#wailing sobbing i love him so much he was just a kid he was always a kid who wanted to go home

[queenangst]

percy didnt want to be a half blood. he never wanted to be a hero. he goes home every summer. he craves normalcy. he asked for blue coke. he plays basketball and likes skateboarding. he made the empire state building light up blue for his mom. he turned down immortality because he wanted to live a normal life. percy has always, always wanted to stay tethered to the normal, mortal world. he didn't look back.

[satoruni]

☆ the babysitter ☆ dilf!toji f. x reader

WARNINGS: f!reader, age gap, rough sex, unprotected sex, mating press, daddy kink, breeding kink

you had just come back to visit home after you completed one semester of college. college was expensive, especially with the tuition costs, accommodation charges, groceries, etc. also you did not like to burden your parents with your expenses so you sought out for a job in the holidays.

your father recommended a babysitting job for one of his acquaintances, someone named fushiguro. you jump at the opportunity since you had a great time bonding with kids. you shyly wait outside the door after ringing the doorbell once. the one who opens the door had an irritated look on his face and seemed to be sleep deprived. you could also hear the wailing of a baby in the background. much to your embarrassment, you found yourself blushing at the tall and muscular physique of the older man. your father did not mention that he was so handsome.

"what?" he said with a voice laced with annoyance and irritation.

"oh-um, mr fushiguro, i just came to enquire about the babysitting job" you squeaked out, feeling intimidated by the scary man.

toji had welcomed you in after this and you met his son, baby megumi who had promptly stopped crying when he was placed in your gentle arms. you were relieved inside, happy to know that the baby had bonded with you so quick.

toji had felt grateful for everything you did, truly. you were a sweet girl who looked after megumi well like he was your own and had even no problems staying in when his work ran late. you had always greeted him home with that adorable smile of yours, balancing megumi on your hip.

he wished he was ashamed to say this because he really wasn't, but he wanted you. you were so sweet, pliant and caring. you were someone he wanted for himself. coming home after every gruelling day of work to see your illuminating smile and holding his son was his dream. megumi also loved you, seeing you as his mother.

toji's desires got the best of him one day when he cornered you in the living room after you put down megumi for sleep. you fidgeted shyly under his intense gaze, making him even more aroused at your blushing face.

he then crashed his lips onto your warm and plump ones, causing you to moan. he shoved his tongue in your mouth and picked you up easily. you had started to squeak in embarrassment at getting picked up and taken to his room where you were thrown on the bed, unceremoniously.

the rest was a blur when he stripped you and him until you both were naked. you blushed at his scarred chest and toned and lean body. toji looked at your gorgeous body in awe while spreading your legs, revealing your pretty pussy to him while you whimpered shyly. from then, toji lost all composure.

he had you with your legs in the air, while thrusting into your mercilessly. you cry and sob in a sinful mixture of pleasure and pain, as he pounds deep into you, hitting all your sweet spots. toji had one rough hand gripped tightly to your waist, holding you down to your bed to prevent your body from jolting from every harsh thrust.

toji had an immense sexual appetite, already built up from not having sex for so long and he was so experienced too, making you stutter and blabber like a fool. you held onto his muscular arms for dear life while he had his fill.

"d-daddy, its too much!" you hiccup out, trying to adjust to his large size and animalistic pace. toji seemed to like you calling him daddy a lot, as indicated by him going even more deeper and faster into you.

"you can take it" he hissed in your ear, squeezing your tits. he kisses your swollen lips, snuffling the cry that threatened to come. "my good girl" he whispered, making your heart skip a beat at the praise. you felt in come in you, most of it leaking out your quivering pussy.

toji didn't like to see you waste his cum like that, giving you a harsh slap on the side of your thigh, making you squeal. he fucks his cum back into your pussy, making sure it went in deep.

"i'm gonna put a baby in you" he says to you, every syllable make your belly feel warm. "you'd look so beautiful with my kid in your belly"

"daddy!" you squealed, feeling embarrassed and strangely aroused, already imagining yourself as his young, pretty wife.

your arrangement after this slightly changed. after feeding megumi and putting him to bed, toji would come home from work. you would be sitting on his large bed, sitting obediently and naked.

toji would take out all his frustrations from work out on your body and you would be lying under him, pliantly and happy to ease his worries. he would fuck you without abandon every night with would result in you leaving his house with a blissed-out smile. your parents were none the wiser, and were oblivious to the new bruises and hickeys on your body whenever you returned from the fushiguros.

[gaywarcriminals]

Remember that time Xiao Jiu wanted to beat a kid with a brick?

The scene where Shen Jiu threatens Shi Wu is possibly my favorite scene in the whole novel because it tells us so much about qijiu's dynamic, both past and future, and namely, that they're both little freaks (affectionate) who show love in weird ways. I think it particularly exemplifies several of Yue Qingyuan's traits that often go overlooked!

I am just going in order. All excerpts are from the Seven Seas official translation, Volume 4, Chapter 24: Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Jiu fights for resources

“Shen Jiu, don’t think you can just throw your weight around. You don’t own this street. What gives you the right to tell us we can’t stay?!” This main street was wide and even, and many people came and went upon it. If one wanted to beg, it was the best and prime location. Some of the passersby watched this group of children fight, but even more hurried on their way. And this new brat had the gall to challenge him. Shen Jiu looked down and around, preparing to find a brick with which to teach him a lesson, when a tall youth happened to walk over. He saw Shen Jiu rolling up his sleeves, head lowered, and hastily went to stop him. “Xiao-Jiu, let’s go somewhere else.” [...] With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot!

From this we know that Shen Jiu, without fail, tries to claim or fight for the best begging spots in every city. This isn't fully textually supported, but add to that the later section that mentions how Shen Jiu was far better at begging than Yue Qi and I think that, on some level, SJ feels responsible for both his and Yue Qi's wellbeing. Chasing off the other children is not just a selfish act, but also a protective one.

According to the orders given to them, Yue Qi should have wailed and wept, but no matter what, he never could manage to cry. Therefore, this task had instead fallen to Shen Jiu, even though he was faking an illness that supposedly left him too feeble to weep. But he was small and his face wasn’t too unsightly to look at, so whenever he sobbed and bawled, the passersby found him pitiful and generously opened their wallets. It would have been no exaggeration to call him a money tree.

Xiao Jiu fancies himself the breadwinner lol.

How Yue Qi reacts to accusations against Shen Jiu

That first youth took the opportunity to tattle. “Qi-ge, he’s bullying me.” “That wasn’t bullying, Shiwu,” said Yue Qi. “Xiao-Jiu was just joking around.” “Who’s joking?” said Shen Jiu. “I’m telling him to get lost. This is my territory. I’ll kill anyone who tries to steal it.”

I've anyways found this passage so telling of their eventual adult relationship! First of all, Yue Qi implicitly takes Shen Jiu's side, and immediately defends him. This seems to be taken for granted by all characters, so we can assume this is their standard dyanmic. Yue Qi, notably, does not deny that Shen Jiu was threatening Shiwu. In this situation where SJ is actively gearing up for a fight, it would be a very poor defense, and that's probably true of most messes Xiao Jiu got himself into! 

Most of Yue Qi's actions in the scene are attempts to de-escalate. This is just my theory, but I think in Yue Qi's mind, who's at fault is much less important than making sure no one gets in trouble with a higher authority. Even if he knows SJ could win the fight, it would only gain SJ more animosity, and possibly the attention of someone who would be a real danger.

I think it's evident how Yue Qi's ethos of keeping their heads down and not causing trouble or drawing too much attention would feed into how he handled Shen Qingqiu's less commendable behavior as an adult and complaints against Shen Qingqiu.

In the brothel scene later in the extras, we can see that he's conscious of their image. 

Yue Qingyuan yanked Shen Qingqiu off the bed. He was in a rare fit of anger. “Why are you like this?” “Why am I like what?” asked Shen Qingqiu. “Two of Cang Qiong Mountain’s head disciples getting into a huge brawl inside a brothel—does that sound good to you?”

Imo, now entrenched in the politics of the cultivation world, YQY sees protecting SQQ's image/reputation as an important part of protecting SQQ. Yue Qi spent his childhood managing Xiao Jiu, and as an adult, he's not able to so easily break the habit, not matter how SQQ scorns him

Shen Jiu does not get upset by attacks on his character, only from Shiwu calling Yue Qi "Qi-ge"

With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot! Everyone’s been sick of you for ages! You think you’re all that? That everyone’s afraid of you?” “Shiwu,” Yue Qi scolded. Amidst the struggle, Shen Jiu kicked Yue Qi in the shin. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you one. Only losers would blame their spot for their incompetence. You bastard—who’s your Qi-ge? I dare you to say that again!”

Now granted these aren't the most cutting insults, but it's SO interesting to me that Shen Jiu doesn't react to the insults directly. To me, this is a little bit of evidence that, even at this age, Shen Jiu had already decided he was a bad guy, and stopped caring about what others thought of him. The glaring exception to that was, ofc, Yue Qi. I think part of the reason that SJ reactions to the "Qi-ge" specifically, is that Shiwu just said that no one likes Shen Jiu, and then tried to align himself with Yue Qi. I think to SJ, he sees a real threat in the idea of someone else stealing Yue Qi, the one person who likes SJ. SJ is so possessive of Yue Qi not just because he's Qi-ge, but also because, without him, Shen Jiu would have nothing and no one.

Yue Qi tries to deescalate by coaxing/appeasing Shen Jiu

“You’re the bastard! I bet you’ll get sold off soon and end up a pimp!” Yue Qi didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “Where did you learn that kind of nonsense language?!” Then he dragged Shen Jiu off to the side of the road while coaxing him. “All right, you’re the most competent one here. Even if you didn’t pick and choose your spot, you’d be the best. So let’s change streets.” Shen Jiu stepped on his foot. “Get off me! Like I’m scared! Come on, fight me! Wanna gang up on me? Go ahead!” Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.” “What shitty ‘fun’?” Shen Jiu asked savagely. “The most fun I’ll have is if they’re all dead.” Yue Qi looked at him helplessly and shook his head.

Yue Qi only barely scolds Shen Jiu, even when Shen Jiu in the wrong (tried to steal Shiwu's spot and then almost beat up Shiwu). Instead, his reaction is to distract, coax, bribe, and praise him until SJ looses interest in whatever trouble he was going to cause. Yue Qi is so biased, and he spoils him 😂. Even when Yue Qi has so little he can give, he managed to spoil Shen Jiu by giving him so much favor, attention, and affection. 

I think this is something that comes naturally to Yue Qi to the point that he can't help himself from doing the same thing as an adult, even when SJ scorns him. It's just the correct response to seeing a Xiao Jiu! He's the "why do we have hands" meme fr 

Yue Qi smiles imagining Shen Jiu beating up the other kids

Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.”

I don't have much to say about this, I just want to remind everyone Yue Qi finds SJ's violent, feral tendencies adorable. This man has no desire to train his cat, and he will insist it's friendly even as it gnaws on his arm.

In Conclusion?

This single scene shows us the trajectory of qijiu's relationship going forward, the strengths of their relationships that became pitfalls. It allows to imagine what they could have become if not torn apart by a world set to doom them.

[interloved]

modern!anakin skywalker as your professor + age gap

lowkey daddy professor!anakin x bimbo!reader

description box; anakin is your professor and your boyfriend. that blurs the lines between his job and you being his student sometimes — but he can’t ever deny his sweet girl a request, and this time you want him to give his honest opinion on the essay you’ve written for an assignment he gave his students, including you.

warnings; nsfw warning, blow job, MINOR BLOGS DNI!!, age gap, smut under the cut!

HE’S TAKING TOO LONG to read it. he’s rereading the same lines, again and again, and he’s frowning.

“you don’t like it.”

you hate the way your quivers, like you’re weak and… and dependant. oh, but you are. you depend on his every word and action like he’s your lifeline.

“no — no, sweetheart, i do, it’s just…” and then, anakin sighs and sets aside his glasses, looking into your eyes directly with his startlingly piercing, frost-coloured eyes.

he’s struggling to find words that won’t bruise your ego too badly. anakin never lies to you, but he can’t find it in him to give you a brutally honest review.

anakin sits on the couch as you pace nervously in front of him, the table in front of him filled with documents, his laptop and… that damned essay.

“it’s just what?” you inquire, and your voice is already breaking, “you hate my essay! i can hear it!”

and then, all the dams break; you’re turning away from him and all the tears start flooding and the overthinking starts to claw its way into your soul.

“you’re… you’re gonna give me an F! you’re going to fail me, i’m going to fail this class — you, you hate my essay…” you’re falling into complete despair.

anakin winces, this is exactly the reaction he had wanted to prevent.

“oh, c’mere, sweet girl, i don’t hate your essay. it’s just a little, er… childish wording, but that’s nothing to worry about — ‘m not gonna fail you, all right?”

you sniffle, and for a moment, your tears stop. “y-you’re not?”

anakin winces again — he may be your boyfriend and he may love you, but he’s also your professor and has to keep a certain neutrality towards the work you offer to him as his student. but he can’t deny it, being so close to you, it’s been blurring the lines of professionalism. you’re such a sweet, little thing — so pretty and so young, so soft and so kind-hearted. he couldn’t ever say no to any of your requests.

and maybe you’ve learned to use that against him somehow. he’s given you way too many A’s and B’s that you did not deserve because as much as he loves you as a person, you are a bad writer. you’re not hopeless; there is definitely a good basic idea and core in every one of your essays, just the execution… somehow fails to be amazing every time. and he’s not exaggerating.

“yeah… yeah, i’ll give you a C, m’kay, kid? it’s not a bad essay, pretty, it just needs a little polishing.” he comforts you, caging your, in comparison to him, small frame in his warm, trained arms.

but this time, you frown. “a C? you… you’ve never given me a C before.”

it’s always been A’s and B’s.

anakin struggles to find the right words again, “well, this time your performance was a tiny bit… lacking… but just a little, darling, no need to cry — aw, sweetheart, don’t cry…”

“l-l-lacking? i’m… lacking?” you wail as you push away his arms and pace to the kitchen, this time sobbing violently.

when he reaches you, your eyes are all puffy and red, and he panics.

“no, you’re not lacking!” he protests, think, anakin, think, “i’ll… i’ll give you an A, m’kay? so stop crying, please, you’re too pretty to be crying like that over a grade.”

your sobbing stops slowly, and a relieved smile makes its way onto your lips. “r-really? thank you so much, ani! love you so much!”

you squeal and jump into his arms, and it’s like the rainbows have started showing after the storm. anakin laughs at your excitement but mentally slaps himself — he’d sworn himself he wouldn’t give you good grades without you earning them anymore, but it appears he really just can’t say no to his little darling.

