#as a child i never fucking asked to know about those sorts of things and it was tge adults' responsibility to shelter me from it

[arthur-r]

(wrote this song before i left for college but it’s sure applicable to life right now!!!!)

lyrics: falling from grace, i’m a rusting lace artifact / tears down my face as i break my immortal pact / trust me, i want to be healthy / trust me, i want to be special and loving and sweet / trust me, i know that i’m broken / please, i just want one more chance to prove that i could be the— / best friends know how to reveal me / best friends know how hard i try to have something to say / best friends know that it’s not helping / can i just go far away to where there’s nowhere else to— / turn around, up and down, i’m melting!!!! / turn around, i have something to say!!!! / color bleeding, heartbeat leaving, need a place to lay my head / arms are folded, fine print bolded, everything is overloaded!!!!!!!! / color faded by the sun, i bite my tongue, i’m coming undone / color faded by the sun, i bite my tongue, i’m coming undone / color faded by the sun, i bite my tongue / trust me, i want to be healthy / trust me, i want to be special and loving and sweet / trust me, i know that i’m broken / trust me, i know that i’m broken….

[t0rturedangel]

How about the Hazbin hotel gang with seraphim child reader who just somehow appeared after ep 8

╭ . . . 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎 ੭

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ⿻  𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦??

⌦ 𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 ﹕angel dust - swearing, just him being him. Alastor - ill intent, possible swearing. Mentions of killing, mentions of blood. Nifty - she tries to kill you, dw you dont die. this too me so long im gonna cry

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ okay, firstly just know that the crew goes fucking crazy- I mean they just fought an entire army of exorcist angels and killed Adam, the first man Adam!! So they all think that you're sort of there to try and punish them all for it, so they all get ready to attack (even though you're LITERALLY a child, children are wild though)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ that's until Charlie, bless her heart, recognizes you (and depending on if you tried to defend her in court just like Emily) and rushes up to you, holding her arms out happily- thats until Angel Dust surprisingly tries to stop her

"It's you!" Charlie gasped, her eyes widening in a pleasant surprise, you were the third and youngest seraphim and much like your older sister Emily felt the need to defend Charlie and her idea of redemption- the thought of allowing those who suffered to see the error of their ways and correct them and then given their reward of eternal peace sounded brilliant, much like Emily you were horrified to learn of the exterminations. You were the first one to openly agree to what Charlie had said despite Adam's comments and facial expressions, you also helped Emily in trying to make the court see what was wrong with this method, unfortunately your plans did not work, though Charlie remembered your efforts and clearly she enjoys your presence. At the glee in her tone, you smiled and stepped forward, wanting to give a hug to the princess of hell though paused in confusion when someone looking oddly like a spider stopped her.

"Woah there toots!" the spider called out to his friend, grabbing her arm to halt her movement- Angel dust was staring both you and Charlie down- a look of uncertainty and distrust painted all over his face "Why ya going to rando angels? what if they were sent down here to finish the job for Adam?", Angel did have a point- you appeared put of no where and was just standing outside the hotel? pretty suspicious.. though Charlie is quick to cool things down "Oh no no no! They're alright, they're a friend! They mean no harm at all- in fact [name] was one of the angels who supported my idea!" she turned to you joyfully, smiling from ear to ear "We can trust them!" ... "okay but how did they end up here? in uh hell?" Husk piped up, his voice full of boredom- or annoyance (you can never really tell with husk, what an odd man) "Oh I fell! ... or rather- I threw myself out of heaven" you happily answered the question, giving everyone a quick second to process what the actual fuck you just said.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ thats how you joined the hotel! Pretty nice innit??

