your embrace, turning his back to both you and Ben as he roughly wiped at his face with his small fists. His movements were sharp and deliberate, as though he was trying to erase the evidence of his tears before anyone could say a word.
“I’m fine”, he muttered, his voice tight and trembling. “I wasn’t crying”.
You glanced at Ben, whose face tightened at the sight. You could see the regret and guilt pooling in his eyes, the weight of his own words and lessons crashing down on him as he watched his son fight so hard to suppress his emotions.
Ben cleared his throat, his voice softer than usual. “Logan, you don’t have to do that. It’s okay—”.
“I said I’m fine!”, Logan snapped, spinning around to glare at him. His eyes were red and glassy, but his jaw was set in defiance. “Women cry. That’s what you always say. So I’m not crying”.
Ben froze, visibly taken aback by the raw honesty in Logan’s voice. For a moment, he just stared, his mouth opening slightly as if to respond but no words coming out. It was like he was looking into a mirror of himself, the echoes of his father’s harsh lessons staring back at him in his own son’s tear-streaked face.
You saw the way Ben’s shoulders sagged, his defenses crumbling as Logan’s words hit him harder than any punch ever could. He finally sat down on the floor next to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, making sure he was on Logan’s level.
Your heart aching as you watched Logan’s small figure tremble with frustration, hurt, and confusion. You couldn’t take it anymore. Turning to Ben, your voice came sharp and firm, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade.
“Fix this, Ben”, you said, your tone leaving no room for argument. Your eyes locked on his, stern and unwavering. “That’s my baby boy, and I will not let him feel like this because of something you’ve said”.
Ben’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew you were right, and the weight of the situation was already pressing down on him. You took a deep breath, your own emotions threatening to spill over, and with one last look at both of them, you turned on your heel and left the room. Your own eyes were glassy, tears threatening to fall as you closed the door softly behind you.
In the quiet of the hallway, you leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Hearing Logan say those words, seeing the pain etched on his small face—it was almost too much to bear. But you trusted Ben to handle it. He had to handle it.
Inside the room, Ben remained seated on the floor, his gaze fixed on Logan, who was still turned away from him. The boy’s small hands clenched into fists at his sides, his head bowed low as he tried to mask the occasional sniffle that escaped him.
“Logan”, Ben started softly, his voice steady but carrying a rare gentleness that was almost foreign. “Can I tell you something? Something about me?”.
Logan didn’t respond, but Ben noticed the slight twitch of his shoulders, the way his posture stiffened just enough to show he was listening. Ben took that as his cue to continue.
“When I was your age”, Ben began, leaning forward slightly, “My dad used to say the same things to me. He’d tell me that crying made me weak. That showing how I felt was… wrong. And I believed him. I thought if I ever let myself cry, or feel scared, or be anything other than ‘tough’, I was a failure”.
Logan shifted slightly but still didn’t turn around. Ben kept going, his voice growing heavier with emotion.
“And you know what? For a long time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t let myself feel anything, really. I just kept it all inside, like I was supposed to. But it didn’t make me stronger, Logan. It made me angry. It made me feel alone. Like I had to handle everything by myself, and no one else could ever understand”.
Finally, Logan turned, his tear-streaked face filled with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “You?”, he asked, his voice cracking. “You felt like that?”.
Ben nodded, his eyes meeting Logan’s with an honesty that he rarely let anyone see. “Yeah, kid. I did. And it wasn’t until I met your mom—until I had you and Lila—that I realized how wrong my dad was. Being tough doesn’t mean keeping everything inside. It doesn’t mean pretending you don’t care or don’t hurt. Being tough means letting yourself feel all of it and still finding the strength to keep going”.
Logan sniffled, his fists unclenching as he wiped at his eyes again. “But you said—”.
Ben let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair, his frustration with himself evident. “I know what I said”, he repeated, his voice carrying that gruff edge that always came with vulnerability. “And yeah, I messed up. I say a lot of dumb shit, Logan. Your mom would probably tell you I’ve got a talent for it”.
That earned a small, almost involuntary laugh from Logan, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. Ben’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, the faintest hint of relief flickering in his eyes.
“But here’s the thing”, Ben continued, his voice softening again as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I don’t want you to grow up thinking you’ve got to be me. Hell, I don’t even like half the crap I’ve done. You’re better than that. Better than me”.
Logan stared at him, his tear-streaked face a mix of surprise and confusion. “But you’re… you’re, like, the strongest guy ever. You’re not scared of anything”.
Ben chuckled, the sound low and rough as he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not scared of anything, huh?”. He smirked, shaking his head. “Kid, I’m scared as shit of your mom”.
Logan blinked, caught off guard by the sudden confession. “What? Mom?”.
“Yeah, your mom”, Ben said, his tone a mix of humor and honesty. “You think I’m out there facing down bad guys like it’s no big deal? That’s nothing compared to when she gives me the look”. He mimicked an exaggerated version of your stern glare, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Logan giggled, the tension melting further as he watched his dad pretend to shrink under an invisible scolding. “Really?”.
“Oh yeah”, Ben said, nodding seriously. “One time I forgot to take the trash out. She didn’t even yell—she just stood there, arms crossed, staring me down like I’d committed a fucking war crime”. He mock-shuddered. “I’d rather face supervillains".
Logan laughed harder this time, wiping his face again, though the tears were gone now, replaced by a small, genuine smile.
Ben leaned closer, his expression softening. “Look, kid, being scared isn’t a bad thing. It just means you care about something—or someone. Like how I’m scared of messing up with you and your sister. And yeah, I’m scared of your mom sometimes, but only because she’s got this way of making me want to be better, even when I screw up”.
Logan tilted his head, considering his dad’s words. “So… it’s okay to be scared?”.
Ben nodded firmly. “Scared, nervous, happy, mad—it’s all part of being human. What matters is what you do with it. And right now?”. He gave Logan a lopsided grin. “We’re gonna take those feelings, roll up our sleeves, and bake the best cookies this house has ever seen. You in?”.
Logan hesitated for a second before nodding, his smile growing. “I’m in”.
Ben stood, holding out a hand to help Logan up. “Good. But fair warning—your mom’s probably waiting outside that door to see if I fixed this. And if she’s still mad at me, I might need you to tell her I did a good job. Deal?”.
Logan laughed, taking his dad’s hand and standing up. “Deal”.
When the door opened, you were standing there in the hallway, arms crossed but a soft smile on your face. Ben gave you a sheepish grin, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, boss. Mission accomplished”.
You shook your head, stepping aside to let them pass. “For now”, you said teasingly, though the gratitude in your eyes said everything you didn’t.
As the three of you headed downstairs, Logan walked between you and Ben, his small hand brushing against yours.
An hour later, the kitchen was alive with laughter and the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. Logan and Lila sat at the table, surrounded by bowls of frosting and sprinkles, each focused on decorating their creations. Logan was surprisingly precise, carefully piping designs onto a gingerbread man, while Lila was happily dumping an entire handful of rainbow sprinkles onto one cookie, creating a chaotic masterpiece.
You leaned against Ben, his warmth a steady comfort as you watched the kids. His arm slid lazily around your shoulders, and he let out a soft sigh, one that carried a mixture of exhaustion and relief.
“You did good today, Soldier Boy”, you murmured, grinning up at him. Standing on your tiptoes, you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, your lips brushing the faint stubble there.
Ben smirked, a small chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, well”, he started, clearly about to respond with one of his usual witty comebacks, when—
“Ewww!”, Lila groaned dramatically from the table, dragging out the word as she scrunched her nose and waved her hands like she was fending off a swarm of bees. “Mommy and Daddy are being gross again!”.
Logan snickered, not looking up from his cookie but clearly amused by his sister’s reaction. “Told you they do that all the time”, he said with a teasing grin. “It’s so embarrassing”.
Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you with an exaggerated look of mock offense. “Didn’t realize we were raising such critics”, he said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.
Ben shook his head, smirking as he turned toward the kids. “Alright, listen up, you two. You keep calling us gross, and I’m eating all these cookies myself. No sprinkles, no frosting, just plain cookies. How’s that for embarrassing?”.
“Daddy, nooo!”, Lila shrieked, clutching one of her sprinkle-covered cookies protectively to her chest. “You can’t! These are mine!”.
Ben’s smirk deepened as he took a deliberate step toward the table, his eyes locked on one of Lila’s chaotic sprinkle-covered cookies. “Oh, really?”, he drawled, his tone teasing and slow. “You think you can stop me, little miss sprinkle queen?”.
Lila gasped dramatically. “Daddy, no!”, she squealed, scooting back in her chair and holding up a hand to block him. “You can’t take this one! It’s perfect!”.
“Perfect, huh?”, Ben quirked an eyebrow, inching closer, his large frame towering over the table. “Let me see. Gotta make sure it’s up to regulation”.
“It’s mine!”, Lila shouted, jumping out of her chair and running around to the other side of the table, her plate wobbling in her hands. “Go eat Logan’s cookies instead!”.
“Hey!”, Logan said, finally looking up from his carefully decorated gingerbread man. “Don’t drag me into this! My cookies are art”.
Ben burst out laughing, glancing over at Logan with mock offense. “Art, huh? Let me be the judge of that”. He reached out as if to grab one of Logan’s cookies, but Logan quickly pulled his plate away, holding it up high.
“Back off, Dad!”, Logan said with a grin, using his other hand to block him. “These are for Mom!”.
Ben stopped, placing his hands on his hips, his grin turning into a smirk. “Oh, for Mom, huh? Well, in that case…”. He lunged toward Lila, pretending to swipe for her plate.
Lila let out a delighted shriek, ducking under the table and crawling to the other side. “You’ll never catch me!”, she declared, her giggles filling the kitchen.
You leaned against the counter, watching the chaos unfold with an amused smile. “Ben”, you said, crossing your arms and giving him a mock stern look, “if you don’t leave their cookies alone, you’re not getting any of… mine”.
Ben froze mid-step, his hand still outstretched toward Lila’s plate, as your words hung in the air. Slowly, he turned his head toward you, one eyebrow raised, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, is that right?”, he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Not getting any of… yours, huh?”.
You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a sly smile. “That’s exactly what I said”, you replied, the double meaning clear in your tone.
Before Ben could respond with one of his usual cheeky comebacks, Logan groaned loudly from his seat, his hands slapping the table. “I know you guys aren’t talking about cookies”, he muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically. “And for the record, I don’t want another baby sister, okay? One is enough”.
Ben blinked, taken completely off guard by Logan’s blunt statement. He let out a bark of laughter, leaning against the table for support as he pointed at Logan. “Kid, what the hell—where did that even come from?”.
“Logan!”, you gasped, though you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your chest. “What are you talking about?”.
Logan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as if he’d just solved a great mystery. “You guys are always giving each other those looks, and Dad’s always making those weird jokes”. He waved his hand in Ben’s direction. “It’s not rocket science”.
Ben, still chuckling, wiped a hand over his face as he shook his head. “The kid’s too smart for his own good”, he muttered, grinning at you. “He’s onto us”.
“Logan”, you said, trying to suppress your laughter and keep a straight face, “You are way too young to be worrying about this kind of thing”.
Logan kept his arms crossed, his gaze shifting between you and Ben as his face took on that serious, almost grown-up expression he liked to wear when he was deep in thought. “I’m just saying”, he said slowly, his voice losing some of its teasing edge, “you don’t need another kid. We’re good like this”,
You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes slightly. There was something unspoken in his words, a flicker of uncertainty behind the bravado. He wasn’t just teasing—this was something else. But you knew better than to press him here, not in front of Ben, not when Logan was so guarded.
“Of course we’re good like this”, you said gently, leaning forward and resting your arms on the table. “But would another sibling be that bad?”.
Logan shrugged, his lips pressing together in that tight, nervous way he had when he didn’t want to say what he was really thinking. “I don’t know”m he mumbled, his eyes dropping to his cookie. “I just think… things are fine the way they are”.
Ben, still standing beside you, raised an eyebrow. He glanced down at you, clearly noticing the shift in Logan’s tone, but didn’t push either. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned casually against the counter.
Logan’s words struck a chord, and you could see the layers of concern in his small face—concerns he didn’t know how to voice yet. You gave Logan a warm smile, reaching over to ruffle his hair gently.
“You’re right, buddy”, you said softly. “Things are perfect just the way they are”.
Logan relaxed slightly at your reassurance, nodding as he returned his attention to his cookie. Ben gave you a questioning look, his eyebrow raised as if he were silently asking, What’s that about? You shook your head slightly, a silent later passing between you.
Because there was something you hadn’t told him yet—something that had been tugging at the back of your mind. You were late. Only a few days, but still. You were never late.
You hadn’t said anything to Ben yet because you weren’t ready to make it real, not until you were sure. But as Logan’s words played over in your head, you felt a swirl of emotions: uncertainty, anticipation, and a hint of fear.
Ben’s voice broke into your thoughts. “Alright, Logan”, he said, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “You better not be hogging all the good cookies over there. I need to taste-test those”.
Logan rolled his eyes, his small smirk returning as he pushed one of his neatly decorated cookies toward his dad. “Here, take one. But don’t mess up my frosting”.
Ben grinned, plucking the cookie off the plate with exaggerated care. “Wouldn’t dream of it, champ”.
When the kitchen filled with laughter again, you let yourself lean into the moment, deciding to hold off on the conversation for now.
As the evening wore on, the warmth of the kitchen turned into the quiet hum of nighttime. Lila had curled up on the couch under a blanket, clutching a small stuffed animal in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other. Her eyelids had grown heavy, and eventually, she’d surrendered to sleep, her soft snores filling the cozy space.
Ben glanced over from where he was tidying up the counter, his face softening as he took in the sight of his little girl. “Looks like the Sprinkle Queen’s out for the count”, he said, his voice low.
You smiled, drying your hands on a towel. “She had a big day. All those sprinkles wore her out”.
Ben crossed the room, scooping Lila into his arms with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times before. She stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but settled quickly against his chest, her tiny hand clutching at his shirt.
“I’ll take her up”, he said, his voice quiet but firm, as though it wasn’t up for discussion. You nodded, watching as he carried her out of the room, the sight of his broad figure cradling her so gently always tugging at your heart.
Logan appeared in the doorway then, his steps hesitant as he glanced between you and the direction his dad had gone. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing a little taller as if to remind you—and himself—that he didn’t need the same kind of care his little sister did.
