#WAILING SOBBING SCREAMING CLUTCHING MY HEAD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[baeshijima]

OH MY GOD DEHYA TRAILER PV WAS TODAY"??"?fsd?fsd?!?$"!??$£

[avtrbee]

never

summary: nobara and itadori asks megumi about the biggest fight y/n and gojo ever had

tw: abandonment issues (?)

please feel free to leave comments of criticism! i'd love to hear from you :> enjoy the fic !!

my masterlist

It seemed like the entire Jujutsu High School seemed to freeze in cold when Y/N and Gojo-sensei walked past each other near the training grounds. They were usually attached at the hip in the school as both were teachers and...well, they were married. They looked like lovesick fools on campus, but mainly Gojo sneaking kisses at any chance he got and Y/N silently letting him. No one missed the small smile of fondness on Y/N’s face every time.

“Oi,” whispered Itadori, nudging his shoulder. “Will they be okay? Y/N-sensei’s face looks so cold.”

“Yeah,” agreed Megumi without hesitation. This wasn’t his first experience of seeing a lovers quarrel- they practically raised him after all. He and Tsumiki always had the front row seats on Gojo’s tantrums and Y/N’s stubbornness. “They’ll get over it.”

“Hah?” Nobara poked his shoulder. “You seem pretty confident, Fushiguro.”

“Well, it’s not like this was their worst fight…”

“Huh, I never knew them to fight frequently. They always looked so in love that fighting seemed out of the picture. What was their worst fight like Megumi? Were you there?” asked Itadori.

Oh, he was there. He remembered every second of the week-long fight- the longest it ever lasted. Megumi didn’t even remember what it was about- the laundry? Stress? He really didn’t care about the specifics. From that point, Megumi has seen Y/N and Gojo have little arguments with a few ending up in screaming matches. They were always mindful to scream when he and Tsumiki were out of earshot, but they caught bits and pieces nonetheless. They were always greeted with a sleeping Y/N cuddled up with Gojo on their sofa the next day, anyway.

But this...this was something else. It was serious. It got so bad that Gojo even packed up a suitcase filled with his clothes and slammed their front door, going away from who knows where.

The house felt frozen like it was winter, similar to how Jujutsu Highschool felt now. All three of them looked at the door silently, expecting, praying, that Gojo would come back with a goofy smile calling his actions a prank, making everyone sigh in relief. But a few minutes passed by, and the door still hadn't opened.

It was Tsumiki that broke the deafening silence first. “Will- will you l-leave too, Y/N-san?”

Megumi and Y/N’s heads whipped to the girl. Tsumiki, always the bigger sister, was trying to keep a straight face, quickly wiping away the tears that were falling down her cheeks. There was a smile on her face as if trying to convince everyone that it's okay- it’s okay if Y/N leaves. Just like her mom, just like his dad. Y/N walked three great strides towards his sister and shoved her a little too aggressively to her stomach.

“No.” she croaked. Y/N raised her head to look away from them, presumably to cry. She never liked crying, much more people seeing her cry.

Megumi has always looked at Tsumiki as the older sister she was, always caring for him, fussing around him with a motherlike intent. But the sight of Tsumiki’s arms tightly secured around Y/N’s waist while sobbing into her shirt was the youngest Megumi has ever seen his sister.

He gets it. He does. Megumi might be nine but he was the first to realize that his dad and Tsumiki’s mom were never coming back. He realized this quickly, too. The slam of the door, a parental figure walking past without ever looking back...he and Tsumiki have seen this sight way too many times.

There was anger in his chest, both directed at himself and at Gojo. Did he trust too quickly? It was only two years since Y/N and Gojo took them out of the cramped apartment they called home, two years since he’s been eating take out and home-cooked meals for dinner instead of leftovers of a restaurant, two years since he and Tsumiki hadn’t slept on a thin mattress on the floor. He got too complacent, and this is where it got him.

Megumi’s heart ached, and all he feels is anger- anger towards Gojo for leaving, anger towards Tsumiki for caring, and anger towards Y/N for taking them in and making him trust again. He got too carried away with all the privileges and assurances they showered them with that Megumi didn’t even think it would go away. How stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He’ll miss this, he thinks. Megumi will miss coming home to an occasional hot meal that Y/N would cook if she arrived home early. He would miss the weekly shopping trips they would go to- Megumi barely wanted anything, content at staring at the stores and observing Tsumiki and Gojo buy clothes for everyone. Megumi would miss Disneyland- he had only been there once but Gojo saw the excitement in his and Tsumiki’s eyes that he promised he’ll take them there again. He would miss Gojo carrying him out of spite, despite being too tall and holding his hand as they walked to stores despite him acting like he hated every second of it. He’ll miss the way his heart would swell every time an old lady would call them a cute family and the way-

“Megumi.” His head snapped to Y/N whose eyes were red and sad. “You’re crying.”

Megumi lifted his palm to hold his cheek and sure enough, he managed to catch a tear from rolling down his chin. He didn’t even realize he was crying, which made him angrier. He wanted to tear this place he called home for two years apart with one of his dogs, leave and never come back-

From Y/N’s stomach, Tsumiki peaked at him and held out her hand. Y/N placed a comforting hand on her head before giving Megumi a sad smile. It was then Megumi let all of his anger flow through his tears, he was ashamed of even thinking of leaving- Y/N just said she wouldn’t leave them, and he believed her. He felt more tears roll down his cheeks and he let himself wail, scream, and shout for the entire world to hear. He ran like a child to Tsumiki’s hands and to Y/N’s comforting hug and screamed more.

He didn’t know how long they cried together but at the end of the night, they were all tucked in a corner, Tsumiki and Megumi snuggled at Y/N’s sides.

They were comfortable at that, but Y/N insisted on getting up and getting ready for bed. She ushered the both of them to the shower and brushed her teeth with them. There was silence as they did their tasks, exhausted from silently crying and Megumi from throwing a fit with his wails.

It wasn’t until Tsumiki was buttoning the last button of his pajamas when they heard their doorbell ring an absurd amount of times. It didn’t have the intention to stop until someone opened the door.

“I’ll get it,” announced Y/N, her voice croaking from disuse. Megumi remembered watching Y/N figure walk to their doorway, then finally opening the door.

Behind it was Gojo with eyes as red as theirs, holding a bouquet of flowers on one hand and two paper bags on the other. He raised his gifts to them with shaking hands.

Megumi would have laughed at his sight, Gojo had snot coming out of his nose, his eyes were filled with tears, lips trembling. But the fact that Gojo’s blindfold was off, giving an impression that Gojo was serious.

“I-“ Gojo sniffed. “I meant to come back earlier, I didn’t mean it- it’s just the higher-ups gave me a mission to Europe as soon as I closed the door-“ Gojo breathed deeply, eyes darting at the three of them. Behind him was the suitcase he packed, untouched on their doorstep.

“-I teleported, I finished it as soon as I could, and-“

-

“Fushiguro?”

Megumi flinched backward at the sudden sight of Itadori’s hand waving in front of his face. He was suddenly pulled out of his memory, blinking several times to adjust to his new reality. “Sorry, I spaced out…”

“Well?” Nobara prompted, putting her hands on her waist. “What was their biggest fight?”

The expression on her face was similar to those she wore before she threw a fit of impatience. He wasn’t really in a mood to explicitly describe the emotional toll their fight took from all of them, nor was he willing to suddenly open up about his abandonment issues and how a Gojo going out and not coming back until three hours later triggered something in him and Tsumiki. After Y/N hugged Gojo, Megumi remembered racing against Tsumiki towards the white-haired man at their door, each of them clutching one of his legs.

Megumi trusts Itadori and Nobara...he just wasn’t there yet. He’ll tell them someday he thinks, he’ll tell them everything.

Megumi looked at Y/N and Gojo-sensei again and was pleased by what he saw. A small smile graced his face as he pointed towards the couple. “It ended just like that.”

Itadori and Nobara turned their heads towards the direction of the couple. From their position, they could see Gojo clutching a bouquet of flowers while audibly sobbing his apologies while Y/N tackled him into a hug.

[scaramouche-bully]

THAT POST ABOUT OVERSTIM MADE ME REALIZE HOW MUCH I WANT TO DESTROY CHILDE HELP. CAN U WRITE SMTH WHERE HIS S/O USUALLY BOTTOMS BUT WANTS TO TRY TOPPING HIM AND HE JUST KEEPS TRYING TO FLUSTER HER AND TEASE HER AND SHE GETS SO ANNOYED THAT SHE JUST FUCKS HIM STUPID 💕💕

— ☆ Wrecking T*rtaglia headcanons

Includes: Childe

[ Top ] Female reader

Contains: Overstimulation, bratty sub, mind break, sub space, aphrodisiacs, anal gaping, dacryphilia, degradation, size kink, slapping, choking, cock-stepping, humiliation, rough sex, stomach bulge, multiple orgasms, masochism + sadism.

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Xiao, Childe, and Scaramouche 🐏 [ GN ]  

— ☆ Bratty Sub headcanons - Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, and Childe 🐑 [ GN ]

[ masterlist ]

Welcome to the "Bully T*rtaglia" club, we are currently taking applications (u‿ฺu✿ฺ). My original draft was sweet but then my computer crashed and I lost everything. So I'm going to channel all my anger into destroying this man (consensually, I promise the ending is soft.).

— ☆ Childe

When you bring up the idea of you topping him, he doesn't take you seriously but he's open to it. While he thinks it's cute that you want to try new things, he's so much bigger than you, and being on top is actually a lot of work compared to being a pillow princess. Are you sure you can handle it?

One of the big issues that came up during your first times was Childe's competitive nature and how fast his recovery time was. He could have came three times and then suddenly flip you on your back and fuck your brains out instead.

Even when he had the patience to be the sub, he would constantly taunt you and be an insufferable brat. Constantly disrespecting you and trying to fluster you. Always reaching down to finger fuck you even when he was stuffed full.

So the next time you brought him a drink, you decided to add something extra. Sitting patiently as he thanked you and downed the entire cup. It only took a few minutes before he began to squirm in his seat.

Childe's face was slowly growing redder and redder, soft pants breaking through the quiet office, his eyes darting to you before settling on the ground. It was amusing seeing him be so quiet rather than running his mouth off every minute. It's only when you start to walk over him in feign concern does he break out of his haze.

Stumbling over himself as he makes wild hand gestures to stop you but as soon as you round his desk, you see his cock straining against his pants, and the embarrassment flood Childe's face. Trying to laugh it off, you're just so pretty he can't help himself, but he's quickly cut off when you prop yourself up onto his desk and step on his cock.

"W-Wait-" Childe groans as his hips buck into your shoe as he grinds against it. Clutching the hand rests of his chair as he leans his head against your knee, soft keens slipping out as you run your fingers through his matted hair as he humps against you. He makes a confused noise when you suddenly tip his chin up, smile sweetly at him, before he's sprawled on the ground as you slap him.

"When did I say you could touch me?" you shot him a cruel look that sent shudders up his spine but also made his cock throb. Whatever you fed him was slowly making him lose his senses until there was just you, you, you. He whines, still on his back, when you take a seat in his chair and dig your shoe onto his dick, randomly applying pressure here and there, his pre-cum wetting his pants as he yelps at the pain. His hands flying up to lift your foot away but he catches himself as chooses to claw his fingers into the wooden flooring instead as he reaches his peak. It's so empowering seeing the man who used to fuck you stupid, whimper and cry as he cums in his pants just from you stepping on his dick.

"P-Please...ah! mm...wha?" Childe looks down confused to see that even after just orgasming, his cock is still hard. His body is so hot that if he doesn't cum again, he feels like he's going to die. He's tries to lift himself onto his elbows and unbutton his pants before you kick him in the chest and send him back down. He's disorientated from the fall when he feels you sit on his chest, cupping his face in your hands to lift him, before slamming his head down. You're almost ripping his hair out with every yank and slap you abuse him with as he yelps like a dog.

"You filthy whore. Did I say you could cum? You ungrateful brat," you spit out as Childe wails in pain, almost knocking you off when he seizes up and shakes. You don't even need to check to know he came again, "Maybe I should gag you and throw you onto the streets. Let everyone here know how much of a pig you are. Is that it what you want?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" his voice is choked up from his tears as he cries over himself. You almost feel bad but he's basically useless in this state, sniffling over himself as he apologizes over and over again. You softly coo at him as you lean over and kiss him sweetly, taking his arms and placing them on your waist as he grips onto you like a lifeline.

"There there Childe. It's alright now, we're going to teach you how to be a good boy. That's what you want right?" you whisper to him as he nods. You pull yourself up even as he grips onto your clothing to stay with him as you unclasp the buttons of his pants and free his cock. Still red and hard in your hands as if he hadn't already orgasmed twice in the span of a few minutes. He's already so wet with pre-come that you don't even need to find lube to jack him off. Ignoring his moans and screams to stop, he's still sensitive, you take him to the hilt in your mouth. Quickly pinning his hips from jerking upwards and choking you, you're the image of content as you swallow around his cock as Childe throws his head back and sobs as he cums down your throat.

“Pl-please, please, mmn- put it in me, please…” he manages to pant you, his mind melted as his eyes blink in and out of consciousness. His body is still burning hot and he can't escape the feeling of being empty. He wants to be filled with your cock, stuffed fill until he can't live without being fucked by you. You've completely ruined him.

"It seems we still have a long way to go. You really are a disappointment Childe," you sigh as you wipe away the stray cum dripping from your mouth as you reach over and feed it to him. He whines low in the throat at tasteing himself but feeling you touch him in some way is the only thing grounding him before you pull away and stand up, "Go on. Finger yourself open for me."

"W-Wha?"

"Childe. I said. Finger yourself open. I won't repeat myself again."

He quickly nods, not ready to disobey you again, as he lifts himself up to get his pants fully off. He knows what you want and it makes the fire in him burn hotter. Using his own pre-come with shaky hands, he reaches over to hold his legs up for you, and circles around his rim before dipping inside. The embarrassment of holding himself open like this and your watchful gaze almost has him cumming again but he can't. He wants to be good. He does his best to spread himself open at this awkward angle but he soon loses himself. He should feel ashamed for getting off on someone watching him but it makes him finger himself deeper and harder. He's taken out of his pleasurable moment when he feels your hand join his. Taking one hand as you spread his ass to see his loose hole. The pre-cum from his cock slowly leaking down. You're absentmindedly lacing your fingers inside him, before pulling both your hands out as you line your strap on to his rim. He didn't even notice you put it on.

"Did you know I had to fake every orgasm because you were such a sloppy fuck? Perhaps I should show you how to fuck someone properly," is the only warning he gets before you grip his hips until your fingernails draw blood, before slamming into him. He throws his head back and chokes on his screams as his cock shoots cum all over his chest.

"Who said you could come?" you spit out as you grip his cock and squeeze harshly as he screams. The overstimulation is too much, it hurts. He's desperately trying to push you away but whatever strength he built is lost. Only able to lay there and take it. He looks down to see his stomach bulge with every thrust you make, the image of you rearranging his insides sends him flying as he tries to cum again but the death grip you have on him, he just can't. He's full-on sobbing as you continue to abuse his prostate, he's going to break, you're breaking him.

"nO! P-PLEASE! STO-" he begging as you continue to pound into him. You push even further, until your cock fully inside him now, and stay there rubbing right up against his prostate. Watching amused as Childe tries to shudder to the large intrusion, the never-ending pressure on his sensitive spots makes him almost feral. You swear he has hearts in his eyes right now.

"Pleasepleaseplease-"

You pull out slowly, just until the tip is inside him, before gripping his wrists as leverage and ruthless slamming into him. Childe parts his hips in a voiceless cry as you finally break his mind and fuck him dumb. He scrambles against the floor as he tries to find anything to ground him, trying to fuck himself back on your cock as he drools all over the floor. His vision leaves him as all his senses focused on the harsh drag of your cock in him, the wet slapping noise that fills the room, and the tears that slip from his eyes down to the floor. His cock throbs with each thrust you force into his body, thighs jerking, as his tongue lolls out.

"Oh!--mh, m-more!" Childe babbles deliriously, he's being reduced to nothing but a warm hole for you to fill whenever you feel like it. Reduced from a harbinger to a whore for you to use. He feels the breath get punched out of his lungs as his abdomen stretches and burns. His hole clenching around your dick that you have to forcefully yank him down to stuff him, "Hahh, you're tearing me o-open."

"You disgusting whore. Can you feel it?" you mock as you take one hand to spread his ass apart, you see his hole is red and puffy, pre-cum from his semi-hard cock leaking down where you're both connected. He shudders that you've fucked him so bad that his hole is gaping. It's when you reach over and clasp both of your hands around his neck and squeeze that he comes crashing down. Wheezing at the lack of oxygen that makes him see white, he feels so warm and content, mind filled with bliss, as he cums. Waves upon waves of pleasure crash into him as his cock finally softens as he relaxes and drifts off into space before slowly losing consciousness.

--- You slowly blink awake to soft kisses being placed on your neck, Childe's lazy form cuddled up to you as you stroke his hair. He's always so clingy the morning after. "Are you feeling alright? I was a bit mean wasn't I?" you ask a bit embarrassed as memories of last night flood your mind. You know you both agreed on what your limits were but you couldn't help but feel a bit worried you may have pushed him too far. Childe props himself on his elbow to smile dumbly at you, you were perfect.

