#she will do anything to protect her baby brother

[standamianwayne]

yandere! batfam/damian’s twin! reader

so everybody is obsessed w the whole ‘yan! batfam/neglected! reader’ or whatever which i get cause it’s like angsty but i can’t help but ADORE the possible opposite

like picture this: damian’s (who’s been aged up to 18) twin sister, who’s only older by like 10 minutes, and she’s just the apple of everyone’s eye. shows up to the manor when she and dam are like 13 and is so doe-eyed and kind despite her background.

like that’s Bruce’s baby girl! he just straight up adores and spoils her completely. he’s so serious and almost cold in the public eye but that image completely evaporates around his daughter.

she was his robin, but i feel like you would much rather be her OWN hero. so, she becomes Black Canary (yes i know that’s already a character in DC no i don’t care i found out after i came up with the name). i think Bruce is a good dad, like really, but i also think he kinda has an issue with letting his kids become their own person with their own identities. so, it definitely takes some getting used to. but, hey, at least he still has Damian!

speaking of Damian, i adore any storyline that’s to do with twins. twins who hate each other? yes! twins who would die/kill for each other? love it! twins who don’t know about each other at all? oh yeah!

i think that her and damian’s relationship can be best summed up as: “oh my sister? yeah she’s annoying and stupid and blah blah blah” “damian you’re quite literally holding my hand” “so?” he’s almost like a cat where he pretends like he can’t stand her, but also he’s glued to her side whenever he can help it.

like it’s pretty standard sibling stuff. but then you throw them behind trained assassins and all the crime fighting on top, and i believe that they become pretty protective over each other (even if they don’t wanna admit it). plus, even though it’s only 10 minutes, she is still older. which is a fact she does not take lightly, if her teasing is anything to go by. sure, they were babies at the same time, but he’s still her baby brother!

ill upload the other batboys+girls later but yall pleaseeee let me cook 🙏 also might be ooc but im a fluff girl at heart so f it we ball

[lillaydee]

The Arrangement Part 10

Frontier! Joel Miller / Reader

Your life crumbled to nothing during a migration to Jackson, forcing you to agree to an arrangement just to survive.

NOTE: Possible inaccuracies in baby developments, food intake and inheritance or ownership laws coming. I really know nothing, but I needed to put some stuff in for the sake of the story line, so please forgive me and take everything in the spirit of storytelling yeah?

WARNINGS: Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Frontier Joel, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Virgin Joel, Virgin Reader, Minor Character Death, Period-typical Misogyny, Marriage of Convenience

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 9

Your sight remained blurry all the way home, Maria immediately getting Tommy, telling him to get Will and Benny and Diana. She thanked Max for the two of you, but politely told him it would be best if he left. Max nodded and tipped his hat at you, not that you noticed.

“Make sure you don’t let Joel get anywhere near her,” she told Tommy.

Tommy was confused but did as his wife told him. Minutes later Diana came running into your house followed by the rest of the Miller men, asking Maria what happened. Liv and Diana’s faces visibly turned red, so did Tommy, Will and Benny’s. You were inconsolable, struggling to even draw breath, let alone say anything.

You couldn’t even qualify what you were feeling. Sadness? Anger? Jealousy?

No.

What felt closest to what you were feeling was simply devastation. Heartbreak. Betrayal.

Your husband, the sweetest man you had ever met, who, up until a few weeks ago was so affectionate, so loving, so romantic, making you feel all sorts of feelings that left you floating on air, went to the brothel to get his needs met.

He went to Rose. In broad daylight.

Esther was right after all.

He was so unsatisfied by you, so unaroused, so unfeeling for you, he resorted to going to working ladies, rather than try again with you.

The house was quiet. No one said anything. Everyone was quietly seething and devastated for you.

Ellie’s cries filled the house. Liv made to go get her, but you stopped her, going in to get her yourself, shutting the bedroom door behind you. You picked her up, tearfully consoling her, telling her everything will be alright.

Will it, though?

Could you live with this? Could you get past this?

A lot of men seek services at the brothel. Their wives knew. And yet they remained married, having child after child with their husbands. They look the other way, turn a blind eye. Could you?

“I know we are all angry at him,” you heard Tommy’s voice said. “But I know my brother. He is in love with Elena. You know this, Maria. He was never like this, not even with Annie.”

“As angry as I am with him, I hate to say it, but he’s right. I’ve never seen Joel this smitten with anyone,” Maria said, despite being so livid for you earlier. “If this had been idle gossip I would never have believed it, but I saw him. With my own eyes.”

“This is not like him, he would never do something this stupid. There must be an explanation.”

Tommy was doing what a good brother would do, defending his brother, the one who sacrificed a lot for him to make sure he had a good life growing up. Will and Benny didn’t say much. Liv and Diana remained quiet. To be fair, the two ladies didn’t really know Joel, having only met him when you got to Jackson.

“I cannot believe he would do this,” Benny’s voice was disbelieving. “The way he was so enamoured with Elena was something else. He’s the last man I would ever see doing this.”

“But he did. He did do this. We can all deny and question it, but he did do this. When he’s wrong, he’s wrong. No use defending him.” It was clear to everyone that Will wasn’t having any of this.

“Are we just going to throw him out because of this? He’s family,” Tommy sounded desperate. “He’s my brother.”

“And he betrayed Elena,” Maria was firm in her stand. “He promised her that he would be faithful to her. A brothel, Tommy? You expect us to let that go? Let bygones be bygones?”

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t think I can ever look him in the eyes again,” Diana finally chimed in.

“ELENA!”

You froze.

“ELENA… darling, please…”

“No, he is not coming in here,” Will said, and you heard the chair scrape against the floor, followed by a rough opening of the front door. No… please don’t Will… don’t…

You opened your bedroom door, passing Ellie to Liv, running to the door, only to see the three men already outside, confronting a sweaty, panicked, out of breath Joel, who had clearly been running all the way from town. Will, leading his brother and cousin, immediately landed a punch on your husband’s face.

“No! Will! Don’t, please… don’t hurt him!”

You ran outside, trying hard to get to him, worried that the much bigger Will would kill your husband. All betrayal was lost, all anger and heartbreak and devastation disappeared at that moment.

Will managed to land another punch to a non-fighting Joel before you got to him, placing your body in front of him, begging Will to stop, to not hurt your husband. You loved him. I love him. Will, please, I love him. Please, don’t hurt him. Will seemed to snap out of his anger, looking at you in shock for a few seconds before screaming at Joel, how could you do this to her? What were you thinking? Benny and Tommy pulled him back, calming the older Miller down.

“Explain yourself, brother. What you did was inexcusable,” Tommy calmly said.

Joel placed his hand on your shoulder, quietly telling you to go inside. The left side of his face already blooming with bruises, his nose bloody. You surged to wipe the blood away, but he gently took your hand in his and told you he was alright. Please, darling, go inside. I will be right in. Please.

Benny pulled you gently by the elbow, and you reluctantly let him do so, passing you to Diana, who was giving Joel a stern look. Maria and Liv waited at your front door. If looks could kill, your husband would be long dead, thrice over. Joel kept his head down, accepting his family’s perception of him, but watched you go inside, his heart broken into pieces at the thought of you still trying to defend him despite what had happened.

And if he heard you right, even in thinking he did what you thought he did, you still told his older cousin that you loved him.

**********

You sat on your kitchen table, a cup of tea in your hands, courtesy of a very fidgety Maria. Your sisters sat with you, Liv with a protective arm around your shoulder, Diana with Ellie in her arms, all watching the Miller men through the open window.

They were all sat on the grass in a circle, a ways away from the house, Joel doing the talking while the others listened, taking in everything he was telling them. You couldn’t see their faces, only Joel’s. Joel kept stealing looks into the house, eyes searching for you, a look of worry and devastation on his face.

The three Miller men suddenly dropped their heads down, shaking them disbelievingly, making your heart drop. What? What did he say? What was happening? Joel dropped his head, too. Seemingly from shame. Liv’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and your heart dropped further, oh God, this looked bad.

Suddenly, the three men’s shoulders started shaking, even Will’s. Your husband’s head remained down, his fingers on his forehead, shaking his head too, before finally lifting it, a controlled smile on his face. The other three Miller men started howling, laughing so hard they could hardly sit up properly. Joel started laughing too, but not as much as his brothers, who by now were wiping their eyes from laughter, hands on their tummies, almost bent double from the hilarity of whatever was going on.

They eventually stopped laughing. A good ten seconds went by when Benny snorted, and off they all went again, laughing so hard, Joel now red in the face, head still down, shoulders shaking every now and again when he gave in and began giggling for a few beats before stopping again, looking so ashamed of himself.

“What on earth is going on?” Diana asked, at which point you realized that everyone was staring at their husbands, a befuddled look on their faces.

The men finally stopped laughing, breaking again every now and then, before getting up, and shaking their heads, patting Joel on his back. His head remained down, albeit with a small smile on his face. Will stood in front of him, saying something you couldn’t hear, and hugged him tight, slapping him on his back a few times, which Joel willingly accepted and returned. Tommy and Benny stayed outside, while Will and Joel walked back into the house, Will telling Liv to get Ellie, she will be spending the night with them tonight. Maria, Diana, let’s go. He came to you, apologizing for hitting your husband, telling you to hear him out, before giving you a tight side hug.

