#school never taught me what these shows have

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

[sugarandspisces-writes]

Coffee + Crosswords

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: It's Friday at Abbott and you spend a slow morning in the break room with Melissa and Janine.

Word Count: 3.3k

If you were to ask anyone at Abbott what their favorite day of the week was, they were guaranteed to say Friday. Unless you were to ask Barbara Howard. She would not hesitate to tell you that her favorite day was Sunday. Nonetheless, Friday was a day that everyone enjoyed because it meant the weekend was around the corner.

It was a day when things slowed down, and you could step away from the week's stressors and just breathe. Plus, if you were on top of things, you didn’t have to worry about grading papers or making lesson plans for a couple days. But you knew better than anyone that it didn’t always work out that way. Sometimes you still had work left to complete on the weekends no matter how productive you’d been at work.

The students also loved Fridays because learning for the week was done. The biggest task they had to accomplish was showing that they understood the material being taught. Your second graders loved the end of the week because they looked forward to taking their spelling tests. However, today was not about taking tests. The end of the first semester was approaching, and most teachers were counting down the days. It seemed like a lifetime away, and everyone was looking for a way to make the time go by faster. The strategy beloved by the kids, and their teachers if you were being honest, was to have a movie day. For you, there was something nostalgic about watching movies at school. It made you miss the days you were in your kids’ shoes.

It was around 10 o’clock, and you sat in the teacher’s lounge while your kids attended art class. Melissa was in the lounge with you since it was her free period, and you knew Janine was bound to show up at any moment since it was her break as well. You sat at the table near Melissa’s and talked about the events of your day. 

You’d been teaching alongside the woman for over a year, yet you struggled to find your footing around her. One moment she seemed to enjoy your company, and the next she didn’t pay you any mind. However, she was up for discussion today, and the content of your conversation surprised you. She was following up on an issue you’d brought to her attention a few weeks back.

“Did you ever get that stuff figured out with your student?” She pulled her eyes away from the TV and focused on you.

“Oh, um, kind of.” Truthfully the answer was no, but you'd been holding onto hope.

Parent-teacher conferences recently took place, and you spoke with the parents of a student who struggled with math. Despite the effort you’d put into gathering the evidence–worksheets, quizzes, and even standardized test scores–they didn’t believe their child was struggling. Since Melissa had gone through a similar situation, you asked for advice.

Her face scrunched in confusion at your uncertainty. “What's that s'posed to mean?”

“Well, they’re still not budging, so…” You shrugged before slumping into your chair.

“So, what?” Melissa’s shoulders copied your actions, though hers were more pronounced. Her jacket rustled with the movement, the silver hardware clanking against each other. “You just gonna give up?”

Immediately, your posture straightened at the insinuation of admitting defeat. “What? No, I never said that!”

She wasn’t fond of quitters, so your reaction rubbed her the wrong way. “You coulda fooled me.”

Everything you tried had seemingly failed, and as a new teacher, that was discouraging. You’d never give up on your students though, so you had to see it through. “I’m in the process of putting a plan together.”

“Did you get in touch with the math interventionist?” That was one of her recommendations, and she wanted to know if you followed through.

“Yes, and they’re gonna work with him during the summer. You know they have an outreach program for the kids, but it depends on his parents' compliance. They're not gonna let anyone work with him if they don't see an issue.” She nodded in understanding, prompting you to continue on. “If not, they told me they'd work with him at the beginning of next year so he wouldn't slip too far behind, but I’ll believe it when I see it.” Since the district was short-staffed, the schools had to share resources. It was extremely inconvenient, but you had to make do with what you had.

She was pleased that you took her advice and that she wasn't just flapping her gums for the hell of it. “At least that’s something. It shows they're trying, you know?” 

You sighed, upset at the fact that you were still at odds. “I guess, but I feel so bad. He’s having a really hard time, and he gets so frustrated with it. I’m afraid he’ll just give up. Especially since his parents aren’t on the same page.”

She agreed with the point you were making. “There's potential for that to occur, but it’s not a reflection of your teaching abilities.”

“It is though, isn’t it?” It was your responsibility to educate, so wouldn’t the blame rest on you?

“Not necessarily. We do what we can, but we aren’t always capable of filling in the gaps. Sometimes we have to recruit additional forces. It doesn’t make us failures 'cause we couldn’t do it on our own.”

You worked hard to ensure that your students were motivated to learn. If they ever lost their drive, you wouldn’t hesitate to help them regain it–even if it meant you had to spend time with them before or after school. Melissa’s words helped you realize that your setback didn’t stem from a lack of proficiency. “You’re right. It just sucks.”

“When have you known me to be wrong?” She smirked.

“Oh, whatever.” You rolled your eyes, still finding yourself laughing nonetheless.

“But seriously, it’s nothing you can’t handle. I know it’s tough, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”

You had no idea she noticed your teaching endeavors, though you should have known. She kept tabs on just about everyone and everything in your place of work. “Oh, wow. Uh, thanks.” You weren't sure what to say, not knowing if it was a compliment or simply an astute observation.

“Don’t thank me. Just keep doing what you’re doing. He’s lucky to have someone like you fighting for him.”

You smiled now, basking in the unmistakable praise. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”

“I’m gonna make another cup of coffee. You want some?” She stood from her seat, eyeing you as she awaited your answer. 

“Nah, I'm good.” You shook your head, remembering that it wasn’t even noon and you’d already indulged in a few.

You absentmindedly scrolled through your phone as she busied herself with brewing a fresh pot. There wasn’t much to look at, so you opened the newspaper before you. You flipped through the pages, skimming some of the articles, then landed on the crossword section.

You’d been into word games lately, mostly playing apps on your phone, but you'd take advantage of the physical version today. Until Janine joined you two this would occupy your time. By the time the coffee was done brewing, you’d finished most of the puzzle but found yourself stuck. 

“Blank Hurts, quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles.” You read it more times than you could count before releasing a huff. It was the last answer you needed to complete the puzzle, and it was putting you through the wringer.

Melissa came to retrieve her creamer from the fridge and caught a glimpse of what you were doing. She squinted to get a closer look at the small print before pulling her glasses over her eyes. As soon as she read it, the answer was clear. She could only chuckle while watching you struggle. You were a Philly native, so to her, it was amusing that you didn’t know the players on your home team. When your huffing and puffing continued, she couldn’t bear the sound any longer.

“Jalen.” She uttered from behind you, solving your short-lived distress.

You glanced over your shoulder and met with the sight of her—arms crossed over her chest, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and a grin tugging at her lips. 

“Huh?”

Her heeled boots thumped against the linoleum flooring as she came into your direct line of vision. It wasn’t long before she stood next to you, mere centimeters away.

When she spoke again, her manicured finger was pointed at your phone. “Jalen Hurts. That’s the answer.” 

You almost couldn’t process the words she spoke. Your senses were taken over by her amber perfume, the sweet, warm undertones paired well with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. After gaining enough resolve to write, you jot letters into the spaces. 

She retreated to the other side of the room before you could say anything else, but quickly returned with a surprise. She slid a steaming cup of coffee across the table, propelled by a gentle hand. “You’ve got to be the only person who doesn’t know who that is.”

You frowned, but it was impossible to argue with her. Football was the least interesting sport in your opinion. Mainly because you didn’t understand a thing that was going on. “We can’t all be connoisseurs like you.”

“It’s common knowledge, hon.”

“Okay, Vince Lombardi,” you teased, referring to the woman as one of the NFL greats. That much you knew. “Thanks for the answer–and the coffee.”

“You owe me, big time,” she joked. “I made it how I like mine. If you think it’s gross feel free to toss it.”

“Are you crazy? I’d never waste a cup of caffeine.” Especially one you made for me, you wanted to add, but didn't thanks to your better judgment.

You sipped the warm beverage as you thought about your little interaction. It took a minute or two for your brain to reset to its previous level of performance. The organ worked double time to get her out of your head, but she managed to make a lasting image.

She was a woman of details, always so well put together. The all-black outfit paired with her array of gold jewelry was a classy, yet powerful choice. Her makeup was done perfectly, and her green eyes were adorned with the sharpest winged liner you'd ever seen. Striking red hair followed suit, strands curled neatly with color-coordinated cat-eye frames resting atop her head, giving the impression of an effortless blowout. She had a certain je ne sais quoi about her that intrigued you to no end.

You glanced over your shoulder once you heard the door swinging open. Janine walked in and smiled as she saw you and Melissa. She waltzed over to the table and her skirt flowed graciously behind her with the movement. 

“Hi, guys!” She greeted the two of you. “Guess who caught up on all their grading?”

You exchanged hellos and excitement for the teacher as she made her way to the fridge. When she rounded the table with her snack, she stood firmly beside you and playfully nudged your shoulder.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked as she began to eat.

“Nothing much,” you sighed, “I just finished this crossword.”

“Oh, you did the one on the paper! I always did that as a kid.” She shared, smiling at the memory. She knew you were on a crossword kick recently and that you completed multiple every day.

“There was a clue on there about football, which I know nothing about.”

“That makes both of us.” She laughed before sitting in the seat next to you. “I may know a little more than you, though. At least I know what the players look like.” 

“I know what some of them look like!” And by some, you meant none, but Janine already knew that. “Melissa helped me though.” You nod your head toward the woman's direction.

Janine looked at you with a glint taking over her eye that only you could read. You knew she was making a mental note to ask about the interaction later when it was just you and her.

“Oh! Melissa.” Janine smiled as she said her name, elongating the ending. “Are you ready for game night?”

Janine had planned a bonding activity for the teachers, like she did occasionally, in hopes that it would help everyone destress from their busy schedules.

“I’m ready to kick all your butts. Again.” Melissa was undefeated in a few games and took pride in that.

“Someone’s cocky,” Janine glanced at you.

“Nuh uh,” she waved her finger around. “It’s called confidence. Maybe if youse had more of it, you’d be able to beat me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t play to win,” Janine stated with a satisfied smile. She always claimed that she was only there to have a good time, which in return received an eye roll from everyone.

“Yeah, that’s what all the losers say.” She moved her hand in a circle to emphasize the word ‘all’. She then stood up and pushed her chair underneath the table. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go find a movie for my kids to watch.”

As soon as she heard the door close, Janine turned to look at it for confirmation that Melissa was out of earshot. “So, Melissa helped you with your crossword, huh?”

“Oh my gosh, Janine.” You chuckled at her insinuation, noting the toothy smile she displayed. She had an inkling that Melissa liked you, but that was an overstatement.

“What?” She looked at you quizzically, though she knew exactly what you were trying to say.

“Yeah, so?” You shrugged nonchalantly, keeping eye contact with her. “She also gave me some more advice regarding the situation with my student.”

A look of "I told you so" crossed the woman's face. “Didn't I say it'd be a good idea to ask her? You should listen to me more often.”

“And she may or may not have made coffee for me.” You casually brought the mug to your lips, eyes closing at the pleasant taste. By some supernatural powers, she had made school coffee enjoyable.

The teacher gasped and her hand clutched your arm, startling you a bit. “Really? Oh my gosh!”

“Janine, please,” you pulled your arm from her grip. “You’re acting like a child.”

“Oh, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “You know you love it.”

Though you tried to stave off your giddy expression, you cracked. “Must you have to read into everything?”

“Only the things that matter. Like how you're drinking out of her favorite mug.” She pointed at the cup, noting the teal and black ombré design.

“Now you're just making stuff up.”

“Are you kidding me? You cannot be this oblivious!” There was no way she was reading too deep into things.

“It's not oblivion. I'm just being logical.”

“How far has that gotten you?” A hand popped over her hip as she quirked an eyebrow toward you.

“Oh, hush.” You pouted.

During your time at Abbott, you and Janine developed a special relationship. You were a first-year teacher and Janine was in her second year, so you bonded over being new to the field. Teaching was hard for you to navigate in the very beginning. While Janine was still fairly new to teaching, she had learned a lot and grown tremendously in her first year. She was very resourceful and she shared a lot of her tips and tricks with you. Whenever you felt your insecurities getting the best of you, she would always be there to pick you up. 