"It was alright I suppose," he chuckles when you lightly punch him in the chest, "I didn't think you would try and drug me like that. You know I could get you arrested for that. " "Ha! Good luck finding someone that will fulfill your perverted fantasies. Besides you're the one that wanted to experiment with them and don't phrase it like that either," you shake your head at him before leaning up to kiss him. When you pull away you take notice of all the bruises and marks you left on him. There's a small part of you that purrs at the claim you made but you quickly shoo it away. It's too early for that. If your back is hurting you have no idea how Childe is faring. "Here, let me get you some water and let me see your head," you offer, pulling yourself up before Childe's arm wraps around you and pulls you down to lay beside him. Placing his weight on top of you so you can't squirm away, even as you swat at his back he smothers you until you give up.

"Stay with me."

"Hah...alright. Just for a bit."

[clouds-rambles]

hello!~ o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

can i request headcanons for kaeya, diluc, childe, and venti on what they would while their s/o dies in their arms? (if thats okay with u <3)

thank u sm! :))

BESTIE THE PAIN I FEEL RN!!! Omw to make hurt some of my faves hope you enjoy <3

Also guys I’ve been here for a day how are there almost 50 of you following?!

Pairings; (Separate) Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Venti x reader

Warning(s); hurt, big hurty, reader death, vague wound description, cursing, talk about dead bodies

Keep reading under the cut!

Kaeya

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were meant to live forever with him. You were supposed to grow old with him and become a parent to your future children. You were-

“Kaeya” you choke out smiling at your partner above you. The man shakes his head mentally pleading with you to not die “Kaeya I will always be on the wind” you tell him, a shaky, bloody hand raised to his cheek to weekly caress it

“Please” he pleads “Please don’t die on me [name]” you smile at him feeling the breaths in your lungs disappear

“I’m sorry Kae--ya” you apologise before passing away in his arms

He doesn’t move for a long time. He doesn’t feel for a long time. The one person he could share his secrets and his love to gone. Away with the wind

Kaeya doesn’t remember the last time he cried, but he’ll remember this one. 

Your beaten, bruised, broken, dead, and beautiful body slumped in his arms as his tears fall from his face as he feels an absence in his heart

How is he supposed to live on if this is the pain he feels right now?

Jean eventually stumbles upon Kaeya out in the wilds, still clutched to your now cold and even more lifeless body

Jean manages to get the man up with your body held close to his chest

“Jean, I can’t, I can’t let them go” he pleads as if he’s waiting for you to simply wake up in his arms

“Kaeya...” Jean says in a concerned tone having never seen him in such a state, even he seemed to quickly recover from his fathers death

Eventually Jean coaxed Kaeya to go back to the city and leave your body in the hands of the sisters. Where they dressed you up and prepared a funeral service for you

The funeral was larger than Kaeya was expecting, you had affected a many more people than he realised from your small jobs around the city. Kaeya can’t help but be awed at how many people you’ve helped while you were in Mond

The usual chatter of Mondstat is quiet and in a time of grieving for about a week or so, many people have wonderful memories of you and Kaeya seems to be collecting them all, that and bunches of flowers. Many of which find themselves laying on your tombstone as Kaeya tells you about his day

A month passes and it seems like everything's back to normal, Kaeya is back to his outgoing self. He spends more nights at the tavern, but even Diluc doesn’t have the heart to cut him off. 

Jean seems to pick up on the smallest things, goddamnit Jean, the extra nights at the tavern, the eyebags, the weeping she can hear from his room. In it’s own right is heart-breaking, the acting Grandmaster cannot imagine what it’s like to be actually experiencing that kind of pain

-

Diluc

No, not like this

You had both decided that night to join each other in your little vigilante escapade. Which was fine you had both done this before, but tonight resulted in something very different

Here you are, head on Dilucs lap. This could be considered romantic, and often was, were it not for the fact you felt like you choked up a mixture of your lung and your bloody supply

“Diluc” you speak with a much worse for wear voice, the red-head looks into your eyes, eyes already gaining moisture. A similar scene has befallen him before, a Diluc knows how this ends

“Please” he pleads his voice wavering “Please don’t leave me” he chokes back a sob and tears fall off his face the salt hitting your own

“I love you so much” you start, Diluc shakes his head. Must you hurt him so with last words? “Don’t blame yourse-” another set of hacking befalls you as you lose more blood

“Please” he pleads again as the grip you had on his arm goes slack indicating your loss of life

Diluc screams, he cries and he hugs you close. He screams into the air of Mondstat until his voice hurts and he cries until all he’s doing is dry sobbing and he holds you close until you’re broken body is pried from his own broken mind

A wondering Jean heard his screams into the night sky and hereby answered them. She never expected to see Diluc, still in his vigilante getup, crying over your body

She calls for more guards who take your body from his and Jean helps Diluc get back to the estate. At one point during the walk Jean can feel DIluc shaking and hyperventilating. So they stand for a moment, Jean holds and comforts the wine-master before they move again

Jean has never seen such emotion from Diluc before, and she wholeheartedly hopes she’ll never have to see it again. Seeing Diluc so raw and rife with emotion is enough to make anyone cry. And Jean nearly did on more than one occasion.

Your funeral is small, much to Dilucs request and really only were attended by the estate and Jean. Diluc didn’t want to cry again in such a large audience

Though the maids often hear pained sobs coming from Dilucs room as he contemplates and often blames himself for what had transpired. Maids daren’t speak up about what they hear though, Diluc’s pain is more than understandable

Diluc throws himself into work opting to man the bar most days of the week and fighting for the city as often as he can. People around him are more than concerned

Diluc’s stoic nature seems to be intensified now, not wanting to let another person in and die in his arms. He’s seen enough death for his life and wishes not to lose more loved ones

Everything seems to have moved back to what life was before you arrived in your life, depressive, monotonous, boring, mundane for the most part and sad. So very sad

He wishes for a day where his heart isn’t strife with grief, but he doubts that day will not be coming anytime soon

-

Childe

You grin up at him, feeling close to naught pain coming from the gaping wound thanks to the excess of adrenaline that’s pumping through your body

“Childe” you say the smile still on your lips in an attempt at not making the situation as dark and horrific as it is. Childe speaks your name in return

“I love you” you tell him mustering the strength to cup the mans cheek, who immediately nuzzles into it. The situation almost doesn’t feel real to him. He’s going to be shaken awake by a very unwounded you in just a moment and inform him he’s having a nightmare

But that moment doesn’t come. Nor do any words come from you. Your slow rhythms of your heart remind you that he’s still got time, but you’ve expended all your energy. Your smile you’re wearing seems to be dropping

“I love you [name], I love you so much, you are everything I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you” he rambles bringing your body to his chest

“Live for--- me” you sputter out into his chest, a dying wish that Childe isn’t too sure he can uphold. Is it really living if he’s an empty vessel.

You go limp in his arms and he can no longer sense your heartbeat. Death had finally laid claim to you

Childe sits with you for hours, you’d expect him to be wailing like a banshee if you knew his personality but that’s rather not the case. Sobbing quietly is a better word for what happens. Most of his sobs and hacks for air are hidden in your hair. He pulled your body to his shoulder just to weep

Eventually he finds himself mustering the courage to walk back to Liyue Harbour. You firmly held in his arms. He knows that if he walks too plainly the Millelith would pry and ask too many questions for his fragile heart to answer

Childe ends up barging into the wangsheng funeral parlour, which surprises Zhongli a little. He’s about to go on a rant to Childe about how he must book an appointment, until he sees your lifeless body in his arms

The funeral is arranged quickly and neatly. There aren’t many people who attend, Childe is okay with that, he secretly wants to see his family and cry on their shoulder a bit

Instead he opts for a letter, which arrives to the family tear stained and lacking the usual penmanship ‘I’m sorry, you won’t be able to see [name] after all. They passed away not too long ago...’ he basically writes your arbitrary in the letter. And his whole heart is in every word he writes

Determined not to let anybody in Childe finds himself in a pattern, when he’s not throwing himself into battles he’s doing paper work or yelling at his subordinates and when he’s not doing that he’s doing his weekly fight with the traveller. Childe gets next to no sleep and instead opts to reading and rereading every letter and note you’ve ever given him

If Childe passes out at his desk nobody bothers him either in fear of getting yelled at by the harbinger or an understanding of losing a loved one

They never said being a harbinger was fulfilling work. Yet, he let himself believe that he could be fulfilled and content with a lover. What a shameful lie

-

Venti

He’s awfully quiet. He hasn’t experienced death in so long. Especially one he thought would be forever.

He couldn’t even get to you to hear your last words. Ironic isn’t it? He hadn’t heard that guys last words either. And yet this pains him so much more

Sure mortal lives are fleeting but he was certain he had more time with you. More time to see you grow old, more time to put off your inevitable mortality. More time to-

He’s hyperventilating, Venti’s body shakes as he finds nothing to ground himself not even the person he loves so dear is there for him. He feels like he could explode, breaths caught in his throat refusing to surface and come up for air. Despite being an immortal archon, the breaths that refuse to surface don’t fail to make him feel like he’s choking

A bard he is. And one that knows every song from the past, present and future. Suddenly the pained songs from the future make sense to him. He knew what was written. A love lost

Suddenly he finds himself crying and hunched over your deceased form making promises to the wind that he’ll never forget you. Much like he’ll ever forget that bard

He isn’t sure how long has passed but he’s still sobbing over your form, there aren’t many tears left for him to cry but he can’t find himself stopping. He feels like they’ll never stop. 

Maybe he could lay beside you and sleep for another thousand years. But that would only delay the inevitable. The inevitable sinking feeling.

Maybe it was his fault for letting himself fall in love with a mortal, but in the moment he could truly see you living life with him. He could see a marriage, children. He wanted you to have it all.

Damn celestia and all things above for not letting you ascend, at least when he inevitably ascends you’ll be there to greet him. Curse that and your mortality

Jean eventually stumbles upon him during a recon mission to find him covering your body in various flowers, a crown made of cecelias don your head. He’s quiet, but he’s saying goodbye. Who would blame him? Jean doesn’t interrupt him and only wishes you a farewell

News of your death spread around town like wildfire, your grave donned with more flowers than Venti can count. He almost feels bad about not doing a public service after seeing how many people are truly in mourning

Diluc doesn’t push Venti to pay his growing tab no matter how much he should. And Diluc doesn’t say no to Venti singing his happy tunes in the tavern

It feels like his life has retuned to normal. Though Jean can’t help but look out the library window to see Venti sat atop his statue with an expression, as Jean can only guess, of sadness.

Venti finds himself going back to an old schedule again but he can’t miss the nagging feeling of somethings missing. The something being you

Sometimes he half expects you to hug him from behind, or join him up at the statue, or kiss him on his nose, or-

Venti can’t quite comprehend how he feels, he just knows there’s a hole in his heart where you belonged. And he doesn’t want to let anyone find their way into there

He doesn’t want to lose again

It’s happened too much

[shorkbrian]

Oohh how would shouta and hizashi take their submissive readers virginity?

(What to expect - virginity, NSFW, dubcon, noncon. If you’re wondering the type of piercings Hizashi has, they’re dydoes (or kings head) and a pubic piercing. MxM penetration, anal plugs (Hizashi’s wearing one while he diddles u hehe))

Gently, I imagine.

If their darling is submissive, too afraid to run or fight, then there’s no need for them to be harsh.

They can take their time, be sweet and loving.

"Shhhh, you're getting loud." Hizashi holds a fingers to your lips as you lay there, panicked whimpers, distressed whines tumbling out of you.

Shouta huffs at the irony, his fingers working at the button on your jeans, then the zipper, then hooking into your belt loops, tugging the pants down easily as you begin to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey, breathe with me, you’re alright.” Hizashi places a a hand against your chest, pressing you back against his warmth as he begin to take deep, steady breaths, encouraging you to do the same.

You can’t calm yourself though, eyes wide and fixed on the man in front of you, drawing your legs up and away from him as he rids you of your jeans, trying to keep your panties from his view.

If your wrists weren’t tied together, lashed to each other with soft, black ribbon, you’d be clutching at Shouta’s fingers as they ghost over your calves, up to your knees.

“P-please-” Is all you can whisper, fear settled so thoroughly in your body that you’re almost frozen.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to be gentle. ‘Zashi’s just holding you so you don’t wiggle too much and hurt yourself.” Shouta’s words are measured, steady even when he slips a hand between your knees and forces them apart.

You want to sob, but you can’t. Shouta breathes out a quiet “fuck” as he looks at your panties, running a finger across the waistband.

“She’s shaking like hell Sho.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s just nerves. Everyone’s nervous their first time.”

It’s nerves, it’s fear, it’s terror and dread. You’re horrified, and scared, and you’re shivering as if the room is freezing, even though it’s warm, cozy.

Hizashi dips down, brushes his lips against your neck, and you flinch, your shoulder rising to push his head away, his mustache tickling your flesh.

“Hah, you ticklish? That’s so cute.” The blonde coos, his arms circling around your stomach as his husband begins to tug down your panties. You’re sitting in Hizashi’s lap as Shouta strips you, the two men working together.

The blonde is already shirtless, pants-less, in nothing but boxers. You can feel his warm flesh through your hoodie, pressed against your back.

“My first time, I came in my pants.” Hizashi chuckled, thumbs rubbing at your sides. “Embarrassed myself to tears. The other dude thought it was hot, dropped right to his knees and pulled out my dick and got to suckin’. It kinda hurt, but he was fingerin’ himself at the same time and well, teenage-me was able to get it up immediately.”

You suppose he’s trying to ease your nerves.

Shouta gets your panties off, tosses them to the side as a hand grips each of your ankles, and then you’re spread wide.

A cry gets caught in your throat at the humiliation, Shouta and Hizashi both pausing to peer at your pussy, Hizashi letting out a low whistle.

“Damn, you’re a fuckin’ snack!”

Shouta lets go of your legs, and you snap them shut, closing your eyes as your cheeks burn.

“When I first had sex, I was a one-pump-chump. The girl I was with at the time said it was fine, but I didn’t know how to get her off. I’ve learned a lot since then.” The dark haired man offered his own story, hand slipping between your legs no matter how you twisted or clenched your thighs.

“Wooo! Imagine that, little ole Sho losin’ it after one stroke!”

“That’s what happens when you lose your virginity when you’re thirteen, ‘Zashi.” But Shouta has a gentle grin on his face, and his words held no malice towards his husband. Just two men in love recounting stories.

The dark-haired man leaned towards you, one of his fingers petting slowly over your folds as he did. Shouta wasn’t shy about kissing you, his lips warm, soft, stubble prickly against your skin.

He pulled back, breathing hotly against your lips. “How do you touch yourself? What feels good? I don’t want to overwhelm you, it’s easy to see that you’re sensitive.”

You trembled even harder, sniffling, closing your eyes as his finger still ran softly over your folds, barely touching.

“Sweetie-pop, can you show us? Show us how you want us to touch you down there.” Hizashi’s hands were playing with the edge of your hoodie, easing it up, his warm digits skimming against your skin.

Both men are waiting on your answer, watching you with lust-filled gazes as they run their hands over your skin. They’re already touching you, burning your skin, and you want to scream. All that comes out is a pathetic whimper.

“How do you masturabate? Do you like touching here-?” Aizawa presses his thumb to your clit, wiggles the digit and you tense, shaking your head. 

“-Here?” His fingers trail down to your entrance, one slowly beginning to push inside. You whimper again desperately, shaking your head side to side while looking at the man in front of you with pleading eyes.

“’K, this is gettin’ old-” Hizashi interjected. “I’ll ask one last time, and then Sho’ and I get to touch you however we want to, got it? How do you want us to touch your cute lil’ pussy?”

“I don’t know!” You wail, tears rolling down your cheeks. You’re so overwhelmed, and scared, and you just want to go home.

Neither man moves for a second, but then Hizashi is letting out a an excited sigh, hunching his back so he can kiss at your shoulder before questioning. “You don’t know?”

“I’ve never-never touched my-myself down there.” You manage to hiccup, and Shouta rubs your knee soothingly, his grey eyes trained on your face. 

“That’s alright, there’s no need to cry.” One of his hands cups your cheek, thumb brushing away salty tears. “We just want to make you feel good.”

You’d feel good if they took their hands off of you.

The hand that’s been rubbing over your folds becomes bolder, parting the lips of your cunt even as you try to squeeze your thighs shut. All that does is trap Shouta’s hand against you, his fingers sending little jolts of unsteady fire burning through your tummy.

“Mm, wait, please-” You whimper, desperate to escape this sensation.

Aizawa doesn’t wait.

Hizashi slips his nimble fingers underneath your hoodie, rucks it up over your chest and you burn with embarrassment at being exposed like this. You want to hide your face, but with your wrists bound, all you can do is cover your eyes with shaky fingers.

“Look at ‘er, god, you’re delicious. Just wanna eat you up! Sho, after you finger her, think I could eat her out? I wanna taste.”

His lewd words make you cringe, and you can’t even think about how it would feel, the blonde pressed between your thighs, tongue laving against you over and over-

“One thing at a time, she’s already a bit dazed. Maybe another time.” Shouta’s gently stimulating your clit, brushing his knuckles over it, watching you twitch with each pass of his fingers against the sensitive little organ.