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Charlie adores you! you're such a sweet little thing, you're a sweetie and are just so kind to everyone!! (at least that's what she likes to think)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ she thinks of you as a little small sibling!, after all you're the youngest of the team and act just like her, plus she always wanted a little sibling so you're perfect!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ any ideas she thinks of or any redemption exorcises she runs them by you- to see if they can be more or less effective to get her friends into heaven

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Since Charlie could only stay in heaven for so long, she loves to ask you about heaven and how it was like- always being so invested in your stories, she honestly cannot get enough of them!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ also, Charlie is... painfully aware that she can never get into heaven, ever. Afterall, she's not only a hell-born but also literally the heir to the throne of hell so yeah there is no chance for her redemption, something she cannot handle- she cries knowing this but now that she has you- someone who ran from heaven, actively choosing to leave and come here gives her comfort. Now she'll never be alone, she has you and you have her!

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ At first, Lucifer was startled and untrusting of you- you're a seraphim, someone that was just like him and could possibly actually take him down despite you being an actual child.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ over time, the king of hell did grow warmer to you, after all he sees a bit of himself in you. Both ex-angels, both hate heaven.... it's like you're his second little one!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Sometimes, when lucifer isnt busy with his actual child, he hangout with you- entertaining you with his magic while you return the favor with little stories and things, sometimes you even create little gifts like flowers for him.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Lucifer vows to keep you safe, even though you can easily take down hundreds of sinners and even overlords, it's paternal instincts what can i say?

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ this man totally makes you ducks- he has enough experience in making ducks so you know own a few dozen in your hotel room- how lovely!!

𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ oh this man, this radio demon. He's out for your soul, absolutely hell-driven to get it, and it's all for power (who could have guessed)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ He doesnt like kids, in fact he can confirm that he absolutely HATES children though he will act all kind and lovely to you- remember though it's all an act! don't fall for it, he just wants your soul (if he gets your soul, your angelic soul? fuck- he'll be even more powerful than before, having an angel's soul would make him practically invincible!)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ This guy, funny fella really. HE CANNOT BUGGER OFF. Whenever you need help with anything he's the first to appear and offer a helping hand- and then in return as a favor back asks for a deal- is he serious? (yes. he always is)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Alastor though also, much like everyone else becomes a a bit soft for you- occasionally creating those little weird shadow creatures to play with you, since everyone around you are adults and are busy it's a way of keeping you entertained when they're busy

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ He, also, understands that you are more powerful than him- and knows that if he gets on your nerves enough he'll probably become dust.

𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ at first, Nifty only had one goal: to kill you (hey don't blame her! Charlie told her to stab and she's still under that impression)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ good for you though!! coz you fly up right as she even tries to stab her dagger through your chest- Charlie and Vaggie immediately grabbing nifty to stop her from moving and killing you.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ after the whole misunderstanding, Nifty actually enjoys begin with you! you're clean, and help kill bugs (well really it's you pointing the bugs out to Nifty and her killing them)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ You're, unsurprisingly, taller than Nif so she likes to climb up on you and sit on your shoulders or stand on your back while holding onto your shoulders. She finds you the most comfortable to climb- plus she can hide in your wings and be used as a secret weapon.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ she adores playing with roaches with you- while you are grossed out by it slightly, you still play to entertain Nifty (then after you sanitize your whole body about ten times)

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ angel tends to avoid you, not out of hate or spite or anything- it's just.... well he is aware of how he is and well he doesnt want to ruin you in the sense of his dirty talk and swearing.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ though occasionally he finds himself stuck looking after you, which is.... fun.... no i mean really its fun as fuck!!! Angel makes all sorts of jokes, offers you alcohol (you did almost take it if it werent for husk and practically everyone else to all collectively pry the bottle of vodka out of your hands)

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ angel dust also teaches you some very creative swear words! so now, whenever you feel like talking you run around screaming weird insults at people, Alastor has heard you shout "EAT ASS AND DIE HORSE FACE FUCK BITCH!!" a few times to random sinners

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ The... star, is actually proud of teaching you those words- hey if you wanna stay in hell you gotta act like it!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ hides you away from Val- though somehow you still find out about him, and when you learnt how he treated your spider-friend.. uhm, the studio was in smithereens and val was close to death- now permanently loosing his right arm (just his right arm for now)

𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐊

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ to you, Husk is like the weird- drunk uncle who just got out of prison. Though, he's the cool drunk uncle.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Husk doesnt really speak to you, which is brilliant coz you dont really speak- so the two of you communicate through looks and gestures, leaving everyone in the hotel watching you two 'talk' very confused.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ never gives you alcohol, no matter how much you ask with 'cherries on top' and if he does catch you with any intoxicating drinks he snatches them off of you- scolds you a bit then drinks the beverage himself.... hypocrite

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Husk helps you avoid Alastor, he doesnt want to see you being under his clutches, you dont deserve that you're just a kid.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ He also teaches you how to do magic tricks just incase you ever want to become a magician... and sometimes he teaches you how to play card games- or how to gamble

𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ In all honestly, Vaggie is very much threatened by you- because like, do i even need to say it?? YOU'RE A SERAPHIM !!!!!

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Buttt as long as Charlie is okay with you and you don't pull any stunts to try and sabotage the team you're alright! Just dont try anything.... please

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ she accidently treats you like a soldier sometimes- a habit from her exorcist days, speaking of you could immediately tell she was one of those angels and while you did not like her at first you grew to like her- viewing her as a second older sister

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ you and Vaggie sometimes sit and remember old times in heaven- and you'd ask about the exterminations, though quickly stopped after noting her discomfort.

⿻ㅤㅤᱺ Vaggies also likes to try and swap weapons with you- to see if she and you can handle other weapons (unsurprisingly you both adapt quite quickly)

[evilminji]

Okay, but... now I'm wondering >.>

@the-witchhunter We talked about Danny being Morningstar's feral, probably engineering oils and ectoplasmic goo covered, mad scientist/himbo hybrid (attack) purse dog. His special lil guy.

But!

I seek your Knowledge(TM).

From second hand accounts? He seems to HATE the hypocrisy. The blaming HIM for humanity's own choices. The rat race and endless song n dance of "Righteous Good VS. Cartoonish Evil". Because it let's humanity paint themselves the helpless victims. Because it's all surface level. Because it is not so easy to escape the ugliness of your Sins, yet they keep trying to scapegoat him.

Fuck um.

He was tired of it.

But? He still has CONSIDERABLE POWER. It's probably written down. And the Ring Of Rage? Is proooobably not the loveliest of artifacts? I imagine, like the Crown, it's NOT leaving Danny alone. One of those "we don't CARE if there is no throne left to sit upon, you WILL wear us, as King" sort of systems.

It genuinely would not and DOES NOT matter, if not a single soul in all the Zone bows to him. Did he defeat the previous holder of their Right To Rulership? Yes or No.

If No, fuck off.

If Yes, new monarch.

Is it hurting him? Not the rings problem. Nor the Crown's. Heavy is the weight, etc etc. But! DANNY would certainly care. He is... is ANGRY all the time now. Has no idea who would even MAKE this bullshit ring. Why JUST Rage? Yeah, it makes ghosts stronger, but at what COST?

He can't even get rid of it!

......by himself.

Luckily, he's still clear headed enough to know that he's NOT in this by himself. And it's amazing what "mom, dad, this ring is trying to drive me insane. Help me" in a terrified and tearful voice, can brush over. No one threatens their baby and all that.

It would honestly be hilarious, seeing the extended Fenton clan decend like LOCUSTS on Pariahs Keep, searching for clues, terrifying the local ghosts, if... if he wasn't so tired.

God he's so tired.

It's Aunt Alecia who... "politely encourages" a passing scholar to lend them the book they need. Took the poor sucker right out of the sky. Guy never stood a chance. RIP.

He learns he has to head..... over? Like... 27 that-ish way, then up. Huh. 27 WHAT?