The ladies hugged you, side-eyeing Joel as they left, a grumpy Ellie in Liv’s arms. Maria closed the door behind her, leaving you and your husband alone in your living room, where the awkwardness suddenly returned, and your anger began to swell back in your chest.

He stood dumbly for a few minutes, before telling you he was going to wash first, but he will explain everything to you, alright? You kept your head down, knowing for a fact - considering that you broke when you saw Will hit him - that if you looked at him, you would give in to him. And you knew you shouldn’t. He did something wrong. He should be made to explain himself, be made to apologize.

You stayed where you were as he cleaned himself behind the house, and when he came back in, he offered you a hand, which you took, and led you into his bedroom, sitting you on his bed before joining you, sitting opposite you, your knees touching.

He took a deep breath and told you everything.

**********

Joel Miller was a gifted man. He had always known that. He had always been told that, even in his childhood. His brother, his cousins, his friends, all teased him about it. He never thought much of it, until he joined the army. His buddies would make lewd remarks about his member. It didn’t help that he was so shy about mingling with the ladies, oh… Miller’s just afraid he might end up winning the war with his weapon of mass destruction, they said. Careful where you aim that thing, Miller, the ladies may not live long to tell the tale. Oh, boy Miller, you’re gonna split some unlucky lady in half with that huge dong of yours. Watch where you’re running with that, Miller, you don’t want to trip on that third leg.

All these teasing, the lewd comments, the double meaning remarks, unbeknownst to his friends and family, made him extremely ashamed of his own body. So Joel went about his life being self-conscious of his private part. He never messed around, as he told you. He even stayed away from talks regarding that matter, knowing that the stories would inevitably lead to more teasing his way. They always did. His army buddies made a point to let him know every time he was showing through his trousers in public, particularly around the ladies.

At one point, his name became one that was always mentioned among the working ladies at the local brothel where he was stationed, all the ladies knew of him, despite never setting foot in the establishment. The ladies in the army knew of him, chasing him around, wanting a glimpse. Coupled with the fact that he was raised to be a gentleman by his Mama, his shy nature exacerbated his consciousness, and made him stay away.

He even convinced himself he wasn’t interested in such activities. When needs arise, he was mindful, settling instead for relieving himself with his own hands, pictures of ladies on flyers and magazines becoming his inspirations. It’s safe, healthy, even, and he was not in danger of getting a disease, or impregnating any ladies, let alone hurting them. He eventually got used to this, thinking that when the time comes, when he married, he will deal with the situation face on, but until then, his hands would have to do.

But then he met you, and for the first time in his life, Joel Miller really wanted to be intimate with a woman. But not just any woman, with you, his wife. Someone who he was supposed to be intimate with, encouraged, even. But at the same time, he had promised you he would be respectful. And he really was. For what felt like years to him, he did not touch himself at all after the wedding, trying to respect the fact that you were right there, sleeping in the next wagon. He refrained himself from touching you too much, but it was like an impossibility.

He didn’t even realize what he was yearning for was intimate in nature at first.

Everything was hidden behind his feelings for you, one he had never felt before. It took him by surprise. He remembered what he said to you about love on that first ride together, and at the time, what he thought was a crush and a harmless attraction to you revolved around wanting to be near you, getting to know you. He found himself smiling to sleep with the thought of you, looking forward to be alone with you, anything at all, as long as he was with you. His body magnetized towards you. In a short span of time, he found himself becoming extremely protective of you, consumed by you. You were always on his mind. Every single time he planned something in his head, you were right there. He didn’t think much of it, you were his wife, after all. Of course you would be in his plans. Right?  

Until that day he saw you bathing. The images of your body in a wet robe drove him wild. He couldn’t stop wondering what you would look like sans the material. His body responded to you in a way he had never experienced before. When the ladies he encountered during his army days tried to get close to him, all he could think of was to get away. But you… all he wanted was to hold you tight, make you feel good. His wonders about you went from how you liked your morning coffee to wondering what sounds you would make if he kissed your neck, and to his shame, how you would look like naked underneath his own naked body.

And once he realized that, as the days went by and his feelings for you got stronger and stronger, his need for you got bigger and bigger. But he had promised you. Only when you asked for it. And Joel Miller was a man who kept his promise.

He couldn’t help himself. His old habit resurfaced, only this time, his inspiration for manual relief turned from some random woman on a piece of paper to you, a real, living, breathing person, who he was married to. And to make things even more difficult, you seemed to respond to him, getting closer and closer, being more comfortable with his advances, and soon, physical touches became a norm between the two of you, not that he was complaining about it.

When the two of you moved in and got a lot more physical than usual, he found it harder and harder to stay away from you. His desire for you became unavoidable. His thoughts were full of you. So that night, when you finally asked him to take you, it was literally his dreams come true. But as he was kissing you, preparing to consummate your marriage, he came to a devastating realization. 

He had no idea what he was doing.

What did he have to do? What do people usually do? Do you just stick it in? So many thoughts went through his head in those few seconds he was on top of you. Why, oh why didn’t he talk to Tommy and his cousins about this before then? Why did he shy away when his friends talked about their experiences? Oh God, he was going to hurt you, wasn’t he? All the teasing, all the self-consciousness, all the lack of knowledge, came rushing to his head. He was so ashamed of himself he couldn’t even look at you.

But, God, he wanted you. He wanted you so badly, he was shaking with need. His head was so full of his intrusive thoughts, from things that he could no longer do anything about, to his fear of hurting you, to his selfish need and desire for you. He was so nervous, he didn’t even take your clothes off. Come to think of it, he didn’t even take his trousers off fully.

And he did the unthinkable. He did the one thing he didn’t want to do.

He hurt you. Badly.

The sounds you were making were nothing like what he had imagined you would be making, nothing like the ones he had heard when passing by the brothels or the alleys when his buddies would have a woman. There was no passionate moaning, no screams of joy and pleasure. You were obviously in pain, and he had caused that. His friends were right. His generous member would end up hurting a woman, and it did. He had hurt you, badly, with his ‘gift’.

And to his own shame, the one thing he couldn’t forgive himself for, was the fact that he didn’t stop. You were so tight he couldn’t even go in all the way. And yet, it was the best feeling he had ever felt in his life, so, while you were in excruciating pain, his own needs took over, it was like he no longer had control over his own body and he selfishly let his body continue what it was doing to you until he finished, all while you were hissing and stiff from enduring the pain that he had caused you.

Once the clouds of euphoria left him, he was horrified. He had forced himself on you, in a way. He should have stopped. But he didn’t. He promised you he would never force you to do anything. And while you didn’t tell him to stop, he should have. And he didn’t.

He couldn’t even look at you. He was so ashamed of himself, he couldn’t even be a gentleman about it all. He let you leave the room, wincing and hissing in pain and discomfort as you did so, while he just sat there in his own shame. And when he finally went to clean himself, he realized that there was blood on his member. Your blood. He had hurt you so badly you were bleeding. He caused you to bleed. His shame finally caught up to him and he sobbed uncontrollably for the pain he had caused you. He, who yelled at Esther for spilling hot stew on your hand, who worried about your hand chafing from carrying water, had hurt you to the point of bleeding.

He tried to go to you, he wanted to see if you were alright, but you had blocked the door with your own body. He eventually relented and gave you some time to yourself before going to you, but when he heard you hissing in pain as you cleaned yourself, he couldn’t do it. How could he face you again? He was a bad husband, hurting his wife like that.

The few weeks that followed were the worst moments of his life.

When he woke up the next day and found the house without your presence in it, he panicked. Did you run off? Had he scared you like that? And in his relief of seeing you walk up to the house, he couldn’t help but notice your gait was off. You were still in pain. Every time you sat down, every time you got up, the subtle wince that resulted let him know that. He had physically hurt you. Badly. It took three whole days before he couldn’t detect any discomfort from you.

Was this how it would remain? That every time he had you, every time he gave in to his needs, you would end up in three days’ worth of pain?

How could he ever endure that? Seeing you in pain hurt him. Knowing that he was the reason you were in pain? He might as well die.

Maybe this was the way things went for people of his… afflictions. This ‘gift’ he supposedly had was his biggest disadvantage. Maybe he was just not meant to have you that way, not without hurting you. And in thinking this, he realized that he would willingly find a way to be alright with that. With never having you again. He would endure it. Just so he could spend the rest of his life with you.

Because he found that he could not imagine his life without you.

He couldn’t touch you as he once did. Despite the pain he knew he caused you, his needs for you multiplied. He wanted you, now more than ever. And every single touch and kisses were temptations of the greatest proportions for him. Even bathing himself, using the same soap you did, became a hurdle. The smell, your smell, overwhelmed him. And having your soft lips on his, oh…

Eventually, things got better. The two of you were laughing again, albeit with much less physical contact. But as the days went by, his need for you increased, and soon, he wanted you so badly he couldn’t sleep. He found himself physically, consciously refraining from going into your room to just ravage you. But he knew he shouldn’t do that.

So, he went back to his old habit. Away from the house, in the safety of the outhouse, where he would be alone. But when he walked in after that rainy night, he knew you knew. You knew he had been defiling himself to take care of his selfish needs. And he knew you were offended. He knew he had hurt you beyond the physical pain he had caused you.