“Alright, relax now, okay? Breath out for me.” The man instructs, and you could almost laugh; if the man thinks you could relax, he’s an idiot-

A wet finger pushes inside of you slowly, and you gasp brokenly, mouth falling open. There’s so much pressure, you feel stretched and it almost burns, but he’s not stopping.

There’s a squelch, and cool liquid rushes over your hole, slips inside as the finger slightly retracts, and you shudder at the feeling. It’s weird and you feel like you can’t breath.

The finger inside rubs at your walls, and your muscles clench at the foreign sensation, unsure whether it feels good or bad.

“Calm down, you’re okay. I’m just stretching you out. Tell me if something feels really good, alright?” Shouta is acting as if he’s speaking to a child, a spooked rabbit, a baby. His eyes keep flicking between your flushed face and your pussy, enamored by the way you suck his finger inside, at the feel of your velvety walls, the slick feeling that he can’t wait to experience hugging his cock.

“I can’t, I can’t, please-” 

“You can, doin’ so good for us sweetie.” Hizashi chirps, and you realize his hands are resting against your bare chest, idly squeezing at your breasts. You had been so focused on his partner’s actions that you had missed his coy advancement. 

One finger turns to two, and two fingers turns to three, and you’re quickly reduced to a sweaty, blubbering mess, begging the men to wait, to slow down, writhing in Hizashi’s lap while his husband violates you.

The pressure fades away to a comfortable stretch, and by the time Shouta begins to move his fingers with intent, you’re already close to your limit. Your thighs are still clenched together tightly, but the dark-haired man has plenty of room to maneuver his hand, moving his fingers in and out, letting his thumb tickle your clit.

You can’t stop your legs from shaking, abs clenching in pleasure, little noises that fall from your mouth without your permission. It feels good now, and Aizawa and Hizashi seem to know it, speeding up their movements, manipulating your body as a team.

The orgasm that washes over you is gentle, the build up to it steady and measured. The pleasure is expected, and yet it still hits you like a train, hips jerking against Shouta’s hand as he continues to finger you through it, a smile on his face as you drench his hand, pussy drooling.

“I’m sorry, oh no-oh no I made a-a m-mess.” You sob, mortified at your body, at your reaction, feeling gross and disgusting and a sweaty mess while both men watch you fall apart.

But Shouta just slips his hand from between your thighs, holds it out towards you expectantly. You’re confused, still trying to hide your face behind your bound hands, but then the man behind you is leaning forward, sucking Shouta’s fingers into his mouth, right next to your face.

You can hear him sucking your juices off his husband’s fingers, feel the shame coloring your cheeks deepen and spread. He’s so noisy about it, licking the digits, running his fingers between them, and your pussy clenches when you catch sight of a piercing nestled in the middle of his tongue.

You feel dizzy.

“Mmm, just like I though-” Hizashi purrs as he cleans his husband’s hand. He pulls back, growls in your ear “-Delicious.”

Then the two men are switching positions, Hizashi handing you off to Aizawa who settles you easily onto your back, head in his lap. Hizashi pulls at your hips, lifting them up to stuff a folded pillow underneath them, and you begin to realize what’s happening.

“Wait! Please! Hold on, I-I-just wait, oh god, please wait!” The fear is evident as your voice cracks pathetically, but you aren’t above begging.

“’Zashi’s a bit smaller than I am, figured that he’ll be nicer to ease you into it. If-” He shoots his husband a glare “-He keeps his cool.”

Hizashi was grinning as he shucked of his boxers, completely shameless as he revealed himself to you. “Hey, can’t blame a man for bein’ a bit excited. I mean, look at this little sweetie, all laid out like this.”

You felt exposed, afraid. Hizashi’s length bobbed against his stomach as he moved forward, grabbing your legs and settling them on either side of his hips.

There was a piercing in his cock, several piercings.

He was circumcised, with a prominent mushroom tip that held three prominent barbells along the edge. Another barbell glinted ominously behind the curve of his dick, settled right at the base on the top, blonde pubic hair trimmed neatly to showcase the piercing. 

“No, no please don’t. I’ll do anything, please, just not this! Please, please-”

“The piercings feel really good.” Shouta murmured, one hand cradling your head, the other pressed to your chest underneath your hoodie, keeping you anchored to the bed as you squirmed.

“I got this one ‘specially for you sweetie!” Hizashi took hold of his dick, pointed it down to show off the barbell in his pubic area, displaying it to you proudly. “It’s supposed to hit your cute lil’ clit when we’re going at it.”

The words washed over you, and the severity of your situation hit you. The planning required to get a piercing, have it heal-plus the idea that he expected to be actively using it with you again and again....

You started bawling.

“P-please! Don’t do this, please don’t! No no no no, no, no-” Your words were garbled, practically nonsensical, but that’s what you were trying to say. Whether or not they could understand you was out of your control.

“Hey, shh, shh. You’re okay sweetie.” The blonde placed a hand on your thigh, but that only served to make you sob harder.

“Calm down, we aren’t going to hurt you. It’ll feel good (Y/N).”

“No-oo! ‘M scared!!” You cried, and if your vision wasn’t blurry from tears, you’d have seen Hizashi’s green eyes soften, his lips twitch downward into a concerned frown. 

The married couple looked at each other, Hizashi hesitant and moved by your teary display, but Shouta was firm.

“You’ll be okay. It’s normal to be a bit frightened during your first time. But ‘Zashi and I have a lot of experience, we’re going to take good care of you.”

You don’t have time to protest, Hizashi settling between your thighs again, those long hands of his guiding his cock to your drooling entrance.

Shouta’s kissing you then, insist, his tongue pressing against your lips, distracting you.

Hizashi pushes inside, you gasp, and Shouta plunges his tongue into your mouth. There’s too much sensation, between the warm rod settling into you and the slimy tongue slipping around your own, and you can’t do anything but cry.

You cry when Shouta pulls back, when he places a soft, uncharacteristic kiss to your nose, brushes your tears away with his hand.

You cry when Hizashi groans, finally seating himself balls-deep in your cunt.

You cry when he pulls out, thrust back in with a smooth roll of his hips, swearing underneath his breath.

Shouta leans over you, grabs his husband by the back of the head and pulls him in for a passionate kiss. Long blond hair slips over Hizashi’s shoulders, tickles against your skin but it’s just another sensation that you can barely register, overwhelmed and already too fucked-out to focus.

The piercing at the base of Hizashi’s cock does stimulate your clit, especially when the man presses himself flush against you, circling his hips in a quick grinding motion. The metal rubs against your folds and you feel like screaming, it feels good but you don’t want it to.

The metal through the flared mushroom tip keeps brushing against a spot inside you that has you seeing sparks, but you still feel uncomfortable, too full, too stretched.

Hizashi fucks you slow, his husband petting awkwardly at your face.

Minutes pass, you’re not sure how long, but then Hizashi is going a bit faster, then faster again, Shouta’s telling him to slow down, but the blonde pants out “Can’t Sho’, she feels so damn good-”

The metal keeps grinding across your clit, and then you’re shrieking as an orgasm slams into you full-force out of nowhere.

It had been feeling good, but the combination of the tip of Hizashi’s cock hitting your sweet spot, plus the barbell along his pubic bone rubbing your little nub as he humped your cunt had you spasming, mouth dropping open and your eyes rolling back.

The next few moments are hazy, but you know Hizashi pulls out, lets out a low groan and then there's a bit of warmth striping across your stomach. Aizawa is saying something in that low baritone of his, but you don’t know what.

Your limbs feel like jelly, you feel too hot but chilled at the same time, feverish, sweaty. Shouta pats your cheek “Still with us?”

“Uhnh....” 

Aizawa laughed then, a full, throaty sound that made his stomach quake, and both you and Hizashi looked at him in surprise.

It was rare for the man to make such a noise.

“You good Sho’?” Hizashi asked, a puzzled smile on his face. Aizawa nodded, calming himself down a bit to respond, a broad grin still plastered across his features.

“I’m more than good, this is.... you were perfect.” The last bit is directed at you, and Aizawa leans down to kiss you, even though it’s clumsy and awkward. Still, he persists.

When he breaks away, he reaches for his husband, and pecks him on the lips, before shuffling backwards on the bed, your head sliding off his lap.

“Do’ya wanna lay down sweetie-pop? Or sit in the chair and watch?”

“Wha-?” You blink at the blonde, a hand rubbing at your puffy eyes. You’re thirsty.

“She’s exhausted, have her lay down. Plus, you can kiss her when you start getting too loud.” Aizawa prompts his husband, and Hizashi swats playfully at the dark-haired man, but heeds his advice.

You’re maneuvered up the bed, until your head rests on the pillows. Your wrists stay tied though, and your brows knit in confusion. Are they leaving?

No, Aizawa’s removing his boxers, Hizashi’s on his knees, his face by yours scrunched up as he reaches back to his rear.

A glimpse of Shouta’s cock, and you’re suddenly extremely grateful that you had been under his husband, and not taking the monster Shouta had been hiding behind his boxers.

But your attention is torn away by Hizashi, who’s holding up.... a plug, shiny with lube.

Shouta shuffles behind him, grabs his husband’s hips, and then Hizashi is kissing you, whimpering into your mouth as Shouta enters him.

You can’t find it in yourself to feel sorry for Hizashi. At least he’s going to enjoy himself, sharing that part of himself with someone he loves.

Bitterness rises within you as you realize; you aren’t able to say the same.

[obsidiancreates]

Good For Now (Sequel to Pushing Buttons (Until They Break))

(I'll put part one in the reblogs)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny flies right into Sam's room, hands still gripped over his mouth. There's ectoplasm leaking from where his nails are digging in now. He looks for her, and sees her at her computer playing Doomed.

He flies over and becomes visible again. Sam nearly jumps out of her skin. "Ah! Danny, what the heck-! Whoa." She takes off her headset. "Danny, are you okay."

He tries to speak. His voice still won't work. Danny shakes his head.

Sam turns towards him competently, turning off her computer. "What happened? Can you talk about it?"

Another head shake.

"Was it a ghost?"

Shake.

"... You parents?"

... Hesitant nod.

"Did they hurt you?"

His eyes well up again. When he shakes his head, the tears fall.

"... Did... did you... hurt them?"

... A nod. And a sob. And then he stiffens at the sound, curling in on himself a little.

Sam's eyes go wide. Clutching his mouth, can't talk, can't even make a small sound... "Did you Wail at them?"

Danny shakes.

"Oh, geez... okay, I'm going to call Tucker. Is that okay?"

Danny nods.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, okay, how do we find him?" Jack has various gadgets spread out on the table. "The Fenton Ghost-Finder? It's not our most advanced, but there's no weapons attached to it."

"What about the Boo-oo-merang?" Maddie suggests. "It's always locked onto him."

"It hits him in the head, remember?" Jazz points out. "Why can't we just call him?"

"He left his phone," Maddie sighs. "And even if he had it, I think that scream broke all the electronics in the room."

"Scream?" Jazz twists her hands together. "Okay, well, we know he probably didn't go far. What did you guys say to him? Anything that might've caused an extra intense reaction?"

"How does that help?" Jack inspects the rest of the gadgets for any weapon features.

"It'll let us know what kind of comfort he might need to seek out!"

Maddie and Jack think. "He didn't like when we mentioned blowing up ghosts," Jack says.

"Well, duh. But that wouldn't make him mad enough for that amount of damage, you guys say that all the time."

Maddie and Jack flinch a little. They know it's true, it's just...

How were they so stupid?

"... He... seemed very upset when I said ghosts have no humanity," Maddie says after a moment. "He went pale right away and stared into space for a moment."

They look at Jazz to see that she's gone pale, too.

"What is it, sweetie?" Maddie can't help the panic leaking into her voice. How bad was it, what she said?

Jazz takes a deep breath. "It's... hard to explain. Even harder when I don't really know what happened, just what I saw and what Danny felt okay filling me in on. But I do know that he saw a version of himself that lost his humanity, and it... really, really scarred him."

Maddie feel sick. "And I told him that's what he is. Oh, my baby boy..."

"Jazz. How much do you know?"

Jazz has never heard her Dad this... somber, before.

"There's some stuff I think Danny should tell you," Jazz says carefully. "I know that he's half-ghost-"

"Half ghost?" Jack sits down with a thud. "Half ghost? Not just ghost powers, half ghost?"

Jazz nods. "I also know that he's been trying to use his powers to help people, and he's terrified of hurting anyone with them. And I know that he's been through way, way too much for a fourteen year old to go through."

It's silent at the table. Jack grabs the Fenton Ghost Finder. "This one, then. Because he probably went somewhere private, right? To blow off steam?"

Jazz thinks, and shakes her head. "How was he when he left?"

"Terrified." Maddie hugs herself. "Terrified of himself, I think. He was keeping his hands gripped over his mouth like his life... our, lives, depended on it."

Jazz nods. "So he probably sought out reassurance. If he was having some kind of flashback, er, flashforward? Some kind of episode relating to the version of himself he saw that was evil, then he probably needs someone to reassure him that he's not that."

"Who would he go to? Does someone else know about his... condition?"

"His powers," Jazz corrects a bit harshly. "Condition makes it sound like you're considering it a sickness. It's not, it's just who he is now. And yes, two other people know."

"Who?" Jack is already programming the Finder to track Danny specifically. It's gone off around him before, it has his ecto-signature in it. The first one it ever collected, in fact.

"... Sam and Tucker." Jazz has her arms crossed, her body language prepped for fighting.

Jack and Maddie both freeze. Maddie smacks her forehead, and Jack almost crushes the Finder before Jazz plucks it away to finish programming it.

"Of course they know," Maddie groans. "That's why they're always causing trouble! They're covering for him!"

"And that's why he's always cutting class!" Jack slams his hands down on the tables. "He's been dealing with ghost powers and... and trying to fight ghosts with them!"

Jazz nods. "The worst part is he thinks he's stupid because his grades are suffering. But he's still incredibly intelligent, it's just being applied in different areas!"

"... Jazz. Does this mean when that... Ghost King, attacked, and we found Danny outside of the shield... he was out there fighting?"

Jazz hesitates. It's answer enough.

"How have we never noticed." Maddie is just in disbelief. "How?! After the accident we just- we didn't even take him to a hospital!"

"Didn't even check him over ourselves!" Jack crosses his arms. "We just moved on! ... Oh no, Maddie, he looked uncomfortable when we said we thought he'd Moved On, too. Could it be some kind of ghost trigger phrase?"

"Oh, no..."

"Mom, Dad, focus! Look, the Finder says he's still in the city! Let's just get in the car and follow it, okay? This isn't about you guys having realizations, not right now. You still need to have them, but later. Right now we have to find Danny and let him know you guys are fine, and so is he."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So they tried talking to you."

Danny nods. Sam tries not to look at the ectoplasm trailing down his hands from his cheeks.

"And it came to ghosts, because it always does," Tucker continues.

Nod.

"And... they said something that hurt worse than usual."

Nod.

"Was it something violent?"

Shake.

"So... a wrong factoid."

Nod.

"Ghost don't feel pain?" Tucker guesses.

Shake.

"Something about all ghosts being evil," Sam tries.

Danny thinks, and shrugs. So... somewhat.

Sam thinks, and gasps. "Was it... about them not having humanity?"

Danny grips his face tighter.

"Oh, man." Tucker puts his hand on Danny's shoulder. "Hey, they're wrong, you know that. You're nothing like Dan."

Danny shakes his head, tears spilling.

"You accidentally let out one very small Wail," Sam says. "Right? Your room is still livable, right? Just a few things broken?"

... A shrug.

"And they were okay."

Danny's face screw up, and they watch him stifle a sob with physical effort. He shakes his head.

"They were walking and talking, right?" Tucker offers.

A nod.

"Nothing permanent, then," Sam follows up. "And you didn't do it on purpose. And you feel terrible about it!"

"Yeah! Dan wouldn't be crying about this! You are, so it's not the same! You aren't on that path, buddy." Tucker looks at his cheeks. "You can... stop hurting yourself for it."

Danny tries to let go. They see him try. But he can't.

"Okay. So it'll take some time." Sam stands up, and locks her bedroom door. With five locks. "And this will buy us that time."

She sits back down. "You're not evil, Danny. You're not becoming evil. You made a mistake, that's it."

"Yeah! And, we're teenagers! Prime mistake time!" Tucker pats his shoulder. "It's natural!"

But Danny can't afford to make mistakes. He makes mistakes, and people. Get. Hurt.

He starts shake-crying again. Tuccker looks at Sam, and gestures for her to come in closer.

They both hug Danny, letting their currently-undead friend experience some warmth and reassuring heartbeats.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dismantle the dissection table," Jack says as he speeds through the streets, gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.

Maddie write it down. "We should put his ecto-signature into the security system so it doesn't accidentally see him as a threat. ... Oh my god, Jack, what if it's already seen him as a threat before?"

"It has," Jazz says, "But only when he's in ghost form."

"Ghost form?"

Jazz cringes. "Um, yeah, that's something to have Danny elaborate on."

Maddie swallows. What has he been going through? ... At least he wasn't alone, she supposes. At least he had Jazz and his friends.

At least he had someone in his corner while his own parents were... threatening him.

Maddie clears her throat. So, um, table and security. We should also stop showing him our weapons. Or, maybe show him them, but in an educational way, not a... how-good-it-is-at-hurting-ghosts way."