Realities, apparently. He's in the wrong bundle. Branch? Neighborhood? Eh. Clan Fenton rolls back out, he packs his bags, and hilariously enough? Goes off to the devils night club. Hopes he likes rings. Or hates them.

Thankfully, being "king" means the Zone? Kinda... humors him? Like... it still has RULES(tm). He can... can FEEL that now. But it's willing to bend some for him, if he asks. And anything NOT against the rules? If it's in the right mood? He need only ask. It's weird. Being suddenly so powerful, yet NOT, at the same time.

Cause none of it's his.

All he has is the Zone's attention. The ability to ask pretty please. If you don't mind. And then? The highways between... ALL will just? Shift and change for him. He can see how it went to Pariah's head. The Zone is pretty agreeable. Is by nature Amoral, cause it's not a Being, it's... well, it's the Zone.

And everyone wants him to ask things. Do things. Demand this or that. Use this power.

Maybe he doesn't WANT too! Maybe he didn't WANT to be king! Doesn't he have the right to say NO? To refuse? Why do they think he OWES them service? An eternity of politics and people trying to kill him, for something he never wanted in the FIRST PLACE.

He's so tired.

The nightclub's pretty cool.

So he comes to ask, politely of course, cause the guy's probably busy, if Morningstar could... dunno, fix or destroy it? Want a ring, maybe? Also he heard you MADE the stars. Huge fan of all of that. Can I ask about the process? Or are you in the middle of something?

And? Lucifer? Turns around, from where he's Leaning Seductive Yet Elegantly(tm) to see... scrawny. Tiny corpse child. No... half? Corpse? Alive. Dying. Alive yet dying. Huh. Well, that is different. And here he didn't think he'd get see anything NEW. You, child, are NOT a zombie. What are you?

Halfa.

I have no idea what that is. What do you want?

He gets shown the ugliest, crudest, peice of shit ring imaginable. A genuine foul little curse. Really stinks up the place. He destroys it, obviously. This club has STANDARDS. Hope that wasn't important?

Kid just smiles the biggest fangy lil grin. No. No it was not.

Obvious, lie, but cute lil teeth. He'll allow it.

He gets dragged into talking about the stars. And talking. And talking. Mostly bragging and explaining. Kid hangs off his every word. Follows him around as he makes his rounds. Asks good questions. Completely focused, dispite the booze and barely dressed dancing all around him.

Lucifer can't help notice the crown.

Lovely little thing. Space ice and star dust, glittering like jewels and light catching the mist. If he remembers right... that one iiiiiis..... not Limbo, it's.... Zone! That crown is the Zone, it changes to suit the wearer. He recognizes the vibe. Awfully young, aren't you?

And.... it all burst forth. He didn't even need to press. Use persuasive words and honeyed tones. Like an inflamed, festering wound. The merest brush is enough to spill everything.

Negligence, greed, blood lust. Bigotry and xenophobia. A tyrants endless quest for power. Ah, humans. They truly don't change do they? Realities away, dead or alive. Now they're harrasing a child. He honestly looks miserable. Whereas just a moment before, listening to Lucifer talk about his work on the stars, his soul practically GLOWED with light. A tiny little star unto himself.

.......maybe it's the big ol "I'm you BIGGEST FAN" eyes. The sad wet cat aura. Perhaps the scrawny "could snap you like a twig" teenager, all elbows and knees. The fact he is, in fact, NOT human; for all that he once was. But?? The kid? Is... not terrible company.

He'd even go so far as to say? It's like having a pet intern.

He can sleep on the couch.

Tell you what, you stay here? I'll keep taking about stars and YOU can do the chores I don't feel like doing. I'll take care of you and all that.

And Danny? Honestly was sold at the word "stars" but? This sounds like a phenomenally terrible idea... and he has yet to meet one of THOSE he hasn't made out sloppy still with, so deal! But as a minor, that DOES make you his new gaurdian for the next four-ish years. He's legally obligated to finish schooling.

Ah.

.....well shit.