If he thought not being able to touch you the way he wanted was painful, it was nothing compared to the way he felt when you stopped looking at him, stopped touching him. He found himself on a constant edge of tears. To have you treating him so well still, taking care of his daughter for him, cooking and cleaning for him, keeping him company, reading to him, but without you looking at him, without him being able to see your beautiful, beautiful eyes, made him ache in a way he had never experienced before. You flinched away from his touch as if his hands were made from fire. It would have been less painful if you had just treated him badly. He deserved it. But no. You remained the angel in disguise that he didn’t even feel he deserved, all the while keeping a large chasm between you and him that he would want nothing more than to bridge.

He tried, from that day after the fateful night, to talk to his brothers. To ask them what to do. But every time he tried, the memories of them making fun of him as children came to surface, and as childish as it may seem, he balked. The possibility of them making fun of him again, as silly as it may be, scared him. He didn’t think he could take it. He also doubted that they could help anyway, none of them suffer as badly from this affliction of his. And to say they were experts on the matter, as far as he knew, they were all inexperienced up until the day they were married too, and the one who was married the longest was Tommy, and even that, he married about a month before the journey to Jackson. And his biggest doubt of all, in telling them this, he would have to indirectly divulge private information about you. He could never shame you like that. What if they told their wives?

No… he shouldn’t talk to them about this.

He was going out of his mind, when one day, as he was fixing the door to one of the rooms at Rose’s establishment, a direct result of a fight over a particular working lady the day prior, he heard Rose’s talk with a couple of the ladies.

Apparently, a certain client of hers was particularly gifted, just like him, and had hurt a young lady in acquiring her services. Rose was seething, going on and on about mindless men who took no time in preparing the ladies for their own selfish needs. Well-endowed men are the worst, she had spat out. Was it so bad to help prepare the ladies? Wouldn’t the whole experience be better if she was prepared for him? But no… leave the ladies in pain, why don’t you. Never mind that all the lady would feel was pain. Never mind that the pain caused them to clamp up. Never mind that the pain caused the ladies to limp for days. So long as your ego is stroked, so long as you finish, why bother making the ladies feel good at all?

Joel listened to Rose’s rants, feeling as if she had been right at his bedside that fateful night. What did she mean by preparing the lady? Was she implying that men like him could actually make the ladies feel good? Was there a way for him to have you without hurting you? More to the point, could he actually make you feel good?

It hit him like a wagon train on a run. She would know, wouldn’t she? She’s had enough… experience. This was her expertise. And best of all, she was discreet. As far as he knew, she had never, ever, divulged personal information about her clients to anyone.

It took everything in him to gather up the courage to walk up to her desk at the end of the job, supposedly to collect payment, for him to ask her if he could talk to her about something, discreetly. To her credit, she didn’t make fun of him at all. She listened as he told her the issue he was having, without divulging too much information, obviously, asking her if she could help him make him and his wife… happy. He made it clear, that under no circumstances was he willing to cheat on his wife. No ma’am, he was not interested in that. He was simply a desperate man who needed her help, sans the normal services she and her ladies usually provided.  

She didn’t respond for a while, causing him to hesitate and leave. He had just stepped out the front door when she called his name.

“You fix things around here for free every Saturday for a month. Come over tomorrow after lunch, and I will teach you how to please your wife. No touching.” She held out a hand for him to shake. And he gladly took it.

“Deal.”

**********

He stopped talking. His head down, looking at his fidgety hands, not daring to look at your sweet, sweet face. You hadn’t said a word to him. Hadn’t responded, hadn’t taken your eyes off him, in fact. After the past week or so, he should be thankful for it. He had missed having you look at him. But right now, he cowered under your gaze, ashamed that he had let this go on the way it did, for as long as it did.

You got off the bed and left the room. Joel found himself covering his face with his hands defeatedly, tears pouring from his eyes, disgusted with himself for even thinking that what he was doing was going to help him solve his problems. His shoulders shook, letting all his regrets and frustrations out, knowing that the marriage he had envisioned with you had effectively ended, and it was all due to his own stupidity.

A soft, gentle hand touched his shoulder. And there you were, one of his kerchiefs in your hand, a small bucket with ice-cold water in the other. You sat back down in front of him, wet the kerchief and squeezed it dry, before dabbing the bruises on his left cheek, your other hand wiping his tears off his face. Your own eyes were teary, but all anger seemed to have dissipated from them, worry, instead, took its place.

He let you fuss over him, his hands in his lap, not daring to touch you. You continued to wipe his face, icing his bruise, tears falling slowly down your cheek. And when you were done, you leaned in and gently placed a kiss on his injured cheek.

Joel felt as if he was floating on air. His wife had kissed him. He turned his head tentatively, capturing your lips in his. When you didn’t protest, he brought both hands to your cheeks, deepening the kiss, which you happily returned.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said when you pulled back, his forehead on yours, “I’m sorry for hurting you, for pulling back from you, for everything. Please, believe me. I did not betray you. I would never. My heart, my body, they’re yours. Only yours. Please, my darling wife, forgive me.”

You looked into his eyes and found no lies there. Only sincerity, honesty, yearning.

You patted his pillow, asking him to lie down. He’s injured, he should rest. He did as you asked him to, pulling your hand to join him. You laid down next to him, facing him.

“You were not lying?”

“No, darling, I am not.”

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” Your eyes looked so sad he raised himself on one elbow and took your face in his hand.

The familiar shyness consumed his face. He took a deep breath, eyes looking deep into yours.

“Elena, I am so in love with you. I love you so much, my heart couldn’t take the thought of hurting you. It beats for you. I cannot imagine my life without you. You are all I think about, I lay awake at night wondering what I ever did to deserve you. I want you, all of you. I need you to be alive. I want you so badly I ache. I was going out of my mind trying to stay away from you, to not hurt you. You have no idea how much I need you, how much I want you.”

You blushed, “You love me?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head a little, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head, eyes away from him, unable to look at him without feeling like you could melt. You face felt so hot you were sure it was beet red.

He took your chin into his fingers again, “Well, now you do.”

He kissed you, passionately. And you found yourself giving him that kiss right back, pressing your own body to him, and he immediately laid you back, his body covering yours, arms tight around you, yours around his torso, fingers clutching onto his shirt. He stopped for a beat, looking at you with teary eyes, telling you he loved you again, and this time, you replied.

“I love you too.”

He nodded with a happy, teary smile, and his lips found yours again, putting all his feelings for you in that kiss, which you reciprocated, your tongue playing with his, making him groan. He let go of your lips, trailing his kisses down to your jaw before going to your neck, his scruff making you whine.

This was new. He had never done this before. Your body felt as if it was on fire. And no, you didn’t want him to stop. So when he tried to claim your lips again, you quickly asked him a very important question.

“So, Mr Miller. Are you going to show your wife what you’ve learnt today?”

Part 11

[flamingpudding]

That's my baby brother you attacked

Jazz stood in her Fenton Ghost Peeler Suit and crossed arms before a group of Gothams vigilantes. Her little brother was hugging her around the shoulder, in his Phantom form and floating. His face pressed into her shoulder and letting out quite ghostly whines couple with her name in ghost speech. He was clearly distressed.

With crossed arms, she glared at Gotham's vigilantes. They stood before her as a group. But the front took... Nightwing? She believed that was the name he used to introduce himself, who had the current Robin clinging to his arm. The kid looked as distressed as her brother, and normally, she would care to help, but right now, she was in protective sister mode. HER brother came first.

"We really mean no harm. It's just Robin and the others mistook him for a clone, and we would like to-"

"No." She cut the guy off. She glanced at HER baby brother, still refusing to look up and face the situation as he made another ghostly whine, before looking back at the group of vigilantes.

"I can see how they could be related." She raised an eyebrow below the visor at how hopeful the groups stance became. They don't know Danny's human form, but that's the excuse they use for attack her brother? They assumed he was a clone just because he looked like the inverted image of one of them? Fat chance that she would let them anywhere near him now. "But, you attacked MY baby brother-"

"And we are very sorry about that!" Nightwing cut in but Jazz ignored it.

"The point is you attacked him. I don't care if they are related. This is MY baby brother and if that is their reaction on seeing him and handling his own ghost rogues. I will NOT allow them to be part of his life unless Phantom wants it himself."

Turning around, she pat her baby brothers head and whispered to him in ghost speech. "Common Danny, let's go. Let's visit that planetarium you wanted to see later. After that we never have to come to Gotham again, I can go to another university somewhere far away from here."

They didn't know Phantom was Danny Nightingale, neither did they know that she was Jasmine Nightingale. This would be a one-time meeting and stay that way. Her baby brother did not need people like that in his life after the falling out with their parents they had.