Jack almost slams into another car and shakes his fist at them when they honk. Don't they know he's having an emergency?! "Maybe we should stop the talking about ghost psychology, too. I think we got a lot of it wrong."

Very, very wrong.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay... okay... there we go."

Sam helps move Danny hand away from his face once he gets his fingers to stop digging in. His arm is stiff, and fights her a little at first, but as she moves it he eases up a bit.

Tucker starts wiping away the ectoplasm. "Should heal up in no time, dude."

A little longer than less... deep, scratches, But Danny heals fast. Soon they'll be gone, and he can get a little closer to moving forward from this.

Not moving on. Never moving on. That is not a ghost-friendly phrase.

Danny smiles every so slightly at his friends. Small, but there.

"Want to listen to some Dumpty Humpty?" Tucker asks.

Danny nods. Sam goes over to her player and pops in a CD. She knows which album is Danny's favorite and goes right for it.

Danny closes his eyes, and they see him relax a little. All little things, tying him to humanity. Chilling to music, getting small wounds cleaned out, an uncomfortable chair seeming like a blush bed when you're just tired.

It all helps, little by little.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack bangs his fist on the door. Two smiling faces open it, and then the smiles fall away. "Oh, The Fentons. How nice."

Sam's parents do not look like they think this visit is nice.

Jack puts his hands on his hips. "I need to go up and talk to my son!"

"It's just the other boy over right now," Sam's dad says.

"Danny is up there," Jazz insists. "He... had a fight with me, and came to Sam to hide out."

Sam's mom rolls her eyes. "Oh, such a... colorfully tempered family. You're sure he came here?"

"Why did Tucker say he was over?"

"Homework."

"Yeah, Danny is here."

Sam's parents begrudgingly let them in. They all three rush upstairs, and have to stop to ask the butler for directions to Sam's room. When they get there and try to open the door, it is very locked.

Maddie knocks softly. "Danny?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Danny?"

Danny's eyes open, and he stares at the door, petrified.

Sam stands up. "Danny's not here!"

"We have his ecto-signature right here!" Jack declares through the door.

"Dad!" they hear Jazz hiss. "That sounds like a threat!"

"Oh! Sorry, no I mean- well, I mean what I said, but in a loving way! We're here to say some things to Danny!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Tucker demands. He and Sam both put themselves between Danny and the door.

"Apologies," Maddie calls through the door, "And to have a real talk! Not like the one we just had, a real-real one!"

"We know, son." Jack's voice is a little softer. "And we're okay with it. We're not going to do anything to you. We just want to talk."

Sam and Tucker look at Danny.

He shakes his head, putting one hand over his mouth.

"He's not up for it!" Sam shouts.

"Danny, please!" Maddie knocks again. "We know you didn't do it on purpose! We know you love us, and we want you to know that we love you! No matter what!"

Danny brings his knees up to his chest.

"Danny," Jazz's voice comes again, "They're being honest. They even left all their hunting gear at home."

Danny looks up. Left it at home? His parents left it all at home?

"We don't know how long this has been going on," Jack says, "But we should've. The moment something this drastic changed with you we should have noticed and adapted too."

"We know we've never been the most... attentive," Maddie says, guilt clear in her voice. "Sometimes we've been borderline... neglectful, and this situation makes that clear to us."

"We're sorry that we missed something this major developing in your life." Jack's voice is breaking. "We should be the people you can turn to for any problems your facing, and instead we added to them."

"We don't believe you're inhuman, Danny." Maddie is clearly crying on the other side of the door, given her voice. "We would never believe that about you. You're a very caring, kind boy, and you're very aware of other people."

"And if we can make mistakes as big and as bad as we've been making lately, then you can make some too."

Sam and Tucker look at Danny again.

Danny hesitates for a long moment.

And then nods.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door opens. Sam and Tucker are both glaring at The Fentons as they enter, even at Jazz. Jazz understands. They're in a protective mode right now, and she's on the wrong side of it in their eyes.

Danny switched back to human while am was unlocking the door. Maddie and Jack stand a couple feet away, just looking at him.

He looks back.

No-one says anything.

Jazz nudges them both, and gestures for them to get closer to him. So they do.

Danny flinches a little. So they stop.

"Look." Maddie starts going through her suit. "No weapons, see?"

"Just the Fenton Finder, most basic form." Jack holds it up. "Not even a mini-shield on it."

Danny nods.

"He can't talk yet," Tucker says, arms crossed. "If you need to ask something he can't answer, we'll answer for him if he says it's okay."

Jazz smiles. They really are the best friends he could have.

Maddie takes a deep breath. "Danny... was it... all of this, did it start with... The Accident?"

A hesitation. And then, slowly, a nod.

Jack plops down into a chair heavily. "Months. Months." His voice is strained. "We've been... we're so sorry."

Maddie wipes her eyes. "We had no idea. We-we should have had an idea, we should have. We never should have said those things in from of you."

Danny hugs himself, looking away.

Jack clears his throat, clasping his hands together. "You have... more ghost powers than just the scream?"

Danny nods. He glances at Tucker and Sam, and nods at them too.

"Invisibility," Sam starts off. "Intangibility. Ecto-rays."

"Ecto-shields," Tucker adds. "Ghost Sense, too. And sometimes he kind of stretches his body like it's made of smoke."

"And he's more, durable I guess, and heals faster," Sam finishes.

Madie's hands are shaking. His cells mutated that severely? He's had all of these abilities for months?

And they never noticed one?

"Do they hurt you to use?" she asks.

Danny shakes his head.

"Have you interacted with ghosts on your own?" Jack asks.

Nod.

"Are they... friendly?"

... Shrug. A glance at Sam and Tucker.

"Some of them aren't too bad," Sam says. "Usually there's a fight, but sometimes it's just a misunderstanding."

"Other times it's a little more... intense," Tucker says with a slight wince.

Maddie and Jack look back at Danny. He shrugs again.

"Have you been in a lot of fights?"

Glance.

"Almost daily since a month after the accident," Sam supplies. "We help him out whenever and however we can."

Jack grips his hands tightly. "Have you been attacked by humans, too?"

A nod.

"Have... we, attacked you?"

... Nod.

Jack lets out a breath, putting his head in his hands.

Maddie reaches out, wanting to hold Danny's hand, but he pulls away. She does too, and wipes her eyes again. "Jazz mentioned a ghost form. Does it look... very different, from you right now?"

Danny shrugs.

"... Can we see?"

Danny shakes his head.

"... Why not?" Maddie keeps her voice as soft as possible.

Glance.

"You'll recognize it," Sam says.

Tucker nods. "And it'll make everything even more complicated."

Recognize it? But... how? There aren't many-

Maddie looks at Jack, eyes wide and horrified. She sees the same expression on her husband.

There aren't many ghost boys they've seen.

Aren't many they've fou- attacked.

There's just one.

One they've sworn to dissect over and over. Sworn to capture, rip apart, disintegrate, blow to pieces, every horrible thing they could thing of doing to it, they've talked about it in front of Danny.

"Oh, honey." Her voice breaks so badly that the words are barely understandable. "Oh, honey, that was you? This whole time... Phantom was you?"

Danny curls in on himself.

Jack is staring at his son, tears streaming down his face. "I shot at your from the window," he says blankly.

Danny nods.

"I almost killed you in city hall." Maddie is choking on the words.

Danny nods again.

Maddie steps back, now not trusting herself to be close to him. "We-"

The words die in her throat. How can they even begin to apologize. And-

"You fought the Ghost King?"

Nod.

"You saved the whole town."

Nod.

"And you didn't feel like you could tell us." Maddie brings her hands to her chest, holding them there. "Because no matter how much good you did, we still hated ghosts."

"Hated you," Jack says, still blank voiced, still silently crying.

"... But you- Phantom did things that-"

"The mayor was overshadowed by one of his enemies and framed him for holding him hostage," Sam cuts in.

"And when he stole stuff, it was because a guy had a ghost-mind-control thing. But we broke it, so that won't happen again." Tucker imitates smashing something.

Danny raises an eyebrow at Tucker.

"Okay," Tucker says, raising his hands, "Danny's the one who broke it. Well, technically, it fell off of a train."

Jack and Maddie sit there. Both just...

Just...

Just.

Danny stays curled up.

Jazz watches them all, and steps forward a bit. "I think there's one important thing we're all forgetting to address."

No-one looks at her, but she's sure they're listening.

"Danny isn't okay, but he's okay. You two aren't okay, but you're okay. We can't fix all of these problems in one talk, but we have one problem that started this."

She walks over to Danny, gently moving his head. He lets her. "See? They're okay. Dad has a band-aid on because it didn't need anything more than that, and he's just got a minor sprain. Mom's shoulder is just bruised, not broken or out of place. Her ankle hit something funny, but it's not broken either, just sore."

Danny looks at his parents, soaking in what Jazz says.

"And Mom, Dad, Danny is sharing with you. It's not the most conventional way, but this is openness. He's letting you in on his life again, like you wanted."

Maddie and Jack look at Danny, their eyes red and puffy from the crying.

"It's a good start," Jazz reminds all of them softly. "It's a start at all, and that's progress. That's good."

...

...

...

"I am sorry," Danny says, his voice cracking like his throat is dry and sore. "Really."

Maddie shakes her head. "No, no it's okay. We pushed the wrong buttons, Danny, it happens. I once got a fork stuck in your aunt's arm during a fight."

"You didn't know."

"We should have," Maddie says. "We shouldn't have missed something this big in your life for all this time."

Jack stands up, walking over closer. "From now on, we'll make more time outside of ghost... research." The word 'hunting' lingers, unsaid. It's a little too late, but it's... an effort.

"... I could help with it," Danny offers. "... Help you understand it all a little better. A lot of it isn't... quite right."

Maddie and Jack nod. "We'd love your help,"Jack says earnestly. "We want to understand you, and if that means understanding ghosts from a more personal perspective, we'll do it!"

Danny smiles. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely." Jack crouches down. "And if we slip up, don't be afraid to remind us. Either of you." He looks over at Jazz.

She smiles, giving a thumbs-up.

Danny rubs his arm. "... Do you still want to see me transform? Even though you know what I'll look like?"

"If you feel okay with showing us," Maddie stresses. Boundaries. They're going to learn them. If it requires them to pull out their teeth or give up everything they have, they will learn how to respect boundries.

Danny hesitates a moment longer, and then stands up. "Going ghost," he says, his voice a bit nervous and shaky.

Maddie and Jack watch the ring of light appear around his torso, splitting and going up and down. They watch his old HAZMAT suit (of course that's his HAZMAT suit, how could they miss it, it's exactly the same just opposite colors-) appear as the rings go up and down.

They watch his hair turn white, and when he opens his eyes they're glowing bright green. A white sort of aura of light envelops him, and the rings disappear with a small flash of light.

There he stands. Danny Phantom. The ghost they've been hunting for months. The one they're sworn to capture so many time. The one they're swore to take apart. Molecule by molecule.

... No.

There he stands, Danny Phantom, their son. Their son, the ghost hero.

Danny's trying to smile, but there's tears already brimming in his eyes.

Maddie stands... and opens her arms for a hug.

Danny swallows. Looks at her like he can't believe it.

And then he crashes into her with one of the strongest hugs she's ever felt, stronger than Jack by far. And Danny is so cold, and even though he's solid there's something decidedly impermanent to it. Like Ooblek, solid and liquid at the same time.

Jack comes over, and hesitantly joins the hug. When Danny lets it happen, he hugs a little tighter.

It's... going to take getting used to.

It's going to take work to start getting things right.

To start making things right.

But this is... good for now.

This hug, with Danny in full ghost form, with them showing they don't care...

It's good for now.

[puppy-coded]

Wax Hands {T.S.}

Warning(s): Angst, fostering/adoption, some fluff, Tony dying, endgame spoilers, the Watts Family(murder but not detailed), a little fluff and a few happy moments

Word Count: 1612 words

Prompt(s): Tiny Hand in Big Hand, “I’m worried about you.”

Pairing: Dad!Tony Stark x Child!reader

A/N: This is for @depressed-barnes 300 follower celebration! Congratulations and thank you for letting me participate! I would have gotten this out sooner if my internet wasn’t out last night and for most of this morning. Anyway... Hope you enjoy!

.

.

.

.

.

.

Tony Stark, most famously known as the current co-owner of Stark Industries, which specializes in weapon manufacturing and shipping. Pepper Potts is Tony’s personal assistant and she realized that his public image is... not terrific. She encouraged him to adopt a dog or a cat, something that would make people think he had a heart.

Tony, being Tony, decides to become a foster parent. To a child. He applied, he did all his paperwork, he did everything to make sure he would get approved. About a month later he received a phone call about foster child placement. He got some basic information about a little 4 year old girl named (Y/N).

He painted your room a beautiful lavender, put in a nice, larger-than-any-four-year-old-needs bed, a large bookshelf, and a chest at the end of your bed with fluffy blankets and different stuffies.

When (Y/N) came into Tony’s care you were very shy but Tony was determined to get you to like him. He absolutely spoiled you. Eventually, after many late night talks over ice cream and chocolate milk, you loved Tony. They’d hang out almost everyday, shopping, talking, getting to know each other, laughing, making jokes, everything. Soon enough his image had turned. He headlined almost every time someone took a picture of you two together, usually accompanied by “He’s such a cute dad!” or something if a picture is posted online. Stark seemed to always be trending on Twitter because of this. 

It suddenly stopped when he went missing for almost a full year. Pepper took care of little (Y/N) and… it was hard for the both of them. 

One night (Y/N) comes into Pepper’s room, clutching a special bear that you had made with Tony at Build-A-Bear.

“Do you know where Tony is?” You asked sadly, climbing into your bed.

“I don’t (Y/N),” Pepper admits, wrapping your arms around the little girl.

“I want my daddy back!” You wailed, starting to sob into Pepper’s shoulder.

“I know,” Pepper said, stroking your hair. “I know.”

A week later he came back. The first thing he did, even before his press conference, was promise (Y/N) something.

“(Y/N),” He said, bending down to your level when you were still turned around.

“Daddy!” You screamed, jumping into his arms.

“Hey (N/N). Did you miss me?” He asked, keeping you in his unbroken arm.

“Mhm!��

“Well, I promise you that, once my arm gets all better, that I will spend a full week with you. Just you and me. How’s that sound?” He asked, he watched as your face slowly lit up.

You nodded your head enthusiastically and gave him another hug. He went into the press conference with a burger and was done after an hour. You didn’t know this until four months later but he signed the papers to formally adopt you. It took four months but you were his daughter now, though you both knew you always were.

True to his word, when his arm was better he took you out of state to an amusement park so he couldn’t be reached by his employees or be tempted to go home. It was nearing the end of the day and Tony said that you could do one more thing.

“What’s that?” You asked him, pointing to a wax hand station.

“Oh, it’s hot wax. You stick your hand in it, wait for it to dry, and they peel it off for you to take home,” Tony explained, already leading you to the stand.

You two had contemplated what you wanted and you both decided on peace signs. You went home with wax peace signs, a small one from you and a big one from him. 

It became a tradition. Wax hands every time you get the chance. He once put his hand in like he was offering someone his hand and gave it to you so “Every time you want someone to hold your hand then I’m there for you.”

Soon enough, in almost the blink of an eye, you were starting high school. You haven’t really made friends since you switched schools to Midtown Science High School. You just kept your head down and learned as much as you could. Tony noticed that it was starting to affect you. While he encouraged you to make friends he also knew that it was hard.

You did well in school all four years, at the expense of your sleep and mental health of course. Your junior year was the roughest. You had been working on your semester project in Tony’s lab at around one in the morning when Tony came down.

“(Y/N), why are you still awake?” He asked with his arms crossed. He wasn’t mad, just a little worried.

“Project,” You simply stated.

“I’m worried about you. You’ve been doing this all week,” He told you. He only knew you had been because of Friday but still.

“Don’t be, I’m fine,” You tried. Tony only stared at you. “Fine, I’ll get some sleep,” You sighed after a staring contest that went on for way too long.

The next night you did the same thing while listening to a true crime podcast. The case of the Watts family came on and you listened to the entire episode until a really disturbing piece of information came on. You dropped your tools immediately and burst into Tony’s room, trying not to cry. You shook your dad up and he immediately went into a fighting stance, even if tiredly.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” He asked.

“Can I sleep in here tonight…?” You asked, wiping your eyes. Tony nodded and scooted over.

“What happened?” He asked while you held his hand, your hands still small against his even at sixteen.

“I just realized that I love you and you’re my hero,” You said. “I don’t want to lose you ever.”

“You won’t until I’m old,” He said.

-

“Pepper, where’s Morgan?” You asked, looking for your little sister. Even though you two were sixteen years apart you still enjoyed hanging out and playing with each other.

“Er… I don’t know. But I’m looking for your dad too, have you seen him?” She asked you, putting her hands on her hips and sighing.

“They’re probably together,” You reasoned.

You found Morgan and Tony in the woods having a tea party.

“What!” You yelled out. “Morgan, you had a tea party and didn’t invite me?” You jokingly asked.

“It was a daddy-daughter-stuffie-mom’s mask tea party,” Tony informed you matter-of-factly with a boa and tiara on, sipping “tea” Morgan made.

“(Y/N)!” Morgan had instantly abandoned the tea party and gave you a hug. “Wanna play?”