“I don’t need anyone to bring me to bed”, Logan said, his voice firm but lacking the usual bite of defiance. “I can do it myself”.
You gave him a small smile, stepping closer. “I know you can, sweetheart”, you said softly. “You’ve been doing great. But you let me help when Dad’s not here. Maybe you can let him help tonight?”.
Logan hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor before looking back up at you. “Dad’s never… he doesn’t usually…”. He trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.
You crouched down, resting a hand gently on his shoulder. “Sometimes he doesn’t know how to ask”, you said gently. “But he’d love to, Logan. If you’re okay with it”.
Logan frowned, his small brows furrowing as he thought it over. Then he gave a small, almost reluctant nod. “Okay”, he mumbled, glancing toward the stairs. “But only if he doesn’t make a big deal about it”.
You smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. “Deal”.
By the time Ben returned, Logan was waiting at the foot of the stairs, his arms still crossed but his posture less tense.
Ben appeared at the top of the stairs, his heavy steps softening as he noticed Logan standing there, arms crossed in that telltale way that meant he was trying to appear tougher than he felt. Ben paused for a moment, taking in the sight of his son waiting for him, and his face softened in a way that only you seemed to notice.
“Looks like someone’s still up”, Ben said, his tone light but without the teasing edge he sometimes used. He walked down the last few steps, his movements slower, less hurried, as though giving Logan time to decide what he wanted.
Logan glanced at you briefly, then back at his dad. “I’m ready for bed”, he said, his voice neutral, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
Ben nodded, his hands settling on his hips as he studied his son for a moment. “Alright”, he said, his tone casual. “Let’s get you tucked in, then”.
Logan didn’t move at first, glancing at the floor like he was waiting for Ben to say more. When nothing else came, he gave a small nod and started up the stairs, his pace slower than usual. Ben followed closely behind, casting a quick glance at you as he passed. You gave him an encouraging smile, silently urging him to let this moment be what Logan needed.
When they reached Logan’s room, Ben paused in the doorway, watching as Logan climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chest. Logan fidgeted with the edge of the fabric, his small hands gripping it tightly.
Ben stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as Logan burrowed into his bed, the blanket clutched tightly to his chest. He let out a quiet sigh, stepping forward and crouching down beside the bed, his movements uncharacteristically gentle.
“You all set, champ?”, Ben asked, his voice low and steady.
Logan nodded, but his hands still fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the kind that Ben hadn’t seen in a while. Without thinking too much about it, Ben reached out and grabbed the blanket, pulling it up snugly around Logan’s shoulders.
“Gotta make sure you’re tucked in properly”, Ben said, his tone shifting to something lighter, almost teasing. “Don’t want you freezing in the middle of the night”.
Logan giggled softly, his small voice breaking the quiet of the room. “Dad, I’m not gonna freeze”.
“Oh, you think so?”, Ben said, raising an eyebrow as he tugged the blanket even tighter around Logan, practically swaddling him. “What if a snowstorm hits? What if you wake up and there’s frost on your nose? Gotta be prepared”.
Logan laughed harder now, his small hands pushing at the blanket as he squirmed. “Dad! Stop, it’s too tight!”.
“Nope”, Ben said with mock seriousness, sitting back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect. You’re like a little burrito now. Nothing’s getting to you”.
“Dad!”, Logan squealed, his laughter breaking through the last of his earlier hesitation. He wiggled under the tightly tucked blanket, his face lighting up with a joy that reminded Ben of when he was younger, back before Ben had decided he was too big for things like this.
Ben grinned, leaning forward and ruffling Logan’s hair. “There we go”, he said softly. “That’s better. Haven’t heard you laugh like that in a while”.
Logan’s giggles faded into a warm smile, his eyes meeting his dad’s with a rare openness. “Thanks, Dad”.
Ben’s expression softened, and he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair off Logan’s forehead. “Anytime, kiddo. You know that”.
He stood slowly and glanced toward the door before he turned back to Logan, his voice low and serious now.
“Alright, get some sleep. Sweet dreams, champ”.
“Goodnight, Dad”, Logan murmured, his voice already heavy with sleep.
Ben hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Logan’s head, something he hadn’t done in years. Logan didn’t pull away, instead letting his eyes flutter closed as he sank deeper into his blankets.
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A/N: Not that much of Christmas, but it’s snowy and cold. So let’s just count it, lol. Please let me know what you think.🥰
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#jensen ackles#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#the boys#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy fanfiction#the boys soldier boy#the boys fanart
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“slut!” | tom blyth
summary: in a word full of boys, tom is a gentleman.
an: takes place before filming billy the kid
warnings: mean names hence the title also if you care, reader is the same age as tom lol
“so keep your boyfriends hidden because y/n is newly single!”
“how many boyfriends has she had in the last four years?”
“clearly she’s the problem if she can’t keep a boyfriend.”
you heard it all. the names people called you, the headlines, news reports. it was always the same. people would rather shame you for your love life than be quiet. in the past you did joke that you went on many dates, clearly the media didn’t care if you were joking or not.
your manager had even banned you from looking at the really negative comments on your phone. twitter was having a field day with your love life.
“slut!” was the phrase often directed towards you. while your loyal fans defend you, you could still see all the hurtful things people said about you.
“do you want to cancel tomorrow’s interview?” lisa, your manager, asked one day. you hadn’t answered your phone at all and she was concerned so she drove to your new york apartment and let herself in with the spare key she had. she had found you in the darkness of your room curled up with your plethora of blankets.
“cancel everything. i just want to rest for a while.” you managed to say. lisa was like your second mom. she cared about you more than anything.
“we can do that.” lisa assured.
“lisa?” you turned to face her.
“yes?”
“thanks for checking on me.”
“always.”
after that conversation, lisa made some calls and any movie or tv show deal you had were quickly cancelled. over the next few days, the media found out that you pulled out of many movies from big franchises like marvel and star wars. it was always a dream of yours to be in anything marvel or star wars related, but for now, those projects had to continue without you.
many friends and colleagues reached out to you, but all you could do was send a simple ‘thank you’ and be done with it.
days passed and you were still in your apartment. you didn’t mind being alone, you liked it better that way. sometimes lisa or your parents would drop by or even your upstairs neighbor, mrs. davis, a nice old lady who knew that your favorite cupcakes were red velvet so she made you some to cheer you up.
it was a tuesday afternoon when you heard someone cursing multiple out in the hallway. you figured someone got locked out so you ignored it. pretty much everyone in the entire building got locked out at least once. you were ignoring the cursing as you continued reading your book and ate your red velvet cupcake that your kind neighbor had made you. a few seconds later, you heard a knock on your door.
“no.” you groaned as you stood up to answer the door. you opened it to find tom. you had only known him because you had a mutual friend so you were surprised to see him at your door.
“hi,” he spoke. “i called and texted . . a lot. i just wanted to see how you were.”
“i’m alive as you can see.” you said.
“i know you’ve been asked this question a lot lately but are you okay?”
that’s when you broke down. you couldn’t keep it together in front of tom, but he didn’t mind comforting you. somehow he knew exactly what you needed to hear.
he would often come over to keep you company when lisa or your parents couldn’t. he understood you didn’t want to step foot outside so he didn’t force you. instead, you two would go up to the terrace of your apartment building and hang out. tom would bring lunch or dinner depending on the time that he decided to visit. during that time, you two would talk about whatever would come to mind. tom did his best to avoid talking about work, but you always asked how his filming was going or if he had auditioned for anything new.
“i got the part,” he admitted. “i’m playing billy the kid.” he smiled brightly.
“I’m so happy for you, tom! you deserve it!” you hugged him.
“it’ll be announced next week. you’re the first to know, well apart from my manager.” he chuckled.
“you deserve that and more.” you smiled.
“you do too. other people should see that,” tom said. “you’re so talented and amazing and everything about you is so. . . incredible. i wish people see you the way i do.”
you were speechless.
“are you okay?” tom asked when he noticed you were quiet.
fuck. fuck. fuck FUCK he thought to himself
“you mean it?” you managed to say. you could feel yourself start to blush.
“every bit and more. i enjoy being with you and if i could be with you for the rest of my life then i would die a happy man.”
#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth imagine#actress!reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth fanfic#tom blyth one shot
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Hello Jade! I have a request for hotch if that’s okay, I was thinking something like he’s dating sunshine!reader who goes to a police precinct with the team and the sheriff/deputy insults Hotch in front of her (maybe she’s not part of the BAU so he doesn’t realise she knows Hotch?) and she snaps and punches him/pushes him to the ground and afterwards she’s really quiet and refusing to tell anyone what happened cause she doesn’t want Hotch to hear that people were bad mouthing him. Everyone is confused cause she’s usually so bubbly and it’s disconcerting to see her so stern but she has to protect her man damnit 😤
(Ps I’m the anon who got confused about rules n you’re right I was looking under guidelines not requests 🤦🏼♀️ sorry!)
hi babe, thank you for your request! (and no worries at all, no sorry necessary!!)
—hotch is dumbfounded when you slap a deputy sheriff, but you have your heartfelt reasons. fem, 2k
You're not specifically BAU, but when Hotch calls, you answer. You don't look BAU either in your skirt with your blue laptop carry case; twice you're asked what you're doing in the precinct and if you need assistance, but eventually you get to the centre of the action upstairs, meandering through the detective's desks toward a conference room with a sticky-taped sign that says to knock before entering.
"Hey, Spencer," you say, shouldering open the door. "They leave you behind?"
Spencer turns away from his white board. "I'm more useful here right now. Did you bring the ethernet cable for Garcia?"
You put your laptop case on the table and pull out her desired cable. "Where is she?" It's hard-pressed for Penelope to be found anywhere away from her computer during case times. You must get twenty or more rejection emails a month from your fellow tech analysist. Sorry, working a case :'(
"Bathroom. There's a kitchen if you need coffee. You have a badge?"
You flash your visitor's badge at him. "Get you one?"
"Four sugars. Thanks, L/N."
You flash him a smile. The kitchen is back the way you came and to the right. It's nowhere near big enough for the workforce, three tables and one microwave next to a sink full of mugs. You smile at anyone who looks at you and beeline for a coffee pot. No one questions you. They must be used to outsiders invading their space this week.
"Mean fucking guy."
You tilt your head to the side, hand paused in their cup cabinet above the sink. You shouldn't be nosy, but they're not being very quiet, either.
"He has to be mean, I guess. That's a tight ship to run," says a second voice.
"I'd understand it if I thought they were getting somewhere. It's been four days, and between the string bean and his pushpin map and that tech girl who won't shut up? They're doomed. The boss is either too stubborn or too damn stupid to realise."
You close the cabinet and turn around.
"I fucking hate this shit. Ties in their suit jackets coming into our investigation and chasing the wrong leads. We could've had Miller in cuffs two days ago if Hotchner hadn't shut us down, two days ago! And now another kid is dead, and there's not a drop of remorse on him. He doesn't care about doing his job, he–"
"He what?" you ask. Your heart is beating hard before you've so much as parted your lips, your hands trembling. You screw them into tight balls.
"Excuse me?"
Your opposition is a rough hewn man in a deputies badge, a cup of coffee held between two paws. He narrows thick salt and pepper brows at your question, his mouth screwed into a telling snarl.
"You think Agent Hotchner doesn't care about his job? So why is he here? Why did he agree to take the case?"
"Who the fuck are you?"
You shake your head in annoyance and take the FBI badge from your little cross body bag. You toss it on the table, your beaming face looking up at him a juxtaposition to the glare you wear now.
He stands up from his table. The lunch room hushes but the riot of precinct cacophony stays strong just outside of the door, a thrum that battles your roaring heart. You're so angry you can barely speak, and it'll only get worse.
"I'm sorry you have to hear it from me, darling, I am, but your boss out there? Agent Hotchner?" The deputy scoffs. "He's a fool running blind. He turned away from the real issue here. He's a prideful, narcissistic idiot who's let the power of his paycheck get to his head, and as far as I'm concerned? So long as he stops us from arresting Jaden Miller? He's a murderer, too. The blood is on his hands."
You know you're going to slap him from the moment he says 'murderer', but the knee to his crotch straight after is a surprise even to yourself. All you're thinking for one horrible white-hot moment is How can I hurt him? It's shameful, and you slam your knee up a second time anyhow.
—
"You can tell me what happened now or later, but it's going to be much easier on you if you tell me now."
Hotch hates this part. What he wouldn't give to have someone else here to reprimand you. He understands why Gideon left and he wouldn't want him back unwillingly, but Hotch thinks your nightly phone call may go over smoother tonight if it were Gideon standing in his place. Half the time Hotch finds he's uninterested in scolding you. It's why you stay firmly in your department and away from his bias in the BAU. He can't be optimal at his job while you're around.
It's not limited to telling you off, of course. When you're near, he wants to act like it. He wants to take your hand, hold your arm, rub a palm between your shoulders. He wants to pull you into his lap, or pinch the soft lobe of your ear between his fingers to watch you shiver, blow warm air at the back of your neck to hear your laugh. This cold silence is his worst nightmare, but he can't cross the line.
Well, he can't cross the line too much.
In the privacy of a cordoned, borrowed office, Hotch can sit beside you. The blinds are closed, and his intimidation act wasn't getting him anywhere anyways. More flies with honey than vinegar.
"I can't show favouritism here, do you understand? Especially when you're being physically violent against the deputy sheriff." Hotch watches the soft pillow of your bottom lip tremble in a private terror. "I know you wouldn't do this for no reason. I know. Give me a reason to take your side and I will."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Did he say something inappropriate?"
You don't answer.
"Did he?" Hotch can feel the anger he's been pushing down start to rise. When a woman like you, happy-go-lucky, pretty, and always smiling, turns to violence, it's not hard to picture why. He knows full well the horrible things a man can say to a woman. "Please, trust me to take care of this."
"Hotch, I really don't want to talk about this. You can reprimand me, send me home."
"No. Tell me what he said."
You glare at him. Hotch finds with a heart-skipping hurt that it's the first time he's been on the receiving end of your disdain. "No. I don't want to."
"And I don't want to send you home." He knows how he looks, stony-eyed and furrowed brow. He has to try hard to relax into a more neutral expression. "I won't. Not when I know you'd never hurt someone."
"Well, I did."
"We all do things we don't mean to in anger."