[aliferous-ly]

not to bnha on main but I'm thinking about fuyumi

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[harrysfolklore]

the universe needs leclerc!sister x harry. by the universe i mean me

kiss a musician - hs

summary: harry wants to date yn leclerc. the only girl out of the four leclerc siblings. her older brother who happens to be a formula 1 driver is not happy about it folkie radio: guys you have no idea how nervous i am of posting this idk why 😭😭 i really hope you like this otherwise i'll feel silly okay

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 502,255 others

ynleclerc hot girls cry on their birthday 💌

view all 9,736 comments

username1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE LECLERC

username2 she’s the moment

scuderiaferarri Happy Birthday, Ferrari queen ❤️♥︎ by author

username3 AHH WE SHARE THE SAME BIRTHDAY

pierregasly Wow! I still remember when you were a little kid and you wanted to play with Charles’ kart. Happy birthday 🎉 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram when you and charles rocked justin bieber haircuts. cheers

↳ username1 HEEELP

carmenmmundt Happy birthday gorgeous gorgeous girl ✨ ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram love youuu ty 💓

pascale_leclerc Joyeux anniversaire ma petite fille ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl Stop growing up right now 🥲🥲 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 the leclercs are cry babies when it comes to her

arthur_leclerc It’s giving old lady

↳ ynleclerc stfu you’re like 5

↳ username2 LOVE THEMMM

alexandrasaintmleux My girl ❣️ ♥︎ by author

landonorris HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE 😍 getting more gorgeous by the second ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDO YOU’RE ON MAIN

↳ charles_leclerc How many times do I have to tell you to back off?

↳ username2 CHILL

lilyhme happy birthdayyy beauty, can’t wait to celebrate tonight 🕺♥︎ by author

↳ alexandrasaintmleux She has no idea of the surprise that’s coming her way

↳ ynleclerc JUST TELL ME ALREADY

charles_leclerc Happy birthday petite soeur, you might be older now but you’ll always be our baby ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 AWEEE

↳ username2 protective big bro

liked by harrystyles, ynleclerc and 2,011,268

charles_leclerc I’ll always look after you. Joyeux anniversaire ma petite soeur ❤️

tagged: ynleclerc

view all 13,944 comments

username1 AWEEE

username2 MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 ♥︎ by author

carlossainz55 Happy birthday @ynleclerc 🎉

username3 charles adores her so much i can’t do this

landonorris happy birthday (again) i hope you got my flowers @ynleclerc 😘

↳ charles_leclerc That’s it.

↳ ynleclerc HE DIDNT SEND ME ANYTHING HES JUST MESSING WITH YOU FFS 😭

↳ username1 HELP MEEEEEEEEEE

username4 what is HARRY STYLES doing in the likes

↳ username1 charles x harry lore is real

ynleclerc Love you forever 💓 ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl Before both of you became annoying teenagers

↳ ynleclerc stfu you’re like 50

liked by username1, username2 and 27,936 others

harryupdates Harry performing at a private event in Monaco tonight !

view all 1,976 comments

username1 WTF?????

username2 WHATS GOING ONNNNN

username3 GOD I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

username4 someone dig in more information bc wtffff

username5 MONACO OUT OF ALL PLACES THATS SO RANDOM

username6 YALL I HAVE INFO!! apparently this is charles leclerc’s (formula 1 ferrari driver) sister’s bday party

↳ username1 OMFGGG

↳ username2 THIS CROSSOVER

↳ username3 imagine having a rich brother who can get harry styles to perform at your birthday party

liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 654,835 others

ynleclerc BEST PARTY EVER 😭😭 thank you to my angels @/charles_leclerc @/alexandrasaintmleux for putting this together for me, HARRY STYLES ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME ???? love you all so much 💓💓

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, landonorris, harrystyles

view all 15,937 comments

username1 OMFGGGG

username2 OH TO BE YN LECLERC

oscarpiastri Coolest party ever 🤘♥︎ by author

username3 imagine being rich and pretty and having a rich and pretty brother who hires harry styles to perform at your party

arthur_leclerc Your gift from me was a Chanel purse, where is my post?

↳ ynleclerc sorry turtur but harry styles > chanel purse

↳ arthur_leclerc Fine I agree, Harry Styles is out of this world

username4 IT GIRL FR FR

francisca.cgomes I’m still hungover ♥︎ by author, iamrebeccad, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe

↳ iamrebeccad Same

↳ ynleclerc come to my place let’s bed rot together ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe, iamrebeccad

↳ username1 i just want to be one of them 😩

username5 charles really got HARRY STYLES like antisocial harry styles who never leaves the house to perform at his little sister’s wedding. wow

username6 THIS IS FOR THE F1 x HARRY GIRLIES

alexandrasaintmleux You deserve it my gorgeous girl ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc you’re my favorite human on earth

↳ charles_leclerc I paid for the entire thing…

↳ ynleclerc did i ask?

↳ username1 LOVE THEM 😭

harrystyles Happy birthday again, YN. It was a pleasure to meet you and your brothers. Big love to the entire family x ♥︎ by author, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

↳ username1 HARRYYYYY

↳ username2 we NEED to see that harry x charles pic

↳ charles_leclerc Thank you for the performance, mate 🙌

↳ username3 this is still surreal to me

↳ ynleclerc best birthday thanks to youuuu ❣️

↳ username1 charles or harry?

↳ yourinstagram harry ofc

lorenzotl Love you so much, little one 💓 ♥︎ by author

landonorris When your babe posts you on main 😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDOOOO😭

↳ username2 i love their friendship and how they mess around to piss charles off

↳ ynleclerc my main bitch 😘

↳ charles_leclerc I’m logging out now

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liked by charles_leclerc, harrystyles and 597,367 others

ynleclerc anything interesting happening in monza this weekend?

view all 13,199 comments

username1 COOL GIRL

username2 if charles doesn’t win then we don’t care ♥︎ by author

arthur_leclerc Is that my hoodie?

↳ ynleclerc whoops

iamrebeccad You’re hanging out with me 🥰 ♥︎ by author

↳ carmenmmundt And me ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc highlight of my weekend

username3 FORZA FERRARI

↳ ynleclerc forza charles*

↳ username1 REAL

landonorris Papaya looks better on you babe 🤩

↳ username1 sometimes idk if lando is just joking or if he’s being fr

↳ ynleclerc NO

↳ charles_leclerc I’m in your walls

username4 HARRY IN THE LIKES ???

charles_leclerc Ma petite soeur always supportive ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc im here for other reasons

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 599,637 others

ynleclerc HE WON 🥺🥺 i’ve never felt prouder of being your sister, you teach me what being resilient and fighting for your dreams means. IL PREDESTINATO. THE KING OF MONZA. FIER DE TOIN TOUJOURS

view all 13,986 comments

username1 AWEEEEE

username2 THE LECLERCS MAKING ME CRY TODAY

scuderiaferrari It's in his blood ❤️

username3 the way she was crying and hugging arthur when the camera showed them THE LECLERC SIBLINGS HAVE MY HEART ♥︎ by author

alexandrasaintmleux 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 ♥︎ by author

username4 BEST RACE EVER

landonorris I'll win more races for you babe 😘 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDO STOP

↳ ynleclerc you're all talk and no trousers

↳ username2 i love their friendship sm

harrystyles Congratulations @/charles_leclerc! ♥︎ by author, charles_leclerc

↳ username2 hARRY STYLES???

↳ username3 THIS IS SO RANDOM WTF

↳ username4 LSJSAFH WHAT??

↳ username5 I guess he became with the leclercs after the party 😭

↳ charles_leclerc Wow thank you mate! ♥︎ by harrystyles

charles_leclerc Je t'aime petite soeur ❤️ ♥︎ by ynleclerc

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───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 18,037 others

harryupdates Harry having in dinner in Italy tonight !

view all 1,028 comments

username1 BABYYYY

username2 italyrry lives

username3 IS HE ON A DATE

username4 BUUUB

username5 i was there and he was with a girl 👀

↳ username1 hello spill the deets ??

↳ username2 HUH

↳ username5 the girl was really pretty and they were chatting and laughing all night long, they looked cute

↳ username3 IM PANICKING NOW

ynleclerc has added to their close friends story

replies:

carmenmmundt Omg you went on a date !! So happy for you beauty ✨

↳ ynleclerc love youuu carm

francisca.cgomes THATS MY BABYYY who’s the lucky guy?

↳ ynleclerc can’t say yet 🤫🤫

alex_albon Charles won’t like this..

↳ ynleclerc he doesn’t have to know

landonorris NOOOO YOU’RE MY BABE

landonorris WHO’S THAT????

↳ ynleclerc that’s a secret i’ll never tell

harrystyles ❤️

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liked by username1, username2 and 25,477 others

harryupdates Harry out and about in Monaco today !

view all 1,987 comments

username1 BABYYY

username2 HE LOOKS SO RICH???

username3 ooohhh is monaco the new italy ??

username4 THE OUTFIT IM SALIVATING

username5 dilf dilf

username6 singlerry is the best thing ever

deuxmoi has added to their stories

liked by harrystyles, alexandrasaintmleux and 601,275 others

ynleclerc happy ❤️

view all 14,837 comments

username1 OMG BABY LECLERC HAS A BOYFRIEND ??

username2 PRETTYYY

francisca.cgomes 😍😍 my baby! ♥︎ by author

username3 BRO CHARLES IS NOT GOING TO LIKE THIS

username4 WAITING FOR CHARLES’ MELTDOWN

lorenzotl Wow I didn’t know about this, I’m happy for your, soeur 🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 the only sane leclerc ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

landonorris BABE?? ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 OMFG THE FLOWERS COULD BE FROM LANDO

↳ username2 LANDOYN IS REAL

leclerc_pascale ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹 ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

↳ username3 HELP CHARLES IS SO ANNOYING

arthur_leclerc EXCUSE ME WHEN WAS THIS

↳ ynleclerc just flowers turtur

username5 CHARLES WAS FOUND SOBBING

username6 HARRY IN THE LIKES

charles_leclerc YN Pascale Leclerc, answer your phone right this second

↳ username1 NOT THE FULL GOVERNMENT NAME

↳ username2 PROTECTIVE BRO

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 604,827 others

ynleclerc but god i love the english ‼️‼️

view all 15,002 comments

username1 OMG

username2 AHH I FEEL LIKE SHES DATING LANDO

carmenmmundt 🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

username3 HOW DID CHARLES ALLOW THIS

leclerc_pascale Belle 💕♥︎ by author

username4 HOLD ON. THATS HARRY STYLES IN THE SECOND PIC??