Because the two of you had become so close, she knew how you felt about Melissa. Janine was very attentive, and you couldn’t get anything past her. She could tell that being around Melissa made you nervous. It wasn’t because you were intimidated by her—you had gotten over that feeling within the first few months of working with her. You were drawn to her tough nature and how the energy shifted when she walked into a room. She was intelligent and had a great personality once you broke through her icy exterior. 

Since the beginning of the year, all you wanted was to impress her, but every time you tried, you just embarrassed yourself. For a while, you weren’t sure why you cared so much. You didn’t know why what she thought mattered until you came to a conclusion halfway through the school year. It all mattered because you liked her. It was a strange thing to come to terms with, but you decided to let the feelings run their course. There was no harm in that, right?

“She's just in a good mood today. I’m 99% sure she sees me as the kid that teaches the same grade as her.”

“That’s not true,” Janine assured you, but she knew how Melissa could be. The woman had to warm up to you before she showed her true colors.

“It is and you know it.” You said affirmatively.

“She’ll come around.” She spoke as if she knew something you didn't.

You looked at her with doubtful eyes and you could see her facial expression change as she thought of an idea. Uh oh.

“I could put you and her on the same team tonight,” Janine said in a sing-songy voice. “Name a better way to get her to warm up to you.” She waited for you to answer, but you were heavily against this. Janine was the proud organizer of game night, which meant she was in charge of making the teams. 

“I could actually think of several, much better ways.” You enlightened her. “She would eat me alive if we lost.” You were not competitive, and you knew winning was important to Melissa.

“Oh, come on, Y/N!” Janine practically whined. “It’ll be fine.”

“No.” You said firmly, standing from your chair as you noticed the time. You had to retrieve your kids from the art teacher in five minutes. Janine followed your lead and walked out of the lounge trailing behind you. You couldn’t even see her and you knew that she was sulking.

“Quit doing that.” You laughed, looking in the direction of the shorter woman. “It’s not gonna make me say 'yes'.”

“But–” She started but was cut off within seconds.

You whipped around to face her. “Remember what happened at the last game night? When you made her draw eight cards during Uno?”

Janine didn't answer though she knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Don't worry, I’ll refresh your memory. She ended up losing and didn’t speak to you for weeks. Weeks! I can't risk that.”

Janine ended up getting the victory and despite that, it was not a good night for her. “It’s fine, now.” Granted, she wasn't sure if it was, but it seemed like it.

“No. I refuse to let her give me the cold shoulder because of you.” It wasn't even about the crush at this point. You worked closely with her and wanted nothing to compromise that. Besides, she could hold a grudge like her life depended on it.

“Fine, I won’t do it.” Janine relented, though it seriously pained her. She believed wholeheartedly that she could shift the dynamic between you and Melissa.

Though she was defeated, something told you she wasn’t letting go. “Thank you,” you said before heading in the opposite direction to pick up your class.

 “But let me know if you change your mind!” She added as you walked away.

That statement alone made you less confident in her ability to leave it alone. Though she meant no harm, she was hopeless. You knew she'd be fighting tooth and nail not to go against her word. Of course, she wanted to honor your wishes, but once she was set on a plan there was no going back.

Sure, Fridays were a fan favorite, but something told you this one would be the death of you.

A/N: Hello, Hello! This is just a little something to start your week off right. It's been sitting in my drafts for a while and I wanted to get it out. Also, part two of Kiss It Better is on the way! Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #sugarᥫ᭡writes

[hand-face-chan]

I'm only halfway though Hbomberguy's new video and I dont know if this is a universal experience but my main horrified takeaway from hbomb's plagiarism video so far is that one of my highschools TAUGHT AN ENTIRE CLASS OF 13 YEAR OLDS TO PLAGIARISE. LIKE, ON PURPOSE.

I ended up moving to a much better highschool, but my first highschool essentially taught us to "write" essays by reading what someone else had written and then write what they said again but putting it "into your own words". Which in practice was teaching us to change, for example, "the works of Shakespeare were regarded by many as the first popular art form" to "Shakespeare's plays have been said by some to be the first example of popular media". One teacher actually told us that the process of writing an essay was "saying what the people you've researched have said, in a way where it sounds like you said it".

Like. The tactics that actual plagiarists use to hide the fact that they were stealing. An actual teacher tried to teach me to do that.

#hbomberguy #im so glad i left that school early the next year. it definitely would have gotten worse. #i literally didnt learn what a bibliography was until grade 9 because of how shit my first highschool was. #at the same time if a student wrote a paper that was 'too good' even if it was orginal theyd accuse them of stealing without proof #like i wrote a completely original paper and got the note 'this is very good - did you write it all yourself?' #fuck you man. yes i did. despite you trying to teach me to do the opposite #they accused me of getting my parents to write it for me. i had to show them everything i researched and my dad lost it at them #this was also the same school where they took every kid with a disability out of maths regardless of if they were good at maths or not #and taught them shapes like they were fucking three years old #i remember hanging out in the maths with all the other autistic kids and prentending to have never seen a triangle before for a joke #and while thats really bad and abelist. the non-disabled kids were still being taught addition and division like they were 8 and not 12 #the whole thing was a massive fuck up shit fest. it took the year 7 maths teacher leaving for us to all get the same maths class #and we STILL werent being taught to an age appropriate level because we missed so much grade 7 maths it had to be caught up in grade 8 #i would burn it down but its not a highschool anymore lol

[deus-ex-mona]

me when the bacteria c o l o n i s e s

#m a n. i thought that the sample would turn out negative for bacteria (like the rest have been for the past. what. year and a quarter(?)) #esp since the agar testing stick things used were freshly expired (thanks for the expired reagents workplace; cost cutting ftw!!!!) #but. ewwwwwwwwwwww it actually grewwwwwwwwwwww #and the small stick thing was covered from like top to bottom in countless dark red colonies. ewwwwwwwwww #all ​the other agar stick things were completely clean though so it was def a problem with the sample and not with my handling of the agar #in any case!!!!!!! it was the first time i saw a positive for bacteria growth on a sample and!!!! #it was also my first time reporting the results for this test!!!! without any of the test-familiar staff around!!! so!!!!! not fun!!!!!!!! #i didn’t even k n o w what they meant when they asked to ‘describe the colour/appearance of the colonies’ bc the managers’ expectations are. #just. *weird*. sometimes. ughhhhhh im ready for the inevitable groupchat callout on tuesday with ‘who taught you to report like this????’s #well e x c u s e me for not knowing sir you never taught me how to report colony growths or anything auauaaaaaaaaaa #but is ok!!!!!! i’m taking tuesday off anyway!!!! it’ll be the tuesday workers’ problem now!!!!!!!! good luck guys!!!!!!! #at least there was no fungi either… now *that* would’ve been extra gross #the bio class flashbacks were r e a l today… thank god i don’t ever have to open that stupid pharmacopoeia ever again #also reminds me of (one of) my stupidest moments in a bio class though… #back in the days of yore (read: anatomy class in the year of ‘17) i was an absolutely horrible student who’d never fail to nap in class #so when my lecturer asked connecting questions down the class register… #yk stuff like asking student 1 to ‘name a type of cell’ and then asking student 2 to ‘name an organelle that a [student 1’s cell] contains’ #he asked the girl before me to name a hormone. she answered ‘growth hormone’. and i was like. dammit. idk where it’s found. lolhelp. #(bc i never read ahead either + the growth hormone didn’t even show up in lessons during that school term) #so when he inevitably asked me to ‘name the organ that produces the growth hormone’ i answered (exact quote) ‘i don’t know; the ovaries????’ #the class laughed. sad. the lecturer retorted with sth like ‘then are you saying that boys can’t grow?’ and i just shrugged #the girl after me (who incidentally has the same first+last name as me phonetically speaking) gave him the right answer thoughhhh #i hope i managed to buy my name twin enough time to look up the correct answer (if she didn’t already know it) with my stupid guess #yeahhhhhh ​i do n o t miss bio class. at all. giggity #anyways that’s enough flashback sequences for one year. can’t believe the next year’s less than 10 days away tbh. can’t wait!!!!!!!!

[sanstropfremir]

also what you said abt shinee not having consistent personas until their solos started bc their concept were always changing, i can tell it was frustrating for them in the beginning to feel like they didn't have their own creative voice but i feel like it was beneficial bc it gave them breathing room to figure it out. and i will always respect the members for always giving 110% to everything they do, you'll never find out that they didn't like or even understand a concept until much later lol

yes!! it's extremely beneficial to have someone tell you what to do when you're younger, because it forces an opposition that helps you form a creative identity. at the worst it teaches you what you don't want to be, and at the best you learn invaluable skills in how you interact with your career. i suspect that if you were to ask all of them now, they would probably say that having little creative control when they were younger was the better choice and was directly beneficial to all of their solo pursuits. also see my previously made points about how some people just don't have the capacity to take creative lead and there are indeed people whose job it is to specifically do that. it is a skill you have to build up and it takes time.

#kpop questions #shinee w #it always feels frustrating when you're young and dumb (which they were) but that experience shapes you #i started doing theatre when i was 14 i think and you have no control over anything #even on my first professional show when i was 18 and i had little control over what was going and it was a horrid experience #but it taught me so much about how i wanted to work when i did have creative control #also i got some really batshit crazy stories out of it lmao #like piss drinking story i still cannot believe that happened on my first show #text #answers #also in terms of shinee not having a consistent identity #i think it only took a couple of years for them to form a group one. which is normal for rookies anyways #like by sherlock they were already 'shinee'. sometimes inconsistency IS consistency #also them not saying whether or not they like concepts; that's just professionalism and proper work etiquette #they drilled that shit into me in school you NEVER publicly badmouth ANYTHING you work on #that stays in private circles only and if there's like a real problem it's kept to industry circles to keep people safe

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

#nosebleed club #sorry stephen not ur fault #just like. thinking #writeblr #spilled ink #warm up #every time nat is like - oh let me get that for u #im like .... this is a trick right like ur gonna be mean now bc u did something nice rn #so obviously if ur being nice now either u did something mean and im about to learn about it #or you're going to BE mean #or ur gonna hold this over my head forever and i'll never get a nice thing ever again? #and every time nat is like .... babe i just actually like u #lesbian jesus story is 100% real btw. she also told me not to be an event planner #literally changed the shape of my life

[nope-body]

.

#feel like how I did in high school senior year #running on empty but somehow still running with no plans to stop any time soon #which I know is unhealthy #but also if I’m not doing everything I can then what worth do I have? #if I could be doing something and I’m not #what’s the point of doing anything in the first place #if I can’t do everything and do it well then I’m worthless #and I *know* that this is black and white thinking #and I know that it’s because I never got praise for being anything less than work-myself-to-the-bone burn-out extraordinary #my parents weren’t proud of me just for doing something #I designed and ran lights for four different shows in high school and they didn’t even go to any #I was the tech director for a show! did they go? nope #I built sets and painted and fixed problems and taught new techies and it was never enough #I did the entirety of tech for so many rentals- some of them not just lights but also sound and for a few even assistant directing #I hung focused and programmed lights for a performance in under an hour and a half #it was never enough #I started a club! on my own! held a wildly successful fundraiser and collaborated with other clubs and went on a field trip #and ensured its success after I left and it has since flourished! #I made it to finals at regionals on speech team which almost no one does on our team! #and maybe there was a good job thrown in there or something but overall it was just #I could have done more. been better #and I don’t even know who I’m trying to prove my worth to at this point! #yeah maybe I want my parents to be proud of me but honestly I couldn’t give a fuck about what they say because that ship has sailed #i know my friends are friends with me because of who I am and not how much I do #I know that I’m just a freshman and that a lot of people don’t even know their major yet much less are actively working towards it and #deeply involved in the department #I don’t know. I just feel the threat of failure looming over me #and I don’t even know what I’d be failing at and I think that scares me most of all #I feel like ​I have to be perfect #which is ironic when I’m in a body that is so imperfect and failing me

[devourable]

⚘ the boys next door

sfwish, mdni | tags ; poly!male yanderes x gn reader (no prns used but 'you'), manipulation, yan behavior, slight fetishization of virginity

originally this was just gonna be one character so thank mazzy for convincing me to make him a poly duo instead lmfao. ik i have things to finish but like,,, boys 🫶

not too proud of this one so ill probs revise it or make a part two at a l8r time when im feeling less rusty

the boys next door were the two that everyone knew of as a pair.

