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littlemissmentallyunstable · 1 month

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thanks for you request!! I’m SO SO SO sorry it took me so long to complete, there has been so many edits and rewrites and start overs but anyways, here is the final product, I’m praying it doesn’t disappoint. my motivation has not been there lately… anyways I gave it a go, hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

title: the hawthorne with the green eyes

pairing: jameson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: your avery’s best friend and she’s suddenly been thrown into a world that isn’t her own and she needs you… but in going to support your best friend, you don’t expect a certain someone to take you interest

warnings: mild swearing and mentions of the reader having a dead father

a/n: this is set mid the first inheritance games book, timelines may clash a little but work with me please 😭😭

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @heartwithsimplenotes @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

“I go on holiday for two weeks and of course that’s when everything blows up,” I exclaimed over the phone.

Avery was down the other end. I’d practically just stepped foot back in my house after fourteen glorious days in Europe and just about had time to fling my suitcase to the corner of my room before I straight away called her. How did I miss everything?! Pretty much as soon as the plane touched down back in America my phone practically blew up with messages and calls and news alerts. Suddenly my best friend’s face was all over TV and I had a billion DMs from people I’d never even talked to before.

“Timing is impeccable as always,” Avery laughed.

“Tell me everything,” I said.

Screw jet lag, this was way more important. We had the longest conversation I think I’ve ever had in my whole lifetime. She told me all about the will of this mysterious Tobias Hawthorne and the people involved. She explained how she’d been flown all the way out to Texas and was now required to live in Hawthorne house for at least a year where basically the whole family resided. Including four of Tobias’s scarily hood looking and intelligent grandsons.

“I can’t lie, this all sounds like it’s been plucked right out of a novel,” I said.

“42.6 billion dollars,” she confirmed, “what gets more fictional than that?”

“Ave this is crazy,” I replied, eyes as wide as saucepans.

“I can’t believe it,” she responded with a long sigh.

��You’re literally a billionaire,” I murmured. Saying it out loud made it even more real, even more shocking.

“I never thought I’d hear anyone say that out loud,” she said, then she sighed again,“I just can’t work out why I inherited it, I mean over his family it doesn’t make sense.”

“Well what did his grandsons have to say?” I asked.

“One thinks it’s a game of sorts, like a puzzle,” she explained, “their grandfather used to give them puzzles when they were younger and he thinks I’m the final one.”

“Are you okay?” I questioned suddenly, feeling guilty I hadn’t asked her right away,

“Yeah I’m fine,” she exhaled, “I’m a billionaire right?”

“No, I mean are you really okay?” I clarified, “because if it were me I know I wouldn’t be.”

“I think I’m okay,” she replied, hesitating a little.

“Avery,” I sang in an accusing tone.

She laughed a little and then, “I don’t know how to feel about any of this,” she sighed, “god I wish you were here.”

“Then I’ll come,” I blurted out, the instinct too prominent to ignore.

“What?” she gaped, as I pictured her with a hanging jaw.

“I’ll come to wherever you are, seen as you can’t come to me,” I replied, “that is if you want me to.”

“Of course I do,” she said, “but that’s a long trip for you and-“

“I don’t care about any of that,” I interrupted her before she went off on a selfless tangent, “seeing you is going to make whatever I have to do to get there worth it.”

“You’re an angel, a real life angel,” she whispered and I could hear the smile in her voice.

I laughed, “see you as soon as possible, I have a plane ticket to book.”

“Wait,” she told me suddenly, making me jump a little, “I’m paying.”

“Avery-“ I said, attempting to begin to decline.

“No, you can’t even decline because I’m a billionaire,” she snapped before I could even say no, “heck I could buy you the whole plane if I wanted.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” I pressed further.

“Let me buy the ticket, it’s the least I can do,” she said, “and I’m getting Oren to pick you up from the airport.”

My mind flicked back to her explanation, the name sounded familiar. It took a few minutes for it to finally come to me, “Isn’t that bodyguard?”

“He’s the only one I’d trust with your life,” Avery explained.

“God Ave, you make it sound like I’m going to get shot,” I attempted to joke.

“I really need to be cautious at the moment,” she said, warning in her voice, “this whole billionaire business is not as glamorous as it seems.”

“Oh Avery,” I murmured sympathetically, “I’ll be there to hear every last drop in a few hours, okay?”

“Thank you,” she said, he tone thick with gratitude, “you have no idea how much this means to me.”

***

Next thing I knew I was on a first class flight to Texas at three AM in the morning. I’d never flown first class before. It’s a shame I didn’t get really experience it, seen as I fell asleep for the entire flight, still exhausted from my previous travels. For the parts I was awake, it was beautiful and such a lovely smooth ride. When I’d finally made my way through passport control and grabbed my luggage I was in search of Oren. Avery had text me the number plate of the car ready to pick me up. Seemed she’d forgotten to mention it was a limo I was being picked up in. That information alone would’ve sorted me out just fine as there was only one limo at the pick up station. I walked up to the window and tapped on the blackout glass. It rolled down all of a sudden, making me jump. A man sat in the front, a flat serious expression on his face.

“Identification,” he said before I could even get a word out.

Identification? What the hell did that mean?

“y/n l/n,” I guessed, my name seeming like a viable option for a response.

“Physical identification,” he clarified.

“Can’t you see my face?” I asked, not really knowing what else he meant by physical identification.

“Do you want to get in this car?” he deadpanned.

Great! I’d gotten on the wrong side of Mr. Smiley now.

I wracked my brain for what he could mean by physical identification, “do you want my passport or something?”

“That’ll do,” he nodded sharply.

I fumbled around in my bag like an idiot until I find my passport. I handed it over as soon as I could.

He took it swiftly and analysed it for a good few minutes, “okay jump in.”

“Are you Oren?” I asked, swinging the back door open and putting my suitcase down by the seats.

“Most certainly,” he replied, as I slid in.

“Avery mentioned you,” I clarified, worried he might he starts speculating I’m an enemy imposter dressed up as Avery’s friend coming to commit a murder.

He gave me a thoughtful look as he began to pull out of the pick up station, “all good things I hope?

“Very good things,” I reassured him.

He smiled to himself, almost looking touched, “that’s nice to hear.”

We fell into an awkward silence. There was nothing more necessarily to be said but something hung in the air waiting to be said, but I don’t think either of us could work out what. Thankfully for me, it was Oren who broke the silence first.

“It is also nice Avery has a friend coming to stay with her but I hope you understand you won’t be able to have your normal coffee and catch up anymore, Avery’s life is so different now,” he said, his tone authoritative and serious.

“I know,” I nodded, “I understand how dangerous it all is. I’m just here to make sure she’s okay.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he replied, “you are a good friend.”

“This is the bare minimum,” I shrugged lightly, “and I know she’d do the same for me if ever I needed it.”

And that was true. She’d do anything for me in a heartbeat. Avery needed me right now, so that’s exactly where I’d be.

***

The rest of the car journey was relatively smooth. I conversed briefly some more with Oren, having the standard school and home life, getting to know me talk. I didn’t mind his company at all, he was a genuine man with a kind heart. I could tell as much from just that hour in the car. When we finally pulled up, sunrise is on the horizon. The house was a phenomenon.

I got out of the car and just stared up at it, my jaw dropped in pure shock. The exterior was huge and it looked like a castle crossed with a Manor House crossed with the worlds biggest mansion. Everything about it screamed prestigious. It reminded me of a historical palace I once toured when I was younger.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it,” Oren smiled, handing me my luggage.

“Oh thanks,” I nodded, “and yeah, woah. Avery owns the whole of this?”

“Every acre,” he nodded.

“Someone needs to pinch me, so I know I’m not dreaming,” I murmured, “it’s magnificent.”

“It truly is,” Oren agreed.

I stared up at the building again and attempt to take in the grounds. It’s so vast I can’t even see all of it. It expands for what seems like forever. I was so lost in thought when my name was shouted that I nearly didn’t hear it altogether.

“Y/N!” shouted a voice. It could only be one voice.

“AVERY!” I screamed, whipping my head around.

I spotted my best friend and suddenly discarded all of my luggage, it somehow seeming irrelevant at this time. We sprinted towards one another as fast as possible and collided. I flung my arms around her and squeezed her as tightly as humanly possible, it’s a wonder I didn’t suffocate her. She did the same, holding me so close that I heard the uneven thumping of her heart in her chest. I inhaled the comforting scent of her perfume as I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling at home in her arms. I didn’t even realise I was crying until we pull away from each other.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she laughed, tears also rolling down her cheeks.

“You better believe it girl,” I smiled, “thanks for the plane ticket, first class is gorgeous.”

“Get used to it,” she told me, with a little wink.

“No, I’m not becoming a gold digger friend,” I shook my head, putting a palm out, “I refuse.”

“We’ll see,” she said, with a graceful shrug.

“Nope,” I shook my head stubbornly.

“Let me show you the house,” she said, veering the subject elsewhere.

“I know you said it was big but you didn’t mention it was this big,” I gaped, my eyes glued to the structure.

She smiled sheepishly, “big was a bit of an understatement on my part.”

“You think?” I laughed, still trying to drink up the details.

As we walked up to the doorstep I became aware of movement coming from behind us, I turned around to see Oren walking around two meters behind us. Quickly I whipped my head back around to Avery, to avoid awkward eye contact with him.

“Does he follow you everywhere?” I asked, dropping my voice low.

“Most places,” she shrugged in reply.

I raised my eyebrows.

“It’s not as creepy as it seems, trust me,” she said, “he’s very subtle.”

“Okay,” I replied unsurely, tempted to turn around again.

“Just don’t think about it,” she told me as we approached the door.

I tried to, but it was impossible not to be aware of someone tracking your every move. I began to wonder if I’d been microchipped with cameras and microphones yet. Avery grabbed the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open to reveal what looked like magic.

It seemed even larger on the window with its towering central staircase and large windows. The corridors seemed endless and so did the rooms within them. The floorboards were wooden and glossy, clearly expensive. The carpeted parts were velvet, they must’ve been. I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that everything was embroidered with some sort of gold laced trim. A large, intricately crafted chandelier hung roundly from the ceiling, glistening with crystals. It was mesmerisingly beautiful. And my best friend owned it all.

“Ave…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

“I know,” she nodded, beaming at me, “come in.”

“I feel like if I walk on the floors I’ll scratch them or something,” I scoffed.

“Don’t be stupid,” she grinned, yanking my arm so I practically fell in, “where should we go first?”

“Shouldn’t we pick up a map or something?” I joked, “is there a tour guide who can show us around?”

She giggled, “I’m your certified map and tour guide today.”

“Lucky me,” I winked, “where to first, oh noble one.”

“How about my room?” Avery suggested.

“Yes! I need a room tour!” I replied, excitedly.

“This way,” she said, grabbing my hand and cocking her head towards the large central staircase, that split into two.

***

I’d thought the house was beautiful but I couldn’t believe Avery’s room. Heavenly was an understatement. She had a queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room, that looked so comfy just staring at it made me sleep. She had a chest of drawers and matching vanity and a massive bookshelf that I was green with envy of. I noticed two bifold doors on one side of the room, which confused me.

“Open them,” she grinned, as if reading my mind.

Slowly I curl my hand aground the edge and pried the two doors apart. I almost fainted at the sight. A walk in wardrobe. Of course I’d seen them in the movies but never in real life, in someone’s house. It was such a massive wardrobe, it reminded me of that scene from Barbie, where her wardrobe seemed endless.

“No way!” I gaped at her.

“Way!” she winked.

There were of course other species of furniture, like shelves, a desk and chair, a beanbag, bedside tables, an armchair and so much more. Anything could ever want or need was in that room. Like the huge TV or the mini fridge. There was a small door on the other side, which I presumed lead to an en-suite, as I caught a glimpse of bathroom tiles inside as the door was slightly ajar.

“It’s definitely an upgrade from the car,” Avery exhaled.

I looked at her sadly. I’d offered her to live with us for a while so many times, but she declined each and every time. I thought it was because she didn’t want to be a burden. She never deserved the life she had, she deserved this now. After all she’d been through, all she’d lost, all she’d worked for, she deserved this. And secretly I was glad a random dead billionaire left her in his will.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said quietly.

“What look?” I asked.

“The one where your eyes go all sad,” she murmured.

“My eyes go sad?” I said, almost laughing.

“You know what I mean,” she rolled her eyes, then sighed, “I wanted to live in my car okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled, unconvinced.

No one wants to live in their car, it’s something you’re forced to do when your home is no longer liveable. But I didn’t press the matter, those days were long gone now. Now she had this. She pulled me down onto the mattress beside her. We laid down staring up at the ceiling, my head resting on hers. We didn’t say anything for a good while and the silence was comforting, it was nice. It allowed us to breathe a little.

“This house is full of secret passageways,” Avery murmured after a while.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Nope,” she grinned.

“This just gets more and more like a mystery movie by the second,” I replied, wide eyed.

“I know,” she said, “I’m finding it a little mental.”

“A little?” I scoffed.

She laughed lightly, airily. It was a pretty laugh but not a proper one, if I’d been looking at her face, I was sure that the smile wouldn’t have quite reached her eyes.

I say up and she followed suit, so I looked into her eyes and asked her, “are you really okay?”

There was a long pause. Hesitation. It told me everything already but still I waited for her to respond.

“No,” she sighed. It surprised me that she said that. Avery wasn’t one to admit she wasn’t okay very easily, not even to herself. So the fact that she was admitting that to me out loud spoke volumes. She was really not okay. I didn’t say anything right away and let her carry on.

“This is a lot,” she exhaled, “and I know it makes me sound so selfish. I have everything and anything I could ever want but it’s just so much to adjust to.”

“You don’t sound selfish, you sound human,” I reassured her. She needed to know that her feelings were normal, if I were in her position I know I’d be a mess. But she was here, holding it all together or trying to at least.

“I have a helicopter, a freaking helicopter and there’s all these interviews I have to do, functions I have to attend,” she exclaimed, “I don’t know what to do with myself half the time. I mean it’s so obvious I don’t fit in, I wasn’t born into all of this.”

She took a sharp breath in and I decided I needed to let her rant and get these things off of her chest.

“School is like a living hell, most people hate me,” she groaned, “private school is not for me, I’ve got no friends there and everyone seems to be either shooting me weird looks or whispering my name. And it shouldn’t affect me and I know it’s pathetically stupid but it really does.”

“Hey,” I soothed, rubbing up and down her arms, “kids are stupid and you know they’re just jealous. Besides you won’t be in school for that much longer anyway. One, two years with these people and then you never have to see them again. And you’ve only just joined recently, there’s time to make friends if you want to. And I’m only a call away, no matter where you are, what time it is, we have phones for a reason.”

“Yeah,” she blew out a breath, “yeah, okay.”

“You can carry on,” I told her, “just get the weight off of your shoulders.”

“I don’t want to complain, it feels wrong,” she sighed.

“Nu-uh,” I snapped wagging my finger, “you’re a human with feelings which means you have every right to complain so shoot girl.”

“Thank you, really,” she said, her big hazel eyes deep with gratitude.

“Stop thanking me for doing the bare minimum, this is like getting you a spoon from the cutlery drawer when you ask,” I said, “now tell me, what else?”

“My life is apparently constantly at risk, I mean I have bodyguard who is standing outside this door right now,” she replied, “I could be killed. Literally killed. And people want to do that to me and that’s so hard-“

Her voice broke and she struggled ro pull herself together, despite how hard she was trying. I instinctively enveloped my arms around her and pulled her tight to my chest

“I’m sorry Avery,” I murmured, “that’s awful, absolutely awful. But you have Oren and you know he’s going to take good care of you, you have whole teams of people preventing that from happening.”

She mumbled an indecipherable response and let a few tears slip.

“And these stupid people aren’t making things any easier for me. All of them are so…” she trailed off, “I can’t find the right word to describe them. Grayson thinks I’m some sort of threat and I’ve inherited this money because I’m a scheming, lying, manipulative snake. Xander seems to live to confuse me, constantly throwing out weird phrases that just throw me off. Nash, well Nash is just very laid back, he doesn’t seem to care about me or my role in the will which is good, but I don’t like the way he looks at Libby. And Jameson…” she hesitated, “Jameson thinks I’m just a game, one left by his grandfather. And the worst part is I dont even know what I’m here and I can’t figure it out.”

“Yet,” I replied.

She titled her head, confused, “What?”

“I can’t figure it out yet,” I explained.

“That’s patronising,” she said, “are you trying to take me back to first grade?”

“It might help you,” I shrugged.

“First grade?” she laughed.

“An open mindset,” I clarified.

She doesn’t reply.

“These grandsons for the most part seem a bit snobbish if you ask me, you shouldn’t pay too much attention to them,” I said, “they’re not worth you at all. You’re not a snake, you’re not stupid, your sister isn’t a prize and you’re not a game. You know this, in here,” I press my palm on the left side of her chest, “don’t let them make you forget it.”

She smiled through glossy eyes,“what would I do without you?”

“Have a mental breakdown in the shower alone and pretend it’s all okay,” I guessed.

“I did that yesterday,” she told me.

“Damn it I didn’t get here fast enough,” I joked, my heart breaking at the thought of Avery sobbing all alone.

She cracked a weak smile, “you got here, you are here, that’s all I care about.”

“Just take a second and breathe, okay?” I said.!

“Breathing,” she replied. I could hear she was breathing in and out in a rhythmic, calming motion.

“Good, keep going,” I nodded in encouragement.

We fell into silence again but like most of our silences, neither of us felt discomfort. I let her breathe, I let her think, I let her have the moment to herself I know she’d felt to selfish to take since she got here.

“Better?” I asked after a while.

“Better,” she nodded her head.

“You’re going to get through this, it just all seems a lot right now because you’re not used to it and it’s all come at once,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she replied.

We wrapped our arms around each other, a warm hug acting as some sort of cocoon, excluding the outside world for mere moments. I breathed in her shampoo, the smell comforting. We stayed in each other’s arms for long time. We had both needed it.

“I’m really glad your here,” she whispered as we pull away.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” I told her.

***

“I still can’t believe you live here now,” I exhaled, the side of my cheek pressed on her head.

