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jaegersdevil · 2 days

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fresh out the slammer [sukuna x reader] cw: singular mention of sa w/c: 1.1k a/n: all characters mentioned are 22, shoko is your best friend.

"you're not meant to be here."

the man who stands at your doorstep scoffs. your 6 foot 3, pink-haired ex takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you have to force down the urge to jump him.

you tilt your head when he doesn't answer. "ryomen, you need to leave. right now."

a single eyebrows arches. "i know damn well you ain't talkin’ to me like that."

rolling your eyes, you know he won’t do anything you say. so, opening your front door wider, sukuna steps inside, his left hand scratching the back of his neck.

“see, being nice isn’t that hard,” he teases, glancing at you over his shoulder. sighing, you close the door, eyeing him wearily as he lingers in the hallway.

“new key hook?” sukuna smiles, pointing at the wall.

you shake your head in disbelief. “why’re you here?”

sukuna raises his eyebrows, spinning to face you. but you realise your mistake too late.

with the door at your back and nowhere to go, you’re cornered by your ex-boyfriend. yet, he seems to know exactly what he’s doing, with his tongue poking his cheek as he approaches.

“where were you on sunday?”

your breath hitches in your throat when he runs a finger along your collarbone, but you won’t let him get you that easy.

“nowhere,” you insist, staring him down. he always said you were brave for doing that — you were the only one to ever do so.

“funny,” the corner of his mouth turns upward. “i heard something different.”

you give him no reaction. besides, what’s it to him?

“ok, and?”

“ooo,” he laughs deeply, his head tilting. “so it’s true.”

“ryomen—“

“come on baby, you know that’s not my name to you.”

“ryomen,” you press, putting your hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. “you need to leave.”

the faux pout he gives you makes you want to slap him, but you can’t bring yourself to do something so heinous to him.

“fine,” you concede. “yeah, i went on a hinge date, so what?”

“so what?” sukuna mutters bitterly. “it’s not ‘so what’ when he tries to force himself on you, baby.”

your face heats at the mention of it. “sukuna—“

“and you didn’t think to tell me?” he presses his hand on the door behind you, his body dangerously close to yours.

“i was scared,” you whisper, gaze on his chest to avoid his eyes. you notice his body visibly relax, his head hanging closer to yours to hear. “i knew you would do something about it, and i didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“you don’t need to worry about me,” sukuna asserts, his finger under your chin to lift your face towards his. “it’s already been taken care of, and i’m still here.”

your eyes widen slightly, head moving to look at his right hand on the door. spread on the brown wood is his hand, larger as always, the pale skin on his knuckles red and purple and bloody and you’re shocked you didn’t see it before.

reaching up, you grab sukuna’s hand to cradle it in your own. “you’re joking.”

“you’re not a joke to me, sweetheart.”

sighing, you side step him, holding his injured hand in your own. he follows mindlessly behind you, checking out his left hand that is just as bloody as the other.

entering the bathroom, you don’t need to tell him where to sit before you dig the first aid kit out of the cupboard beneath the sink. you hadn’t had to use it in a while.

“kuna,” you murmur, observing his hands. he doesn’t reply. instead, he watches you, like he always does.

faces level, you set everything onto the counter. standing between his thighs makes your body feel numb. and when one of his hands covers your hip, you focus on the other.

sukuna doesn’t flinch when you clean his knuckles with alcohol, and doesn’t object when you smooth frozen band-aids over the particularly bad cuts.

“thanks, baby,” sukuna says, not checking to see if you cleaned them correctly—you always do.

“don’t mention it,” you dismiss flippantly, putting the red soaked cloth in the sink and the aid pack back in the cupboard.

the silence is comfortable but charged with something you don’t want to acknowledge. the muted chatter from the tv in the living room penetrates the bathroom wall, and you come back to your senses.

“does shoko know?”

“she told me.”

you sigh, if she couldn’t get her hands on your hinge date, she’d tell someone who could—and he did.

“he had a bruise where you punched him,” sukuna quips. “but i may have made it worse.”

you twist your lips sheepishly. “yeah, well, i wasn’t letting him get away that easy.”

“that’s my girl.”

the comment makes your stomach flutter pathetically.

“you wanna stay over?” you blurt, face warm.

sukuna knows better than to tease you right now, so he nods, and stands from the closed toilet seat.

you swiftly leave the bathroom, pacing down the hallway to curl up on the couch. sukuna walks in idly, taking in the space he’s spent so much time in. one thing catches his eye, and then he’s poking fun at you.

“nice picture.”

your eyes dart to where he’s looking on the bookshelf, and god forbid, it’s a photo of the two of you at tokyo tower. but, you’re not embarrassed.

“yeah, i look hot.”

sukuna chuckles, sitting next to you and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “you look hot all the time, shut up.”

drawing in a breath, you can’t contain yourself anymore. you circle your arm around his neck, fingers threading through his pink locks. sukuna turns his head toward you, lips inches apart.

“feet off the table.”

“don’t tell me what to do.”

you snicker, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“fresh out the slammer,” you joke. “and you come here.”

“of course,” sukuna looks confused. “where else would i go?”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop your emotions from showing.

“i don’t know,” you glance down at when his fingers play with the drawstring of your sweatpants. “a new girl?”

“please,” sukuna scoffs. “like anyone else would put up with my shit.”

you give him a deadpan look.

sukuna rolls his eyes. “you’re my pretty baby, i’ll always come home to you or whatever,” he says lazily.

you run your thumb over his cheekbone. "kuna.”

he raises his eyebrows in question, but he knows what you’re asking.

“i need something from you," you mumble, tracing his lips with your eyes.

"oh yeah?" he smirks, voice low. "and what's that?"

you shrug, licking your lips. “nothing.”

sukuna rolls his eyes and lifts your hips up and over him, your knees bracketing his thighs. you squeal softly, forgetting just how strong he is.

sukuna shifts his hips underneath you. “you’re so—”

“kiss me.”

you don’t have to tell him twice.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #jjk #jjk x reader

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mischieveousmayhem · 1 day

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hiiii!!🩷 how are you?

I saw that you would like some requests in the #batmom so I have a fic idea

The idea is about each one of the batboys says to Batmom "your not my real mother" like angst/fluff and how would the bat mom react to it and handle it

Not my mother.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Batmom

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warnings: None (?), idk english that well 💀

Synopsis: He loves you , or maybe not?