sebastian and tobias grew up together, learned together, played together, and shared absolutely everything practically since they were born. they were what people thought of when the words 'best friends' came to mind.

nothing could or would ever come between the two boys, everyone said.

so it was no shock that when you came in and quite literally got between them — by virtue of moving into the vacancies that separated their homes — their instant mutual attraction to you would do nothing but strengthen the bond between them.

it was odd. any additions to their relationship was unheard of, but...

the boys next door shared everything. you didn't think that'd exclude you, did you?

toby and sebastian were quick to befriend you when you entered their life. you were around their age, practically the only other child in the area at that; but unlike the children at school who they'd turn away from in favor of each other, they readily made you part of their dynamic.

they didn't quite understand the feelings you gave them at first, they were too young to. all they really knew is that they liked being around you, they liked talking about you, and they wanted you to themselves.

when you were young, everything became about you. their favorite games involved them being your loyal knights, or bodyguards, or any other role that involved protecting you from whatever threat their little minds could imagine up.

and when you grew tired of playing the damsel in distress? they were fine with it. whatever you wanted from them, you got. sebastian's gaming console was practically yours with how much he pushed you to play on it. toby would beg his parents to get him any toy he'd seen you show interest in; and he'd always eventually get them for you.

they didn't want you to ever be bored around them. you'd always have a good time on their watch, and they spoiled you relentlessly to the best of their abilities.

you were theirs, now! and you took care of what was yours, no matter what. that's what both of them were taught.

they grew up with you. learned with you. played with you, and of course, they shared you — even as the three of you grew up.

everyone around you saw how much they adored you, too. when asked, the two boys would proclaim how they'd both marry you in the future. it was so cute! no one saw an issue with how they always took up as much time and attention as they could from you. or how you never really seemed to be able to make friends with other kids at your school...

you had your best friends, so it didn't matter. they were all you needed.

the pair grew to love their constant close proximity to you. it ensured that they'd know what was going on in your life at all times as you grew and developed. when you weren't all hanging out together, it wouldn't be unusual for the pair to simply watch your home from their windows, glimpsing into your windows to watch you go about your life.

you were turning into a fine young adult. but you still needed their protection! they both easily surpassed you in size as you all grew up — sebastian in particular, who's height was staggering compared to both you and toby. he liked the edge it gave him, and how intimidating he could be when needed. tobias didn't have that advantage, but everyone liked him enough to respect you as his territory anyway. you were so small and sweet, what if someone saw you the way they did? they couldn't have that, they had no choice but to keep you to themselves.

it felt like you always had at least one of the two at your side at all times. so much so that it felt odd when you were without either of them. sebastian and toby being by your side was as natural as breathing and you grew to never really question their behavior.

they were just making sure you were okay when they insisted on keeping you company when you were home alone. when toby took your first kiss, it was because it only made sense — it should go to someone you trust and care about, right? and when you told the two that you were still a virgin well into adulthood (which they knew, of course), they insisted on being your first.

they knew you better than anyone, they'd know how to make you feel good. and who better to give your virginity to than your best friends?

getting to claim your body, inside and out, was one of the best moments of their lives. no one would ever get to have you the way they did.

no matter what you'd do, where you'd go, you'd always be effected by them in some way — and that's exactly how they wanted it. they'd always be your first best friends, your first boyfriends, your first everything. and you'd always be theirs.

the boys next door would always be entangled in your life. but you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?

they know you better than anyone, after all.

#🍀 the neighbors #sebastian lee #tobias lovell #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere boy #yandere boys #poly yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere fic #yandere x oc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines

[ririblogsss]

what if Danny give no fu-ks

Ok hear me out, Dannys obsession has never truest been confirmed by the show itself (that I remember) I've seen a lot of people say his obsession comes from wanting to help / protect people. But what if he feels as though that he is now doing more damage than good, after all there are a lot of people getting hurt as colateral damage from the chases he has to go on. Or simply when he has to run away from getting captured.

What if one night he was up late and saw a post about a tragedy that happened because he slipped up (it wasn't even his fault, but he still blames himself for everything). And then he starts looking at all the bad comments against him ignoring all the good ones saying how much Danny Phantom has helped Amity. Because Danny is still human and confirmation bias is real. Imagine how he felt the moment he realized that he was causing people to get hurt instead of keeping them save.

Image the desperation clawing at him with the realization that he has never been able to fully manage his obsession. it makes him sad, desperate, angry.

His entire self is filled with too many emotions at the sametime he isn't even able to identify them and catalogue them properly like Jazz taught him.

and then everything stops and he feels nothing.

Completely and utterly numb.

Like his whole reason to keep going suddenly disappears.

And it has.

He gave up on his obsession and now he has to make / get a new one.

But it's not that easy.

This drastic change could've ended any ghost as they run on (live off) emotions.

Luckily because he's a Halfa, so that has given him the upper hand. Unfortunately it makes it so that he is completely devoid of any emotion.

Months go by and people immediately notice changes, the more drastic one is that Phantom went missing, and eventually a lot of ghost that where coming in looking for him stop. Amity Park is no longer populated by ghosts, and slowly the GIW started to retreat from Amity going to another place following a lead that says there are more ghost activities up north.

But those changes aren't the only ones noticeable. Dannys classmates and teachers can vouch that Danny has changed. Most say he was always quite , and others say he looked down right depressed. Danny didn't do much in classes not that he paid attention before. Its just this time it seems that its not out of being sleepy or anxious about another ghost attacking the school instead Danny looks like he coundn't give less of a fu-k about anything.

He never smiles anymore not even when his favorite subjects (mechanics and space) are brought up. Not even a quirk of a smile. The school decided to contact his parents about Dannys new behaviors. That includes skipping classes, not handing in work, not doing the assigned work in class ect....

And its not like his parents havent noticed, they've had more time in their hands since they aren't using hours of the day/night going out hunting anymore. and they have witnessed their son become a shell of himself. They don't know what to do, and they don't want to worry Jazz about it because she's at collage and needs to focus on her studies.

So when the school contact them and told them that the behavior is the same in school they decided major changes needed to happen. Starting with a change of environment.

Maddie and Jack decided that Amity park was too big of a city with too many people. They could nearly see the stars at night because of the light pollution, hence they decided to move next door to Alicia, Maddie sister, home in SmallVille.

They decided it was the best choice, Danny would be surrounded by nature and he could do online classes that would go the pace he wanted. The move was immediate, the day off they packed everything sold the house and moved.

They only stopped to say goodbye to Danny's friends. A small bye and hug later they were on a 7 hour road trip to their new home.

When they got there the old resident handed them the keys of the home and told them to ignore the their neighbors 'The Kents' as they often made a lot of noice and had group gatherings every month.

The one thing Jack and Maddie forgot to double check was if the house was an actual house or a farm house. Sounds similar, but completely different as they now had 2 cows, 16 chickens, 1 rooster, and 3 pigs to take care off.

Danny was put on duty of taking care of the animals, such as feeding them on time and making sure they were healthy. Jack and Maddie made more of the heavy weight as to re building broken fences and fixing the questionable roof.

(The first thing Danny did when meeting all the animals was name them. After all this was about all the interaction he was going to do.)

Danny didn't have time to think about his lost obsession or his lack of emotions as he was now too busy making sure each animal was taken care off.

Marcy and linda (the cows) were danny's favorite they were very gentle and he felt that they could understand him when he spoke to them the stories of his vigilante past.

On the other hand The Chickens were a nightmare, Glinda was cool as she never chased him down. But Matilda and Bethany were a nightmarish duo spiteful too when he was seconds late to the finding time. Mark the rooster was chill he mainly acted as of he was part of the group that needed protection.

Marice, Betty, and Miss Piggy were the chillest of the bunch never gave Danny any trouble when feeding them and always made a point that they loved their new mudbath installation that Danny made for them on his first 2 days on the farm.

A month after arriving at the farm house Danny noticed that mark was missing. Danny looked everywhere around the property and saw him from afar, at the road. So Danny did the sensible thing anyone would do when spotting a run away pet, and that is call their name at the top of your lungs whilst running after them.

naturally Mark the escape artist run the opposite direction. By the time Danny caught up to him Danny didn't recognize the house he was infant off. So with Mark comfortably in his arms He swears he can see a smug look on marks face. Danny turned away from the house to start his walk back to the farm, but he was met with a kid his age looking at him with distrust.

"Ehhh look kid Im sorry to have crossed the properties border but Mark here" Danny made a point to acentuate Mark in his arms "Runaway from me this morning and I've been trying to catch him ever since, anyways I need to go feed the girls"

The kid starred at him for a second "OMG your from the new family in Mr.duncans farm right? in Aver ST.?" and wow the kid was like a ray of sunshine.

"Yea-" Danny could even finish his sentence before the kid cut him off by starting to talk a mile a minute about how he was so exited to meet people his age that lived near by and how farm chores were harder that normal house chores.

"Jon, give him time to respond. Im Damian this is Jon" Danny jumped he hadn't noticed the second kid at all

"Oh yeah... sorry about that what's your name?" The kid (Jon) slightly less enthusiasm, a bit embarrassed if his tone of voice was anything to get by.

"Danny, Im 15" he responded before he started walking away after all he did need to get in time to feed the chickens unless he wants to suffer their furry. Danny shuddered at the memory that popped up in his head.

"Wait!!! I just thought we could be friends cause we live close by u know" Jon said catching up with Dannys steps. Damian was following from behind.

"Sure kid I don't care" Dannys voice was monotone much like it had been for months.

"Hey were not kids for your information, Im 14 and Damians 16 soon to be 17, so if anything you night be the actual kid!" Danny chuckled slightly it was more similar to releasing air from his lips than a laugh.

Soon a quite and enjoyable science encompassed the group as they went to Dannys home.

"Hmm... you're hold on Mark is adequate and the your determination for getting home in time for feeding is acceptable" Damian spoke up after a while of the passive silence.

"yeah and what is It to you" Danny was slightly urked by Damians default setting speach. He told him as such.

Jon blanched before erupting into giggles that sent him to lay down on the grass uncontrollably laughing. Damians right eyebrow quirked up in what Danny assumed was amusement.

Thus a new friendship grew that day.

They often gathered at Dannys or Jons yard to have picnic in the weekends (as Damian and Jon has school in Metropolis on week days) and hangout with the animals. Danny found out that Damian was a vegetarian and that he had various animals at home. One time he brought his Great Dane Titus, who bodied Danny on sight to give him kisses.

Also Damian was Damian Wayne as in bruce Wayne, Batman sugar daddy. When he said that, Jons milk flew out of his nose and Damian choked on his cucumber wrap. Even Titus gave him a judgemental stare.

Slowly Danny started to smile more, laugh every so often. And things were feeling so much better after not being able to feel anything for a while.

Jazz, Aunt Alicia and especially Maddie and Jack felt so relived to see that Danny was slowly coming back to them.

Danny to this day backs the fact that Mark knew something and planned the whole thing.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #mark the chicken is definitely a meta with super intelligence

[caesium-55]

—seven days [ epilogue ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

warnings: mentions of death and suicide.

author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.

He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.

Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.

Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.

“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.

Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.

Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.

“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.

If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?

Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.

(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)

Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.

You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.

leo: so so sad that u have to go

you: id be flattered if u actually mean it

leo: *rolling eyes emoji*

leo: i hope you choke on your beer

you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne

you: and i dont drink and drive

leo: good to know ur not stupid

leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely

you: aight aight

leo: u know i have something to confess

you: if it's something stupid, don't bother

leo: ur stupid

you: fuck u

leo: shut up

leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention

leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams

leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u

you: that's stupid

you: max isn't like that

leo: hes in love with u

Your heart stutters. You ignore it.

you: liar

leo: i could tell u lil shit

leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge

you: he does hold grudges

leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?

leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him

You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.

leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?

leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most

you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise

You're a fucking coward. A pussy.

leo: you didn't see the man [name]

leo: you don't know how empty he looks now

A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.

The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.

Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.

Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.

Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.

You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—

Fuck.

“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.

Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.

Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.

The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.

The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.

The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?

The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.

You refuse to fall.

You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.

Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.

You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.

It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—

“Max.”

He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.

“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.

“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”

“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.