We’d gone back to talking, catching up on each other’s lives for a bit. It seemed we just never could stop talking. And it felt good.

“I know, it’s crazy,” she admitted, “me and Lib have just about got used to it.”

“Libby’s here? Now?” I asked excitedly.

Avery nodded.

“Please can we go and see her?” I asked, “I haven’t seen her in so long.”

“Of course,” she grinned, “I’m just going to ignore the fact that you love my sister more than you love me.”

“It’ll probably make you feel better,” I shrugged, teasing her slightly.

“Hey!” she laughed, slapping my arm lightly.

I’d forgotten how much I’d missed Avery’s company. She wasn’t just my best friend, she was part of me. Every time we were together I was just immediately elevated. I needed her.

“What? You said it,” I grinned, poking my tongue out.

“My best guess is that she’s baking in the kitchen, so we’ll look there first,” she explained.

“How comes she’s baking at nine in the morning?” I asked.

“She’s productive,” Avery shrugged.

I nodded as we exited her room. I followed Avery, presuming she would know where she was going. But after a labyrinth of corridors and a few smiling landmarks, I began to doubt her orienteering skill and decided we were lost.

“Ave I swear I’ve seen that suit of armour before,” I mentioned to her.

“There’s a suit of armour?” she asked.

“We’ve seen it like three times now,” I nodded, pointing to it.

She tilted her head and examined it, “we have not!”

“I’m telling you we definitely have,” I replied,

“You have walked past it four times actually,” a sudden voice said, making me jump out of my skin.

I turned around to see a boy coming up behind us. He was very tall, towering over both Avery and I. There was a bounce in his step and amusement in his voice, he was young, energetic and full of life. He had dark skin and a small grin planted on his lips. And there was a certain wistful sparkle in his eyes. I presumed he was one of the four grandsons, but I was trying to work out which one due to the descriptions Avery had given me.

“Have you been watching us?” Avery scoffed, arms folded,

“I just happened to notice you walking past four times,” the boy shrugged.

Avery narrowed her eyes at him, “why did you count?”

“I wanted to see how many tries it would take you until you realised you were lost,” he replied coolly.

“We’re not lost,” Avery insisted.

“Are you sure?” he chuckled, eyebrows raised.

“I call it non-purposeful wandering,” I piped up

He looked at me for the first time, his deep chocolate eyes meeting mine. His eyebrows now shuffled inwards and he tilted his head to the side, “I don’t recognise you.”

“I’m y/n,” I smiled, “I came to visit Avery.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he nodded, “did you only just arrive?”

“It was about an hour ago,” I shrugged in reply.

“Did you fly all the way out here?” he asked me.

“From Connecticut to Texas,” I confirmed with a short nod of the head.

“Now tell me,” he said, looking very serious, “do robots interest you?”

I side glanced at Avery and she subtly signalled for me to carry on conversation.

“I’ve never really thought about it before,” I said honestly.

“How have you lived your life without thinking about robots?” he gasped, looking somewhere between purely shocked and offended.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “should I start?”

“I’d strongly advise you to,” he said, “they’re most interesting.”

“Is that why you’ve got a singed eyebrow and oil on your sleeves?” I asked, not being able to suppress my mind’s curiosities.

“Observant,” he smiled.

“That’s what they say,” I replied awkwardly, knowing Avery would tease me about this later.

“Robots have a tendency to explode when you get them a bit wrong,” he explained, “if you can get past that, it’s great.”

“Explosions don’t really sound like my cup of tea,” I said, “but I suppose you never know until you try.”

“You have a good spirit,” he told me, “I think you would work well with robotics.”

“Thanks,” I replied, taking it as a compliment to mask my confusion over the whole conversation. I took him as someone who you just rolled with, no matter what. So that’s what I was attempting to achieve.

“Blueberry or lemon?” he asked me.

“Blueberry, no matter the context,” I answered without missing a beat.

“I like you,” he nodded, “Avery can we keep her?”

“For the time being,” she grinned, “unless she starts biting.”

“Can’t make any promises,” I winked then turned back to the boy, “you know your way around this place right?”

“Most of it, though I still discover a new secret passage way every now and then,” he shrugged, as if it were the norm to find secret passageways around your house.

“Do you know how we get to the kitchen?” Avery asked.

“And you said you’re not lost,” he teased her.

“She’s testing you,” I said,

“Is it because you got stuck non-purposefully wandering on your way there,” he smiled, using my precious wording,

“Precisely,” I nodded.

“Okay then,” he replied, “to get the kitchen you just need to follow these suits of armour and when they stop take two rights and walk down your closest set of stairs. You should find it there, if I’m not mistaken.”

My jaw hung slack, “you memorised that?”

“Sort of, thought I usually end up stumbling upon the kitchen by accident through a secret passage way,” he shrugged, “it’s an important room to locate.”

“I guess,” I agreed

He nodded, “Safe travels.”

“We’re not trekking across a desert,” I laughed.

“No,” he smiled, “this is much worse.”

And with that he turned and walked in the opposite direction. We watched him until he exited the corridor and went off elsewhere.

“That’s Xander,” Avery filled me in.

“The one who’s addicted to scones?” I asked, the blueberry or lemon question finally making sense.

“Yes, that’s him,” she confirmed.

“Yeah that figures,” I nodded, “I like him.”

“He’s nice, I mean he doesn’t act like he wants to kill me all the time so that’s a plus,” she said.

“Oh yeah, when do I get to meet the angel of a man who keeps wishing you death?” I grinned.

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” she grimaced

We finally made it to the kitchen, after a few wrong turns and a game of eeny-meeny-miny-mo. I spotted Libby from the doorway. She was piping vibrant blue icing, almost the colour of her hair, into a pink sponge cupcake. I snuck up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, tightly squeezing her closer. She let out a small gasp in surprise.

“Guess who?” I murmured excitedly.

“Is this real or does someone have to pinch me?” she asked, the smile in her voice.

“It’s real,” I assured her.

I let go of her and she spun around, cupping my face in her palms.

“Y/n!” she beamed widely at me, brining me in for a hug, “hi love, it’s been a while, huh?”

“Too much of a while if you ask me,” I mumbled into her.

“Glad to see you again,” she smiled as we break apart. The unspoken ‘make sure my sister is okay’ running through her eyes.

“Me too,” I replied, silently reassuring her of the reason I was here.

“I’m starting to think you prefer my sister to me,” Avery scoffed, scooping a little buttercream onto her finger tip and popping it into her mouth

“Sometimes I do,” I replied mischievously.

“Hey,” she complained.

I stuck out my tongue in reply.

“Ooo please taste this,” Libby said, quickly grabbing a couple of cupcakes and handing one to both me and Avery.

“Well it’d be rude not to,” I grinned, taking one gratefully.

“It would,” she agreed as Avery broke the half of the bottom off of her cupcake and put it into of the icing to make her little cupcake sandwich.

I stared at her in disapproval, “you are a monster for doing that.”

“You’re just bitter because it’s the smartest way to eat a cupcake,” she replied.

“When you eat a cupcake you shouldn’t be analysing how you eat it you should just eat it how it is,” I exclaimed passionately. We’d had this fight many of times and I would never stop backing my corner.

“I don’t want icing smeared up my nose,” Avery defended, “and this is the best way to prevent that.”

I shook my head and took a bite of my cupcake, like a normal person. The flavours tantalised my tastebuds, teasing them to crave more. The cake itself was airy and light, not too dry but not too moist. It was the perfect cake to icing ratio and nothing was over sweet or too artificial. It was like heaven on my tongue. I’d really missed these.

“So…” Libby asked, nervously, “what do you think?”

“How do you do it?” I replied, taking another bite.

“Good?”

“That’s an understatement,” I told her, “is there fairy dust in this or something?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” a new person entered, cutting off whatever Libby’s reply was. His accent was definitely Texan and I looked up to my surprise to find an older looking man. Well not old at all, just older than me. I presumed he was in his twenties. He wore a cowboy hat, titled slightly to one side and from under it I noticed his brownish-blondish hair. He had hazel eyes and a sharp jawline but what stood out to me was his nose. He had a similar nose to Xander which gave him away to being another grandson, but which one?

“What are you doing here?” Libby asked, annoyance in her tone.

It surprised me. I had never heard Libby talk to anyone with any remotely negative connotation. I widened my eyes and looked to Avery who only shrugged in response.

“Coming to check up on you and your crazy cupcake baking obsession,” he explained, walking further into the room.

“I don’t need checking up on,” she grumbled, turning back to her piping bag.

“Oh I know that darlin’,” he smiled. It was the kind of smile that you don’t see often, the kind of smile that shows everyone else in that room that the person who is being smiled at is the other person’s whole world.

No one had ever smiled at me like that.

I scooted closer to Avery and whispered, “Are they…”

“I don’t know, I’m 99% sure but it’s not official,” she explained quickly.

“Oh okay,” I nodded.

We watched as they bickered, back and forth for a little bit, unsuppressed smiles on both of their faces. They meant something to one another, even if they didn’t know it yet. They continued to argue until the cowboy noticed my presence.

“Who’s the new one?” he asked, nodding at me

“New one? She has a name,” Libby said sharply.

“I’m y/n. Avery’s friend and Libby’s practically adopted little sister, nice to meet you,” I introduced myself.

“Am I even relevant anymore?” Avery sighed.

“Nope,” me and Libby grinned simultaneously.

“Nash,” he nodded, shaking my hand, “nice to meet you too.”

“We’re going to get going now,” Avery said, “I haven’t shown her the bowling alley yet.”

My eyes widened, “bowling alley?”

“Catch you guys later,” she grinned, pulling me out of the kitchen.

“You have a bowling alley in your house,” I said, still in shock, “why didn’t you tell me already?”

“When’s the best time to bring up the fact you have a bowling alley, I mean it’s not exactly normal conversation,” she told me.

“Okay fair enough,” I responded, as we start walking again, “so are we meeting everyone like it’s a parody of sorts?”

“Seems like it,” she sighed,

“Tour of the hottie Hawthorne’s,” I joked, spreading my arms out to reveal an invisible sign.

She giggled, “hottie?”

“Oh please, you can’t deny it, they’re all gorgeous so far,” I said.

She looked around cautiously, “they could be listening you know?”

“Oh well I’m sure they know,” I scoffed, “besides you’re telling me that you don’t find at least one of them attractive?”

“Moving on,” she said quickly, brushing over the subject, with pink-tinged cheeks.

“Are you blushing?” I asked her.

“No,“ she replied bluntly, “shut up.”

“You’re blushing,” I sang, “which one is it? Oh please tell me Ave!”

“None of them,” she insisted, digging her heals in.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

She replied, “that’s because you have trust issues.”

“No it’s because I know you’re lying,” I told her.

She didn’t reply.

“You better tell me fast because I will attempt to make a move on one of them at some point,” I warned her, “Nash is already out of the question because he’s Libby’s, so which ones yours? I’ll pick between the other two.”

She laughed. It was the first time since we’d met up that I’d seen her properly crack a smile, her eyes fully lighting up, “pick whoever you want, no one’s mine.”

“You might regret saying that later on,” I warned her.

“Doubt it,” she shrugged, “just be careful, okay? These people, this family… just be careful.”

“I will, promise,” I nodded, “so who’s on stage next in ‘let’s meet the Hawthorne brothers’.”

“It’s a surprise,” Avery said,

I smiled, “oooo how intriguing!”

We turned the corner and I noticed someone approaching. Avery did too, as I noticed her breathing sped up a little.

“Speak of the devil and I mean the literal devil, here comes another,” she muttered.

Approaching us was a blonde. Like his brothers, he was tall, but not as tall. He was dressed in what looked to be a highly expensive suit and matching designer shoes. His face was serious and unemotional, like it was paralysed in a state of seriousness.

“Woah, hello jawline,” I mumbled, after catching a glimpse.

“Wait until he looks you in the eyes,” Avery murmured.

“Oh god he walks really fast,” I said quietly, as he approached closer and closer.

She grinned at me, “rich boy leg strides.”

I tried to smile but fail, “Why is my heart beating so fast?”

“He has that effect of people,” she shrugged, “intimidation.”

“Why does he look like he wants to kill me,” I said under my breath when he was about two meters away.

“That’s just his face,” she reassured me.

I began to ask another question, “Are-“

“Shut up,” Avery hissed and I understood why. The blonde had stopped infront of us and he was staring me up and down, as if he were scanning for some sort of hidden weapon I had.

“Who’s this?” Goldilocks snapped, his voice clearly portraying his dominance.

“A friend,” Avery replied curtly.

“A potential threat,” he said sharply.

Why did everyone in this place think I was some sort of axe-murderer. Was it common in Texas or something?

“She’s none of your business,” Avery grits through her teeth.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied walking away.

He hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, though I couldn’t work out if it was because he felt I was too below him or he just didn’t feel a need to. Whatever it was, it was clear that there was a tension between those two, but I decided not to bring it up yet.

“What’s he going to do? Research me?” I scoffed.

Avery shrugged as we continue walking, “probably.”

“You’re kidding!” I laughed.

“I wish I was,” she said, wiping the smile off of my face.

“So I take it he’s the one that hates you for breathing?” I clarified, mentally ticking him off of my list of what Hawthorne’s I had met and what ones I hadn’t.

“Yep,” she nodded, “that was Grayson.”

“Yeesh, his jawline looked dangerously sharp,” I winced.

“Better not get on the wrong side of it,” she winked.

“I think I already am,” I blew out a breath, “I mean if looks could kill…”

“Oh we’d both be long gone,” Avery giggled.

“I get the eye thing now,” I groaned rubbing my eyes, “god, ouch, it burns.”

“Doesn’t the piercing grey just give you a headache?” she asked.

“It really does, have you got aspirin?” I said.

She shrugged, “somewhere in the maze of a house.”

“Was he wearing a designer suit?” I was dying to ask.

“Always,” she nodded.

“You’re kidding, all the time?” I gaped.

She sighed, “All the time.”

***

We spent the rest of the day in various different places. I adored the library and the dance studio as well as the karaoke bar and swimming pool. These people had everything. But something was playing on my mind. I’d met three of the four Hawthornes, which meant there was still one to go. I hadn’t seen the other all day, but I had stumbled across his brothers another few times. I found it odd. Avery only shrugged when I asked her about it and presumed he was drunk somewhere. Avery and I had also convinced ourselves Grayson had a murder club, consisting only of himself, and we were the first on his hit-list. We figured if we went, we’d go together so it’d be alright.

Somehow, after touring not even a quarter of the house, we ended up back on her bed again, me catching her up on old school drama. I’d forgotten that she’d missed the break up of the century with an added cheating scandal from the girl with the guy’s brother.

“Hey I just need to run and find Libby a minute, I’ll be back,” she’d told me, after she’d received a text in her phone.

“Everything okay?” I checked.

“Fine,” she nodded once, “I’ll be back soon.”

But soon didn’t feel that soon. It was a little awkward sat in someone else’s bedroom without them. I didn’t know what to do with myself. After a while, I decided I should look for Avery. I opened the door and smacked into someone and almost toppled over.

“You should really watch you’re going, heiress,” the person said.

“Maybe you should too,” I scowled, looking up to meet a pair of alluring green eyes.

“You’re not Avery,” he replied, looking very confused.

“Gee, you’re observant,” I rolled my eyes, then suddenly felt a pang of guilt, “sorry, I tend to overreact when I��m pissed off.”

“A quality we share,” he grinned slightly.

“I wouldn’t call it a quality,” I said.

I stared at him properly, he was tall with dark, unruly hair. He had a similar bone structure than his brothers but his face was softer than Grayson’s, his features warmer.

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” he smiled, a witty, mischievous smile, “Jameson Hawthorne.”

He extended a hand towards me and I took swiftly it. His grip was hard, strong I noted. Jameson, the brother I was yet to meet. And dare I say it, he was the best looking by far.

“So who are you?” he asked.

“I’m y/n,” I said, “I’m a friend of Avery’s, I’ve come to stay with her.”

“That’s nice of you,” he commented, a little awkwardly.

“It’s the least I can do,” I replied quietly.

He doesn’t say anything back but I don’t want him to. It was hard enough focusing on conversation when he was looking at me. He was gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. His whole face with was the picture of perfection. Symmetrical, but not harshly, it was more of a mellow, kind symmetry, that enhanced all of his features. His soft looking lips, his nice shaped nose and his eyes. God those eyes. They were a rich green like nature, glistening with intelligent thoughts.

“Well I suppose I’ll see you around then,” he said, pocketing his hands.

“I suppose you will,” I replied.

He walked away slowly and I realised that evening that my stomach fluttered whenever I thought about the Hawthorne with the green eyes.

***

That night I found it so hard to sleep. Avery was out in a mere few minutes but I couldn’t even shut my eyes. Tossing and turning and tossing and turning until I got so bored that I just slipped out of bed all together. I pulled a pair of socks on and left Avery’s room, beginning to wonder the dark hallway. I didn’t really think any of it through. Wandering in the dark, alone, in a house I didn’t know, surrounded by people I didn’t know.

“Midnight wandering are we?”

His voice made me jump but I didn’t let him see that. I turned around to see Jameson Hawthorne stood behind me. How long had he been there then? He looked so poised, so ready, like a big cat on the prowl. He needed to know I wasn’t his prey.

“Maybe,” I replied, a smile adorning my lips, “but even if I am I don’t know why that’s any of your concern.”

“Maybe I’m not concerned, just curious,” he said, “are you lost?”

“No,” I lied to myself and the world.

He waited a few beats.

“Maybe a little,” I smiled shyly, “this place is even harder the navigate in the dark.”

“Lucky for you I know it like the back of my hand,” he did, extending his hand towards me.

I stared at it, “do you want me to hold it or something?”

“No,” he shrugged, “I mean if you want to-“

“No,” I blurted out quickly, “not at all.”

He dropped his hand, a shadow of an expression I couldn’t read shifting across his face.

“Follow me then,” he said, shooting me a lopsided grin that I somehow manage to make out in the dark.

I walked beside him. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and slightly baggy pyjama pants. My cheeked heated up as I suddenly became horribly aware that I was dressed in my pyjama top reading ‘I need coffee’ and shorts decorated with cartoon coffee cups. I hoped Jameson wasn’t paying that much attention to me.