—

"Jason, this is crazy. How do you have all F's 3 weeks into the semester?"

A disappointed Batmom stood in front of 13(?) year old Jason Todd. She had a frown drawn on her face. Jason looked down, sad that he is disappointing you and angry at himself.

"Do you not do your homework when I tell you to?" She asks a little more assertive while reading all the negative comments the teachers had left.

"I don't know." He responded quietly.

"How do you NOT know?" She was getting heated and it was clear in her tone. "All I want for you is to do your best and you don't even listen to me."

"I do listen to you." He speaks louder, aggressiveness in his tone.

"Jason Peter Todd, do not get an attitude with me because you have consequences to your actions. Now what is going on with you sleeping in class and not paying attention?" Your hands were now on your hips.

"Why do you even care?" You using his middle name made him mad.

"I am trying my best to make sure my son is set up to do good in life." Your hands now on your hips, "Until these grades are fixed, you are to not go on patrol because that is probably the root of these issues."

Jason was at this point angry. You were scolding him like a little kid, on top of that what's Batman without his Robin.

You we're about to walk away but then,

"YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOTHER, YOU PHONY, I CAN DO WHAT I WANT."

You stopped dead in your tracks. How do you respond to that? You just want what's best for your sweetest Jason.

You turned back to face him, his face was red probably from anger. You were pale, trying to process what your son had said.

"You know what..." You trailed off, "I'll just let your father handle this." You sat down the paper before walking off leaving Jason alone.

Which after he picks up the paper and looks at it.

Oh dear. What has he done?

It's obvious you were actually just caring for him. He was processing everything himself. He just got so angry, angry because he was sad that you were disappointed.

—

In your bedroom shared with your loving husband, you cried endlessly.

Have you failed as a mother? You just want your son to do his best. You didn't understand why he would say that. Maybe you just came off in the wrong way and it triggered him to go off on you.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts Bruce walked in.

"I was looking—" He stopped when he saw you crying and rushed to your side.

Dearest Bruce Wayne only had a soft spot for his wife and kids.

His arm wrapped around you tightly as your cried into his shoulder.

"What happened?" He asks.

"Well Jason brought home bad g—" You stopped for a minute to gasp in between sobs, "Home bad grades and then I was scolding him but I didn't mean to come off wrong and I told him not patrol and then he said.."

"He said what?"

"He said I'm not his real mom!" You exclaimed then cried harder. "I know it's true but I love him so much and it still hurts."

"Y/N, darling." He grabs your chin with his fingers so you're looking his eyes. "You know he probably didn't mean it. He is probably still adjusting to us too. It still won't slide though, I'll talk to him, ok?"

You nod as he pecks your cheek.

—

You were knocked out cold. You probably fell asleep while crying. But your awaken when you feel a smaller body climb in the bed next to you in the bed.

You wanted to smile but you were still half asleep and upset. You roll over to face the figure.

"Hey Y/N." The voice spoke.

"Hi Jay." You responded softly, the tone of sadness in your voice even though you tried to cover it up. However, Jason Todd knew that his mother was upset and he frowned.

You two faced each other while laying there in silence. This lasted for about two minutes before he broke the silence.

"I'm sorry I said what I did."

"I know. It's ok."

"Then why are you do sad?" He questioned.

"Words hurt sometimes Jay and I know you didn't mean it but it still felt like a dagger to my heart."

He frowned even more. He hurt you. The woman who is his mother figure and cares so much for him.

"But I will always forgive you my little one. I'm sorry for being a bad mother." You apologized.

"You're not a bad mother, you're a perfect mother. I'm just a kid who didn't understand you were doing your job until after." He said.

"Jay, I just want you to do good, and always follow your dreams."

"I will mom, I promise." When he said mom you smiled.

He scooted closer to you and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.

This was a mothers love, that is what made you his mom.

"I love you mom."

"I love you most, Jason."

#fanfic #bruce wayne #batmom #bruce wayne x reader #damian wayne x batmom #dc comics #bruce x reader #jason todd x batmom #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason peter todd #dcu #dc universe #dick grayson x batmom #tim drake x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom

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danikamariewrites · 1 day

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Okay but being mated to Az, Cass, and Nesta but you don’t know and a foreign dignitary comes to stay at the House of Wind with the four of you and Rhys asks you to seduce/be flirty with them and the three of them are absolutely feral trying to keep their jealousy down

Just One Night

Nessian x Azriel x reader

A/n: I’ve been dying to write another fic with these four! They would absolutely want to kill Rhys for this especially Nesta.

Warnings: possessive Nessian & Azriel

Today is the day. Nesta had decided for the group that today they would tell you about the bond. She was just waiting for you all to get out of a meeting with Rhys and her sister. The last thing Nesta wanted was to confess the bond - and her love for you - in front of Rhys.

Nesta heard the angry footsteps echoing off the marble floor of her mates before she saw them. Setting her book down she tilted her head curiously at their disgruntled looks. The males dropped into their respective arms chairs letting out dejected sighs. Nesta stood with her arms crossed and a raised brow as she looked between the two.

“Well.” She said sharply. Azriel let out a low growl from the back of his throat. She felt his annoyance down the bond and looked to Cassian for an answer. Sighing through his mouth and rubbing the bridge of his nose Cassian bites out, “Rhys is having her seduce the emissary from Montesere. Cyrus Yarrow.”

When they looked up at Nesta those silver flames were dancing with anger in her eyes. Her left one practically twitching. “He’s having her do what?” She growled. Nesta turned on her heel, black dress flaring dramatically. Cassian grabbed her wrist before she could go give Rhys a piece of her mind.

Her fist balled. The first and only warning Cassian would get to release her. Letting go his open hand hovered cautiously. “Wait. She, just…she took the job. She knows what to get from the guy and we won’t let it get farther than that, yeah?” Nesta cracked her neck, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Fine.”

“You don’t want to be overbearing, Nes.” Azriel said. That deep, even voice relaxing her. “You’re right.” She looked back at her mates as Azriel waved her over. His arms open for her. Without hesitating Nesta sat on Azriel’s thigh, resting her head against his chest. “I know you’re impatient,” he says against her hair, “the Mother knows we are too, but we want to make it special for her.”

———

Pulling out the garment bag from your closet a knock sounded at your bedroom door. “Come in!” You hear whom ever enter, shuffling around the room. Nesta poked her head in your closet. You smile at her, “Hey you.” She gives you an equally dazzling smile. For a moment you swear something like love sparkles in her eyes.