“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”

“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”

“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”

“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.

“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”

His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.

“Max—”

“I called, [Name].”

You freeze.

“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”

You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”

A pause.

“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,

“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?

FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?

MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?

MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.

God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.

“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”

You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.

When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.

“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”

Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.

“Breathe.”

You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.

“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”

You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.

Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.

“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.

Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.

“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”

He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.

“No.”

If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.

You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.

“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”

“No—”

“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”

You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”

You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.

Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.

You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.

“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.

“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.

“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.

You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.

Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.

You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.

“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”

“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”

“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”

You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.

max: i heard you came

max: where are you

max: please

max: can you give me ten minutes

max: just

max: please

max: wait for me

max: i’m not angry anymore

max: im begging you

max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five

max: or even less

max: i just need to see you

“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.

“Leo called me and told me you were here.”

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.

“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.

You nod.

“My grandparents’ place.”

He nods.

“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”

You sigh. God, you want to cry.

It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.

(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)

“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.

“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.

You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”

You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.

“How are you?”

You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.

“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.

You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.

Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.

“How have you been after Julio?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”

You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.

Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.

When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”

“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”

You chuckle humorlessly.

Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?

It feels like the roles are reversed now.

“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”

“What happened to your dream? The job?”

“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”

“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”

“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”

“But—”

“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”

You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.

“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”

You smile fondly at the memory.

“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”

You pause.

“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”

Max stares at you sadly.

“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”

You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.

“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.

“So soon?”

Max is panicking again.

“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.

“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.

“Dunno really,” you shrug.

“Can you wait for me?”

Your brows furrow.

“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”

The world stops.

“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”

“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”

This man is just…

You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.

“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”

You purse your lips.

“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”

“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”

He really did change.

“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.

Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.

“See you around?"

“See you around.”

You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.

At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.

The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.

Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."

Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #fanfic #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Sunshine

Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite

monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc

A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur

. so

. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter

. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart

. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being

. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house

. the rest of the leclercs know this

. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005

. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl

. now at first

. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this

. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere

. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?

. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first

. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later

. he knew he’d love you no matter what

. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are

. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed

. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted

. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you

. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races

. something that didn’t happen until you were 3

. shows you off to all of his friends at said races

. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”

. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”

. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life

. first day of school

. the first time you drove a kart

. when you learned how to ride a bike

. etcetera

. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything

. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you

. because no matter how busy he gets

. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself

. finding your own personality and hobbies

. interests and dislikes

. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old

. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless

. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi

. your older brother loves when you come with him to races

. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him

. because he knows you love jules

. he’s like another brother to you

. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)

. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with

. the one that taught you everything you know about cars

. the one that taught you to always dream for more

. the one that taught you what grief felt like

. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock

. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened

. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”

. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most

. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’

. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours

. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships

. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household

. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016

. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere

. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside

. it almost gives him hope

. almost

. because by 2017, charles is nervous

. because herve is getting worse

. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid

. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better

. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him

. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do

. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital

. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things

. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth

. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017

. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again

. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this

. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision

. this time, you don’t let anybody help you

. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat

. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood

. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that

. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night

. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless

. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself

. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk

. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him

. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms

. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time

. but charles is there for every step of the way

. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in

. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles

. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are

. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level

. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl

. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match

. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives

. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to

. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now

. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father

. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars

. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him

. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage

. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you

. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes

. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have

. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will

. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend

. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays

. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb

. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life

. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage

. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to

. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years

. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue

. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career

. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up

. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands

. you assure him that you will though

. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not

. you’ll always be rooting for him

. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too

. because you’re his little sister

. and he loves you more than you know

#reader insert #formula 1 #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #older brother charles leclerc #sibling fic #leclerc!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x sister!reader

[pixiesfz]

mother’s day s.c x child!reader

apart of sunshine series

plot: you first call Steph mum on Mother’s Day

warning: fluff

Some of the girls still wondered as to why you hadn’t called Steph your mum yet, it had now been almost a year since your adoption and yet you still called her “Steph” or “Stephy”.

But you called her teammates your aunties, not Kyra though she had come around so often that you thought of her as a sister, she reminded you of Lara before she was stuck to her bed in the hospital room.

You had never really thought of labelling Steph as your mother, she was always just Stephy to you and that’s what she was to Lara.

You were still trying to adjust to the fact that she was gone.

Kyra somehow was allowed to babysit you one night as Steph was out on a ‘date’ but you didn’t really know what that meant so you shrugged it off.

You and Kyra were eating spaghetti Steph pre-made before the older girl opened her mouth.

“You know sunshine, Mother’s Day is coming up” she told you and you looked up to the girl who was looking hesitant “Mother’s Day was earlier in the year Kywa”

She shook her head “Well Stephy’s Australian so we celebrate on a different date” she explained and you looked down.

“Is that like a birthday?” You ask and the 22 year old laughed “no it’s a day where we celebrate our mums and what they do for us kids” she explained

You furrowed your eyebrows “The boys at my school say Steph isn’t my mum because she didn’t push me out of her belly” you say, crossing your arms as Kyra gasped

“A mum doesn’t have to the one who gives birth to you, a mum can be someone you trust completely and looks after you”

“Steph does that” you pointed out “yes she does” Kyra smiled before you went back to your spaghetti, thinking.

Kyra flinched when you jumped on your chair

“We should make Stephy a present!”

Kyra raised her brows at your eagerness but nodded anyways “I agree!”

You told Kyra your idea before going to bed with a smile, having to do a few laps around the house before you grew tired, a trick Harper taught you at camp.

When Steph arrived and saw you sleeping in your bed with Kyra asleep on a blanket and cushion next to you she laughed softly and took a picture.

It was at training the next day that you ran to Kyra who had an extra bag to bring and a “foot injury” she had to check out.

“You two are glued to the hip now” Steph pouted when you excitedly ran to the girl “She’s my sister!” You cheered and Alessia smirked “sunshine?, if she’s your sister then what is Steph?”

You furrowed your brows “Steph is my Stephy” you explained like it was the simplest answer before running away, bringing a ‘limping’ Kyra with you.

“You don’t need to try, Less she’s never had a mum she doesn’t really know the understanding of it all, I won’t force her to call me that” Steph said to her friend who meant the best.

Whilst it seemed a little darker on the field you and Kyra were giggling and doodling posters that you were making for Steph.

Today was Australian Mother’s Day and you wanted to make it special.

Steph was your mum, you realised that now.

“What does yours say?” Kyra asked and you showed her your very glittery sign that read ‘luv you mummy’

“What does yours say?” You ask and Kyra excitedly turned hers around that said ‘not just a team mum’.

“What does that mean?” You ask and she crossed her head “you’ll find out later in life”

Kyra finally brought out your last request which was a charm bracelet with the initials of yours and Lara’s names.

“Why’d you choose this?” Kyra asked and you smiled “because Scarlett at schools mum has a necklace just like it, she showed me it was cool” you smiled and Kyra nodded.

When training came to an end the two of you found yourselves quickly cleaning up your stations before running to the change rooms where you both posed with your posters as the girls came in.

Small gasps and ‘aw’s’ were heard before finally Steph walked in.

Your smile dropped as tears took over her face.

“Mummy don’t cry!” You yelled but it only made it worse as she let out a sob.

“Mummy!” You yelled out, giving your poster to Kyra who was smiling proudly before running over to Steph.

“Oh sunshine” she smiled before bringing you into a big hug

“Happy Mother’s Day Steph” Kyra yelled from her spot, grabbing the present with the bracelet inside and walking over, passing it to her.

“Thank-thankyou Kyra” she told her with a now blotchy face and Kyra scratched your head “all her idea”.

You lifted your face from your mums shoulder “Aussie mummy day!” You cheered and the girls in the room laughed.

“I think we should go out for a nice dinner Sunshine and open my present together, how does that feel” she said, feeling embarrassed that her teammates where seeing her this vulnerable.

“Okay mummy”

#woso #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso community #matildas #steph catley x reader #steph catley #arsenal wfc #kyra cooney cross #sunshine

[bellarkeselection]

Walter to the Rescue

Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias

After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.

Tag list - @cognacdelights

Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”

My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.

“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”

I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”

It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”

“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.

“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.

He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”

“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.

The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”

“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.

Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.

Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”

“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.

I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”

“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.

“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.

Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”

“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.

He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”

“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”

He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.

“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”

“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”

He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”

“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.

Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”

“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.

Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.

I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.

“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.

Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”

“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#cole x reader #cole walter #cole walter x reader #noah lalonde #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #netflix #jackie howard #alex walter #friends to lovers #lost in the woods #horse ranch #colewalteredit #Spotify

[erospandemos]

Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

#Kpop #Kpop fluff #newjeans hanni #Newjeans #Danielle #newjeans danielle #Danielle fluff

[writers-hes]

Toy Horses Outside the Brothel

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)

A/N: This is dedicated to @runnning-outof-time ! Thank you for giving me guidelines and for reading my work before anybody else did. You’re amazing and I wish I could write Tommy as good as you do. 

Want to be tagged?   navigation | main master lists | PROTECTION MASTERLIST

BIRMINGHAM, 1900:

Tommy first met her when his father took him to the docks. Arthur Shelby Sr. told impressionable young Tommy that there were kids he could play with by the docks. Tommy agreed, wanting to impress his father. On the way there, right outside of what looked like a house with many rooms, was her.

You were lonely and something in Tommy told him to play with you instead. Besides, the boys were too big around the docks. Arthur Shelby left him right outside the establishment and threw a shilling to you. You picked it up, stuffed it in your pocket, and looked at him.

He smiled at you widely, a tooth missing from his mouth and extended his hand towards you.

“I’m Tommy,” he said. You reciprocate the gesture, telling him your name and shaking his hand. You were more reserved, Tommy noticed. He was so used to the ruckus in their house that he expected every child to be as energetic as them. “Why did my father give you money?”

“He wants me to play with you while he’s inside,” you said. “I don’t have many toys but…I do have this,” you said, showing him your wooden horse toy. They were your prized possession, one of the few gifts that your father sent when he promised the world to your mother.

“Oh! I love horses,” he said. “Do you? I like watching horses,”

“Yes,” you replied. “My mother said that my father owned many. I’ve never met him though. Where do you watch horses?”

“That’s alright. Fathers hit kids. See?” he said, showing you a bruise on his side quickly. “My mother puts ice on it and it tickles. We watch it in the races. My mum takes me for my birthdays. She usednto ride a white horse before. She told me. Do you go to school?”

“No,” you shook your head. “But my mum taught me how to read and how to write. Sometimes, Big Johnny teaches me arithmetic. One plus one equals two,”

“You’re smart. Who’s Big Johnny?”

You hummed, making the wooden horse gallop on the murky ground. People in the house all told you that you were. If only poor Mary Magdalene had the means to send you to school. If only. You stop your movements and move your toy towards Tommy.

“Here,” you said. “Big Johnny is the man who runs this place. He’s kind,”

“You won’t have a toy,” he replied.

“It’s okay. I have more but they’re in my mama’s room. My father sent them. Sorry if it’s dirty,”

“Thanks,” he said. It’s the first time anyone has ever given him something without asking for it. He keeps it with him; keeps the memory of a girl who watched him intently while he played with a toy horse. That’s why when his father exited the house, with less money in his pocket, Tommy asked if he could come again next time.

-

When the house closed, you ran to your mother’s room. You usually had to stay out until five in the morning, sleeping on the sacks right in front of the brothel until your mother woke you up. She’s been seeing less men these days…always cooped up in her room, asking for you. She didn’t mind if you stained her bed with sweat and grease. She’d ask how your day was and you told him about Tommy, the boy you met earlier.

“I’m glad you have a friend,” she coughed into her white handkerchief. The blood stain was normal now. You were worried at first, but your mother told you to never tell anyone. You just never knew how serious it all was when you slipped once. You were talking to Big Johnny; he was teaching you how to subtract.

“If I help you, are you going to pay me?” you asked, perched on his lap. He had been the only father figure in your life. He’d help your mum surprise you for your birthdays and give you some money every now and then.

“Pay you? You’re robbing me,” he kids. “What do you need the money for?”

“I’m planning to buy mum a present. A nice handkerchief,” you said. “The one she has has blood—“

“What is it, bug?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, smiling sickly sweet.