“i’ll make it up to you, i promise!” you swear to him, covering his handsome face with kisses, and he grins cheekily.

“oh really? how’re you gonna do that, little lady?” he chuckles good-naturedly.

and you think, you think real hard. and you jump down, out of his embrace, and you thank him in the only way you know.

you lead him to the couch and settle between his legs, and you unbuckle his belt.

“oh, like that? i didn’t mean that—” anakin stops whatever he was going to say when you take him whole. whole.

a choked, throaty moan escapes his lips and almost automatically, his big hands reach for your hand; his hand almost covers the whole back of your head, and his fingers are getting tangled in your soft hair, and he bucks up into your soft lips.

“fuck,” he groans and he closes his eyes, and he looks so breathtaking, so handsome, like a greek god, “god, what did i do to deserve you… such a beautiful, obedient girl… must’ve saved a country in my past life to deserve you.”

he feels your lips curling up at his praise and he looks down, and it’s a sight to behold. big, innocent doe eyes looking up at him like he’s a god you’re worshipping, nothing but pure admiration and love shining in those eyes.

“my god, you’re so adorable,” he praises you, eyes closed and brows furrowed so prettily, moaning when you begin to deepthroat him, your pretty head going up and down, up and down, “so, so, so pretty…”

and then, his chiselled abs tenses, his thighs quiver slightly, and you know he’s close.

“c’mon,” he whispers, “swallow.”

and you obey, like his good little girl.

if he’s getting thanked this dedicatedly by a student, surely he can make exceptions from time to time.

he doesn’t get paid enough anyway.

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [5]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, sad and vulnerable Jake, angsty, happy reader?

Word count: 3,2k

previous chapter

next chapter

"Daddy, will you be my daddy forever?", you babbled thoughtlessly as your cheek is pressed against his shoulder, looking up at him from your position. The two of you lay in his bed as you couldn't sleep without him. A chuckle left his lips, making his chest vibrate against your skin. You giggled at the feeling and wrapped your arms a little tighter around his head. His hand was on your back, rubbing it reassuringly making you feel sleepy. He playfully rubs his cheek against yours, knowing his stubbles will tickle you. Just like he expected, the loudest giggles left your lips at the feeling. "As long as you want me to. And even if you don't want me as your daddy anymore, I will always be." You frowned at that response, pulling away from him as you sit on his chest, putting your hands on both of his cheeks as you squeezed them together, "You'll be my daddy forever!!"

"Don't touch me, Sully!!" You couldn't help but scream and wail at the sight of him, now that he finally realized who you were to him. It was like all the emotions you tried to keep in decided to escape all that once, making you feel so overwhelmed to the point you started sobbing out of frustration. Jake got closer to you, now on his knees as he slid closer to you with a desperate expression written on his face. Even on his knees, he was taller than you, his figure looming over you while he moved closer to your panicked self. The sight of you frantically trying to get away from him made his eyes tear up, "my baby please-" he got closer to you to attempt to comfort you, but you screamed right in his face as he tried to, "I'M NOT YOUR BABY." You hugged yourself as you leaned against the wall, loud sobs leaving your lips in an attempt to calm down. Yet it doesn't seem to work. You couldn't stop your sobs, when you did they only got worse. "I need you to listen to me, please," Jake finally sat in front of you. He really wanted to have you in his arms, hugging you tightly against his chest, but he knew that if he did that, talking to you would only be harder as you would be focusing on pushing him away. So he sat there, waiting patiently as he watched you with a loving glance. The last time he saw you, you were a tiny and adorable girl on his lap. Now you were a warrior and on top of that one of the best of your class. He felt so much pride for what you had become and wished he could have watched you grow up. Hence this was the time to redeem himself, be a better dad for you, be there for you, and make up for all the lost time. For you, he would wait for ages if that meant for you to forgive him. "I don't want to see you, go away!" You balled your fists as you punched his chest, a huff leaving Jake's lips as you did so. Your punches were genuine as his chest actually started burning from the painful punches you left him. But he let you, he let you take your emotions out on him. Because even though it hurt, the way he hurt you for leaving most likely left an even bigger scar. "Why won't you go away?!" "Because I won't leave you alone again. Let's talk, I need to talk to you."

Talk? He wanted to talk? He wanted to talk after years of leaving your side?

You actually laughed at how stupid he sounded, eyes wide open as an unreadable expression was written on your face. Dry tears stained your cheeks and your hair was a mess because of your frantic movements. Your eyes were expressionless, yet at the same time, he could read how you felt. "There is nothing to talk about," you pushed your sharp nail into his chest, "between us. You left me, abandoned me. DO YOU KNOW HOW I FELT?!" He wanted to protest, beg you to listen. Hell, he would even submit in front of his entire clan if that meant that you would listen to him. He finally wrapped his arms around you, a sob leaving his lips as he felt your warmth. "I am so sorry for leaving you, I just wanted the best for us, for you. I wanted to make you happy, but I failed in doing so. I should have talked to you instead of leaving you so suddenly. I should have given you a choice as well. I love you, I'm so sorry." Jake was ranting desperately at this point. He probably didn't make any sense, but he still had to try with anything he could. Your eyes widen at the gesture, the feeling of his warmth so familiar yet so unknown. You knew you had to pull away, so you bathed in his warmth one more time before putting all your strength in your chest. You leaned forward and put your hands on his chest, gathering all your strength in your arms to push him off you in one go. The push actually knocked Jake out of his balance, and he fell on his back. He watched you with a tear-stained expression, shaking his head as he couldn't form a single word. You rushed to the door with your back faced towards him, grabbing your mask to pull it over your face. You then turn your head to the side, looking at him with a look that could kill. The look of a warrior with a job. "You are dead to me, Jake Sully. We are nothing but strangers. Treat me as your acquaintance, for we are nothing more than that." And you left. The same way he did all those years ago. For Jake, those words were the final straw. He was seated on his knees as his elbows were on the cold floor, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as loud sobs left his lips. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." He repeated the words a million times, hoping they would reach you as he crumbled apart. No strength left to continue as the pain and guilt succumbed to his entire mind, body, and soul. Both Max and Norm emerged from the back of the facility, as well as the other scientists who heard the commotion. They watched how Jake Sully crumbled apart like a broken wall after an earthquake. Both knew he deserved the harsh reality of his actions, yet they couldn't help but feel pity as they watched their friend in his most vulnerable state.

You walked through the Pandorean forests to clear your mind, your eyes bloodshot red from the amount of crying you did. You sniffed inside your mask as your hands were balled into fists. You were so angry. Angry at him for leaving, angry at yourself for acting this way, angry at the world for taking him away from you. You didn't know how far you walked, but for now you could care less. You needed some quiet, alone time. Away from all the conflicts and responsibilities. Mindlessly walking through the forest, you arrived at this beautiful scenery: a river running through the forest, decorated with blooming flowers and logs to sit on. The sight was beautiful, something you truly missed having on planet earth. Mother nature, without any form of buildings or technology that ruined the place. You took a seat on one of the logs, adjusting yourself as you put your feet cross-legged. You closed your eyes as you listened to your surroundings: the running river, your steady breathing. Your lips are pursed when you let the tears escape. You didn't try to stop them anymore, it would only hurt more if you did so. You let them silently roll down your cheeks as you bathed in the sun. As you were focused on your hearing, you heard something different in the order. Leaves rustling through the wind. Your eyebrows raise as you stopped your sobs, keeping quiet to await the same sound. Yet it never came while the wind was still blowing. You steadily move your hand towards your hip to take your hunter's knife out of the holder. In one swift move, you turn your body around, leaning one knee on the log as your other leg was on the mossy ground, knife in front of you in a defensive position while the other hand was sheathed on the handle of your katana. You raised your eyebrows when you came face to face with four Na'vi kids, one of them being Neteyam Sully. Your knife was directly pointing against the Na'vi walking in front of the group, who had his arms in the air in defense. "Mawey, mawey." Neteyam stepped closer to you as he put his hand on your arm, lowering the knife. You sighed in relief at the sighting of a familiar face. If it was a Palulukan you would have accepted defeat. "What are you doing here?" He asked you again, stepping in front of the three other Na'vi as he took a seat next to you. "I'm just trying to clear my head, you know." You sat back on the log comfortably as you closed your eyes yet again.

"Are you our sister?"

"Lo'ak!!"

Your eyes widen at the question, watching the four kids as they all had different expressions written on their faces. "What? That's why we came looking for her right? Don't act like you all didn't come with me for that." The Na'vi named Lo'ak said as a matter of fact, taking a seat on the mossy ground as he watched you with curiosity. "I mean I came because adventure! Hii I'm Tuk!" This little adorable girl came up to you and you couldn't help but boom at her, "Hii Tuk I'm (Y/N), aren't you a pretty girl?" Tuk flushed as a response, "thank you!! This is my sister Kiri and my brother Lo'ak. You already know Neteyam!" You smiled at her innocence, seeing yourself in her as she started rambling about whatever. Neteyam pulled Tuk closer to him as he put her on his lap, still weary being in the presence of a human, being a momma's boy and all. Kiri took a seat next to Lo'ak who was still staring at you, "You still didn't answer my question." He earned a slap from Kiri as a response, her eyes rolling before she turned to look at you with a reassuring smile, "I'm so sorry about him. You don't have to tell you if you don't want to." You watched the four siblings, your four siblings, with a pursed smile. They deserved to know the truth, but were you the one to tell them? "We already know, if you are our father's adopted daughter, about your childhood." Your eyebrows raised in surprise at Neteyam's words, "did he tell you?" This time Lo'ak was the one to respond, "we may have overheard dad talking to mom about it, about you." That meant he talked about your parents as well. You didn't know how to feel about this situation. Should you tell them? They didn't deserve to not know about their sibling if they wanted to see you as one. They deserved the truth as you both had the same father. So you replied, "yes, yes I am. I'm (Y/N) (L/N) Sully, adopted by Jake Sully at birth."

Their eyes widen in surprise. Tuk tried to jump up from excitement, but Neteyam held her tightly against his chest, "so you're my older sister?" His eyes twinkled, even though he is trying to hide the fact that he was feeling kind of happy about having an older sister, not needing to share the responsibilities alone. If you wanted to acknowledge them as your siblings that is. You smiled at the way his ears perked up and nodded your head, "do you need some younger brother babying now that you know you aren't the oldest anymore?" You said it in a teasing tone, but you actually meant most of it. As the older sibling, he must have a lot of responsibilities with the way he is told to call his own dad 'sir'. Neteyam's cheeks flush as he let out an annoyed huff, still shielding you from Tuk if you were to try anything funny. "This is actually so cool! We have a human sister!" Lo'ak exclaimed and moved a little closer to you, "and we have the same alien hands!" You chuckled a bit at his silly behavior, he must be the odd one out of the family. "What is earth like?" Kiri asked suddenly, since her biological mother is a human and her adopted father used to be one as well. "Yes what's it like! Dad never speaks to his life on earth.. well we know now why but- ow!!" Kiri hissed at her younger brother, pinching him in the arm. Your eyes faltered at the mention of your dad and Neteyam seemed to notice this. He wanted to comfort you, yet was still weary of you. But you were his sister right? And come to protect Pandora from your own species right? He was in conflict with himself, but when he heard your silent sniff with his hearing, Neteyam immediately pulls your small body against his much larger one. You smiled at the warm and welcoming feeling. Now you didn't only have Seb and Raja as your family, but also your four siblings. You turned to Kiri and flashed her a small smile, "well, earth is so much more different than here. Nature is slowly disappearing as they ruin it all."

"They?" Lo'ak asked curiously and you nod at his question, "my species, humans. They destroy nature to build buildings, houses, companies you call it."

"What are companies?" This time Tuk asked a question, her eyes filled with curiosity as she learned something new from you. "Let me give you an example. So you hunt for food right? Say, you hunt a lot of that food all at once and you give it to people, but you want something in return. That's what companies do."

"But that's terrible, to kill so much all at once," Neteyam whispered under his breath. As a warrior, he had learned to appreciate nature, kill an animal respectfully, and thank it for feeding them. But this? Killing animals mercilessly? That goes against all of his norms and values. You nodded your head, "it's why so many animals go extinct on my planet. The humans are killing their mother," you took your hunter's knife and played with it while you continued your sentence, "but not everyone is so bad. I met wonderful people back on earth. People that fought against the cruel ways that destroy the planet." You looked up at Neteyam and Tuk, then Lo'ak and lastly Kiri, "I'm here to protect you all as well. As a warrior and a sister." Your hand carefully went to caress Neteyam's cheek, "worry no more baby bro, I'll be the one to keep you safe."

The five of you talked all day, they were such nice company. You mainly talked about yourselves, because most noticed how talking about Jake made your mood instantly drop. Most, because Lo'ak was as oblivious as ever. Neteyam wasn't usually one to disobey orders, so when he noticed how it was almost past eclipse, he shot up from his seat, "guys we gotta go, it's going to be dark soon and it's dangerous to be out around eclipse." He held Tuk's hand as he moved his gaze to you, "you should come to high camp with us. The lab is too far away and you need to be there tomorrow anyway." Your eyes shot up in surprise, "tomorrow?" You didn't know anything about tomorrow. Did you miss anything on the planning? Neteyam nodded at your question, "yes tomorrow, no one told you?" You shrugged in return, "I could have missed that part. The two other warriors I am with were busy today in different clans and I had to stay at lab, so I haven't spoken to them since." You explained to your younger brother. Both Raja and Seb had to go to two different clans. Being one of the best warriors, they had to watch over some important stuff for a while. You stayed at the lab, in case there were any emergencies. Kiri already called for her Ikran, a loud screech leaving her lips as she did so, "come on Tuk!" She called out to her youngest sibling. Kiri's Ikran lands swiftly on the mossy ground as it let out a screech. Your eyes widen in admiration, "wow... They're much bigger in real life." You only read about Ikran's in books and illustrations, but this was an insane experience for you. Tuk ran up to Kiri as the two of them got on her Ikran, Tuk sitting in front as she leaned against her sister's chest. Neteyam, as well as Lo'ak called for their Ikran, the same screech leaving their lips. "She's riding with me, Lo'ak. I don't want her getting in even more conflict with dad than she already is." Lo'ak sighed loudly, knowing that Neteyam was right, as he climbed onto his own Ikran. Your eyes sparkled as she ran up to your brother, "I'm sitting on your ikran?! Right now?!" He chuckled at your excitement, happy that he didn't see any tears anymore. The hint of sadness was still slightly displayed in his eyes and the way your cheeks were covered in dried-up tears, but he was happy that their presence made you feel a tad bit happier. He took you in his arms as he lifted you on his banshee, "shh, we are flying with three today." He whispered against his Ikran's head, patting her on her face before he got up the banshee with ease. "Okay hold on here and trust me, alright?" He held your hands as he showed you where to hold them. You smiled cheeky, never so ready for something before.