Your heart leaped at the thought then quickly sunk. Remembering how in love she is with Cass. Blinking rapidly you plaster that smile back on your face. “What’s up?” You ask lightly. “I thought we could get ready for the ball together.”

You nod vigorously. “I would love that.” You and Mor used to get ready together - Feyre too - until she found Emerie. Usually when Rhys gave you a job for the evening you liked to get ready alone. Being alone lets you think through your plan for the night. Being with Nesta will be a nice change though. She was able to distract you from the awaiting nightmare of Cyrus.

Cyrus Yarrow was renowned for the females he chose to surround himself with. Always beautiful and charming. He was also quite demanding and handsy when he found something he liked. A shiver runs down your spine causing you to shake, your chin dropping to your chest.

Looking back up you saw Nesta had moved closer to your face. Her hand poised to draw with the kohl on your lid. “Are you ok?” You give her a small nod. “Stay still,” she giggled. A warmth bloomed in your chest at the sound.

———

The ball was in full swing. Nesta had stolen you for the first dance before you were swept away by Cyrus. Azriel had grabbed her waist before she could kill the male, dragging her into a waltz she could do in her sleep. Cassian was sending waves of calm to her down the bond. He stepped in for Az once the song was over. Also so Azriel could keep an eye on you for the night.

“Remember what Azriel said, Nes.” She gave him a curt nod, looking over her shoulder for you as they spin around the floor. “Hey,” Cass demanded, taking his hand from her waist to grip her chin. “She is fine. She is capable. I know the instinct to protect her and be by her is intense, we’re feeling it too. But tomorrow, he will be gone.” “Yeah.” She mumbled. Cassian pressed a quick kiss to Nesta’s lips before dipping her dramatically.

Azriel watched from the shadows as you entertained Cyrus. His party from Montesere was nothing like him. Kind and proper as they chatted with Mor and Feyre. His eyes bounced between the groups wanting to make sure that his court was safe. Feyre stood up straighter. A shocked and confused look pulling at her features.

He met his High Lady’s gaze and she tapped on his mental shield wasting no time in updating her spymaster. Cyrus no longer held the power they were told about. His Lord had stripped his title a week ago. This relieved Azriel. It meant he wouldn’t feel guilty about pulling you away from work and that Rhys wouldn’t give him a tongue lashing.

The Shadowsinger was about to step in and save you from Cyrus’s awfulness when a panicked feeling froze him in place. His shadows had reported Nesta and Cassian were safe. He even spotted them smiling and laughing as they danced.

When the realization hit Azriel that it was you projecting your feelings down the bond ran to you, sending his shadows ahead to pull Cyrus off of you. The look of disgust on your face had his instincts to protect you screaming at him to go.

Azriel drew Truth Teller, holding it to Cyrus’s neck. “Back away from my mate.” Azriel said practically roared. The fae around them stopped, gasps sounded through the crowd as they stared. You clung to Azriel’s arm through the whole ordeal. As the word mate left his mouth you stared up at Az, your eyes twinkling with love.

You had always had a crush on Azriel. But Nesta, you thought to yourself. No, you’d let her go. You have Az now. “Mate,” you repeat. Azriel stilled as the realization of the word he just spoke dawned on him. He slowly turned to look at you. The corners of your lip turning up at the his shock.

“Yeah, umm…” His gaze drifted behind you. You followed his gaze to find a stunned Cassian and a fuming Nesta. “Az?” You ask softly. The party had resumed around you as the couple stepped closer. Cassian placed his hands on Nesta’s shoulders in a calming manner. “Why don’t we all go talk somewhere else.” Cass suggested. “Why do we all,” you trail off as Nesta grabs your hand to drag you out of the ball room.

You kept looking between Nesta, Azriel, and Cassian as she leads you to the living quarters of the House of Wind. Her iron grip never leaving you. Entering the main living room Nesta drops your hand making a beeline for the bar cart housing one of Rhys’s expensive bottles of whiskey. Pouring herself a finger she downs the amber liquid in one go.

“I thought,” she started, her tone dangerously calm, “we wanted to make it special. To do something sweet for our mate.” Nesta flashed her perfect canines in a saccharine smile at the males. Azriel’s jaw tightened. His head dropped, clearly frustrated with himself.

You hold his hand with both of yours. Running your thumb across the back of his hand in calming circles. Nesta’s words caught up with your brain. Our, she had said.

You looked at her with wide eyes. “Our? As in all three of you are my mates.” Cassian couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah sweetheart. You have all three of us. We’ve been waiting to tell you and we wanted to make it special. Cyrus just got in the way.” You covered your mouth as happy tears lined your eyes. That warm feeling in your chest that appeared with Nesta earlier returning. The bond glowing fiercely as it branched out to all three of them.

You sink on to the plush couch taking in the information. You have been blessed with three mates. Each one you were madly in love with. And you get to love them all for the rest of your life!

Cassian came to sit beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side. You could sense the apology on his lips before he could even say it. Cassian has always been too apologetic for his own good. You grabbed his hand resting on his thigh. “I’m not mad. I am incredibly happy to hear this.” Cassian’s head dropped to rest on yours. Azriel takes the spot next to you wrapping his arms around your waist pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You stare at Nesta who hadn’t moved an inch since you entered the room. You wave her over to join couch snuggles, tugging on the bond to entice her. Nesta ran at you. Jumping to straddle your lap and pushing Cass and Az off you. You hugged her tightly inhaling her scent of fire and steel masked by the vanilla and almond perfume she wears.

“I love you so much, y/n.” She whispered just for you to hear. “I love you, Nes. With all my heart.” You whispered back, just for her to hear.

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

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Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of: death, violence, torture, drug use, promiscuity, more spiraling, self-loathing.

Word Count: 240

Previously On...: Sam had to leave town, and now you're on this mission all alone.

A/N: OK! Ya'll are lucky I just wrote something that made me WEEP, so I need a pick-me-up! Here's Part 1 of Chapter 25!

HAVING SAID THAT! CHAPTER 25 HAS SOME HEAVY THEMES THAT I AM *NOT* INCLUDING IN THE WARNING TO AVOID SPOILERS. IF YOU NEED TO KNOW WHAT IT IS FOR YOUR OWN SANITY/MENTAL HEALTH, DM ME!!!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

It was three days later when the news reported that Chloe’s body had been found in the sand dunes a few miles south of the city limits. She’d been sexually assaulted, tortured. The police were not disclosing cause of death at this time.