“You have to tell me,” he replied. “It’s your—your safety,”

It was your turn to look confused.

“But mum told me to never tell anyone,” you whispered, heart racing. What did he mean by it? “Why would I not be safe? I’m safe. I have mum with me,”

Big Johnny ran his hand through his hair, then his chin. You knew that it was a sign of his agitation, so you relented.

“You can’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “But mum has been coughing up blood for a while. She said it’s fine. You won’t take her from me right, Johnny?”

“Fuck, kid,” he sighed, stressed at the sudden turn out of events. “No more arithmetic today, okay? I’ll go talk to your mum. Just go outside or play or whatever,”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, panic rising in your throat. It constricts while you keep yourself from crying.  “Mum will be so mad at me! Please don’t tell on me,”

“Do you know why she’s coughing up blood?” he asked, his voice serious. He knew that you had to be talked to in his “adult voice” for you to listen. You knew that he needed to be stern for you to listen.

“N-no…” your hair falls messily as you shake your head, picking on your nail beds.

“She’s sick, bug,” he said. “If we don’t do anything about it, you could get sick too. The two of you might die,” he explained. “Look, kid…you have a bright future ahead of you, alright?”

“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t take her from me! Please, Johnny. My mum is all I have,” you cried, tears started flowing once the first one dropped.

Johnny couldn’t do anything else. He relented but locked your mother in her room. Whenever you went in, he made sure you had some face mask on to protect yourself. You only saw her for a few minutes every day. Parting her was painful and Johnny had to console you while you cried. He gave up his bunk and slept in his workspace so you won’t have to sleep with your mum.

A week later, your mum died of lung cancer.

It was too late, the doctor explained. Johnny let you stay in his bunk, never mind the fact that he had no space for himself now. He didn’t mind. You were his top priority. How is he going to raise a child in a brothel?

-

Your mother always told you that as long as you were with her, you would never be lonely. There was no burial, just her body being thrown and burned with the rest of Birmingham’s garbage. It made you wonder what your body would be like dead. You decided to never end up like her, one way or another you were getting out.

Tommy continued to visit you, but he knew that you were different now. It has only been a week and you’ve grown up so fast. When he arrived, a box of your toy horses was prepared for him.

“What’s this for?” he asked, eyes brightening up at the sight of the box. His father threw a shilling your way again.

“It’s for you. I don’t want to play anymore,” you said. “I kept one white horse for me but you can have them.”

“Why not?” he asked, galloping the toy you gave him last week. “Thank you. I don’t have my own. I always have to share with Arthur, John and Ada.”

“My mom died…you were my first friend and you never met her,” you said, tears falling on the ground. “I’ve been living in Big Johnny’s room,”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “My Aunt Pol says that friends are there for each other. I’m…I’m your friend,”

You smiled a teary smile, appreciating the underlying message behind his words. He’ll be there for you. But until when?

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1905

Fifteen, you were fifteen. You haven’t even turned fifteen for a week and you were working. The owner of the house told Big Johnny that if you wanted to keep living there, you would have to work too. Johnny had no place for himself, no house—his money all went to you. Your clothes, the books you’ve read, the food you ate. He'll get you a cake with a candle along with a pound for special occasions. If you were lucky, some of the girls would give you something. Tommy’s dad stopped coming and so was the shilling you got.

He stayed, though. He’d talk to you about school and how he wanted to leave.

“You’re lucky you’re in school,” you said, watching Tommy smoke a cigarette. You were never a fan if them, seeing as your mother died of fucking lung cancer. “You have to stay,”

“I’m not built for it though. They’re all so boring,” he said, blowing the smoke away. “If only I could work like you. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?”

“The owner told me to work,” you shrugged, pulling the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. “Johnny asked the boss if I could help him with the girls and management, but he said no. Wanted me to work because it will bring more money in,” you bitterly replied. “I want to go to school but the fucking boss wanted me to present myself as a Cherry Girl. You wanna know what that is?”

“What?”

“A fucking virgin.” you shrugged. “Said many men will pay for someone like me. Today’s my first night and Johnny cried a little bit when he saw me. I’d kill and die to go to school, Tom.”

“Shit, love, I’m sorry. I was being insensitive,” he offered. “Hm, maybe you’ll bag one rich man you know? Some rich bloke from London and he’ll take you. Besides, at least you smell nice,”

“This shit is awful,” you countered, sighing. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t going to cry tonight.”

“Hey,” he said, sitting closer to you. He wraps your arm around you and lets you stay there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stay in school and do well, okay? I’ll study so hard; I’ll take you out of here. Let you live in a mansion with lots of space to run in. Fuck, I’m sorry, love,”

“It’s not your fault, Tommy,” was your weak reply. “I’m just…I told myself that I would never be like my mother and now, I am,”

“You’re not her,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you.m, never mind if the grease and sweat of his clothes mixed with your perfume. “You’re not her.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1906

“Fuck, Tom. You can’t stay here while I’m working,” you scolded. You were lying, you appreciated the fact that Tommy was here. He’ll wait until you finish your shift, until you meet your quota. It was always quick, though. You had a rich patron that covered your every living expense.

“My patron’s coming,” you told him, and he tenses. He remembered the way you cried to him after your first ever shift last year. How some old fuck didn’t even bother. He finished and threw you some coins. He remembered his rage when you told him about this new guy. He’s quite scary but he pays the most, you said. “He doesn’t like seeing me with other men,”

“I’m a man now?” he quips, a smirk on his lips. “It’s not like I can afford it. I’m broke. Besides, I’ll act like a bodyguard, yeah? All I ask for payment is a day out with you. Aunt Poll is cooking something on Sunday. Want you to eat something that’s not whatever is being cooked here. We can go on a picnic. I met a girl who worked at this mansion, and they have lots of flowers in the garden. Shit you’ll like,”

You offered him a slight smile, nodding.

“Will your aunt be okay with…me eating your food?” you asked. Tommy took notice of how insecurity laced your voice. His suggestions of meeting his family have always been met with resistance. He understood. Although Polly has been insisting on meeting the girl he’s been spending his time with, he couldn’t risk his father recognising you and then, treating you like trash.

“Of course. She’s been more annoying. Told my mum about the girl I’m seeing,” he said. “I’ll be the first boy to take you out, hm?”

“Shut up,” was your only reply.

Sunday comes and you asked your boss for a day off.

That day, Tommy took you to the garden with Polly’s chicken stew and his mum’s fig cake. Tommy didn’t let you work, he set down the food and opened the containers.

“The best meal you’ll ever have,” he said while you sat. “I should’ve done this earlier. What have you been eating?”

“I’m lucky enough to be fed. Johnny gets me some food out of the brothel sometimes.” you said. “Thanks for taking me here. I love it.”

“I knew it,” he said, spooning out your portion and giving it to you.

“I want to have a house with lots of flowers. Different coloured blooms all year round.” you said.

“The caretaker of the garden says that we can pick some flowers. Do you want to take some home?” he asked. You nodded, a flush on your face. How could someone not love him?

BIRMINGHAM, 1908

“How have you been my angel?” he asked, twirling your hair in between your fingers. “Can’t believe I missed you last week,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. You giggled. “I was in London and all I could think of was you,”

“I’ve never been to London,” you told him. “Are you going to take me there?” you asked, wide-eyed. He’s been your patron since you reached 18. He was quite younger than your usual customers. He always came to visit when you were seventeen but never looked at you. As if that made it better.

“You haven’t?” he asked. “I’ll take you there, Angel. I’ll show you the whole world. Hm?”

“You will?” you asked, faux excitement in your voice. He loved this; you knew. He loved that you were a fragile little bird in need of saving. He loved that you’d listen to him talk about his father. He’s the sappy kind. He liked to hold hands, talk, and make love. He’s paid you more than anyone else and gave you a hefty allowance. Big Johnny didn’t have to think about your safety anymore. “I want to go to the city! Buy everything that I see and just…breathe a different air,” you said.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll take you there and buy you everything you ever lay your eyes on. I’m not fucking around. I’ll take you there,”

“You will?” you asked. “I don’t like the idea of you leaving me. Did you know that? Sometimes, when you leave, I have to lock myself in my room and refuse everyone,” you lied. You locked yourself in because your quota was already met. You were just saying these things to keep him coming back. A little bit of pretending never hurt you. It meant a bigger tip, more money.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “You’re my hero…”

Somehow, you didn’t find yourself lying when you told him. You felt dirty, you felt like your mother when she thought your father would give her the world. But Simon paid big money to have you alone for multiple nights a week.  No other customers were to ask for services.

“I’m your hero, alright…you’re my little bird. I’m dead set on taking you with me to London. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll show you the world and get you out of these slums.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1909

“You don’t have to do this anymore,” Tommy said. You were well enough to have your own place somewhere near the docks now. Johnny had given you some furniture that the house wasn’t using anymore, helping you fix the tables and the chairs that you would be using.  You didn’t have to live at the brothel anymore and it was all thanks to Simon.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy,” you chuckled. “Do you like my place?” Tommy looked around, flowerpots littered your house.

“I’m serious.” he asked. “I’ll have you safe in Small Heath,”

“And my job? What will pay for this place? I finally have enough space for my flowers.” you asked. “I can’t just leave. Come on, you have to see the view on my balcony.”

You dragged Tommy’s hand to the balcony to show him the view. You were a little far from the docks now but from your balcony you can see it. The blue water, the usual chaos…you were smiling so freely, so beautifully. Tommy stills, unspoken words lingering in the air. You could realise it too…you’ve been realising it slowly. The world was in your hands. You could seize it if you wanted it. It fills Tommy with determination. It pumps through his veins, and it rings in his ears. Determination, consistency, and power. Three things to play with the world…three things that he’ll have. He could get you a bigger house. If he played right, he could have it all.

“This is why I got this place,” you said. “I mean, there were others but the view of the docks…I used to think everything about it was so ugly, you know? So grey, so evil…so grotesque but from the vantage point, everything is different,” a soft smile played on your lips when you let go of Tommy’s hand. He already missed your touch. “I can’t leave my job now because I wouldn’t have this,”

“I’ll work for it,” he says proudly.

“Tom, I know you’re not happy with how I earn money. Fuck, I’m not happy too. I hate that job. I know you hate it when I turn down your offer. But I have nothing else. You have to support your siblings. Don’t you get it? We’re all whores, Tom. We just sell different parts of ourselves. Mine just so happens to be my body.”

It enrages him and you could see it. See his face fall apart, how his jaw ticked.

“I’ll do it.” he said. “I’ll fucking do it. You think I’m fucking around when I tell you that I’ll protect you? I will. I’ll make a name for myself and protect you. I’ll fucking protect you; I swear on my life.”

“I know you will, Tom,” you said, inching closer. “But can’t you just be happy for me? This once?”

“We could add a little chair right here,” he relented. How could he ever tell you how much he hated himself for not being enough right now?  “I’ll bring some of Polly’s flowers. You’d let me stay here?”

“Only if you’re being nice,”

“What if I’m too tired to make the trip back to Small Heath? Can I stay here?” he asked.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But only if you have food for me or something,”

“Or something? You’re not letting me stay for free? I’m your best mate,” he chuckled. “I mooch off you all the time,”

“You have more than I do. It’s time for me to mooch off on you,”

“Yeah? Well, I want yours,” he said. “I’m glad though…that you don’t have to live there anymore. You’re safer here,”

“Thank you, Tom,” you smiled, sitting by the railing of your balcony. “I’m glad too.”

“I’ll make sure you’re protected,” he promises.

“How?”

“I’ll protect you.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1910

Tommy gave you the number of his telephone years ago. You were shaking, something bad had happened and you didn’t know who else to turn to. Big Johnny was too busy breaking up fights in the bar beside the brothel. You walked home shakily. Tommy called the brothel earlier to tell you that he couldn’t make it tonight because of some gang business. It was fine, of course. So, you went to the market to buy some supplies. You just didn’t know that he would be there.  

You were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, biting your perfectly manicured nails.

“Who’s calling?” a woman asked from the other line. Her tone was snippy, and you knew she meant business.

“Hi,” you cleared your throat. “I’m looking for Tommy Shelby?”