“So why are you awake?” he asked casually.

“I can’t sleep,” I replied bluntly. There wasn’t much more to it.

“Straight forward as that?” he said.

“Pretty much,” I shrugged, “why are you awake?”

“Can’t sleep,” he replied, with a small smile.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“Am I stealing your thunder?” he played along.

“Very much so,” I said, folding my arms across my chest, with a pointed stare laced with banter.

“My deepest apologies,” he exaggerated.

“Not accepted!” I exclaimed.

He grinned, then shoved his hands in his pockets, “Where do you want to go first?”

“Where would you like to take me?” I countered.

“I respect people who answer questions with questions,” he noted.

“Good because I do it far too often,” I told him.

“We’re going to the games room,” he announced.

“Why?” I questioned, like a whiny child.

“Because it is where I’d like to take you,” he shrugged delicately, before picking up the pace with longer leg strides.

I struggled to keep up as I asked, “this isn’t going to be like one of those sadistic murders where you cook me alive and blame it on someone else is it?”

“How did you figure out my master plan?” he teased, with a joking expression.

“I guess you’re just too predictable,” I replied, with a laugh.

“So you watch true crime then?” Jameson said.

From that comment I gathered he was an analyser. Just like me. He analysed conversation and made educated assumptions about people. But what split us apart was that he had the courage to say it to there faces, I kept all my observations in my head. I didn’t care if they were unconfirmed. But Jameson did.

“I listen to a podcast now and then, not a fanatic or anything like that,” I replied.

“Should we play a game?” he said to me, changing the subject suddenly.

“I thought we were going to a games room?” I said.

He thought for a moment and then responded, “a pre-game game.”

“I’ve heard you and your family are quite fond of those,” I said.

“Oh really?” he joked, quirking a brow.

“Yes really,” I grinned back.

“I see,” he pondered “and do you like games?”

“Depends,” I replied.

“On…” he prompted.

“What I’m playing,” I told him, “who I’m playing it with and why I’m playing it.”

“Interesting,” he hummed, opting thoughtful tone, “the man who makes it doesn’t want it, the man who buys it doesn’t need it and the man who needs it doesn’t know it yet.”

“Is that a riddle?” I almost laughed. It was so out of the blue, so sudden asking me a riddle in the middle of a conversation.

“Is my last name Hawthorne?” he countered with a smirk.

“A coffin,” I answered briskly. It wasn’t difficult to work out.

His eyebrows flew to his forehead, “that was fast.”

“Your riddle was maudlin and far too simple,” I shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow, “too easy? Okay, let’s try another and see if you’re as cocky.”

“Not cocky, just honest,” I replied.

He paused for a moment, thinking, “how can you physically stand behind your father while he is standing behind you?”

“My father is dead,” I said. It was true. I don’t know he I suddenly felt the need to blurt it out. It just happened.

“Oh-“

“But we’d have to be standing back to back,” I replied quietly, “that’s the answer to your riddle.”

“Correct again,” he nodded, then hesitated, “and I’m sorry about your dad,”

“Oh it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” I shrugged lightly, “I was young when it happened.”

I didn’t remember much, just being told I wouldn’t see him ever again. I had asked why and they had said he was going to stay in the stars now. And when I asked them if he’d ever come and visit, they told me couldn’t. So I cried. During the most part of my childhood I despised the stars, I’d stare up at them with a tear streaked face and curse them for stealing my dad. When I got older I realised the only thief was death and that the stars were nothing but a metaphor to hold a memory.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

I shoot him a small smiled, letting him know I’m okay and that we can move on. He read my expression well and together we carry on. After a little while he stopped in his tracks outside a set of doors. I almost crashed into the back of him as he paused to abruptly. He swung both doors open at the same time, having a little ‘Elsa’ moment in let it go, as he walked through with his held high. I quickly followed, trying not to gape at the extraordinary components of the room.

There was a pool or was it a snooker table, there was air hockey, ping pong, table football, everything you could ever imagine. There was also a regular coffee table, surrounded by comfy looking chairs and a sofa. But what caught my eye the most was the games cabinet. It was a sight to behold. It covered an entire wall and reached all the way up to the ceiling. There was a ladder on the side that looked like it could slide across, like a book ladder. Within the cabinet laid dozens upon dozens of board games and other games alike were piled atop of each other, like books in an old crooked bookshop, all slanted and uneven in the most perfect of ways. There must’ve been thousands of games here. Jameson caught me staring.

“Ever played chess?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t live under a rock you know,” I deadpanned.

He cracked a smile, “good.”

He jumped on the ladder and swiftly pulled out one of the several chessboards from the shelf and placed it down on the little coffee table. I followed him there and we both sat down. He then began to set it up and I was quick to help out the pieces in place.

“How good are you?” he asked.

“Why? You scared?” I teased, attempting to psych him out before the game even started.

“Only curious,” he said, cool as a cucumber.

“I can’t say,” I shrugged, “how can I judge my own ability fairly, I’m biased.”

“I suppose,” he replied, “but you would know if you’re alright at it.”

“I’ve won before,” I said. Actually I’d won quite a lot before, many many times. I wasn’t exactly lying, just being vague to work in my favour.

The board is set up, “what colour?”

“You choose,” I told him.

He shifted the board so the black chess pieces are on his side. Secretly my preference was the white anyway. I did a quick analysis of the board and sketch out a rough game plan in my head. I didn’t spend to long thinking, this game could go anyway and I didn’t want to be thrown off, but knowing what you sort of want to do was a start. Definitely the first few moves anyway.

“You start,” he urged.

“Such a gentleman,” I joked.

“I can’t help it,” Jameson winked in response.

I picked up a pawn between my middle finger a thumb, surprised at how smooth the finish was. This was an expensive chess set. I went with my classic start move of two spaces forwards into the centre. He grinned and mirrored the move on his turn.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“I would apologise but you still haven’t forgiven me from earlier,” he shrugged in reply.

“And I probably never will,” I grinned.

“Is this the beginning of some Shakespearean vendetta?” he scoffed, with a playful undertone.

“It might be, we’ll have to see,” I shrugged, “I haven’t decided whether it’s a comedy or tragedy yet.”

“Pick comedy, I don’t want to die at the end,” he said.

“We’re all going to die at the end,” I told him.

He replied, “not what I meant.”

“I know,” I smiled.

“You’re getting in my head,” he observed, realising my tactic.

“Am I?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

“Yes you’re distracting me from the game,” he said sharply.

“Oh I hadn’t even realised!” I exclaim, doe eyed and innocent.

He narrowed his eyes at me, “your move.”

“Right,” I nodded.

We didn’t have much conversation after that. Actually the only conversation consisted of ‘your turn’ or ‘thanks’. Other than that only the sound of chess pieces being slid about the board could be heard as well as the dull silence that seemed like the loudest sound of them all.

Jameson had a lot of my pieces, the ones I didn’t need in my opinion. I let him have them, I want him to think I don’t know how to defend my pieces.

go on… my mind smiles, please. underestimate me.

I was deceptive and wanted him to underestimate me so I could surprise him, catch him off guard and steal the game from right under his annoyingly perfect nose. But Jameson Hawthorne wasn’t a big of a fool as I thought him to be. The few times I’d been forced to pull out critical moves, he noted them. He began to realise my talent for the game about half way through. He too was a talented player. His moves were swift but calculated, he was going to be a hard opponent to beat.

Move after move. Minute after minute. It was getting intense. Every move was critical, every second in between play was agonising. I found myself constantly self-consciously chewing on my bottom lip, captivated in my concentrated state.

He made his move and suddenly I realised what I can do. I could take a risk and bargain on what his next move was to trick him, but the tactic would only work if he moved the piece I needed him to move, otherwise it was checkmate for me. I sat there, weighing up my options. There was a chance he’d work it out and beat me, but there was also a chance he wouldn’t and I’d beat him. My eyes darted from left to right and back again until I impulsively took the chance. Praying my efforts had paid off, I watch his painstakingly slow next move. He shifted his knight diagonally by two. I wanted to stand up and scream in joy. I had him trapped. Brilliant. My calculated risk had actually worked. I kept a poker face as I realised he’d not yet noticed that I was a venus flytrap and he had crawled blindly towards me.

“Checkmate,” I smiled, leaning back.

His eyes were wide with surprise as his eyebrows shot up to his forehead. The reaction was so real, he didn’t have time to hide it. His jaw wanted to hang down but he was stopping it, I could see the clenched muscles.

“What?” I asked “didn’t plan on being beaten?”

“I was going easy on you,” he gritted through his teeth.

I grinned widely. So losing was a sore spot for Me Hawthorne. Interesting.

“That would explain why you look so shocked that I won,” I said with a sweet victorious smile.

“Fine, rematch but this time we play Hawthorne chess,” he replied, as if it were a deadly game.

“Hawthorne chess?” I raised my eyebrows.

He only smirked in reply.

***

He explained the rules. It was a lot like regular chess but there were six boards to play over and a few added rules that confused me. It wasn’t long before Jameson had me cornered.

“Checkmate,” he grinned, nicking my king.

“I was going easy on you,” I teased, mocking his earlier comment.

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned, looking very unamused.

“Is your ego mended now you have a win?” I asked.

“Not quite,” he replied.

“Shame,” I pouted.

“Another match?” he suggested.

I shook my head then rubbed my temples, “I can feel a headache coming on. It’s probably from my lack of sleep.”

“Do you want me to walk you to bed?” he offered.

I shook my head again, “I’m not tired. My head just hurts.”

“I know something that might help,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Fancy taking a trip the kitchen?”

“This is feeling very serial killer-y again.”

“I only snap into serial killer-y mode every third Wednesday,” he joked.

“Well now I know I’m safe!” I grinned back at him

***

We walked to the kitchen together and I noted it was a completely different route to the one I’d taken with Xander’s instructions this morning with Avery.

Once we got there Jameson leaned against the counter and asked me, “do you like hot chocolate?”

I nodded.

“Or would you prefer a coffee?”

His eyes were pinned to my pyjama set as he said it. I self-consciously looked down and blush a deep shade of scarlet, remembering the deign, as he snickered.

“Very witty,” I rolled my eyes sarcastically, “hot chocolate is fine.”

He fumbled around for a saucepan in the endless row of cupboards. I didn’t know how he knew which one to search in, they were all identical. He put it onto the hob and added some milk.

“Our cook goes home after serving dinner so I’ve gotten pretty good at midnight concoctions,” he explained.

“The way you say that makes me a little nervous there,” I told him.

“Maybe you should be,” he flashed a smile.

He put the hon on to heat up the milk and grabbed the instant hot chocolate powder, whipped cream, mini marshmallows and sprinkles.

“Are you five years old?” I laughed.

“Mentally,” he nodded, “is that an issue?”

“Not at all,” I said , “I’m with you there.”

“Nice to know I have a fellow person who had the metal capacity of five year old too,” he beamed, “our conversations will be incredible.”

“We’re having a conversation right now,” I stuck my tongue out, childishly.

“I’m describing the ones in the future,” he rolled his eyes, before returning my tongue gesture by poking out his own.

I smiled to myself as I watched him silently. Even at this time at night - or was it morning by now - he looked good. I wished I could see him like this every night and not feel like I was stealing glances at him.

“So what about you?” Jameson asked suddenly.

“What about me?” I chuckled.

“Well I don’t know much about you,” he clarified.

“You know my name,” I shrugged, searching for more information about myself, “I’m seventeen, Avery is my best friend, my dad’s dead, I like hot chocolate but I also like coffee, I find the rain relaxing, I used to play chess a lot, I like to read novels, I don’t like sleeping but I do all at the same time… now what about you?”

“What about me?” he tilted his head to the side, copying what is aid moments ago

“I gave you my information now you give me yours.”

“Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, I’m eighteen,” he began, “my best friends are my brothers, I don’t know my dad at all, my grandfather liked to give me games, I like hot chocolate and coffee, I prefer the snow to the rain, I have played chess since I could talk, I like to read too and I love sleeping but I don’t do enough of it.”

He’s countered all off my points and mirrored them with his own. It was interesting to compare us. We were similar but so different. I was about to reply but he cut me off.

“Woah!”

“What?” I asked.

“The milk!” He yelled, worry outlining his features.

I spun around to see the saucepan emitting in a thick blanket of steam.

“Why is it smoking? Can milk even smoke?” he shouted.

“It’s steam!” I rolled my eyes.

“Can milk even steam then?” he quipped.

“It’s a boiling liquid of course it can steam!” I exclaimed, for someone so smart, I did wonder how he was acting so stupidly.

“What do I do?” he panicked, the stress evident.

“Take it off the heat!” I cried out. I’d thought that was logical but no. Apparently it was not.

“Oh shit, yeah,” he said, almost laughing

He took the pan off of the heat and the steam began to die down. We made eye contact and started laughing like mad people, until our lungs couldn’t take it anymore and we had to get our breaths back, our bellies aching. We just seemed to fit, me and him. It was like we were the two missing pieces of a jigsaw that have been lost between the sofa cushions for years and now we’d finally been found and put together to complete the puzzle.

The milk turned out pretty much okay and we prepared the drinks a lot easier than we’d heated them. Jameson added every topping going excessively, which made me shake my head and laugh. When we were both done I took a sip, the warm liquid seeping through my body to the tips of my toes, making me feel a little less cold. It was delicious.

“Verdict boss?”

“S’alright,” I shrugged, “I’m kidding, it’s really lovely actually.”

“I agree,” he nodded, “maybe I should smoke my the milk more often.”

I laughed, “you didn’t smoke the milk, it just got a bit steamy.”

“Steamy,” he wiggled his eyebrows

“You really do have the brain of a five year old,” I sighed inwardly.

“Hey! I thought we already established that and moved on,” he said.

“I felt like we needed the conversation to resurface but we’ll put it to bed,” I sighed, then with a mischievous look on my face added, “for now.”

He grinned at me, taking another swig of his hot chocolate, this time getting whipped cream on his nose. I subtly rubbed my nose, hoping he’d mirror my body language or take the hint. He did. Silence hit us like a bus would hit an animal running across the road in the dead of night. Quickly. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but nor was it comfortable. It just was. The only sound was the occasional sip of our hot chocolates.

After a while, I became aware that he was looking at me, actually it was more like staring. It was an analytical look in his eyes, like I was some sort of science experiment rather than a person.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, trying not to squirm as he held his gaze.

“You’re a lot like Avery you know,” he replied thoughtfully.

The comment caught me off guard and I couldn’t work out why. It wasn’t exactly an insult but it hit me like one. Why was Avery on his mind? And why was she on his mind whilst he was looking at me?

“Our brains work in similar ways,” I hummed, “I think that’s why we’re so close.”

“I noticed that,” he nodded, “but I also noticed you’re quite different at the very same time.”

The same and different? Being cryptic, I’ve decided, is a Hawthorne personality trait.

“How so?” I said.

“There’s something about you that is…” he paused to find the right word, “bolder.”

Bold? Really? That was one of last words I would have described myself with.

“You’ve only known me for a day,” I scoffed, “and you haven’t exactly known Avery for that long either.”

“I know,” he replied, “but you’ll find I’m very observant.”

It was only then I noticed his smile. It was the same smile Nash had on his face when he looked a Libby. And I hated to admit it but he look beautiful. His eyes illuminated, sparkling, bright. He looked genuinely happy. It made my heart melt a little, I wanted to see that smile every day. There was only major problem. I didn’t know if he was smiling at the thought of me or the thought of Avery. He could have easily be thinking about either of us and I didn’t want to get the wrong idea.

“You think Avery’s some sort of riddle,” I stated, trying not to let the bitterness seep through my tone.

“And you don’t like that?” he observed, an eyebrow raised.

“Any person who values another as just another game doesn’t get my greatest sympathies, no,” I told him blatantly.

“And what if she is?” he challenged, defensive.

“Is that all she is to you? Just a game?” I asked, getting angrier by the second, “what happens when the game ends Hawthorne, ask yourself that.”

“Then the game ends,” he shrugged, nonchalant as ever, “there’s not much more to say.”

“So she becomes nothing if not a tool for your own wants and needs?” I asked, stating it as bluntly as a pencil that barely writes.

“I didn’t say that,” Jameson insisted, a mixture of feelings betraying the usual mask he hid behind.

“You’re implying it,” I hissed, my eyes overcast, darkened.

He didn’t deny it and that gave me the only answer I needed.

“Now I don’t know you very well, but from what I have to go off of, I didn’t pin you as someone who was selfish,” I told him, raw passion in my voice, “a little bit cocky and far too brave, sure, but not selfish,” I snapped, my tone sharper, “but you’re acting like it and it’s not fair.”

He didn’t reply. Instead he morphed into some sort of stone statue, unmoving, unemotional, unwavering. I felt like a mother scolding her reluctant child.

“And did you even consider how hard this has been for her?” I questioned him, “coming here, to this labyrinth of a house, her life now dictated by a will, forever changed. She’ll never be able to walk the streets again like a normal person without paparazzi bombarding her. She’s just about adjusting to living here, one of your brothers seems like he wants to kill her, you treat her as if she’s a game and she’s being bombarded by the media, I mean the poor girl doesn’t even know why she’s here. She didn’t ask for this and I don’t want her to have to put up with your ‘I’m a Hawthorne so I’m going to use you because I’m entitled’ shit.”

Again, I got no response. For someone so witty and poetic with his words it was odd that now he chose to be silent. He stood still and said nothing. I wanted to shake him until he made a sound but instead I chose to be diplomatic, I chose to carry on.

“You can’t think of her like that, it’s not fair. Not for her or for yourself,” I said, “if you go by your whole life thinking everyone and everything is a game you’re going to lose people, fast.”

“You sound experienced,” he finally said, not replying to a word of my rant just picking out who he thought I was.

“Yeah well maybe I am,” I laughed bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t realise what it might feel like from her perspective of things. I’m used to being in my grandfather’s world, a world full of games and tricks and puzzles.”

“People aren’t puzzles,” I snapped.

“I disagree with you there,” he said, “people shouldn’t be treated like puzzles but every person is a puzzle.”