(Just? Local stressed 14-15 year old Ghost King does RESPONSIBILE thing and finds Adultier Adult. With more qualified Adult powers. Unfortunately for everyone, the adult is Lucifer Morningstar, night club owner. Even MORE Unfortunately, said ghost kind has pack bonded with the Nice Star Man, who saved him from the Bad Ring, and effectively offered to let him crash on his swanky couchs.

Now Morningstar has to? Somewhat VAGUELY pretend he gives a shit local schooling system, as he puts his charge INTO it. Actively giving waking terrors to the magical community. What evil plot is afoot? Where did he get this tiny minor death god? What is his end goal FOR said child?

No one knooooows~

But Lucifer is just doing this cause he's a Being of his word. He hates the tedious minor chores he'll be foisting off onto Danny. And? Most importantly? Look at that face. *shoujo sparkly eyes of Star Sempai Noticed Me!* it's like having a golden retriever puppy. Ffs he has STANDARDS.)

(It'd be hilarious to watch the hostile 5th dimensional chess DC characters have going on in the background, all while? Danny is like? Man! Isn't this universe GREAT? Everyone here is so CHILL! And nice to me! I'm so relaxed now! Finally, I can finish my education in peace.)

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[oval3000]

Chapter 5

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

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

"Seriously, I'm talking to you and you're dismissing me!" Dr. Smith followed Mr. Miller trying to get off the elevator.

He turned around clenching his fist. His stared at her with pure hatred, "shut. Up. You are a psychiatrist! Do your dam fucking job and leave me out of it. The only way you get to talk to me is if it's work related not to fulfill your pathetic needs. If you're so desperate for sex? Get a dam husband!"

He left the elevator, leaving her shocked. He walked towards the nurse's station and saw you doing your work on the computer. He hasn't spoken to you after his attempt and neither have you. You avoided him like like the plague. After the comfort König gave you, you apologized for how inappropriate it was for a worker to get her personal feelings get in the way of work. He spoke to you with his thick accent, telling you that you're more than just his nurse. It really took you back at how wrong it was for you to have this sort of connection towards a patient. You had to keep your distance, even König made it a bit hard for you.

He's been more comfortable giving you physical touch by touching your cheek with his finger or tracing your hand with his. Even so, he's noticed the distance you made with him. He didn't enjoy it.

Everything has been complicated for you. Your co-wrokers wanted to know why Mr. Miller called you in his office. They were too curious about it and kept nagging you for an answer, but you told them that nothing happened. You wanted to march out those doors and never come back, but it means giving up your lifestyle you have sacrificed to live.

The heels of Dr. Smith came near you and the scent of her strong perfume lingered around you. "Check König's vitals."

"I already did." You pointed to the computer screen of König's last vital check.

She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes, her eyebrows form a sharp arch as her wrinkles showed more perfoundly, "and I'm asking you to do it again." You looked at back the computer, not staring at the screen perse, but just nothing. "Is there a problem (y/n)?"

"No." You got your supplies ready and went into König's room.

He was surprised you came in three times already and dinner time hasn't even passed. However, you're lonely visit was interrupted when Mr. Miller entered the room. He shut the door, which alarmed you. No, he wouldn't, he couldn't possibly, not infront of König, you thought.

"I think we need to talk." He said, watching you prepare to check König. You haven't made eye contact with anyone yet. "About what happened the other day." König tilted his head, listening to the conversation. His fingers tingled a bit, feeling a bit of a twitch. Mr. Miller reached to touch the side of your arm only for you to quickly yank yourself away. " I didn't mean to do those things to you. I was just stress with everything that is going on. Look, your wonderful and beautiful." His placed his hand on your back reaching," why don't I take you out for dinner, my treat," down to your ass. You felt as he gave it a squeeze, which made you jump causing you to bump into the cart. This caused König to stand up.