“Of course! That’s why I was looking for you! Oh, and I also made cupcakes,” You told her, walking back toward the cabin.

“Yay!” She exclaimed.

You, Morgan, Pepper, and a boa clad Tony had eaten cupcakes and conversed in the kitchen. It was pretty nice.

- 

You had stood with Peter, Morgan, and Harley at the funeral. It was at the lake behind your house. You could barely keep it together but felt like you had to for Morgan and Pepper. 

After the funeral people talked with each other, people gave you their condolences, the world seemed bleak, all your accomplishments seemed pointless. Everything was off.

You went into the house and cried in the lab, his lab. All the technology your dad had seemed untouchable now even though you used it all the time. You were walking around when you saw a folder labeled “(Y/N)’s drawings”. You opened it and it was everything you ever drew or colored for him. They all had dates and what you said they were. The latest date was 11/3/10, according to you it was a dog while, in reality it was just a cow with skinny legs. 

Now you just looked around for anything though you fully thought it was just the one folder. You opened a closet and it had boxes in it. 

“(Y/N)’s Projects”

“(Y/N)’s Gifts to Me”

“(Y/N)’s Old Stuffies She Might Want One Day”

“Build-A-Bear w/ (Y/N)”

One box in particular caught your eye.

“Wax Hands w/ (Y/N)”

You took it out and it was every wax hand he’d ever made with you. Half hearts, peace signs, the hand he offered to you… You took it and went into your room. You put it on your desk and put you hand in it. Your hands still looked small compared to it. You smiled slightly and let the tears finally flow.

You missed him.

“You know, he had a program just for you too,” Peter said. You jumped and turned to him. “It was the Put It On The Fridge one. Every time you said something and he was proud of it he would tell F.R.I.D.A.Y to add it,” He told you before walking out. “I’m sorry for barging in and for your loss.”

That night you had been at your desk, trying to finish a paper, holding your dads wax hand and you were curious.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y… What’s everything (Y/N) has ever said that’s on the Put It On The Fridge program?” You asked up at your ceiling to the AI.

She showed you and it was smart things you said, sarcasm, awkward moments, bad things you’ve done and have admitted to doing. He was proud of you. For everything it seemed.

That night you went to bed knowing that.

You got peace for the first time in the last couple of months.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

masterpost

[pixie-dust-and-pain]

Tomato Soup

summary: you've bumped into Bucky, broken your phone, gotten his number, and all because of those damn soup cans

Warnings: swearing, shreksual innuendo, bro what is this i don't even like how this came out send help (my parents about me lmao)

Word Count: 987

a/n: Made an 11 page ppt for my pardner on why she's the best simply cause I can. It made him happy, i think.

Your eyes were itchy, your head hurt, your rent was due, and your hotel was Trivago. Actually, you were too poor to afford a hotel, but that wasn't the point.

You sigh dramatically, rounding the corner and swinging the bags in your hand around. Your day was going horribly, you'd just finished having the mental breakdown you'd been putting off for days, and now you were all out of canned tomato soup. Who the fuck runs out of canned tomato soup? A maniac, that's who.

So, naturally, like the sane and responsible citizen you were, you'd gone to the store and bought around twenty cans of soup. They were sure to last you at least a week, right?

Maybe you were still broke, but at least you had your beloved with you.

You turn, crashing into a random fucker. Maybe some weird sort of physics was involved, but the man had enough muscle for you to rebound and land on your ass. Literal pain in the ass.

Your cans fall out of the bag, rolling around the pavement, sad, dejected, and deserted.

"My babies!" you're on all fours before he can blink, picking them up and cradling them.

He blinks, before helping you, "Gosh, 'm sorry I-" he cuts himself off, eyeing something on the ground warily. On closer inspection, you notice that it's your phone. Or, the remnants of it, anyway.

And then you're sobbing, "My darling, you were so-so faithful," you're clutching the phone, hiccups infusing your sobs as you wail. "Everything is ruined. My fucking rent is due," a lady covers her daughter's ears at that, sharply glaring at you.

"You say the bad word mommy, why can't-?" the girl questions, cut off by her mother's annoyed huff. The mother hushes her, leading her away. You pay them no mind.

"Did-did you know?" you ask, staring up at the man, who you now notice has really pretty blue eyes. He nods, as though signalling for you to continue while he picks up your cans. You wonder if he's silently judging you for all the cans of soup. "My salary is absolute shit, and my ex is getting married and that's nice and all except said ex is getting married to my high school crush? What fucking blasphemy,"

He gently guides you up and hands you the bag, "That's rough buddy,"

You laugh wetly, sniffling, "Okay, Zuko. And-and now, I'm here, out of tomato soup, haven't done laundry in a week, I've got bills and-and I've gotta attend annoying ex's wedding and my parents are bugging me to get married and if I don't feed my fish I'm gonna die," You sob, "and the last thing I need is a hot stranger judging me cause I like soup. I just like the fucking soup, okay?"

He nods like a saint, understanding and patient, even if he's a little confused.

"And now my phone is broken," you laugh, and then wipe at your face aggressively.

"Sorry 'bout that,"

You take in a deep breath, "Okay,"

"Okay?"

"Buy me a new phone,"

He blinks, taken aback, "What?" It's not like he couldn't afford it, per se, he was just very taken aback.

"All men are the same," you whisper, taking your grocery bags out of his hand before walking the few steps left for your home. "Goodbye," you call out, waving sadly, "attractive stranger that I've embarrased myself in front of and won't buy me a new phone!"

The door to your building slides shut behind you as you make your way to the stairs. All 'cause of that fucking soup.

*~*

Your hotel is no longer Trivago, and your eyes no longer itchy, but your rent was most definitely due. Fucking rent.

You pull your hair into the most basic hairstyle, and wear the most basic clothes in your wardrobe, basically screaming, look! I'm melancholy and my world exists only in black and white and that one shade of beige! Pick me!

You fight the urge to dye your hair bright pink, simply for the sake of it.

You throw your curtains open and are met by the lovely sight of ugly houses and filth. Ah, the city life.

Switching off the lights, you grab your very typical book bag, which is probably the only bag that isn't from the prehistoric ages. Typical and basic is a nice look, and damn do you feel professional and hot, but why is it all in fucking beige, black, and white? With tinges of grey, of course, for the flair. Plus, it's itchier than your grand-uncles beard hair when they'd rub against your shoulder when he'd hug you.

Breakfast is, well, non-existent at this point. It's not that you don't have food, you just can't cook. The last time you tried making french toast, it ended up looking like your dead cremated grandmother's remains.

You open the door, nearly stepping on a neatly wrapped box that's been placed in front of your door.

Is it my birthday?

No, it's not, unless you somehow forgot.

You pick up the box, studying it. There's a note attached to the top, '

sorry for the phone, thanks for the compliment, have fun with all your soup. Wrote my number on te box if ya wanna talk. Also, what the fuck is a Zukoh?'

You hold your breath as you unwrap the gift, your mouth falling open in shock when you finish. He bought you an actual phone. An actual fucking phone.

You grin, making your way out of your building as you set it up and save his number into it. He picks up on the second ring.

"Uh, hi?" he sounds awkward and hesitant, as though he expects you to somehow hurl insults and the box at his face through the phone.

"I see you're sugar daddy material," you say, already grinning as you board the bus.

"I'm a what?"

"Let me explain,"

Oh, his poor innocence.

[bumbleklee]

philocaly (kaeya x reader)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | discord server

★ ironically this came to me in a dream last night lol. it’s also 4 in the morning so please excuse anything that makes no sense <3

★ summary: you have the worst nightmare of your life but thankfully kaeya is there to calm you down

★ content warning: there’s a very quick, very vague sex scene that isn’t detailed at all but just so everyone knows. major angst but also major comfort so do with that what you will. also reader was written as female but its pretty vague so feel free to imagine them as whoever you want

philocaly

(n) the love of beauty 

The first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was the intoxicating smell of gasoline that surrounded you. Your body felt sticky and wet and it didn’t take long for you to realize you were drenched in petroleum. You felt dazed and when you tried to look around, your eyesight blurred and you stared into a cloudy abyss.

A voice began speaking and you jolted up, trying to find the source only to find absolutely nothing. You didn’t even know if you were sitting in a chair.

“So naive…”

Your breath caught in your throat when you recognized the voice as Kaeya’s. But your mouth wasn’t moving. You thrashed around but it was like your arms were being held down by invisible bonds.

“Don’t panic, pretty,” Kaeya said. His voice echoed around the room and finally the clouds started to dissipate. Your beloved boyfriend stood feet away from you, wearing a brilliant white tuxedo. “We’re just going to talk. For now.”

Out of thin air, Kaeya pulled a chair in front of you. He sat down in it backwards, leaning his head on his arms. He had his signature smile on his face but his eyes were dull and emotionless. Suddenly your feet hit something hard and you glanced down, seeing a polished wooden floor beneath your shoes.

“Tell me, Y/N,” Kaeya purred, looking at you in a way that made you shiver, “Do you really think you amount to anything in this world?”

His words stunned you. What was going on? You gaped your mouth to speak but no words came out. You didn’t know what to say.

“It would solve a lot of problems if we just got rid of you right now, don’t you think? I would finally be free to find someone worth my time and the rest of Mondstadt would be happy to have such a burden lifted.”

You felt like your throat was on fire. You couldn’t believe Kaeya was saying these things to you but he really was. Tears streamed down your face and you sharply inhaled, your chest aching in pain. You prayed that this was some sick joke.

The gasoline that was poured on your head before started to run down your face, sliding between your eyes and burning your nostrils when you breathed.

“You’re crying now? How pathetic,” Kaeya laughed. He shoved his hand into the pocket of the tuxedo jacket and pulled out a pack of matches. Your eyes widened and you felt yourself stop breathing momentarily. He hummed casually and stood up from the chair, “I can’t wait to find someone so much better.”

You tried to scream, defend yourself, but no sounds came out. It was like your voice box had been ripped away. Your eyesight was blurry again from your tears but you couldn’t even wipe them away. A gloved hand reached out and gripped your jaw, pulling your face upwards. Kaeya was in front of you now, his eyes even more sadistic than before. He cocked his head at you and rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip.

“You always had such an ugly face.”

And with that, Kaeya ripped his hand away and lit a match. He threw it at you carelessly and turned on his heel. As soon as the tiny flame touched the gasoline, it was like an explosion. The flames crawled up your legs and surrounded your body. You had never felt this kind of pain before and it was unbearable. Once again, you tried to scream but only silent heaves escaped your throat. The last thing you saw was Kaeya’s long ponytail being thrown over his shoulder before the flames consumed you.

You shot up in bed, your hands clutching your nightgown like never before. You heaved and erratically inhaled, trying to catch your breath. While you couldn’t feel the flames anymore, in that moment they felt so real. Never before had you had such a horrendous nightmare and you didn’t know how to handle it.

Kaeya’s words rang through your head over and over again. You couldn’t stop the tears falling from your eyes, only this time you could reach up and wipe them away. Hands crawled up your shoulders and Kaeya, the real one, rubbed them slowly.

“You’re drenched in sweat, Princess,” He mumbled, “What happened?”

Your blood grew cold as your dream replayed. You choked back a sob and managed to twist your body so you were facing Kaeya. “I’m okay,” You lied, your voice hoarse and quiet, “I’m just a little shaken up.” Kaeya raised an eyebrow at you. He had seen you shaken up before and it was never this extreme. He opened his mouth to speak but you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. “I want to do it. Right now.”

“What?” Kaeya mumbled between desperate, rough kisses. Normally he wouldn’t be opposed to a spontaneous midnight session but you were clearly in distress.

“Please,” Your voice cracked. You needed to be intimate with Kaeya right now, you needed to feel his body flush against yours. You needed to know that he still wanted you.

Kaeya only nodded and let you push him back onto the bed. You inhaled sharply again and rubbed your cheeks. You slung a leg over Kaeya and wasted no time in kissing down his neck. You placed wet kisses on his skin and Kaeya’s hands grazed your hips. If this was going to make you feel better right now, then he would do anything you wanted.

You inched backwards so your crotch was over Kaeya’s and you pulled down his pants quickly. He was still soft but you didn’t care, lifting up your nightgown and lowering yourself onto Kaeya. He didn’t make his usual sound of pleasure when he entered you but you paid no mind, placing your hands flat on Kaeya’s stomach so you could move your hips and back forth. Your movement was erratic and, honestly, didn’t feel good at all but you needed this intimacy now.

When you and Kaeya made love, it was gentle and sensual. He treated you like glass and his touches made you feel like you were on cloud nine. But this didn’t feel right. You weren’t feeling loved and beautiful this time. You could only think about what Kaeya said in your dream and maybe he was right.

You started crying again and Kaeya’s heart ached. He hated seeing you like this and he knew that having sex wasn’t what you needed right now.

“Alright, we’re done,” Kaeya said softly. His hands tried to lift you off of him but you only ground your hips down and let out a sob.

“No!” You cried, “We have to finish. We have to.”

“No, we don’t,” Kaeya countered. He suddenly overpowered you, lifting your hips off his and moving you beside him in bed. He pulled his pants back up and pulled your nightgown back down. This time, Kaeya leaned over you and boxed your head in with his arms so you couldn’t roll away. “Tell me what happened.”

At this, your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs. You couldn’t breathe and inaudible words floated out of your mouth. You tried to explain your dream but your wails only drowned it out. Kaeya waited patiently for you to stop crying. He hated seeing you cry but knew you needed this and wasn’t going to push you to stop anytime soon.

He stayed perfectly still until your sobs eventually died out. You were still a teary, sniffling mess but at least you could form coherent sentences now. You shakily explained your dream, repeating what was said to you by the love of your life. Kaeya listened and felt sick. His nose brushed against yours.

“None of that is true,” Kaeya said firmly. His eyes stared intensely into yours and your bottom lip quivered again, “You know that, right?”

“I’m so in love with you,” You started, “So in love that a nightmare about you not loving me is more painful than getting stabbed fifty times. I want to be enough for you.”

“You are enough for me.”

Kaeya’s hands brushed through your hair gently, his thumbs rubbing circles in your temple. Your eyes felt heavy and stung from your hysteria. You snaked your arms around Kaeya’s waist and managed to maneuver your bodies so you were both lying on your sides. Kaeya pulled you close to him and you found solace in the crook of his neck. Kaeya pressed soft, warm kisses all over your face and kissed away the rest of your tears.

“I love you, too,” He whispered.

Your eyes fluttered closed and Kaeya waited until your breathing was normal again to close his own. His hand found yours and laced your fingers together and in that moment you realized that this was the intimacy you were longing for so deeply. Your dream that night would haunt you probably for the rest of your life but as long as you could bring yourself back to reality, back to Kaeya, you would be okay.

Kaeya pressed a final kiss to your temple and spoke one last time before sleep overcame you both. Quoting your favorite book Kaeya said, “I’m in love with you, and I know that love in just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”

a/n: did i just quote tfios? yes <3

[targaryenimagines]

Just Wait

Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,989

Summary:

Notes: I hope this is all right. 

Dialogue Prompt:  “Try and stay calm, okay? Help is coming.”

The wind was howling through the air. Snow whipping past your face and obscuring your view. All that you could see were the elegant spikes of Rhaegal’s neck. The pebbled scales being the only comfort to your numbing hands. You wince as the winds howls were intersected by the wails of the damned. Glowing blue eyes appearing before your eyes as you blinked. 

Glancing down, you could see nothing but the unending swirl of white in the pitch blackness. 

How many of your friends had already perished below you? 

How many would you never see again? 

How many would you never be able to properly bury?

The questions only cause the growing pit in your stomach to become that much larger. Your hands clench around Rhaegal’s spike. Trying your best to keep your breath steady as he took another sharp turn. Your body pressing against his neck in order to stay upright. Squinting doing little to alleviate the temporary blindness the action caused. 

Craning your neck, you look up in hopes that the moon would be able to guide you to where you needed to be. You were only met by even more suffocating darkness-- even the clouds having lost their glow. Curses fall from your lips as you angle Rhaegal down into another dive. Getting too close to the ground could prove to be fatal but you had no choice; images of Viserion’s lifeless body falling from the sky comes unbidden to your mind at the thought. Your heart breaking all over again as you remember his pain-filled cry. How Rhaegal had echoed it as you both tried to desperately save him. Your gentle boy being swallowed by ice and snow; only to be awakened by the very thing that had cursed him. 

You hadn’t seen Viserion yet but you had heard his roars. The once gentle and calming sound turned ragged. A mournful howl for everything that was lost and that had to continue to be. In the same manner, you hadn’t seen Drogon or Daenerys since the battle had begun. Both you and Rhaegal taking to the outside defenses to make sure there wouldn’t be any stragglers. Even now you couldn’t hear the sounds of Drogon’s mighty roars or the cries of battle. 

You and Rhaegal were completely alone. In the ghost filled sky that promised nothing but despair when it used to offer nothing but freedom. 

That is until a sharp cry from above you caused every hair on your body to stand on end. Your head snapping up towards the sound, even as you made Rhaegal dive to the side, and nothing could have prepared you for the sight of seeing Viserion. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of seeing him so broken. His scales, once so vibrant, turned ashen and lifeless. 

His gentle face devoid of any emotion except for the mind-numbing coldness that seemed to be in constant supply in the North. 