“Am I a puzzle to you Jameson?” I challenged, taking a step towards him.

“You’re one of the most intriguing ones yet,” he whispered, moving closer to me.

“Funny, I think I could say the same about you,” I murmured.

My face was inches from his, close enough to see his beauty up close. It was even more breathtaking. He looked down at me, his eyes so tentative, so gentle. We moved closer into each other, like a magnetic force was reeling us in, we had no control. It felt natural, it felt right. Our lips were about to brush…

He cleared his throat and pulled away quickly. My face grew very flushed as my eyes darted to the nearest corner of the room I could focus on.

“Still not tired?” he asks after a few beats of silence.

“Not in the slightest,” I replied, our eyes connecting once again. The soft rolling fields of hypnotic emeralds once again speeding up my heart rate.

“Good because neither am I,” he smirked, “say, have you ever played strip bowling?”

Now this could get interesting.

a/n: again, I’m really sorry for how long this took me to write and I realise it’s not my most amazing work, so sorry 😔😔 I really wanted to portray a strong friendship with Avery as well as interest in Jameson but idk if that was achieved. anyways hope this was okay, thanks for reading <3

TIG masterlist

#jameson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x reader #jameson x reader #jameson #i love jameson hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #the inheritance games #tig #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #tig fics #tig fic #the hawthorne legacy #love to write #writing #the grandest game #tgg #jennifer lynn barnes

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azsazz · 1 year

Text

Come Again?

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

Summary: One-liner request from @writingsbychlo: “do you have any idea how to use that? do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Also for the anons who requested: "Omg please write more for Ruhn, our crescent city men are so underrated in this fandom! I love the crescent city modern world! I would love to see Ruhn using a toy on the reader maybe?? I don’t know if that’s in your comfort zone and if it isn’t I’m sorry but it’s been giving me brain rot 😭 I absolutely love your writing!" and "Ik you said you didn’t have anymore ideas for Ruhn, but…..Rhun with a vibrator that’s all I’m gonna say"

Warnings: Smut, vibrator

Word Count: 1,974

Notes: Fulfilling lots of requests with this one. 😉

_________________________________________

“Do you have any idea how to use that?” You tease, not at all embarrassed at the sight of your mate holding the toy you’d left out from last night. “Do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Ruhn examines the pink bullet in his hands curiously. It’s almost a mocking manner, how he twists it left and right, like he’s trying dramatically to make sense of the toy to pull a smile from you. It’s not even as long as one of his fingers, he notes, mouth flattening sourly. It means to him that you don’t get off on how large he is, if something this small can make you cum just as well as he can.

What’s stopping you from leaving him, if you’re satisfied with this?

“You don’t need me anymore, I see,” he bares his teeth a little, jealous of the vibrator he’s holding in his hand. While it nowhere near compares to the cock that’s lengthening in his pants, he pictures instead you using the toy on yourself. Ruhn wonders if the things the vibrator does draws the same noises you do for him.

You roll your eyes in response, stretching your body long across your bed, reveling in the feeling of your mate’s eyes tracing the lines of your body. Ruhn tongues at his piercing in a way he knows drives you mad, but his gaze returns to the toy, narrow-eyed as if it might actually be the thing you’re replacing him with.

“Well,” you drawl, teasing a hand up your front. You want him to use it on you, set it to the fastest speed and press it against your clit while he impales you with his large cock. You shiver, tracing a nipple with a finger as you continue. “If you let me move in, I wouldn’t have to use that on nights I get lonely.”

Ruhn’s nostrils flare, pupils growing wide as you spread your legs for him, teasing him even more. Your pretty eyes flick to the vibrator in his hand and back to his, and you watch his face brighten, the curve of his lips into a mischievous smirk that spells out at least four orgasms as he fully understands what you’re needing from him and your little toy.

He flips the toy on and it reverberates loudly, sending shockwaves up his tattooed arms. He can understand why this would be pleasurable, especially if it has your legs falling open so easily, conditioned by the pink toy’s noises. Ruhn clutches the vibrator in hand, crawling up onto the bed between your legs. He looks like a predator, majestic muscles underneath his tight t-shirt rippling with every movement.

“If I let you move in with me,” he murmurs against your skin, his words hot and breathy against your thighs as he removes your pants and underwear in one go. Your breath catches in your throat as he drags the pulsing toy across your hip bone and your fingers find his hair, tangling in inky locks to try and pull him closer to your cunt that’s pulsing with need. “I would never get anything done.”

“Yes,” you hiss as he nips at the soft skin of your navel, working higher and higher, dragging your shirt up with him as he goes. “Because smoking with Dec and Flynn takes up so much of your time.”

Ruhn chuckles, pressing his body flat against yours. You don’t know when he shed himself of his own shirt but you don’t care, reveling in the way that his chest vibrates against yours and his contained cock settles against your wet and needy cunt.

The texture of his jeans brushes your core and you arch into the bed with a depraved sort of noise. Gods, he’s mouthing across your neck, sucking harshly as punishment for your snarkiness. Oh, he’ll get you back for that one. The toy in his hand will make sure of that. It’s about to become his new best friend.

“We’re busy boys, Deer. Having you around will only distract them further,” he says against your mouth, stealing a kiss as he gently presses the vibrator to the pulse in your throat. They’re nearly beating the same rate and it makes you shudder and mewl, canting your hips for some of the glorious friction the roughness of his jeans cause. “And I don’t like to share.”

“Ruhn,” you gasp, fisting your fingers into the sheets. You can’t bear it, the feeling of him sucking marks into your neck, branding you with his lips. His piercing drags cold against your pert nipple as he makes his way downward, but he’s going much too slow, sliding the vibrator between your breasts in a hot line.

Excitement stirs in your gut as you jerk faster against him. He’s trying to pin you to the bed with his hips but it only makes everything dig deliciously into you—

Your mate senses this, pulling away from you, ignoring your frustrated cry.

“Please,” you beg, eyes flying wide. You hadn’t realized that they’d fallen shut in utter bliss, working hard for the orgasm tingling between your legs. Your clit throbs at the sight of your shirtless mate kneeling above you. He looks like a God, staring down at you with dark eyes and a wicked grin.

“Are you talking to me, Deer,” he asks, holding up the buzzing pink toy, “Or this?”

You growl, exasperated. Surging, you press up on your hands, aiming to reach out and grab him by the loopholes of his pants. If he won’t give you what you want you’ll finish yourself, but the way he’s clutching onto your vibrator…is that what you look like when you’re using it as well?

“Be nice, Ruhn,” you pout when he doesn’t budge. His blue eyes sparkle. Ruhn loves keeping you on edge. But using your toy against you is purely tortuous.

He tuts, one hand moving to the button of his pants while the one holding your vibrator presses gently to your shoulder, a soft motion telling you he wants you to lie back.

“Okay, Deer. I’ll stop teasing.” You huff, glaring up at him. You’re trying to ignore the incessant buzzing by your ear but it’s calling to you, wanting you to shove Ruhn out of your room and use it because it would never tease you like that. “Do you want me?”

His tone turns utterly soft with his question. Insecure, almost. But your brows pull tightly together as you assess your mate and his unclear question. He could mean anything by that. Do you want me to go down on you? Yes. Do you want me to use the vibrator on you until your bed is soaked through with your pleasure? Yes. Do you want me to stuff you full of my cock until you milk me of my cum? Yes.

Upon seeing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you want me to stay?”

A part of you melts. Of course, you want him to stay. You want him to stay forever, tangled up in the sheet with you until the end of time, but it’s not possible. Your cunt still throbs for him, and right now, all you really want is to cum.

“Of course, I want you,” you reach out a gentle hand and he meets you halfway, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, Ruhn. More than I have ever loved anything,” you trail off, taking his other hand, the one that’s clutching the vibrator, urging him slowly to your awaiting cunt. Your voice shudders with pleasure as it touches your sensitive clit, and Ruhn swallows thickly. “But what I’d really love is to cum, by you. Now. Please.” You add, an afterthought, writhing on the bed for him.

Ruhn curses low, watching the way your body reacts to the toy in his hands. Your fingers slacken, then fall from his wrist completely, letting him take over. His eyes blaze when you whimper and cry out when he slides the vibrator through your folds. Fuck, you’re soaking wet, thighs glistening, his fingers drenched as he slips the toy into your cunt and his thumb brushes across your clit.

“I can do that,” he answers breathlessly. You moan his name sinfully in response, and it shoves him into action. His cock is achingly hard, trapped in the confines of his pants. It’s a struggle to get out of them, but he refuses to remove a hand from the toy shoved deeply into your snatch, all too caught up in your keening responses to the little thing.

It’s awkward to try and kick out of his underwear while he still pleases you, but you don’t seem to mind the slight shifting and cursing going on because your eyes are rolled into the back of your head with pleasure, hands tweaking your nipples. “Ruhn,” you pant, “Get on me, please.”

He doesn’t hesitate and you moan lewdly as his hot body presses against yours again, drowning you with desperate kisses. You push against him just as fervently, hands eagerly roaming the plains of his muscles as he moves against you. The thickness of his cock slides against your soaking cunt and the vibrator that has your body shaking, but you want more. You want him.

As if he’s reading your mind, Ruhn removes the vibrator and presses into you in one fell swoop, forcing the air from your lungs as his long length meets your womb. He directs the vibrator up slightly, pounding into you as he holds it to your clit, swallowing down your loud cry. You press your breasts into his chest, and the scrape of your nipples against his pectorals is utterly delicious and your back bows for more.

It’s almost too much, the vibrator pressed to your clit as Ruhn works his cock into you with an eagerness you haven’t seen in a while. Neither of you had ever mentioned the possibility of using toys in bed and now you’re sure you’d be questioning yourself why if you weren’t on the edge of the most bone-shaking orgasm.

“Ruhn,” you cry, clawing at your mate. He grunts in response, jackknifing into you faster. The pulsing from your toy makes you shake, and he can feel the reverberations in his own cock. He’s drowning in pleasure, with how utterly soaking you are for him, the way you’re clinging to him and begging him to fuck you. The way your cunt clenches around his cock, coaxing his orgasm from him and your body drinking it greedily. There’s no way he would’ve lasted with you like this, but he wants to take you over and over again, all night with the way you scream his name, cresting over your own edge.

Your mate sees you through your orgasm, but the buzzing doesn’t let up, even when you begin to squirm and plead for him to stop. He’s buried deep into your core, loving every second of the way you convulse around him. Ruhn keeps his cum pressed in deep, and his teeth are sharp as they scrape against your collarbone, working his way up to your ear. You cling to him, rutting your hips like a goddamn whore, begging.

“Please,” your voice is weak, quivering, his broad shoulders lined with red marks as you cling to him.

“Shh, Deer, it’s alright. Just give me one more, baby. One more and I’ll turn the vibrator off,” he grins smugly down at you. Your hair is strewn about the pillows, forehead beading with sweat. Your eyes are shut tightly, mouth agape in a desperate gasp for air. What you don’t see is the glint in his gaze, the one that tells you he might be turning off the vibrator but it will in no way be your last orgasm of the night.

#ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan #crescent city #sjm cc #azsazz

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imgeekgirlfan · 16 days

Text

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : VI]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings: Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader) [The Acolyte]

Content waring : 18+ smut/nsfw, manipulation, fingering, p in v, virgnity loss, unprotected sex, creampie (Just asking for a friend: Do the Bene Gesserit need a condom?🤔)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: On your twentieth birthday, after spending nearly three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him. And from that moment, your relationship with him will never be the same again.

Status: work in progress (This is a long fanfic that will be about 10+ chapters.)

A/N : As mentioned, This fan fiction mixes elements from two universes, so some details might not match canon perfectly. I’ve made adjustments but will try to keep key canon elements intact. I hope you read this for enjoyment, not to nitpick details.

ps. Writing smut in English is rather demanding for me. I hope you can forgive any mistakes in this EP. I’ve done my best 😭

➡ Intro // EP : I // EP : II // EP : III // EP : IV // EP : V // EP : VII

[Episodes 6] Four things cannot be hidden—love, smoke, a pillar of fire and a man striding across the open bled.

On your twentieth birthday, after spending three years with Qimir, you finally decide to reveal your secret to him.

There is no point in hiding it any longer, especially after he has already seen something he shouldn’t have on that ship. Besides, you no longer wish to conceal it. That near-death experience has changed your perspective—not just on your own feelings but also on the visions that have surfaced from deep within your subconscious. Through the fog of time, you sense profound changes—both in the future paths and in the bond between you and him.

A bond you never wanted to form. Feelings you wish to deny. But no matter how hard you try, in the end, you can’t escape it.

Sometimes, fate has a strange way of twisting things—you can’t help but think that when you recall your first meeting. You hated Qimir with all the intensity of your feelings. You couldn’t stand him. There were moments you even plotted his death, planning to flee far away. But who would have thought that three years later, you’d find yourself lying in his arms on a small bed in a rundown hotel near the Starports on Olega, far removed from the bloody events on Tatooine.

You are uncertain if it can even be called love. But one thing is certain: Qimir's presence changes your life forever. He changes you. You change him. And you have no idea if it is for better or worse.

Resting your head on Qimir's chest, you let his large hand caress your back. It's strange how safe you feel with him, despite having witnessed him kill so many people.

But it's not just you who feels this way. Qimir doesn't seem to fear you either. His words are blunt and direct when he finally asks about what he's seen. "I saw what you did—you control people with just your words," Qimir says. "What exactly are you? A member of some witch's coven?"

He turns on his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, holding you close as if to comfort you from the terrifying events that have unfolded earlier. Yet at the same time, it is clear he intends to keep you there, preventing you from leaving until you answer his question honestly.

You know Qimir’s intent, but do not push back. You remain silent for a moment before replying.

"It is an ancient technique passed down by my people," you confess, feeling as though you are revealing a terrible sin to some forgotten god. "We use our voice to command others, bending their will to our desires." You pause before adding, "And no, I am not part of any witch’s coven. My mother said those covens are nothing but lowly imitators, trying to replicate what we truly are."

"Your people? What do you mean?" Qimir frowns, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. A wave of unease washes over you as you realize that the moment of truth is finally upon you.

“I am Bene Gesserit.”

Bene Gesserit—those words, foreign to most in this age, are known only to a select few who have studied ancient history.

According to old records, before the rise of the Jedi Order, the Bene Gesserit was a powerful religious order that held great power throughout the galaxy, known as the Sisterhood. They only accepted women deemed worthy into their ranks.

It is said that the Bene Gesserit were the true originators of the Force, passing down their teachings through generations. The Bene Gesserit sisters possessed mysterious powers and physical capabilities far beyond the reach of ordinary people. They could neutralize poisons within their own bodies, control others with the power of the voice, and train their minds and bodies to heights that defied natural limits. Some could even glimpse into the future with an eerie sense of prophecy, though only fragments of what was to come—except for the Reverend Mothers who led the order. They alone held the power to peer through the memories of their ancestors, journeying through the past, present, and distant future.

And it was this obsession with the visions they received that drove their beliefs. The Bene Gesserit were convinced that the universe was heading toward destruction, haunted by the prospect of a terrible future. Their only solution was to guide human evolution to its pinnacle through meticulous breeding programs that spanned generations. They strengthened their power by sending their sisters to marry and breed with the ruling houses of various planets, integrating themselves into the political and religious structures, and influencing every layer of society, from the lowest to the highest ranks—all for one ultimate goal: the creation of the Kwisatz Haderach, a superior human who transcended all others.

Yet ironically, it was the Kwisatz Haderach himself who brought about the very doom of the universe, which the Bene Gesserit had feared and attempted to avoid all along.

The Bene Gesserit succeeded in creating the Kwisatz Haderach as intended, but they utterly failed to control him. Paul Atreides, the only son of Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica of the Atreides, a Bene Gesserit sister, became a religious icon before he reached twenty. He was revered as the Lisan al Gaib—Voice from the Outer World—and was worshiped as a godhead. He led the Fremen, the ancient people of Arrakis, in a jihad that spread across the galaxy. Tens of millions perished in the holy war, and hundreds of millions more during the tyrannical rule of the Kwisatz Haderach’s own son.

Eventually, the Kwisatz Haderach's dynasty was annihilated by the vengeful masses, and the universe slowly began to heal, giving rise to numerous new sects, including the Jedi Order.

The Bene Gesserit were said to have vanished during this time, and rumors of their demise were widespread. Some claimed that the Kwisatz Haderach, driven by his hatred for the Sisterhood, had eradicated them entirely, while others believed they were blamed for the jihad and were hunted down by the vengeful populace.

Regardless of the cause, the true reason for the destruction of the Bene Gesserit was their overwhelming power and the mysterious goals they pursued. It was decided that the Bene Gesserit witches should no longer exist in the universe, as no one wanted to risk the emergence of a second Kwisatz Haderach.

For thousands of years, you have been the last Bene Gesserit. Although your skills and powers are far weaker than those of your ancestors due to a lack of proper training, you still surpass both Jedi and Sith. Your power is the source of the Force they wield—an ancient power that none can fully replicate unless they are also Bene Gesserit.

“I am not only a Bene Gesserit; I am also a Fremen,” you reveal, deciding to share another layer of your secret with him. You point to your deep blue eyes, the eyes of Ibad, the distinct mark of your ancient race, now long extinct along with the Bene Gesserit. “My Fremen name is Hara[1], a name known only to my mother."

You are surprised at yourself for disclosing your Fremen name to him. For the Fremen, a tribal name carries deep meaning and significance, given only to those who can be trusted completely.

However, you feel a sense of relief after finally speaking, though it's not complete. There are still secrets you haven’t shared with him, but revealing this much is already more than enough. You trust Qimir, but you are unsure how much of this truth he can truly accept. Deep down, you are terrified he might see you as a monster, shun you, or worse, decide to eliminate you like others might. Your very existence might be too dangerous to allow you to survive.

But Qimir says nothing. He appears deep in thought, his expression unreadable. You can’t discern his feelings, and the silence grows unbearable. Finally, you ask, 'Do you fear me now that you know who I am?'"

As the words leave your mouth, you bite your lip unconsciously while waiting for his reply, worry gnawing at you. How strange it is to be afraid of his rejection more than your own death."