Jake's flight back to high camp was depressing. His banshee, bob, also felt the distress, guilt, and conflict because of the bond that kept them connected. The ride to high camp felt extremely long and draining, all his energy seemed to disappear. His eyes felt heavy as the tears couldn't stop flowing, the wind making it worse as it burned his eyes even further. After you ran out, Norm and Max tried to talk some sense into him. Yet he couldn't their words clearly. He seemed to be in a trance, unable to move as your words rang into his head.

You're dead to me, Jake Sully.

He shook his head to forget them. No, he wouldn't end it at this. Not like that.

Not again.

A/N: tysm for reading!! Reader is finally smiling thanks to the Sully kids hearteyes. Can't believe how I managed to write a total of 15k words so far, meanwhile I am struggling with the book I'm going to publish. Should probably focus on my book for a bit💀 but daddy issues Jake is also important. hope you enjoyed. <3

Taglist in the comments!! if you didn't get tagged it might be because you changed your username, your settings or it could be that I forgot to.

[slashv1xen]

pov: ur comforting bo sinclair after he’s being emotional

gn!reader x bo sinclair - hurt/comfort + fluff

a/n note: this is just a self indulgent post, hope you enjoy! (TW: implications of childhood abuse, slight swearing)

you had just finished washing the dishes when you heard faint sobbing coming from upstairs. ‘who could that be?’

you walked up the stairs and opened a bedroom door. inside, was bo crying his eyes out (but as quietly as possible), a scattered pile of photos of him and his family as kids and scrunched up balls of tissues. as soon as the door opened his head whipped around to the door, his eyes red and watery.

the both of you made eye contact, both of your mouths slightly agape. bo immediately turned red and sniffled, avoiding your gaze and rubbing his tears aggressively.

“oh bo…” you say softly, walking to him and sitting on the bed next to him. he looked down, clearly embarrassed. you sighed, and cupped his face with one hand. “bo, you don’t need to hide your emotions from me, it doesn’t make you any less of a man. i want you to feel safe with me, and i want to you to know that you can always talk to me, okay?”

he looked up at you, his lip quivering as he obviously tried to hide his crying. " 'm not cryin', it's the damn dust in this room," he said as strongly as possible, however his voice broke in the middle of his sentence.

you looked down at the photos and held one, looking at the picture of a 10yo bo holding a fishing pole and a large grin on his face, the scars on his wrists appearing fresh.

"you crying over your upbringing? look bo, i know you've had a shit upbringing and i am so sorry, but whenever you feel this way please come to me, i'll never let anything like that happen to you again, alright?" you set the photo down on the bed, and your eyes met with bo's, who's eyes were wide open.

his eyes began welling up with tears again, but he looked away from you, gripping the sheet under him so tight his knuckles turned white.

"oh bo..." you whispered. you gently got up from the bed and sat on his lap (much to his surprise), and you cupped his face with your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. "what, what 're you doin'?"

"you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. i'm not here to force anything out of you, just let me hold you."

this sent him over, he couldn't contain his feelings like he usually does after you said this. he looked down and started quietly sobbing, and you pulled his head into your chest. you felt your shirt getting wet and his hands gripping onto your shirt so tight you were surprised it didn't rip. you wrapped your arms around his head, running one hand through his hair and the other scratching his back lightly.

"shh, i'm here bo, let it all out.." you cooed, kissing him every so often on the crown of his head. like clockwork, he started crying harder, his quiet wails getting louder.

this went on for some time, until he stopped (after around 20min). he looked up at you, with red eyes and damp cheeks.

“i love you so much, you know that right? i am-” you begin to say, when bo pushed his lips to yours, kissing you softly, never wanting this moment to end.

[chronically-ghosted]

fade into you

rating: Explicit (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4K

summary: counting down the days until the new baby arrives, you’re already wound to a breaking point. Fortunately, Dieter is as good a husband as he is a father. 

warnings: pregnancy, hormonal behavior due to pregnancy, fluffy cute behavior with kids, oral (m!receiving), Dieter is a sensitive king and loves your tummy, brief body insecurity, pregnancy sex, smut, thigh fucking, daddy/mommy dynamic – mostly tongue in cheek, and finally the return of the greatest tag gone far too long from our lives - daddy!dieter

a/n: congrats @burntheedges you are the first prompt for my 1k follower celebration! This was your prompt for Dieter: "Your shirt is inside out." "Can you help me fix that?" This takes place in the same universe as Little Monsters, but you don’t have to have read that one to understand this one. Thank you SO much for sending this in!

🤍Dieter Bravo Masterlist 🤍Masterlist

I wanna melt in I wanna soak through I only wanna move when you move I wanna breathe out when you breathe in then I wanna fade into you

“C’mon – c’mon, just –,” your outstretched toe barely scrapes the end of the pen. You’re sweating – of course, you’re sweating, you’re always sweating these days. You try inching further down on the bed, as far as your aching back will allow, your leg fully extended, stretched so long you know you’re just flirting with a massive cramp – 

You manage to snag the pen between your toes but as you bring it forward, the weight of the top slips back – “fuck, no!” and with a clatter, the pen tips backwards out of your grasp and onto the floor. After spending ten minutes trying to a fucking pen that you accidentally put there only after you managed to roll your way off the bed to go to the bathroom for the third time in forty-five minutes, the weight of it all hits you. The massive weight of you sinks back against the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, begging yourself not to cry.

You had all but demanded some time alone to work on the bills the producer wanted you to sort through. It was the last thing on your to-do list before you mentally allowed yourself to start your maternity leave and at this rate, it would be done by the time the nearly-grown baby in your stomach was a walking, talking ten year old. In that weird sixth sense mothers and their unborn children share, you feel your son turn and gently one foot presses against your forearm draped over your massive belly. In any other context, your heart would have been made ten times stronger, fortified by the love of your son.

Right now, it just makes you burst into tears. 

You’re crying so hard you don’t hear the back door open, or the rousing chorus of Baby Shark that echoes through the house. If you were listening, you’d hear the squelch of wet flip flops traipsing through the kitchen floor, the song only occasionally broken by giggles and jokes about towel monsters coming to get little girls who drip water all over the living room, and a loud raspberry on soft skin. 

He opens the door before you even have time to try to pull in the loud, wailing sob. 

“Baby, look at –,” 

“Dieter, don’t –,” you snatch up a pillow and shove your face into it, ashamed, embarrassed, and angry all at once. “Don’t look at me like this.” 

When he had left you an hour ago, you had your hot tea by the side of the bed and your game face on – one of your sexier faces, if anyone asked him. You swore up and down this was the last thing and then it was smooth-sailing. You loved overworking yourself even while eight months pregnant, so Dieter and your doctor managed to make an agreement with you: all work must be done in bed. 

You had your tea, a snack, even a towel wrapped around the headboard so you could pull yourself upright out of the bed to go to the bathroom unassisted while Dieter and Zelle went down to the pool . You, like you so often do, had a fool-proof plan. And to be quite honest, those were Dieter’s favorite kind of plans. 

Listening to his ‘you think I can’t do it? watch me, fuck you’ wife and mother of his child (soon to be another) wail like the house was on fire made something inside of him break on a microscopic level. Like his organs were suddenly perforated with a million tiny cuts. 

His bottoms still wet from the pool and Zelle’s wet suit quickly soaking the front of his t-shirt, Dieter approaches, his hand squeezing the arch of your foot to let him know he’s there. That did nothing to deter the anguish sobbing or inch the pillow away from your face. 

With Zelle on his hip, he slides closer, touching you the whole time until he’s seated right beside you, his hand on your thigh. Your sobbing might only be second to Zelle’s own yelling cry in successfully destroying him from the inside out.

“Baby . . .”

You don’t flinch but he sees your knuckles go white – you’re nearly at the end, but you can’t seem to stop. As Dieter waffles between drawing you into his chest with his free arm or just being there for you while you let it all out, the weight on his hip shifts and a little pudgy hand brushes the back of your knuckles.

“Mama?” 

Your sobbing stutters to a halt with a deep hiccup and all at once you go still. Very slowly, the pillow is lowered and your pink, snotty, dribbly face peers up at him. It’s not funny for you, and he knows this and he knows he won’t laugh but he wants nothing more than to pull you in close and kiss off those tears that have been nearly a constant presence in the last two weeks. Instead, his little girl beats him to it.

Zelle wiggles off his hip towards you and you take her in your arms, letting out one more whine as she wraps her tiny arms around your neck. She rubs her little face in your neck and you huff.

“Now, I feel silly,” you blubber. With a small chuckle, Dieter reaches over and gets a few tissues from the bedside table. He hands them over and you try to juggle Zelle and reaching over your swollen tummy to take them.

“C’mere, baby, let Mama have a second.” Zelle folds into his shoulder, her bright, inquisitive eyes never leaving your face as you wipe yourself dry and blow your nose. He rubs your thigh in circles. “You’re not silly. Whatever ever made you break out into deep sobs on a Thursday afternoon in our secluded bedroom is totally normal.” 

You give a watery laugh, sniffing as you try to adjust your pillows, Baby Brave Number Two rolling back into your kidneys. He doesn’t kick, he's as unassuming as possible, but he can’t help how he floats. 

“I dropped a pen,” you murmur with a sigh. “I just got comfortable after waddling back in from the bathroom and I dropped my pen.” 

“Mama mad?” Zelle hides her little face beneath a curtain of hair. Dieter Bravo’s offspring in every conceivable way, Zelle is rarely this timid – only when there’s even but a hint of an implication that she’s in trouble. You’d see those same puppy dog eyes come out of the man with his hand up against her small back more than a dozen times. 

“No, baby, I’m not mad.” You shake your head and those wide eyes get even bigger. “I’m just having a lot of feelings and I’m not doing a good job at managing them.”

“Yeah, like remember how you felt on your first day of preschool?” Dieter slides Zelle across his waist so she sits between you two. She glances back between your faces, anxiety and confusion twisting up her little features. “You were mad and sad and scared all at once so you started crying when we dropped you off?” She nods and he tucks a strand of delicate hair over her ear. “But then we had that talk in the car and you felt better. Mama just needs to do that.”

“Talk? Mama talk?” 

He smiles at her and pulls her into his chest, smelling her strawberry L’Oreal shampoo, and a peace he’d never known before sinks into his bones. He feels whole with his little girl in his arms.

“Yes, she just needs to talk. Right, Mama?”

He pulls back and watches you visibly swallow. Not a knot of sadness but something else. It’s gone from your eyes by the time Zelle turns back around. 

“I’m just really excited for your little brother to get here,” you say with a soft smile, your hand absentmindedly stroking the swell of your stomach where a little foot had been pressed just a few minutes ago. “Aren’t you?”

Zelle nods, smiling, and puts her ear to your stomach. A minute later, Dieter’s wide palm covers yours. He interlaces his fingers with yours and he smiles. The smile that’s been cultivated and cured over half a dozen years together, and recent late nights as new parents. A smile that has never graced a single magazine cover or Instagram reel. A smile that is forever and always will be yours. 

“Come on, love bug, it’s bath time.” Dieter swings Zelle up into his arms and nibbles on her neck making her giggle. 

“Then dinner time,” you grunt as you inch towards the edge of the bed. You try and swing your legs off the edge but end up nearly toppling over your lowered center of gravity.

“Baby –,” his firm grip steadies you, stops you from rolling into the bedside table. Those lines at the corners of his eyes sharpen for a second as he looks you over, worry all at once endearing and annoying. You hated being coddled but Dieter loved to coddle. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you can hear how out of breath you sound and you grimace. Dieter doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re firmly planted on the ground next to him and you squeeze his bicep as reassuringly as you possibly can. He loosens his grip, concern wrinkling his forehead, his hand sliding from your arm, to your elbow then over your belly once again. Baby Bravo jostles you where his father’s hand sits.

“See, we’re all okay.” 

Your gazes meet at the same time and something softens in his eyes, soothes him and you down to the very beat of your heart. As if in a daze, Dieter’s eyelids flutter half-shut and his eyes slip to your mouth, he puts his hand on your swollen waist as he kisses you – deeply, with an intensity that makes your knees quiver. 

“Ew.”

A puff of breath fans your cheeks as Dieter breaks the kiss with a laugh. On his hip, Zelle chews on her little fist, an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. 

“You can’t say ‘ew’. You only exist because of kisses like that –,”

“Dieter!” 

He shakes his head before kissing Zelle on her little nose. “Tough crowd tonight. But even little sharks need to get a bath before dinner.”

Zelle scrunches up her nose, baring her crooked little teeth, and raises her fingers like claws. “Rawr.”

You hear Dieter chuckle as he walks her down to the bathroom. “Yes, baby, that’s definitely the sound sharks make.”

The bills aggressively shoved to the floor, you are folding the last bit of laundry over the bed after dinner when Dieter saunters in. Still in his trunks and shirt from earlier in the day, a faint pink blush warms his nose and cheeks – which would be gone in a few days, only to be replaced by a gorgeous dark almond color. Dieter Bravo could naturally tan so perfectly it was honestly heart-breaking. 

“She’s out?” 

“She’s out.” He nods with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head and snags his phone off the bedside table. When he sits down on the edge of the bed, you see the tag of his shirt over the lip of his collar. You muffle your grin and quietly finish with the towels. “The guy who came up with the lyrics ‘Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo’ is either a genius or a madman. Two rounds of that and she’s basically comatose.”

“How do you know it was a man?” You arch your eyebrow at him. 

Dieter lifts his head from his phone and smirks at you. He reaches for you and you let him tug you between his legs. He kisses your wrist, your hands curled around his broad shoulders. “That was incredibly sexist of me, darling, can you ever forgive me?”

Dropping his head, he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your stomach, his eyes flicking up to you at the last second, the bottom half of his face hidden. The sight, one you haven’t seen in recent months but one you craved like a drizzle of honey over a bowl of fruit, loosens the tension in your back and liquifies your underwear. 

“Dieter?”

“Yes, O Love of My Life?”

“Your shirt is inside out.”

The sultry look in his eyes immediately flickers out and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head and pressing his face into your neck.

“What would I do without you? Can you help me fix that?” 

“Mhm hm.”

His back arched, you roll the faintly damp shirt up his spine, careful to take in the notches visible through his skin. You watch in delight as more of that broad back is revealed, more golden skin and freckles. The rim of the collar catches the back of his head so when you finally tug it off him, his hair is scattered in a dozen different directions. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to moan at the site. 