↳ username1 YOU’RE RIGHT THOSE ARE HIS TATTOOS

↳ username2 OH LORD

arthur_leclerc JUST SPILL

↳ username1 yn not telling her brothers anything is so 😭

username4 someone put charles on a straightjacket

username5 so yn is dating either lando norris or harry styles ?? what an icon

landonorris YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY BABE IDC 😤

↳ username1 SO ITS NOT LANDO

↳ ynleclerc dude give it up

gemmastyles 💓♥︎ by author

↳ username1 OH

↳ username2 STYLES-LECLERC CONFIRMED

username6 CHARLES IS RADIO SILENT THIS IS SCARY

alexandrasaintmleux Prettiest girl forever 🥰 i’m happy for you ♥︎ by author

↳ username3 charles is single now

lorenzotl Petite soeur! Your happiness is mine 🙌 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc 🥹

↳ username1 lorenzo is such a supportive big brother :(

charles_leclerc You’re not allowed to leave the house once you’re back in Monaco

↳ username1 HEEELP

↳ username2 HES SO DAMN ANNOYING

↳ username3 POOR YN

liked by username1, username2 and 21,937 others

harryupdates Harry out in London today!

view all 2,011 comments

username1 BUBBBB

username2 WHOS THAT

username3 guys guys yn leclerc had that same outfit on her last insta story

username4 THATS YN LECLERC 😭

username5 HARRYYN STYLECLERC CONFIRMED

username6 bro how did this happen…

username7 that’s why he performed at her birthday and he kept going to monaco OMG

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynleclerc has added to their close friends story

replies:

francisca.cgomes 😂😂😂😂😂

alexandrasaintmleux He has his phone with him now

↳ ynleclerc i’ve muted the groupchat for my own sanity

alex_albon You’re going to give your brother a heart attack…

↳ ynleclerc that’s not on me he’s just dramatic

landonorris HARRY STYLES ????? HOW?????

↳ ynleclerc you don’t think i’m capable of pulling him?

↳ landonorris yes you are 😩

↳ landonorris you’ll always be my babe tho

harrystyles Don’t joke about that love I’ve been panicking all day

harrystyles has added to their close friends story

replies:

mitchrowland And one of them can run you over with a Ferrari, by the way

↳ harrystyles This is not helping my case

jefezoff 😂😂😂😂😂

gemmastyles You’ll survive brother (hopefully)

niallhoran YOOO you and Leclerc’s sister? How did that happen

↳ harrystyles I’ll tell you about it if i make it out alive after family dinner

ynleclerc you’re a cutie

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, alexandrasaintmleux and 602,838 others

ynleclerc 💋

view all 14,088 comments

username1 OMFG

username2 SHES INSANE

username3 GIRLLL ADDRESS THE RUMORS

gerogerussell63 🤣🤣🤣

alex_albon You're really going to give your brother a heart attack...

↳ ynleclerc he'll survive

↳ username1 THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE

username4 THE HARRY LIKE PLEASE HES NOT SURVIVING THAT FIRST DINNER

username5 the vintage racing jacket and the shirt SHE KNOWS WHAT SHES DOING

arthur_leclerc DISGUSTING

↳ username1 HEEEELPPP

liked by username1, username2 and 48,047

gossiphub The Leclerc family was seen out to dinner in Monaco tonight, joined by Harry Styles, who's dating YN Leclerc

view all 3,099 comments

username1 OOOHHH MY GOD

username2 IT HAPPENED

username3 i can only imagine the talk charles gave to harry

username4 DID HARRY MAKE IT OUT ALIVE

username5 oh im praying for harry

username6 STYLECLERC IS ALIVE

username7 meeting her brothers 😭😭😭 i cant

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, arthur_leclerc and 1,022,337 others

yourinstagram dinner update: he made it out alive

view all 10,278 comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 THIS HARD LAUNCH

alex_albon 😂😂😂😂😂

username3 i just need to know how that dinner went

↳ ynleclerc enzo was a sweetheart as always, arthur was a fanboy the entire time and charles couldn't stop yapping about driving fast cars in order to scare harry

↳ username1 HEEEEEELPPP

pierregasly Now he needs to meet your chosen brothers

↳ ynleclerc NO

↳ francisca.cgomes Leave her alone ♥︎ by author

landonorris This is who took my babe away from me? 😩

↳ harrystyles Proudly ♥︎ by author

↳ username2 OMFGGGGGG

↳ username3 THIS IS TOO GOOD

↳ landonorris Can't even complain you're cool as hell mate

lorenzotl He's part of our family now ♥︎ by author, harrystyles

↳ charles_leclerc 😵

↳ arthur_leclerc CRY CHARLES

harrystyles First Leclerc dinner done. Now I need to survive my first Grand Prix ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 IM YELLING

↳ username2 OMFG HARRY AT A GP

↳ charles_leclerc See you in the Paddock, mAtE

↳ ynleclerc LEAVE MY BOYFRIEND ALONE

liked by harrystyles, ynleclerc and 2,011,272 others

charles_leclerc Ma petite soeur pour toujours ❤️🤷‍♂️

view all 16,043 comments

username1 AWEEE

username2 he's such a big brother

alexandrasaintmleux My 🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

username3 i wish my brothers loved me

pierregasly Everyone needs to watch out for Charles when he's in big brother mode ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 tell that to harry styles

scuderiaferrari Name a more iconic duo ❤️

username4 I NEED TO KNOW HOW THEIR CONVERSATION WENT LIKE

arthur_leclerc I'll always be on your side @/harrystyles ♥︎ by ynleclerc, harrystyles

↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ username2 ARTHUR IS SUCH A FAN

↳ lorenzotl Same 🙌

↳ username3 HELP CHARLES IS ON HIS OWN

↳ ynleclerc my favorite brothers 🤍🤍

↳ harrystyles Thank you, Arthur and Lorenzo. I can't wait for golf this weekend x ♥︎ by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, ynleclerc

↳ username4 OMG HE HAS PLANS WITH THE LECLERCS YALL

↳ charles_leclerc I think I just got kicked out of my own family

ynleclerc you’re annoying and want to scare my boyfriend away, but i love you ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 they’re the besttt

[regonold]

Danny gets deaged and heads to Gotham to find jazz at collage there's only one problem he knows where the collage is just now where jazz's class is

Enter one bruce wayne who genuinely just so happened to be there (he's pulling a brucie wayme stunt) seeing a small kid looking around worried so what does the serial adopter do? Well he goes up to the kid of course crouching down to ask if he's ok whats his name wheres his parents or siblings?

Now jazz, jazz all but raised danny she protected him from a young age and helped him with anything he needed and durimg her time at collage she had worried for him, with the amount of bull her parents spouted she wouldn't be surprised if danny up and left

So imagine her surprise when she spotted her baby brother de aged talking to some stranger and at that moment every instinct flared and she remembered every warning she read or heard about Gotham and she acted

Danny was just looking for his sister when some guy crouched down to talk with him after asking some questions danny heard a sound he was familiar with jazz running

Bruce really wasn't expecting to be kicked for trying to help a kid

Artistic representation of jazz kicking bruce\/

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon

a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.

i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.

lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!

Helaena’s Turn

STAY WITH US

The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.

And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.

The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.

It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.

As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.

For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.

While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.

You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.

It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.

You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.

But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.

You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.

How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.

Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.

Until two days ago.

You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.

Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.

A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.

He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.

His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.

He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.

"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.

You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.

As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.

It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.

Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.

Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.

It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.

Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.

"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.

Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.

"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.

You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."

"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.

Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.

"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.

"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.

"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."

His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.

"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.

"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.

"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.

"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.

He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.

In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.

He's Aegon.

helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN

Final part! STAY WITH US

that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.

i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.

if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!

[br0kenangel]

BABY SISTER: 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

The Red Keep hummed with quiet excitement, a rare gentleness settling over the halls as the news spread. The queen had given birth to another child, a girl, and the brothers were brought to see their sister for the first time.

Aegon, stomped ahead, his silver-blond hair a wild mess that matched the glint of mischief in his violet eyes. “I don’t see why everyone’s so fussed,” he grumbled, casting a look over his shoulder at Aemond, who followed more cautiously. “She’s just a babe. Probably all wrinkly and loud.”

Aemond didn’t reply. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect. His small hand clutched the edge of his older brother’s sleeve, his wide eyes taking in every detail as they approached the cradle where their sister lay sleeping. Aegon made a face as they neared. “See? She’s not doing anything interesting.”