"Fear?" Qimir tilts his head, puzzled by your question for a moment. Seeing your distressed expression, he quickly grasps your concern. "I have no reason to fear you," he says, stepping closer to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, then the tip of your nose. "I do not fear you," he emphasizes, sealing his words with a firm kiss on your lips.

You let Qimir kiss you a little longer. When he finally gives you a chance to catch your breath, you ask, 'Even though I am dangerous?' Your voice is barely a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

Everything feels too perfect and too smooth, and instead of providing reassurance, it only makes you feel more uneasy.

Qimir smiles widely, almost as if he wants to laugh but is holding it back. "Oh, in that case, it’s me you should fear more." He teases, his tone playful, as he resumes kissing you. Not on your lips, but now on your ear, nibbling playfully, while one of his hands moves up to your breast, caressing and teasing your nipple through the fabric with his thumb.

Your eyes widen as you realize what is about to happen. You grab Qimir’s arm, quickly halting his mischievous actions before things can go any further. “Qimir,” you call out his name, your heart pounding, your voice faltering with each shaky breath.

Qimir stops immediately, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. You see the clear reflection of desire in his dark eyes. “Don’t want to?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of pleading, though the playful smirk at the corner of his mouth suggests something more sly, as if he knows every thought in your mind without reading it, knowing that you won’t refuse.

His knowing demeanor makes you feel annoyed, but there is little you can do. In a situation like this, you are at a disadvantage in nearly every way.

“Well, I…” You try to speak but hesitate for a moment, your cheeks burning hot as if set aflame. You don’t know how to explain it to him without making yourself feel even more embarrassed. “I don’t know how... I’ve never... you understand, right?”

That isn’t entirely true. Even though you have never been intimate with anyone, you aren’t that naive. As a Bene Gesserit, you can see the past through ancestral memories, which sometimes bring you glimpses of things you shouldn’t see, intruding into your dreams. But dreams and reality are entirely different. You feel out of place, unsure of what to do, like someone who has read extensively but fails when it comes to practical application.

Qimir lets out a clear laugh, his sly smile shifting to one of genuine amusement, making you blush even more. Before you can protest, he seizes the moment and silences you with a kiss.

This time, though, it feels different.

Never before has a kiss between you two felt so deep and intense. His lips and tongue are sharp and distinct as they invade, filled with a potent desire that permeates every touch, burning with unwavering purpose, as if he wants to touch the very core of your being, reaching the true self you have never revealed to anyone.

When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t move far. His mouth lingers on your lips, and his hands gently cradle your cheeks. “Relax, don’t be afraid,” Qimir whispers, his lips trailing to your neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath your skin, then moving down to your chest. “I told you before, you don’t need to hide yourself when you’re with me.” His voice is soft, almost dreamlike, but every touch is real.

You follow his lead, as if under a spell, letting him undress you without resistance. His large hands roam over every part of your soft skin, planting kisses along the curves of your body, from your shoulders down to your hips, and finally to the inside of your thighs. His dark eyes examine your naked form without looking away, not missing a single detail, taking in every perfection and flaw—nothing hidden, nothing concealed.

“I want you to feel every emotion within you—anger, fear, and desire…” The word ‘desire’ from Qimir’s lips was as sweet as honey. “Embrace who you truly are, what you can be, and what you can do when you’re with me—only with me.”

You flinch as his fingertips brush against your delicate folds before sliding inside you. You can feel every knuckle as he slowly works his way deeper, one finger becoming two, gently stretching you as he allows you to grow accustomed to the sensation. He then begins to move them slowly, his thumb rubbing your bud, massaging every sensitive spot inside and out, sending shivers of unfamiliar pleasure through your body.

Waves of strange, stinging bliss ripple across your skin, making you restless as you writhe in the throes of sharp delight. But his other hand presses firmly on your lower abdomen, forcing you to stay still.

“Be a good girl,” Qimir admonishes, a grin tugging at his lips, clearly enjoying watching you struggle helplessly beneath him.

You moan, burying your face in the pillow, your entire body trembling with the intensity of your climax, making you feel like you are floating in a sea of stars. After catching your breath for a moment, you look up to see Qimir hastily removing his own clothes. His skin is pale, his body sculpted with lean, defined muscles, as beautiful as a statue in a temple. But what sets him apart are the scars, some small, some large, like cracks in marble. Yet these imperfections only make him more striking, unique, and beautiful.

Qimir turns to look at you, fully aware that you have been watching him the entire time. His face softens in the dim light, but his eyes remain dark. You sense the intense longing within them—a desire he’s harbored for a long time. You wonder why you never noticed the fragile restraint in him until now. He seems on the verge of snapping, as if he’s been wound too tight, ready to unravel at any moment.

Qimir wastes no time, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close until there’s no space left between you and him. His hardness presses firmly against the crevice of your thighs, the heat spreading through your body as his cock gradually sinks into your swollen slit, filling you completely.

A low moan escapes his lips, soft and barely audible. Qimir pauses briefly, giving you a chance to catch your breath and adjust. As he takes a moment to relish the closeness, he revels in the warmth of your tight, slick, silky walls that embrace his length perfectly.

"It might hurt at first, but it’ll get better soon. Just bear with it," he murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. He plants a warm kiss on your cheek, trying to comfort you as your face contorts with pain. It feels like he’s about to tear you apart as he pushes in fully. You lock eyes with him in shock as a flood of emotions washes over you—strange, frightening, painful, and thrilling all at once.

Your lips part, letting out a silent moan as Qimir begins to move, thrusting in to the hilt until you can feel every inch of him deep within you. He brushes away a stray lock of black hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His lips press a kiss to your sweat-dampened temple as his hips thrust forward, quickening the pace. Your soft inner walls tighten, clenching around him as his tip repeatedly hits your sweet spot.

By now, the pain has subsided, replaced by waves of pleasure building inside you, ready to explode.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you grip Qimir's shoulders as if your life depends on his mercy. Your hips rise to meet his movements, every fiber of your being striving to get closer to him, nearly melding into one.

The rhythm changes slightly, slowing down and becoming less steady but more forceful. You pant heavily, feeling the climax approaching, each movement bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Just a few more thrusts, and you both reach the peak together. He spills into you, his release filling you up and spilling over. The hot, wet feeling of his cum makes your body shiver and feel dizzy, still unaccustomed to these new sensations.

The room gradually returns to calm. When Qimir pulls away, your body suddenly feels light and empty, like weightless cotton. You drift in the calm afterglow, enveloped in his embrace as he nuzzles you, kisses your cheeks and forehead, and caresses your hair tenderly, just as lovers do."

But there are no words of 'love' from his lips. The last thing you hear from Qimir before slipping into sleep is, 'You’re no longer alone. You belong to me.”

Instead of feeling reassured by these words, a strange unease flickers through your mind, as if you've just stepped onto a path of grave mistake.

[1] In Fremen culture (as depicted in the film Dune), Fremen names are special names that differ from regular ones, only shared with outsiders when there’s deep trust and acceptance. For example, Chani tells Paul her Fremen name, 'Sihaya,' as a sign of accepting him as a lover. That’s why the reader needs a Fremen name—it’s culturally important (and I certainly WILL NOT USE Y/N as a Fremen name, absolutely no way!). I’ve hinted at this name since EP : I (if you pay attention, you’ll notice it), and it ties into the story, so I hope you're okay with the name I picked.

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operation-steal-chans-laptop · 1 year

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Brat tamer Chris🥺?? who instead of spanking ur ass, spanks ur clit and kissing it (ie. eating you out mercilessly) better because there’s just something about the teary eyes, swollen wet pussy, and a whiny little princess that’s gone stupid from the sensations that just does it for him🥺🥺🥺🥺😭

It’s all out of love. He knows you can be good for him you just need a little bit more firm direction. And if you get overstimulated along the way? Well….

I SWEAR I DIDNT MEAN TO WHORE OUT LIKE THIS😭you HAVE TO BELIVE ME😭😭IM INNOCENT AT HEART (not really)

I’m sorry if this doesn’t match what you had in mind <3

“Tell me babygirl, why are you being punished?” Understanding is the first step in learning your lesson. He wants to know that you know what you did was wrong and that there are repercussions as a result. “Came without permission” you croak.

It wasn't an accident; Chan was quite understanding in that regard, especially if you had been without his touch for weeks. No, you knew what you were doing when sending him recordings of you whining and moaning while he was at work. You say nothing in the audio recordings in an attempt to tease Chan further. Silently taunting him to do something about it, taunting him to make you talk. Make you tell him how much you needed him, how you missed him and so desperately wanted him home to take care of his princess.

The last clip is what truly sets him off; 20 seconds, that's all it took for you to end up in this position. The sounds of your labored breathing and whimpers growing louder and louder before your voice is finally heard, its faint, almost inaudible. “cumming,” you whine. Chan knows you too well, and even though he can't see you, he can still hear the cocky smirk plastered across your face.

A simple "I love you" text is sent after the recording, trying to play off the fact that you broke a rule. The rule being, you're only allowed to orgasm with his permission.

He now had you on the bed, rid of your clothes and your legs spread out, readying you for your punishment. His eyes are looking up at you from between your legs, and his fingers glide up your folds, his middle finger tracing little circles on your clit. You feel small in the presence of his intense gaze.

“Not even a please.” Chan shakes his head in disapproval, and you feel the warmth of his fingers leave you, the cold air replacing his digits. “Gonna spank you five times. I want you to count them out loud, if you close your legs or fail to count we restart, understood?” You hum in approval “uh uh, use your words, tell me you understand.”

You groan and throw your head back, and in the process break your eye contact with him. “Y/n” his voice is dangerous, deep and laced with warning. “Look at me and you tell me you understand” Your head rolls to the side, and your eyes meet with his again, his pupils blown out with lust.

It's honestly a bit intimidating the way he looks at you when he's in this state. In this moment he was a predator, and you were more than willing to be his prey. He then moves his dominant hand to hover over your core, so close that you can feel the heat radiating from his palm.

“I understand,” you sigh, now accepting your fate. “good,” he nearly growls. His hand pulls back a little and with a flick of the wrists, his fingers sharply land on your cunt, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

"One," you mumble as you attempt to contain the moans that are bubbling up in your throat. If Chan knew how much you enjoyed it, he would devise a new punishment, which is the last thing you wanted.

Once more, his hand pulls back before coming down and landing on the same spot where it had previously smacked you. This time, the strike is more painful than the last one, a whimper now slipping past your pretty lips. “Number,” Chan demands. “t-two,” and the process repeats. “three,” and again. “fo-four”

Each time the pain grows more and more, your body starts to tremble, your legs dare to close, and your tears are about to spill over. Just one more, and it will be over.

Chan continues to watch you, the glint in his eyes dark and piercing. Your eyes then shut causing the tears to fall down your heated cheeks. “Look at me” Chan corrects you. His face softens when your eyes meet his, it's almost a sympathetic look, a look that's filled with nothing but love. “Ready?” He questions and you nod a little “ready” you agree, your voice quivering slightly.

His hand pulls back further than all the times before, and in an instant it comes hurling down. Fear ensues, your legs about to close in order to protect your sensitive, swelling cunt. But before you can even manage to do so, his hand meets your heat, the sound of the impact ringing through the bedroom and you let out a cry.

“The number baby,” his voice is soft as he speaks to you now. “Five” Your body relaxes a little now knowing that the punishment is over. Chan's lips replace his hand, pressing soft kisses around your clit causing waves of both pain and pleasure to wash over your body.

“What do you say princess?” He hums against you between kisses and small licks. He waits for you to collect your thoughts before giving your thigh a small squeeze and sliding one of his hands up to your hand resting on your tummy, threading his fingers with yours.

You’re quiet as you think, your brain running too slow to come up with a coherent sentence. “I’m sorry for being a brat,” you mumble. “Good girl”

Chan gets up from between your legs, coming up to meet you face to face “You okay?” He whispers as his hand cups your cheek, his thumb wiping away the stray tears rolling down your face, and you hum in agreement.

Before laying down next to you, he gives you a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. His hands then grab hold of your waist and draw you to his chest, his heartbeat and the constant rise and fall of his chest calming you a little. “Do you want me to get you water or start a bath?”

“uh uh, not yet.” Chan nods in acknowledgement and the tips of of his fingers begin lightly trailing up and down your back “We can stay like this as long as you’d like beautiful”

@atinystaywerewolf @angelichanniez

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all-too-unwell-13 · 4 months

Text

the seven (+ nico and reyna) if they were children if minor gods/goddesses

percy - i'm not gonna lie, it was so hard to find a minor god for percy. the best one i found is basically just another god the sea: nereus. he was a son of primordial gods; gaea (sorry for that, percy, omg 😭) and pontus, primordial god of the ocean. anyway, nereus was also a god of wisdom, prophetic visions (so it would kind of make sense for percy to be a 'prophecy child' if his dad was a prophecy god ig), and change. also! nereus valued loyalty (and, if we excuse demigod children lmao, he was loyal to his wife), and loyalty is percy's fatal flaw.

annabeth - themis, the greek goddess of justice, order, and overall fairness (not unlike nemesis), which are all values that i think annabeth holds close to her. themis is also depicted to be extremely wise (and sometimes she's also called a goddess of wisdom), another trait that annabeth believes in.

jason - aiolos, roman god of the wind (the greek version is aeolus). he's also known as the 'keeper of the four winds,' meaning he also controlled storm winds, so jason would likely have similar powers to children of jupiter. also, his name means 'quick-moving.' jason already has powers relating to storms and winds (those are his main powers, other than lightning), and being a son of aiolos would likely just increase his power over wind.

leo - i honestly couldn't find any minor gods that suit leo, but i think pallas, greek god of warcraft/handcrafts (and in some cases - 'useful arts,' which i'm taking to mean machines/mechanics, etc.). pallas is often also related to athena, goddess of wisdom, but i believe he's depicted as more of a 'quick-thinker,' which suits leo a lot.

piper - psyche, greek goddess of the soul; she's described, in mythology, as a mortal-turned-goddess whose beauty rivalled aphrodite's. the goddess represents passions, as well as misfortunes. this means piper could likely still have charmspeak because of psyche's close relation/similarity to aphrodite.

hazel - i feel like this one's sort of obvious; hecate. not only is she goddess of the mist and magic, but also ghosts, so hazel would have similar powers to a child of hades/pluto. hazel is already shown to have powers over the mist, and hecate is often associated with gemstones/crystals, which hazel can also already control.

frank - i really couldn't find many gods for frank, but i think honos, the greek god of honour, works well. he also represents glory, and in some cases, bravery. these are all some of frank's best qualities - ones that he himself actually values a lot too. additionally, honos symbolises victory and achievement, which are more qualities that frank would need for his role as praetor, etc.

nico - ok. so. the best one i could find was erebus; primordial god of shadows and darkness. he's also the god of a particularly dark part of the underworld, so it's likely he'd also have control over ghosts and bones (like nico does). this probably also means children of erebus could shadow-travel. and, although he isn't always perceived as powerful, erebus is. one interesting thing about erebus - even though he is not explicitly evil, his name is often used interchangeably with tartarus (which, if we're talking about experiences with tartarus: this could be an added factor as to why nico went to tartarus so confidently. if he didn't know enough about his father, he might've assumed he could be okay through tartarus.)

reyna - fides, roman goddess of loyalty and trust. fides is said to represent everything 'required for honour and credibility.' throughout the heroes of olympus, it's clear that honour and trust are two things reyna values deeply. it's also said that fides embodies everything needed for soldiers in rome, which, as praetor (for a long time), reyna is to be considered a soldier of new rome. additionally, loyalty and faithfulness are two qualities valued by artemis and her huntresses.

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f1letters · 2 years

Text

sweet nothing | sv5

"all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing"

summary: after years of battling infertility, seb was still by her side. he didn't need anything else but her... but maybe their lives were about to get a little more crowded

warning: a little bit sad at times but overall fluff, mentions of endometriosis, infertility, inability to conceive, fertility treatments and pregnancy, mentions of a person attacking the reader for not continuing with treatments to have children, mentions of anxiety and insecurity

pairing: sebastian vettel x reader

word count: 3.0k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past. I would also like to point out that I am not a doctor nor do I have professional knowledge on the subject, having relied on personal experience and the additional research I did on the subject. I tried my best not to be too focused on the medicinal terms so I wouldn't give the wrong information.

german words used: liebling = darling; engel = angel; schatz = sweetheart

no better week to post this story than the week we say goodbye to Seb. nobody talk to me during race weekend, because I'll be busy crying my heart out. 😭 it's so sad to see Seb leave but above all, I hope he is the happiest person in the world with his family and that he knows that he is forever a legend of this sport. danke Seb, you will forever be my number 1 💘

masterlist

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

"You are 18 weeks pregnant, Mrs Vettel." The obstetrician told her.

"That's not possible," Y/N replied, not being able to believe the words she was hearing. The only sound she could hear at that moment was her own heart pounding loudly in her ears like heavy rain hitting the window glass during a storm. "Please check again. There must be an error in the ultrasound machine, it has to be."

The doctor turned the screen so the woman could see the image displayed. Y/N found herself completely paralyzed by the shock it caused her. It can't be, she still didn't believe it.

But it is true, she understood that when she read her information at the top of the monitor. It was there: 'Y/N Vettel', along with her age, her gender and the correct date of that miraculous day.

"Are you sure you didn't notice any symptoms?" The professional asked, curious. "Your pregnancy is already a little over four months. You've certainly felt something, or noticed something different in your body."

The truth is that she had noticed a thousand differences in herself over the last few years, but, convinced by the doctors that she was not capable of having a baby and already resigned that it was not a part of her plans, she chose to ignore them until she had no choice but to come to the doctor to confirm.

It all started when her period missed its usual date, something she quickly attributed to the stress, the work, and the constant travels she had to make to support her husband around the world.

This was followed by the sudden tiredness and fatigue she felt and her abrupt mood swings (immediately noticed by Sebastian, who was the one suffering the most because of them). But once again, work and travel became the explanations constantly given.

When she was in Japan about two months prior, that's when nausea started but, I mean, it was Japan and the woman didn't deprive herself at all from eating and enjoying all the exotic foods of that magical country, which logically had caused some sort of food poisoning, she thought.

