#kid!reader

Goddammit, you never felt this small before. Sure, all hybrids are twice or thrice your size, but why do you feel this way only now that you were standing in front of Johnny's kneeled down form?

He was kneeling down. Kneeling down. And was still bigger than you standing up.

He was large too. All of them were, really. Men as buff as them naturally had large bodies—it was impossible not to notice that their arms were as thick as your torso.

So....

How exactly were you supposed to fight with him?

It's a play fight, just a play fight, but still, you didn't know what to do. This was insane, how could someone like you fight with a werewolf his size...? And he wanted you to "mess him up"??

You should've suggest playing UNO instead, this is torture.

"Mhm.... I-I... dunno what to do...?" You mumble, uncertain. Your eyes flick to his form—the way excitement buzzes through him, his tail wagging fast behind him, ears pressed flat against his head. His toothy smile never wavering.

Big canines too, bigger than Ghost's.

"It's easy, lassie." He cooed, voice more controlled and calmer than what his body language was showing. "Come on, ya trust papa, right? Papa will never hurt ye."

"I don't know how to fight...." You insist, frowning a little in worry, still shuffling quietly in front of him.

“Don’ have tae. Wha’ does a wee pup ken?” He snickers, rolling his eyes as his accent gets stronger out of nowhere. “Ah just like ma kids messin’ me up! Ye can bite, scratch, or anythin’ else, really. Ah can take anythin’, ye wee runt!”

You hesitate, still looking over his form in worry and confusion. You didn't even move from your position, just holding onto your hoodie as you rubbed your socked feet with each other.

Johnny’s excited, competitive demeanor softened a bit as he sized you up, his tail wagging less and his ears perking up again.

“C’mere, puppy, c’mere… pstpst, it’s alrigh’…” He cooed gently, beckoning you closer with a small hand gesture. “Come tae papa, he’ll teach ye everythin’, aye?”

You blushed in embarrassment at his attitude, letting out a quiet sigh as you approached, still clutching the sleeves of your hoodie.

He immediately flashed you a big, toothy grin—sincere, yet still intimidating. His dangerous demeanor remained as scary as ever. Honestly? He looked kinda insane.

And then—

Big hands grabbed you, making you gasp in surprise as he took you down onto the mat. Technically, he just kinda grabbed you and eased you onto your back, but still—you weren’t expecting it! It was fast.

“Down ye go.” He smiled in a terrifying mix of gentleness and smugness. “Now what, wee bonnie baby?” His tone was pure challenge.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, frozen for a few seconds. His big palm rested gently on your chest, fingers spread just enough to frame your neck as he held both your shoulders down with one hand, caging you in. His feral eyes and sharp grin never wavered as he loomed over you, kneeling like a true predator.

You breathed in shakily at the thought, both small hands coming up to grasp his wrist, trying to gently push his hand away. Your legs curling up close to your chest.

“Don’ let him pin ya down.”

Ghost’s voice immediately caught your attention, making you turn your head on the mat to glance at him sideways on the edge of the mat. He stood with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face, watching closely.

“Aye, runt, why’re ye lettin’ me pin ye down?” Soap teased again, one of his fingers gently rubbing your cheek from where he held you against the mat.

You bit your lip at the provocation, anxiety creeping back in. You pushed with a bit more force, trying to make his hand move, but weakened your grip when he laughed mockingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to yours.

“Look at this… nae claws at all, such cute wee fingers… trimmed nails and all, eh, wee baby? Price was talkin’ ‘bout ye humans… how we’ve gotta keep ye groomed right—short nails on hands an’ feet, brushed wee teeth, and trimmed hair… are all humans frail wee thingies like ye, runt?” He snickered, a broad, teasing smile stretched across his face.

"Big talk for a dirty mutt." Ghost joined in, voice low and raspy as he steaped on the mat, feet covered in black socks.

You immediately tensed up in worry at his tone, eyes widening as your body locked up. It sounded harsh, and for a moment, you genuinely feared they might start arguing right then and there.

But...

Johnny just laughed it off, his smile still wide, his hand still pressing you down against the mat as he kept an eye on Simon entering the mat from his peripheral vision.

“Are ye gonna get in the way, Si?” Soap asked menacingly, tilting his head slightly, baring his teeth at the other man.