“Or . . .” you make a deliberate show of dropping the shirt and Dieter goes honey-eyed again. 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head up, wraps his massive hands around the back of your thighs, squeezing you above the backs of your knees, then higher up, his fingers pressing into your inner thigh muscles, and finally resting on your ass. 

You nod and gently push him back. He goes without being told twice. “I want to thank you for taking Zelle to let me work today.”

His eyes go wide, his elbows locked with his arms set apart behind him, when you go onto your knees in front of him.

“B-baby, your back –,”

“Then give me a pillow, Dieter.” 

He nearly launches himself back to snag a pillow by the headboard. 

“My back is one thing, but I’m more worried about the knot of your trunks.”

Dieter busies himself with the drawstring of his shorts, his movements frantic, giving you a chance to muffle a grunt as you ease the pillow underneath your knees. He’s right, of course, but fuck if you couldn’t get those goddamn bills done, the least you could blow your husband until he popped off in your mouth. 

“Love, you really don’t have to do this.” You glance up at him and despite the evident tent in his swim trunks, his wide eager eyes, he will do everything in his power to make these last few weeks even somewhat bearable. 

With a smile, you lean forward and squeeze his knees. “I know. And honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I wanna try. Is that okay?”

An awe-struck grin splits his lips apart and he laughs, a high-pitched sound and breathless. “How long you’re gonna last? Been half-hard all day since you put on those leggings this morning.”

“Well, you were so good with Zelle today, talking to her about feelings, it made me kinda hot and bothered so I feel especially grateful.”

You lean forward, fingers plucking at the damp strings and out of the corner of your eye you see his knuckles go white against the sheets. You tug and he helps you by lifting his hips.

“S-so that’s what that look w-was.” He swallows roughly as you take him in your hand, stroking him gently at first. He squeezes his eyes shut – god, could you really make him come with just a few touches? “I’m j-just – fuck – doing my part.” 

You kiss along his length and his shoulders lock up as his breathing quickens. You suck the spit in your mouth before dropping a string of drool right on the head and Dieter’s groan elongates, the muscles of his neck tense. 

“Well, Mommy likes it when Daddy does a good job.”

Tongue out and jaw loose, you swallow him down nearly to the base. Maybe you’re biased because you married the himbo attached to it, but Dieter’s cock is one of the – if not the – very best cocks you’ve ever seen in your life. Thick without being overwhelmingly long and always oozing precum the instant you breathe on it. A slick vein that has him whimpering with a single lick. 

“Fuck, Mama, you’re so fucking good at this.” Dieter’s hand floats to the crown of your head, his nails scratching your scalp, the weight of his palm soothing as it follows the motions of your head. With every little sigh he makes, your pussy squeezes with every bob of your head. Dieter’s sensitivity has always been a near drug for you, a chemical reaction that floods your brain, branding those noises on the lining of your skull as he drips down the back of your throat. You meet his hot gaze just as you drag your mouth up and nearly off him, only to kitten-lick the lip of his head and he clamps his eyes shut, shuddering.

When you hear his heel kick the ground beside you, his chest heaving and chin tilted up, you drop your mouth down to his base – years of taking him training you to smother your gag-reflex – and with hollowed cheeks, suck him all the way up to the tip. His wiry curls smell like chlorine and musk. 

Dieter jerks, his hand flying to your shoulder as if to pry you off him. 

“Mhmm – baby, p-please – shit,” he swallows and you pop off him, his cock red and shiny from your spit. Dieter is panting, soft center fluttering, flush high in his throat. Your underwear sticks to you as you realize he very nearly came in your mouth without warning. Call it being a masochist but you loved making him come before either of you realized what was happening. 

“Get off your fucking knees and come here –,” he yanks you into his naked lap and you go, giggling as he palms your ass and kissing you so hard you tilt back. He bites your bottom lip and you keen. “Can’t believe I let my pregnant wife fucking suck me off like that when she knows I worship that little pussy.” 

He cups you through your leggings and the dampness soaking through the fabric sends a moan through both of you. Dieter’s jaw goes lax as he rubs his thick fingers across your folds, the material catching and dragging, and you whimper – and not in a way he knows means a good thing. His gaze floods with worry and you shake your head – the instant the doctor gives the go-ahead you’re gonna have him rail you through a bedpost – “It’s okay. I’m just sore, baby. Last night –,”

He tsks, frowning. “I told you I was being too rough.”

“I asked for it. Also, so not the time for an ‘I told you so’. Help me stand up.” 

With his hands on your hips, he eases you off of his lap and onto your feet. You lift up your exasperatedly large shirt, the hemline of which has been steadily shrinking as you grow, and clip off your bra. Dieter stares, mouth open, as you slip your leggings and your sticky underwear off your round hips and to the floor. With your second baby, you’d managed to quell the looming anxiety about your body changing but with a boy, you just feel ten times your normal size, bigger than you did with Zelle. Your heart hitches in your chest as Dieter’s eyes roam from your shoulders to your swollen tits, your belly, your thighs, and you’d be happy if he just thought you were – 

“Gorgeous, baby, just fucking gorgeous.” He stands and kisses you without another word, his thumbs on your jaw tilting your mouth into his. He palms your breast, hard and weighed with milk. He approaches you with a level of sensuality that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your knees shake. How can he touch you like that when you’re already filled to the brim?

“How do you need it, baby?”

The tension that had been locking down the muscles in your back, your hips, since you woke up this morning, only heightened over those stupid fucking bills and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, cracks at his words. Without your hands on his chest and his big hands cradling your jaw, you’re sure you would have melted to the floor. You lick your bottom lip, eyes scrunched tightly to clear the sudden tightness behind them. 

“On my side, but between my thighs?” 

His eyes are all heat, all dark wanting, but he hits you in the knees with one of his crooked grins. “Yeah, you’re gonna let Daddy fuck your thighs?” Total reverence, filth that has your toes curling coming as easy to him as it is to breathe. 

“Please.” 

He stands back at a distance, watching with half-set eyes as you climb into bed and peel back the covers. As you settle, Dieter flicks off the overhead light, and then the lamp by your bedside. His body lined in dark shadows and the cool touch of the moonlight, you track him as he rounds the bed, sliding in behind you in bed, the covers up to his shoulders. There’s a breath of silence, of anticipation, of a yearning so deep your skin flushes with goosebumps at his proximity. You know he’s there, you watched him dip on the other side of the bed, but a spark of panic tightens your lungs, you want to reach back for him, your baby unmoored as you are, trembling and desperate for the calming touch of the father –

He kisses you over your shoulder, broad, warm hand starting at your hip, then scooping down around your naked bottom to settle on your belly and from where his hand sits, you radiate with heat. Melting and growing sticky like tree sap, you drip for him, slick smearing across your thighs with no material to soak you up. His mouth is warm, the short hairs of his mustache numbing your upper lip, the taste of the red wine from dinner light against the back of his tongue. 

When he cups you again, finds the sticky sap gathered in your curls and leaking onto your thighs, he breaks the kiss with a grunt and presses his teeth into your shoulder, his cock fully present against your back. You nip his bottom lip with your thumbnail, pleased beyond words at his reaction.

“I love you.” 

That’s not what you thought he was going to say. He lifts his furrowed brow, eyes dark but struck with such earnestness, you feel your heartbeat in your ears. He sucks the mark his teeth made on your shoulder, his hips hitching closer, turning his weight over you, before dropping closer to kiss you again.

“How did I get so fucking lucky with you, hm?” He asks of no one. Delicately, he guides your knee back over his hip, his breath warm across the curve of your shoulder, his other hand pressing gently on the back of your neck. He would never, ever choke you in this state, but fuck you missed it. You missed it when Dieter loses himself entirely in you. 

The head of his cock taps the wet triangle of your thighs and you fist the pillow beneath your head. He shuffles closer and you can feel his chest trembling with restraint. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says in one breath. You know if you look over your shoulder, he’s fixated on watching you take his cock. Oddly enough, his ADHD always seemed to clear out during sex. “Do– do you need my fingers – a-a toy to prep you, ‘cause I can–,”

“Dieter, please.”

He exhales and, with a slow thrust that smears your arousal all over his spit-licked cock, you finally feel relief. The noise that leaves your throat is unrecognizable. That ruddy tip kisses your clit and the moan that tears out of you is nearly a scream. 

A wide palm claps over your mouth, a breathy giggle falling down your back. 

“Baby,” low, strained, barely audible over the sounds of your slickness sucking your thighs together around Dieter’s cock. “If you wake up that child before I’m balls deep in you, I will never forgive you.”

Using his hand as leverage, he pulls you back against him, pressing himself even further between your soaked lips, prodding your clit so gently it sends sparks up your spine and you come, a small wave, that somehow has you leaking more onto his cock. 

“Ah – oh my god – did you just –?” 

You whine and wrap your hand up into his hair, and finally he’s skin to skin up your back. His hips jolt you forward, the hard smack loud and sloppy in the mess between your thighs. Dieter leans over you and nips at your earlobe, his thrusts faster now, each one catching your clit with just enough time apart to send you ratcheting higher. 

“That’s so good, Dieter, you’re doing so good –,”

A sharp intake of breath, high through a vocal shudder, and he drops down onto his shoulder against the pillow, looping his arm around your chest, a wide palm cupping your sensitive breast. Skin to skin, he is a wall of heat behind you, his hands both steadying you and begging you for more against your hip. It’s moments like these, when he’s swallowing up every sense you’re still in control of, that you really believe your soul lives in two bodies. 

He tucks his lips near your ear and your skin tingles. “Can I touch your clit, or does that hurt?”

“Just put your hand –,”

You take him by the wrist from the curve of your waist, where he grips you tight, fingers pocketing your flesh, and slide him down between your legs. 

“That’s it, baby, take what you need.” 

Between the consistent bouncing of his cock between your pussy lips and the heat of his four fingers, stocky and thick, you have nowhere to go but up, your own hips thrust back aimlessly, bliss hurling towards you, until it breaks – and you whine, squeeze Dieter’s hand so hard, you think you hear a bone pop.

Wetness floods your thighs and, half a dozen strokes later, Dieter spills with a groan, white cream splattering against the low curve of your belly and onto the sheets. Covered in literal spend, exhaustion soaks your bones, gasping for air and never finding enough. You lie together, your bodies buzzing, blood roaring loud beneath your skin, until Dieter tilts his weight off you – you didn’t even realize he had nearly smothered you – and his cock slides out from between your numb legs, his grip loosening from your breast and his hand flopping down into the sheets. His skin is pink from exertion.

You grin and roll over as gracefully as you can, out of breath and the size of a house. 

“An unexpected bonus,” you sigh, ringing your belly button with your finger, “I think we rocked him to sleep.” 

Dieter huffs a laugh as he pushes a handful of damp curls off his sweaty forehead and his other arm curls around your shoulders. He rests his other palm over your fingers on your belly.

“Glad I could tire all three of us out.” You giggle into his shoulder. Both of you are sticky hot, sweltering in a fog of your own mess, and you can feel sleep tugging at the corners of your eyes. Humming, you curl up closer to him, your knee over his hip, tucking your nose into his neck as his fingers absently play with strands of your hair. 

“I meant what I said, you know that right?”

Your body as supple as warm wax, eyes melting shut, you nod vaguely. “Mhmm hmm.” 

“I love you, baby. Thank you, for everything.”

You return the sentiment, the words dribbling out of your mouth as sleep overwhelms you.

Later, when you wake up in the early blue hours of the morning, rain pattering against the glass, and you feel something cool and soft against your belly, you stir, reaching for him.

“Hush, baby, stay still for me.” He hums somewhere above you. You nod, on the precipice of sleep again. “You gave me the world, I’m just returning the favor.”

Later still, when you awake to a soggy light, Dieter and Zelle down the hall excitedly picking out which movies to watch on this designated Stay on the Couch day, you roll onto your back and realize he’s painted a globe onto your stomach. 

A foot inside you presses up against Chile and you grin into space, content beyond your wildest dreams. 

+

[number-onekidqueen]

The Seven Times Luke Castellan Said 'I Love You'

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Pure angst.

3.7k words

Warnings: death, injury, insecurities, bad parenting, spoilers for Percy Jackson book series.

One. 

Luke must’ve been four the first time he ever said those three words. 

He’d been at preschool, and it was the second week. He’d missed mommy. He felt different to all the other kids, and there were all these really scary faces that kept popping out of bushes that no one else could see. His mommy had picked him up early when the preschool called, and taken him home to a surprise. She’d baked his favourite: choc chip cookies, and he was even allowed to drink Kool-Aid too! 

“I love you, mommy!!” He’d mumbled, while he stuffed his little mouth with the baked goods, in a sugary daze. 

It made him feel so much better, knowing at least he had mommy to always come home to and rely on. 

If only that had been true. 

Two. 

He was 9 when he said that sentence for the second time. 

Mom wasn’t there for him anymore. 

He was scared to go to school and leave her alone, because every time he got home, she would be insane. It’s like she wasn’t there with him anymore. 

She would scream so loud and her eyes would be bright green, and she’d shake him and cry, wailing about how he was going to die. Usually it would make him so disturbed he’d run into his bedroom and lock the door, hoping she wouldn’t follow. 

She always did. 

It was when she started to pound on his door, begging him to come out, that he’d begin to sob, shaking in fright. 

He’d pray and pray to his dad in desperate tears, asking and asking him to bless his mom, to free her from this curse and to make her better again. It didn’t ever stop. 

She’d still make cookies, sometimes, but she’d forget about them and leave them in for so long they’d always be burnt to cinders. She’d serve Kool-Aid too, but he’d grown out of it. 

Eventually, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His mom wasn’t getting better, but worse. Her fits were getting more frequent, and Luke’s dad wasn’t doing anything to help him. 

Luke couldn’t stay here a second longer. 

“I love you, mum,�� he whispered to her curled figure on the couch, a full backpack on his shoulder and all his childhood allowance in his pockets as he softly closed the door. 

He knew they’d be better off without each other. 

Three. 

Luke was fourteen when he said that phrase for the third time. 

He’d finally found his family. 

Sure, it hurt to think of his mother, all alone in his old house, but he had two amazing, brave and funny sisters to make up for that.

Until he didn’t. 

It was all such a blur. 

One second, they’d just been meeting some satyr by the name of Grover, who claimed to be their protector, a safeguard back to a camp for kids like them. 

They’d been on the journey, he, Thalia, Annabeth, wondering what it would be like when they got there, what would happen. 

And then the cyclops had struck. 

It had all gone too quickly from there. They’d been running madly, tripping through the forest scrub, their hearts pumping, their adrenaline pulsing, Grover yelling that the entrance to camp wasn’t far, that they’d be safe there and to keep going. 