“Who is this?” she asked, confused as to why a woman would suddenly call Tommy in such a manner. She was used to Tommy’s girls calling, an embarrassment usually hinted when they spoke. But this new girl had no shame.

“I’m a friend of Tommy’s,”

“Tommy has many girlfriends. You’re going to have to be specific,” she said, intrigued.

“Oh, of course,” you said. You told her your name. “Is he there?”

“Tommy!” you could hear her voice call. “Some girl is on the phone for you!”

“What, Poll?” he asked, scowling.

“Pick up the phone, Tom. Your friend is asking for you,” she said, passing the phone to him. She didn’t leave the room immediately, sitting on the nearby chair instead to listen in.

“Tommy Shelby,” he says, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Tommy,” you whispered. “He was there…he was there.”

“Who, love?” Tommy asked. Polly noticed how his voice softened, how his stance relaxed. “Do you need me there?”

“He was one of my customers before,” you forced out. “He was always…rude and rough,” you choked. “I hate this fucking job, Tommy. I fucking hate it and he treated me like an object today just because he paid for my services years ago,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I know you were busy but I fucking hate it,”

“Shh…it’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m going over there, and you could tell me,” he said. “Will that be alright?”

“I—yes,” you nodded, wiping your tears hastily. “I got some of your favourite fruit from the market today. Didn’t know you have an expensive taste,”

He chuckled softly.

“I’ll see you, alright?” he asked. “Keep the doors locked. I have my copy,”

“Okay, Tommy. Stay safe for me?” you asked.

“Of course.” Tommy put down the phone until he heard you end the line. He sighed and went to go get his coat until he saw Polly with an eyebrow raised. “Fuck, I didn’t see you there,”

“Who would? You were too lovestruck to notice anything,” she teased. “That’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”

“We’re friends, Pol,” he clarified.

“She’s the girl from the docks, then?” she asked. Tommy nodded. “Fuck, that’s rough. She’s a whore,”

“Don’t,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Don’t call her that. I’m trying to build something for all of us, Pol. For her. She hates her job…she fucking hates it and I can’t do anything about it,”

“You don’t have to save her, Tom. You can’t save everyone,” she said but she knew that Tommy was stubborn. Everything that she’ll say will fall on deaf ears.

“It’s all her,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get her out of there if it’s the last thing I do.”

The walk to your place was unnerving. Thoughts swarmed in his head. If he only had it in him to murder the man who dared to look at you. He’s never made peace with how you earned your money, but he still happily showed up after every shift. You never talk about your customers, and he didn’t like to ask.

“Tommy, you’re here,” you greeted. He could see how swollen your eyes were; how red they were.

“Of course, I am,” he replied. “Are you okay?” He hangs his coat on the coat rack and walks towards the couch where you were seated.

“I am now,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry for making you worry but this job…people reduce me to such an object. I didn’t even know his name, you know?”

“I know, love.” he said, his heart beating inside his chest. What was it? What was the beating?

“Tommy, I’m going to make a request. It’s absurd and we haven’t done it yet…”

“What?” he whispered, unsure.

“Can-can you hold me?” you asked. “You don’t have to but…I have no semblance of what it’s like to be loved anymore. I want to pretend. At least for tonight, somebody out there loves me.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” he said. “You’re my friend. Of course, I love you.”

You only smiled, snuggling closer to Tommy. You were his friend…only a friend. How else would he look at you differently? You still had to pretend because the love that he was willing to give was not the love that you were looking for.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

Multiple knocks on your door woke you up. Someone was screaming your name outside and you felt yourself panic. You took the gun that Tommy gifted you last year and crept down the stairs. You opened the door slowly to reveal two men—one older and one younger. The younger one had a smirk playing on his lips while the other looked panicked.

“Who are you?” you asked, tightening the gun behind your back.

“Arthur Shelby,” the one with the beard replied. You nodded. “I’m Tommy’s older brother. This is John,”

“Where…where’s Tommy?”

“He asked us to come get you,” John replied. “We mean no harm.”

“What happened to him?” you asked. “Come in,”

The brothers entered your house and watched you lay your gun on the table. An unspoken threat.

“Tommy’s not in a good place,” Arthur replied. “Well, he’s asking for you. He’s having these…episodes. I don’t fucking know what thr fuck they’re called but sometimes, he calls for you when he shuts down,”

“It's even worse today,” John added. “Our mother died,”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” you said, offering a small smile. “Will you let me dress better? I’ll come with you,”

You met the brothers outside of your house, your gun secured on your skirt.

“Are you Tommy’s whore?” John asked as you walked.

“John!”

“I’m not his fucking whore,”

“So, why is he always at the brothel by the docks?” he pressed.

“We met when we were kids. Your dad used to visit the brothel with him,” you shrugged. “I never understood why your father took him there all the time. It’s a dangerous place,”

“Why were you there?”

“My mother worked there. I was born there. I grew up there,” you shrugged. “Tommy was my only friend growing up. Your father stopped coming but Tommy still managed to show up,”

“I see,” Arthur replied. “You’re the girl who gave him toy horses when we were kids, then. He never let us touch them. Even now, he has them lined up on his wall,”

“Yeah, I was. I gave it to him a week after my mother died,” you recalled.

“I’m sorry for calling you his whore,” John said. He realised now that your relationship with Tommy was deeper. It was more meaningful than he realised.

“It’s okay,” you let out a small smile. “It’s a fair assumption,”

Minutes of silence passed by, and your group stopped in Watery Lane. You’ve never been in his house before; you never had the time to do so. You were also quite ashamed to show yourself. How could you prove that you weren’t after Tommy’s money if that's exactly what you are after men?

The door of the house opens, and you assume it was Polly. The same woman who you talked to on the telephone before.

“He’s in his room upstairs. Last door to the left,” she said.

“Thank you,” you rushed to where Tommy was. You didn’t bother to stay and eavesdrop. You were there for Tommy. You knocked on his door slightly.

“Stay the fuck away from my door or I will kill you,” he shouted. You cracked the door open slightly.

“It’s me, Tom,” you said. He rose from his bed and rushed towards you, flinging his arms around you. He pulled you closer. “Hi,”

“She’s dead,” he murmurs against your hair. “My mum’s dead. My dad left. I didn’t even like him, you know? He always hit the three of us. I thought it would be better if he just fucking left but my mum died because he left. Now, I don’t have her.”

“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” you said. You knew he was still struggling after his father left many months ago. He was shaking in your arms, trying to grasp you tightly. Trying to be closer.  “I’m so sorry,”

“I…I don’t know what to do,” he said. “You never got to meet her. She’d love you; you know?”

“That makes us even,” you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’m here now, Tom. You could rest,”

“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” he asked meekly, like a child.

“I’ll be here,” you nod, caressing his cheek softly. He nods, yawning after he evened out his breathing.

“Shit, love. I’m so tired,” he yawned again. “Let’s both go to sleep. We deserve it. I’ll see you when I’m awake?” he asked, adjusting your position on his small bed.

“I’ll see you,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him.

-

“Tommy’s playing a dangerous game,” Polly commented from downstairs. It has been met with no resistance.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1914

“Good afternoon, Pol,” you smiled. You were invited for Sunday dinner, and you decided to bring cake from the bakery that Tommy liked. You’ve only met them last year, but you’ve become such an integral part of their family that people knew you were closely associated with them. Even Simon.

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring cake,” she said. “We’d rather you spend it somewhere,”

“It’s alright,” you said. “I wanted to do something nice,”

“Keeping Tommy levelheaded is nice enough. Seriously, what did you do?” Ada asked, chopping the vegetables. She was reluctant at first but now, she couldn’t go a week without ranting to you. Girls’ night is what she called them.

“I don’t know,” you chuckled. “May I help?”

“If you could kindly chop the carrots, please,” Polly said. You set yourself and rolled your sleeves, peeling the carrots first. “Tommy and the boys went out for a while. They said it was some business with the Blinders. While they’re out, how are you?”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Me?”

“Of course. Ada has been talking my ear off about some guy she’s so secretive about,” she scoffed.

“I’ve been working less,” you confessed. “I’m helping out on the counter. Helping Big Johnny with the money and the accounts. I work a few times a week now. Simon’s been frequenting the brothel and well, you know what Simon does. It helps that he doesn’t stay long. The brothel pays me for my assistance. I can buy you cake every week now,”

“Don’t do that. Finn will be spoiled rotten,” Ada says. “Besides, you deserve nice things for yourself, you know,”

“I know but I can’t help it,” you said with a soft smile. “I like doing nice things for you,”

The boys soon come through the door, spilling with laughter. Tommy makes a beeline towards you as soon as he spots you.

“How was the afternoon?” you asked, bumping your hips with him.

“It was good,” he said. “Finn got into a fight with some kids, and we had to deal with it.”

“Is Finn okay? I brought cake.”

“Just a bruised ego,” he chuckled. My favourite?”

“Of course,” you said. “But let’s pretend that it’s for Finn, alright?”

“It’s always for Finn,” he groans. “He has you wrapped around his finger,”

“He does. He’s such a charming kid,” you praised. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Taking a bath before dinner. You have me for now,” Tommy said. “Can I sleep at your house later?” he asks in a softer tone. He’s been sleeping at your place ever since last year. He said you make him sleep better.

“You know it’s never a problem,” you said. His presence made you feel safe. He made you feel secure. “Will we leave together?”

“Yes. I’d like to sleep as soon as possible,” he says, dropping his forhead on your shoulder. You only chuckled. “I’m so tired. So, so tired,”

“Who are they fooling?” Ada asked in whispers. “Are we sure they’re best mates?”

“They’ve insisted on it for years,” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t think they’re aware,”

“I don’t think so either,” John says. “But Tommy throws a fit whenever she has to meet that Simon prick. Calls him a rich bastard.”

“He is a rich bastard,” Ada nodded. “She says he just came into his inheritance. Ammunitions,”

“Shit. She hit the jackpot, then,” John commented. “Wonder how that’s gonna go?”

“There’s nothing to wonder, John,” Arthur says. John could only nod his head.

-

You stumbled inside your house around half past midnight. You were both quite tipsy, having drank Pol’s stocks of wine. The Shelby Company Ltd. has been gaining more popularity now, along with the Blinders. Hell, Tommy even posted two Blinders to guard you. “For when I’m not around,” he said.

“Pol’s going to kill me for giving Finn too much cake,” you giggled, leaning on him.

“I reckon you’re banned from Sunday dinners,” Tommy jokes, taking his shoes off. He takes note of how you’re dressed today. “You know you can remove all the fucking things on your body right? Rouge…the jewels. Where’d you get them? Is the rich bastard buttering you up?”

“I like it. Dressing up makes me happy,” you frowned. “I’m allowed to like nice things, right?”

“Right,” his jaw ticked. It should be him who's giving you these gifts…showing you a lavish life. He hated it. “Later?”

“Later,” you nodded. “When I’m banned from Sunday dinners, you wouldn’t let me be left out, right?”

“‘Course not,” he shrugged, pulling you to your bedroom like he owned the place. You didn’t mind. You were happy to see that he was comfortable in your home. “You’re my best girl.”

“That’s what you say to your horses,”

“You’ve got really good horse sense and you’re always on your high horse,” he says, peeling his coat away. He was rummaging in your chest now, looking for clothes he might have left until he settled on a simple white shirt and pyjama pants.

“Yeah, yeah. You and your horse wordplay.” You entered the bathroom to dress down. Just like Tommy, you settled in his shirt and pants. They were more comfortable than singlets and you certainly didn’t want to make Tommy uncomfortable.

He was already waiting for you on the bed when you came back. He pats the space beside him. You obliged. You were looking into each other’s eyes with small smiles, Tommy’s finger trailing down your arm absentmindedly.

“I…” words died in his throat before he could get them out. “I…”

“What is it, Tom? Are you okay?”

“I’ll get you out of here,” he rasps. “I’ll get you out of there and I won’t let you work a day in your life anymore.”

“Tommy,” you sighed. “I can’t—can’t leave this job. It’s all I have,” He tightens his arms around you, afraid that you’ll ask him to let go.

“I know but once I come back from the war—“

“The war?” you asked, removing his arms around you. “War?”