Despite his words, Aegon leaned over the cradle’s edge, his annoyance more curious than he let on. Aemond stood on his toes beside him, peering over, almost shyly. Inside the cradle was the tiniest babe they’d ever seen, her silver hair softer than the finest silk, curling slightly on her tiny head. Her cheeks were pink and round, and she slept peacefully, her breaths soft and steady.

Aegon wrinkled his nose. “She’s so small.” He reached out and gave her a gentle poke on the cheek. “Hey, wake up.”

Aemond gasped softly, his eyes wide. “Don’t!” he whispered, though he was just as curious. He glanced back down at her, nervous that Aegon might have hurt her.

The babe stirred, her little nose scrunching up. Aegon watched in surprise as her eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing the same violet eyes that both brothers shared. She blinked up at them, her gaze drifting between Aegon’s smirk and Aemond’s wide-eyed stare. Then, as if recognizing them in some deep, instinctual way, the corners of her tiny mouth curled into a soft, gentle smile.

Both boys froze, their hearts seeming to stop at the same moment. Aegon, who had been ready to declare his sister boring and unimportant, suddenly found himself captivated by that smile. His earlier irritation melted away, replaced with something warm and protective he didn’t quite understand. “She’s… she’s smiling at us,” he whispered, almost in awe.

Aemond, who had been hesitant, felt his heart swell. He reached out a tiny hand, his fingers barely brushing her soft, pudgy one. “She’s beautiful,” he breathed, his voice filled with wonder.

The babe made a small, contented sound, her tiny hand curling instinctively around Aemond’s finger. Her eyes, so large and innocent, stayed fixed on her brothers, as if already knowing how important they would be in her life. Aegon reached out too, letting her grab his finger with surprising strength. The moment was simple, yet so lovely. The two boys stared down at their sister, completely captivated, forgetting any doubts or teasing words.

Aegon, who had been ready to dismiss her, now felt a fierce surge of love and protectiveness. “I guess… I guess she’s not so bad,” he admitted, but there was no mistaking the affection in his voice.

Aemond just nodded, still entranced, his heart swelling with a love he had never felt before. “We’ll take care of her,” he said softly, a promise in his quiet words.

Part 2 ♡ Part 3

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[multific]

Moonlight 

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warnings: childbirth (no detailed description)

Summary: Aemond loves his little wife, so naturally, when you give birth to your first son, Aemond falls in love even deeper. However, when a simple refusal of his breaks your heart, it will be difficult for him to win you back.

It was hard to keep you close. You were much like Aemond, a true fighter. You had a fire in you which couldn't be questioned. A fire towards him, pure love. And now, fire towards your son.

Aeren was only born a week ago, yet you protected him fiercely like a dragon.

And you refused to let the small child out of your hands.

When Aemond was allowed in the room, he saw the blood, he heard your screams and many times, he wanted to barge in but he knew he couldn't.

So, once he was allowed in, someone informed him that it was a boy and that you were in bad shape. 

Aemond could see it, you looked beyond tired, yet you smiled.

But your smile didn't last long.

Aemond refused to hold his son. 

"Give him to me." he heard your voice as he looked from the woman holding his son to you. You looked angry. Way too angry.

It was too late when Aemond realised what he had just done.

He refused to hold his own child.

And since then, you didn't speak a word to him.

You slept in a different room with your baby, sometimes, late at night, he heard the cries. He wanted to get up and go to you but he couldn't, his guilt was overbearing. 

"You should put a leash on her, brother. If I had a wife like that, she wouldn't be sleeping in another room." Aegon taunted his brother daily. 

One day, you were in the gardens, walking with your son in your arms when Aegon spoke up.

Aemond never heard his brother speak with such longing.

"I truly wish she was mine." 

Aemond looked at his brother who was watching you.

"But she's mine." was his simple and firm reply.

But you truly weren't.

You used to be, now, you just sat next to him during dinners. 

One night, you excused yourself, and he followed you.

In an empty corridor, he spoke up.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he knew why. He very well knew why.

"I'm sorry, My Prince." you turned and looked at him. "I believe you are mistaken. I'm not avoiding you, I just hate to see the disappointment on your face." this surprised Aemond. "I gave birth to a child you refused to even look at. I loved you, Prince Aemond, I truly did. But I love my child more. And if you cannot look at him, you won't get to look at me. Fill your bed with whores for all I care. Goodnight." 

"You are mistaken." he said, not letting you leave, but you did grab the handle. "You-You were in that bed, crying, screaming and bleeding for hours. I couldn't do anything. And when they let me in, the blood... so much... they told me you were weak, you survived but you needed a lot of rest. How-How could I hold my child when the love of my life almost died? How could I look at him when I was worried to even look at you? I feared you would die giving birth. I was shaking. I feared losing you and my child. That is why I didn't hold him. I was scared." you stood there, your hand on the door, you looked away from his eyes.

"Then you could have just fucking say so, Aemond! For fucks sake!"

"That is not very lady-like."

"FUCK lady-like, you made me believe you hate me and our son! I believed I disappointed you since you wanted a daughter."

"I said I would be happy either way. My emphasis was on a girl because I feared if you had a daughter, you would see that as disappointing my bloodline."

"You are fucking terrible at communicating." you opened the door and walked into the huge room in which you stayed the last couple of weeks.

Aemond followed you, and watched as you walked over to the small bed and picked up your son. "Next time, you should just tell me. Letting me assume things clearly don't work out." 

"Of course." a small smile found its way onto his lips, next time, it was the promise of a future, a promise of more, something he could work towards. He walked over to you after closing the door. "I wish to hold him." you handed him the small child who didn't even stir in his sleep. "Aeren you named him I recall." Aemond's attention was now fully on his son as you decided to leave the two alone after watching them for a couple of minutes.

You got changed and when you arrived back, Aemond was sitting on the bed, his son on his chest.

"Some nights I heard his cries. It broke my heart but I broke yours far more. I apologise for not being clear and for causing you pain. I am truly sorry."

"I'm sorry as well. I should have asked." you said as you sat down next to him. "I will have to feed him soon."

"I will stay here with you."

You smiled as the moon shined through the window, illuminating the room a little more, helping the fire so you could see your husband's face.

"I love you so much Aemond."

"I love you too, My Queen." you giggled, moving closer to him as he leaned down to kiss you.

You two kissed in the moonlight until your son made it clear that he was hungry.

It all made you look towards a better future.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[starry-bi-sky]

There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.

He has an older brother

He was dead

(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)

Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.

The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.

His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.

However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.

Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.

(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)

(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)

(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")

("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")

(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")

(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)

(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)

"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"

Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."

Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.

(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)

But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.

And he scowls even deeper.

And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"

Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.

He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."

The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.

Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.

Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.

His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"

There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.

Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.

Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.

There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.

Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.

Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.

Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)

His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.

Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."

"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."

The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.

Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.

Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.

Danyal kills each one.

The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.

"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.

A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."

"Danya!"

Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.

(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)

The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."

Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.

"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.

Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"

"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."

"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.

Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.

Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.

Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."

Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."

"...So be it."

Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.

More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.

It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.

Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.

His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.

But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.

It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.

Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.

In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.

"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"

"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."

That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.

He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.

"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."

Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"

"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."

Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"

Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."

"What if one of us faked our death?"

Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.

Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"

"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.

"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."

Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.

Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.

The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."

Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."

Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."

Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.

Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."

The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.

Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.

...Was mother ever going to tell him?

The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.

His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.

His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.

Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.

The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.

So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.

He has an older brother

His older brother is alive.

(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)

[bunnys-kisses]

single father simon (again!!!) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

the apartment building felt bad for simon riley. a military man with a newborn daughter, his lovely little ruby with her tuft of blond hair and big curious dark eyes. she was a spitting image of her father, except compacted into a chubby little girl.

ruby was precious though, which was why as simon's neighbour you made sure the riley's were taken care of. you'd often bring over leftovers, telling simon that it was impossible to cook for one person.

"simon." you said with your hands on your hips, "if anyone tells you that you can make a lasagna for one person is lying or trying to sell you something... which means they're also lying. so take it!" you weren't taking no for an answer!

you even went as far as to donate to him one of your old onsies from when you were a baby (it wasn't like it was doing anything in storage). it was a pastel pink with an embroidered winnie the pooh. when simon saw you holding her after he put it on her, his heart leapt. he wanted to put all of his babies in the clothes you wore when you were a baby.

it wasn't that simon was finding another womb to occupy, but you were simply so good with ruby. when he had to drive out of the city and to base or had to sit on boring online debriefs. you were more than happy to watch ruby. you worked from home at a lackluster office job, you didn't mind having the little girl nearby! she brought a little excitement to the job when you identified objects in your office.

"this is a stapler! you use this to i guess.. staple pages together! s-t-a-p-l-e-r!" then smiled at the girl in the playpen.

the nail in the coffin for simon was when you were watching her for an afternoon and all of a sudden you were feverishly knocking on the door. in your arms was the little girl, she didn't look hurt. but you looked scared.

"i'm so sorry, simon..." you swallowed, "she said her first word. i know it said between ten to fourteen months, but! i didn't think it would be almost right at ten!"