She had lied to you. According to the news, she was only fifteen years old, not eighteen, like she’d said. A child.

In the days that followed, you blamed yourself. How could you not? You’d been there, you’d been right there when they took her, and you’d been too high out of your mind to notice, to do a damned thing about it, and now she was dead. In a weird way you couldn’t fully understand, you felt like you had been responsible for murdering your younger self.

And so, you spiraled. Without Sam around to keep you grounded, it was surprisingly easy. You took drugs you bought at the club (though always at the apartment, never while you were undercover–never again). You drank. You fucked. Anything you could do to numb the gnawing guilt you felt in your chest, even for just a little while. But it was never enough. Chloe’s face was always there, in the back of your mind, begging to know why you failed her, what she had done to make her not worthy of saving her life. But how could you tell a ghost that you were the one who wasn’t worthy?

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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somethingsomethingwords · 22 hours

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Hello everybody. Long time no see, but it's been one of those months, you know. This was something I've been thinking about for a while, but I only finished it because of @nico-di-genova. So this is for you honey.

As always thanks to everyone for reading. Enjoy 💜

Everything was going great. Fernando was at a party, where people were drinking and having fun. All around him, the younger drivers were finally decompressing, enjoying the alcohol, the food and the company.

At the center of the sea of people, there was the brightest star of the night.

Lance had finally won a race, and he was celebrating as loudly as he could, sandwiched between Esteban and Mick.

He envied the joy written all over their faces, and how close they were.

He loved the sport, even after his fake retirement, even after all those years, but there was something about maiden wins that still no other win could recreate.

Jóder, soy tan viejo was thinking Nando, when someone tapped his shoulder.

"I think it's late enough, no?" asked Pierre, and it really was getting late, and the trio seemed to be losing energy.

"Yeah, sounds about right. How about we split them? I'm taking Mick, and you take your teammates?" said Lewis, already stepping towards the boys.

Pierre started following him, muttering some curses that would have made blush a sailor. Nando snorted at the scene, and looked as the Brit took the German, while the French men started bickering.

The Canadian was looking around, confused after losing his partners in crime, but then he turned towards Fernando and smiled, slowly making his way towards the Spanish.

"Hola Lancito. Want to go?" asked Nando, seeing the younger man swinging slightly on his feet.

"I lost Estie and Mickie. Où sont-ils?"

Half drunk out of his mind, and he was still worried about his friends. Lance's loyalty really knew no bounds.

"They're ok, with Lewis and Pierre. I will take you home." and with that, he placed his hand on the younger's lower back.

The reaction was immediate. Lance's whole body shivered and pressed against his side, lowering his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Too loud. Je veux du silence"

"Oui mon amour. Let's go somewhere quiet" his French was heavily accented, but Lance seemed satisfied enough.

Nando guided the other man to his car, and drove them to their shared hotel, while Lance napped with his face against the window and his neck in a weird position.

When they arrived, Fernando struggled a little to wake the other enough to put him vertically in the elevator and walk to his room. At the door, Lance refused to lean against the doorframe, and settled only when he was hugging Fernando. "Warm" was the only word he said.

"Lance, I need the key" Fernando spoke softly.

"Poche" just answered the taller man, with no visible intention to loosen the embrace.

Fernando tried to be respectful, and to not feel the solid curve pressed against his hand. He soon found the key in his back pocket, and opened the door.

Once they were both in, he quickly realised that Lance would not move further, so he just put him on the bed, and went to take a glass and fill it with water.

Returning to the bedroom, he found Lance half naked.

"Where are your pants?" he asked, voice an octave too high, almost dropping the glass, before setting it on a nightstand.

"Lost them. Too hot" he shrugged.

Then, even more bafflingly, he started giggling.

"What is now?" he asked, fondly looking as Lance tried to take off his shirt without opening a single button. He succeeded, but his hair was now a fluffy mess.

"You remind me of Nano"

The use of his nickname surprised Fernando. The younger man refused using it, always sticking with his full name. Then the absurdity of it all hit him, and he started giggling as well.

"Ah, sì? How so?"

He was getting curious, sue him.

"It's your voice. It's soft and warm. Would listen for hours"

Fernando wasn't expecting this answer, but it melted his heart anyway.

"Mhhh. Then want a bedtime story?"

Any more time spent with Lance was a gift and a surprise wrapped in wonder. He was not going to deny himself this experience, even only for blackmail reasons. Jokingly, he was done with mind games and tricks. He would never do them again, especially not against Lance.

"Nah. A secret"

"A secret, mh? Let's trade. You tell me, I tell you" if Fernando was going to indulge him, at least it was going to be funny.

"Ça va...Ah, oui, daccord, j'en ai un. I like him so much" and then started giggling again.

Fernando felt like all of his body had gone stone cold, and couldn't move a muscle. He couldn't believe what the other told him. But before he could say anything, Lance nestled in the sheets, and softly said while closing his eyes:

"I like him soooooo much, even if he doesn't feel the same. It's ok, don't think I'd deserve him. What we have, it's special. It is enough"

And with this, he was done for the day.

And he wasn't the only one. Fernando felt like he was going to explode, too many thoughts in his head and words on his tongue, with no one to talk to. He could feel his hair turning gray.

But a single look to that peaceful face, and his heart stopped beating erratically. Everything was going to be alright. They could face this together.

This and more, hopefully.

They were going to solve this tangled mess, but first they both needed to rest.

So he left a note for Lance, simply writing "Call me in the morning. -FA" on a piece of paper and leaving it on top of Lance's phone, where he was sure the other man would see it, and then he left the room, dreaming of his own bed and a restful night of sleep.

---

He was never going to win another GP ever again, if the results were the pounding headache and the rancid taste in his mouth.

He slowly opened his eyes, careful of the half opened blinds, and looked around.

Thanks to some sort of divine intervention, he had made it to the hotel safe and sound.

He got up and went to the bathroom, peeing, washing his face and brushing his teeth.

When he came back to the bedroom, he started looking for his phone. He almost missed it, but then noticed it was just half covered by a yellow post-it. It simply said "Call me in the morning. -FA".

Ok, so he probably would have to thank Fernando for making it to his bed unscathed. He tried to think about the night before, especially trying to remember his interaction with the Spanish driver.