In the quiet, he can hear Emily asking loud questions about what happened, and her almost comedic gasp as someone informs her of the situation. Morgan couldn't find the words to tell Hotch over the phone what happened, just told him to hurry back, and it was doubly difficult to get the story out of Spencer, who'd been the one responsible for standing in your way.
"He called her a bitch," Spencer told him. "I didn't want to hold her back after that."
The sheriff deputy has a good hundred pounds on you, so no matter what he called you, Hotch is glad you were pulled away.
Hearing that you'd been called a bitch set his nerves aflame. When Spencer explained that this was said by a man on his knees after a swift jab to the crotch, Hotch was more confused.
He follows a whim. He's biassed for sure, but he knows you're the most beautiful woman in any room that you walk into. It doesn't shock him that a high-ranking authority figure would take advantage of his position to make a pass at you.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he says softly. "Whatever he said to you, I– I'm not supposed to support violence, but I understand if it got too much. Sexual harassment is unjustifiable, and I'll stand with you and your actions completely."
"He didn't harass me, Aaron," you say, looking down at your knees. You're wearing dark stockings, pinching at the fabric distractedly.
"Did he touch you?"
"No, Aaron–" You sigh frustratedly. "I don't want to tell you what he said because it's not true."
"He insulted you?"
"He insulted you." You glance at him and then away. "I couldn't stand it."
If there weren't cameras in the room he'd bundle you into his arms and kiss the slope of your cheek, because how is he supposed to handle this? You're hitting people when they talk bad about him now?
Hotch doesn't need to ask to know it was bad. You're a well-meaning, well-adjusted person. You'd hardly hit somebody for calling Hotch a jerk. Something severe would've been said to have pushed you over the edge, but, to his detriment, Hotch has heard a thousand awful things about himself from a thousand different mouths, and he doesn't worry about what it was.
"Alright. Listen to me carefully." Your shoulders stiffen. "I don't want you hurting people over me. I don't need you to defend me. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, and I certainly don't want you assaulting people on my behalf."
Your lip again begins to tremble. "I'm sorry."
"No. Don't be sorry." He covers your knee in his hand gently, ducking his head to meet your glassy eyes. He's gone about this the wrong way, upsetting you unnecessarily. He rushes to correct it. "I love that you want to defend me, I love that you did, and it isn't lost on me how much it means to have you at my side, but… You could have been seriously injured. Honey, picking on someone your own size is a double-sided coin. What if the deputy hit you back?"
"I'm not afraid of getting hurt."
He leans down more, imploring, desperate to be heard. "I'm afraid of you getting hurt. Me. I'm worried someone's going to hurt you when I'm not around."
"He was saying all this stuff about you and it wasn't true–"
"It's okay," he says, shaking his head slowly from one side to another. "It doesn't matter. I know what people like him think of me, and he's not in an easy position." He drops his voice to a murmur for your ears alone. "I'm not saying you should agree with him, I can't tell you that I like him much."
You laugh weakly, the sound quickly melding to a sniffle. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I shouldn't have hit him. I don't know what came over me."
"We get angry for the people we care about."
He can't kiss you, really, not at work, but he can show you some heavy affection. It's a boundary crossed. Luckily, Hotch knows you won't report him.
"Thank you for defending me. You can stay on the case if you promise not to do it again," he says, squeezing your smaller hand in his, drawing a lopsided heart with his thumb into the back of it.
"I'll promise not to do it again if he promises to keep his stupid mouth closed," you mutter.
"Is it wrong of me to like this version of you?" he says.
You look him straight in the eye, your usual lightness restored, if dimmed just a touch. "I like all your versions, Agent Hotchner."
"Good. Remind the version that's your boyfriend to treat you accordingly tonight. Okay?"
You nod emphatically, both relieved and chastened. "Okay. Thanks, handsome."
You look tired. Tonight, he'll kiss you like he means it, maybe a touch too rough but apparently you're a hard ass now who can handle it, and he'll hold you close even if he can't give you the attention you deserve until the case is done. He'll make sure you know how much he appreciates your protection, rub your back for hours just the way you like it while sleep fails.
"You're welcome," he says. He has more to say but there's no more time to waste. There's still work to be done.
It'll come easier with you at his side, he's sure.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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Cry Baby
Pairing: Matt x crybaby!popular!reader
Wordcount : 3.3K+
Summary: you were popular. The jester of the group. But atleast it was something. Nobody knew just how much you’d been struggling, until your secrets were exposed in the school cafeteria.
Warnings: swearing, angst, crying, mentioned of depression, Matt’s PoV, sensitive!reader, mentions of SH, SH mocking, humiliation, exposing secrets, fake friends, hurt/comfort, pet names (baby), use of y/n
(A/N: I wrote this based of this song. Bcs I was listening to it and had this scenario in my head, so I wrote it down.)
You had always been a bit of a crybaby.
You’re the oldest sibling. Your mother thought she couldn’t have any children, but she had. You were a blessing to her.
So after you were born you were never put down. Someone was always with you. To keep you from crying, entertaining you. Caving to your needs.
But once you got to kindergarten, it seemed that all those times your parents hushed you and made sure you didn’t cry had bottled up.
You didn’t speak a lot. You didn’t like socializing with people. You kept to yourself and that’s how you liked it.
You had severe attachment issues to your mom though. Because of her always being with you to soothe you, her not being there seemed like a nightmare.
So when she dropped you off at kindergarden, every day, you would cry, begging your mom to stay.
Eventually you got used to it, but you quickly found a friend to cling to.
Emma, was your one and only friend. The only person you talked to.
It was pretty much the same in elementary school. You’d trod around and talk to people. You were a bubbly social kid.
But you were also easy to break.
You didn’t have a lot of friends. All friends you had were only people you’d hang around in recess.
Emma stuck with you though.
Until, middle school.
In middle school you’d, for some reason, fallen into a depressive mindset.
Emma and you were in your awkward middle school phases. And in that time she’d become really rude.
And one day during a fight she told you how much she hated listening to your sobs.
You’d been vulnerable around her. You had trusted her.
And she’d broken that trust. By telling you that every time you had seeked her comfort she actually didn’t want to give it to you.
Your heart’s too big for your body.
You two stopped talking after that day. Until four months later Emma apologized for her words. You, being an empath, excepted the apology and went back to being friends with her.
Little did she know that her words rang through your head while you cut yourself.
A few months after you became friend again, she moved. She moved out of the country. You never saw her again.
So for high school you had taken it spoon yourself to mask your depression and ‘get over yourself’.
You started to dress more basic, learning to do your make up, hair, skincare. And basically everything to hide your miserable state the best you could.
Somehow it worked.
You had good facial proportions, and just a little bit of work you looked like a basic mean girl who is full of herself. But that was exactly the point.
Somehow, once High school started, you managed to get into the clique of the popular girls.
You were always so upbeat, cheery and talkative. No one could ever guess that you’re the most depressive mother fucker in a 50 mile radius.
Though as much as you would like the power of being the leader of the group, you were not. You were more like the jester of the group than anything.
You had held your mental breakdowns to a minimum. Holding back as much as you could. You only had Few panic attacks nowadays. And if you had one in school, you always had a touch up make up bag there.
Now it was senior year. You got ready like usual, not knowing that today would alter your life and the way people perceive you.
Matt’s PoV
I watch in horror.
Y/n is one of the popular girls in our school.
I’m not too popular. But I’m well known, all due to the fact that I’m a triplet. And due to the fact that Nick and Chris are really extroverted people.
Both of them are currently not with me.
Chris is sick at home. While Nick is in the library with some of our female friends.
I sit at my table with the lacrosse team around Me.
The entire cafeteria has their eyes focused on y/n.
She was arguably the prettiest out of all the popular girls.
But right now she was crying, Biting her lip. Her head tilted forward in shame at the claims her group was throwing at her.
The leader of the popular girls, Kelly, was accusing y/n of stealing her boyfriend at first, yelling right in her face. She yelled right back at Kelly though, not scared to stand up for herself.
But Kelly being the leader of the group, all the other girls sided with her.
I never understood why people would talk, or would argue, about stuff like this in public places. It was humiliating.
I was getting second hand embarrassment just watching.
The insults were getting more and more personal by the second.
Nobody was doing anything, captivated by the scene unfolding in front of them. Some people have their phones out filming for, ..who knows what reason.
I drown out most of the insults-
“IS THAT WHY YOU FUCKING CUT YOURSELF?” Kelly yells right back in y/n’s face.
The cafeteria had already been quiet. But with those words even the quiet conversations stopped. It seemed like everyone’s attention snapped back to the scene.
It was the passerby effect in full force. No one was doing anything, too shocked. Not even the teachers that were present said anything.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
My ear start ringing, my eyes staying glued on y/n.
To me, it was obvious that something about y/n was off. She was polished to perfection. To a concerning degree. Nobody was that perfect.
So the revelation didn’t necessarily shock me. But the fact that Kelly was heartless enough to air y/n’s business out like that.
“I don’t.” Y/n’s words cut harshly through the quiet cafeteria. Her words are insistent like she was telling the truth.
She was a great liar, yet everyone would believe Kelly over her. Even if it was a lie.
“Oh but you do.” Kelly scoffs looking at the people y/n used to call friends. They all nod at Kelly’s statement.
“You have those scars all over your wrists.” Kelly points out nodding down to y/n’s wrists.
It’s like everyone takes a collective look down at her arms to see if something is actually there.
Me being so far away from their table I can’t see it clearly. But I really don’t want to anyway.
I watch as Y/n lets her head fall forward letting out a small laugh, shocking everyone in the cafeteria including me.
Y/n’s hands are trembling and shaking. She purses her lips looking back up at Kelly who looks at her with superiority.
Y/n picks her head back up and leans her head up to readjust her hair. Her hands ball into fists before she crosses her arms, trying to keep her composure.
Even from being a few tables away from the scene i can clearly see the tears running down her cheeks.
She huffs a laugh through a sob.
“Some friends you fucking are” she says harshly her glare focused on the girls around Kelly that she used to call friends.
The cafeteria is silent again for a moment the only thing heard being y/n’s soft sniffles
“Crybaby” one of the girls huffs under her breath, but its loud and clear in the silent cafeteria.
“Fuck you Rebecca.” I hear y/n’s voice snap at the girl. Despite crying her tone was still sharp.
“What’re you gonna do about it, gonna go home and cut yourself some more?” Another one of the girls in the group scoffs.
Y/n lets out another miserable chuckle hearing the comment.
I purse my lips remaining seated. I probably look miserable right now. I don’t want to be watching this. Hell I would like to stop this, but I can’t.
Before y/n can fire back though more and more comments from all the girls pore out. And the more: “you gonna kill yourself?” “you gonna cut yourself?” remarks they make the more humiliated y/n looks.
By the end of their relentless comments and bullying y/n is crying sobbing. And as someone with anxiety I can see the inevitable anxiety attack, in the way her entire body shakes.
With a strong “fuck you all” to her former friends y/n turns in her heels and leaves.
The cafeteria is quiet for a moment before the room breaks out in conversation, everyone gossiping about the scene they just witnessed. Debating how much of what was said was true.
I feel sick to my stomach knowing I had watched a girl just get torn down by her own, so called friends, like that, and didn’t do anything.
I mumble an excuse to my friends leaving the table. They don’t even seem to care emerged in their own conversations about the ‘gossip’.
I speed walk out of the cafeteria to find y/n.
There are only two places I can think of her being at. The girls bathroom, wich is probably not the case since she looked like she wanted to get as far away as possible,
Or her car.
She’d parked next to my van today. So I run out of the school to my car, to see hers still parked next to mine. I glance into it and she’s not in the drivers seat.
I get closer, catching my breath. I look through the window of the backseat seeing her sitting there curled up in on herself.
I knock on the car window catching her attention. Y/n’s beautiful teary eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.
She presses on a button on her car keys, the car unlocking.
Immediately I open the car door and slide in. My gaze soft as I look at the hyperventilating girl in front of me.
I close the door behind me. I gently take the car keys out of her hands. She was clinging to it like her life depended on it. I lock the car again and then lean to the front of the car and toss her keys on the drivers seat.
I turn back to y/n, she had her legs up to her chest hugging them while she continues to sob.
“Matt” she breaths out my name so tenderly.
We weren’t friends. But we shared one class in which we partnered up sometimes.
“Sh, you’re okay y/n” I breathe out. In an instant, my arms wrap around her smaller frame pulling her into me. I hug her from the side, her sobs wracking her body.
“No, no it’s not okay.” She lets out an irritated sigh, her breath hitching as a sobs Tores through her body again. “I just lost all my friends.”
I purse my lips holding her head. I cradle her into my chest. She didn’t deserve to have her stuff aired out like that, but all she was worried about was loosing her fake ass friends?
“Oh baby.” I sigh out. The nickname slips through my lips so effortlessly I didn’t even notice.
I keep her head cradled into my chest while I feel tears start to form in my own eyes.
“They ruined it.” She chokes out again, her voice shaky.
I breathe in heavily. “They ruined what?” I ask gently.
“My reputation”
I pause. My lips quiver at the sound of her cries. I try to blink away my own tears.
“That’s all you care about?” The words leave my lips before they register. I know she cares about all the things others say to her. She just seems like the type to.
“Matt, I spend so much time,” she sobs through the few words she said. Pausing to cry some more at the thought of it. “So, so much time, perfecting myself.”
I hear her pause again, and by this point I can’t hold back my own tears. I let out a soft sob crying with her as I hold her even closer to myself.
“I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s none of their business” her words are soft. But the more she talks the more quiet she gets.
In a way she was like me. Masking her sorrow like that. She always just seemed too perfect to be true.
Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect face. Great humor, nice, kind, popular.
But nobody ever questioned it. She had everyone fooled. She was a great liar. And even though I had my suspicions she never gave me a reason to believe I was right.
I just thought I was delusional for reading into things.
But I was right.
As much as I wish I wasn’t.
“I’m so sorry.” I whisper. I try to breathe hard as to not sob like she was. I wanted to comfort her not cry with her.
She pulls away slightly. I look at her. She still has tears running down her cheeks, not looking like it’d stop soon. She looks up at me through her tear stained lashes, her mascara only slightly smudged.
Her lips quivers as I see another wave of sadness wash over her. “Why are you crying?” She asks her voice shaky. She lets out another choked sob.
Her hands cup my cheeks as we both cry looking at the other. “Please don’t cry,” the sight of my tears only seems to make her more sad.