The cyclops was still gaining on them,  and Luke was starting to feel an awful sense of dread. 

Then Thalia - brave, amazing, stupid Thalia - had volunteered to fight the monster. She’d told them to run ahead, that she had the sucker and would be right behind them. 

And Luke was scared and thinking of Annabeth and safety, and he agreed, he kept running. 

He left her. 

His sister. 

He swore he blinked once, and then she was dying, crumpled on the dirt, bleeding out and groaning in pain, camp only an ironic few metres away. 

None of them even had time to reach out a hand to help her before she turned golden, vanished into a great big pine tree. 

Gone forever before he could say goodbye. 

“I love you, Thalia,” he whispered that night, not caring that he was breaking curfew rules, getting too close to the dangerous outskirts of camp. 

Not caring he was using present tense. He refused to say ‘loved.’

Because he would love Thalia forever. 

Four

Luke was sixteen the fourth time he uttered those words. 

After all his life he was finally at home. 

He’d grown accustomed and comfortable with camp, accepting it as his home. Even though sometimes it was weird to be at a summer camp all year round, he found happiness in his new place, trying to forget about the bad things. Thalia. His mother. 

He’d found peace in routine, and confidence. Chiron said he was becoming what would be the best swordsman Camp Half-Blood had seen in 300 years. 

There were his friends and siblings. He had Chris and the Stolls, and all the other Hermes kids that made his cabin rowdy and feel homelike. 

Then there was y/n, probably his best friend, an Apollo girl who’d healed him immediately after he got to camp and had been there for him since. 

There were heaps of activities to keep him busy. Training. Capture the flag. Parties, when he was old enough. 

It had been the second of one of the post-curfew parties Luke had been to, and he admitted he had drank too much. Far too much. 

Things had got out of hand when an Ares boy had insulted you, someone who was lovely to everyone. He couldn’t really even remember what the boy had said, only that it enraged him and he’d only seen red after that. 

It all sort of went downhill from there. He’d thrown a punch, received one, and the rest was a sweaty and jagged dance of thrown limbs. 

And now he was here, replaying the events in his mind, sat on the bathroom floor of the Apollo cabin, you kneeling over him with a warm cloth. His fists clenched at the thought of that stupid boy again. 

“Luke,” you whispered, and the thoughts disappeared. “Look at me so I can fix you up.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. It gave him an excuse to openly stare at you. In this dim light, you were gorgeous. Your skin seemed to glow golden from within, which mirrored the bright warmth of your eyes, and the radiance of your hair that framed your face. It was bittersweet, making him happy yet sick with longing, especially in his drunken state, to think of how you weren’t his. I want you, he wanted to whisper. He nearly did. 

“Thank you. You’re so good.” He said instead. 

“I don’t know about that, but always. That’s what best friends are for,” you reassured, smiling. 

His heart sank. He didn’t want you like a best friend. He wanted you to want him like he wanted you. 

“Yeah,” he said offhandedly. 

There was a long pause. Your touch was soft on the cuts all over him, and although it stung, it was worth it. It was finished all too soon except-

“I’m still hurt,” he tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t form, “like, my chest.”

“He got you there too? Through your shirt?”

“Yeah. Little sucker had a pocketknife and everything.”

“Ok,” you replied. The room stayed silent. Suddenly, he was confused. 

“Um-“

“Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, um-“

Your hands reached for him almost… shyly. Could it be possible that you were overthinking seeing him like this, flustered, also thinking about him like he was about you? It drew a grin to his face. He decided to play with you. 

“You don’t have to treat me that delicately. I promise it doesn’t hurt that much.” 

You gave a nervous laugh, your hands moving slightly faster as he lifted his arms. 

And then it was time to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were certainly not on him, but his chest, and it almost seemed your cheeks had transitioned from golden to rosy. His grin turned into a smirk. 

“I gather that stare is either in reaction to my amazing abs or really bad cut. Either way, take it all in,” he teased. It occurred to him later he would never have said anything remotely like this if he was sober. 

“Haha, Castellan,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and continuing your job. But you were smiling. 

Your features were even softer closer up. It took his breath away, and he couldn’t help the words that next escaped from the confines of his heart. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

You froze, midway through finishing dabbing a cut. Your eyes looked up at his, his earnest, vulnerable irises. And then you looked down at his lips. And dropping the cloth, you took his face into your hands and kissed him. It was the most exhilarating, fantastic five seconds of his life. And then you pulled away, stepping back. 

“There you go. That’s probably all you wanted, since you’re drunk. You’re-you’re healed now.” You stuttered out. 

And he wanted to chase you, have another kiss, try to create a proper response to that, to why he loved you, but you’d ran away from him, and he didn’t want to be snooping through someone else’s cabin, even in his state. 

He was left reeling in the moonlight, stumbling back to his cabin before the harpies found him. Once he was between the sheets, his mind muddled, he found it easy to fall asleep, the image and feel of you still in his mind. 

He woke up the next day, baffled that his mind could come up with a dream so lifelike. Even mad that maybe a Hypnos kid has taken note of his crush and decided to create a dream like that as a prank. What assholes. 

Because you would never kiss someone like him, he knew that. 

Like ever. 

Five

Luke was seventeen the fifth time he said that statement. 

He hadn’t known things could get so much worse. 

His father, finally acknowledging him after his claiming, had sent him on a quest. Sure, it was a reused quest from Heracles, but Luke knew just how glorified and contested quests were, and so he accepted happily, choosing two of the older and more experienced campers to assist him in retrieving the golden apples from the dragon. 

You were a bit offended that he hadn’t chose you, and he had no explanation that he could offer you, save for a confession. It made for a parting laced with bitterness. 

The quest started off fine, and they got to their destination smoothly, but it quickly went downhill from there. 

Once they were in the garden, almost immediately the dragon was alerted of their presence. It began to attack, using quick, violent manoeuvres that were hard to keep up with for even the most experienced. 

Too hard for one of his quest mates, who became food for the monster’s jaws. It was a sickening, gruesome sight that Luke could never wipe from his mind. 

The other quest mate became injured soon after that, and then it was Luke on his own. 

At that point, even he knew the quest was lost. He was just defending himself and trying to get out alive. And so he did, with a painful scar from eye to chin as a marking of his forever defeat against the dragon. 

He returned as a failure. 

He was wounded, with a permanent and ugly physical memory, one of his quest mates was dead, the other also mortally wounded, and their fingers hadn’t even grazed the golden flesh of the apples. He couldn’t even finish an already done quest. 

Worse was the pity. 

The moment he stepped past Thalia’s tree and into camp, all he received was pity. Quiet voices, soft glances, stopped conversations, permits, excuses. 

It was as if he were the dragon, and they were afraid that if they did not tread lightly he may begin roaring flames at them. 

He never did. 

Just like y/n never treated him with pity. 

Your eyes were objective, calculating as they surveyed his wounds. Of course your words were soft, but they always were, with your perfect bedside manner. In those moments where you treated him normally, he couldn’t appreciate you more. 

Worst of all probably were the nightmares. He had one awful recurring one: he’d be back in that hellish garden, the dying screams of his dead quest mate and the roaring of the dragon in his ears, the adrenaline and chase all through him, and then every camper he’d ever known would appear, surround him and shake their heads, looking at him in pity and knowing he was a failure. They would chant it, and pelt burning rocks at him, and he would run, run, run, but he could never escape it. 

He couldn’t bear it one hot late July night, and slipped away under the stars. He was always calmer there, where he could put himself and his feelings into perspective. 

And that’s where y/n had found him, sitting on the dew-soaked grass with his knees loosely curled to his chest. 

You didn’t say anything in the beginning, just sat there beside him, breathing, stargazing too. 

“I’ve seen you come out here, every night this week.” You stated, finally looking over at him. “Are the nightmares that bad?”

He nodded, gulping down the fear and tears that submerged at the thought. 

“You should’ve come to me, you know we have dreamless tonic at the infirmary-“

“Yeah I know. But I deserve it, don’t I?” He asked bitterly, turning to you, “I failed and so I get to live with the consequences. The nightmares.”

“No. No, of course not. You don’t have to face consequences-“

“But I do already, don’t I? I feel like I’m not even the same at all, like I’ll never be the same again. I’ve got this stupid, disgusting scar,” he spat, jabbing at his face, “as this reminder and I’ve got to live knowing I wasn’t ever good enough to succeed and my failure led to someone’s death.”

There was silence for a while, where you gazed at him, at his eyes. 

“Stop blaming yourself,” you said softly, “I won’t let you.”

“I can’t help it though,” he whispered, voice cracking, “after training for so long and everyone telling me I’m the best swordsman, I couldn’t save someone, could barely defend myself. And now they’re dead, because of me. And every time I try and forget it- I look in the mirror and see this-this scar and-“

You scooted closer, and one of your hands laid over his. 

“Your scar isn’t a symbol of failure. It should never be. It means you’re brave, that you survived that dragon-“ you reached for his face, and so, so gently began to run your index finger down his scar, “-that you’ve overcome all that horror and emerged stronger.”

You cupped his cheek after you finished tracing. His heart was racing. 

“And you’re still the same to me. You’re still smart, funny, brave, handsome, strong. You’re still you. Don’t let anyone take that away.”

Your hand slowly drew away from his face, but he caught it, keeping you there. 

And he stared. 

Stared at this beautiful, golden girl who was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could only think of three words. 

“I love you,” he whispered to you, and he slowly leaned in. 

You kissed, his hands in your silky hair and yours on his strong back, and this was the most effective healing Luke had ever had. 

He knew at this moment that the best he would ever be was with you. 

And that would be always, he hoped. 

Six. 

Luke was nineteen the next time he spoke from his heart. 

Things were finally getting better, but they had a long way to go. Luke would be there to see the good change come through. 

Camp was normal. Demigods died, demigods lived. They got claimed, their parents ignored them for months or years. They would train for quests, row, sing at camp fires. He would teach sword classes, rowing, and in his spare time he and y/n would go to their secret spot at the lake and…. Spend some time together in private. 

Flustered and a little ruffled they would return to have dinner, stargaze, play wild games of Capture the Flag. 

Luke was happy enough. But he didn’t know how long this would last, this calm joy. 

He couldn’t live like this, waiting in fear for the other shoe to drop with no help from his dad and the other gods. 

He’d made his decisions, laid his plans, and now he waited. Waited. 

Tangled in your arms, he traced shapes on your hands as you played with his hair. It was a warm environment, like the home he never had. 

The nightmares never really left Luke. Well, unless you were with him. 

It was many a night, after curfew, when snores were in the air that he would sneak into your cabin and join you (There were too many people in Hermes cabin for the alternative to ever happen). 

And there in your bed he would stay. Sometimes you would talk. Sometimes you would make out. And sometimes you would have quiet times like this, all of each other intertwined as you were lost in comforting thoughts. 

Well, you were. 

Luke was lost in guilt and impossible choices. He never wanted to leave you, be apart from you. He didn’t know how he’d live without seeing you, hearing your voice. And he hated to leave you like this.  But he knew you would never join him. Apollo hadn’t been great, but he hadn’t been terrible and he knew his plans would scare you. He wanted the best for half bloods. This was the only way he could think of. When he came back, surely you would understand. 

“You’re so quiet,” you mumbled, from your place under his chin. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what I was thinking about?” And he made up some deep philosophical thought that the two of you quietly discussed and argued about for the next little while, the conversation drifting to other topics before you got drowsy. 

“Good night,” you murmured, lifting your face to kiss his nose, scar and lips softly. You returned your head to its place, your warm lips in a smile against his neck, “see you in the morning.”

His stomach plunged, and he felt sick with guilt. He reached over for you, drawing you in for a long, passionate kiss. You, still half asleep, confusedly frowned, but settled back into him with a grin on your face. It was a goodbye, but you didn’t know that. 

“I love you,” he breathed, while you fell asleep, and he swore he saw your lips turn upwards. You succumbed to sleep quickly, and it made it simple to softly slip away, escape from you. 

As he passed Thalia’s tree, he turned back to look at the cabins, your cabin. 

He’d run away once from a home, and it had hurt him. But it had been worth it in the end, and he didn’t regret it. 

It hurt running away from this home. Was it worth leaving if it tore his heart into two? He supposed only time would tell. Fitting, giving who his new master was. 

——————

And that was the last time Luke ever said I love you. 

Well, there was once more. 

——————————

Seven. 

He didn’t know how old he was when he said that small sentence for the final time. 

All he knew was he obeyed Kronos and that the gods had to be slain. 

The city at least was familiar. A deep, small part of him felt almost… scared and upset that this city was being damaged. 

Oh, and the people. There was a boy he hated, who was powerful and threatening. And a girl with him, who he should hate but he seemed to, well, not. 

It had all unfolded so suddenly, the defeat, and suddenly he remembered bits and pieces. 

He’d betrayed camp half blood, the only home that he had known, but only so the gods would pay attention to them, be better parents. But what he was doing now wasn’t what he had wanted. Not at all. 

He supposed it was an easy decision to make when the boy - ….. Percy - told him to stab himself in the armpit. 

He did and finally, in the deadly silence, he was himself again. He was Luke Castellan. A demigod, a child of Hermes. A lot of other things. 

For a moment all he could see was the blonde girl whose name he couldn’t remember, that stared at him as he began to writhe in pain. The same blonde girl he couldn’t seem to hate, who he seemed to be soft for. 

A lot of other faces stared too, who seemed to be familiar to him but he couldn’t place. 

And then there was screaming. Loud, pained screams and running footsteps and a panic rose inside of him. He knew that scream, although he’d rarely heard it. 

And there was you, y/n. A face and voice he instantly knew, that he would remember half-dead, which ironically reflected the place he was in now. 

You were as beautiful as he remembered, even now, your face contorted, grimy, tears streaming, your hair a sweaty mess. 

“No, I can heal him, I can heal him.” You sobbed, kneeling beside him and trying to staunch the bleeding which he could oddly not feel. 

He hated seeing you like this. So sad, hurt, in pain. Knowing there was nothing he could do to improve it made it even worse. 

He reached for your hand, squeezing it and attempting a weak smile. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you, because you never deserved it. And-“ he coughed, dust in his lungs. 

“I love you.” He said, loud and clear for the world to hear. He wanted to say more, but his chest was weak. 

It was only them for that moment. You dove in and kissed him, just as passionately as he had that final night. It took his breath away, and he found himself grinning, joyous, at peace. 

It was a goodbye, but he didn’t know that.