At first, he couldn't remember anything out of the ordinary, then it hit him.

An echo of his own giggle, soft brown eyes, the whisper of a "like him so much".

Oh, no.

Oh no.

He had done it. He confessed, and now Fernando was going to be overly amused about it. Or overly nice, and Lance didn't know what was worse.

Rejection was always a bitch, but basically having to live with your unrequited crush for 24 week-ends? That was going to be a nightmare to go through for all parts involved.

Or maybe just for Lance, with his stupid feelings and his too-hopeful heart.

Ugh, Lance just didn't know what to do.

On one hand, he wanted to call Fernando and be done with all of this. On the other, he wanted to pretend nothing happened, and everything was fine and normal and good.

He sighed, because deep down he knew he was going to have to talk with Fernando, if he liked it or not.

Ok, let's analyze. He knows I like him, and still wants to talk to me. So, he is going to reject me kindly, at least. Ok, we can totally take it like champs. Basic rule still applied: no tears in front of him. It should be quick and painless. Ok, we can do this.

So he took his time in the shower, and ordered a healthy if slightly generous breakfast.

When he was done, he brushed his teeth, wore his comfort hoodie and left his room in a controlled chaos.

One mess at a time: first his love life, then his room.

He knew that Fernando's room was the one across from his, so he didn't even bother calling. He simply knocked.

When the door opened, Lance was sure he had hit his head badly the night before. Maybe the possible concussion and heavy hepatic failure led him to an early grave.

But if death meant he could get to see a still semi-wet Nando, covered just by a tiny towel low on his hips, well, he lived a rich and full life, if a little short.

He could feel himself staring, but also couldn't take his eyes off the view.

He just waited for the self-combustion to take him.

Then he heard a light chuckle, and a hand gently gripped his sleeve, pulling him inside.

When the subject of his awe turned his back on him, walking to the adjacent kitchenette, his brain seemed to be back online.

He shook his head and closed the door behind himself like a particularly stupid rabbit that voluntarily enters the den of a particularly fascinating fox.

Fernando must have known how nervous he was feeling, because he gave him a glass of water and led him to the couch.

"Wait here, I'll be right back" said the Spanish man, leaving Lance alone, stunned and with the glass still in his hand.

You're being ridiculous, grow a pair and just talk like the adult you supposedly are, a voice in his head that sounded like his sister's gently scolded him.

He drank the water while waiting, and felt slightly better.

When Fernando re-entered the room, calm and collected and clothed, Lance waited until he was seated before looking him in the eyes and starting speaking.

"Thank you for last night. For bringing me here safely, I mean"

Not the smoother transition ever, but Fernando had to be used to how stilted he sounded, and would appreciate it anyway.

"No need to. We are friends, no?" he asked with something in his eyes that Lance couldn't describe, but that made him want to talk more.

"About that... I also wanted to say sorry if I said something weird yesterday"

See Chloe? He was actually talking about things that embarrassed him instead of forever avoiding them. Well, not really being super specific, but small progress was still progress.

"Hmm... And what are you referring to?"

The bastard was actually going to make him say the words. Well, in for a penny...

"That I like you"

Lance could feel his cheeks heating up and could no longer stand Fernando's gaze, so he moved his eyes until he was watching a particularly boring patch of carpet.

"Lance, look at me"

It only took those four words, spoken in a tone so gentle and warm to bring Lance's eyes back to Fernando's.

"Why are you apologizing? Did you lie?" he asked softly.

"No" he half shouted, and then flinched because of the reaction. "No, I do like you" he said, exhaling.

"Then what are you apologizing for?"

Fernando could be soft when he wanted, but that didn't stop him from being stubborn.

"I didn't want to offend you" and also didn't want you to really know, because it's embarrassing and you deserve better and I can't be normal about this nor you.

He didn't say the words, but Fernando must have been able to hear them anyway, because he responded firmly.

"You didn't"

That lifted a huge weight from Lance's shoulders. Maybe this partnership could still be saved.

"Ok. Good, I'm glad" he was being awkward and subtly twisting his fingers. But nothing escaped Fernando's attention.

Seeing how the younger man was spiralling in his own thoughts, he didn't hesitate, reaching out to him and taking a hold of his hands.

"There is no need to be nervous. Just tell me again, tell me properly"

Lance could see in his eyes the want and the patience and something else.

They were in this together, he suddenly realised.

You are not alone anymore, said his mental Chloe.

He inhaled as much air as he could, held it and then exhaled. He found the strength he needed in a pair of brown eyes that were already looking in his own.

"I've been wanting to tell you for so long. I like you. I like how you drive, how you give feedback on the car and how you are always, no matter what, the best. But that's just racing stuff. I like how you compliment me, how you never made me feel less than, or just a spoiled kid, how you make me feel. But those are selfish reasons. I like how kind you are with kids, how ready you are to help any of the other drivers. But most importantly, I like you, Fernando Alonso, two times world champion, menace on and off track, mentor and teammate and friend and so much more. I like you, Nando"

He barely finished talking that there was a pair of lips on his own, soft and warm and gentle.

He realised he closed his eyes only when he opened them, and in front was Fernando, bright and shining and perfect in every way that mattered. To Lance, at least.

"You made me wait a long time, no? Let's not waste anymore" he said before diving in a second kiss that was hot and passionate and demanding.

Fernando broke the kiss and stood up, starting to walk, and Lance could only follow the man leading him towards his bed, and towards a life together.

#strollonso #fernando alonso #lance stroll #grumpy cat boy x besotted old man #some love for lance #because he deserves it #insecure lance is insecure but nando gets him so...

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dazai-ritualist · 2 days

Note

Ok so another part to your yandere alastor series?! Im like obsessed with them, i love the way you write Alastor!!

So an idea i guess? I love the idea Alastor slowly corrupting his kids and reader trying her best to correct them? Obviously she can’t. Idk, i can see Al wanting his son carry on his legacy while his daughter is becomes a sweet but strong woman who can probably destroy your life in a matter of minutes. I just want his kids to get corrupted to become like him!! 😭

IN A MOURNING WARNING, NO ONE HEARD

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!]