All of these alterations had plausible answers, and none of them sounded out of the ordinary until Y/N started noticing a small bump in her stomach, though still nothing major.

At first, she wondered if it was due to her sloppiness in her exercise routine. But when she found herself looking at her reflection in the mirror and starting to create expectations about a hypothetical baby, the driver's wife decided that the best thing would be to step back from dreamland and go to the doctor.

Not because she expected to hear that her biggest dream had finally come true, but rather to keep her from imagining a life that would never be possible, or so she thought.

When looking at her baby for the first time, tears began to form in her eyes. He was so small, tiny as a firefly, but so real. His little feet, his delicate hands, his loving face. She couldn't believe that love of such a dimension could instantly consume her, warm her soul, and fill her with hope and dreams long forgotten.

"It's a boy, isn't it?" she asked, sure the answer would be yes. Inexplicably perhaps, as soon as she looked at him, all she could see was Sebastian.

Oh my god, how could I, she panicked. Y/N was so confident that this trip to the doctor would be nothing and now all she could think about was how she had taken away her husband's experience of being able to find out about the pregnancy on her side.

"Yes, it's a little boy." The obstetrics confirmed after a few minutes, smiling at the pregnant woman lying on the bed. "How did you know?"

"I don't know, it was just a feeling." Y/N replied. "And... And is everything alright with him?"

"Don't worry, my dear." The doctor placed her hand over the other woman's. "He is perfect and seems to be completely out of harm's way. Now you just have to take care of yourselves and enjoy the process."

They said the end is comin'

Everyone’s up to somethin'

I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shovin'

You're in the kitchen hummin'

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothin'

After tucking two copies of the ultrasound carefully into the bottom of her suitcase, the woman left the clinic on a mission: running home to her lover's sweet nothings.

A few meters ahead, she managed to signal for a taxi to stop and thus began her journey home. The happiness she felt radiated everywhere as she leaned the top of her head against the car window and recalled all the stormy moments that had brought her here, to the happiest day of her life.

"Seb, I can't see. You do it." The young woman told her husband, covering her eyes, afraid to know the test result in front of them.

"Okay, liebling. Relax." He said, placing his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to control his wife's stress. "Regardless of the outcome, we'll deal with it, together." He placed a soft kiss on the top of her hair.

They had been trying to have a baby for a few months now, without success, and she especially was starting to feel the pressure. Seb, the more peaceful and patient of the two, did what he could to reassure her that they would be okay, come what may, but Y/N was starting to think something was wrong with her.

The driver took the white stick and turned it over, immediately noticing the two pink stripes. "Engel..." His voice whispered, barely audible. "You- We- We are having a baby."

In disbelief, she took his hand to confirm it with her own eyes. "Oh my god, we made it. We're having a baby." The two embraced and the world around them disappeared as the newlyweds wept with happiness.

The couple immediately called their parents and close family, excited to share the good news with everyone. Everyone knew how much this child was wanted and how much they tried to make it a reality.

They were so happy for a few days.

Two days later, the two went to the clinic to confirm that all was well with their future son or daughter. The process was very normal at first. They filled out the proper paperwork and answered the typical necessary questions. She then lay in bed while the doctor put the gel on her stomach and pressed the ultrasound probe into her belly, expecting to see their baby on the monitor.

They were fairly calm, until the obstetrician left the room without warning, returning minutes later with an older man, clearly a more experienced doctor, to help with the consultation.

Y/N and Seb looked at each other, both fearing the worst. But neither of them expected the words the doctor said to them as they all sat around his secretary.

"I'm afraid the positive test Mrs Vettel took a few days ago was a false positive." The man revealed.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

Ooh, ooh

On her way home, the anticipation of telling her husband about their miracle grew as Y/N approached her destination.

As she got out of the taxi after paying the nice gentleman who drove her, the woman stopped to look around the neighbourhood. God, how perfect it was to raise a child there, she thought, as soon as her eyes fell on the image of a father and his little son playing football.

She could picture Seb and their baby boy a few years from then right there, kicking the ball around, and that would more than compensate for all the hardships they'd been through.

Since the day she was confronted with her endometriosis and for the next three years, Sebastian and his wife spent days on end with doctors and specialists, testing natural methods and different medications, and reading books on the subject.

A thousand different diagnoses, a thousand treatment options, and a thousand advice guides from people who had gone through the same thing.

All this led to discouragement and exhaustion for both of them.

"Sebastian, I don't think this will work..." She admitted, afraid of upsetting him. "We've tried everything."

"Liebling..." The driver called out to her, pain notable in his voice. "If it doesn't work out, we can always build our family in another way. We have fostering, surrogacy, adoption..."

"I'm tired of this, Seb." She confessed, for the first time, exhausted from the whole process and with tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I'm tired of trying."

'Cause they said the end is comin'

Everyone's up to somethin’

I find myself runnin’ home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shovin’

You're in the kitchen hummin'

All that you ever wanted from me was nothin'

Y/N put her key in the lock and turned it, opening the door to the cosy blue house where they lived.

As soon as she entered her home, the young woman immediately smelled the magnificent scent of her favourite dish in the air, following it to the kitchen.

And there he was.

In the kitchen humming, swaying his hips gently to the music that played softly beside him as he prepared dinner.

She couldn't pass up that moment to stop and appreciate the love of her life.

Although he was a star of the Formula 1 world, had four world championships under his belt and was an idol to thousands of people around the world, Sebastian was his best version like this: at home, with his small acts of love, so simple and humble.

Without realizing it, Y/N let out a sob, just as she started to cry. She wept with joy, with gratitude, with love. He was without a doubt her best friend and she couldn't have chosen anyone better to be by her side than the German.

"Engel, what's the matter?" Seb asked, turning quickly to her and approaching her, as soon as he heard her cry. "What happened? Is something wrong?"

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it

"What do you mean you're going to stop treatments?" Y/N's mother questioned, with a scorned face. "You should be doing more, not giving up, for God's sake."

In fact, the relationship between Y/N and her mother had never been easy or healthy, but still, it hurt her to hear such judgment coming from someone who was supposed to love and support her unconditionally.

"Mum, that was our decision. It doesn't matter what you think is right or what you think is best." Y/N declared, trying to keep herself calm.

"That's what you say now." The older lady spoke up, her muscles tense with anger and not caring in the least about her daughter's feelings. "Not only are you depriving me of having grandchildren, but you are also preventing your own husband from having his own children. By choice. It won't take long to find someone else to give them to him. You'll see."

It won't take long to find someone else to give them to him.

You'll see.

Those terrible words were chanting in the poor girl's head, like a scratched record stuck in the same song.

It was safe to say that that conversation between mother and daughter had more consequences than expected from a simple breakfast. Y/N's mood was ruined for the rest of her day.

After returning home to her husband, the woman occasionally excused herself to the bathroom during the day in an attempt to hide the tears that threatened to fall.

However, Seb knew her better than the back of his hand. As soon as he looked at her walking through the door, he knew something was wrong, but he tried to give her space so she felt comfortable opening up to him about what was going on.

When the driver realized that he had no other option but to intervene, he entered the bathroom without warning, coming face to face with the image of his wife sitting on the toilet, crying as she hid in between her hands.

"Schatz, please talk to me." Seb pleaded, running his hand carefully over her hair as he lowered himself to her level.

"You're going to leave me, that's what's wrong." She confessed, letting her voice rise in volume. "All because I'm a complete failure as a woman and as a wife. I've tried, I've tried everything. But I can't give you the family you want, or the children you deserve."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, more confused than ever by his wife's sudden insecurity.

"You deserve so much better than me, Seb..." Y/N looked right into his eyes, trying to apologize for something she had no control over. "To you I can admit that I'm just too soft for all this. I can't live with the guilt of ruining your dreams anymore."

"Liebling, stop. Look at me." He took her hands and placed them on top of his own cheeks, making her maintain eye contact between them. "You are more than enough. I would give up everything for you. I don't need children, championships, money or fame." He continued, leaning his head against her thighs.

"All that I ever wanted from you was nothing. You are literally the only thing I need in this world to be happy."

They said the end is comin'

Everyone's up to somethin'

I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shovin'

You're in the kitchen hummin'

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothin'

Y/N grabbed the collar of the army green shirt her husband was wearing and pulled him to her, letting her lips cover his.

She poured all of her feelings into that kiss, quickly reciprocated with the same intensity by Seb as soon as he got over the shock of her unexpected movement.

Her tears continued to stream down her face, and although the German could taste them in his mouth, he knew that, no matter what was going on with Y/N, that demonstration of love between them was exactly what she needed at that time.

As soon as their now swollen lips parted ways, Sebastian broke the silence. "As much as I love every time you kiss me like that, I'm getting worried, engel. Did something happen? Where were you?"

"Oh sweetheart, something happened, yes, and you'll never believe what I have to tell you." Her smile appeared on her face again, so bright and cheerful, that her partner felt the corners of his mouth mirror the movement of her lips.

They said the end is comin'

Everyone's up to somethin'

I find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shovin'

You're in the kitchen hummin'

"I'm honestly so lost, schatz." The man laughed, shaking his head. "But I can assume by your face that it's a good thing, I think?"

She laughed along with him, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek as she turned to her purse. Her hand reached for the rectangular image hidden at the bottom of the bag.

Seb held out his hand, expecting her to put the mysterious object on top of it.

His eyes were deceiving him. It can't be, his thoughts racing.

"Are- Are you- Is this yours?" He stuttered nervously.

Y/N nodded her head and wrapped the blond man around the waist. "We're going to have a baby, my love. It finally happened."

"But you- We- The treatments stopped-" He couldn't even form a complete sentence, which made his partner giggle like a little kid.

"Looks like he was just waiting for the right moment to show up." She leaned her cheek against her best friend's chest as he placed his chin on the top of her head.

"He? Is it a boy?" His voice faltered for a moment, unable to contain his emotion.

"Oops, surprise?" He felt her chest rise and fall against his as Y/N chuckled softly.

"I couldn't be happier, liebling." Sebastian looked at her, full on crying, with his hands over his wife's cheeks. "Just having you by my side makes me the happiest man in the world."

"I can't wait to meet our baby. I bet he's going to be your twin." She laughed, returning to her soulmate's warm embrace. "Thank you, Seb."

"Thanks for what?"

"Thank you for wanting nothing from me except for me."

"I love you more than anything, you and our little one." He placed his hand on her stomach for the first time, feeling the small bump, much to his shock.

"And I love you, Vettel." She replied, feeling a single tear run down her face.

"Michael won't believe me when I tell him this."

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothin'

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thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 3 months

Note

Hie hie hie!

I had a just take it req (if you are taking any now)

I wanted a real real sweeet the fluffiest fluff of how jk interacts with baby while still in the tummy 😭.

Like talking to the baby bump.

It would mean alot to me!

Thankyouu😭🩷

Haha hieee

Yeah I'm always taking requests for all of my stories! It just depends on how long it takes me to get back to them lol 😅

Okay okay lemme see what I can do 🤭

~~~~

"Come on Honey, the baby doesn't come for another two months. I'm sure we'll finish up the nursery with plenty of time to spare" Jungkook says while he watches me pace back and forth, trying to figure out where I want everything and measuring all around to make sure that it'll fit.

"I know but I really want to get this done now so I won't have to worry about it anymore" I say, looking at all the boxes that we've had in here for the past few months.

"Can you at least take a break? Watching you run around this room all day is making me tired so I could only imagine how exhausted you are" he says, his eyes going wide when he see me try to pick up something a little heavier than I should be carrying and rushes to grab it.

"Everything would be finished sooner if you helped me out" I mumble and he rolls his eyes, placing the box where I wordlessly ask him to. "I've asked you if you wanted my help about four times today and you told me if I asked you again you would make me sleep on the couch for the next three day" he says, crossing his arms and cocking a brow at me.

I quite any comebacks I might've had and laugh awkwardly, "Right I uh, I forgot about that" I say sheepishly scratching the top of my head.

He walks over to me and cradles my face in his hands, placing a chased kiss on my lips, making me melt into him. "You wanna take a nap with me?" he whispers against my lips and I smile, nodding my head and holding out my hand so he can lead me to our room.

He helps me down since it's gotten harder and harder for me to do simple movements that I used to take for granted but he makes sure to take care of everything I need even when it comes to little things like this.

"Thank you Honey" I say and he leans down to give me a kiss before rounding the bed to get on his side.

Once he's laid down next to me I expect him to turn this little nap he offered into something else but he decides to lay his head on my chest and place a hand on my belly.

"What are you doing?" I giggle and he shushes me playfully. "Can't you see I'm trying to have a meeting with our baby?" he says and I don't take offense since I love it when he does this so I just run my fingers through his hair while he does as he pleases.

"You know Mommy has been working day and night to get your nursery ready right? That's why your cozy little place in there has been moving all over the place today" I laugh at his cute little daily update with them, it's always my favorite part of the day.

"I told her to take it easy but she won't listen to me" he whispers and I wack him lightly on the shoulder and he flinches as if I had hurt him.

"See, you feel that? I try to tell her to rest and take care of herself and this is the thanks I get? I think you've been giving Mommy too many hormones lately" he teases and I roll my eyes but go back to playing with his hair.

"Mommy keeps telling me that she thinks you're a boy but I think you're a girl. We wanted them to tell us at first but we thought it would be even more special if we found out when you got here" he says and I get even more excited, remembering our little promise to each other.

"Between you and me..." he says, lowering his voice a bit and I hold my breath so I can hear this next part. "I secretly hope you're a boy because I have a bet going with your aunt but don't tell Mommy" he whispers right against my tummy as if that would muffle his words enough.

"You guys made a bet?" I scold him, "I told you not to tell her!" he whispers, playfully scolding the baby in turn as if he wasn't the one that blew his own cover. "Well I wanted to show solidarity with you so I made a bet that we were having a boy but your sister is convinced we're having a girl".

"That logic doesn't even make sense" I say and he laughs as if it was completely logical. "Well this way I'll win either way" he says as if that explains everything, turning his head to now face me, practically smothering himself in my boobs since I'm carrying so high still but he's not complaining.

When he sees that my face is still scrunched up in confusion he sighs and explains himself. "Well if it's a girl then I'll have to pay your sister but I'll still be right since I really think she's gonna be a girl. But then on the other hand if it's a boy then I win the bet and get to support you and your intuition" he says as if his logic wasn't ridiculous.

"Whatever you say Daddy" I tease, leaving him with his face all scrunched up, trying to decide on what he's gonna do next.

"Nope" he says and turns his head back towards my bump. "What do you mean 'Nope'?" I ask, surprised that he's not taking the bait. "I've gotta get used to you calling me 'Daddy' in front of the baby now so I'm practicing self control" he says and I scoff in disbelief.

"I got her back for hitting me" he whispers back to the baby and I huff before trying to sit up. He moves faster than me and switches to hovering over me, keeping me there in protest. "Why are you leaving me?" he asks, clearly offended that I would even think about getting out of bed.

"You promised me a nap" I say and he laughs, "You can nap". "Not like this" I say, referring to not only what he was doing but also the position I was in. "Oh...right" he says and sits back, his head drooping.

"Plus I thought you meant...something else" I say and he chuckles before looking back up at me. "Oh so you wanted a spicy nap huh?" he says, teasing me with the ridiculous term he's coined.

"Why do you always have to call it that?" I whine, placing my hands over my face so I can hide my embarrassment. "Because I love watching the way you react to it" he says while hovering over me again, kissing my neck making me let out a shuddering breath but he stops as quickly as he starts and I scowl at him.

"What are you doing? I ask and he looks down at me with a teasing smile. "Didn't you say you wanted to get the nursery done today?" he points out and I huff, knowing that I should probably get back to that.

"We'll have more spicy time before bed" he reassures me and gets up so he can start helping me up as well. "You're no fun" I slouch and he caresses my face again, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"You gonna let me help you now?" he questions and I nod, dropping my resolve in wanting to accomplish it on my own.

"Come on, the sooner we finish it the sooner we can finish what we started" he says as he watches me walk out, checking me out before slapping my ass, making me yelp.

"What was that for?" I whine and he laughs and rubs the area as a fake excuse to comfort me when all he wants is to grab my ass. "That was for teasing me earlier" he smirks and I roll my eyes at him, "Come on let's just go" I say and I let him walk into the nursery first, slapping his ass as he does.

"Did you just...?" he says in disbelief and I smirk back getting exactly the reaction I wanted. "Yeah, so what? What are you gonna do about it?" I taunt and he chuckles walking up to me and places a hand on my belly.

"Just wait until we get this baby out of you Bunny" he taunts and my teasing nature dissipates, knowing exactly what he means.

He smiles at me, satisfied with my reaction and turns back to the nursery to assess what needs to be done while I'm left standing in the doorway, visions of what he might do to me flooding my mind and he call out to me to break me out of it.

"You gonna help me?" he asks and I clear my throat and shake my head. "On second thought I might actually need that nap you mentioned earlier" I say and he laughs.

"Okay Bun well go lay down and wait for me while I finish this up" he says and when I try to protest he cuts me off. "Bed" he finishes leaving me sighing and doing as he says but by the time he's finished with the project he took on in the nursery I'm already fast asleep.

He smiles and gets in bed, cuddling up next to me and leans down to quickly say a little hello to the baby and to tell them to let Mommy rest for a bit and then settles in behind me, spooning me and holding me close.

These are the moments I live for. Just our little family of three, cuddled up and in perfect harmony. "I love you" he whispers in my ear before he settles down for our very well deserved nap.

"Love you" I mumble having stirred awake a bit. He chuckles and places a kiss on my shoulder before slowing his breath in sync with mine and soon we're both fast asleep, dreaming about our little one.

~~~~

I hope that was fluffy enough for you hehe please let me know what you think! 💜

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #just take it ask #just take it drabble #just take it #jti

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agendabymooner · 10 months

Text

the little schuminis || ms47 fic

dad!mick schumacher x mom!ofc

EXTENSION TO SHE’S EVERYTHING… AND HE’S JUST MICK! (SMAU) + MICK, MULTIPLIED (SNAPSHOT)

Summary: Barbie Schumacher was the best mother there is to Mick’s little carbon copies. OR four times when Mick showed his devotion for his kids, and the one time his devotion paid off.