Was he foolish, stupid. König couldn't believe it. He swooped in and stood between you and Mr. Miller. He stood tall and broad in front of him, making him look like a child wearing a suit. "Wh-what are you doing, König. Get back on your bed." He pointed his finger on his chest, shaky, but trying to keep his confidence. "Listen to me now! Go back to your bed...you fucking looser," he whispered.

"Looser! Looser!"

Without a single thought, a single hesitation. He grasp his finger and with a quick, smooth, swift, König move it to the side. Mr. Miller let out a shriek of pain as he felt the bone of his finger breaking in half. He saw the blood coming out as the bone sticked out. "AAAHH! SHIT!"

He moved his hand with the compound fracture close to him, blood driping down to the floor, covering the white tiles with red liquid.

You covered your ears with the loud scream he made. "HELP ME (Y/N)!" He screamed at you. You were facing König's back. You were afraid. Afraid of everything.

He is going to hurt you too? Is he going to turn around and break your neck? You thought.

"FUCK!" Mr. Miller took another look at his finger and saw the bone clear as day. You peaked through and saw. You walked in front of König and saw the fracture. You were about to grab Mr. Millers hand with the wound, until you felt big, strong, hands on your arm, yanking you away from Mr. Miller. It made you collaps onto König's torso.

You heard multiple people trying to open the door. People screaming at others to get the extra key.

You felt König's breath near your neck. He lowered his head to get close to you. You felt his lips near your ear, "Is he the one, schatz?" Not breaking eye contact with Mr. Miller.

The one. The one that almost raped you in his office. You didn't say anything, you just shook your head to give him an answer.

The door eventually flew open as guards rushed in to assist the situation. They looked at Mr. Miller and saw his despair of his broken finger. Jacob and the fellow nurse rushed to help him, wrapping gauze around to help stop the bleeding while they called 911. Dr. Smith made her way and saw the scene. She was left in shock. Her jaw dropping to the floor. Her eyes widen so big it looked like her eyeballs were going to pop off her eye socket. She followed the blood trails and saw you in Königs brace.

The guards telling König to let you go. Were you his next victim? you thought. Was he going to kill you? Everything was killing you on the inside.

König released the grip he had on your arm. You walked away from him and went towards the guards.

"Sedate him." Dr. Smith demanded one of the nurses. You didn't stand up. You didn't interfere. You watched as they stuck a needle into Königs arm.

He flopped onto his bed unconscious. Everyone left the room including you. They took Mr. Miller to the hospital as the rest of the staff made in the report. Dr. Smith wasn't happy. Not one bit.

She was furious. She stared you and thought about how stupid you look. Just standing there, in shock..maybe. You didn't mutter a word. Your workers tried to question you, what happened? But you didn't give them an answer.

"(Y/n). (Y/n)!" Dr. Smith yelled out. It finally got your attention. Everything went back into sync. The blurred vision finally cleared and the echoing finally stopped. "You need to come with me for the report. Now!"

You followed her into the elevator. Her feisty walked made her heels clink harder on the floor.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, you felt the palm of her hand smacking up against your left cheek. "You stupid bitch!" Your head turned to the side, holding your irritation it developed.

"You bitch! Instead of studying, you're becoming a whore!" The mother smacked the girls cheek, making the girl cry in pain.

"Mom!? Why would you hit me!?" She cried out.

"For being a slut! Just like that cunt that stole your father!" She yelled back at her.

"We were only studying. I was just tutoring him. We did nothing wrong!" The girl tried to reason with her mother, who was in distress with what she thought she caught her daughter trying to seduce one of her fellow classmates, but the truth is she was just tutoring him.

That's all. She was just tutoring the boy who was struggling with math. Until her own mother came in and saw, greeting herself to him, saying goodbye to him. The innocent daughter thinking her mother would be proud of her for helping someone in need. Instead it was all...

"Lies! Don't lie to me (y/n)! I know exactly what you were doing. Seducing that man for your liking." She argued with her 15 year old daughter. "How dare you do this to me. Becoming a prostitute while your own mother is sick!"