— day by day, alastor ruined your children with his malicious thoughts, while you set them straight. it’s as if evil and good decided to fight their battle in your house.

every day in this house was a headache. sleeping beside the monster called husband every night, him cuddled up to your side as if he hadn’t broken your hopes for years. acting in front of your children as if everything was fine— that they had parents who were madly in love with each other. and, raising your children. of course, raising them in itself is difficult, but alastor seems to just enjoy making your life a hell on earth.

implanting evil thoughts into your babies’ minds, and there was no one else but you to fix his mess. to instill morals in their minds, and to make sure they grow up to be diligent and kind.

sitting down at the dinner table seemed to grow harder and harder each day. resisting the urge to vomit as your son told you and alastor of how he found a rat at school, and how he had cut its’ tail off to see if it’d regrow like a lizard. the image of your little boy being so cruel made you sick to your stomach. and, alastor, he’d done nothing but laugh. “oh, my! quite the experiment, my boy!” he chuckled as he took another bite of his food. “now, dear… that isn’t very nice, don’t you think?” you frowned. “mmh, but dad said that i should feed my curiosity!” noah pouted.

“well, dad is true on that. but, you shouldn’t feed your curiosity if it hurts other people or animals.” you said, lecturing him. “au contraire, my love.” alastor interrupted. “id say that curiosity is one of the most important human emotions! how else do you think mankind discovered to hunt and cook chicken, pork, beef…” he rambled. “they are good for the body, aren’t they? they give the body protein so that they’re strong and so they can protect the people they love! don’t you want our little boy to protect his friends and family?” he raised an eyebrow. “yeah, momma! so that i can protect you and emilia!” noah said.

you felt your heart crack at his words. it seemed as if there was no hope in undoing what alastor had done. as if the little boy you worked hard to raise died. but, maybe there was still hope for your daughter.

“oh, and dad!” noah said excitedly as he looked to alastor. “my friends think its so cool that we go hunting, and they wanna join too! can we bring them, please?” noah begged, bringing alastor’s amusement. “aw, they want to join us? hm, i suppose we could, but only if they’re as well-behaved as you!” he hummed, to noah’s delight. “really?! you’re the best, dad!” noah grinned, running to alastor to loosely hug him by the neck. “yes, yes… now, go finish your meal. your mother worked hard to cook that, and it won’t taste so good when it’s cold.” he said, patting his son on the head.

you zoned out, staring at your daughter in her chair, playing with her food, and scratching the bowl with her little fork. she giggled and talked to herself, before blood started flowing from her nose. “oh, dear…” you muttered under your breath, running to the kitchen to get a tissue paper. “eww! momma, emilia is drinking her own blood! yuck!” noah called out, scrunching his face in disgust. and, when you returned, emilia was, indeed, drinking her own blood— licking her top lip as the blood leaked, and smiling at the metallic taste in her mouth. “oh, emi, sweetie… don’t do that. blood is yucky.” you scolded your daughter as you wiped the blood from her nose.

“yummy!” she shouted, licking her lip for the remains. alastor grinned at her comment, “i couldn’t agree more, baby!” he laughed, swaying the water in his glass. “not right now, alastor. emi is bleeding.” you huffed out in a frustrated manner. “ah, i suppose you’re right, darling. emi, baby, are you okay?” he cooed to your daughter across the table. “i’m okay, daddy!” she grinned, going back to eating as per usual, despite the roll of tissue in her nostril.

“are you okay, my love?” alastor asked, his eyes moving to you. “i’m alright, just exhausted today.” you let out, keeping your emotions and intentions to yourself. “hmm, then why don’t you rest after dinner, dear? noah and i can wash the dishes.” he assured you. “wah?! but, dad, i wanna go play!” noah huffed and pouted. “now, son… protecting also means to help others when they are tired. don’t you wanna help momma?” he asked your son. and as noah thought it over, alastor spoke again, giving him more of an incentive. “now, i hate to do this… but, if you don’t help your mother, i won’t bring your friends to hunt.” noah’s eyes widened at the unfairness. “what?!” he frowned. “guh, fine, ill do the dishes!” he pouted, gathering the cleared dishes and bringing them to the sink. “hmph, good boy.” he grinned. “go rest now, dear.”

and, as you went up the stairs, that moment finally dawned on you. that hunting with his friends and father meant so much to him, he was willing to do household chores. it shattered your heart as tears filled your eyes— why couldn’t you go back to a simpler time? when it was just the two of you. when all you had was each other.

“momma, i missed you!” noah said hugging your legs as you returned from work. “aw, i missed you too, baby!” you smiled at your precious boy. “c’mon! i wanna play with you!” he said, attempting to pull you by your wrist. “in a second, sweetie! momma has to take off her heels!” you laughed.

that memory was 6 years ago.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

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internetscenarios · 2 days

Text

ok i had a vision and went with it

jschlatt x reader baking stream ♡︎

you and your boyfriend jay were no stranger to baking, but on stream? something you weren’t used too, while jay had done a few times before.

his online persona ‘jschlatt’ was a lot more tough, while the persona you knew was a lot more sweet and caring. you weren’t sure whether he would keep that behaviour on stream or not, but you were about to find out.

“you gonna be okay on stream?” he places a hand on your lower back, guiding you as you both walked too the kitchen.

“mhm, i’ll be fine. it’s only like baking with you but theres just a gazillion people watching.” you laugh a little, entering your shared kitchen noticing the setup.

he chuckles, walking over to the camera to make everything prepared for their stream.

soon enough, the stream had started, jay had done an introduction to what was gonna happen and what the two of you were doing.

you could barely read the chat, it was going so fast. somehow jay was skimming through it like it was a normal speed.

“y/n, somebody said your pretty.”

“awe, thank you!”

you spoke happily, stirring the mixture of the cupcakes you planned on baking.

“are you sure you know how to bake jay? last time you almost set the house on fire.”

he lets out a cackle, rolling his eyes before responding.

“i know exactly what i’m doing. you’re the one who tried putting the cereal box in the fridge.”

with a few laughs inbetween conversations, the cupcakes were soon enough finished.

you knew your way around decorating, so once they were cool enough to put icing on, you were straight at it.

there was some pink icing the to top off the plain vanilla cupcakes, some sprinkles and all placed on a plate.

“you did a good job, toots.”

jay says, kissing your temple’s side with an arm around your waist. this makes the chat go wild, expected of course.

this makes you smile, picking up a cupcake and holding it out for him too try. immediately he takes a bite, his eyes widening, a little taken aback considering they were actually nice.

soon, the stream ends and its just you two. you on the bed, him sat at his desk editing.