But seeing the way she looked crying, I only wanted to cry harder.
She still looked perfect. Though her makeup was smudged slightly, her hair messy, her perfect features stained with her tears.
I gently grab her wrists slowly pulling her hands off of my face. I pull up the sleeve of her longs sleeved shirt and flip her arm to look at her wrist.
My gut clenches at the sight of the tiny white healed marks. They were barely noticeable anymore.
I had noticed them before when we had partnered up for some project. But out of respect I didn’t say anything. Besides they weren’t that bad, thin, white stripes messily across her wrist.
For all I knew it could’ve been her cat. I don’t have a cat, and neither have I seen self harm cuts before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.
I purse my lips. I let my head fall forward slightly my eyes closed. I feel sick to my stomach knowing someone as perfect as y/n was, or had been cutting herself at some point.
I hear a choked sob fall from her lips. I feel her intense stare burn through my scalp.
I pick up my head again, my eyes immediately looking to hers. She was crying again. Making me also shed a few tears again.
I bring her wrist up to my face leaving a gentle peck on it.
She watches me. The sight only making her cry more. She closes her eyes briefly.
It wasn’t like she’d expected me out of all people to shame her for her scars. But she also hadn’t expected him to just kiss them.
“You didn’t deserve that sweetheart.” I whisper under my breath. I pull her back in leaving a firm kiss on her forehead before cradling her head back into my chest.
She breaks out into sobs again her arms going under mine and hugging me tightly.
She was clinging to me tightly, her sobs wrecking her body, and also making me cry.
I gently pat down her hair,as she keeps crying, trying to soothe both of us.
“Y/n.” She pulls back slightly, her arm still wrapped around me. “Do you still..” I trail off not wanting to say it. Because if I say it, it’ll be too true.
Her lip quivers as I see her glossy eyes shed tears again. She lets out a gut wrenching sob again pressing her face into my chest again, mumbling “I’m sorry”s over and over again.
I sigh sympathetically, rubbing her scalp. I knew from experience, that after crying so much, your head would hurt so bad. And even though she was still crying I wanted to soothe her.
“Honey.” I say gently pulling her away from me. Our eyes meet briefly before she looks down in shame. I gently grab her cheek again making her look back up at me.
“Where do you cut?” I ask softly. I grimace at the words leaving my lips. I calmed down not crying anymore, but my eyes staying glassy.
Her eyebrows are scrunched together as she slightly pouts. Her eyes were still glassy, threatening to break out in sobs again.
“I don’t do it often..” she whispers under her breath, trying to over herself. Her eyes close briefly shame written all other her face.
“Where.” My tone is still low, but more firm, demanding an answer.
“My thigh.” She lets one of her Chanda fall from around me resting her hand on her very upper right thigh.
My eyes soften even further. My tears had dried in my face by now, but I felt just about ready to cry again.
I shift slightly. Her hand that had still been around me going to the bottom of my shirt and keeping a firm grip on the fabric.
I put my hand on her waist my touch featherlight, not wanting to overstep. “Is this okay?”
She purses her lips. Her eyes stay locked on mine as she tries to read what I’m trying to do. But she ultimately nods.
I put both my hands on her waist and pick her up from next to me putting her on my lap. She lets out a shaky breath her eyes going wide.
“Is this okay?” I enquirer my tone staying low.
Her bottom lip wobbles again. She closes her eyes briefly. “I don’t wanna go anything.” She breaths out her voice small and almost afraid.
My own eyes widen for a second looking back at her. I just realized how bad this looked without context. But I’m not a dick. I want to comfort her, not get in her pants.
I take my hands from her waist putting them on my thighs. Yet she doesn’t make a move off of me. Her hand stayed bunched up on my shirt.
“God, I don’t mean it like that.” I breathe out. “Just, me comforting you would be easier like this?” I says slowly.
Her gaze goes up to meet mine again, her lip quivering holding herself back from crying again.
She leans forward resting her face on my collarbone. She puts her other hand on my chest too as she starts to sob again. my right hand goes to her back rubbing it gently. While my left hand goes to her thigh massaging where her scars presumably were.
Her crying makes me tear up again. So we just cry together. My hand rubbing soothing motions into her back, and my other hand finally going up to cradle her head into me further.
I whisper encouraging words. Until eventually her cries die down, and so do mine.
She pulls back slightly, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The tip of her nose and her cheeks red. And her lips as puffy as her eyes. She is a pretty crier, but the sight still makes me feel remorseful.
I put my hand back on her right thigh gently rubbing circles on it. My other hand going to cup her cheek. She leans into my touch relaxing more. She looked more tired than anything now.
“You can always talk to me, you know that.” I breath out, finally feeling like the lump in my throat was gone.
Her hand cups my wrist keeping my hand in her face. I start to rub her cheek gently looking at her pretty face.
“You can stay with me, Nick and Chris. Alright?” She nods slightly in answer.
I move my hand from her cheek to her hair rubbing at her scalp slightly. “You want me to take you home pretty girl?” I ask softly.
After all we were still in the school parking lot.
“Please.”
Masterlist
A/N: I actually cried writing this. the first part was actually literally me. and i also used to cry a lot, and cut, so this just made me cry while writing, bcs i relate to it so much. i love you all, stay safe & clean <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
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—𓆩[something worse]𓆪—
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Tobias Eaton (Four) x Fem! Dauntless Born! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Four had been together since he chose Dauntless, especially because you were one of the Dauntless born pulled into training. You both had never put a label on your relationship because it never seemed right, but everyone knew that you both were a couple, except the newest tributes you both were training, no matter how obvious you both made it. It seems you both have to make it a little more obvious.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - so sorry I was writing this during a final and it might suck I’m sorry 😭 || cursing || unprotected sex || creampie || oral || fingering
You were used to wandering eyes, you really were, your partner was literally the hottest man in Dauntless. It didn’t really matter about wandering eyes though when they knew you both were together, label or not, but it seemed to be difficult to get through the mind of one of the new initiates.
You weren’t born Abnegation like either of them, you were a bitch and you made sure everyone knew it. You were a lovable bitch though, that’s why you were being fucked every night by the hottest man in all of the factions.
It passed through your mind to just show her, get Four to tell her something is going on in a certain area just to pull him there to fuck you. You passed it through Tori just to make sure, and she said no though, so you decided not to go through with it.
Maybe that’s why you were watching Four fix Tris’ position because she wouldn’t stick with it when Eric did it. It made your skin crawl, staring at the two of them. Maybe it did feel right that he was with someone from his home faction, didn’t he like selfless people? You were selfless in your own way, right? He knew that.
“Hey, you okay?” Uriah asks you, a smile quickly making its way to your face.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, thank you. I’m going to go see how some of the kids are doing, you mind telling Four?” You start collecting your stuff, inhaling deeply as Uriah follows you.
“He’s coming over here.”
You shoot up as Four stands in front of you, his brow raised. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go do my time at the school,” you say, smiling slightly. “I just… haven’t seen King in a while.”
Four sighs. “Well… I can go with you in a minute, okay? King likes me, right?”
You laugh, slowly lifting your arms to wrap your arms around his neck before pausing. Public displays of affection were never really your thing, but you really wanted to.
Four saw you pause, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist as you smiled and wrapped yours around his neck. “Everyone likes you, Four,” you teased, giggling. “But I love you.”
He smiles back, leaning down for a soft kiss as you tugged on his hair. “I love you too.”
You pulled his hands closer to your form, pulling his face into your neck as you looked over his shoulder just enough to wink at Tris before pulling away. “Let’s go see King.”
He nods, letting you lead him out of the training area and to the school. Dauntless didn’t teach like Erudite did, but they made sure that the children of the faction learned things needed to survive in the faction. King was a child of two Dauntless soldiers who had died exploring beyond the wall, and as a result, you both took him in sort of like your own.
Seeing you with a child really made Four want to give you a child, especially with how good you were with kids, but it never really seemed to be the right time.
That was until he saw you twirling another boy in your eyes, King cleaning one of Four’s guns while the older man oiled up one of the other ones. The younger boy was named Chris, someone whose parents got caught up in a mission and you both took him home just for a while.
“She looks good with a baby, right?” King asks, smiling. “Y/N was always good with kids. She was good with me,” he mumbles now, smiling. “I’m doing well in my training. She said that.”
“You are,” Four said with a smile. “You’re doing really well. Ranked third, kid, you’re doing good,” he leaned forward and ruffled his hair with a laugh. “Want you to get that first spot, though.”
King grins. “I will.”
Someone knocks making you fix Chris on your hip, quickly walking toward the door as Four stands. “Stay there,” he orders to King as you open the door, raising a brow when you see Tris. “Who is it?”
“Uhm… can I help you?”
She inhaled. “I just… I’m here to see Four.”
“Four, honey!” You yell out, the tall man coming behind you and settling a hand on your hip. “One of the trainees wants to speak with you.”
Four raised a brow. “Everything alright?”
Oh, the Abnegation was coming out.
“Y-Yeah, everything’s fine-”
“Perfect,” Four smiles, taking Chris from your arms and setting him on the ground. “King, come here!”
The older boy quickly walks over, standing just like Four. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you take Chris down to eat? Tris will join you both,” Four says making King’s nose scrunch. “What?”
“Don’t forget I sleep here too.” King takes Chris’ hand, looking back just a bit. “Don’t forget I have a bed! That’s my bed!”
“Bye, King!” You laughed as Four grinned, closing the door as his other hand held your waist.
You couldn’t stop smiling, giggling as you stared up at him. “You did that, didn’t you?”
His smile grows, just a bit. “Yeah, I did. Uriah kind of… hinted it to me.”
You hummed. “Good, because I would've done something worse,” you said, slowly stepping back and pushing your hands into his tight black shirt. “I was this close.”
“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” He asked, smiling as the back of your knees bumps against the bed. His rough hands slip under your shirt, rubbing against your back as though he could feel the black ink you had gotten tattooed.
“Was gonna make her catch us fucking in the corridor,” you giggled as Four slipped off your shirt, humming as he leaned down. “Who said we always have to fuck on the bed? You like that idea?”
He nodded into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses to your skin as you started to lean back, his hands securely catching you before you could fall back fully. Carefully, he sets you down, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck down your chest. “I fucking love that idea,” he mumbled, his hand slowly rubbing circles against your thigh. “You want to go do that now?”
It was a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “No,” you say, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “You already got me here. Why move?”
He smiled even wider, leaning down as his hands moved to your hips to slowly tug at the tactile pants you wore. “I was thinking,” he whispers as you pull him down to press kisses to his neck. You could see the black peeking out from his shirt, pulling it off of him easily as he pulled away just to slip it off before pulling off your own. “You looked good with Chris on your hip.”
You paused, looking up at him. “You think so?”
He nodded, his hands tugging at your sports bra as your hands dragged down his back. He kneels over your body, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest. “I know so. You’re a natural with kids, angel, you’re fucking perfect.”
The slight husk in his voice made a shiver run up your back, your stomach twisting and heat flooding into your underwear as he lets his hot mouth suck at your lower stomach. “D-Does that mean something?”
He smiled, looking up at you. “Did I just get a Dauntless-born to stutter?”
You blushed madly, looking away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Four.”
He laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone before he slowly starts to pull your underwear off, his fingers dancing along your thighs as you squirmed, gasping as he pressed a firm kiss to your clit. It makes you squirm, his fingers replacing his lips as he kisses lower and lower.
“F-Fuck,” you whimper as the tip of his fingers slowly prod against your cunt, his mouth sucking and licking around his fingers as your hands push into his hair. “F-Four, you’re being too nice.”
He laughs, pulling away just for a minute as he slowly pushes a thick finger into you, watching as your hips buck into the air and your back arches. “Maybe it’s the Abnegation?”
You shook your head, reaching a hand down to push his fingers deeper into your pussy. It makes you whine, a gasp coming from your lips as he pulls them out just for a second to add another finger. “Abnegation is selfless, my darling, maybe it’s the Amity? J-Just, don’t stop.”
He laughs, popping a kiss to your cunt before pushing his fingers deeper into you, watching as you squirmed. Moans fall from your lips as he pressed firm circles against your clit, the sensitive bud making you whine loudly, hips bucking.
His fingers curl inside of you, pushing his tongue into you with his fingers as you tug on his hair and your other hand finds his cheek.
You felt your stomach twisting, hips bucking uncontrollably as you attempted to ride his fingers. You gasped as his fingers curled inside of you, attempting to find that one soft spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. It didn’t take him long to find, especially because he’s memorized your body over the years and he groaned as you clenched around him.
“Come on honey, cum for me. Want to watch you cum.”
Your eyes rolled back, whimpering as he pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you to watch your pussy flutter. Your stomach twists, loud groaning falling from your lips as your stomach twists. Your hips buck, eyes rolling back as he sucked on your cunt, swallowing loudly as he pulled out his fingers.
He pulled away, sitting up as he pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his cock, hissing as you raised your legs to wrap around his waist. He grunts as he slowly pushes into you, eyes rolling back as he leaned down to hold himself up with his elbows, pulling you in for a kiss. “Fucking hell, I want to see you with my kids so bad,” he groaned, gasping as you pulled him down for a kiss. “Want to see you pregnant over and over again.”
You whined, his hips moving quickly as the bed pounded into the wall, your nails dragging down his back. His cock rammed into your pussy, strong thrusts making your eyes roll back as he pressed his lips to your neck. “You want that honey? Want to be fucked, round and full with my kids?”
You nodded, whining loudly. “Yes! Yes, I do!”
He grunts loudly, slamming into you just to feel your pussy clench along his entire shaft, a broken moan leaving his lips as you cum again around him. “Fuck.”
“Fuck, fuck! Four!” You yelled out as he reaches down to rub firm circles into your clit, rutting his hips just a few more times as he came inside you for the first time without protection.
It was an odd feeling, but filling as he groaned loudly, your cunt continued to clench around him to milk him of everything he had. It was warm, and if you could feel sticky-ness inside of you, it would be this. You whimper as he starts to pull out, trying to reach forward to pull him back in before he grabs your legs, pushing them back so your knees were on your shoulders.
“You don’t think we’re done yet, do you? Gotta make sure this sticks.”
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Steve and Eddie go through the whole adoption process in 1996, despite how difficult it was to find somewhere willing to help them at all and despite their conflicted feelings on adoption.