Content warning: Made this in about an hour— did not proofread this but I love it bc F1 driver with kids, All around fluff, Mick issa good dad, Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel being wingmen to their kids (Barbie and Mick), Michael’s clowning his own son, many Schumacher kids

Note: @avaleineandafryingpan I know this isn’t much but I hope you love this request babygorl 😭😭🫶 my heart beats for you fr. Enjoy some dad!Mick content xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

i. the time with minna schumacher’s late night wake up call

Shrill cries of a newborn love was equal to the agony that Barbie Schumacher — formerly Blanco Vettel — felt as she groaned quietly. 3 AM never felt this awful until her firstborn child reached her teething stage, and all Barbie wanted to do was cry like her daughter was doing in her nursery now.

Perhaps it wasn’t ideal to have a baby at the age of 27. Many people told her that her spouse wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment— that he was still on the peak of his career as a formula one driver.

And Mick was in the midst of a season when Minna Elisa Schumacher was born. Being away from her for far TOO long was something he didn’t want, but he was forced to leave as soon as Minna reached her 47th hour of her life. Mick never hated something this much until his career made him choose.

Barbie grumbled as she reached for her nightgown and slipped it on, only for a large hand to pull her back to the mattress as the German man murmured, “I’ll get her, liebling.”

“Mick…” Barbie hadn’t really wanted to make him get up, seeing as he just arrived four hours ago after his triple header.

“‘s okay, I’ll get Minna,” he muttered, reaching out to kiss his wife’s forehead. “Just go get settled down and you can feed her here.”

The blond man had immediately found Minna crying in her crib as he cradled her, heading downstairs to grab some iced teether to help soothe her gums. “Shh,” he shushed her gently, the baby’s cry subsiding immediately as she sucked on the teether. “You hungry, liebe? Or ‘s it just your gums?”

“We have to stop waking your mom up at such an early time, Minnie baby,” he sighed, rocking her in his arms as they made their way back up to the bedroom. “She’s been awake all the time— she works too hard for us.”

“She’s amazing, no?” Mick asked his daughter as if she could understand every single word he was saying.

“Ma…” Minna mumbled regardless, clinging to his arms as Mick grinned tiredly.

“Yeah, I know,” Mick nodded. “She’s working too hard, Minna. I’m glad she’s here to see you grow like this, liebe.”

“Talking to Minna again, Schums?” A soft voice reached his ears as Mick looked back at his wife, who had her back against the headboard as she smiled tiredly and extended her arms.

“Of course, Barbie,” Mick chuckled. “She’s got to learn her words, one of these days.”

“No need to lecture her though,” Barbie told him. But it wasn’t anything that she didn’t appreciate; she always liked it when Mick talked to their child like Minna understood everything. He had been doing this since Barbie fell pregnant with the girl— he’d often crouch down or lay next to her bulging stomach to speak to the growing baby inside of her.

It showed Barbie that Mick was a committed father. It showed that regardless of his situation as a busy driver, he always saw his family as his number one priority. Perhaps that was why Barbie loved Mick so much.

ii. the time with gisela schumacher’s first ballet show

Gisela Belle Schumacher’s first little ballerina performance was happening in the program facility and everyone made sure to show up.

By everyone, I mean Barbie’s family, the Vettels, and Gisela’s (or Gigi) aunt Gina, Pippa Michael and Nina Corinna. The two year old was excited to show everyone what she practiced with Madame Pinault throughout her three months of being at the class.

She was the tiniest girl out of the group, with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair making her stand out in comparison to her peers’ darker tones of hair. The Schumachers and Vettels knew which one to look out for while they waited at the auditorium.

Barbie peered down at her phone and sighed quietly. Mick wasn’t here yet. Stupid flight of his.

At Gigi’s age, she couldn’t easily grasp the concept of people not being able to make it to certain events at the right time. All she knew was that she was going to show her Dada how she could balance on her tiptoes without a problem.

And of course, Mick couldn’t find himself to break her heart like that. And so, after the Brazilian GP, he took the fastest flight back to Lausanne.

And there he was, rushing inside the auditorium with the biggest bouquet for the littlest girl.

Minna’s announcement led the families to look at him as Mick kissed Barbie’s lips and Minna’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Mick apologized, “the baggage claim took longer than expected.”

“She hasn’t gone out yet,” Barbie laughed quietly, mindlessly caressing Minna’s blonde hair as she continued to speak, “glad to see you back from the race in one piece, though. With the biggest flowers too.”

Later after the performance, Gigi ran around the Schumacher home with the bouquet bragging about the flowers her Dada had given her. Barbie laughed at the sight of the girl— she was too adorable.

Mick laughed along, as he knew that he’d be more than happy to come carrying the biggest flowers for his girl— even after the longest double header he’s had. After all, nothing can stop him from being the best father to his children.

iii. the time with mika schumacher’s birthday party

“Who decided that setting up a pet display should be this fuc—“

“Mick, watch your words.”

“Sorry, Dad.”

“Stop going crazy,” Michael said with a frown, throwing the small giraffe plushie at the direction of his son, to which Mick reacted with an ‘Ow!’ after being hit in the face. “This isn’t the first birthday party you’ve handled.”

“Well this is the first one where ‘pet adoptions’ are a thing,” Mick gestured at the safari animal plushies at hand. “I don’t know what came up to Gina thinking it’s easy to find bulk plushies, but this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done— and I have three kids, Dad!”

“Because you can’t control yourself,” Michael mumbled, making Mick glare at him. Michael shrugged, “Am I incorrect?”

Mick couldn’t even find himself to argue with his dad. Six years into the marriage, and he and Barbie already had three kids under seven.

“I’m just so used to the girls wanting princesses and all of that,” Mick pouted lightly.

Michael sighed, “Well, now you have Mika— think of him as you. What did you like when you’re a kid? Put yourself in his shoes. Don’t tell me you’re having an existential crisis three kids into marriage? I’m actually gonna be disappointed if you didn’t think that before you had the kids— you’ve been a driver for years!”

“How can you find a time to joke about it,” Mick sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t even know why I’m here being an ass about my kid’s birthday party.”

“Because,” Michael told him with a purse of his lips, “you’ve never had a son before— that’s why you’re stressing out about messing up.”

“I struggled with you for a good while,” Michael shrugged nonchalantly, “Gina was into princesses and pink ponies. You were a boy— I didn’t know what baby boys liked. But I was a racer, that’s why I didn’t have any questions— I still hesitated though because you might like something else and I have to be aware of it.”

“From what I can tell, you’re doing an alright job so far,” Michael smiled at Mick, patting him on the shoulder. “Miki’s been a happy child. That’s what matters, no?”

“So pick up your sad face and put those plushies up,” Michael said.

A delighted scream came from inside the house as the year old boy escaped from Kimi Vettel’s chasing, giggling as Mika Sebastian Schumacher ran as much as his little legs could handle.

Eventually he found himself in the arms of Mick as Mika hid from his Uncle Kimi.

“Da!” Mika screamed delightfully, kicking his legs when Kimi Vettel began tickling the boy.

Mick and Michael exchanged grins.

Yeah, Mick would continue to put these plushies up if it meant that he’s making his son happy.

iv. the time with michael ‘mikey’ schumacher’s introduction to the world

Michael Senna, or Mikey, Schumacher was born sixteen hours ago, his tiny body was proof that he was so much like his mother. Yet despite the smallness of his, his facial features and expressions of contentment showed that he was his father’s son.

Another Mick Schumacher had been born into the world, and Barbie and Mick (alongside their family in Switzerland) welcomed him with open arms.

And no one was more than excited than the newborn’s namesake, his Pippa Michael, and Sebastian Vettel when meeting the little boy. In fact, they raced through the hospital as soon as they heard that Barbie, Sebastian’s adoptive daughter, had given birth to Mick’s second son.

Michael was more than happy to meet the boy— just as he was excited to meet his other grandchildren— but to meet little Mikey Schumacher was a moment to remember for everyone. Because that was also the time when Mick announced that…

“I’m retiring,” both Seb and Michael looked at the man with surprised expressions as if they wondered if they heard him right.

Mick explained, “I feel like I’ve lost a lot of time with the kids because I’ve been racing. The kids obviously don’t know how much time I’ve lost because they’re young but… I do. Barbie does.

“It took me a good while to understand what Mika loved— it took me a while to learn how to keep Gigi from having flyaways in her hair during her ballet classes— or how Minnie managed to handle her equestrian routine without Gina or Mom.

“I’ve lost a lot of time,” he said with a small chuckle and a shake of his head. Mick then gestured at Mikey, who remained peacefully sleeping in Michael’s arms as he said, “And with Mikey, I think I can’t afford to do that anymore. I’m okay with one championship only.”

Sebastian broke the silence after, “I’m proud of you Mick,” he smiled softly before reaching out to hug his in-law. “Look at how far Barbie and you’ve come.”

“Back then we had to goad him to ask Barbie on a date,” Michael chuckled quietly.

“It took us eight years,” Sebastian joked.

“Or nine,” Michael snorted.

“We’re still here,” Barbie mumbled in her sleep, “stop making jokes about it.”

“Still,” Michael said, “we’re very happy for you and Barbie, son.”

“This is where your life begins,” Sebastian nodded, “all you need to do is to tell everyone about your commitments and devotion for your children and wife.”

i. the time mick’s devotion paid off

Being a retired driver felt great. It wasn’t everyday Mick got to say that— and now he had every chance to.

Barbie’s family restaurant in Lausanne, one that she named SV et Blanco, had been built years ago— it was the Vettels and Schumachers’ pride. After she graduated from culinary school, Barbie worked as a chef in nearby restaurants before eventually deciding that she wanted a place where family could start their traditions through countless dishes and desserts to try.

Needless to say, it became a local and even international favourite. Many tourists in Switzerland would try to stop by Lausanne just to get a taste of Kimi Vettel’s favourite spinach and egg soufflé.

And now, SV et Blanco became a place for the Schumachers to spend their time during the Friday afternoons after Minna and Gigi’s classes. Mick would always pick up his daughters with Mika and ten month old Mikey on their car seats.

And after that, he’d come dropping by the restaurant. With Mika on his pram and Mikey on his back carrier, he led the kids into the restaurant as they found their mother making her rounds around the place.

“Mama!” Minna exclaimed before she and Gigi ran towards Barbie, hugging her around the legs.

“Oh, excuse me,” Barbie smiled at the guests before she crouched down to hug her girls. “Gigi, Minnie— hello! How’s school!”

“School is good, Mama!” Gigi grinned. “I got star for writing!”

“That right? Good job, Gigi,” Barbie grinned. “And you, Minnie? How is your school?”

“Okay! I want soufflé though!” The eldest Schumacher pouted lightly. “I wanna see Pippa and Nina!”

“Pippa and Nina! And Sebby— and Mamma Bel!” Mika shouted from his pram.

Barbie giggled lightly before looking up at her husband, “And…? How’s Dada, kids?”

“Dada’s not that busy,” Mick giggled, “hungry for some soufflé though— Minna’s right.”

“Well,” Barbie clapped her hands before standing up, “it’s a good thing it’s our everyday special.”

“Great,” Mick joked. “Otherwise we traveled to Lausanne for nothing.”

Barbie rolled her eyes playfully.

It was a good thing Mick’s devotion and commitment for his kids were paying off. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be the retired father that he is now— his kids wouldn’t be adoring their mother as much as Mick did back when they were teenagers and secretly in love.

#formula one dad #formula one fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 #f1 fic #formula one x oc #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher fanfic #ms47 #formula one fluff #f1 fluff #f1

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starsurface · 7 months

Note

Can I get CG Shang Tsung, Kitana, and Bi Han from Mk 1 with a baby regressor that's clingy. I couldn't decide what character I wanted😭

Yes!! I'll do individual post because this ones so that they're longer. <3

Also a small warning, I wrote him slightly possessive? Not like, fully possessive, but still.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Shang Tsung w/ Baby Regressor Hcs

🐍 You are his baby and you get whatever you want <3

🐍 He’s very glad that you're clingy to him, because he’s clingy to you

🐍 No one is allowed to watch you, why need a babysitter when you have him?

🐍 Now, don’t get him wrong, he’ll let you have playdates with others, but he knows who he works with

🐍 The most he’ll trust is Quan Chi (and will evil eye glare at him while he works in the other room)

🐍 Surprisingly, trusts Havik to babysit you the most (with supervision of course)

🐍 Mostly because Havik does really well with baby regressors

🐍 You. Will. Be. So. Spoiled!!!!

🐍 Man over here might have led himself to downfall, but he knows what it’s like to have a pretty bad life

🐍 So he makes sure to spoil you to the max!!

🐍 Sippy cup you like? He’ll buy two, just in case

🐍 You like bottles instead? Oh your so cute and tiny, we’ll take four, you never know what might happen after all

🐍 Yours (his) bed is covered in stuffies and he keeps buying you more :3

🐍 Enough is never enough for his darling

🐍 You aren’t allowed to go into his study room while small, he’ll make sure you stay away

🐍 After all, you’re too small to be bothered with what new projects he has going on, love <3

🐍 However, he’ll do magic for you!!

🐍 Shang Tsung is prideful, if you like his magic, he’ll of course use it

🐍 Anything to make his baby happy after all

🐍 Shapeshift into whatever you want, even funny animals to make you laugh

🐍 Make sparkles in the air with his firepowers (don’t get too close, ‘Hun)

🐍 ^ Would feel so shameful and guilty if you ever got hurt by his powers, even if it’s the tiniest burn or nick

🐍 Completely acts like your dying and kisses your boo-boo and gets the best band-aids he can find

🐍 Will probably get you ice cream and so many cuddles later, he never meant to hurt you

🐍 Favorite CG nicknames are Dada, Bubba, or just Tsung

🐍 But if you just babble and do grabby hands towards him, he’ll melt and pick you up

🐍 Shang Tsung isn’t super strong, but he’ll try his best to carry you on his hip (or find some sort of magic that’ll boat his strength for a small time)

🐍 Favorite little nicknames for you are Darling, ‘Hun, Sweetheart, Sweet Thing, Little Snake, Hatchling, Baby Girl/Boy, Dada’s Favorite

🐍 Ugh, if you let him spoon-feed you, he’ll melt on spot 🥺 (he just wants to baby and love you)

🐍 Cheek pinches and you can’t tell him otherwise >:3 (well, you can, it’s your choice after all)

🐍 He’ll squish and pinch your cheeks, you’re just so adorable!!

🐍 You can’t do anything wrong in his eyes (except going into his study room while tiny)

🐍 (^ Going into that room is a massive no no, you will get in trouble)

🐍 But otherwise? You didn’t mean to knock over that vase, it was an accident, love

🐍 And like, most times it was an accident, you’re too tiny to really get into any trouble

🐍 Want extra candy after or before dinner? Of course you can!! What would you like?

🐍 Can rarely ever say no to you, use it to your advantage or not, he won’t mind either way

🐍 Never feel guilty for him spoiling you, he does it because he wants to, there’s nothing else behind it (surprisingly)

🐍 He does not enjoy getting upset at you, and actually handles things like hissy fits and tantrums really well

🐍 He’ll let you scream and fuss, and will gently hold you and give you gentle, sweet words

🐍 Although if you hit or do something ‘naughty’, he'll inform you that that’s not what we do when we’re upset

🐍 Finds tummy time funny because you kinda just lay on the floor (a playmat he got you) and play with toys

🐍 Like, he'll lay beside you and coe at you, but he just finds you so adorable and entertaining

🐍 Prefers for you not to chew on his hands (he just got his pretty nails done) but will get you the cutest paci or chewie

🐍 Would adore to bottle-feed you!!!

🐍 You are his precious darling, of course he wants to cradle you while you doze off into a peaceful slumber

🐍 He'll let you play with his hair, but absolutely no hair pulling

🐍 He'd love to style your hair though!!

🐍 Sitting on his lap, letting him brush and style it however you want

🐍 Or just brushing it while you eat your own fingers (or munchies, depends on the day)

🐍 If you get fussy at naptime, he'll sweetly convince you that it's good for you and you get to be all cozy and warm

🐍 Man is really good with his words, a trick he's learnt over the years

🐍 Will cuddle you as you sleep and Will. Not. Move.

🐍 What if he disturbs you? He couldn't do that, he'll just lay there and read a book, kissing your head every so often

🐍 I'm gonna be honest . . . he probably picks your toys up for you, you don't really have a lift a finger around him

🐍 Especially while being so small and tiny!!! There's no reason for you to do anything around him, your too little after all

🐍 Will wrap you up with your favorite blankie and call you a Cuddle Cocoon

🐍 And if you wiggle while you’re all snuggled up, a Wiggle Worm

🐍 Is very content with just cuddling all day, or just sitting on his lap while you watch TV

🐍 Whatever his baby wants, is what he wants :3 (unless it gets in the way of his work, although it usually comes second place compared to you, he’ll place it all on Quan Chi >:3)

🐍 If you use diapers he's very supportive and will make sure you feel comfy

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I hope you like them, they might not be the best, I'm a bit sick and woozy rn. :(

But I hope you enjoyed them!! :D (I can also redo them if you'd like) (And Kitana and Bi-Han coming soon)

#age regression #agere #sfw age regression #age regression headcanons #mortal kombat agere #sfw agere #mk agere #mk1 #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat 1 headcanons #mk1 shang tsung x reader #shang tsung x reader #mk shang tsung #mk1 shang tsung #shang tsung #cg shang tsung #caregiver shang tsung

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rainba · 5 months

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Hii I love love love ur yan ocs I wanna just kiss them and pat them on the head!!!! My little skrunklies!!! I have a few questions about them

What turns them on? Like if I do this we are doing it immediately even if we’re in a plane or sum 😭😭

How jealous are they on like a scale of 1-10?

How whore knee are they? How often do they masturbate or have fantasies?

What music do they like?

You don’t need to respond to this btw 😭😭 I just love ur ocs and your work! Tysm!

The scrunklies!!! :3c and also, TYSM!! Sorry I responded to this pretty late!