“We enlisted,” he clarifies, trying to gauge your reaction. “Once I come back, I’ll be so fucking rich. I’ll have you. I’ll keep you and you won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll live in a mansion and have servants. Just like what we used to talk about,”

“Tommy, you’re going to war?” you asked, standing from the bed. His eyes watched you settle down shakily on the single chair by the bed. “Fuck. You’re going to war. You’re going to leave me,”

“No, love. Come on, I—“ he grunts, sitting up from his relaxed position.

“It’s war, Tommy! They change people…I don’t want to lose you; do you not get that? Are you not happy here? Is that why you're throwing your life away?”

“I’m not throwing my life away,” he says, a frown. “We’ll be drafted one way or another because we’re poor. Might as well do it now than be forced. Some of my men will still watch over you every now and then. They’ll still make sure that you’re safe. We’ll send letters. Alright?”

“Letters,” you scoffed. “And what if the letters stopped coming?”

“Don’t say that, please,” he begs. “I’m doing this for all of us. The business will be handled by Polly and when I’m back, I’ll make it even bigger. Alright? You have to trust me,” You didn’t even want to ask about the business. You didn’t want to ask why more men wore peaky caps. You didn’t want to ask what the Shelby Company Ltd. really was. Not now.

“I know you will, Tom,” you said. “But I’m scared. For the first time since I’ve known you, you won’t be here. I’m scared,”

Tommy lays his hand on your shoulder. Words he couldn’t say lingered in the air. I’ll marry you once I step foot in England. He didn’t know what else to say; didn’t know if there was still something to say. So, he kneels before you and makes you look at him. You were crying. So afraid, so alone.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I have two more days,” he says. “Will I still see you?”

“Yes, of course,” you said. “You’ll come back for me?”

“Of course. I have a picture of you already in my pocket. I have to make sure to come back to you,” he said. “and everyone else, of course.”

He fishes a necklace from his pocket, his mother’s locket.

“Here,” he said, showing it to you. It was one of the last pieces of jewellery she owned. “Mum gave it to me. You know I’ve always worn it. I want you to wear it now. Think of it as a loan, yeah? You’ll give it back once we see each other again,”

“Tommy, I—“

“I want you to accept it. I want you to see you wear it now. I want to see you wear it before I leave. But most of all I want for us to stay the same,” he says, holding you and kissing your hair softly. You couldn’t push him away. You’ve longed for this your whole life. To be held, to feel loved. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“I’m sorry. So, so, so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re wasting your life away,” you cleared your throat. “I’m so—I’m so proud of you and your bravery. I’m so proud of you but I can’t be fucking happy for you. I don’t want to wake up every day knowing that you’re not here. I don’t want to have to guess if you were alive or not.”

“I am,” he promises. “I’ll be alive. I’ll come back as your Tommy. Just…wait for me, alright?”

You clung onto Tommy two days later by the train. He whispered that he would come back. He said that he will make sure of it. He breathes in the smell of your hair—roses. He envelopes you in his arms once more and turns to leave, never looking back. You knew, in your hysterics, that if he comes back from the war, the same old Tommy you used to know would never be.

PART 2 PART 3

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shellby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #hurt/comfort #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby angst #cillian murphy

[buckybarnesb-tch]

Religious Teachings -Klaus M.

Okay so…I may have taken the innocence thing just a bit too far? I grew up Mormon and now I have a shit load of religious trauma and I think that propelled this one a bit so…I hope it was everything you wanted and if it isn’t I’m so sorry😅 but this is probably the most fun fic that I’ve ever gotten a request for and now I want to write more like it🤣

I apologize in advance

Warnings: Major Innocence Kink which pushes its way into Dub-Con, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink (Dd-Lg), Religious Trauma

DD:DNE

This is a Religious Fic.

Don’t Like = Don’t Read!!

It’s possible I took the innocent thing a bit too far but considering you didn’t want her to know what sex was at all I assume that’s what you wanted? I hope it’s what you intended.

If you had told Klaus that one day he would work at an all girls catholic school he wouldn’t have believed you. Here he is though, Saint Holy Mary’s School for Girls as an Art teacher and he’s never been happier.

When Klaus met Y/n he knew she was perfect, she had been home for summer break at the time and Klaus scared off some teenage boys making vulgar comments to her as she walked home. They talked for a few minutes and it didn’t take Klaus long to understand that she’s innocent. Alarmingly innocent. She’s a teenager who is almost an adult that no one has taught about sex, and while Klaus wanted to know how that’s even possible, he decided instead to just enjoy the gift he has been given in the form of his innocent little Bunny.

She was shocked to see him in the school but pleasantly surprised, she blushed whenever he spoke to her, blushed whenever she saw him in the halls or at meals and blushed whenever he complimented her projects. Klaus had spent nearly 2 months just getting her comfortable in his presence, she spends a lot of time with him and often helps him with things that get her out of different classes. Y/n loved spending time with Klaus just as much as he did with her, she proved it the first time he touched her, though she clearly hadn’t understood what was going on and he found it truly adorable.

‘Might as well just spend the rest of class here love, there’s 20 more minutes.’ She shrugged, blushing as he pulled a chair over beside him for her to sit in. She made herself comfortable and Klaus couldn’t keep from looking at her legs, the short skirt she was forced to wear everyday showing several inches above her mid thigh and he couldn’t stop from imagining them wrapped around his head. ‘So, tell me Y/n, what made your parents choose this school for you? Were you too naughty for them to control anymore or did your parents go here?’ Once again her face was red as she quickly corrected him.

‘My mom went here! I didn’t-I’m not-‘

‘I was teasing love, I know you’re the most innocent girl here.’ He was still teasing her, wanting to see how she would react and she didn’t disappoint him.

‘I’m not that innocent. I just don’t like to break the rules…my dad never paid much attention to me when I was a kid unless I did something right so breaking the rules wasn’t really an option I guess…I don’t like-‘

‘You don’t like people to be disappointed in you. It’s a good thing, but I don’t think anyone could be disappointed in you Bunny, you’re perfect.’ He could practically smell the blood rushing to her cheeks as he rested a hand on her knee but she didn’t pull away. ‘Such a good girl.’

‘Thank you, you’re always so sweet, I love getting to talk to you Mr.Mikaelson.’

‘Ah ah ah. What have I told you about that? You call me by my first name now that we’re friends. You wouldn’t want me to be…disappointed in you would you?’ He questioned, moving his hand up to hold her thigh and seeing his fingers only about 2 inches from touching her panties making her breath just a bit heavier.

‘No! I’m sorry, I just, it’s weird to call a teacher by his name is all-‘

‘But we’re friends. After all this time I thought we were…more than friends even?’ Her eyes widened and she held the sleeve of his red Henley tightly.

‘Of course we are! We’re best friends! I’m sorry Klaus, you know I love spending time with you.’ He couldn’t help his smile at her nearly idiotic level of innocence as she thought he meant ‘best friends’ even as he has his hand almost under her skirt.

‘It’s okay. I love being your best friend, you’re my precious little Bunny. I could never really be disappointed in you love.’ His hand squeezed her flesh and she gasped quietly just before he caught a heavenly scent coming from her making his fangs ache in desperate need of being buried in her throat. In the 2 months he had known her, he had never smelled that sweet slick between her legs until now and he could see as she pushed them together that she didn’t quite understand what the feeling in her stomach was. He would have to teach her everything…he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about that.

For the next month he got her accustomed to him touching her, arms, legs, back, face, his hands anywhere on her body wasn’t something she minded, not even when he hugged her from behind and rested his hands on her lower belly. That’s when he knew, when she leaned back into him and pushed her thighs together, he knew he could have her.

The next time they were alone together he made sure they had plenty of time. Y/n was scheduled to stay at home that weekend but Klaus made sure something came up with her parents so she couldn’t go. When she spoke to him, he convinced her to not tell the school and just spend the weekend at his place. It would be fun. She was so excited by the idea of spending time with her friend outside of school that she barely worried about the broken rules, getting off at the first bus stop after leaving the school and hopping into his car with a huge smile on her face.

Klaus had gotten all kinds of snacks and drinks, ordering takeout and relaxing with her eating everything she’s not normally allowed to. He had also gone to the store and gotten her clothes, both pajamas and day clothes to wear if she wanted to go someplace tomorrow or Sunday, all of which were short or revealing and he had her change into black short shorts and a tank top with a wolf on it. Last but not least he put on an R rated movie. She argued but didn’t put up too much of a fight about it. It was a horror movie and she was shocked by the cursing and the drugs, but she enjoyed the stupidity of the characters and how they died.

It wasn’t until they got to the reason Klaus chose this movie that she seemed uncomfortable. She watched as the teenage boy pulled his girlfriend onto his lap and ripped her top off, her tits flashing on the screen before he seemed to make a meal out of them.

Klaus had ensured that Y/n was pressed against his side firmly with his arm around her waist so that he wouldn’t need to pull her closer when the scene came on.

As the boy continued kissing down her body he flipped the girl over and ripped off her panties, shoving his face into her. Y/n gasped, completely stunned by this action and looking up at Klaus in shock. ‘What are they doing?’ She questioned and he looked down at her, trying to stay neutral.

‘They’re having sex love, being normal teenagers. You…you know what sex is…don’t you?’

‘Of course I do, I…it’s to make babies…my mom said I didn’t need to know until…until I was ready to get married. They’re sinning.’ Klaus chuckled at that and Y/n looked back up at him confused before turning back to the television and watching as the boy began thrusting into the girl roughly and she began crying out in pleasure.

‘All teenagers have sex Y/n, it’s more strange not to have done it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t support mindless sex with a bunch of people you don’t know but if you love someone, really care for them then you should express that with them. You don’t have to make a baby, there’s ways to avoid it if you want to but sex is called ‘making love’ for a reason, it’s the best way to express your care for that special someone.’ She looked confused but he could also smell her excitement. ‘They love each other, so they’re making each other feel good. It’s normal and I’m so sorry you’ve been deprived of basic knowledge…do you see her face?’ He asked, knowing exactly how he was going to convince her to let him touch her. ‘What does her face look like?’

‘Happy…really happy.’

‘Right, and the sounds she’s making? Tell me, what do her sounds make you feel?’ Her face was redder than he had ever seen and she looked away from the TV quickly before he tilted her head up. ‘It’s okay Y/n, I love you. You can tell me how you’re feeling. I would never betray your trust and tell anyone anything. You can be honest with me…do you want me to tell you first?’ She nodded quickly and he tried desperately to hide his smile. ‘Well, when I hear her moaning like that I…honestly it makes me desperate to know what you would sound like if you felt good.’ Y/n was now turned toward his body and holding his Henley tightly, clearly trying to calm her breathing as she got too excited. ‘What are you feeling right now? I won’t make fun of you, I want to help.’

‘I…I feel tingly in…in bad places Klaus…sometimes when-Oh God-‘

‘It’s okay. You’re doing so good Bunny, so, so good for me.’ He pulled her onto his lap gently and ran his hands up her sides.

‘When you…t-touch me I get…I feel hot…and tingly…and I get…I-I get-‘

‘Does your pussy get wet for me Bunny?’ She groaned out, in embarrassment and relief both but he didn’t care as he gripped onto her thigh tightly. ‘It’s normal. It means you love me a whole lot, just like I love you.’ Her whimper was quiet but instant.

‘You do?’ He nodded. ‘Do…do you get wet too?’

How stupid is her fucking mother that she could teach her daughter basic-fuck that women!

‘No Bunny, but my cock gets hard for you whenever you touch me, or I think about you, sometimes at night I touch myself and just think about how precious and beautiful you are and it makes my cock feel so much better. When a man’s cock gets too hard it hurts and you are always the one who makes the pain stop, you make me feel so good Precious.’

‘Are you in pain now Klaus?’ She wondered and this was exactly how he knew he would get her to let him do anything he fucking wanted.

‘Yes Bunny, I’ve been in pain since the movie started.’ She looked up at him in shock and worry making him wince a bit as he moved to prove his discomfort.

‘How do you make it stop hurting, I can-I can leave you alone if you need-‘

‘Don’t leave me Bunny, no! Please? I need to hold you Y/n, don’t go-‘

‘Okay. I’m not going anywhere.’ She reached up, running her fingers through his hair and it sent a shiver down his spine.