Once golden eyes, that always reminded you of the sun, turned blue. Fire turning to ice. 

The only thing rivalling the horror you felt at seeing Viserion in such a state was seeing the thing that was riding him. The Night King’s cold eyes were watching your every movement as Rhaegal dipped lower and lower in the sky. Your attention diverted from his icy gaze towards Rhaegal as his wings narrowly escaped the tree tops. His body jolts as he tries to avoid the imminent collision. 

With your mouth pressed into a line, you force yourself to relax and remember everything you had learned over the years with Rhaegal. Every minute movement of his body and what that told you. Even if the Night King could control Viserion, he would never be able to fly like you could. You just had to get to Daenerys, to Drogon, and everything would be fine. 

Chancing one last glance towards him, you couldn’t help the sardonic smirk that pulled at your lips. “If you want me you’ll have to catch me you sick bastard.”

-----

In retrospect, taunting the Night King wasn’t the smartest plan. While you had the advantage of experience atop dragons. He held the advantage when it came being able to see where you were going. Which, in the grand scheme of things, was a very useful tool to have. 

As it wouldn’t be the first, or second, time you had almost slammed into something as you made your back towards Winterfell.

“How did we get so far out?” You hiss as you, yet again, dip Rhaegal into a dive to avoid Viserion’s talons. His disjointed shriek causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. You didn’t remember flying this far out from Winterfell but as each moment ticked by you could tell that you had somehow gotten turned around. We were only supposed to be a few minutes out at most. How did this happen?

Feeling the sudden breeze of air on your head, causes you to duck. Your head almost collided with Rhaegal’s neck as Viserion made another dive towards you. Feeling the slick feeling of liquid running down your neck, you raise your hand to the base of it. Letting loose a soft hiss as a sharp stab of pain is the response your body gives to the prodding. You know you didn’t have to look at your fingers to see that your glove was stained red. 

Catching sight of the beacon fires almost causes you to sob in relief. Your eyes welling up at the brilliant sight of light after spending so long in near darkness. The sounds of battle resounding out towards you like a choir. 

“Only a bit longer, Rhaegal,” you murmur against his neck. Feeling the way his breaths had gotten deeper. You don’t know how much longer he would be able to last if the pace continued like this. The constant bobbing and weaving through frozen air. Squeezing your eyes shut, you send a silent prayer to R’hllor to get you through this-- to get Rhaegal through this. “You’re doing so well. Just a bit longer and I promise you’ll be able to rest.”

Only a small snort was your response. The reaction caused a small smile to quirk your lips despite the situation you were in. His tenacious spirit hadn’t dimmed in the slightest even as his energy was so clearly waned. That’s my boy. 

Angling Rhaegal into a steep dive, you make your descent towards Winterfell. Your eyes desperately searching for Daenerys. Your breath catching when you finally caught sight of Drogon’s familiar form. His looming black shadow shifting over the battlefield as he and Daenerys dealt with the Wights. The Unsullied fight valiantly underneath their Khaleesi. You think you could even see Jorah shifting about with Jon Snow’s direwolf-- Ghost. 

Viserion’s sharp cry causes you to wince. Your head is already bowing as you twist Rhaegal into the opposite direction. Hoping that you would be able to be fast enough but you hadn’t reacted fast enough. Not as you felt Viserion slam into Rhaegal and press you down against his back. Your breath escaping you in a harsh exhale as Rhaegal tried desperately to free himself. His angry shrieks like daggers through your heart. 

Knowing that there was little else you could do; not when you and Rhaegal were so tired. You call for Daenerys-- hoping that your dragon would be able to get to you. Your eyes search for her violet as you begin your descent towards the snow covered ground. 

“Daenerys.”

------

“Daenerys.”

The sound of her name ripped through the air. Louder than any scream from the undead below her. Louder than any cry of the dying that would forever echo in her head. Louder than even Drogon was at his angriest. 

Her head snapping up in the direction the scream, no plea, had originated from. Her own beginning to form when she saw her mate and son in a spiral. She had known that Viserion was a slave of the Night King’s now but she had never truly prepared herself to see him. 

She had never thought it would be when he was clutching onto Rhaegal’s back. His talons like anchors against Rhaegal’s green hide. Rivulets of red already became obvious as her son struggled to break free. Struggled to protect his mother, his rider, from harm. She could even see your face from here. See the pain that was so clearly etched across your beautiful features. The blood that was becoming apparent through the stark white of your cloak. 

It was a sight that forced her into action. Nudging, Drogon in your direction as fast as he was able to go. Her heart hammering in her chest as Rhaegal let loose another cry of pain. As Viserion echoed it back with one of his own demented shrieks. Her two boys, that were closer than even she could comprehend, enemies because of the vileness that Westeros held. It brought tears to her eyes as Drogon finally got a hold of Viserion. His much larger form easily being able to overpower his brother. Claws ripping and tearing through brittle hide as he was tossed to the side. Little decorum being shown for what used to be his brother. 

Glancing down, Daenerys’s heart almost stops at the sight of Rhaegal’s still plummeting form. His wings weakly trying to keep him afloat but nothing would be able to stop his descent. She could see the wounds in his wings and the way his head was drooping which each second ticked by. Angling Drogon into a dive, Daenerys does everything she can to stop his descent. To stop him from hitting the ground but it was all in vain. 

Her widened gaze watching as Rhaegal was weakly able to run across the surface before crashing down completely. The form of his rider being thrown from his body into a heap on the icy landscape. 

Not thinking of much else, Daenerys jumps off of Drogon the moment his feet make contact with land. Her hand ran against Rhaegal’s neck in a quick search to make sure he was all right; relieved when she felt his heavy breathing through her glove. His steady warmth is still there despite everything.

With that task accomplished, she makes her way over towards the form of her mate. Her knees hitting the ground with preamble and she brought you into her arms. A worried gaze taking in every bruise and scrape that made up the expanse of your skin. Blood trickling down slowly from open wounds that didn’t look to be too deep. A relieved sob leaving her lips when she notices your breathing; while shallow it was something. 

Closing her eyes, Daenerys sends a silent thank you to whatever deity helped keep her mate and son safe. Her mouth pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she pulled you tighter into her embrace. Very much aware of Drogon’s presence wrapping around her. His protective stance warmed her heart.  

“Try and stay calm, okay?” She murmurs softly to herself as she pulls you tighter against her. Wanting to keep you as warm as she possibly could. “Help is coming.”

Glancing up, Daenerys could no longer see the various shadows of war against the landscape. Her heart thudding against her chest at what that could mean. Though none of it mattered if it meant that she lost you. 

Looking down, she presses another small kiss to your forehead and smiles despite the tears in her eyes. “I love you. If you hold on a bit longer I promise I will never leave your side again.” She nuzzles into your neck; needing to be surrounded by your scent. “You’ll be stuck with me. Just wait for help to come.”

Unbeknownst to Daenerys the slightest of smiles curled your lips at her words. You could never imagine not waiting for your dragon. 

[redorich]

Are we just not gonna talk about how False and Iskall literally kidnapped Bad are we just gonna let that slide or-

The basement is dim, made of various types of deepslate. The Hermits must have travelled very far, all the way to new unloaded chunks, just to get it. The place is clean, and the cell he's in has iron bars for the entire front wall--

<%̵̨͚̺̫̎͝m̶̧̹͕̈̕ͅ@̸̬͕̥̼͖̗̀͐͒̋a̸̩̎͛͛̈́͛̀̋̎͝g̶̥̾ŕ̴̛̺͂̓̑͝n̶̜̲̹̜̮̈̀.̵̼͎̜̗̠̳̫͉̜̀̌͒̑́͋4̴̧̮̥̱́̈́͑a̶͙͙̤̯̗͗̕ͅ> left the game.

The moment the Egg is killed, Bad can feel it wash over him. He screams-- the Egg is his baby, he loves the Egg, and its death feels like thorny vines are being torn out of his heart.

If only Puffy hadn't snitched to the Hermits! Bad's nose wrinkles disdainfully at the thought. She used to be such a good friend, and then she goes and has the Egg assassinated just because she's mad that Bad had Ant kill her son--

Bad had Ant kill her son.

He clutches his chest, horrified, as tears start to well up in his eyes. "What have I done?! Why did I do that?!"

False, the blonde woman who tackled him not two minutes ago, tilts her head in concern-- as if Bad deserves it. "Are you alright?" she says.

"No!" Bad wails, "The Egg is dead and-- and-- I hurt my friends!"

Iskall shifts uncomfortably. "Like... on purpose?"

"Yes! Well, no, but--" Bad swallows. "The Egg told me to, and I listened, why did I listen? Oh no, Skeppy! I killed Skeppy!"

Iskall reaches through the bars of Bad's cell to awkwardly pat the demon on the back as he sobs into his hands. Looking at False with alarm, Iskall wonders what the hell is going on upstairs.

[jeonsjiddies]

little things | jhs (m)

⏤  Pairing: single dad!Hoseok x reader ⏤  Genre: smut, fluff ⏤  Word Count: 6.1k ⏤  Warnings: very brief mentions of abortion (that didn’t happen), breast play, daddy kink, impregnation kink, cream pie, dirty talk

⏤  Summary: The best things in life are often unexpected. Like the two year old girl who ran up to you for comfort, and her devastatingly handsome father. 

Thank you to @excusemin​ and @sugaflake​ for beta reading. I love you.

Part of my Milestone Celebration Event! Check out the other fics here.

The weather was absolutely perfect. The sun was bright and shining but it wasn’t hot enough to make you sweat. The wind was gentle and rustled the leaves on the trees with a tender caress, the birds were singing, and for the first time in a while, you felt good. You had taken a walk to the nearby park, making a few laps around the walking trail before settling yourself against a tree to soak in some sun and relax. You had promised yourself you’d get out more after being holed up in your apartment alone with only your red wine and oreos to keep you company. It had been a few weeks since you’d broken up with your boyfriend of the time, and you were finally ready to become a productive citizen of society again.

It was the perfect day to do so in your opinion, everything around you seemed so tranquil. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the warm air to soothe you. That was, until you heard a shrill shrieking and your eyes popped open seconds before a girl who couldn’t have been older than two, catapulted herself into your arms. She was screaming, crying, clinging to you for dear life, one hand pointing behind her and you looked up to see a disgruntled goose hissing at the two of you, stalking closer with a threatening posture.

You slowly stood and backed up behind the tree, holding the small girl close to you, ready to use your body to shield her own. The goose hissed a few more times, but thankfully did not advance any closer. You waited, watching quietly, and it seemed to decide you weren’t worth it before hissing in warning once more and stalking off towards its nest. You let out a breath of relief, and tried to set the little girl down but she clung to you and made it clear she wasn’t letting go, so you rubbed her back soothingly.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” she sniffled into your neck.

“That’s okay, I’ll help you find them.”

You carried her closer to the playground section of the park, looking around for someone who might be looking for her. Soon you heard a frantic male voice booming through the air.

“Yeona! YEONA!”

The little girl’s head popped up at the sound, her head turning towards the voice.

“Daddy?”

You looked up and followed her line of sight, your gaze landing on a hunk of a man. He was tall, well-built but not bulky, with thick, black hair and lovely tan skin. The man’s eyes locked with the child in your arms and he visibly melted in relief seeing his daughter alive and unharmed. He ran over to the two of you quickly, guiding the fluffy dog on the leash with him. He reached the two of you almost instantly, and Yeona slipped from your arms into her father’s embrace easily, snuggling up to him.

“Thank goodness you’re okay! I was so worried!” he fretted, smoothing down her hair and fretting over her, causing her to let out the cutest giggle you’d ever heard in your life.

His gaze turned to you after he’d calmed down enough to pay attention to anything but the little girl in his arms, and it was then that you noticed his perfectly straight pearly white teeth, soft lips, and eyes that shimmered like diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as he watched you and then he began to ramble.

“Thank you so much, I am so sorry! Mickey got his leash tangled around a pole and I turned my back for two seconds and she was gone! I was so scared I thought I was going to throw up, I kept thinking about all those stories I heard about little girls getting kidnapped and sold into slavery and I think I almost passed out. Thank you so much for keeping her safe, I don’t know how I can ever repay you. She is my everything I don’t know what I’d do without her, she’s all I’ve got left and I…” he sighed, taking a deep breath and opening those shimmery eyes to meet yours once again, “thank you.”

“It’s really no problem, I get it. Kids can be a handful.” you smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you so much. For helping. For not judging. Oh! I’m Hoseok.” he extended a hand to you and you shook it gently, feeling sparks racing up your arm and down your spine but you shook them off.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

You both heard Yeona’s stomach growl and Hoesok laughed.

“Time for lunch, little one?”

She nodded and pouted adorably.

“Say bye to Y/N.”

Her little face scrunched up in displeasure and she started crying, reaching out desperately for you, and Hoseok almost dropped her from the unexpected shift in her weight. Taken aback, you allowed her to jump into your arms once more, cradling her close so she didn’t fall. She buried her head in your neck and you looked at Hoseok in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Yeona come on we have to go.” he tried prying her from your frame but she only wailed in response, clutching tighter.

“NO.”

“Yeona please, Y/N must want to go home.”

“No!” she sobbed.

You rubbed her back soothingly, rocking from side to side a bit to calm her down.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry. Look at me, okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face and you smiled.

“There’s a pretty girl!” you smiled, smoothing down some hair that had gone awry. “How’s this? If you go get lunch with daddy, I promise we can play together at the park soon. Okay? Well, if that’s alright with you?” you looked up at Hoseok.

“Of course!” he agreed quickly.

“But… I want you to come too.” she pouted, looking up at you with  pitiful puppy dog eyes.

You looked up at Hoseok for some direction and he watched the two of you carefully.

“Would you like to join us for lunch? My treat. As a thank you.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a shy smile gracing his lips.

“I don’t want to impose-” you began but Yeona whined loudly.

“Please!”

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off.

“Yay!” Yeona grinned, hugging you tightly then wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand, pulling you along with her towards the car.

Hoseok laughed and followed the two of you with Mickey on his leash. Yeona insisted that you sit with her in the back so she could show you her collection of stickers. You gave the appropriate excited responses to each one, even gifting you a shimmery mermaid, pressing it into your shirt, telling you it was her favorite but she wanted you to have it.

Hoseok pulled up to a local cafe that had outdoor seating, saying he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mickey in the car alone, a fact that warmed your heart. You helped Yeona slide onto the bench, Hoseok sitting across from the two of you. You ordered something cheap, not wanting to burden him, and made small talk while you waited for your food.

“Thank you again, so much, for keeping Yeona safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to her,” Hoseok sighed.

“No problem at all, thank you for lunch!”

Hoseok smiled, and turned to watch Yeona draw something on one of those kids menus they give out with crayons, her picture depicting the day at the park.

“So is your wife at work?” you asked, sipping on your soda, attempting to avoid the silence.

“I, uh, don’t have a wife,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize - your husband?”

“I’m single.” Hoseok laughed.

“Oh. So it’s just you raising Yeona?”

“Yeah, it’s been just us since the beginning. Her mom… it wasn’t a permanent thing, and when she realized she was pregnant, she wanted to…” he glanced over at Yeona, and though she was busy messing with Mickey, Hoseok still imitated the scissor motion with his hands, rather than saying the word.

Your eyes grew wide and you glanced over at Yeona.

“I mean, I believe in choices, don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t imagine that happening to my child. I begged her to reconsider and promised I wouldn’t ask for anything if she let me keep Yeona, and here we are.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you watched his face for a reaction.

“You don’t have to say anything! I just wanted to thank you again.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same, I hope.”

“You would hope, but oftentimes I just get judgemental looks or scowls. People aren’t very kind to single parents, apparently,” he sighed, twirling the straw around in his drink, “so your kindness is appreciated.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you’ve been treated that way. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to raise a child alone. If you never need anything, you can call me? If you feel comfortable?” you offered, holding out your phone.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Hoseok’s eyes widened in shock.

You shook your head with a smile, handing over your phone for him to input his number and texted him so he had yours. Hoseok looked star struck, and you wondered why someone so bright and happy could receive such backlash. You couldn’t focus on that thought for long, because Yeona jumped up excitedly, clapping and pointing to the waiter who was bringing your food.

You helped her cut hers into smaller bites and entertained her throughout the meal whilst eating yours so Hoseok could relax and enjoy his food, and you didn’t miss the appreciative smile he sent you.

Throughout the next few months, you spent more and more time with both Hoseok and Yeona. You’d meet them at the park, accompany them on little adventures, video chat with them before bed. You began hanging out at their house, spending your days nestled in the crook of their couch with Yeona snuggled up against your side while you watched Frozen 2 for the six hundredth time, or conducting a rather elegant tea party in which you’d convinced Hoseok to wear a tiara for.

You spent so much time around the pair, their home had begun to feel like a home away from home. You often found yourself crashing on the couch after playing too hard and staying too late. You searched YouTube and learned how to french braid since Yeona couldn’t stop talking about “princess hair” and Hoseok was… less than talented with her hair. You would sit behind her on her bed, braiding her hair and telling her silly stories and jokes, and began to love the little girl as your own.

Hoseok would sneak up behind you and attack the both of you with tickles or start a bubble fight. Sometimes it was hard to forget you weren’t a family, especially when strangers in public mistook you for one. You’d blush and look away, while Hoseok would gently correct them… at first. Slowly, Hoseok stopped correcting them, saying they could think whatever they wanted.