"I'm sorry, mom. I wasn't doing anything to him, I swear!" The last plea she gave to her mom before recieving one last slap from her mother.

"You are a nurse and you can't even help someone in need! You let someone like Mr. Miller, who has been nothing but nice to you, get hurt like that!" She yelled at you. Your hand was trying to sooth the irritated left cheek she gave you. "So pathetic! If you think you can get away from this then think again. As soon as he's back, you'll be walking out of here."

She told you to leave. To clock out and take the rest of the day off. She said, she couldn't bare to look at you anymore. Everything you do is a disaster.

"Auughh! What a day!" Jacob groaned, closing the cabinet with the medical supplies.

"I know. Poor (y/n). I feel bad for her. Having to deal with someone like König." She sighed smacking the bottle for it to open.

The other nurse pitched in giving glances to them, "I heard that she gets triple the pay, just to take care of König. That's the reason why we are short staffed and lack of working supplies."

"Are you kidding me! She gets like what? Four patients and gets paid way more then us. Way more then Jacob, who does the heavy lifting. " The nurse, Mia, the one who banged the bottle to open, said.

"Don't feel bad for her anymore, Mia?" Jacob said, standing next to Mia.

"I did, but it's hard to feel bad for someone who does less work and gets paid more then us even though we all have the same title." She scuffed "We all went to nursing school to get our degrees only for us to get bitch slapped. I guess I feel bad, I mean, almost getting killed isn't worth anything."

"I heard that she fucks König and the administrator." The nurse, Wendy, said crossing her arms.

Mia let out a laugh of denial, "No! How!?"

"I mean she's always defending König and the way he held her earlier. They definitely fuck. Plus everytime, she leaves his room, she's happy. You don't walk out of a lunatics room unless he shoved his cock inside your pussy." Wendy leaned in closer to Jacob and Mia, "and i heard from Mr. Miller's secretary that she heard Mr. Miller talking about how good (y/n)s pussy looks like. And that she saw (y/n) walking out of his office with her clothes looking a little shriveled."

"Oh my gosh! Is that why she didn't want to tell us why she was called to his office?" Mia exclaimed with joy, like she was on celebrities gossip. "I mean it makes sense that König broke his finger. Two lovers fighting for the same vigina."

"Are you guys finish gossiping" Dr. Smith said towards the three nurses all huddled up together.

"Sorry." They said in a union.

Dr. Smith smacked the file of paperwork into the small desk. She wasn't deaf, she heard what they were gossiping about.

Mr. Miller and (Y/n). Dr. Smith didn't love it. She stared down at her wedding ring finger.

"You're leaving me!?"

"Sarah, I can't do this. Not with you!" The men screamed at her as he packed his suitcase.

"You're leaving me for that slutty waitress!" She screamed at her husband, yanking out his clothes from the dresser.

"Don't call her a slut! The only slut is you!" He words tamed with anger, burning her heart like acid.

"How many times do I have to apologize!? Me and Ben, it was only a one time thing." She plead trying to get her husband's affection. "I thought we pushed back this."

"No! You pushed it back! You wanted to pretend like nothing happened after you slept with another men! With! Your! Colleague! In! Our! Bed! Sarah!" He pulled his arm away from his soon to be ex- wife from her touch.

"And what! You don't think it hurts me too, to see you with another women. What is it!? What does she have that I don't!?" She cried to him. For an answer an answer as to why her husband went out to sleep with a beautiful waitress that attends him with his needs.

"Loyalty! Respect! Careness!" He answered her walking away from their shared bedroom, rolling his suitcase with him.

"Loyalty!? A homewrecker doesn't have any loyalty!" She chased after him.

He turned to her, hovering over her, "And you do!? She's not a homewrecker. The only homewrecker here is you when you slept with that Miller. You ruined this marriage, not her. You ruined this for us, not her. So go cry to Ben, because I don't care. Goodbye Sarah, have a nice fucking life."