‘Have you ever seen a cock before?’ He asked her and she shook her head, probably thankful she couldn’t get redder than she is. ‘Do…do you want to?’ She hesitated before looking back up at him and nodding, trying to look determined which made her all the more adorable. He moved slowly so she didn’t get scared, it had been probably about 200 years since he had fucked a virgin and he knew he needed to be even slower with Y/n. He pushed his sweat pants down along with his boxer briefs, his cock standing straight and hard, leaking at the tip, and completely red which seemed to make her believe he was in serious pain.

As if Y/n couldn’t control herself she reached her hand out and touched his tip, dragging her finger down his length before yanking her hand away when he groaned. ‘I’m Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I-‘

‘No Bunny, no! You made me feel so good, so fucking good! Please just…oh God, please touch me? Please Bunny, help me?’ His desperate cries of pain were too much for her and she reached out, wrapping her hand around his cock, watching him throw his head back as his hand tightened on her thigh. She pumped her hand up and down his length a few times before her eyes found his tip which was leaking. She swiped her thumb across it and his hips thrust up, nearly throwing her off of his lap. ‘My good girl, so good for me! Such a good little Bunny for your Daddy! Don’t stop? Please?!’ He held her hand and helped her speed up for a few moments before looking back down at her and his eyes flashing to her lips. ‘Y/n…will you do something else for me?’

She nodded quickly. ‘Anything Daddy.’

Fuck! He could have cum right there and been completely happy with it but he pushed it back. ‘Please? Daddy needs your lips.’

‘My-my lips?’

He nodded. ‘Please? Just the tip if you want, suck on it like I gave you a lollipop…can you do that Precious?’ She looked back down at his cock before smiling and nodding her head, moving from his lap and kneeling. He could see the excitement in her eyes and he knew right away he was creating a desperate whore. He was going to ruin this girl and he couldn’t care any fucking less, she would belong to no one but him for the rest of eternity and he would never let anyone else touch her perfect body so…how wrong is it really?

She wrapped her lips around his tip and suckled, tongue running over his slit which made his legs stiffen and shake as she did it again, dragging her lips down his length and moaning. That was the final straw for him. He had imagined her mouth and her noises so many times and nothing came close to this, she was perfection and she was never getting away from him. He held the back of her head still as he came up into her mouth and though she jerked a bit at first she got used to it and quickly swallowed, sucking on his cock for more. ‘Did I make you feel better?’ He couldn’t speak, only nod in that moment of total bliss, head thrown back against the couch to keep her from seeing the dark veins under his golden eyes until he could get his hybrid visage under control again, Fuck this girl does things to him! ‘Can I have more cream Daddy?’

‘Oh Fuck!’ Her innocent eyes and words were going to push him over the edge much too quickly. ‘Daddy…Daddy wants to give you more cream. I’ll give you Daddy cream all you want Babygirl but…do you think Daddy can put it somewhere else?’ She tilted her head, looking up at him from her knees. ‘Do you trust me?’ Y/n nodded her head quickly and he smirked, knowing this would be easier than he thought. ‘Can I show you?’

‘Yes Daddy.’ God he’s going to stretch her pussy so much this weekend there will be a permanent indentation of his cock. He lifted her up and laid her onto the couch, throwing his shirt away and grabbing ahold of hers, pulling it off and quickly keeping her arms from covering her perfect tits. They were just the perfect size for his hands and so fucking cute that he couldn’t resist leaning down and wrapping his lips around a nipple, her hips flying up when his teeth nibbled. He took full advantage, dragging his hands down her sides and holding onto her shorts and panties, nibbling again and pulling the clothes down and off as her hips thrust up again. ‘Daddy!’

‘Shh…it’s okay Y/n, it’s just Daddy. I love you Bunny, and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side making your pussy drip for me, do…do you want me?’ He asked, seeming nervous so that she feels needier for him.

‘Yes Daddy, forever but…you’re my teacher, how-‘

‘You let me worry about that, Daddy will make it all okay…just let Daddy…let Daddy inside of you.’ He groaned, pushing her legs apart and squeezing her thighs with an image of his girl round with his baby burned into his brain, silently begging whatever Gods exist if any to allow him to be able to put a baby in his Little Bunny. Leaning his face down into her wetness he licked his tongue up her slit, lapping at her like a thirsty animal before caressing her clit with the tip of his tongue.

‘Oh Daddy! Don’t Stop! Please?!’ He didn’t, he shoved his face into her cunt and ate her like his life depends on it. He wrapped his hand around hers as he wiggled his tongue against her clit and felt her legs lock around his head as she reached her peak for the first time ever, crying out so loud he knew the neighbors would hear if he’d had any. When he pulled away he crawled back up her chest and kissed her neck, lining his cock up at her hole and pushing his way into her before she had time to have doubts, still on cloud nine as he pushed the last 2 inches in a short thrust and she squealed.

‘That’s it Bunny, oh god you’re so perfect. So fucking perfect! So tight on my-‘

‘Daddy! Y-You’re in-inside…you can’t-‘

‘Clearly I can. And I am.’ He turned her face to look up at him and made sure she was looking him in the eyes. ‘My cock is in your pussy right now, so deep you can practically feel me in your guts, can’t you?’ She nodded, whining. ‘This is my pussy now, all mine. No one can ever take you away from me…you have the most perfect cunt I’ve ever seen baby.’ He pulled back a few inches before pushing in again and pressing his lips to her lips for the first time. ‘Tell me Bunny, what was it you wanted from Daddy?’

‘Daa-ah!’ He thrust up again when she didn’t answer and he smirked, feeling his fangs trying to push out of his gums as he became more and more desperate to mark her.

‘Tell me what you wanted.’

‘D-Daddy cream…wanted m-more Daddy cream…please Daddy? Can I have more?’ She was begging now, whining in desperation for his cum in her womb.

‘Daddy will always give you cream. Daddy’s gonna fill you with so much you’ll be leaking for days. We’re going to fill you with cream for the next 2 days and maybe I’ll keep you even longer just to make sure it’s all properly fucked into you.’

‘Yes! Daddy cream! Want you inside me Daddy, inside me forever! Your cock feels so good! Why did no one tell me it feels so good! Can you stay inside me forever? Daddy, please?’

‘Oh Bunny…Daddy’s gonna breed this little body so much, gonna fill you with my cum over and over again until you’re a leaking, fucked out mess, until all you can do is whine and babble my fucking name! Until all you can say is ‘please Daddy more?’ And I’ll fill you over and over until it takes and you’re carrying my baby inside of your gorgeous body.’ Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, his hips thrusting harder as she realized what he meant, what he was really doing. ‘That’s right Bunny, you’re gonna give Daddy babies, gonna fill you with my babies over and over and still you’ll be desperate for more. Cause you know what bunnies do? They breed, they breed like crazy, they get Fucked-‘ he thrust hard getting deeper into her, now holding her legs up and getting as deep as he physically can. ‘-until they can’t anymore and then they do it again cause they’re so needy and desperate and slutty that they can’t stop. You have a slutty little pussy Bunny, are you ready for Daddy to fill it?’

He knew he wouldn’t stop even if she said ‘no’ but he wanted her to want it, because she is his for the rest of eternity. ‘P-please? Daddy cream! Fill my pussy Daddy! Please?!’

‘That’s my good girl. Daddy’s good girl, gonna be so full of me! Fuck!’ He shoved his cock into her as deeply as he could, feeling her pussy squeezing him through her own orgasm and practically milking his cock for all he could give her and Klaus had never felt so blissful, not in 1000 years.

He kept himself buried inside of her cunt, holding her close and pulling a blanket over the both of them, nuzzling into her throat to find some comfort before drifting off to sleep with the TV sound in the background.

Sometime in the night Klaus had moved them upstairs to his bed and cleaned the both of them up. Later that morning he was awoken by the girl in his arms moving, opening his eyes to see her sitting up and keeping the sheet wrapped around her body.

‘I saw it all last night gorgeous, might as well leave the sheet.’ She turned her head to look down at him and as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes he was moving. ‘Oh no, Bunny! No tears, why are you crying?’ To his relief she didn’t fight him, crying into his bare chest as he held her.

‘What am I going to do?!’ She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and sniffling.

‘What do you mean? You’re going to stay right here, with me. I love you Y/n, and all you and I did last night was show our love for each other, there’s nothing wrong with that-‘

‘Unless I’m Pregnant! My Mom Is Going To Kill Me! I’m a disappointment to God and my father-Oh God My Father! He’s gonna kill me-‘ Klaus clamped his hand over Y/n’s mouth to stop her sobbing.

‘No one is Ever going to hurt you, and do you know why?’ She shook her head, tears streaming down her sweet face which he reached to wipe away. ‘Because you’re my Little Bunny. All mine. You asked last night why you weren’t told how good you could feel, remember?’ She nodded. ‘You weren’t told so that they could control you. You’re almost an adult and no one told you about anything, that’s wrong and cruel and dangerous! You gave yourself to me last night and I am going to spend the rest of our lives worshipping my girl like a Princess…you still love me…don’t you?’

‘Yes! Of course I do Klaus! I love you so much but my father will never let me be with you! He doesn’t care what I want, he will choose my husband once I graduate-‘

‘Y/n, you’ve already chosen. You’re 18, an adult, able to make your own choices. No one can tell you what to do anymore unless you want them to…we can go. Go back to the school, pack your things, I’ll quit my job and we can be together.’ Klaus knew when he looked at her curious eyes that he had her, he was going to make this happen and the best part is Y/n will think she made her own decision for the first time ever.

‘But what about your job? We’ll go live together with no income? I won’t have a diploma so I can’t get a job to-‘

‘You will never have a job!’ Klaus swore and she looked startled. ‘I have plenty of money, I’m an artist, I sell my work all the time. I worked in that school because…because I fell in love with you. I know it’s crazy, of course it is but I couldn’t leave you Y/n! You were already my everything…please tell me you’ll come with me? I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted! A wonderful house on acres and acres of woods and privacy, no one to bother us…except maybe my siblings on occasion but they’ll love you! Your parents won’t be able to control you anymore. You can wear what you want, anything you want, eat what you want, read, write, study, learn whatever you want! I’ll give you jewelry and silk sheets, a maid, the library you always talk about wanting, I can-‘

‘I just want you…’ Klaus’ eyes widened at her soft words. ‘I don’t need all that fancy stuff if I have you…don’t get me wrong, it sounds wonderful but can…can you promise me you’ll never leave me? That it will always be us for the rest of forever?’

He smirked at that, knowing instantly that the deal was sealed, Y/n is all his. ‘Forever and a day my precious girl. I love you so much, and we’re going to be so happy together.’ Y/n grinned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to hers in a wonderful, needy kiss. ‘I’m going to make you scream in pleasure every night until you can’t remember your own name anymore, Bunny.’

She pulled back from his lips, peeking up at him with a shy look. ‘Daddy’s gonna give me babies?’

And just like that his cock was so hard he felt like a teenager again, desperately horny with an erection that won’t quit. Y/n is going to be full of him there’s no way she won’t end up carrying his child and he already has plans to speak to a witch about ensuring it. ‘Daddy’s going to fill you with babies everyday, every single day until it takes. Gonna keep you so full you won’t know what it’s like to be empty anymore…in fact, we should fill you up before we go get your things, shouldn’t we?’ Y/n squealed as Klaus lifted her, sitting her onto his lap and holding her up with one arm around her waist as he lined his cock up with her dripping hole. ‘Already soaking wet for Daddy, my needy little whore. So perfect-‘ She gasped loudly, looking down at him in desperation.

‘Not a whore Daddy! I’m not! I would never-‘

‘No, Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay Princess, My whore. Daddy’s whore, My girl who will do all the wonderful, depraved things Daddy wants you to. Do you understand? Not A whore, My whore. Any other cock comes anywhere near you I’ll cut it off and stick it up their ass.’ He pushed his cock up into her and she whined, still a bit sore from last night but feeling too good to care.

They ended up staying in bed for another 4 hours, Klaus filling his girl 3 more times before taking a nap together. Getting to the school and compelling the Dean was arguably too easy and they were long gone before Y/n’s parents ever came looking for her. It’s not like they would want her back with how badly Klaus had corrupted her.

Their little girl was gone.

She’s Klaus’ Little Bunny now.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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