You tried not to read too much into that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when he would just let other people think that you were together, that you were a family. Sometimes, he’d even play it up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close, purposefully giving people the wrong idea with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You’d try to hide the heat on your skin, the way your heart pounded, the way your breathing seemed a little uneven when he got too close. While you’d just seen Hoseok as an attractive man and a wonderful father at first, the more time you spent with him, the more you had begun to fall for him. He was so sweet and funny and kind and cared about Yeona so much it burned your insides with joy.

The nights when you’d stay, you both had a habit of sipping on a glass of wine while you chatted, just enjoying each other’s company, and enjoying the peace and quiet. You’d never trade Yeona for anything, but sometimes she was so energetic the both of you couldn’t quite keep up, needing to unwind and relax after she’d fallen asleep.

You’d met his friends and parents at Yeona’s third birthday party, and they loved you as much as Hoseok did, a fact that caused his bright smile to glow to the point he rivaled the sun. You’d become a staple in their lives, a constant, someone they could rely on. It was crazy to you how one fateful day had changed the course of your life, and these two unsuspecting strangers had grabbed onto your heart and refused to let go. You couldn’t say you were complaining though.

Not when you were the cause of Yeona’s adorable little giggle, her tiny hands coming to cover her face while her entire frame shook from the force of her laughter. Not when you’d look over and catch Hoseok watching the two of you with a wistful, joyful expression. Not when he’d join the fun and you’d both chase her around the yard, Mickey following and barking while his tail wagged a million miles an hour.

There had even been a few nights you’d awoken on their couch to find Yeona crawling up next to you, whimpering pathetically as she mumbled “bad dream” and reached to you for comfort. You’d hold her close and stroke her hair, humming gentle lullabies to soothe her weary young mind. There were nights when you weren’t there and you’d get a FaceTime call at an unholy hour, Hoseok apologizing, saying Yeona wouldn’t go back to sleep without speaking to you.

You’d comfort her and assure her everything was alright, and you would visit her soon, and the two of you would have so much fun she wouldn’t even remember why she was sad in the first place. Hoseok would thank you, apologizing that he couldn’t convince her to leave you be, and you’d shrug him off, telling him you were available anytime. You loved her and would do anything to make her happy. What you didn’t tell him was that the same applied to him...

It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted him, how badly you wanted to be a true part of their little family. You knew you had a special place in their hearts, that you were an honorary part of the family, but you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what it might have been like if you were to be with Hoseok, if you were to accept Yeona as your own. Would you be able to make them happy? Or would you just be trying to fill a void meant for someone else? You’d shrug those thoughts away as soon as they came and focus on living your life as normally as you could.

That’s when your other thoughts about Hoseok would set in. To say you wanted Hoseok would be quite the understatement. Yes, you wanted to be a part of their family in the simplest ways, to be there for them and love them unconditionally, but there was also that lingering attraction. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him some days when he laughed, when his shirt rode up and accidentally displayed the trail of hair leading down to the promised land.

When he’d display his strength by helping you move something, or when he’d wrap his arms around you just a little too tightly, allowing your bodies to press against each other. If you weren’t cooing over how cute the two of them were, you were thirsting over Hoseok and trying desperately to think innocent thoughts, lest your arousal get so potent he would notice.

Once, you’d gone to the pool with Hoseok and Yeona, thinking nothing of the invite until you’d shown up in your bikini, ready to swim. Hoseok had physically ceased moving and his gaze had slowly trailed down your body, drinking in the sight of you so scantily-clad. His gaze had your skin burning more than the hot summer sun and you squirmed under his undivided attention, unable to stop yourself from also peeking a glance at his shirtless chest. Smooth skin, abs that weren’t too defined but were definitely there, that drool-worthy v shape that disappeared into his trunks…

You’d both snapped back to reality when Yeona had whined loudly, asking you to play with her under the waterfall station. Heat had flooded your cheeks and Hoseok had looked down with a guilty expression, scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle, saying he’d find a chair to place your items at and would meet the two of you over there.

There was also the time you’d come over for movie night a little earlier than planned and Hoseok had answered the door in a towel, loosely hung low on his hips and you’d been mesmerized by the water droplets that slowly traveled down his almost naked body. You’d audibly sucked in a breath, your mouth parting just slightly, and Hoseok had apologized, then rushed off to get dressed, but you hadn’t gotten the image out of your mind since.

On Friday night, you’d just arrived home after a long day at work, flinging yourself onto the couch with your amazon package in hand, a cute JoJo bow you’d picked up for Yeona after seeing it on the app during your late night scrolling. All your targeted ads were now centered around items for young girls rather than women your own age from you spoiling the young girl so much. You smiled to yourself and just as the thought had left your mind, your phone rang.

“Y/N!” Hoseok gasped, sounding panicked.

You immediately sat up, “what’s wrong?”

“I have this event for work tonight that I absolutely can not miss and my babysitter just cancelled. I tried calling the guys, my mom, everyone! No one’s available and I hate to ask this, but do you think you could watch Yeona? I swear it’ll only take like, two hours! Tops!”

“Hobi, calm down. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?!” he sighed in relief.

“You ordered me pizza for tonight.”

“You got it. The usual?”

“You’re the best, I’ll see you soon.”

You hoisted yourself up from the couch and trudged out the door, making quick work of your drive to Hoseok’s place. The door swung open before you could even knock, and Yeona flung herself into you, wrapping her arms around your legs, then reaching up for you to hold her. You leaned down and picked her up, snuggling her close to you as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“Daddy said you’re going to play with me! By ourselves!” she bounced excitedly in your arms.

“It’s true! Are you excited?”

“Yes!”

You giggled and placed her on the ground, turning to Hoseok who was slipping his jacket on. He leaned in to give you a tight, thankful hug that allowed you to smell his intoxicating aftershave. You swooned silently to yourself, hugging him back.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The pizzas on the way, I already put the tip in. I will be back by 8 at the latest!”

“Take your time, I love hanging out with Yeona.” you reassured him.

He shot you an appreciative smile before leaning down and kissing Yeona on the cheek, then absentmindedly doing the same to you before rushing out the door. You stood frozen in place, staring at the closed door Hoseok had just exited from, shell shocked until Yeona tugged at your tights, forcing you to avert your attention to her and not your racing heart.

“Y/N, come play.”

“Oh! Right. I got you a present,” you dug into your purse and pulled out the shimmery bow, clipping it into her hair.

“Jojo!” she shrieked excitedly.

You giggled and followed along as she tugged you towards the mirror, surveying her new bow and twirling around like the diva she was.

“I look like a princess!” she said in awe, her eyes shining.

“You are a princess!”

Her chubby little cheeks tinged pink with glee and she pulled you into her room, deciding she wanted to play dress-up with her princess dresses and find the one that matched the bow the most. Mickey lay on her bed, looking up at you with curiosity and wagging his tail. You sat beside him and gently stroked his head, causing him to nuzzle into your touch.

You watched with amusement as Yeona tore apart her closet to find the best dress to go with her new bow, absentmindedly picking up the used dresses and hanging them back up for her. If she drug out her toys though, you’d make her pick those up. But she was just having so much fun you didn’t want to interrupt, and the clutter bothered you so you picked it up in between your choruses of “ooh I like that one” and “you look so pretty!”

The doorbell rang, causing Mickey to let out a protective bark and you soothed his fur down before standing to open the door. The man on the other side greeted you warmly, asking you to sign the receipt for the pizza, which you did, before wishing him a good night. You drooled a bit, smelling your favorite toppings that Hoseok had remembered to order.

“Yeona! Dinners here!” you called, grabbing two plates and setting the table.

Yeona came skipping into the kitchen, and you helped her climb into the booster seat on her favorite chair before placing a bib on her so she didn’t ruin her dress. You cut the pizza slice into more manageable pieces for Yeona to eat before sliding into your own chair, biting into the heavenly food. You groaned happily and Yeona giggled, eating hers with her little cartoon character utensils.

Putting the leftovers in the fridge to ensure Hoseok had a snack later, knowing he didn’t eat before rushing off to work, you continued to play with Yeona for about an hour or two before she started yawning and you checked the clock, realizing it was almost bedtime. You helped her clean up the toys and mess you’d both made before pulling out some pajamas for her and assisting her with brushing her teeth.

You tucked her into bed and she pulled on your sleeve, looking up at you with the sweetest puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Are you going to read me a story like daddy does?”

“I can! What do you want to read?”

“If you give a mouse a cookie!”

You grinned and grabbed the book off the shelf, leaning against the headboard next to Yeona and began reading.

“If a hungry little mouse shows up on your doorstep, you might want to give him a cookie. And if you give him a cookie, he'll ask for a glass of milk. He'll want to look in a mirror to make sure he doesn't have a milk mustache, and then he'll ask for a pair of scissors to give himself a trim…”

About halfway through the book, Yeona’s eyes started drifting closed, but her little hand reached out to hold onto your free one, and you looked down at her, setting the book down in your lap.

“I love you, Y/N,” Yeona mumbled, snuggling closer to the warmth of your body.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” you cooed, smoothing her hair out of her face with a tender touch.

“Wish you were my mommy.” she sighed, barely awake.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. You didn’t know how to respond, but thankfully she didn’t seem to be looking for one, her eyelids fluttering shut before you heard her soft, even breathing.

“Baby girl, I would never leave you behind if I were,” you whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear as you continued to stroke her hair, “I would take care of you, my love. I wish I was your mommy too.”

You watched her sleep for a little while longer, her precious face looking so peaceful and pure. You wondered how anyone could ever walk away from such a beautiful little girl. Stroking her hair one last time, you stood and placed the book back on the shelf, exiting the room with Mickey on your heels and slowly shutting the door.

You let him outside to use the bathroom and gave him a treat before settling into the couch with him in your lap, petting him absentmindedly as your thoughts raced with the events of the night. How Yeona had been so cute dressing up, had been so entertaining with the little tea party you’d both held, how she’d told you she wished you were her mom… How Hoseok had kissed your cheek, clearly not thinking about it, and doing it out of habit, but how it had sent your heart lurching out of your chest. Just as the thought of Hoseok had crossed your mind, the door opened and Hoseok rushed inside, quietly but profusely apologizing for being late.

“I am so sorry, the function ran over and I was on the cleanup crew so I couldn’t leave.” Hobi whisper-shouted.

“It’s fine, I had fun, I barely realized what time it was. Yeona’s asleep.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Hoseok gushed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and hold out some bills for you to take.

You looked up at him with one eyebrow arched, a sassy look on your face, and that had him putting the money away.

“Are you sure? I can pay you, I know you probably had other plans, it is Friday night after all.”

“Hobi, there is nowhere I would rather be, no matter what day of the week it is.” you smiled.

“You’re a god-send.” he groaned.

“It’s late, I should get going.” you smiled, seeing how exhausted he was and wanting to get out of his hair.

“Nooo, it’s too late for you to drive home alone. What if you fall asleep at the wheel? You should just stay. You can take my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your room. I can take the couch.”

“Are you thirsty? Want some wine?” he offered, walking backwards towards the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Hoseok grabbed two glasses of wine and the bottle, setting the objects on the coffee table in front of you and easing himself into the seat beside you, and you both sipped on the dark red liquid as you talked.

“I really am so thankful for your help tonight, all your help with Yeona. It’s not easy doing everything on my own. I know I have my parents and the guys, but sometimes I wonder if I’m giving her the best life or if I’m holding her back from having a happy family,” he sighed.

“Hobi, that little girl adores you, there is no one she’d rather have as her father.”

“I know, but is that what’s best for her? Doesn’t she need a mom?”

“She needs people who love her and support her, and she has that,” you comfort, rubbing his back soothingly, “she has you, the guys, her grandparents, me…”

“You’re right, thank you. I just get insecure sometimes, thinking she deserves better than… well, me.”

“Hobi, you’re an amazing dad! You’re so good with her, you’re raising her so well. She’s sweet and smart and well-behaved. She is so loved and it shows, because she displays love. You are a wonderful father, and you are more than enough.”

“Thank you, really. You always know just what to say. I’m so glad I met you, you’ve been so good to Yeona and I.” he smiled.

“I’m glad I met you too, you two are so important to me! I couldn’t imagine a life without you both in it.”

“...really?”

“Of course!” you immediately replied with conviction, holding onto Hoseok’s hand without realizing it.

Hands still in yours, Hoseok’s gaze lifted to meet your own, and you didn’t shy away like you’d immediately wanted to, wanting to both comfort him, and also look into his beautiful eyes for a moment more. You couldn’t believe Hoseok was insecure about his abilities to raise Yeona, he was the best father you’d ever seen,  one of the million things you’d come to love about him. His eyes flickered from yours to your lips momentarily, and he slowly leaned closer to your now-shivering frame.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off,” he whispered as he closed the gap between your lips.

You didn’t say anything, instead opting to close the remaining distance yourself, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. Hobi scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you against his body, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck. The kiss was sweet and tentative at first but quickly lit a fire inside your core, and somehow, you found yourself straddling his lap, grinding your core down on his semi-hard erection.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groaned, moving his kisses down to your neck, muttering into your skin, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too.” you admitted through breathless exhales, working your hips against his while he worked his lips against your skin.

You slipped your fingers under his shirt, feeling his stomach up to his nipples, grazing your nails gently across the buds, causing his body to jerk towards you. You smirked to yourself, lifting the shirt which he aided you in removing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his smooth, tan skin. You gently nudged him backwards until his head rested on the arm of the couch, and kissed your way down his torso until you reached the hem of his jeans.

Hoseok’s breath hitched as you undid his belt, looking up at him to make sure it was okay and he grinned at you, running his hand through your hair to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. You took that as an okay and slid his jeans and boxers down just enough to reveal his throbbing length, precum, leaking from the tip. You licked along the slit, gathering the precum on your tongue and swallowing, making a pleased noise in the back of your throat.

Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip and watching you lick a bold stripe along the underside, your hand reaching to cup his balls while you sunk down on his length, hollowing your cheeks around his throbbing member. Hoseok gripped your hair a little tighter in an attempt not to buck up into your mouth. You took him as deep as you could, letting the tip hit the back of your throat as you sucked him for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he moaned helplessly, his grip on your hair loosening.

In response, you simply bobbed your head up and down faster, sucking harder on his length, using every trick you had to get him to his orgasm. Hoseok groaned, probably a little too loudly, before tapping the side of your cheek to warn you, but you didn’t pull away. Hoseok groaned, his back arching off the couch as he spilled his seed down your throat and you swallowed it all, licking your lips once you’d pulled off of his softening cock.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

You giggled and leaned up to peck his lips, which he returned with fervor, licking along your bottom lip and deepening the kiss, pulling you closer , letting your hips settle atop his while his mouth worked against your own.

“I really want to be inside you,” he groaned.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you pleaded, grinding yourself on his length, and you felt it stir to life once more.

“Need to prep you.”

“No, I’m so fucking wet for you, I’m ready,” you groaned, lifting yourself off of him to shed your panties from under your skirt, bunching it up around your hips and lining your entrance with his now-erect penis.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, sinking down on his member and groaning at the way he stretched your walls, the slight burn being aided by the amount of arousal that had pooled in your cunt, allowing his length to slip into your inviting heat with minimal resistance. Hoseok bit down on his arm, holding in a moan at the feeling of your wet cavern wrapped around his cock so perfectly.

Hoseok’s hands came to rest on your hips, guiding your pace as you bounced on his cock, riding him with enthusiasm, your walls clenching around him each time the tip of his cock kissed that special spot inside you. Hoseok lifted his hips to meet yours, keeping time with your thrusts and you bit down on your lip to hold in a moan.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?” you wondered, swiveling your hips down on him.

“Every night since I met you,” he admitted.

“Fuck, Hobi. Me too. Want you so bad,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? You want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to fill this pretty pussy with my seed? Fuck a baby into you?” he growled and you clenched at the words.

“Yes, fuck.”

“Mmm, you like that? Wanna be filled with Daddy’s cum? Wanna see it drip out of that tight little pussy.” he groaned, speeding up his thrusts.

“Hobi, yes,” you whined, his dirty words spurring you closer to your release, “close.”

“Me too, baby. Come on, cum for me,” he urged, leaning up to bring one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your orgasm crashed over you the moment his tongue ran over the sensitive bud. You held your breath to keep from crying out as Hoseok worked you through your high, reaching his before you had finished yours, the feeling of his warm seed filling your battered hole making your orgasm even more intense.

Coming down from your highs, you lifted your hips to allow his length to slip out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your sex, running down your leg and his. Hoseok groaned at the sight, pulling you into his chest. You snuggled up to him for a moment before you both got up to clean up, him assisting you by gently running a damp rag along your folds and you running it along his leg to clean up the mess you’d both made.

You pulled your clothes back on and Hoseok grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom and offering you a t-shirt to sleep in. You weren’t sure he would want you to stay, but you were thankful he did. And not on the couch. After changing into Hobi’s clothes and cuddling up to him, his arm wrapped around your middle, you felt at ease. Hobi was the first to break the silence.

“Please tell me this means you’ll be mine,” he whispered against the skin of your neck while placing little kisses along the skin there.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine,” you answered, leaning down to capture his lips with yours.