The way they saw it though, providing a loving home for a child who needed one was better than the alternative. Eddie had enough experience with temporary foster homes to know stability was better than constant moving and questionable foster parents.
They get a foster placement almost immediately, a six year old girl named Amelia. She’s quiet, but not in a way that worries them. She’s very focused, and enjoys going to school more than any regular children’s hobbies. Neither of them know what to do with that other than keep encouraging it.
She stays for months, months turn into a year, and the agency finally gives them the go ahead to complete the adoption process.
But they don’t do anything without talking to Amelia.
She’s happy there, her therapist signs off on it immediately and explains that Amelia has shown more personality development and less signs of trauma with them than she had even living at home. Not to mention they actually brought her to appointments, unlike her previous guardians.
To celebrate, they throw a party with all their friends and family and tell Amelia she can invite anyone from school she wants. She invites everyone.
Turns out their daughter is a social butterfly and is friends with everyone.
At the party, Eddie pulls out his guitar, plays a bunch of popular kid-friendly songs after a very scathing look from Steve as a reminder to behave.
Amelia walks over to him after a few songs, on a sugar high like he’d never seen on her before, and asks to play the guitar.
He’s hesitant, but not because he’s still protective of his guitars, more because he doesn’t want her to embarrass herself in front of her friends. Kids are cruel, even and especially at seven, and the last thing he wants is this to be the thing that kids talk about for the next ten years.
She sits on the couch and holds it, arranging her fingers…correctly. Eddie watches.
Steve is watching from across the room.
She starts strumming, very quietly at first, not as confident as she’d been a moment ago. And then she starts really playing.
It’s one of the songs Eddie wrote. He played it for the last four months nonstop as he perfected it, and she’d apparently been watching.
Eddie’s jaw is on the floor and he quickly looks over to Steve, who has a similar look of surprise on his face.
He doesn’t interrupt her. She makes it through the entire song.
She looks up.
“When did you learn to play guitar?” Eddie asks.
“When I was watching you.”
“But have you played before tonight?”
Amelia shook her head, looking down. “Didn’t wanna touch it without asking.”
Eddie pulls the guitar from her hands and sets it aside, then pulls her into his lap and hugs her. Steve sits down on the couch next to them, hand on her back.
“You can always ask, sweetie. And if you’re this interested and this natural, we can buy you your own guitar if you want. I didn’t think you were interested in playing.”
“I wanna be like you,” Amelia admitted against his shoulder.
Eddie was done for. He looked at Steve, half-panicked, trying not to cry in front of these people, but Steve wasn’t faring any better.
“Then we can go get you a guitar tomorrow. You can get your own picks, too. They might even have purple ones.”
“Can I have red? Like yours?”
“Of course, sweetie.”
It only took them two days after that to realize she could play by ear, just like Eddie.
And then it only took another day after that to realize she had taught herself to read music too.
They spent hours and hours every week playing together while Steve cooked dinner or checked her homework or just watched them.
When Eddie’s band decided to record another album and go on tour when Amelia was 12, Eddie insisted that she get to be on it.
She ended up helping write one of their songs, played on the track on the album, and with a lot of work, convinced Steve to let them homeschool her for the entire 8 months they’d be on tour so she could perform on stage with her dad.
“Can’t believe she’s not even genetically yours. Are you sure you didn’t have an affair?” Steve asked the night before they were leaving for Europe.
“When would I have had an affair? I came back to the tour bus or hotel with you every single night,” Eddie kissed him softly. “She’s amazing, huh?”
“She is. What happens when she wants to be a full blown rockstar like her dad too?”
“Then we make sure she’s protected and has good people around her like I have. She could be a rockstar easily. She’s got the talent and the presence,” Eddie smiled. “And she’s got me to make sure no one takes advantage of her. But she’s only 12. We’ve got time to worry about that later.”
“You’re bringing her onstage every single night all over the world for the next eight months, baby. I think later is now.”
Eddie sighed. “She’s gonna blow them all away. I’m proud of her. Let’s focus on that for now.”
And she did blow everyone away. The fans and the media had nothing but good things to say, and Steve didn’t have to go into overprotective mom mode at all until she was 15 and signing a record deal of her own.
But between Eddie and him, the entire industry knew better than to fuck with her or them.
They made rules, of course. School still came first, she still had required family events to be at, she still had regular friends at home. She wasn’t allowed at any parties, not even the events for award ceremonies.
But she didn’t really need those rules. She had no interest in parties or abandoning her friends or family, and she was a straight A student who still had hopes of getting into Brown for Journalism like her Aunt Nancy. She had a passion for music and wanted to share it, but not at the cost of the rest of her life.
And Eddie and Steve did everything they could to make sure she got to have everything. That’s what they’d promised her from day one.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#headcanon#so adoption is complicated#and I won’t pretend that there are plenty of aspects of the system that are so fucked beyond repair#and this is not the time or place to talk about them#so don’t do that in the comments#you’ll get blocked tbh because we’re here in this specific space to have fun#that is all#steddie dads#also this isn’t how the industry works#this isn’t how the media works#the world is cruel to young performers#but we’re pretending#this is fiction
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You're dead to me [2]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, daddy issues, idk how one lives with zero gravity, barely proofread
Word count: 2,3k
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What actually took six years didn't feel like that to you at all. One moment you closed your eyes as you were put into cryosleep and after what felt like one second passed, you got woken up from your deep slumber. The claustrophobic space you are in makes something inside of you itch. Good thing you were into cryosleep, you couldn't have survived sleeping in this tube every night for six years in a row. Once your tube was pulled out of the wall, you immediately feel yourself floating. So this is what space felt like.
"Drink and eat lots, since you will feel very weak!", a loud voice echoes through the room as one by one everyone left their cryosleep. You float through the room with a smile on your face as you hold onto handles, lockers, anything to keep your balance. An excited scream could be heard from behind you, it was your friend Raja. "You are not dead I see," she jokes as she floats towards you, her arms wide open to invite you in a hug, "this is honestly insane, I can't believe that we are actually doing this!" You wrap your arms around you as you share her excitement, "I know right? We worked so hard for this, I can't believe this is happening." You met Raja on your first day being at the resistance base. She shared her passion for nature with pride and you always admired her for this. A cough is heard behind your back and Raja looks over your shoulder to see who it was, "Seb!" she squeals as she carefully gets out of your hug, floating towards their other friend to engulf him in a hug. You watch as Raja and Seb share their excitement with each other. They really didn't age at all while being in cryosleep, such an interestingly concept it was. You float towards them, holding onto Seb's shoulder to keep your balance and not pass out, because damn they were right. You feel so tired and weak. If you weren't in space right now you probably would have fallen to the floor. Your limbs felt like cooked noodles, you really needed to eat. "The trio is back at it again to cause havoc!!" Seb ruffles your head, your hair tangling in between his fingers as he did so. The three of you were the inseparable trio. While you had a group of friends you hung out with, you three always just stuck together like glue. It may have been the fact you bonded over being reckless warriors, thriving on the thrill and action, or the fact all three of you were top students, but that doesn't matter. Raja and Seb are your partners in crime til death do you all part. The two are engaged in a deep conversation, but you didn't bother to listen or chime in. You wanted to explore, and see what you worked your entire teenagehood for. Grabbing onto the handle against the walls, you made your way towards the huge window, were also most of the crew was floating around. You had to see this for yourself, you had to believe it with your own eyes. What if you were still dreaming?
"Excuse me, Pardon me!", still not used to not having any gravity, you keep bumping into other warriors. A 'watch where you're going!' was screamed your way, but you paid no mind to it as you had more important things to do. Floating past the last person that kept you from seeing outside, your eyes immediately widen at the beauty that lay in front of you. A planet, looking exactly like earth, right in front of you. It was beautiful, the true meaning behind mother nature. You bring your hand towards your cheek to pinch yourself, was this real? Were you truly experiencing this? When you pinched yourself so hard, leaving a red mark on your skin, and you didn't wake up you knew this was real. You were knocked out of your senses pretty quickly, as everyone was told to dress up, eat and get together in the common area. Where that was? No idea, but what you knew is that you were excited as hell. You basically swam through the air towards the lockers, where your supposed gear would be. The sight was probably incredibly silly, you thought, you probably looked like a swimming frog. Yet you didn't care about the stares that were given you. The only thing on your mind was to see Pandora with your own eyes— not out of books, notes you had to read, or drawings. You left without telling Seb or Raja, but you would probably find them, considering you're going to the same destination and those two definitely weren't to miss.
You float past all the lockers with nameplates, looking for your name. You were told that they were in alphabetic order. Last name. You could never escape him, could you? You proceed to float, using the lockers to pull yourself up and speed up towards the lockers that start with 'S'. Upon floating in front of the name that haunted you every day, you sigh and slam the locker open. Clothes sealed in recycled plastic, a pair of shoes, and an oxygen mask. Fortunately, it wasn't those old aquarium-like masks. When you learned about those you thought they were ugly as hell: a head in an aquarium. Those were designed like gas masks. Was that the best way to explain them? They only covered the mouth and nose part to breathe properly, it didn't cover the entire face anymore. You flash a skeptical expression towards the clothes in your arms. They were dark colors, dark colors in a hot amazon-like forest? If it were up to you, you wouldn't have chosen a little more, bare, clothes. For the sweat to at least dry up and not soak in the clothes. "Weird choice of clothes, right?", Raja appeared next to you, out of the blue, making you flinch. You quickly managed to cover it up and compose yourself, "I'm gonna end up looking like a crab while fighting a villain, kind of embarrassing." she laughs at your reply and grabs a hold of your forearm, "come on let's go change. Seb already went to change!" And with that, your friend pulls you with her. Changing your clothes was kind of awkward. The room was a big space where all women changed next to one another. It gave PE class vibes. You felt sticky and disgusting as you changed out of the clothes you wore for six years. Wearing fresh, clean clothes is always better than nothing. The material feels nice against your skin, and very cooling. As you look in the mirror, fixing every detail to look as neat as possible. You roll your sleeves up just a tad bit and tried to loosen the corset-like clothing piece around your upper body. It doesn't look exactly like a corset, but it's one of those clothing pieces that have a corset built into it. The mask is hanging against your hip, ready to be used 24/7 once you stepped foot on Pandora. The pants were a little wide thankfully, enough space to move into. "What is it with the corset though? Who wears a corset while fighting?" "Maybe it's bulletbroof or something?"
After this whole ordeal in the dressing room with some people whining about the clothes being too hot, while others were second guessing if the outfit was nice to fight in, you finally made your way towards this common area. There everyone was awkwardly sitting, what one could call sitting in space. Everyone was given a granola bar to snack on and a sealed bag with a sweet drink in it. You leaned against Seb, as you were too tired to use your strength to hold onto anything. Eating the bar and sipping from the overly-sweetened drink, you listened to the peptalk your superiors were giving you all. It was something about protecting Pandora, RDA and the forest Na'vi, but you really were too tired to listen. It was most likely the talk they did every time before you went into cryosleep. If you missed anything you could just ask Raja or Seb about it.
What almost felt like a decade to you, actually took just a few hours before you finally landed on Pandora. During the landing all, maybe twenty of you in total, were seated as you braced for impact. It wasn't too bad, it was like a plane landing. Before the doors opened, the duffel bags you took with you were placed on your laps. For your instance, the bag with the wrapped katana you got from your lieutenant was handed to you. You put your mask against your face, pressing it down and securing it as you breathe in the oxygen from the earth. Red lights flash through the area you're in with the others as the secured door lowers to the Pandorean ground, revealing the beauty of mother nature. You rise from your seat as your seat belt was already unclasped. Without waiting any longer, you rushed to the outside world in a heartbeat. Watching your surroundings, it seems like you landed on the resistance base. Unlike the RDA base, which you saw during your learning process, this one was more integrated with mother nature rather than destroying it to make space. It was so organic, so natural. A team was already waiting for your arrival, all standing in a row as you lock gazes with a Na'vi. Unlike the things you were taught about Na'vi clothing, this one was wearing human clothes. Could this be what one would call an avatar? The same situation your dad was also in? You start thinking he was your dad, but it didn't look like him at all. You knew avatars were supposed to look like their 'owners'. Even though it was supposed to be your dad's brother's avatar, they were twins. One would ask 'you don't know what your dad's avatar body looks like?', but honestly as you said many times you tried to pull away from the hauntings Jake Sully got you. The insecurities, and issues you got from his betrayal, his departure. It truly hit you like a truck. Questions would pop up like:
Were you enough?
Was there something wrong with you?
Why didn't he come back to you?
You couldn't take talking about your dad's new life. Selfish one may call it, then you were selfish in their eyes. You didn't care. Wanting your dad, is that selfish? Missing your dad, is that selfish? Angry because your dad wanted a new life without you, is that selfish? You yearned for him, yet despised talking about him. That's why you don't know what he looks like, what he is up to. You just know his history: put into the avatar body from his brother to follow military orders. From only caring about getting a paycheck to protecting the natives. He was crowned with the name Toruk Makto as you were taught. Mated to Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'Ite, daughter of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. When you first heard about this, you felt sick to your stomach. Reality hitting you even harder at age thirteen. It was already bad enough to know your dad left you, but also getting to know that he settled down while you spent your time waiting for him? You remember running out of the classroom when a superior taught you this information. This was also how you got in contact with Raja and Seb. They comforted you while everyone else thought of you as weird, weak. They were the first people, besides the superiors that came in contact with you, that came to know about your dad being Jake Sully, about the struggles you got after he left. Yet, they didn't laugh at what you thought was exaggerating. They listened carefully to your words as the tears rolled down your cheeks.
'We were attached to the hip, what went wrong?'
'Did I make him unhappy?'
'Was I too much for him?'
'Was he looking for something more rather than being a single dad?'
You spilled your insecurities to them and they never uttered a word about it to someone else. You will be forever grateful for them. You were so lost in thoughts, getting slightly emotional at all these thoughts about your dad, until a hand rested on your shoulder, "and last but not least, you must take her with you. She's our best warrior, Norm. She will need to stay on the battlefield, closest to the war." So Norm was his name. A pretty goofy one if you had to be honest. The avatar named Norm stood at least 10 feet tall as he looked down at you, literally. You just reached around his crotch area, which is kinda embarrassing because imagining running into his front. Hopefully, he likes to travel in his human body more. "Then that's settled, Oel Ngati Kameie." His hand rested against his forehead, slowly bringing it down to his chest. You flashed him a kind smile in return, ready for whatever adventure you will come across, "Oel Ngati Kameie."