“No. I don’t plan on fightin’ ya. I’m here for the kid.” he answered simply, dropping heavily to his knees by your side. "Come on, fledgling. His fingers are wide spread, tuck your hands under them."

You blinked up at him, stunned for a few seconds, before quickly glancing back at Johnny’s hand. Letting go of his wrist, you forced your hands under his fingers, slowly but surely lifting it off your shoulders and chest.

Sure, Johnny wasn’t putting much strength behind it, and he was still cooing at you the whole time, but you managed to take his hand off of you, only for Simon to roughly shove Johnny down onto the mat.

“Hey!” Soap laughed, falling onto his back, his elbows holding his body up.

"Go, up, come on." Simon nudged you, pushing your sitted form in Johnny's direction gently.

You got to your feet, slightly unsteady, feeling the gentle push of his hand that made you tumble on top of Soap, who was just staring at you with a smile.

“Hurt him. Go for his neck.” Ghost instructed, arms crossed as he watched you both.

“Wi’ these wee hands?” Soap cooed mockingly, his hand coming up to gently grab yours and rub with his thumb.

Ghost sighed quietly at your lack of reaction, watching you sit on top of Soap’s waist, your hand held in his, looking uncertain. Truly, zero instincts with this one.

“Gaz was right… it really does feel like when we had only newborns.” Soap laughed quietly, messing slightly with your hand, moving it around. “Ah used tae put them on ma chest for tummy time, too.”

You frowned slightly in confusion at that, head tilting slightly to the side.

"What's that...?"

“Oh, it’s—Ah mean…”

Even though Johnny was still smiling, he frowned a bit too, apparently caught off guard by your question. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. For a moment, it even seemed like pity crossed his face too.

“It’s when ye put babies on a soft surface, belly to the ground, and leave ‘em there. Helps ‘em strengthen their bodies so they can start crawling later on,” Ghost explained calmly, pushing you up slightly higher against Soap. “Now, come on, try to hurt him. He can take it.”

You still hesitated at that, unsure about actually trying to hurt one of your foster parents. Still, you sighed quietly before grabbing the hand that was holding yours and pushing against Johnny's face, hearing him laugh.

"Yeah, that's not going to do much." Ghost commented dryly.

Before you could say anything else, you let out a small, surprised yelp as Soap suddenly switched places with you, grabbing your small body effortlessly and getting on top of you once again, big grin still plastered on his stupid smiling face.

This time, at least, you managed to place your feet against his chest, pushing him slightly away from your body.

"Ya ken, Price's always liked a rough fight," Soap chuckled, a smug smile on his face as his big hand wrapped around your calf. "Me too, o' course, but he's even more violent than me, if ye believe it. Big bastard roughed up everyone as a soldier, an' let all the kids rough him up right back as a parent. He loves it."

"To be fair, most of us do." Ghost nodded from his place on the mat.

"But how does a wee thing like ye plan to do it if ye dinnae even try?"

At that, your leg was quickly pulled back, your body dragged across the mat as you let out a small shriek, only to immediately laugh right after when Soap stopped pulling you by the leg.

Actually, you were so busy giggling in a mix of surprise and excitement that you didn’t notice Johnny and Simon looking at you with surprise and contentment. It took them a bit, but they finally managed to make you actually laugh.

And what a cute laugh you had.

"Guys, come on up, Price still wants to check if her cold's gone away and watch a movie!" Kyle called out from the stairs, smiling gently at the scene.

"Heard that, lass? Hope ye like cartoons, ‘cause we love ‘em!" Johnny smiled excitedly, helping you up onto your little feet.

"I actually developed a liking for them after bein' forced to watch thousands of different ones as our kids grew up," Ghost commented, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Coco's very nice. Would ya like to see it, kid?"

"I'm... not sure...." You mumble, not recognizing the name.

"Yer gonna love it, lassie! Ah guarantee!"

summary: Jason spends a day with the kid he picked up off the streets (wonder where he got the from) and realizes that maybe he can give this kid a better life

a/n: this part seems so much better than the first part in my eyes lol, so I do hope people at least read this one. FINAL PART.

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Jason didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to keep you. Hell he didn't even know what he was doing.

Right now he had you sat on his small leather couch in front of the tv, big eyes staring as some random action movie played.

It had been three days since he declared to Bruce that he wasn't letting you go before storming out of the batcave.