One year later 

Pushing the key in the lock of your brand new house, you opened the door and looked around the foyer, and heard little footsteps running through the hall, a sweet giggle echoing.

“Mommy! You’re home!” Yeona grinned, launching herself into your arms, and you spun her around, holding her close to your chest.

“I’m home, baby girl. How was your day?”

“It was good! I missed you though, you and my baby sister!” she grinned, her tiny, chubby hand caressing your plump belly.

“We missed you too, pumpkin. Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s in his office, he’s been boring today, but he did take a break to play with me. He doesn’t play dress up like you do, you’re more fun,” she whined, clutching at your neck.

“Hmmm, how about we play a little before dinner then?”

She squealed excitedly, wiggling out of your grasp and running to her room. You followed behind her, leaning up against Hoseok’s office door on the way.

“Hey, handsome.”

Hoseok looked up, immediately standing and walking up to you, his hand gently caressing your baby bump while he pressed his lips to yours.

“Welcome home, baby. And baby,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, pecking his cheek.

“Yeona says you’re boring and don’t play dress up the right way,” you smirked, mocking him.

Hoseok groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes dramatically before his smile reached his eyes as he softly said, “Well, it’s a good thing we have you.”

[mssirey]

The Terrors of Being Alone

A small continuation of this.

Lena didn’t send her away.

That was the best Kara could have hoped for. All she had hoped for. 

Lena thanked her at the airport. It was a whispered gratitude, but Kara could not mistake the gentleness for shyness, knew better than to assume the reservations were just the lingering awkwardness of not knowing where they stood. 

After all, Lena had been there, had been integral to her rescue, had made her stance clear. She had placed herself on Kara’s side, fixed herself in the company of heroes, rooted and sure. It was where she belonged, too. Always had. 

Kara had seen it, known it, but never took the step—the one step—that could have made it happen, that could have cemented Lena’s position among the SuperFriends. 

But now things had shifted in her absence. Lena was recognized—by the others and by herself—as part of the team. There was no dispute, no question, nothing that should have made the ground between them hard to traverse.

And yet, as they slipped into the car that would take them to the remote town, there was quiet. Too much quiet. 

The minutes dragged into hours, much like days had tumbled into years, and through it all, Kara was trapped in her head. She screamed until she was hoarse, pleaded with herself to take action, to reach through the walls she put up herself, but in there the yellow sun made no difference. 

It wasn’t until they arrived that Kara realized that Lena was waiting for them to be alone. They had not even brought Lena’s bags up the narrow, sagging stairwell that winded its way to the lofted bedroom. The only light they had touched cast stark shadows over the sparingly furnished kitchen, barely illuminated the age stained tablecloth that hid the slight lean of the legs. 

“Why are you here?”

Kara had to let the words echo, to filter out the anticipation of accusation that twisted their meaning. The gentleness remained, Lena’s gaze shifting between downcast and a guarded sadness that better pierced the cage Kara trapped herself within. 

“I told you,” Kara started, forced to clear her throat, too dry—and not from the brine in the air, “you don’t have to—” 

Lena didn’t let her finish. “I heard what you said,” she sighed, “but what did you mean?”

The silence that bled into the small room came from Kara, from the tightness in her throat and squeeze of her ribs around empty lungs. 

“Kara, I know I’ve missed things before—” there is a sourness they are both forced to swallow, a shared grimace, touched with guilt and doing little to relieve the ache that saw the merging of hollow chests and stomachs. “I know—especially now—when you are not being straight with me. You always dance around things the same way,” Lena trembled, that little tremor in her chin, the minute flutter of her eyelashes as she kept the tears that gleamed in the dim light at bay, “with sweetness and care and… and gestures.” 

Kara hated the way her mind reminded her of the door at her back, only three paces away, nothing else between her and escape, but worse still was that fear was what kept her rooted in place. It froze her muscles, more familiar than she could stomach acknowledging. 

But as she stiffened with it, Lena was free to approach, seemingly affected by the gravity of the gaping hole that opened up inside her and dragged everything into it. Part of her wanted to shield Lena from it, knowing how easily she could be swallowed in its depths, but another was desperate for her to be close. That was the part that melted into shaking hands as they cupped her cheeks, hot tears running down to meet clammy thumbs, spilling into the crevices that shrank as she pressed forward. 

“It’s okay.” 

A lie and a wish and a promise, all at once, diverging with the shift of subject. Kara was not okay, but she wished for them to be, and Lena promised that honesty would not be what ended them. 

But it was dishonesty that had shaped her life—starting with the truth her parents withheld from a dying planet, leading to an inauthentic existence on a world that wanted her to only ever be human, culminating in a cycle she had yet to free herself from. It was a web spun of noble intentions—meant to protect, to shelter—but the narrative unraveled under close inspection, left her tangled in the threads of fear that remained. 

The blurred image of Lena offered salvation, but she didn’t know how to accept it, didn’t know how to extricate herself when the lie was also a haven. It buried her, suffocated her, but it was something to hold on to. If she was honest, that husk of a relationship she clutched with shaking, desperate hands might crumble. 

“I—“ her voice cracked harshly, the squeaky eke of breath that followed a byproduct of her flinch. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

That time the quiet was a stretched pause, the confused twitch of Lena’s brow barely visible. “But you aren’t alone,” she noted with the lilt of a question tugging at the end. 

“No, I know,” Kara exhaled in a rush of breath, her shoulders sagging as she deflated, straining beneath her own weight. “I just— I’ve been—” 

The ice that filled her lungs crystallized between each cell, shredded her apart as she begged her body to remember anything else. She wished she had been taken too—not left the lone survivor, stranded without a reason to hope for anything else. 

She strained in an effort to wail into the maw of endless nothing, paralyzed and forced to endure years of silence. Years of cold. 

Alone. 

“I’ve been alone,” she sobbed, the croak of her words grating on her already sensitive nerves. “But that’s… I— oh, Lena… I didn’t mean to let it shape me, or to let that— to let my fears erode what we had.” It had been easier to hold too tight than to admit she was wrong, or to acknowledge that her own hands were what strangled the life from them. “After losing so, so many people, you’d think that one more would…” she couldn’t even bring herself to finish the thought. 

“But you aren’t just one person, Lena, and I’m sorry I… I’m sorry I let my fears come before your trust.”

[harveywritings92]

BNHA Dad scenario: Someone hits you.

Summary: You're around 8 playing or trying to get you parents attention, someone hits accidentally or on purpose, your father took exception to this. and decided to return the favor with interest.

-------------------------

Shigaraki: All the senior members of the league knew who you were and knew to never mess with Shigaraki's princess, unless they wanted to be a pile of rot on the floor.. however there were was a newbie about 18 years old who just recently joined had no idea who you were and thought you were some street brat and the resident punch bag, so imagine his surprise when he demanded you hand over your Gameboy, and you told him to go suck a lemon bad move.

You were kicked in the ribs sent airborne toward the wall and crashed into and fell to the floor clutching your stomach in pain. "Next time I ask for something you give it to me you little brat!" the boy sneered before looking down at your crying shaking body and heard you calling out. "Daddy...daddy..." He started laughing at your wailing and tried to get everyone else on his side, but no one moved they just stared at (dickhead) in horror he looked at them all confused.

"C'mon what the hells wrong with you guys?" as you were hyperventaling as the door to the back opened in stepped Shigaraki who looked around the bar confused why everyone was so quiet before hearing you crying and wheezing and his red eyes zeroed in on his daughter on the floor and (Dickhead) walking over to him with this shit eating grin holding your Gameboy … 

"Hey boss you like gaming, you got any-" Shigaraki shoved him and made a bee-line towards you and he crouched down carefully helped you sit up , you were clutching your ribs. "D-daddy.." you stammered as your dad shushed you and pulled your shirt up, if they thought Tomura was mad before they were wrong! the second he saw the large bruise on your stomach, he saw red...  "it's all right Princess Daddy's got you." he cooed picking you up ( he's got gloves on) keeping your face tucked in his shoulder.

Shigaraki then turned towards (dickhead) who's cocky grin turned to a confused pout as he tried processing what was going on, as your dad started slowly walking towards him, stoned faced red eyes alight with rage as he brought his free hand up to his mouth taking his glove off with his teeth, (dickhead)'s face slowly contorted in horror as he realized you weren't some random brat they picked up off streets!

You were his boss's kid! and he punted you across the bar for a toy! "Hey-I-i didn't know man,-s she can have it back-" the last thing he saw was Shigaraki's hand coming for his face, everyone in the bar looked away or down at their drinks "Someone clean that up." Your dad ordered as he calmly put his glove back on and stepped over a pile of dust and clothes as he took you to the doctor to make sure that waste of an NPC didn't break your ribs.

----------------------------------------

Kirishima: You were both at the bank you were off to the side fidgeting with your dress waiting for your dad to finish up at the teller and decided to  wander around the lobby, checking around if there any candy bowls around here, when you bumped into another adult a balding mad who's back was to you, "oops I'm sorr-" You were cut off by a loud crack! and suddenly you found yourself floor clutch your stinging cheek stunned as this angry red faced man screamed in your face. "I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THE FUCKING CAR (random boys name!)!?" You there was tense ringing in your ears as you burst out wailing as the demeanor changed as he finally got a good look at you and in horror realized you were a little girl and not his son. 

"uh-r" Just then Red blur came running at him and he was punched in the jaw by rock hard fist that sent him flying through the bank's glass door by a very pissed off Eijirou, who looked like was gonna kill him before he felt she daughter hug his leg, which she does when she wants to go home, his red eyes looked down at you the back the man who was being check on by the bank security, then back to you starring back at him tearfully, your dad took a deep breath picked you up and kissed the bruise forming on you cheek, and told manager he'll pay for the window. "YOU'RE MEAN!" you screamed at the man who hit you who was now awake with his actual son who was a teenager was standing awkward to the side looking embarrassed, the man flinched when your dad shot him a glare as you both passed him.

A week later the jerky dad had the gall to try taking your dad to court, the judge got one look at the security footage and your still healing face and laughed in the guys face and threw the case out.

-----------------------------------------------------

Dabi: Your mom was the owner of his favorite Dive bar, They don't ask questions and he don't give answers, Anyway mom had stepped out to get weekly restock delivery and left Dabi in charge, things were wrapping up for the night when you had wandered down from the upstairs apartment way passed your bed. "Hey ,Firefly what're you doing up?" he said picking you up and sitting you on his lap. 

"Was the music too loud?" You shook your head he hummed you weren't feeling well and woke up, went looking for one of you parents, he felt how hot your forehead was under his chin and frowned. "Want some ginger ale?" he aske rubbing your back you uh-huh'd as your dad leaned over the bar grabbed a glass and went to grab the dispenser hose for the ginger ale.

Meanwhile some scantily dressed chick who been eyeing your dad like a hungry dog all night was angerly made her way over, in her drunken haze she saw another woman cuddled up to him instead of a little girl, stomped over to bar and before Dabi could register what was going on a nasally voice sneered "Get off my man whore!" and a manicured hand suddenly reached out and grabbed a fist full of your hair and tried yanking you out of his lap!

"Eek Daady!" You screamed in pain as your dad whipped around "What the hell?" Dabi snarled grabbing the woman's arm and using his quirk to burn her, the painted hussy let out this pterodactyl like screech and let go of your hair, then you threw up on her legs causing her to scream louder "My shoes!!!?" she shrieked and went to hit you, but Dabi had ignited his hand and stopped her. 

"Get the fuck out, before I melt your fucking face..." Dabi hissed as you held on to him like a baby koala crying and shaking like a leaf, Your dad watched the bouncer throw the bitch out, while she bitched and cried about knowing the owner and how he'll beat Dabi's ass. "And then you'll sorry!" she wailed as the bouncer shoved her away. "Oh we'll see about that..." Dabi mused as he tried calming you down and making sure she didn't hurt you too badly.

True to her word the bitch came to complain to the owner not realizing that A. the owner was a woman, B. they were Dabi wife, and C) the mother of that "midget whore" who barfed on her fake designers shoes. Dabi watched from the upstairs window calmly sipping his morning coffee as the woman said her sob story and demanded compensation! 

He smirked as your mom nodded calmly put the empty keg she was carrying on her shoulder down on the sidewalk, and without saying a word deck the woman in the face knocking her out cold. "There's your compensation..." She huffed then calmly picked the keg back up and put it on the truck, Dabi whistled at her "Say babe, have I ever told you how much I love you?" he said watching her from the open window your mom blushed flipped him off, he chuckled he could see her smiling. 

---------------------------

Katsuki: it was Kirishima it was you birthday and he was showing his quirk off to some of the kids when you ran into his elbow, knock on your butt sat there for a few seconds as your uncle and parents fussed over you, Eijirou was apologizing to you asking if you were alright? you just stared at them blankly before grimacing, causing your mom to bring her hand up towards your mouth and like that you spat a tooth out into the palm of her hand, her [y/ec] eyes widened while your dad and and uncle started freaking out...

Well.... more like your dad had uncle Kirishima by the shirt collar threatening to destroy him! while Eijirou came saying how sorry he was and it was an accident! while they were yelling your mom checked your mouth carefully counting your teeth, then sighed in relief before turning your dad. "Katsuki...." your dad didn't hear her as he was telling Kirishima to pay for you dental work!

"Katsuki." she tried again, but he was too far gone. "Alright you asked for it!" she yelled finally getting Katsuki's attention when he realized she was going use her quirk. "Hon, wai-" too late your mom snapped her fingers and your dad, still holding Kirishima, was frozen in place. Your mom calmly brought you over to your them and had you open your mouth and show him the "Damage" your dad's red eyes looked at you then back at your mom who was holding the tooth. "He knocked out that tooth... we were gonna have, y'know?" His eyes widened as he realized Shitty-Hair had knocked out a stubborn baby tooth that refuse to fall out, and were gonna have it pulled next week...

Your mom unfroze your dad and he dropped Kirishima before taking the tooth to examine it, making sure it really the right tooth, and he seemed to calm down, muttering an apology to Kirishima, then whispered something to you mom that made her blush. "You better be ready for it..." he purred in her ear, while you stared up at your parents confused. "Ready for what?" you asked innocently they both froze before Kirishima grabbed your hand. "say kiddo, let's see if (Kirishima's kid.) wants to play!" he said making a hasty get away with you.  

[undermattsun-archive]

ligaments

kageyama tobio x reader | w.c 588

a/n: dislocation daddy dislocation daddy dislocation daddy... 

18+ set post time skip

warnings: INJURY (DISLOCATION), dubcon bordering noncon, tobio my beloved following his devious thoughts over considering readers feelings lmao, fainting/passing out

There’s a curious glint in his eyes that spells out a certain doom for you. Something bouncing around in that round head of his head that can only be satiated by completing whatever inane idea that’s popped into it. 

“Thinkin’ a little too hard for a man in the middle of round three.” You manage to pant out, twisting around a little to see the thoughtful furrow of his brows. 

He plants a hand between your shoulder blades, silently commanding you keep your chest flush against the sheets. Skilled fingers trace over your spine, dragging along to trace over the sharp curve of your shoulder.

“How far can you bend?” The question comes out so soft you’re unsure if it’s meant for your ears, simply meant to be something for himself.

There’s some witty response in the back of your exhausted, fucked out mind, interrupted by another question that sends a rush down your spine and leaving you clenching around his thick cock.

“How far until you break?” It’s said in quiet reverence, perfectly maintained fingers continuing to dance along your heated skin, there’s a hitch in your breath, a rasp in his.

Whatever he’s thinking, it fills you with a curiosity that leaves you on edge, tinged with a. fear that leaves you unsure if you want to know just what taints his thoughts.

He pulls out, an involuntary whine falling from your lips as he twists you around until you land on your back, too spent to argue as you watch his little curiosities continue to grind away at the gears in his head.

“Tobio.” You whisper, hand rising to cup at his cheek, a little concerned at how hard he’s thinking.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He takes your hand, bringing the palm to his lips to settle a tender kiss before moving to grab at your wrist.

He begins to pull and pull, his other hand landing with his palm planting against your sternum and fingers splaying across your throat.

A question bubbles in the back of your mind, still unsure of what he’s trying to achieve until you feel it, your muscles, tendons and ligaments beginning to scream in protest.

There’s a muffled pop, then a numbness that precedes a sharp pain that bleeds through your shoulder and you’re sobbing reaches your ears before it registers in your mind.

“It hurts, it hurts.” You wail, your consciousness brought back to you as he thrust his cock past your clenching entrance, forcing you to take him once more.

He shushes you tenderly, maneuvering the two of you to sit up, still seated on his cock as the stabbing pain throbs through your entire body, unable to form anything coherent as he gently fucks up into you.

“No more.” The words are slurred together, spurred by how he palpates around your still dislocated shoulder. There’s a curious hum in your ears as the head of his cock rams into that sensitive bundle, a pained moan escaping you.

Slowly he grabs your bicep, lifting your limp arm and carefully rolling and rolling until there’s another even softer pop. That same stabbing pain ricochets through your body, forcing you to clench down on him, gasping when you feel his cum spill inside of you.

You feel faint, sick, wanting to escape as he keeps you clutched tightly against him, continuing to prod at the abused muscles of your shoulder.

“It’s okay.” It’s not, you think bitterly as you slump against him, a fuzziness overtaking your vision.