But only if you knew.
.
.
"They have arrived, they will help us."
"They're sky demons! All the same!"
"I used to be one as well, yet I had a change of heart. Please accept the help they will offer us, for our people, for our family, our fortress." his hands grip hers, intertwining their fingers as he spoke to her in private, away from the children. He opened his mouth again, pressing his forehead against hers, "please, Ma Neytiri."
A/N: first of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback. I honestly didn't expect it I'm gonna be fr😭 it gave me enough motivation to write part 2, so here it is, earlier than expected. I hope you enjoyed <3
also i hope no one noticed me accidentally posting the draft cause that was silly
Taglist (I couldn't find everyone):
@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @bunnyrose01 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @coterami @lwozy @erenjaegerwifee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @m3ll0n1xx @eternallyvenus @shyskybbb @imakms @keira7664 @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @wolfiealina @guska0 @yeosxxx @dakotali @destinylb @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @alohastitch0626
#jake sully#dad!jake sully x reader#dad!jake sully#dad!jake x daughter!reader#dad! jake sully#jake sully x human!reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#jake sully x human!daughter!reader#jake sully x reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam#neteyam x sister!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#sully family x reader#spider sully
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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Nine
Saiki Kusuo x Reader
Chapter Nine: Misinformation and Memories
Summary: Saiki and (Y/N) deal with terrible journalists and homework.
The following day, the newspaper had worse articles. Clearly, they intended to irritate and discredit the castaways until they got the interviews and information they wanted.
“Two Castaways ignored our Requests—Who are these Two? Could They be more than Friends? We Caught Them Hugging.”
“Seven Mysteries about the Shipwreck.”
“The Saws that Mysteriously Appeared.”
“The Definitive Proof.”
“Takahashi Spills the Truth.”
(Y/N) looked at Saiki. The first title was an issue—if their relationships status got out to the students, the amount of drama in their friend group could be astronomical. “What do we do, Kusuo?”
“This is ridiculous,” said Saiki. It was just the newspaper club running a giant gossip column, and it was silly. Unfortunately, people were already whispering and glancing at the pair. (Y/N) grimaced, and Saiki narrowed his eyes. (Y/N) disliked the looks they were getting, and that meant Saiki disliked them.
“Are you ready for that interview now?” said Jouten, smirking and standing behind Saiki and (Y/N). Her hands were on her hips, and she looked down on them triumphantly. “This is what happens when you don’t cooperate, Kusuo Saiki, (Y/N) (L/N).”
You’ve gone too far. Involving his relationship with (Y/N) in the gossip was too much. It was rude, disrespectful, and could hurt (Y/N)’s friendships (he insisted he didn’t have friends, so what did he care?)
“You shouldn’t underestimate us,” continued Jouten. “Now tell us everything!”
Saiki projected his thoughts directly into (Y/N)’s mind. “We need to get them off our backs. If they’re going to public fake news, let’s tell them everything.”
(Y/N) shrugged. It wasn’t like anything really interesting happened on the island other than Mera going feral for a day. They could talk about that.
l
“That’s a weak story,” said Jouten, frowning after (Y/N) and Saiki finished their story.
“It’s the truth,” said (Y/N), shrugging.
Jouten waved a hand carelessly. “I can’t make an article from that. It would be over in three lines. Kaidou’s story was better.”
“Because he was lying,” said Saiki.
“Anything is fine if it’s interesting,” said Jouten.
“I thought reporters were supposed to tell the truth,” said (Y/N), confused.
“Whatever,” said Jouten. “Just hand them over, then.”
“Hand what over?” said Saiki.
“Pictures of Kokomi Teruhashi changing,” said Jouten. “You were with her for four days, after all.”
“Why would we take photos of someone changing?”
“No thanks.”
(Y/N) and Saiki’s respective asexuality reared its head.
Jouten stared at them. “Are you stupid?! You didn’t take any?! No way, you must have one.”
“I think it would be rude to take a photo of someone like that,” said (Y/N).
“Nobody even had a camera,” said Saiki. They covered the ethical and logical arguments against the idea in a single moment.
“How could you miss that?” exclaimed Jouten indignantly. “You’re telling me you don’t even have a photo of her pooping?”
“Ew?” said (Y/N).
“Are you stupid?” retorted Saiki.
“Are you kidding me right now? You didn’t take any?!” said Jouten.
“Why would we?” said Saiki.
“Weird…” said (Y/N), eyeing Jouten.
“You’re failures as journalists!” said Jouten.
“What about you?”
“I’m not a journalist?”
“I would have taken the shot,” said the cameraman.
“Are you stupid, too?”
“I’m telling Kokomi to avoid you,” said (Y/N) cheerfully.
Jouten groaned and sat down in her chair again. “Whatever. Just go.”
I hope they get shut down.
l
I really hope they get shut down. Saiki looked at the articles up, once more full of gossip and misinformation.
“Breaking News! Kokomi Teruhashi’s Island Nudes!”
“Poop Photos Leaked. Naughty Photos, Too.”
“Photos will be Exclusive Next Week.”
“Other People in Photos include (Y/N) (L/N)—”
Saiki didn’t bother reading the rest. He was already fuming. Beside him, (Y/N) made sure their uniform top was tightly buttoned. They were extremely uncomfortable with the idea of such photos of themself—especially since there was no way they existed.
“Kusuo?” said (Y/N), looking at him. “Can you…stop this?”
Saiki looked into (Y/N)’s eyes, so nervous and hesitant, so different from their usual cheer. Now you’ve done it. Jouten would face his wrath.
“Saiki! Is it true? There are photos of Teruhashi?” Several boys turned towards him.
“How could you?”
“Give them to me so I can get rid of them!”
“No, give them to me!”
“I’ll take the pictures of the others!”
“I’ll pay!”
“Kusuo?” said (Y/N), back away. Saiki moved slightly in front and glowered at the boys, who flinched back.
Paying for photos of my—! Saiki had not been this angry for a long, long time.
“Stop this!” Everyone turned in surprise. Teruhashi stood in the hall, hands on her hips. “Saiki wouldn’t do that. No one on that island would. The newspaper article is a lie.”
“But they said there were photos,” said a boy in confusion.
“There can’t be,” said Teruhashi. “Because I didn’t.”
“What? You didn’t—?” Poop?
“I didn’t.”
“It was four days. You would have to—”
“I didn’t.” Teruhashi’s smile didn’t break, and she shone brighter than ever.
“Even you have to—”
“I didn’t.” Her brightness was blinding.
“She didn’t!” cried the crowd. “She didn’t!” As unbelievable as her claim was, they refused to believe anything the newspaper said about her—she was infallible.
“At least that means they won’t believe anything else they read about us,” said (Y/N), laughing slightly at how easily everyone listened to Teruhashi.
“Good,” said Saiki. Still, he would deal with the newspaper club directly. They were spreading rumors about (Y/N) in addition to the girls on the island. Saiki wouldn’t stand for that.
Tomorrow, the newspaper club would find a rather unexpected article on their board—an expose.
l
“Is this for real?”
“I can’t believe her!”
“The newspaper club is the worst!”
“They photographed themselves pooping in their room?”
Jouten and her cameraman stared in shock at the photographic evidence of their plans to lie about Teruhashi, (Y/N), and everyone else who was shipwrecked.
“They’re perverts.”
The pair of “reporters” deflated and collapsed to the ground. Saiki smiled slightly in satisfaction.
“Maybe that will teach them a lesson on honesty,” said (Y/N) optimistically.
“Or stop them from being reporters,” said Saiki.
(Y/N) smiled and took Saiki’s hand. “Thank you, Kusuo.”
Saiki glanced down at them and squeezed their hand. “Of course.” Always for you.
l
“Okay, I’ve finished math,” said (Y/N). “And so have you. Should we take a break?”
Saiki nodded and closed his notebook. They had been working all morning to complete their homework before their break, so they deserved a small break (and a snack to go along with it).
A knock at the door. (Y/N) looked out the window and smiled.
“It’s Kuboyasu, Kaidou, and Nendou,” said (Y/N).
“Pretend we’re not here,” said Saiki.
“Kusuo, they’re your friends,” scolded (Y/N), though they were laughing.
“Bothers.”
“Sure,” said (Y/N), opening Saiki’s front door. “Hi, guys.”
“Oh, (L/N),” said Kuboyasu in surprise. “Hello. What are you doing here?”
“Homework,” said (Y/N).
“Will you help us with ours?” said Kaidou.
Saiki reached around (Y/N) to close the door.
“Wait, hear us out!” said Nendou.
“We brought these to share,” said Kaidou, holding out coffee jelly.
(Y/N) smothered a laugh as their boyfriend’s eyes zeroed in on the sweets like a hawk.
“Get in,” said Saiki.
“Thank you!” chorused Kaidou, Kuboyasu, and Nendou.
And so, (Y/N) and Saiki, happily finished with their work, sat back and ate the free coffee jelly while the other three copied their work.
“I’m copying everything,” said Nendou, smiling brightly.
“Don’t make it too obvious!” said Kuboyasu. “Copy around eighty percent of it at most.”
“You should keep it under ten percent,” said Saiki.
“Just compare your answers to see if it’s right or not,” said (Y/N) helpfully.
“It’s too hard to do that with the picture diary,” complained Kaidou. “That took so long.”
Saiki froze. “Picture diary?” He opened his schoolbag and dug around until he pulled out a diary. He flipped through it. Empty. All empty.
“It’s thirty-one days! You can’t finish that in a day!” said Kuboyasu.
“I guess this is more important than our homework,” said Kaidou.
“We don’t have a choice,” said Nendou.
“Yes, go home.” Saiki could just use his powers.
“We’ll help!” said everyone, and (Y/N) started laughing in the background.
“No, go home!”
“But we want to help!”
“Guys,” said (Y/N), still laughing. “You weren’t around for his summer. Come on, finish your work and head home. Kusuo will figure things out.”
“But—"
“I have plenty of photos from things we did all together, so I’ll give them to him,” said (Y/N), smiling.
“Oh, good idea!” said Nendou. He pulled out his phone and began to send pictures to (Y/N). “Here, more!”
“I have some, too!” said Kuboyasu.
“Me, too!” said Kaidou.
(Y/N)’s phone dinged like it was the end of the world as all the photographs came in. They smiled. “Thanks, everyone! Now, we should let Kusuo focus on putting everything together.”
“Alright!” Now that they had helped, the boys were more willing to be pushed out of the room and the house, happy that their homework was handled and their friend’s would be, too.
“How do you do that?” (Y/N) easily controlled the annoyances around Saiki.
“They wanted to help, so I let them,” said (Y/N), a smile on their face. “Come on, let’s see what photos we can use.” They sat down on the couch, and Saiki sat down next to them.
“Look at what Nendou sent—pictures of some of the ramen places we all went,” said (Y/N). “That was fun.”
“When they followed health codes,” said Saiki.
(Y/N) laughed. “Right.”
Saiki held out his hand to the phone, then to the pages of his diary, and the correct dates filled in with photographs of ramen restaurants.
“Kaidou sent us photos from when he dragged us to comicon the day-of,” said (Y/N). They chuckled. “I remember that I really wanted to cosplay but had no time, so you helped me put together an outfit.” Indeed, in the photo of Kaidou—dressed as Sasuke, the only “right” character for his tough and tortured soul—(Y/N) and Saiki stood with him. Saiki had no costume, but (Y/N)—dressed as Luffy—was putting a straw hat on his head playfully.
“That wasn’t so bad,” said Saiki. He was a bit of a nerd when he could avoid spoilers, so buying themed snacks and a poster or two was fun.
“And Kuboyasu sent pictures of you and him on your bikes,” said (Y/N). They laughed sheepishly. “I think that was the day I tried to be your backpack and we almost crashed.”
“We’re not trying that again,” said Saiki.
“Not for a long time,” agreed (Y/N).
Saiki transferred the photos over again and glanced over at (Y/N) and their phone. “What photos did you take?”
“I, uh, took some from our dates,” said (Y/N). Quickly, they waved their hadns in front of their face. “I didn’t post any anywhere. Our privacy is secure.”
“…Would you show me?”
(Y/N) brightened, and Saiki could melt from the warmth of their grin.
“Sure!” said (Y/N), scotting closer to Saiki. They held up their phone between them and opened their photos. “See, that one was when we went to Shibuya to take that baking class.” Saiki was covered in flour, and (Y/N) was pointing at him as they laughed behind the camera.
“The cupcakes tasted good after,” said Saiki.
“They did!” agreed (Y/N). They flipped to the next photo. “This is when we picked out outfits for each other.” They smiled at him and leaned on his shoulder slightly. “We look so cute.”
Saiki smiled slightly. “You did.”
“And this is one of my favorite photos,” laughed (Y/N), showing one of Saiki’s blissed-out face eating coffee jelly. “I think it captures you.” Another photo. “And this one is the one I sent to you when Kokomi, Chiyo, and I went to a festival and did face-painting.” They had tiny strawberries painted like freckles across their cheeks. “And you let me try to paint you after.” Saiki’s face was in the next photo—a coffee jelly painted on his cheek. The next picture was a selfie—(Y/N) kissing Saiki’s cheek, the one without the face paint. “I really like this one.”
Saiki’s hand subconsciously lifted and went around (Y/N)’s shoulders. With their head leaning on his shoulder, they were really looking like a couple, cuddling and everything.
Saiki looked down at them and smiled to himself as (Y/N) continued to ramble about all the memories they’d made together. He really didn’t deserve them. But he was glad to have them.
Saiki was head-over-heels for (Y/N).
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#a not so disastrous romance#x reader#gn reader#nb reader#x gn reader#x nb reader#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki#saiki kusou no psi nan#kusuo saiki#saiki k#saiki no psi nan#saiki x reader#saiki#saiki kusuo#kusuo saiki x reader#saiki kusuo x reader#kusuo x reader#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#the disastrous life of saiki k
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SOMETHING ABOUT YOU
SUMMARY: simon riley x reader // simon goes out to the bar for a break then comes back with a couple of his friends, the 141. you were surprised when you heard multiple pairs of footsteps trailing to the backyard, but more than happy to see your husband’s family again.