You still hadn't said a word since.

Normally that would have worried Jason but you seemed oddly…content. As if not talking was usual for you. Perhaps it was.

Mute kids were pretty common with what went on in Gotham. Too scarred to say a word. Not knowing what would happen if they spoke up.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he'd make sure you knew this was a safe place. Then you could decide from there if talking was worth it.

He watched you carefully as he made a couple sandwiches for you both. Still not fully sure how he was going to patrol with you here.

There's no way he'd just leave you but taking you with him wasn't an option either.

So many questions flooded his head about you. Some he was sure he wouldn't even get an answer to.

His only "parenting style" was going to be giving you what he has a kid needed. Love. Comfort. Reassurance. Protection. And above all, kindness.

Unfortunately those concepts still felt foreign at times. If he didn't get those things for the majority of his childhood, how the hell was he supposed to raise someone else with those.

A heavy sigh left his mouth as the overthinking began to hurt his head. One moment at a time.

His socked feet were soft against the wood flooring of his apartment. Only creaking slightly in the same place it always did as he passed the coffee table.

You felt the couch dip slightly and turned your gaze over to where he was now sitting next to you. Placing the plate with a simple sandwich on it directly on your lap.

"You don't seem to picky but you can let me know if you don't like anything."

Jason's voice was muffled through the sandwich, making a small smile grow on your face.

His eyebrow quirked immediately at the smile. That was new.

"What you think that's funny?" The muffled voice through the food had quirked up a bit in question. His own lips lifting slightly at the ends.

Small giggles continued to leave your mouth as you looked away.

Jason wasn't going to push you further, just in case. One moment at a time.

For a while you guys sat together. Letting the movie play on as you both slowly ate. Well, you mostly, Jason clearly was not a slow eater.

Every once in a while you'd glance over to the man who took you in a promised a proper place to grow, and he'd already have half a sandwich stuffed in his face, still taking another bite.

You'd giggle quietly again and he'd look at you confused.

"There anything you wanna do kid? I know this place hasn't been the most entertaining."

For a moment you just sat there. A few ideas and thoughts running through your mind as you looked around the place.

When your eyes stopped moving, Jason followed your gaze. A small pile of books had been piled up in the corner of the room.

Most of them were old and worn down. He had habit of getting them second hand or he'd just had them for so long they were starting to show their love.

"You like books?"

A small shrug from you. Jason was pretty sure you didn't know how to read, which was fine. Listening was usually how one started anyways.

He made his way over to the pile, picking up of course his favourite copy of pride and prejudice.

It had annotations and sticky notes all over it. Years of his thoughts built up and out into one book just like the author herself when she was writing it.

When he sat back down beside you, you leaned in curiously as he opened the book.

How quickly you were entranced in the whole thing the second he started reading. Jason's voice was rough and probably not what you expected. It was clear he was used to reading in his head.

But part of it felt so special. No one had taken the time to teach you to read let alone read for you just for fun.

Here Jason was though. Settling into a situation he could have never predicted he'd be in, reading to a young child that he only wanted the best for.

Only half an hour passed when Jason looked down in the middle of reading, noticing you had gone still.

Your eyes were closed and you were tucked close against him. You looked calm again. Not afraid or nervous of anything.

Maybe he could do this.

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Sorry if this is long, just wanted to share a silly/angsty idea of a child not understanding how it is not normal to be uncaring if you die or not. Also I'd say the reader is specifically a boy but it's up to you! I just think mischievous little boys are the funniest things ever

“It’s Okay, I’ll Come Back”

Summary: Dan Heng finds your corpse at the bottom of the Astral Express’s staircase—and watches, horrified, as you get back up like it’s nothing. You’re the youngest Nameless on the crew, a chaotic, spell-bound child from an unknown planet where death is more of an inconvenience than a limit. You can’t die. Not really. That’s your magic. Your curse. Your job. But when the rest of the crew starts breaking under the weight of your immortality, you begin to realize—maybe dying isn’t the only way to hurt someone.

Tags: Astral Express Crew x Reader, Male!Kid!Reader, Found Family, Angst with Comfort, Near-Death Experiences, Unreliable Narrator, Soft Hurt/Comfort, Reader is a Menace, Trauma (Implied/Discussed), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Themes, Protective Dan Heng, Sad March 7th, Slow Realization of Self-Worth.