[bruisedboys]

🍓 “good girl.” With Remus

okay so I took a completely different approach on this one and did dad!remus … hope u still like it angel!! and thank you for the request 🤍

summary: yours and remus’ daughter, daisy, throws a mini tantrum. remus handles it like a champ

mum!reader 0.8k words

Yours and Remus’s daughter looks exactly like you. If you were four years old and quite a bit smaller. She’s got your eyes, your skin tone, your lovely hair. Even her nose is a carbon copy of yours. Remus would be jealous if she wasn’t so pretty. He’s always wanted a kid that looks like him, but one that looks like you is even better.

She’s got a grumpy face that’s shockingly similar to yours, too. She’s pulling it now, sitting on the kitchen bench with her legs swinging and her arms crossed, scowling at Remus so fiercely it’s almost not cute. Almost.

“Daisy girl,” he says patiently. He never wants to lose his patience with her. Ever. Even now, when he’s unhappy with her because she’d shouted at you when you were just trying to help. “You made your mum real upset, you know that?”

Daisy shakes her head vigorously and shouts, “No!”

Remus doesn’t know what she’s saying no to and isn’t sure she knows, either. He sighs.

“No what, baby?” He asks. One of Daisy’s kicking legs catches him in the thigh and he sets a hand over her knee to stop the movement. He squeezes her soft, squishy thigh gently, to let her know he’s not mad. She’s so small his fingers spread all the way to her hip.

She visibly softens under her touch. Her bottom lip wobbles. “No,” she says again, less angry and far more sad.

Daisy promptly bursts into tears. Remus’s heart cracks into a million pieces. Sure, he’s not happy about the shouting, but seeing his little girl cry never fails to break his poor heart.

It only gets worse from there. Daisy starts wailing. Remus has no choice but to scoop her up in his arms and hold her to his chest as if that will glue his heart back together.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he soothes. He holds her with one arm under her butt while his free hand rubs small circles on her back. “Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Daisy cries and cries and cries. Remus knows you’re gonna appear before you do. You’re not very much stronger than him, when it comes to Daisy’s cries.

You’ve got a look on your face close to heartbreak as you appear in the kitchen doorway. Remus has a funny feeling you’ve been standing just out of sight this whole time. He meets your eyes and frowns.

“Dais,” he says softly into her ear. She’s still crying, shaking from the sobs, but she’s quieter now. She really does sound very sad. “Mummy’s back now. Did you want to say sorry?”

Daisy calms down enough to pull away slightly and look Remus in the eyes. Her face all wet and flushed, eyelashes sticking together, cheeks hot and pink. Remus doesn’t like it one bit. He uses his thumb to push away her sticky tear tracks as she nods.

“Yes,” she says hoarsely, her breaths shaky like they always are when she cries like this.

Remus smiles at her softly. “Okay, then.”

He carries her over to you and she hides in his neck on the way over. Her face is warm and wet on his skin. He can hear every little tremble in her breathing and it takes everything he has not to break down crying himself.

He encourages Daisy out of her hiding place once he’s close to you. She appears, all tear-streaked and so very sad. Remus props her higher on his hip and twists his shoulders so she’s facing you.

“Good girl,” he says to her, softly, encouraging. He strokes a thumb over her hip. “Go on.”

Daisy is quiet for a moment. Then,

“M’sorry, mummy,” she says, quiet as a mouse but so sincere it has both Remus and you smiling like idiots.

“Aw, that’s okay, sweetheart,” you say, never one to hold grudges. You hold your arms out for her and she goes to you immediately.

Remus watches with so much love it hurts as you wrap her up tightly and lay kiss after kiss to her head.

“It’s alright, baby,” you say sweetly. “You know I just wanted to help you, yeah?”

Daisy nods into your shoulder. Remus feels a rush of pride that at least something he’d said to her had stuck.

“I understand that I made you mad, though. I should’ve explained better.” You pull back and Daisy follows suit. You look her in the eyes and smile softly. “I’m sorry, too.”

Daisy falls right back into your chest. “That’s okay, mama.”

You smile so big Remus is sure it aches, your hand rubbing her back soothingly. You meet Remus’s eyes over Daisy’s shoulder, a look on your face that says thank you.

Remus kisses you in lieu of a you’re welcome.

-

[kondensaduhhh]

inspired by @dirtytransmasc ‘s Spider Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan AU

where, since because this Spider grew up being fully adopted and loved by the Sully family, the ‘son for a son scene’ where Neytiri holds a knife to Spider doesn’t happen, what happens instead is a ‘if I can’t have him, no one can’ scene with Quaritch, where instead of Quaritch getting a hold of Kiri, it’s Spider.

Everyone is frozen.

Kiri is holding Tuk, Jake being torn between shooting Miles, but risk shooting his son too, and obeying his demands. Lo’ak and Neteyam are there, a few scrapes, cuts, and bruises on them but otherwise whole. Jake holds out his arm in front of his other two sons, knowing his mate’s burning desire to protect pumps in their veins, ready to lunge.

And Neytiri is prowling.

That demon has her son, her firstborn under his sharp knife, already cutting his delicate skin, she sees his blood smear with each struggle, causing a growl deep within her throat. Every bone in her body aches to lunge and attack the monster hurting her baby, but her mate’s arm stops her, she sees the pleading look in his eyes that yells, ‘please, think clearly’. She wants to scream, she needs to do something, but the situation is much too delicate to take such a risk.

“What will it be, kid?” Quaritch says, knife still against Spider neck, “The Sullys, who left you, abandoned you for months?” cries of protest from his siblings at the words spoken, “or me? who took care of you after they left you for dead?”

With no breath of hesitation in his voice, “Them! They’re my family! Not you! Never you!” Spider screams. Irritation pinches Quaritch’s face, he sets his jaw, “Then so be it.” and he cuts.

He cuts through Spider’s jugular, leaving to fall, blood sputtering through his fingers as he tries to add pressure. Everyone screams, scrambling to help Spider. The demon walks away with a limp in his step.

“Lyle, blow this pla-“ short, rapid fire gunshots, cut through everyones eardrums, the Sullys’ attention snapped to the cause of the beast’s death for a second. They were met with the image of Neteyam, gun in his arms, tears in his eyes, he drops it immediately and rushes to Spider’s side.

“Neteyam…” Kiri holds her hand out to him, her voice watery and scared, he takes her hand, and inches closer towards his brother, Tuk tucks herself onto him, wailing onto his chest, Lo’ak has both hands pressing on Spider’s neck, their dad is speaking softly to him, stroking his hair, while their mother is begging for Eywa to keep her son alive, to not take him away from them, from her, no, not yet

Spider is apologizing and they don’t know why, they just hold on to him and their siblings, “im sorry, im sorry… i love you, im sorry,” he coughs, blood splatters on his mask, dripping down the sides of his lips, “i just wanted to sa-…” He closes his eyes. The it’s like the world stopped spinning, everyone is silent, waiting for Spider to keep talking, because he always does, he always has something to say, but Jake has hung his head already.

Kiri was the first to talk Spider, “Monkey boy? Spider? Spider, what is it? Spider! What were gonna say?!” her voice gets shakier as she talks, her voice breaks at the end along it is her, curling into Spider’s chest.

“Spider? Wake up! C’mon, you’re scaring me!” Tuk, oh, little Tuk-tuk, she pleads, “Neteyam, do something!” She sobs. Neteyam can’t fix this one, he can’t lead them on this one, Neteyam doesn’t know what to do, instead her cries, not quietly, like Lo’ak, who is staring at his hands, covered in Spider’s blood, tears just running down his cheeks, but also not loudly, like Kiri, who demanding answers from the Great Mother, he just… cries. Holding the rest of his siblings in his arms.

Jake is on the opposite side of his children on Spider’s body, he wants to wipe away the tears and blood off of his son’s face, to remove the mask and clean his face off, he tries, but his daughters’ panicked screams of ‘Stop! He can’t breath with out it!” broke his heart further. Lo’ak cries like him, quiet, almost catatonic, a contrast to his mate who has screamed and wailed for it to not be true, sobbing for Eywa to not do this to them. With no protest fro Kiri, and little from Tuk, Neytiri holds Spider, sobbing louder when his body that was always warm, especially compared to their na’vi bodies, was starting to cool. Kiri and Tuk held onto their mother as they cried.

Jake neared his mate, gently pulling her towards him, as their remaining sons was held by their father, both boys leaning on Jake.

continuation

[ariisheresstuff]

THIS is SOOOO Richie when he’s watching yours and Camry’s daughter. Like y’all are out for a small date night and Richie is watching her maybe with Sydney to keep more company by and they are just joking around until she starts crying 💀

Richie and Sydney were babysitting Kennedy while you and Carmen were out on a little dinner date. Kennedy ALWAYS loved when her Uncle Richie would watch her. Kennedy was sitting on Sydney’s lap while Richie was sitting across from them by the dinner table. Now with Kennedy being around Richie so much she does inhabit his traits (mostly the cursing).

“Uncle Richie you’re a bitch!” Kennedy said out of nowhere with a smile making Sydney gape at Richie who just had wide eyes. Sydney tried to hide in her laughter as Richie started to smirk.

“You’re really gonna take that Richie?” Sydney said making Kennedy laugh.

“Well jokes on you kid because I’m telling on you! I’m telling your mommy and daddy when they come back! HAHA! You’re going to jail! Put your hands up!” Richie said in a deep voice like he was commanding Kennedy like a police officer. Sydney couldn’t help but laugh, but Kennedy’s smile dropped.

“J-jail? No! I-I I don’t w-wanna go to jail!! WAHHHH!!!!” Kennedy starting to wail making Richie wheeze in laughter while Sydney started to panic not thinking this was gonna upset poor Kennedy.

“Richie! Okay, it’s okay! Hey, Richie was just joking Kennedy, you’re not going to jail. I promise you. Your Uncle is just being stupid.” Sydney cooed to Kennedy who was still crying.

“Oh come on Kennedy, I was just teasing with you.” Richie joined in on the comfort but only for the front door to open.

“We’re home!” Carmen announced making Sydney and Richie freeze. Kennedy still crying.

“D-daddy! Mommy!” Kennedy said between sobs as she got off of Sydney’s lap to run to her parents.

You and Carmen smiled seeing your daughter only for them to drop once you noticed she was crying.

“Kenzie girl, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Carmen immediately picked her up trying to comfort his daughter, he hated seeing her so upset.

“Did you hurt yourself baby?” You asked her as you searched for any cuts or blood. She shook her head as she hiccuped while Carmen wiped away the tears on her face and kissing her damp cheek.

“U-Uncle Richie told me I-I was going to jail!” She said with a pouted lip, you can Carmen looked at each other with a small smile.

“Oh did he? That’s not very nice, is it bubs?” You said as she laid her head down on her father’s shoulder while Carmy rubbed her back. Just out of nowhere Richie and Sydney walked into the living room.

“Cousin, she told me I was a bitch so I told her the cops were coming to get her for saying that but she knows I joke like that!” Richie said with a frown making you laugh a bit but making Carmen roll his eyes.

“Did you say a bad word Kennedy?” He asked her as she looked at you before hiding her face clearly meaning she did. You sighed with a smile before looking at Carmen who shook his head with a light smile.

“Kennedy, me and mommy aren’t mad at you. But you know you can’t say those things especially to Uncle Richie.” Carmen said that last part while glaring at Richie who gave him the bird.

Kennedy put her head up as she looked at Richie, she sniffled. “Uncle Richie, m’sorry I said that to you.” You couldn’t help but awe at that. Richie smiled before walking up to her and taking Kennedy out of Carmen’s arms and into his .

“Oh I could never stay mad at you Kenz, the best niece in the world.” He threw her up in the air making her squeal as she smiled and laughed with her Uncle.

You and Carmen smiled before walking over to Sydney who had her arms crossed, you looked behind you making sure Richie and your daughter weren’t paying attention.

“So did you record it by any chance?” You said in a whisper making Carmen look at you with a frown.

“I actually did.” Sydney smirked before pulling out her phone to send it to you.

MasterList

Tag list: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

[footprintsinthesxnd]

You’re My Girl

Rhett Abbott x reader

Synopsis: Rhett has always been stubborn and will stop at nothing to ride at the rodeo even with an injury. But after a fight with his wife leads to her being injured Rhett realised what is more important to him.

Warnings: mentions of injury, swearing, couples fighting, descriptions of hospitals

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS?” Rhett shouted, shoving his chair harshly under the wooden kitchen table. “YOU’RE KIDDING ME!”

“Rhett, please just listen. I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what? You can’t ask me to not ride. You know how much this means to me.” Rhett sighed, running his hand through his unruly brown locks, “when we got married you promised you’d support me in everything. You promised and…”

“I DO SUPPORT YOU, RHETT!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your face, your voice hoarse from arguing with your stubborn husband. Rhett had injured his back hauling bales in the barn but refused to back out of the rodeo on Friday. You loved your husband dearly but he was stubborn as hell when he wanted to be and this was one of those times. Rhett paced back and forth in front of the table, his boots hitting the wooden floor aggressively. You knew you were pushing your luck but you desperately wanted Rhett to rest up. He’d been on strong pain medication from the doctor so he could get out of bed in the morning but he wouldn't stop. How was he expecting to ride a bull? You stood from your seat, rounding the table and coming face to face with him. “Rhett, please. I’m not trying to hold you back, I’m trying to help you. Your back has had you in agony all week. Please just miss this one out, rest up for the week and maybe you can ride the following week. I love you and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Rhett glared at you as you reached towards him but he stepped back, holding his hand up to stop you. “I need this win and you know that better than anyone. I can’t believe you’d ask this of me.” He grabbed his hat from the table and stormed out the front door. You watched as the door ricocheted into the wall with a loud thud. Sinking back into your chair, your heart sunk and you finally allowed yourself to cry, shoulders shaking as you released the sob you’d been suppressing. You’d always hated arguing with Rhett, it wasn’t that his temper scared you, he was known for being fiery, you just hated seeing him hurting. The footsteps shuffling behind you made you turn as Perry and Cecila poked their heads around the corner, looking at you expectantly. You just shook your head, watching as your tears fell onto the table, seeping into the wood like the ink on the pages from the love letters Rhett had sent you. He’d always write you a little note before each of his rides, telling you how much he loved you. It was how he’d proposed. He wrote you a note and told you to read it when he’d won and as the scores came up on the board you’d read it, ‘will you be my girl?’ You had looked up over the crowds of heads to where Rhett stood in the arena, ring box in hand as he shouted, “so what’s your answer, Darlin’.” You smiled at the memory. Those had been happier days when everything was less stressful. Now you had to worry about the Tillerson’s advances on Abbott land, the fact that Perry had killed Trevor, the fact that your husband was on a suicide mission, let alone the secret you’d been keeping for weeks. Cecilia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You did everything you could, my Rhett’s stubborn sometimes. He will never learn.”