WARNINGS: not proofread, a little angst but nothing too heavy, reader is called ‘mrs.’ and ‘mom’ a couple of times (fem reader)
AUTHORS NOTE: i’m working on another logan writing piece at the moment, i’ve been really busy so i haven’t written a lot in the past few weeks. this is 1.1k words, and i randomly came up with the oneshot idea idk i wanted to write it!!
simon had gone out to the bar to take a break, he needed to relax after a long mission, although he visited you before deciding to leave again. however, you understand his needs. it’s difficult being away from him for weeks, and even more difficult not to know what happens on his missions.
he is never allowed to talk about them because of the confidentiality. it can be frustrating at times, and sometimes all he is allowed to say is if he and his friends were hurt. occasionally, he will slip in little details from the mission, although it was rare for him to mention it.
weirdly enough, this hasn’t caused problems in your relationship. you understand the long time your husband has to be away because of his job, that is part of the marriage. the wait makes it worth it when simon comes home with flowers and little trinkets from the country he visits.
the smile on your children’s faces warms both of your hearts, as well as the giggling you hear as they run up to their beloved father. the way their cheeks flush and their eyes squint, showing their dad tricks they learned in gymnastics, or how one of them is close to losing a tooth always forces a smile onto simon’s face, no matter how hard he tries to resist.
you’re taken from your deep thought when you see one of your children swimming over to the edge of the pool. you place your book down on your lap as mila, your four-year-old daughter grasps the edge.
“mommy, when is daddy coming home?” she asks, the dark brown eyes she gained from simon peering up at you.
you quickly check your phone to track his location, he is only a few streets away from your house. your face visibly brightens, and you sigh in content.
you tilt your head at your daughter and reply, “he’s a few streets down, sweetie,” you think for a second, “he should be here in no time.”
when you give your daughter a grin, she sheepishly smiles back at you before pushing her legs onto the wall and floating with her small floaties on her arms. she swims over to her sister, and they begin to talk before they both swim to the opposite side of the swimming pool and take a couple of crackers off a plate.
you then feel a small tug on your heart, and you turn around, smiling at the feeling. simon stands in front of the door leading to the backyard, all without his mask and gear, instead in normal civilian clothes. the rest of the 141 stands beside him, the people he considers family, besides you and the kids, of course.
placing one foot on the ground after the other, you stand up from the lounge chair and place your book on the table next to it. he wears a tight, white t-shirt and jeans he wears so often at home.
as you walk up to him, your eyes are on him and him only. you give him a quick peck on his chapped lips, placing your hands on his chest. his hand drops to the hem of your white skirt as he looks at your cute, white top you normally wear to the beach.
hand placed on his bicep, you state, “i see you brought your friends, si,” and look into your loved ones eyes before greeting, “well, hey! did you guys have fun at the bar?”
“yeah, it was nice. mostly played card games, actually,” kyle replies, gaining mutters of agreement from the two men next to him.
a moment of silence fills the space as johnny comments, “y’look nice, mrs. riley.”
you thank him, but he earns a glare from your husband. the captain asks a question, “how’ve the kids been?” and you smile, knowing he’s cared about them ever since simon said his wife was expecting.
“oh, they’ve been great! mary’s getting really good at chess, she spends so much of her free time just playing and seeing how she could win every game. mila just joined a soccer team, so you know, there’s a game coming up next week!” you beam, enjoying talking about your kids.
as you continue talking to john and kyle, simon quickly slaps the back of the scot’s head, emitting a groan from him. he quickly pulls him back by his shirt, trying to make it seem like the sergeant was startled by something other than simon.
you softly yet unconsciously rub simon’s bicep and step closer to his body, yearning for his body heat to help yours. he then turns his head and sees mila and mary wrapped in long towels, almost dragging on the concrete ground. he bends down and kisses both of their foreheads, once again, earning giggles from them.
they greet simon’s teammates with respect and manners, and you smile at their maturity. as they ask questions to the three men, you pull simon down by his shirt and place your lips against his. he places his hand on the small of your back, comfortingly rubbing up and down.
your heart flutters at the caring act, and the two of you pull away once you remember something. you look up at his warm eyes and state, “there’s food in the oven, your friends can stay for dinner if they want,” and drag your freshly manicured nails down his chest before walking into the house.
his eyes follow your body, and the corners of his lips turn into a grin when his kids look up at him. he grins before picking both of them up and throwing their bodies over his shoulders, feeling their bellies sucking in and out, their giggles fill his ears. he nods for his teammates to walk into the house.
“ah, wait, take your little floaties off,” he places the two down on the ground and pulls their floaties off their arms.
they wait patiently in front of him in case they forget something else they are obligated to do, but simon ushers them into the household.
sometimes he feels like he’s missed so much of their life, and they don’t always understand why he’s gone so often. he’s thought of retiring, he has enough money to live with you and the children for the rest of his life. his life wouldn’t be on the line anymore, and anytime he steps onto the field, he fights for you and his children so he can come back to you another day.
#yukioos#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost#ghost fluff#cod mwii#cod x reader#cod modern warfare#cod#cod mw2#call of duty x reader#call of duty
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When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Six
okie so I might have lied about getting this done today. But here it is! I honestly loved writing this chapter, cause it's fun to write the dynamic between Wooyoung and y/n
Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader Summary: Y/n meets the omegas of Skz, and then has dance practice with Yunho and San! wc: 1.4k AU: a/b/o Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: yelling, lots of yelling, Woo being dramatic, lots of cursing because yes, derogatory language (whore), angst, and I think that's it?? lemme know if I need to add any other warnings! masterlist
“Where are we going, Wooyoung-ssi?” Y/n asked the idol as she was dragged out of the company.
“I already told you! We’re going to meet up with Han and Felix!” Wooyoung told her, like it was common sense.
The slightly taller man, by like maybe an inch, pulled her behind him as they walked, or were dragged in y/n’s case, down the road to the next block, where a quiet cafe sat. The two omegas entered, finding it almost void of people, except for two people sitting in the back. Wooyoung lit up once he saw the two, almost sprinting towards the two of them, y/n along for the ride once again.
“You’re here!” He shouted, gaining their attention.
“Wooyoung-hyung!” One of the two called out to him, pulling his mask off to reveal a smile on his face.
The older omega pulled y/n down with him into the empty chairs, before introducing her to the idols in front of her. “Han, Felix, this is y/n. She’s one of the auditionees for the ninth member of Ateez. I may have stolen her from practice.”
Felix ignored Wooyoung’s words for the most part. “ Hi y/n, I’m Felix. Though I have a feeling you already knew that. It’s really nice to meet you regardless.” He smiled at y/n, and she couldn’t help but smile in return, it was contagious.
“Yah! Felix, don't go stealing my omega! She’s mine. Not yours.” Wooyoung intervened as he watched the two of them. He was not letting the Stray Kids steal her from him, even if he loved the two younger omegas. Y/n was his, and if he had his way, she’d be their ninth member. He didn’t want anyone else, despite not having seen any of her skills. But Hongjoong looked pleased with her, so that means something good. And unless she had no rhythm and two left feet, they could teach her to dance.
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you y/n.” Han said, a bit shyer than either Wooyoung or Felix. Which was fine with the sole female omega in the group of four, as she didn’t mind another quieter person. She had enough loud people with just the man next to her.
“How are you both?” She asked them, knowing they have a comeback coming up, she’s a Stay too, there was no way not to be a StayTiny with the friendship between the two groups.
“I’m good! Busy, but good.” Felix replied, smiling at her still. Han nodded along, focused on his phone. He seemed to be reading something on his phone. She didn’t mind, it was probably Stray Kids related, which is totally fair, she may not understand it like Wooyoung probably did, but she could understand being busy because of an upcoming event.
“You guys have a comeback coming up, right? How’s the preparation for that going?” She asked them, “And no pressure if you can’t say anything, I get it.”
“Ah yeah, we’re not really supposed to say much about it. Sorry.” Felix said, apologizing.
“No apologies needed, I figured as much, but still wanted to ask. I know comebacks are secretive and such. Well outside of what is shared with fans in the lead up to release day.” She replied, nodding her head.
Suddenly, fingers were squeezing her cheek. “You’re so cute, I just wanna eat you.” Wooyoung said from right next to her.
“Please don’t eat me, I don’t think we need a news article about you secretly being some sort of cannibal.”
“I- yah! I am not a cannibal!” Wooyoung cried.
“Then why do you want to eat me? Besides, it could be worse, you could be a kidnapping cannibal. Oh wait, you are.” Y/n jokes, suddenly having a burst of confidence.
That sparked laughter from Felix and Han, causing y/n to laugh as well, as Wooyoung looked at all of them and pouted.
“I thought we were friends.” The eldest man whined, crossing his arms as the three omegas continued giggling.
“You’re so fucking mean. This isn’t fair. How dare you corrupt my baby!” He continued to whine.
“They met me thirty minutes ago, how did they corrupt me? And when did I become your baby?” Y/n questioned, looking at the omega next to her in confusion.
“They just did! And when I met you, duh.” Wooyoung said, like it was common knowledge.
“Wooyoung, you’re an idiot.” Felix said, in a very deadpan way.
“Felix, we gotta go. Chan needs us back at the company.” Han interrupted, looking back and forth between Felix and his phone.
There were many awws, but Felix and Han rose up out of their seats.
“Next time, we’ll make sure to have free time so we can chat? And we’ll get your number off of Wooyoung!” Felix promised y/n as they left the cafe.
“Awwww, I thought we’d get longer with the two of them.” Wooyoung pouted once again.
“Well, they are prepping for a comeback next month, I don’t expect them to not be busy.” She said, knowing that these times would be busy, and was surprised they managed to get any free time at all, being weeks away from a comeback.
“I don’t wanna go back yet.” Wooyoung just wouldn’t stop whining, though he was interrupted by his phone ringing.
“What Hongjoong-hyung?” The omega said.
“I don’t wanna come back. And why does she have to practice?”
“Fine. But you owe me a coffee.” Wooyoung said as he hung up the phone. “I’m supposed to bring you back now. They’re all finished for the day, but you still have to practice, so Sannie and Yunho are staying late to watch you. I’m not allowed to stay because I’ll just kidnap you again apparently.” He told her.
He got up out of the chair he was in, sulking as the female omega got up as well, and continued to sulk as they left the cafe, heading back to KQ. He grumbled about how unfair it was that he wasn’t allowed to stay and watch her dance, that he wasn’t allowed to stay at the company while she was practicing.
This grumbling continued all the way to the door of the practice room. She rolled her eyes at Wooyoung’s grumbling, and pushed open the door herself, brushing past the elder omega. She bowed once she was in the room, apologizing for her lateness, “I’m sorry I didn’t show up on time.”
“Don’t worry about it, once Hongjoong-hyung told us it was Wooyoung, we knew we wouldn’t get you back on time.” San waved off her apology, “You’re here now, that’s what matters.”
“What Sannie-ah said.” Yunho agreed, before continuing, “Now, are you ready to practice? Other than warming up?” He asked her, to which she nodded.
“Okay, then let’s warm up.” The tall alpha smiled at her, as they both started warming up with her, helping her through the stretches they did in order to prepare for their rigorous choreography.
Yunho then led her through the entirety of Guerilla, before moving onto Halazia, having her fill in Yeosang’s parts, as he thought she fit them best, besides Hongjoong’s as well. Once he deemed her Halazia run throughs perfect, he let her take a break, and y/n collapsed onto the hardwood floor.
“How the fuck do you do all of these songs back to back at concerts holy fucking hell.” She said through many breaths and attempts, as she was still trying to catch her breath.
“Lots of training and stamina. You have to get some more.” San said as he sat on the ground next to her head.
“San’s correct. That’s the thing you have to work on, it seems. Plus some more practice on the footwork for dance breaks. You fall behind in them, compared to San when you two danced together.” Yunho told her, letting her know what she needed to work on. She took all of the comments in, knowing she wasn’t perfect, and wanting to work to get better. Plus, Yunho was kind as he told her what needed work versus what was almost perfect.
Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching the three of them sit and chat after this, and security really should have done a better job at ensuring the rules were followed, as they snapped photos of the three’s closeness.
“The fucking whore, fucking omega thinking she’s better than everyone else because of her subgender. Let’s see how the public feels about how close you are to them, when you haven't even been picked yet.” They whispered to themselves, before walking away with a ticking time bomb in their hand.
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if there's one thing that can be said about peter maximoff, it's that he's always got his ear to the ground when it comes to gossiping. it's like, his thing by now. if anyone wanted to hide their secrets from him they'd be fresh out of luck because despite how much he darts around and lets himself trail off sentences in the middle of them to zip off and do something else because he got tired of slowing himself down in the middle of it, he is surprisingly good at being quiet when he needs to and being at the right place at the right time. he has a very good record when it comes to this stuff, so he knows it's not bullshit when he's figured out that his dad—which, like, wow, his dad?—is in the dating scene. he knows it. what's more of a surprise is that he's gotten all strung up with charles xavier, of all people.
which, like, peter doesn't hate the guy. he doesn't! he was just under the impression that ten years ago—wow, ten years really fly when you really think about it, that day feels like forever ago and yesterday at the same time—that charles and erik hated each other. so he guesses he missed the memo where they kissed and made up after punches were thrown in the pentagon's elevator by a drenched, half-sober man who looked like he would laser erik to death with his eyes the way scott tries to do to peter about four times a week without even taking off his glasses in case he'd accidentally make it stick. though he couldn't, because, like. peter is very fast. duh.
so. the evidence behind his claims goes as follows (of course he collected evidence, peter says to ororo, affronted, when she asks if he even had proof. what was he, an ameteur?):
1. erik keeps taking lunch breaks.
it's not like he didn't before but he was definitely less likely to. when they were rebuilding the x-mansion after it blew up and he was their heaviest lifter, it would be rare to peel him away from all the construction. erik was actually weirdly good at building, which peter didn't really expect for some reason because he was always under the impression all the guy did was like. terrorize people. or kill them. or twist spoons into pretzels just because he could. but no, nowadays he's been taking more lunch breaks than ever and it's a very pointed difference, even though they've already finished construction a few months ago and erik didn't really have a reason to stay. unless the reason to stay was so he could be with charles! (scott stares at him with that unimpressed, laser-eyes look again so peter flips him off and continues past the sputtering).