“those cupcakes were really nice hun, you did well.”

“thank you jay.”

#schlatt x you #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #schlatt

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hippolotamus · 19 hours

Note

Hiiiii Hippo 💕💕💕

Buddie fic title:

If only I knew you had electric fingerprints

-❤️🪐

Hiiii Saturn!!!! So lovely to see you here! You said Buddie. Please know you have my eternal gratitude for forgiving my slip into Diaz Family Feels. 💞🦛

After the debacle of broken salad bowls, 'I think you should go home' and 'This is your mess now', Eddie thought that he and Chris had worked through the biggest tangles of dating in the Diaz household. Introducing Marisol was almost a non-event. Eddie might even go so far as to call it a success.

He will now admit that line of thinking was more than a bit premature and naïve on his part.

Maybe it was his own growth and evolutions in the relationship department that led him to assume Christopher wouldn't face the same issues. And, well, technically he didn't. No, Eddie's son dealt him an entirely new, foreign set of tribulations. A one-eighty of Eddie's nesting instincts where Christopher is leading on five different girls. Five!

Wasn't it just last year they were discussing how much shirt sleeve was acceptable to show? What the hell happened?

And, OK, it's a new world with new methods of communication and apps and how teenagers interact with each other. Eddie likes to think he isn't completely stupid, because he tries to stay informed about current trends that he would honestly rather not know about. But no article or discussion with the school guidance counselor - or Frank - could have prepared him for tonight. No tips, tricks, signs to watch for could have fortified him for the devastating blow of 'We loved her and she left us anyway' and 'I can't remember her voice anymore'.

When Buck emerges from Chris's room, Eddie is still leaning against the wall, crushed under the weight of a thousand emotions and questions, attempting to prevent his heart from spilling past the walls of his chest. To keep it from slipping through the makeshift cage where his fingers press bruises into his skin, just below his collarbone.

Buck squeezes Eddie's shoulder before wordlessly leading them to the kitchen where he pours them both a glass of water and he waits. Waits for Eddie to speak, because it's what they do. They don't press. And maybe they should - more or earlier - but that's another thought for another day. For another version of Eddie that doesn't feel like the ground has been ripped out from underneath him.

"I don't- How am I supposed to-" Eddie blows out a harsh breath, frustrated that he can't form a complete question. That there is no entry in the non-existent Parenting Handbook for how to tackle this scenario.

"Eds," Buck says the nickname so carefully, so gently, like his tongue is shaping it from the most fragile glass. His hand tentatively slides across the tabletop until it's resting on top of Eddie's own. "You don't need to have all the answers or know exactly what to do."

"I know I don't. It's just-" He cuts himself off, huffing out an unamused chuckle. Because he doesn't know.

And, look, Eddie is fully aware that he doesn't have to be one hundred percent in control all the time, but it doesn't make him hate whatever this is any less. This combination of lost and thrown off course; of sad, bitter anger muddled together with desperation. His own eagerness to bargain for a way to make this situation more palatable. A pathetic yearning for the chance to go back. To never enlist and close himself off. To splurge on the digital camera with video recorder so he could capture a truly ludicrous amount of everyday, mundane moments.

How many hours of footage might they have collected? Of simple things like Shannon chopping vegetables or putting on makeup before a night out. Her and Eddie slow dancing in the backyard to music only they could hear. Or her laughing, bright and bold, as she smudged dirt and filth across Eddie's cheek after he showed her how to change the oil in her car. The way he pulled her in with his own grimy hands, pressing their mouths together so he could swallow the sound.

He blinks rapidly to keep tears from falling as he wonders how many instances would have featured her rolling her eyes - exactly the way Christopher does now - and shoving her palm in front of the lens.

But he'll never know because he's stuck with the choices he made. That they made. He can tell their son stories, bring him for graveside visits, and offer small souvenirs of the time Shannon had on earth, but that's all Eddie can do. He can't replicate what it was like to be in her presence. He can't convey how she was soft and gentle and all the things Eddie isn't, while also being sharp and spirited. How she smelled like peonies and summer rain.

Whatever he has to offer is two dimensional. Framed photographs, memories stored in his mind. Some of them also stored in Chris's though Eddie suspects in a completely different way. Hopefully in a way that doesn't taste as much like guilt and regret for things left unfinished and words left unsaid. Words like-

Dear Christopher.

He swallows hard around the phantom taste of sea spray from the Pacific Ocean, has the urge to claw at damp, sun-warmed sand that isn't there. And god only knows how his best friend has any idea what's scratching at Eddie's brain, but he does. And Eddie is so, so grateful when Buck rubs his thumb across Eddie's knuckles and asks if he should stay or would Eddie rather it just be him and Chris.

As much as Eddie would like Buck to be present as an extra layer of protection, he knows this is something he has to do himself. Even though, as he walks Buck to the front door, promising to call later, he gets the distinct feeling he won't actually be alone.

In the low lighting currently casting shadows around his bedroom, Eddie's fingers tremble as he reaches for the small safe in the back of his closet. A simple design meant to hold important, precious things. The metal dial is cool under his fingertips, easily manipulated as he rotates it right and left and right again until the door pulls open.

It's been years since he read the words written in Shannon's flowing script, but he knows them like he knows his own name. He traces over her loops and arches, wishing, like always, that he had more time. That he could put off performing this errand for a few more years, decades, lifetimes. Even if he knows it's only for selfish reasons. Because he owes this to Chris and to Shannon. It's on him to follow her instructions and deliver this remaining link between mother and son.

He holds the folded pieces of paper in his hands, feeling something familiar wrap around him that isn’t the usual despair. Something that's more like spun gold flowing between the note and his skin.

Eddie bites back a sob as it dives beneath the surface to wind its way around nerves and spill through blood vessels on its way to his heart. As a calm takes root, anchoring in all four chambers, unfurling and flourishing. As the room, that typically smells like lavender fabric softener and the fancy vanilla linen spray Pepa bought for him, is permeated by the overwhelming scent of Texas nights - filled with crackling humidity wrapped in silvery starlight - and velvety pink peonies.

He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing it in, inhaling deeply to his core like it might allow him to hold onto this moment forever. When at last his lungs protest, forcing him to exhale, his eyes flutter open again.

Eddie closes the door to the safe, hearing it shut with a satisfying click.