“But what if it’s not enough,” you wailed, looking helplessly at your mother-in-law. “What if it’s not enough?”

——————————————————————————

The rodeo arena was packed when you arrived and you struggled to find a seat where you could all sit. In the end, Perry had to balance Amy on his knee while you and Cecilia squished on either side of him. You wanted to see Rhett before he rode but Cecelia advised you against it.

“You know how he gets when he’s like this. There ain’t no good trying to talk him out of it.” She was right of course, she was his mother after all but you could help the growing discomfort in your stomach as you wait for him to ride. Royal had gone down to see him and you could see the two men talking. Rhett looked uncomfortable and Royal kept trying to support his son but in true Rhett fashion, he pushed the help away. You fiddled with the sleeve of your jacket nervously, watching as more and more people flooded into the already packed arena. By the time Rhett was ready to ride you were a nervous wreck, palms sweating and heart racing. You’d had to stop yourself multiple times from getting up to tell the judges that Rhett was injured and couldn’t compete but you knew if you did that he'd never forgive you. You watched as the bull hurtled out into the arena, throwing your husband around like a rag doll. Perry gripped your hand tightly and you squeezed it in return as a thank you. He knew how stressed you felt when Rhett rode and although he was generally awkward around you he always tried to comfort you in times like these. As the buzzer sounded you let out the breath you’d been holding, relieved that his first ride of the night was over. Cecelia went to grab some drinks, while Perry and Amy chatted amongst themselves. You got up from your seat, moving down to the metal railings to try and catch another glimpse of Rhett. He was talking to one of the other riders but you could tell by the way he was standing that his back was causing his pain. You were so caught up in what Rhett was doing that we didn’t see the loose bull come charging out into the crowds. People were shouting, pushing and shoving to escape the animal's wrath. The crowd swarmed towards you, shoving you harshly against the railings. Pushing with all your might you freed yourself, tripping and falling into the dust below with an almighty crack, your arm bent underneath you as your head connected with the ground. Searing pain shot up your arm, burning through you as you gasped for air. It was complete agony. Your arm hung limply at your side as you rolled over, avoiding people’s footsteps and propping yourself up against the railings. You could hear the Bullfighters herding the bull back into the chute, thudding hooves against the rough ground and shouts of men filling the evening sky. You blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings but the pain caused your mind to fog, eyes blurry as you tried to make out your surroundings. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear Rhett’s voice calling your name. You called out to him weakly, willing him to find you. The blurry figure approached you, kneeling and grabbing your face in their hands. You knew it was Rhett, even without seeing him you knew. Your body responded to his touch and you tried to sit forward but he held onto you, stilling your movements. Rhett's voice was full of anxiety as he spoke to you, his voice wavering as he tried to keep his emotions at bay. He pulled you into his lap cradling you close to his chest as he whispered to you comfortingly. “It’s ok, Baby Girl I’ve got you Darlin’. It’s gonna be ok.” You could hear him shouting frantically to Perry and the second set of legs appeared next to you. Everything was muffled and the pain in your arm only progressed until it was blinding, everything was growing darker and all you could hear was Rhett’s voice fading into the distance.

——————————————————————————

Rhett had never been so scared in his whole life when he saw you collapse against the railings as the crowds of people pushed past. He’d run like his life depended on it, bringing you into his arms and cradling you against him. You had a large gash on your forehead and you held your arm against you, whimpering softly as he maneuvered you into a more comfortable position. Everything had happened so fast and before he knew it you were led in the backseat of Perry’s truck heading to the nearest hospital, his final ride completely forgotten. You looked so pale and Rhett felt helpless as you lay unconscious in his arms. Cecilia had ordered him to keep pressure on the cut on your head and the bleeding had now slowed. His mother had given him a small smile before he got into the truck. “She’ll be ok Rhett, she’s a fighter.” Those words circled around Rhett’s head as he watched your lifeless frame. Rhett shouted at Perry to drive faster which caused his brother to run three red lights and nearly got them killed crossing a junction. ——————————————————————————

The hospital was quiet when they arrived and a nurse ushered them straight into a room where Rhett placed you carefully onto the crisp white sheet. You looked as sickly pale and Rhett gulped audibly, trying to control his ragged breathing. The on-call doctor soon arrived and began asking questions but Rhett couldn’t concentrate, his brown eyes stayed fixed on your feeble frame. Perry spoke to the doctor but all his words jumbled into one, the harsh beeping of the heart monitor, the chatter of the doctor and Perry, and the buzzing, flickering light above your bed all blurred into white noise. Perry had to all but drag Rhett out of your room. “You gotta let the doctors do their work, Rhett. You're no good to her now.”

In the waiting room, Rhett sank into the squeaky chair. It had been well used with rips and the leather flaking and Rhett wondered how many family members had sat in this waiting room, just waiting for the news of their family. How many people had cried and mourned, how many had celebrated? Rhett had always wondered what it must be like sitting in the waiting room, wondering how people had felt. He had never been on this side of an accident, normally it was him led in that hospital bed while you sat here fretting. He hated that he’d put you through this feeling time and time again.

The room was no bigger than the hay barn of the ranch and was well-lit with fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling. Rhett's adrenaline from the evening was dimming and he could feel his eyes trying to slip closed but between the bright lights and Perry’s leg tapping incessantly against the floor he had little hope of the rest he was seeking. It felt like an eternity before the doctor appeared in the doorway, white coat on and clipboard in hand. “Mr Abbott?” The tall elderly doctor asked. Rhett could tell by his uninterested tone that he’d been doing this for years, he didn’t even bother looking up from his notes. “Your wife sustained a transverse fracture to her right arm, several broken ribs and she has a concussion.” He continued reeling off medical jargon that left Rhett staring blankly at him, trying to comprehend the complex terminology. “She will be fine and the baby looks to be fine too.” Rhett’s heart stopped. The baby? The doctor left swiftly, leaving Rhett staring into the abyss.

“Rhett, you good?” Perry placed a hand on his brother's shoulders, watching as he swayed a little, with the adrenaline gone and the shock of the news Rhett’s knees buckled and Perry steered his brother back towards the chair. Rhett’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to regain his composure, trying to calm his nerves before facing you. How did this happen? Rhett knew very well how it happened. After his last rodeo win, he snuck with you to his truck. He always felt horny after a win but this time it was different, you were just as mad for him as he was for you. Rhett thought back to that passionate night, windows steamed, naked frames pressed together, your soft whimpers as he pounded into you seeking his release. Rhett’s face was a little flushed when he looked back up at his brother. “I’ve gotta see her.” With that he stood, taking long strides across the room and out into the hallway.

——————————————————————————

As Rhett entered the room he couldn’t help the tears that pricked his blue eyes. You were sat up in bed, plum-coloured bruises littering your face, stitches placed in a neat line along the cut on your forehead and your right arm balanced in a sling. Due to having broken ribs, the expansion of your chest was feeble, but you still gave your husband a small smile.

“Rhett,” you whispered and he was by your side in an instant, clutching tightly onto your left hand. “Oh god Baby Girl, I’m so sorry.” Rhett could feel pressure building behind his eyes as the tears threatened to fall. He tried to blink them away and stay focused on you, but the tears trickled down his face regardless. You could tell he was doing his best to keep his emotions at bay. He was trying to be strong for you like he always did.

“It’s not your fault,” your voice was weak and croaky and Rhett instantly reached to give you a glass of water which you accepted and drank gratefully.

“This should never have happened. It’s my damn fault, if I hadn't been so stubborn we wouldn’t have even been there and you would have been ok.” Rhett was trying to reason with you but you just shook your head.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Baby. I never want you to feel like I’m holding you back, I only want what’s best for you and I want you to be safe.” You were crying now too so Rhett perched on the edge of your bed, pulling you close as you cried into his shirt. “Shh, don’t cry Darlin’, it’s all gonna be ok.” Rhett couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the baby. It was such a foreign thought to him. A baby. You were having a baby and he would be a father. Ever since you two had started dating you both knew you wanted a family, but after several years of marriage and nothing to show for it, Rhett had assumed that it wasn’t on the cards for you both and he’d accepted that. He was just glad that he had you. When you composed yourself a little, you pulled away to face your husband. “I’m so sorry… I d-didn’t tell you about the b-baby,” you stuttered, still trying to catch your breath from crying.

“It’s ok, Baby Girl, it’s ok. I was just a little surprised, that's all.”

“I was going to tell you after you won tonight, well I was going to tell you even if you didn’t win but I knew you’d win,” you laughed lightly, “but then you hurt your back and I was scared you ride and hurt yourself and I’d lose you and be on my own and…” you continued to ramble but Rhett stopped you, pressing his lips firmly to yours. You melted into him, gripping hold of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, cradling the back of your head gently.

“You're never gonna lose me ok, Baby Girl.” You smiled at the nickname he’d given you when you first started dating. “You're my girl, remember.”

“I’m your girl,” you repeated, taking his hand and placing it against your still-flat stomach. “You know soon you might have two girls.” Rhett chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and laying you both back against the hospital bed. “Maybe I will but don’t worry, you’ll always be my best girl.”

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @alexxavicry @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @sunlightmurdock @basiccortez @airedale17 @callmemana @shadowolf993 @t-nd-rfoot @topguncultleader @flyboyjake @rhettabbotts @hederasgarden

[daisies-daydreams]

hello! ^^ would you be up for writing some Gaz/Price hurt/comfort? The details I'll leave up to you and your wonderfully creative brain, I'm sure I'll love anything you write :3

-🧡

Everything's Alright (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x F!Reader)

Pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x F!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Depictions of Infertility, Low Self-Esteem, Nudity (non-sexual), Swearing Word Count: TBA A/N: Hi there! Thank you very much for your request. I honestly feel like I haven't written for Gaz as much - so I'm glad to see a request for him in my inbox! I hope you enjoy! Song Rec: Everything's Alright (Laura Shigihara - To the Moon OST)

You flinched when you felt someone lay a hand on your shoulder.

"Thought I'd find you out here," your husband, Kyle, drawled with a soft look in his eyes. You sniffed and wiped at your puffy cheeks as you turned your attention back to the crystal blue lake lapping at the sandy shore.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. You remained silent, your voice long gone from the wailing that echoed through the small lakeside cabin for hours on end. You eventually gave a small nod as you pulled your knees up to your chest, your long dress billowing in the cool summer wind. Kyle grunted as he sat next to you on the porch swing, the windchimes hanging just above your heads singing as a strong breeze passed through the valley. A heavy silence remained between the two of you as you gently swayed on the swing.

"I'm so sorry," you gulped and rested your forehead on your knees. Kyle turned to you. You tensed as he laid a hand on your upper back and rubbed it tenderly. You choked on another sob as you shook your head. "I-I thought that it would really work this time," you cried as you clutched the negative pregnancy test in your fist. Your husband suddenly pulled you into his side, your tears soaking his soft, dark t-shirt all the way through. A low rumble rose from his chest as he stroked his fingers through your hair and pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," you repeated as you trembled in his arms. Kyle hushed you as he continued to delicately brush your hair.

"It's alright. We'll just try again next-" you shook your head as you curled his shirt in your other fist. You gritted your teeth as you desperately fought the urge to scream into his chest.

"I don't want to, Kyle," you choked. He immediately rested a hand on your lower back as you clenched your jaw. "I'm not ready to be disappointed again...to disappoint you again," you confessed with a heavy sob. Your husband pulled back a little, his dark brows furrowed.

"Honey...what are you talking about? You've never disappointed me," he frowned while brushing a strand of messy hair from your face. You sniffled and shook your head.

"I just...we've been trying to have a baby for so long, Ky," you sighed while bracing your hands on his chest. Your husband's brows remained knitted together as you took a deep breath. "You've always wanted a family of your own, and I-I can't give that to you," your eyes burned as more tears rolled down your cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry..." you said with a broken cry. Kyle shook his head as he suddenly pulled you onto his lap, his lips gently pressed to your temple as he cooed.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, love," your beloved whispered. His words did little to comfort your aching heart as your body grew unbearably heavy. The porch swing continued to sway in the summer winds as the sky began to dance with bright oranges and navy blues. "You've done nothing wrong, (Y/N)," Kyle continued before peppering your face with soft kisses. You sighed heavily as you kept your hands on his body.

"B-But you've always wanted kids of your own," you muttered with a frown. Kyle hummed as he stroked your arm and lower back.

"I did always say that...but - look at me," he said a bit firmly. You refused to gaze into his eyes, a small part of you still afraid that your husband would be staring at you in disgust. You swallowed thickly before shifting your gaze, your heart melting a little when you met his soft, brown eyes. Kyle grinned before he pecked your forehead. He sighed as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Just because we haven't been able to have kids of our own doesn't make me think any less of you," he whispered softly. Your cheeks warmed while your heart skipped a beat. "I didn't marry you just to have some kids, (Y/N). I married you because you're witty," he kissed your nose. "Compassionate," his lips found purchase on your cheek before he cupped your face. "And overall...the most wonderful woman I've ever met," Kyle murmured before planting a tender kiss to your lips. You sighed and relaxed in his arms as you rested a hand on his shoulder, your warm lips dancing with his in a slow, sweet dance. You sighed as the two of you parted.

"I thought you said you married me because I had a nice ass?" you raised a brow while trying to break the tension inside you. Kyle blinked before a small chuckle escaped his lips.

"I was drunk when I said that, lovie," he explained. "But that might be another reason," Kyle added with a wink. You rolled your eyes as he laughed. His cheerful expression slowly shifted as he took a deep breath. "How are you feeling now?" he asked with a gentle voice. You sighed and shifted in his lap.

"A little better, but not one-hundred percent," you frowned while smoothing your hands over his shoulders. Kyle hummed as he rested his hands on your hips.

"That's understandable," he said. You nodded and looked away, the voice of shame still reverberating inside your mind. You gasped when Kyle suddenly picked you up bridal style and started to make his way inside.

"Ky?" you blinked as he marched through the double doors and made a sharp turn towards the master bedroom. You tilted your head when he set you down on the edge of the tub. His expression was still soft as he turned on the faucet, his lips curled into an eager smile as his eyes lit up.

"Would you let me pamper you tonight, lovie?" he cooed before taking your hand and pressing his lips to your knuckles. Your cheeks flushed as a small smile crept over your features.

"Oh, Kyle," you breathed before pulling him into a tight hug. Your husband chuckled softly as he kissed your temple. You sighed as he rolled your dress above your shoulders, his eyes soft and lit with pure affection while he helped you undress. Soon both of your sets of clothes were piled onto the floor before he turned off the faucet.