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injury/death (non-permanent), Casual attitude toward death from a child character, Immortality used as coping mechanism, Emotional distress (March, Himeko, Dan Heng), Mild body horror (dislocations, blood, unnatural movements), Child endangerment (narrative context, not glorified), Discussions of self-worth tied to usefulness, Light mentions of magical experimentation (offscreen).

A/N: Aww thank you!! Tho, I have never watched South Park, so forgive me if it's not up to your liking. 😭🙏

Dan Heng finds the body first.

In the quiet of a sunny afternoon in Monaco, the Verstappen-Piquet household was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Max was on a team debrief in the kitchen, Kelly was on the balcony sipping her iced coffee, and the sim room—Max’s sacred, high-tech, strictly-off-limits man cave—sat unguarded.

Which meant exactly one thing.

An 8 year old Penelope, peeked around the corner with a conspiratorial grin. Behind her, Y/N—barely 4, dressed in a too-big Red Bull hoodie and gripping a half-eaten stroopwafel—tiptoed with intense determination.

“You ready?” P whispered.

Y/N nodded. “Ready.”

“Remember, you do the wheel. I do the petals.”

“Okay. I be fast.”

“No, we be fast.”

The two girls quietly pushed the slightly ajar door open, the glow from the sim rig blinking like a magical treasure chest.

They slipped inside.

Penelope clambered into the rig like a pro—Max had let her look at it before, but never touch. She slipped her feet toward the pedals, eyes wide with reverence. “I’m gonna press the gas like crazy.”

Y/N nodded and wiggled up onto P's lap, gripping the steering wheel like she knew how to win a championship. “I turn bigggg.”

“Okay, let’s go!”

Penelope tapped the ignition key and Y/N dramatically twisted the wheel left and right. “Vroom! VROOOOM!”

And suddenly—it was all very real.

Penelope stomped a pedal. “GOOOOO!”

Y/N shrieked in delight, spinning the wheel. “We winning!! GO GO GO!!”

From the kitchen, Max frowned.

“Wait. What’s that noise?”

Kelly froze mid-sip. “…No.”

Max took off running. “Oh no.”

When he threw the door open, he found:

—His two daughters —In his prized sim seat —Y/N steering like a madwoman, —Penelope mashing pedals like it was Whac-a-Mole —And both of them dead serious.

“GIRLS—!”

Penelope’s head snapped up. “PAPAAA!”

Y/N gasped. “OH-OH.”

Max rushed over, scooping Y/N up as she giggled wildly in his arms. “Wat zijn jullie aan het doen?!“ (“What are you two doing?!“)

“We were racingggg!” Y/N cheered, throwing her arms up.

Penelope climbed down, all smug. “I was the gas. She was the wheel. We were a team.”

Max stared at them, torn between horror and pure dad-melt mode.

“Mijn kleine gans,” (“My little goose,”) he muttered, kissing Y/N’s cheek. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Y/N squished his cheeks. “I go vroom like you!”

“And you, kleine eend,” (“And you, little duck,”) he said to Penelope. “You’re too clever for your own good.”

Penelope grinned. “You always say racing is teamwork.”

Max looked at Kelly, now filming in the doorway, completely losing it.

“I meant in real cars, not in my €40,000 simulator.”

Y/N leaned into his chest, eyes sparkling. “Can we race again tomorrow?”

Max groaned.

“…Only if I’m on your team next time.”

Penelope grinned. “Then you press the gas, Papa.”

Kelly zoomed in, whispering, “Caption: Verstappen's girls steal the sim, win Monaco Grand Prix.”

Max shook his head with a sigh, bouncing Y/N in his arms. “My little goose and little duck are too dangerous.”

But deep down?

He was just a little bit proud.

Kid!reader, Toddler!reader, baby!reader, child!reader, teen!reader, platonic!reader, Daughter!reader, son!reader, sister!reader, brother!reader. I DONT CARE, JUST GIVE THEM TOO ME‼️

this is gonna be multiple parts!! potentially a series or something idk

kid!reader

ler!Grace, lee!reader

summary: reader has been alive in coma since Grace woke up. He didn’t know how to wake them, so when they finally wake up, he can’t wait to have another human around.

———

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Grace says to the panicked teen in the coma bed. “You’re- you’re waking up from a coma. Try to stay calm.”