For kairos:

Honestly? His darling saying anything naughty will turn him on instantly– oh, and receiving kisses on his neck! Or honestly… If you lower your hand and start massaging his thighs, that’ll make him grow weak too. If you start doing any of these things, he’ll feel all hot and will beg you to keep going. (っ˘ω˘ς )

How jealous is he? Hmmm…. Probably somewhere around an 8. He gets jealous pretty easily… When jealous, he’ll usually start being extra clingy and emotional. ^^;;;;;;

How horny are they? Before Kairos could get with his darling, he… Definitely had a (lowkey) masturbation addiction. Like, he would touch himself about twice a day, all while thinking about his darling. And he fantasizes… A lot. Almost constantly. It’s hard for him to sleep at night because all of his thoughts are racing and all he can think about is you in so many different lewd scenarios. But when he finally starts dating his beloved, he’ll definitely stop masturbating so often… And the fantasies won’t be as rampant. (*￣▽￣)b

What music does he like? He definitely likes some darker stuff. He’d listen to stuff like gothic/doom metal, alternative metal, symphonic metal, etc. When asked what his favorite band is, he’d probably respond with Deftones or Type O Negative. ( ´ ꒳ ` )

For Luka:

When in public, Luka can keep himself composed for the most part… But as said before, saying really naughty things to him will turn him on. (=`ω´=) However, there is another secret thing that Luka never admits will get him extremely worked up. By worked up, I mean, ‘we need to fuck. Now. I don’t care that we’re not only on a plane, but the plane is also actively crashing as we speak.’ …And that’s if you lean in close to him while kissing his ears and stroking his tail.

Run your fingers through the soft pink fur as you massage around the base of his tail... Oh, and throw in some flirting too. He’ll be gripping your wrists and dragging you somewhere private. ^^;;;;;;;;

How jealous is Luka? Somewhere around a 6.5. He doesn’t get jealous nearly as often as Kairos does, but when he does get jealous, it’s pretty intense. (↼_↼)

How horny is Luka, and how often does he masturbate/fantasize? Luka doesn’t masturbate very often– he never really has. Probably would masturbate about the same amount as any other guy. >_< Although, the fantasies he has are another story.. Before Luka gets with his darling, he’ll end up fantasizing about them quite a bit. The fantasies mostly pop up when he has nothing to do, or right before he goes to bed. They never fail to get him all hot and bothered, but he's still able to function. ( ´ ꒳ ` )

However, he does get plagued by wet dreams a few times a week. ^^;;;; Wakes up with cum staining his thighs, blankets all over the floor and sweat running his face... Which always makes him embarrassed. ( ´ ▽ ` ;;)

When he does get with his darling, though, expect him to be fucking you once or twice a day. And when he’s in heat, expect it to be more like three or four times a day, if not more. (-_-;)・・・ It’s a bit… Overwhelming at times, to put it lightly. If you can’t handle him fucking you that much, he’ll at least ask that you give him a hand job or let him use your thighs or something. ^^;;; (And luckily for him, the wet dreams stop!)

What music does Luka like? He LOVES a lot of heavier music. While his ears might be very sensitive to how loud the music is, he gets over it pretty fast. Loves black metal, doom metal, industrial metal, etc. Luka is involved in his local alt. music scene and goes to see bands live every now and then. Luka even has a battle jacket.

(=^ ◡ ^=)

#ask #kairos posting #luka posting

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART FIVE)

one — two — three — four — five

notes: i apologize, this one kinda sucks because i work all day so i made this at work! <3

y/ndevils00

liked by ehaula, nicohischier, and 28,729 others

y/ndevils00 hello fellow devils hockey sufferers! today our dear boys in red (and white) played against the NY Islanders. they didn’t do good.

to start us off, i have a couple super sexy warmup pics of my uber sweet and very in need of a haircut boyfriend, rowdy! that girl behind him is so me every time i see him 🤩

to follow that, the first penalty of the game tonight was awarded to said boyfriend! oh how i love a bad boy 🤭 he sat behind the stanchion and later admitted it was to hide from my camera, but jokes on him, i got a pic anyways!

next slide, we have captain swiss with his tongue out. I LOVE THAT SLUT!

up next, we have haulaback girl with the ONLY devils goal of the night! (i told you we suffered) so happy for my uncle haula (we are not related in any form)

and lastly, we have my wonderful marino (and the diamonds), making the facial expression that sums up how i was feeling the entire night!

we inevitably lost, 5-1, to the island dwellers. better luck thursday boys!

tagged jackhughes, nicohischier, ehaula and john.marino97

ehaula thank you niece! (we are not related in any form)

y/ndevils00 you’re so welcome! i appreciate you keeping us from getting shutout!

john.marino97 why that picture? seriously WHY?

y/ndevils00 why NOT?

john.marino97 when i get a penalty, i get sprayed with water or smacked with a newspaper, but when hughesy gets a penalty, you make out with him for about half of intermission?

y/ndevils00 i support jack’s rights. but more importantly, i support jack’s wrongs.

jackhughes it’s true, she loves when i do bad things

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes once again, not putting your dishes in the dishwasher is not “bad” and i do not love it. it’s annoying.

jackhughes you said you loved my hair

y/ndevils00 i lied.

jackhughes wow, this betrayal runs deep. idk how i’ll ever recover from this stab in the back

y/ndevils00 i think you’ll be fine later 👀

trevorzegras gross

nicohischier did you just call me a slut?

y/ndevils00 yes. i can change it though; slut, whore, whatever you’d prefer to be called.

nicohischier is my name an option?

y/ndevils00 no, sorry, there’s been a unanimous vote to eliminate that option

nicohischier what?! who voted?

y/ndevils00 me.

user3 i love that at least half the pics are usually always jack 😭

user57 she feeds us so well 😩🫶

dawson1417 i didn’t make the post?!

y/ndevils00 you didn’t do anything of note. do better.

jamie.drysdale i don’t go here, but i look forward to these posts

y/ndevils00 aww jameson! you’re so sweet 🤭 come visit me soon!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras I GOT A Y/N NICKNAME BEFORE YOU! IN YOUR FACE Z!

jamie.drysdale and of course! i’ll try and make it out to jersey asap!

y/ndevils00 oh, trevor has a nickname!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 i do?! you’ve never called me it! what is it?!

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras what are you talking about? i call you it all the time, satan’s favorite child!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes is it too late for me to take back my advice about telling her about your feelings? she’s mean

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras why can’t you two just get along?

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras you love me, i bake you lemon cake in the summer! if jack were to break up with me, you’ll never have that again

trevorzegras @/jackhughes ya know what? on second thought, she can stay

#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nico hischier #john marino #trevor zegras #dawson mercer #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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froggibus · 2 years

Text

Stay A While - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff w a shot of angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: you’ve always been one to suffer in silence, shutting yourself in your apartment for the duration of your episodes. but Jason Todd doesn’t want to sit idly by and watch you suffer alone, even if it annoys you

CW: depressed! reader, mentions of depressive episodes, negative thoughts/self talk, Jason is overbearing, mentions of insomnia, reader struggles to eat, some violence (out on patrol), the rest of the family kinda sucks in this lmao

this is for the people who followed me expecting Batfam/DC content and didn’t unfollow when I didn’t post any for months 😭 I love y’all. also idk the idea of soft! Jason makes me so emotional. also I WOULD LOVE SOME DC OR BATFAM REQUESTS!!! if there’s anything you want me to write I will gladly do it 🫶🏼 (also let’s ignore the fact that this is like my 3rd angsty post in the past few days oops)

————

It was common knowledge around Wayne Manor that disappearing into your room (or apartment) for a few days meant something different for everyone. Usually, it wasn’t anything to worry about.

Sometimes it would be Tim finally sleeping when he’s pushed himself too far. Other times, it was Dick working a case and refusing to leave until he knew what to do. For Bruce, it usually meant he was injured and trying to hide it from everyone.

Jason was still finding these things out little by little, so when you suddenly disappeared into your apartment, he was worried.

“Honestly, it’s nothing to worry about,” Tim tried to ease his mind. “Y/n tends to retreat when things get bad.”

“And you guys are okay with that?”

Dick shrugged, adjusting the ice pack he had pressed to his forehead. “We tried the first time it happened. After a while, we realized that alone time is the only thing that really works. If y/n needs help, y/n will reach out.”

And the topic ended there. Or at least, it did for Dick and Tim. Jason couldn’t stop thinking about it though—did they really just let you suffer in your apartment all alone whenever you had an episode? The thought made his skin crawl.

He’s had a few bad episodes over the course of his life, and while he managed to deal with it alone, he didn’t think that you should have to.

Maybe that’s what led him to your apartment at four in the morning with a bag of takeout.

You open the door dressed in your pyjamas despite not having slept a wink. You're almost surprised to see Jason standing there with the paper bag. Didn’t everyone know to let you ride it out on your own? You thought they decided to stop bugging you ages ago.

Still, you don’t think it was fair to slam the door in his face, and instead welcome him inside. “What are you doing here, Jason?”

“Just thought I’d check on you,” he sets the bag on the counter. “Haven’t seen you in a while and wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You squint at him. Did he really think you were that dumb? You figured he would have asked Dick or Bruce right away if you suddenly fell off the face of the earth, and they would have told him about your situation. Jason and you had never been particularly close, either, so why was he here?

He raises his hands in defeat. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of somewhat. Alright? I’ll leave you alone after that.”

“I mean, I’m fine aren’t I?”

Your words come out harsher than you’d like, but you can’t help but be annoyed at the sudden intrusion. Not to mention the implication that you can’t take care of yourself.

“You clearly haven’t slept in a while so we both know that’s some bullshit.”

You sigh. He’s right, after all. You can’t remember the last time you slept, let alone for more than a few hours. Though used to staying up late on missions and patrols, you never went this long.

“I just have a lot on my mind, I guess,” you admit. “But I can take care of myself, Jason. So while I appreciate the concern, you can leave.”

He doesn’t protest, instead grumbling to himself while you show him to the door and effectively kick him out of your apartment. He stands outside the door for a while, wondering if he should try harder.

He decides against it, and thinks he’ll just have to check on you again tomorrow.

—

You almost feel guilty unpacking the takeout he got you, but then again, there weren’t many days lately where guilt and stress didn’t weigh heavily on you. As soon as you felt that familiar flood of negative thoughts and emotions, you knew it was time to withdraw. Still, through all of your episodes, you were yet to experience one quite this bad.

It’s nice that Jason checked on me, you think to yourself. At least someone thought of you. Sure, you’d told the others countless times over the years that solitude while you sort through your thoughts was imperative, and it was true. Regardless, it was nice to have someone check on you, even if it was annoying.

You dish yourself a plate of Chinese food and sit down on your couch, looking out at Gotham city through the window. It’s a dim, rainy night and the weather does nothing to help your mood. You find yourself picking at your food, having only a few bites before packing it up and leaving it in the fridge.

You didn’t eat much, but it’s a start.

—

Jason tries to push back the thoughts of you on patrol the next night, but he can’t. He just thinks of the bags that line your under eyes and the way your voice cracked when you said you were fine.

It’s only when he damn near loses an eye to a stray bullet that he realizes he can’t ignore it anymore. He ducks around a corner, ready to head back to his bike.

“Hood, where are you going?” Nightwing calls after him.

“I gotta go check on something!”

Red Robin scoffs, “y/n is a big kid, Todd. Just leave it alone.”

He shakes his head at the younger boy. He wants to argue with him but for once in his life, Jason Todd bites his tongue and turns the other cheek.

When you open the door, you’re unsurprised to see Jason Todd standing there in his Red Hood suit. “Jason?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, walking past you straight into your apartment. “I’m back.”

“I—welcome back?” You close the door behind him, spinning around on your heel and raising an eyebrow at the man in your living room.

“Look, I know I said I’d leave when I knew you were taken care of but I don’t—you’re not. Like, seriously, y/n, just talk to me.”

You sigh and take a seat on the couch. “Do you really want to listen?”

“Yes,” he says and sits down next to you, dropping his helmet on the cushion next to him. “If it helps you, I’ll listen til my damn ears bleed.”

His words are almost enough to bring a smile to your face, the muscles twitching almost painfully. You nod slowly, drawing your knees into your chest.

Jason analyzes your body language, seeing just how vulnerable and small you really are despite your usual front. He knows to tread lightly here.

“I—,” you tug on your hair slightly, trying to think of how to verbalise it. “Have you ever been so tired, like beyond tired, that you can’t sleep?”

He goes to speak, but thinks the better of it. You don’t need to hear about his own problems right now, but the truth is he has. He’s been where you are before—guilt and misery weighing so heavily on him that he can’t breathe.

“I don’t even know what triggered it. I was fine one day and then all of a sudden….” You gesture to your current state in hopes he gets the idea. “I really hate feeling like this,” tears prick at your eyes and your nose stings with every word, “but I’ve never really found a way to make it stop and—and—“

Jason is almost as surprised as you are when he sets a gloved hand on your shoulder. “Y/n,” his voice is soft, “it’s okay to feel this way.”

His touch helps ground you and you manage to take a deep, shaking breath. “I don’t want you to see me like this, Jason,” you say quietly, voice so soft he almost doesn’t hear.

“There’s no shame in the way you’re feeling.”

“I know that I just—can you just go? Please?”

He opens his mouth to speak, to argue with you, but thinks the better of it. You look so soft and sad and vulnerable. He doesn’t want to push his luck and push you further away from him.

He grabs his helmet and stands up. “Have a good night, y/n. I hope you manage to get some rest tonight.”

You watch Jason Todd walk out of your apartment door for the second night in a row.

—

Jason is surprised when his phone screen lights up with your picture while he’s on patrol. The last person he’d expect to call him at two in the morning was you, especially considering he hadn’t heard from you in a few days.

He tried to come and visit you the next night, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock at your door. Y/n’s tough, he thought to himself. You don’t need his help.

He can’t pick up the phone in the middle of a fight, though, and has to wait until the henchmen are in a pile on the ground. He doesn’t even retort to Damian’s comment on how long it took him to take them down—his mind too focused on you and what could possibly be wrong.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket, pressing redial on your number. Please be okay, he thinks.

You answer on the third ring, your voice sounding soft and defeated. “Jason?”

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

“I-I just…” you sigh into the phone and Jason’s heart clenches at the sound. “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Jason considers this for only a second. “Alright, I’ll be there in 10.”

He hangs up the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket, making the walk back to his bike.

“Todd?” Robin says in his earpiece.

“Pipe down, brat. I have more important things to deal with tonight.”

“More important than protecting the city?” Nightwing says over the comms.

You have no idea, he wants to say. But he doesn’t, opting to turn off the ear piece and focus on getting to you as quickly as he can. He said he’d be there in 10 minutes, but he’s at your apartment door in 7.

You’re waiting at the door when he knocks, a blanket over your shoulders, curled in on yourself. As soon as you open the door, you’re wrapping your arms around him.

His suit is damp from the rain, soaking into your pyjamas and making you shiver. Still, you don’t let go of him. It’s been a particularly rough day, and you needed some company to combat the thoughts filling your head.

“Miss me?” He jokes.

You say nothing, content to hold him as close to you as possible. He rubs your back gently before wrapping his arms around you and half carrying you back into your apartment.

He closes the door behind him, awkwardly adjusting to hold you up with one arm. Not that it’s much of a struggle for him, considering he’s a lot bigger than you are.

He’s torn, he doesn’t want to let go until you do, but he wants to talk to you and figure out why you needed him so badly. Lucky for him, he doesn’t have to make that choice because suddenly you’re pulling away from him and tucking your hair behind your ears.

You look anywhere but him. “Um, thanks for coming…”

“Anytime.”

You try to think of something to say after that, anything to break the ice and explain yourself and not make this a huge waste of time for him. Before you can speak, though, Jason goes first.

“You don’t have to explain it to me if you don’t want to,” he says. “I know it’s hard.”

You nod slowly, every movement of your body feels sluggish and heavy. You got a few hours of sleep the other day, but only out of sheer exhaustion. Now, it seems the exhaustion is catching up.

“I’m just gonna…sit down,” you plop onto the couch cushion and pull your knees into your chest. You pat the cushion next to you, inviting him closer.

Jason takes off his helmet and jacket, laying them on the kitchen island before sitting next to you. “Have you slept much?”

You shake your head, resting your cheek on the cushion and looking into his eyes. “A few hours the other day but…nothing since.”

“Did you want to try while I’m here?”

His eyes are soft, a jarring contrast from his other features. It’s almost as if he’s pleading with you.

“Y-yeah, okay,” you slowly rise from the couch, your damp pyjamas clinging to your body. You usher for Jason to follow you to your room.

You dig through your drawers, looking for a pair of clean pyjamas. You settle on a t-shirt you stole from Dick ages ago and a pair of sweats you used for training. Jason looks away while you change, trying his best to respect your privacy despite the way his face heats up.

You crawl into your bed, trying to rearrange the messy comforter to cover your body. “Do you…is it okay if you lay with me? It only has to be until I fall asleep.”

Jason knows he’s pushing his limits, his heart racing at the thought of being in bed with you. He shakes the thoughts away—this is completely innocent. He’s just taking care of you.

“Yeah, I can stay a while.”

Jason lays down next to you, his broad frame taking up more than half of your bed. Your breath catches in your throat at his proximity, and his warmth draws you in. Somehow, for the first time in days, his presence is enough to let you relax.

Jason lays with you for some time, just staring at the back of your head while you cuddle your pillow. You must have fallen asleep at some point, because your breathing is even and your body is relaxed.

He smiles, it’s the most calm he’s seen you in days. He knows you’re sleeping now and he can leave, but he doesn’t want to. What if you wake up and he’s gone? He doesn’t want to risk upsetting you.

You roll over in your sleep, your head landing perfectly under his arm and on his chest. His breath hitches in his throat at the contact. He tries to adjust his body to make it as comfortable as possible for you to lay on him.

He wraps an arm around your waist, cradling you within his own body. Jason can’t help but think to himself in this moment that he’ll take care of you no matter what, even if you can’t take care of yourself.

#dc #dc universe #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x reader #jason todd angst #red hood angst #hurt/comfort #batfam #batman

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