"what did she say?" simon said as he beckoned you inside, a strong arm curled around your shoulders as you carried ruby.

you looked at him with a big frown before you said, "goddamnit... her first word was goddamnit." apparently you were cutting peppers for dinner and nicked your finger. you said the word and she parroted it!

simon knew you were going to be his bride. his missuses, the new mother to his baby girl and the future mother of all the other riley kids.

the electricity between you two aided in your eventual tumbling into bed. simon spread you out on the big queen mattress as let that large cock of his bully the deepest parts of your sex. simon made sure that ruby was safe with another (much older) neighbour so you wouldn't worry. (you were already becoming so much like a mother, it was honestly endearing!!).

simon managed to take you missionary, the mating press and finally ending with doggy style. your sweet moans only made him go harder. he needed to breed his future wife!! did he maybe forget to mention that he wasn't using protection, maybe. there was no evidence that he did or didn't. but when that little piece of plastic came back positive, he was there for you.

he knelt in front of you while you sat on the toilet. his large hand in your hair, "don't be sad, love. you're already a mother to ruby, why not give her a sibling? a little brother to bully." he then took your hands and kissed you on the cheek, "we'll be a family. we could even get married tomorrow if that makes you feel better?"

you'd be married at the courthouse within the week. simon in his military finest and you in a dress that you thrifted only days prior. you had even made you own veil and it turned out well. your bouquet was flowers stolen from the front of city hall. daisies, roses and a few dandelions.

he pulled you in for the kiss, a promise that you two would be together forever. and the two day honeymoon with just the two of you (and technically the baby you carried) was nothing short of romantic. you stayed in the city, but you two played tourist. you both didn't want to be too far away from ruby. after all she was so small.

soon you became the mother of two with a loving husband. ruby and her future brother that was sound asleep in your womb as you laid cuddled up next to simon. maybe his methods were a little unorthodox to bag himself a proper mama for his daughter. but you melted into the role so easily.

"my beautiful wife." he said with his voice tinged with utter devotion. he didn't want another woman to be his daughter's mother! only you, and he had the ring to prove it.

you were the perfect wife to him and the perfect mother to ruby. and you'd only get better with your son on the way. <3

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

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[palskippah]

Hi! I give you this Stobotnik fankid I made a while ago :'y

She's Sofia --or Ivania or some other name ending in 'ia'-- Robotnik (coolest last name)

It's a compilation and also there's some Stone for practice bc I have no idea how to draw him pipipi Eggman is easier bc it's just his Sonic Boom design (I love it)

Some stuff about this universe under the cut!

(Btw if there's incongruencies is bc I can't make up my mind about the facts whwhw)

-Robotnik and Stone are married, very much married. Cartoon villains in love, I love that for them.

-["MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE-"] Mixing up the movie things and the whatever's going on in the Sonic Boom, so Robotnik was gone for eight months and when he's back she's already born.

>Also the drawing is a reference to Icarly's "Whatcha got there?" "A smoothie" but she was clearly asking about the ostrich Spencer brought with him.

>Alternatively, Eggman's there and they go through the journey together yippiee. Choosing names, making evil parenting plans and whatever, being their idiot selves.

(After celebrating because they're good news actually) "I want a boy or a girl-" (Eggman) "Yeah me too." (Stone) "-and we should name them a single, worth of remembering name! Like... Eggette for a girl and Eggson for a boy." "I'm not letting you name them any of that, doctor..." "Okay, then how about Beyonce for a girl and-"

>They wouldn't have kids (?? maybe? I don't really know, I only know sonic boom and the movie :'U)- but she was probably the 1% the birth control warns you about. Also, Stobotnik got a very active seggsual life, and I'm imagining she came to be from a quickie over the desk, why not.

>Helpful diagram of Eggman + Stone kissing and then = baby. They were in work hours.

-In the one where he comes back and the baby's already there, Eggman does a terrible job as a father the few first months, but then he gets the hang of it and it's not so bad.

>He gets projectile vomited on and he's immediately asking to get an abortion (the baby's already born) (he didn't give birth to her), Stone says no anyways.

>"Surprisingly, I'm a good father" he thinks one day and it's because he's still very much an orphan here with no frame of comparation or example aside from researching the matter.

-In the one where they wait for her together, he does all the research necessary in all those months, absolutely refusing in doing an average job in that matter, he's the great Ivo Robotnik c'mon. He excels at anything and he'll be a great father (jk he's terrified of fucking up).

-The Stobotnik family is an evil but loving family, like the bears in Puss in Boots whwh criminal family✨

-For the funny of it, Sonic and Eggman got a sort of relationship like in Sonic Boom, so sometime maybe our favorite boy, Tails and Knuckles had to look after their child.

-Also since Knuckles broke Stone's and Robotnik's hands with their handshake, let's have him handle the baby with the most careful grip ever, just to demonstrate that he didn't have to grab their hands that hard aksdjask

-She's a big fan of Sonic and friends (Sonic the Hedgehog, not Sonic Wachowski, the second guy hadn't done even half the things she admires him for, but no one has the heart to tell her when she's a kid). Has a bunch of merch and all the comics of Sonic the Hedgehog.

>When she's a teenager she proudly uses her Sonic backpack in the same way Deadpool uses his Hello Kitty backpack.

-BTW Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are all brothers and Maddie and Tom's kids bc that's the best idea ever made.

-ALSO I'm definitely gonna draw that scene where Knuckles was about to put the baby in the blender and Sonic shouts THE CHILI DOG NOT THE BABY. Some day, you'll see pipipi.

-SAGE was created for various reasons, to be her sister (since she wouldn't stop asking for one but neither Stone nor Robotnik were willing in raising another human kid, thanks very much), to protect her, and also to answer the tedious "why?" questions that neither father had the patience for (A+ parenting right there). Maybe she was used for the original purpose too idk (I don't know that sonic game where she debuts).

>The child's delighted about having a sister, then she grows up and SAGE doesn't, so she has a little sister.

>METAL SONIC TOO MAYBE? Perfect lil american family, the two happily married parents and their three kids (one human girl, an IA and a robot clone of their alien enemy).

-On her early months she was called Pebble, because she really was a mini Stone, Robotnik went along with it (bc he also looked at her and only saw his husband whw) until she was a little older and they started calling her by her name.

>Alternatively, since Eggman was gone, Stone waited for him to return in hopes of choosing together a name for their child, and Pebble worked as a placeholder since she was just a bebi.

>Alternatively alternatively, Eggman came up with the nickname. ROCK-ONNAISSANCE 🗣️ also yeah I know he was going crazy from the mushroom stuff, but he's not above making silly puns, he's a dad now and also he's naturally silly.

(NGL I really gotta make up my mind about how it all happened ajsdkad)

-She's a spoiled kid and also a little menace, unintentionally evil, she can't help it.

>Good-hearted too sometimes, she loves Sage and does her best to protect her back (it's not necessary but it's appreciated anyways).

-Robotnik calls himself 'daddy' way too much in the live-action movies to ignore it, so he's daddy and Stone's dad (dada when she was younger).

>"These are my daddies!" (points to what's clearly two villains -but also good fathers-)

-She has Robotnik's eyes but as big as Stone's. They're the lethal-est sad puppy eyes ever (they work wonders on both parents and other people) (both men got beautiful dark brown eyes with visible eyelashes fight me).

>Look at Eggman's silly eyelashes:

>Also, you know that picture of Lee Majdoub with the beautiful everything? I think he was wearing eyeliner so my Stone wears eyeliner too in contrast to Eggman's dark circles under his eyes JDJS😭

-She's the five-year-old that made Sonic fear them because 'they can be so cruel when they sense weakness' (she was brutally honest as any young kid is).

-Stone and Robotnik got Gomez and Morticia Addams kinda parenting. They see their child beating up someone and they're like:

"What did we do wrong?" (Stone while shaking his head in disappointment) "I know... she lacks resourcefulness." (Eggman) "Exactly, there's her baseball bat right there, why doesn't she use it?"

-Remember that Shadow said in a game that he wouldn't mind taking a candy from a baby? (fandub I think but still) This comes in handy when neither Tails, Sonic or Knuckles want to upset the kid (so Shadow does it instead).

-She plays sports too because she got too much energy. In each of them she loses her patience. She grabs the football and hauls it at the nearest team member, she throws her baseball bat to the ground and starts beating up whoever threw the ball that she missed, she stomps in frustration if she loses, she's great at dodgeball (sends her classmates to the infirmary).

-Throws tantrums and stuff and overall's an annoying kid if she's upset. Eggman's like UGH WHY'S SHE LIKE THIS?? and Stone's like Because of you, doctor (terrible temperament runs in the family and also Robotnik just spoiled her too much).

-I'm kinda dressing her up in the clothes that existed in my mind that supposedly Eggman wore (the weird dress-like jacket with the big zipper in the middle). Under her jacket there's a dress in the same pattern as the original Eggman's clothes, also she wears a baby onesie like that too.

-When she's older she's definitely proud of her fathers, but she doesn't appreciate the rumors that she's prone to go power-crazy like Robotnik did. Especially because it may be true, but what do they know.

-For the irony, she can't stand drinking coffee, but loves the smell of it because it reminds her of home (omg).

-THEY HAVE A PET CAT like I read in some fics and her name is Robot and she's a lil shit and also grumpy like Robotnik.

>Maybe she brings her alive mice to experiment on all sort of stuff (like Pávlov and his dogs and the guy Skinner with his mice and cats (??))