"Thank you," he whispers, letting his gaze drift to the letter once more before he walks down the hall to pass it to its rightful owner. His son. Their son. A living, breathing tether between past, present and future.

He knocks on the doorframe, briefly saddened by the sight of Shannon and Christopher’s picture turned face down on the desk. It only makes him more sure he’s doing the right thing.

“Hey, buddy…”

For additional Feels™️ may I recommend

#hippo gets mail #jfc i must go cry now #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #shannon diaz #saturn tag 🪐#7x1 coda #i guess?#hippo writes #fic title ask

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captainnameless · 2 days

Note

ok but that “hey” vid from Max/GP that you reposted has me in my feels. I love sweet angel Max and his softness but I also love absolute brat Max and I feel like we haven’t spoken about him in a bit.

Any thoughts on that? Preferably no nonsense GP reeling him back in?

GP should have known it would be a challenging day when Daniel sheepishly handed Max over at the RB garage today.

Max’s brows furrowed in a stroppy frown, Daniel pushing an overfilled bag into GP’s arms. “Leo’s in there too.” Daniel offers, shoots GP his trademark grin before pressing two quick kisses to Max’s head.

“Be a good boy. Make good choices. I love you.” Daniel says, unaffected by Max squirming away from the kisses and pressing a final one to his nose for good measure.

“Short night, didn’t finish his breakfast. Good luck today. Sorry we’re late.” He adds before he’s rushing out the garage.

A mechanical failure before FP2 doesn’t help, especially when it means Max can’t partake in the session leaving him even more grumpy.

He’s stomping around in little socked feet, tight shoes already kicked off and discarded somewhere while he’s distracting the engineers. GP’s trying to keep an eye on him, while simultaneously getting as much data from their only other running car. He quickly realizes that’s not going to be working and excuses himself to go deal with Max.

“Let’s go.” GP says, startling Max as he puts a hand on his shoulder, earning himself a sour pout.

“Where?”

“To your room, we can have a bit of quiet time.”

The pouts sours even more. “No nap!”

GP suppresses a sigh, he’d specifically avoided the word nap even though he knows there’s nothing more Max would benefit from right now than said nap, however convincing the little of that would be more difficult.

“Come on,” GP says hand going from Max’s shoulder to his bicep to move him along so they can move the somewhat imminent tantrum somewhere more private. “Let’s go find Leo.”

Max tries to dig his heels in, but the socked feet leave little to no grip as GP’s pulling him out into the hallway, starts sputtering his protests while trying to pluck GP’s fingers off his arm, pinching GP’s hand. “No! No no no no.”

“Max,” GP warns, unfaltering in his pace but turning to look at Max briefly. “Stop that, please.”

Unfortunately, Max’s drivers room is locked, GP has a key for emergencies but taking his hand off of Max proves to be a mistake when the younger takes that opportunity to bolt.

“Max!” GP groans, unlocking the door before taking off after his little escape artist, once again helped by Max’s socked feet and a clearly regressed Max unable to navigate their slipperiness.

Max goes up and over his shoulder despite the protest that start up the second GP gets his hands on him and the engineer cringers inwardly at the scene that’s creating, making quick work of getting them into the private room, praying for semi sound proof walls.

The squirming boy over his shoulder gets put down in front of him and GP gently puts his hands on both of Max’s shoulders to keep him in place. “GP’s gonna give you two options. Either you sit your bum down on the couch or you’ll sit your bum down facing the wall if you need to calm down some more. Which one, buddy?”

“You can’t put my bum anywhere!” Max argues back, jaw set and square, defiance written over his face just like when he doesn’t get his way.

GP raises his eyebrows, unimpressed expression taking over his face as he watches Max’s expression change. Max calls it his “uh-oh face” which would be cute (it is) if it weren’t that GP’s uh oh face only comes out when Max is pushing his luck.

“Couch.” Max whines when GP’s expression doesn’t change and GP lets go of his shoulders so Max can stomp his way over to the couch.

GP takes a breath before he goes for the overstuffed backpack, barely getting the zipper open before he’s emptying its contents, eyes landing on a fruit pouch.

“Do you want a snack?” GP asks, holding out the pouch, watching Max reach out for it and feeling content he seems to have found something that isn’t answered with protest.

The contentment lasts mere seconds when Max takes a closer look at the pouch and throws it to the other side of the room. “Yuck.”

“Max Emilian.” GP scolds, getting back up and grabbing Max’s arm, getting the younger up and off the couch before marching him right up to the thrown pouch. “Pick that up.”

Max’s eyes are quickly filling with tears, reaching down to pick it back up and holding it out to GP as he bites back a sob.

“That’s a better decision, buddy.” GP soothes, taking the pouch from Max before walking him over to the discarded back, starting to pull Max’s arms out of the sleeves of the race suit Max still has on.

“Noooo.” That pulls the first sob from the younger, dejectedly allowing GP to move both of his arms out of the uncomfortable material.

GP knows Max knows this is the first step for nap time, but he needs to get through these steps as quickly as possible to be able to get the little guy some comfort.

“I know, bud.” GP soothes, pushing the suit down his hips and helping him step out of it. “That’s a good boy, look at you.”

Despite the praise it earns him another sob, and with the suit off of Max’s body GP reaches for the joggers Daniel’s packed, pulling out Leo with it and offering him to Max.

The plush gets snatched up and Max’s buries his wet face into it while GP gently lifts Max’s feet one at a time before pulling them up over his bum before snatching a blanket up and moving both him and Max over to the couch.

Luckily Max goes easier than before, GP cradling Max into his lap sideways while his legs curl up partially onto the couch, struggling for space as his thumb finds his mouth and he tries fitting himself and Leo into GP’s chest.

GP drapes the blanket over Max, wrapping his arms around him and gently shushing the audibly upset little, pressing a soft kiss to Max’s head. “That’s it. You’re ok. Where’s my good boy, hm?”

It’s a minute or two before Max’s breathing calms down and the tears lessen, exhaustion clear on his face when he looks up at GP. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” GP soothes, brushing at Max’s cheeks. “Thank you for apologizing. You’re ok.”

It lessens some left over tension in Max’s shoulders as he buries back into GP’s chest, the elder gently patting Max’s hair. “Nap doesn’t sound too bad now, does it?”

Max shakes his head, squeezing himself closer patting at GP’s chest. “Love.”

GP lets out a soft sigh, squeezing back. “Love you too.”

#littlef1adventures #lf1a.minific

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