"M'lady," Kyle said as he took your hand and ushered you into the tub.

"Thank you, Sir Garrick," you giggled as he helped you in. You sighed as the warm water surrounded your skin, drawing you to sink further into the tub. Kyle hummed as he slipped in behind you, his muscular legs on either side of your body as you leaned back. Your heart fluttered as your husband wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his nose into the back of your head.

"Kyle?" you piped up. Your beloved grunted in reply as he continued to hold you. You bit your lip as you took a deep breath. "Did you really mean what you said on the deck?" you asked, your voice wavering as a lump swelled in your throat. Kyle shifted behind you, his warm breath falling over your shoulder as he sighed.

"Of course I did, baby," he murmured before planting a soft peck to your exposed skin. "Each and every word," he continued while lovingly stroking your arms. You swallowed with a quiet nod. "You still having thoughts about it?" Kyle whispered into your ear. Your throat tightened as you dipped your head down.

"Yeah," you simply replied. Your beloved nodded before resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You still wanna talk about it?" he asked. You sighed heavily and watched the water ripple around your legs.

"I...I don't know," you confessed before closing your eyes. You felt him nod again before he reached over and grabbed the luffa.

"Why don't I scrub your back for you, hm?" he suggested with a gentle tone. You cracked a small grin before you leaned forward.

"That sounds wonderful," you beamed. Kyle returned your smile before he spread some rose-scented body wash onto the plush luffa. You closed your eyes as he began to gently scrub your back, each stroke leaving your muscles more and more relaxed. You smiled as he poured water onto your back, the sound lulling you closer to sleep.

"You want me to keep going?" Kyle asked. You slowly opened your eyes and yawned.

"If you want to," you said. Your husband clicked his tongue.

"Doesn't matter what I want right now: tonight's about pampering you," he said with a slow peck on your cheek. You smiled tiredly as your body began to feel heavy.

"Could we...could we get out and cuddle in bed instead?" you asked. Kyle chuckled as he set the luffa aside.

"Absolutely," he grinned. You squealed as he picked you up bridal style again before wrapping a fresh, fluffy towel around you. You watched as he unplugged the drain before wrapping a towel around his waist.

The two of you shuffled into the bedroom, the ceiling fan humming lowly as you dried yourselves off. You smiled as you slipped beneath the comforter, your eyelids growing heavier by the second as your husband shuffled in beside you. You rested your head against his chest as he wrapped his toned arms around you and hooked his ankle over yours. Your mind began to drift as you listened to the steady beating of his heart.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Kyle murmured while mindlessly tracing shapes against your upper back. You opened your eyes and glanced up, smiling as you kissed his warm, plush lips.

"I love you, too, Ky," you whispered back. Soon enough, the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms, the warmth and love from your husband filling the empty cracks in your heart as you drifted off to sleep.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @lavenderbabu @thedevax @famouscattale @spktrgantenk @zombieblogx @mrswhitethornbelikov @migueloharastruelove @galaxy-dusk @samanthashadowriley @theloneshadow24 @xxkay15xx @inspace1 @manlikemilesmyguy @ghostslynx @synamonthy @oharasfilipinawife @scaleniusrm @jotarossshark @acotarobbsessed @8xbygirl @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @lyrasdrawer @rinverse

Want to be a part of my taglist? Comment down below! (MUST BE 18 OR OLDER)

[justali-anne]

I love the idea of UPPERCASE and lowercase skeletons. You know, like how Handplates does it.

I love how the brothers are opposites when it comes to that as well.

Like, I've already mentioned before that the fandom agrees that Papyrus is loud. What if we go further and say that pretty much everything he does is loud? He stomps around everywhere, even when he doesn't mean to, he can't control the volume of his voice, his laughing, his crying, snoring etc... all loud. Heck, even when he's trying to be quiet! Like whispering would be pretty hard for him because it just sounds like a shout-whisper. Ma boi is NOT stealthy at all! What if he's a little self-conscious about some of it, though? Not his voice, of course. After all, why would The Great Papyrus be anything BUT loud and proud when speaking? But it's okay to be self-conscious of loud snoring and chewing.

Sans, on the other hand, is quiet and soft-spoken. He has a little bit of an accent, he strings words together... But what if everything Sans does is quiet? Like, his laughs are little chuckles and giggles that could escalate to silent laughter and wheezing when he's hysterical, for example. He wouldn't wail or sob on the rare occasions that he would cry either, it's more like quiet sniffles and silent tears, maybe the occasional hiccup. Sort of like that.

Ooh, and what about them as kids? What would they sound like as kids? Imagine little Papyrus being talkative, shrill and shrieky with a little baby voice! Imagine adults telling him to shut up or be quiet every so often, but Papyrus still has a hard time recognising or controlling his own volume. Poor boy...

Imagine little Sans with such a quiet and mumbly voice that he's borderline unintelligible, especially as a young child. People always told him to speak up and enunciate and stuff... Eventually, he would start forcing himself to be a bit louder so people can understand him. So he kinda stuck to that as an adult, but sometimes it slips back to his natural soft-spokenness.

Okay, this is getting into headcanon territory now, but that's what this post is about, so... 🤷🏻‍♂️

[buddhamethods]

10 BL Characters I Want Carnally

AKA I'm just a person with two keen eyes and dubious morals when it comes to enjoying media so don't take it seriously, I'm here for a good time.

Thank you @sndrys for tagging me! This was an eye opening experience putting this together. As it turns out I might have a type (ew).

1) Guy from Bake Me Please (2023)

The sole reason for me creating this list! Look, I dropped Bake Me Please almost immediately because it just wasn't for me BUT I've been lowkey watching through my dash. And let me tell you, my fingers gain consciousness and hit reblog everytime this baby's face pops up because...well...LOOK AT HIM. He is beautiful and he should get the guy (hehe get it) in the end idc.

2) Yok from Not Me (2021)

Yok is such a beloved character and for good reason! He is sexy, he is gay, he sets buildings on fire and steals cops' wallets on accident because HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT GUY HE WAS STALKING WAS A COP??? I love you Yok, never change.

3) Palm from Never Let Me Go/ OurSkyy2 (2022-23)

The anger I felt for all the injustice and mistreatment our beautiful Palm had to face in this show took literal years off my life. It's rare for me to get this passionately protective over a character and yet here we are, in the Palm Protection Squad headquarters. Even Nueng is on the watchlist!

4) Tonhon from Tonhon Chonlatee (2020)

Not to out myself as an enjoyer of silly goofy times , but I did have fun watching Fish Upon The Sky and Secret Crush On You, so OFCOURSE I thought I would like this one too but GOD was it rough. Did I still finish it? Yes. Did I fawn over PoddKhao pairing and have been quietly praying for some kind of reunion ever since? Also yes. Was I foaming at the mouth barking everytime Tonhon AKA Podd was on my screen? I'm not gonna comment without lawyer present.

5) Tew from My Dear Gangster Oppa (2023)

Speaking of Tonhon Chonlatee...AH! Ai Long Nhai (TC's spiritual prequel of sorts) was sure...something. And by something I mean I saw Meen and decided I will never speak ill of men ever again, feminism quite literally left my body. And then a year later My Dear Gangster Oppa came out and guess what??! MEEN IS THE GANGSTER OPPA! Dreams really do come true, kids.

6) Wen from Moonlight Chicken (2023)

(or Tian from ATOATS or Mueang Nan fron FUTS). Mix...I will eat you. Always so dewy and healthy and sparkly-eyed. But Wen from Moonlight Chicken is something out of the realm of my imagination. The sex appeal? The maturity?? The gentleness??!! Somebody sedate me before I say something I will not be able to justify in court.

7) Vee from Love Mechanics (2022)

He is a pretty bisexual who makes the most abhorrent stupid decisions known to men and then weeps and suffers for them WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED? Once again, is the show flawless or even remotely coherent? Absolutely not. That being said Vee brought me so much joy by being stupid I'm forever grateful.

(also YinWar are so back GO WATCH JACK AND JOKER TRAILER)

8) Prapai from Love In The Air (2022)

To a certain extent I've enjoyed every MAME show I've watched. To do that you need to possess the rare ability called "I abandoned every shred of moral integrity to gawk at hot men". And Prapai? MAN is this bitch hot. Tall dark handsome? Check! Bisexual on a bike? Check! Stubborn and annoying? CHECK!

9) Xiang Hao Ting from HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (2019)

*incoherent wailing and sobbing* IM NOT EXPLAINING SHIT ABOUT HIM LEAVE ME ALONE

10) AlanJeff from Pit Babe (2023)

My newest obsession! I refuse to separate our local senior citizen and his favorite prophetic mechanic. Both of them are hot as shit in their own way. Alan is a sexy dilf with so much weight and responsibility on his shoulders it's a miracle he retained his optimism and youthful awkwardness. And Jeff is a prickly baby-cow-baby-deer eyed baby that is so touch starved it's actually a little funny. SO I GUESS ALANJEFF SANDWICH IT IS.

(don't be shy tag yourselves besties <3)

[slitheringghost]

Do you have a Sirius rec list? Please & thank you

with the words going out like cells of a brain by orphan_account (James/Sirius/Remus, 9.8k, M)

Rec: EVERYONE needs to read this fic. It's my favorite Sirius fic of all time and will make you cry and just ache inside. Despite the tag, the romance is nonexistent; it's about Sirius as a haunting and a ghost, as an angry and vicious and hurt and innocent child, with James and Remus trying to save him.

“I hate him,” Sirius admits. “But I left him to die. I’m fucking. Irredeemable. Or something. He was just a kid. You know what they did to me in that house? You know what they did to me? This is fucking nothing. I’d die in that camp bed and I’d be thankful it didn’t hurt as much as it could’ve. Oh, fuck, please don’t kill me.” His eyes, not present, go blank; he starts over.  - Whoever he’s screaming at, they must not answer him. He fists the carpet up in his hands and slams his knees against it hard enough to rattle the floor, too much anger for a small body.  “It HURTS!” he yells, sort of outraged in the way kids get when you don’t apologise for making them cry. “This hurts! You can’t just go, you can’t— I hate you!”  It’s his mother he’s crying to, Remus knows almost implicitly. Sirius has always been far too much like her. And he, too, would leave almost anybody bleeding like this and shut the door in their face. 

riding a freight train's solitary wail by orphan_account (Sirius & James, Sirius & Regulus, 4.3k, T)

Rec: Another heartbreaking must-read fic from the same author as above, about Sirius running away from home. I also recommend this author's whole harry potter what-ifs + speculatives series.

Hurricane Walburga is waiting for him back home, angry enough to tear off the roof. And fuck that, honestly. Sirius darts a hand overtop of the bright orange flame and it leaves little red scuffs over the meaty bit of his palm, streaky like stings or poison or something. Fuck that, and fuck her too, and he hopes she dies, he thinks darkly, kicking a stone against the wall and watching it clatter into the drainpipe. There's a poster for some funk band on the wall and they grin down at him, and Sirius hopes she dies. 

Catch a Glimpse by @ashesandhackles (Sirius & Harry, 428 words, G)

Rec: Heartbreaking mini fic that gets inside Sirius's head so well.

Lily and James stand among the wildflowers, smiling at him, having the worn look of photographs aged by time. He can smell salt in the air, a tangy wind that scatters the flowers, sparkling like embers, underneath their feet. "Did you see where Harry has gone to, Padfoot?" James asks. He was right here. In my arms, Sirius thinks to say. Right here with me. He should be right here.

A Christmas Debacle by @ashesandhackles (Sirius & Andromeda, Andromeda & Bellatrix, 2.1k)

Rec: A great Black Family Drama fic. Loved the family dynamics here!

Sirius could feel the beginnings of a fight on the night before Christmas. He was especially attuned to this - given that he was the cause of many of the fights that the dinner table would have witnessed.

The Truth in Potions by shaggydogstail (Sirius/Remus, Sirius & James & Lily, Sirius & his pet kneazle, 42k)

Rec: Another Sirius-centric fic of all time, and best portrayal of Sirius and Remus suspecting each other during the First War.

It was Harry that Voldemort wanted, Harry that Sirius had stood up in church and vowed to protect. Harry, who laughed and toddled and lived and who everyone fell in love with. How could Remus ever want to hurt him? It was Harry who, if Sirius didn’t stop fucking everything up would never live to see his second birthday. ‘Not Harry,’ gasped Sirius, and it was more like a sob. ‘Spare him, please, don’t hurt Harry. Kill me but don’t hurt him, please.’

This Widening Bed (This Bed Has Seen It All Remix) by shaggydogstail (Sirius/Remus, Sirius & James, Sirius & Peter, Sirius & Lily, Sirius & Harry, 4.4k)

Rec: Sirius Black, his bed, and the people he shared it with. A lovely friendship fic.

They’re breathless with laughter when James arrives to survey the room with mock-disapproval. ‘Just once,’ he says, as he throws himself down between them, ‘I’d like to come home from work and not find my wife and my best friend in bed together.’ ‘Just once you’d like to get here before we finish putting our clothes back on,’ Sirius retorts, and Lily laughs so hard she upsets the punnet of peaches, sending over-ripe fruit tumbling across the bedspread.

Alphard's Favourite by @thistlecatfics (Sirius/Peter, Sirius/Alphard, 4.7k, M)

Rec: An excellent exploration of sexual abuse with a fascinating rarepair.

What had set Sirius off became apparent with the next morning’s Prophet. The story didn’t make the front pages and was buried deep in the paper - an impersonal note in the financial pages and a lurid one in the society section, but enough students read enough of the paper that soon the entire student body had seen the news. Sirius Black was always good gossip. Sirius’s Uncle Alphard had left him gold. A lot of gold. An obscene amount of gold. Though why this made Sirius act out like he was sixteen years old and on the verge of running away all over again was still unclear to Peter. 

all time is unredeemable by slashmarks (Sirius & Bellatrix, Sirius & Narcissa, 5.2k)

Rec: The most heartbreaking and compelling Sirius and Bellatrix backstory - an eight year old Sirius is the one to drive Bellatrix to Voldemort because he thinks Voldemort would save her from their family.

He hoped it wouldn't be breaking his promise. But it wasn't being bad, really. And anyway if it would help Bella it would be worth breaking a promise. Even a promise he had sworn on his magic, even if it really did make him a squib. He didn't want them to kill Bella. He inched carefully in the direction of Lord Voldemort, not enough for Cissy to notice. He pitched his voice just loud enough that he knew the people in that corner would hear when he said, "They're not, though. Bella could do better. That blue light was the isgebind curse, right? That's the heaviest thing they've used and when I watched her teaching you she said she learned it summer after her fourth year."

I also recommend all of @gracelesslady23's fic - read here