-She gets to hang out with Sonic and friends under the condition of annoying him as much as possible. So, she complies. (She loves Sonic the Hedgehog, but she loves making her fathers happy more).

-Very smart kid but not to the level of Tails or Robotnik at that age, she's just got very good memory and learning skills and knows a lot of stuff ever since she was a little kid. More like a Matilda-kinda intelligence.

-She's a scientist when she grows up too but the kind that makes evil potions and serums and stuff aksjdk probably (chemistry things? biochem idk). She can make silly little robots for the fun of it but it's not her passion, unlike Robotnik and Stone's. PROBABLY. I'm still deciding.

-BTW LOOK (it says 'carefully crafted ploy to distract space porcupines')

>While Eggman's there with the baby and Sonic in front of him going AWWW BABY BOO and making her laugh, Stone is sneaking up on him holding a chair above his head to knock him out.

THAT'S IT THANKS FOR READING ✨✨

[fastandcarlos]

When He Holds Your Baby For The First Time : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen 

It was the moment that Max had been waiting for ever since you told him that you were pregnant, and as it arrived, he could barely keep his emotions in check. It was very rare for you to see Max teary eyed, but as he glanced down at your son in his arms, you couldn’t help but reach out and wipe away his tears as he lost all composure and felt the tears begin to fall. He was completely overwhelmed, for all the adrenaline that racing gave him, this had his heart racing faster than it ever had done before. 

» Lando Norris 

He was a nervous wreck when Lando took a hold of your daughter for the first time, his palms were sweaty and his heart was beating fast. She was so much smaller than he imagined, fragile and delicate, almost too scary to take a hold of and be safe with. Lando’s worried eyes looked to you for help as he took his first hold, desperately searching for reassurance that he was doing the right thing with her. You knew with time his confidence would grow, but in that moment, you’d never seen Lando so scared of messing up in your life. 

» Charles LeClerc 

It was the proudest moment of his life when Charles held your son for the first time, finding it surprisingly overwhelming. It was the quietest Charles had been since you went into labour, which you thought nothing of, too tired to really focus on anything, until you heard sniffing from beside you. Charles lost control as his eyes looked down in awe at who stared back at him, finding himself thinking about all the moments he wished his own father could have been a part of, but knowing that his son was about to be treated like royalty by his two brothers especially. 

» George Russell 

The only thing George could do as he held your son for the first time was smile, a smile that was wider than you had ever seen on him before. He didn’t quite know what to say, or do, but all he knew was that having your son safely arrive and be able to have that first cuddle made him the happiest man in the world. You knew it was a smile that would be sticking around for a long time, it would take something pretty huge to wipe the smile off of George’s face now that your baby was with the two of you. 

» Oscar Piastri 

It felt as if he was in some sort of dream when Oscar took his first hold of your daughter, feeling as if someone needed to pinch him to make sure that it was really true. He was frozen to the spot for a while as he let it sink in what was happening, but as soon as reality hit him, his smile turned up. Although Oscar had one eye on your daughter, he also had a very close one on you too, unable to ignore you beside him as he kept checking to make sure that you were alright. 

» Carlos Sainz 

He loved holding your son so much, Carlos didn’t really want to let him go. From the moment your son landed in his arms Carlos felt a protective feeling that he’d never felt before. When the midwives asked if they could take your son to get him cleaned up a little bit more, it took a bit of persuasion from you for Carlos to let him go. As soon as he went Carlos’ eyes were following, making sure that they didn’t take him too far away so that Carlos could keep a close eye on things to make sure that he was safe. 

» Daniel Ricciardo 

He was a bundle of excited energy when Daniel got to hold your daughter for the first time, he’d been hyping it up for so long he couldn’t quite believe the moment was here. You were the one who was a little worried but Daniel couldn’t wait, pestering to hold her as soon as possible whilst the midwives sorted her out and you caught your breath. As expected, he was a natural as soon as he had a hold of her, assuring you not to worry as he walked around the suite bouncing her around in his arms, talking away to her too. 

» Lewis Hamilton 

His heart had never felt fuller than the moment your child was placed into Lewis’ arms for the first time. It was a moment that he had dreamt of for so long, but nothing could have prepared him for how special of a moment it actually was. It felt as if it was only him and her in the world, the way her big eyes looked up at him had Lewis smiling wide. Life had always been pretty special for him but he knew that it had just been made all the more sweeter by the little one that he held. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[anonymous-existences]

DCxDP Prompt 15 :

Danny/Wes idea, Demon Sibs Combined into it.

Short prompt and vague stuff. If I had to motivation I'll do some continuation to it but picture this.

DanyalDanny knows he's adopted, always had known especially since he was adopted as the Fenton's were out and about looking for ghosts back when he was merely 6, they found him all battered and bloodied up and immediately took him in as their own, Jazz was very pleased with a new little brother and she became her reason to stay and purpose to protect.

The Fentons aren't the best but they loved Danny, Danny could say the same as he was shocked to see their reactions when he first called them 'Mom' and 'Dad'. They burst into tears and pulled Danny into a love filled bear hug, Danny could say it was the most love he has ever felt.

But Danny, he would never talk about his past, no, no, he claimed amnesia. He felt subtle guilt when he lied about it but now it felt insignificant to worry about, after becoming a Halfa due to the portal accident, he found himself in the middle of simping A-listers and a conspiracy theorist who immediately clocked him upon sight(how did he do that??).

Wes Weston always had the affinity of finding out someone's identity behind a mask, he always voiced out these thoughts knowing no one would believe him but at times it can still get pretty annoying. Danny Fenton caught his eye, he never paid attention to the boy but he kept a secret tab on him, the way he walked felt stuff and subtly regal, the way he talked had a hidden southeast accent(?) that Wes couldn't pinpoint where came from.

Considering the Fact that Danny was adopted... Completely out of nowhere, the Fenton's picked up a boy from somewhere in the world and adopted him without question but Wes doesn't think that's suspicious since the Fentons ARE the Fentons after all.

What kept his tabs, and everything else come to life is when Phantom appeared, Kyle Weston, his brother refused to help and exempted himself from Wes's spiraling Theories piling up.

Wes immediately clocked Phantom as Danny, It's too obvious for Christ's sake, Fenton? PHANTOM? It was so original and unoriginal at the same time, Wes still forced his brother to listen and at some point Wes noticed Dash stopped bullying Danny after having Dash listen through Wes's Theoretical Rant.

Dash and Kyle want nothing to do with Danny, they don't have him, they just suspect Wes is secretly gay and his love language is comparing his crush to the awesome town vigilante ghost.

Everything is as normal as everyday until the GIW found out about Danny's identity, The Fenton Parents and Jazz weren't there when they took Danny away for 'Examination'. So Wes did what any normal person would do, pull out the exact blueprint and hidden passageway of The GIW Facility Base and Bust Danny out of there without getting the already wounded and partially open boy even more injured and in pain.

The Fenton parents did everything they could do to hide Danny as soon as they got home after Wes had contacted them somehow, they love their baby boy so much, He's their Danny, their Daniel, their Phantom.

Wes dragged Kyle into the mess, Not that Kyle had any options and thus. With the help of Jazz who was in Gotham for college, The Fenton Parents stayed behind to keep the GIW in Amity, And Wes along with his Begrudgingly Dragged Along Older Brother Kyle, Is heading to Gotham.

Did Danny anticipate that Wes and Kyle both have truth altering possibly also Reality Warping curse that they bend to their will, but then again sometimes they're too stupid and too human to use these curses to their advantage.

They arrived in Gotham and at first everything was Normal, Danny became the Handyman of their free and he'd fix anything for food and any of the sort. Especially candies for children who wanted their toys fixed, Wes was the weird quiet one who was deemed tough on the outside, soft on the inside because of how oddly kind he still was despite his first impressions.

Kyle was the chill one who was denser than rock in most occasions and jazz was the oldest one who was raising them(along with Kyle) as well as pursuing psychology.

Now here comes more of the DC part :

Wes starts to theorize about the bats, same old same old, Danny listens to them intently as Wes makes pretty good points about the identities(Except Bruce Wayne as Batman, cuz that guys a Total Himbo Billionare.)

Danny and Robin meet by pure coincidence. Danny recognizes him immediately, Damian impulsively taking off his mask and charging at Danny, Both knew they were not Clones of each other and Danny comes home with an unmasked Robin and not any of them feels that this is something out of place.

Going as far as serving Damian a plate of food and Danny introducing the Weston Siblings and Jazz. Jazz immediately mentally adopting Damian because he's her baby brother Twin thus he's just another little chick of hers.

For a while Robin takes time to have dinner on their house, Alfred obviously instantly notices but doesn't mention it Infront of others but merely tells Damian to stay safe and eat well.

The Batfam slowly notice the change of demeanor, Damian slowly getting less aggresive and acting softer and perhaps a tad bit too innocent like for their comfort, they finally follow him to the place he frequents and sneaks off to every night and they see him take off his mask and hug someone who's the exact replica of him, just blue eyes.

They see him drop his guard and become comfortable by their small dining table that fits 5 perfectly. If it weren't for his current costume at the time then he would have looked like a normal civilian boy.

Shenanigans Ensue. You guys can take it from here ✨