2. he's also like, weirdly nice now?
which isn't to say that peter didn't think terrorists couldn't be nice. which sounds bad but erik might be the one exception. anyway, when peter saved him about a decade ago he remembered the guy being kind of an asshole when he met up with charles for the first time and yes he knows that it puts a damper on his dating theory, jean, but he's not done yet so wait a second. anyway, he was less of an asshole when he came back to help fix the mansion after trying to kill the whole world so peter guessed he kind of swings on a pendulum between good and evil and whatever they get on that day is like the worlds most important and demented coin flip. that's besides the point. so when he was back here to help fix things up he stayed out of everyone's way and he wouldn't do much to bother anyone because in peter's opinion erik didn't want to scare the little kids who knew of his reputation even if they didn't know his face. but, like, now he's been here a while it's like a complete 180. peter caught him teaching a seven year old how to tie his shoes the other day. a thirteen year old shortstack was rocking back and forth on her heels while erik got her a book from one of the higher shelves of the mansions newly refurbished library (who knew that once you saved the world there would be at least one or two places willing to donate books on top of charles' infinite wealth?). it was like stepping into the twilight zone. but it was real. like, peter saw the hint of a real smile on erik's face one time when he saw the man looking over the grassy field of the school. it freaked him out a bit.
3. charles knows how erik takes his coffee
this is admittedly one of his weaker arguments from the lead-in, peter concedes when he gets blank stares from storm, jean, scott, and kurt. like, even kurt! he didn't think that was a look he could pull from that kid. anyway, peter says that it's pretty damn obvious that erik has a whole thing when it comes to charles being in his head. he's heard from someone who heard from a friend who eavesdropped on a teacher who overheard charles and raven after a faculty meeting that the helmet erik wore all the damn time when he was evil was to keep charles from getting into his head. which explains a lot. anyway erik has a complex about charles getting in his head. but he doesn't wear the helmet now and peter heard charles one morning when he was getting ready to start the day off by eating at least two and a half boxes of poptarts. he heard the man say something like coffee? and he heard erik reply with a hum and charles went how dyou want it and erik said don't you know already? and peter had peered in then and seen erik gesture to his head. and he wasn't defensive about it at all and charles had this really weird look on his face that peter spend a few seconds examining in hyperspeed before getting away from the whole thing because the vibes were so weird. but yeah. erik let charles into his head just for some coffee after spending like two decades trying to keep charles out of his head. which has to mean something (and peter knows he's hooked them now because even scott is leaning in like he's interested and that kid would pretend he had a ticklish throat and needed a water bottle more than anyone else in the immediate vicinity if peter was on fire in front of him).
4. all the chess boards
like, they're all over the place. it's excessive. there's a different game set up in the library, on a table in the garden, on charles' desk in his office, on erik's desk in his office and his bedroom. and no one touches them because no one likes fucking chess except for cute little ten year old jenny because her grandfather taught her before she accidentally turned his house into clouds and seventeen year old thomas who's a prick because he thinks he's more distinguished than anyone ever because he came all the way over from europe or whatever the fuck and peter can't see either of them sitting down to play one game, let alone multiple. and he knows chess is charles and erik's thing because he saw the board in erik's room one time—(you were in his room? ororo asks with a very deep look and peter nods and goes yeah we've been bonding lately but it's kind of one sided because it's more like me showing up and him tolerating me until i leave but like it's progress!)—and peter asked before erik could get a chance to politely kick him out and erik actually paused and told him that chess was a shared hobby of theirs from a few years back and get this, peter says conspiratorially, leaning forward as the rest follow suit. he smiled. like a full on real smile with teeth. and peter was so taken aback he was like that's sweet man and then left before he could be kicked out. and now he knows that the only people who play chess in this mansion are dickhead european thomas and sweet little jenny and charles and erik, all the games all over the place have to be charles and erik's which means they spend a lot more time together than he thought before. and they plan to spend it together because a lot of these games are half finished, like they leave and come back every few days depending on how much free time either of them have. (and now everyone looks thoroughly hooked because the evidence peter brings is good because peter is a hell of a gossip, dammit. he won't have people questioning his skills when it comes to this. he was made to be at old little women's tea parties where they talk about their evil husbands doing war crimes. that's what he guesses goes on there, anyway, considering his first gossip session with his mom went that way)
5. charles is happier now
and jean frowns at this one right off the bat but no one really says anything because the way peter said it was soft and kind of less jokey than the rest of his tirade. because it was something he wasn't really expecting? because charles wasn't sad per se, he was always happy in front of the kids and he didn't try to drag them down with his own moods and ever since the guy got sober he's looked a hell of a lot more put together than when he showed up on peter's doorstep, tired and hungover and just plain heartbroken. but even in that small time frame between defeating apocalypse and the mansion being rebuilt, he was just... sort of happy. happy he lived, maybe. happy the world made it and his mansion was being rebuilt so he could home all these poor kids without anywhere to turn to that understood them. but wow, the stark difference between a charles that was kind of okay and a charles that was happy was like night and day. he was just so much brighter now that it took peter aback sometimes. he hummed under his breath whenever peter walked by him in the halls at a human speed and those old withered plants in his office started to stand taller, as if someone finally started watering them. and hank stopped staring at charles the way he did when peter met them a decade ago—waiting for something to give. so, yeah, charles is definitely happier now when no one even knew he was unhappy at all. and it all started when erik started taking lunch breaks.
and jean and scott and ororo and kurt are looking at him less like he's pulling their legs and more like he's made a point that makes them a little sad which wasn't the goal but he gets it. charles is like, jean's dad in a way, and the rest really look up to him despite only being here just shy of a year, so to hear this guy that they always saw as this strong bastion of optimism and goodwill was just sort of sad all the time right under their noses was probably depressing the hell out of the four of them. but it was the truth. and peter knows it was because he can practically see them recalling how the professor was before he got there and before he made up with erik.
so yeah. peter is right. erik and charles are probably dating and now four more people know that charles is happier than he was before and erik is too. and privately, peter thinks maybe if erik is happy to find family in charles, he'd be happy to find family in peter, too. but that's something for another day. he's just suddenly aware of the fact that he's so glad these guys who were so bent out of shape and angry and irritated and heartbroken and assholeish ten years ago are looking at each other like the sun took up custody of both their smiles or whatever.
anyway i'll see you guys later, peter tells them, and races off before they can say anything. he's already halfway across the school and in his room playing pac-man before any of them can blink.
#x men#x men movies#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#professor x#magneto#charles x erik#x men days of future past#peter maximoff#x men fanfiction#x men imagines#x men headcanons#cherik fic#milez writing#quicksilver#jean grey#scott summers#ororo munroe#kurt wagner#x men apocalypse#dadneto
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Talks & Tantrums
Relationship(s): Garrick Tavis/fem!Riorson!reader, Xaden Riorson & sister!reader, Bodhi Durran & reader
Summary: Time to tell Xaden that you're dating his best friend.
Warnings: Just some swearing and bickering
(Sequel to Kisses & Confessions, but can be read on its own)
Garrick gets up extra early to meet you in your room before breakfast and kiss you good morning. Addicted to the taste of his mouth as you are, one kiss turns to two turns to ten, until you force yourselves to pull away. It's time to get going. As much as you don't want to, you still need to have a talk with your brother, and the sooner you get it over with, the better.
"Maybe we should meet Xaden in the gym to tell him, in case he wants to beat the shit out of me for this," your boyfriend jokes as you leave your room.
Being able to think of him as that — your boyfriend, all yours! — still makes you giddy. A few days ago, you would have never believed you'd ever get to call Garrick yours outside of your wildest dreams. And yet now he is, and you will not let the looming threat of still having to tell your brother about it ruin your good mood.
"Nah. He might not be happy about it, but it's not going to be that bad."
Garrick sighs. "Let's hope so."
"It'll be fine. You know he's incapable of staying mad at me for more than five minutes."
"I think that time you put chili in his birthday cake he actually managed ten minutes. Who knows, maybe this will lead to a new record."
"The chili thing doesn't count," you say. "Xay knew I only did that because Bodhi dared me to, he was more mad at him than me. And even if he really is seriously mad at us, we'll just bribe him with chocolate cake. But he won't be, trust me."
Reaching the stairs leading away from the dorms, you find Xaden already waiting in the usual spot. The four of you — counting Bodhi, who isn't here yet — have made a habit of walking to breakfast together whenever possible. Technically you shouldn't, because of the whole more than three marked ones assembling is illegal-thing, but so far you haven't gotten in trouble. And really — being in the hallway at the same time on the way to breakfast can hardly be called assembling. It could be complete coincidence, not to mention that there's usually more than enough other people around. It's not like they can forbid marked ones from being in a room together. You're just not allowed to be alone in a room together.
Xaden doesn't seem surprised that Garrick picked you up from your room, but he does stare at your entwined hands, his expression darkening.
"Garrick and me are dating now," you say before he can start questioning you.
Xaden's frown deepens, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Excuse you?"
You roll your eyes, and warn, "Don't throw a tantrum now, Xaden."
"If you want to avoid starting a fight, maybe you should try to be a little more diplomatic," your dragon points out.
She's right, you don't want to fight with Xaden, but that doesn't mean you'll be all nice and docile. You want to make sure he's aware you're serious about this right from the start so he doesn't get the idea he could talk you out of dating Garrick.
"Hush. I know what I'm doing."
Srian sends the mental equivalent of a shrug, apparently deciding that this isn't her problem. All the better. You know how to deal with your brother just fine; you don't need smartass advice from a dragon who's never even interacted with any human other than yourself.
Meanwhile, Xaden clearly deems a tantrum necessary. "Are you fucking kidding me? You can't just date my best friend!" he complains, glaring daggers at you.
Why it's you he's pissed at and not Garrick is beyond you — you'd been almost certain he would put the blame on his best friend —, but you're glad for it. You hate the idea of them fighting because of you.
"Oh, but I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want. And I definitely don't need your permission to get a boyfriend."
"I'm not saying you need my permission. But—"
"But what? Sorry, Xay, but you don't get a say in this."
Xaden clenches his jaw so hard you see the muscles straining as he takes in the way Garrick has his arm protectively wrapped around your waist, holding you close, the way you're leaning into him, hands fidgeting with his. Something in your posture or expression seems to convince him that no, you're not just doing this to irritate him. "Gods, you're actually fucking serious about this, aren't you?"
"Yes," you and Garrick say in unison.
"Ugh. Fine."
Xaden's tone and expression make it clear he's not very happy about it, but, just as you predicted, he accepts that there's nothing he can do about it. You're sure that once he's had some time to really think about it, he'll realize that it's not such a bad scenario. After all, who could he trust more to treat his little sister right than his own best friend? Of course the downside is, that, should there ever be any trouble in your relationship, Xaden would be caught in the middle — but you're not going to worry about that just now. It's never going to come to that.
"But you better stay focused on the important things. If this relationship becomes a distraction—"
"It won't. We're perfectly capable of being in love while still staying professional. Right, Garrick?"
"Right."
"I really fucking hope so," Xaden says, still sulking. He shakes his head. "Gods, I can't believe this shit. Couldn't you have picked someone else?!"
You're not sure if he's talking to you or to Garrick, since he's leaning against the wall with his head leaned back, glaring at the ceiling. Neither of you feels like continuing the argument — and luckily, Bodhi spares you an answer.
"If you ask me, it was about damn time they get together," he grins, instantly guessing what you're talking about as he joins you in the hallway.
"Wait, you knew she likes me?" Garrick asks.
"Of course I knew. I had to listen to her drool over you day in, day out for the last year."
"Bodhi! Shut up!" you whine, jabbing your elbow in his side. It's embarrassing when he puts it like that, and it's made even worse by your dragon's very enthusiastic agreement. You never drooled over Garrick! And while you realize that you do talk about him a lot, Bodhi is definitely exaggerating. He's making it sound as if Garrick is the only topic you ever talk about, for fucks sake!
Xaden looks from Bodhi to you, then back to Bodhi, narrowing his eyes at him like a dragon staring down its prey. "Why am I getting the impression that you knew they're dating before me?"
"Because Y/N already told me yesterday, right after they got together," Bodhi says, chuckling as he adds, "You should have seen the lovestruck look on her face when she came running into class ten minutes late."
Xaden gives you an indignant look. "Seriously? Not enough that you start dating my best friend behind my back, you're also telling everyone else first?"
"I'm not telling everyone else first! Just Bodhi. Because he is my best friend. And I would have told you sooner, too, if I'd had time to talk to you between classes yesterday. Which I didn't. So..." You shrug. "Besides, I don't have to tell you shit."
"Yes, you do."
"Nuh-uh."
"Why don't we just go have breakfast," Garrick interrupts.
"Good idea," you agree and lean up to peck his lips — or at least you try. Xaden's shadows hold you back.
"Oh no. Absolutely not. No kissing in front of me," he growls.
"Just look away then!"
"Save it for when you're alone."
"You're not the boss of me."
"No, but I'm the boss of him," Xaden says, pointing at Garrick, then at the leadership patch on his own uniform. "Wingleader, remember?"
Garrick groans in annoyance, but he knows better than to argue.
You, on the other hand, can't stop yourself from meeting your brother's glare with one of your own. "I'm pretty sure what you're doing right now is called abusing your power."
While you often find yourself wishing you were in the same wing as the boys, it's moments like this when you're glad you aren't. Not that you generally have a problem with taking orders from your brother — when it comes to rebellion stuff, you're glad to follow his lead. But constantly having him breathing down your neck and being in charge of you? No, thanks.
He merely shrugs at your accusation. "Don't care."
"You're being childish, Xaden!"
"Terribly sorry for not wanting to see my sister and best friend be all over each other right in front of me."
"Nobody is forcing you to watch!"
"That's not the point! I don't want this kind of thing happening anywhere near me, no matter if I'm watching or not."
You look to Bodhi for help. "Tell him he's being ridiculous," you demand.
"Sorry Y/N, but he kind of has a point..."
"Oh come on! We're talking about one tiny kiss! It's not like I want to start a full-blown makeout session in front of you!"
"I sure fucking hope you don't," Xaden says, and pushes off the wall he was leaning against. "I'm going to have breakfast now. If you can't keep your hands off of each other, then please don't join me."
With that he walks away. Bodhi shrugs and follows him. So do you and Garrick, but not before using the chance to steal a kiss while their backs are turned.
#garrick tavis x reader#garrick tavis#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing imagine#garrick tavis imagine#xaden riorson x sister!reader#female!reader#riorson!reader#marked!reader
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