Sarah saw as her husband left her. She reached to her phone. "Ben. Ben is me. He left me, Ben. I'm all alone." She cried to him.

"Dr. Smith."

"So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"

"Dr. Smith." She snapped away from her thoughts and looked at Jacob. "König. He's awake."

"Check up on him." She said.

Jacob gave her a nod and walked away.

Jacob entered Königs room alongside a guard. He placed his medication on the table. König stood up. It alarmed them.

All of them.

Dr. Smith couldn't comprehend anything. She was so in her own thoughts, the screams of pain went passed her.

The screams of nurses and guards running. It finally caught her attention. She turned around in her chair and saw Jacob on the floor. His neck slit opened. The blood squirting out of his neck and into the walls and tiles. He tried his hardest to crawl away.

But nothing stopped König. She saw him coming out of his room. The guards ran to him, to hold him down, but all König did was to smash their heads into the wall. Nurses running away from him, but he quickly yanked their hair closer to him. He twisted Mia's neck all the way to the back until her spine cracked open. Wendy tripped on the blood and got her head stomped by his large foot.

Dr. Smith stood up from her chair, seeing the massacre. The screams from guards and nurses ringing in her ears. His eyes landed on her.

She ran. She ran as far as she could. She opened the door for the emergency staircase. She ran while looking back to see if he was still chasing her. Her stupidity of not paying attention caused her heel to miss a step, making her trip down.

Her hands landed on the floor, preventing her face from smashing into the tile floor. She groaned in pain. She looked down and saw her knees, right below her dress skirt, bleeding. She heard the door open and saw König walking down the stairs. She saw the look on his eye.

"Please! Please don't hurt me!" That doesn't stop him from getting close to her. She tried getting up, but her legs felt like they're going to snap. She stumbled down and landed on the floor.

She cried her eyes out. Turning around so her back is faced away from him. " *hic* please! Please don't hurt me! Please!" The Burning tears made it hard for her to see clearly.

König grabbed her neck, lifting her up from the ground. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I...I'm SO SORRY!"

He grabbed a chunk of her dirty, blonde, hair and with a quick movement, he smashed her head onto the wall...repeatedly. Over and Over.

The blood coming out. The chunk of skull falling to the floor. Her brain matter slushing out.

He threw her dead body to the floor and walked the rest of the stairs down. Finding his old clothing where he first arrived here. His tight compressed black t-shirt, his tan trousers and his black t-shirt- mask, his combat boots.He placed the needle inside his pants and went on to his destination.

Being a computer analyst and specialist really come in handy.

But nothing beats the help of his good ol'pal.

"Hello?"

"Horangi. It's König."

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

The night fell. The moon shining through your curtains. You took off your shower robe, put on a bra and a white tank top and some comfy shorts. You fixed your hair and went to the kitchen.

You opened up a tea bag and dumped it into the mug with hot, boiling, water.

Silence filled the room in your apartment. You decided to enjoy this time off. To take advantage of it.

You made your way to the living room and placed the mug onto the glass table, next to the couch. You roamed around to see the remote, but couldn't find it.

The sound a bang coming from your bedroom startled you frozen. You have a view of your room and saw the window, near your bed, open.

Either be stupid like the characters in horror films and check it out, or walk out of this building.

Either way, ignorance is bliss. Pretending that you never heard anything in the first place.

You entered the bedroom, taking precaution, quickly glancing you room and found nothing.

You entered to grab your blanket when out of sudden you felt a hand covering your mouth, preventing you from making any noise. The large hand covering your entire bottom half face. You felt strong wall behind you. "It's okay, die liebe"

He pulled out a needle, the same needle they use to sedate him. He injected it into your arm.

It didn't take long for you to fall unconscious. He lifted you up and carried you, bridal style. He carried you out and placed you in his car. "Don't worry, schatz. Ich bringe dich nach Hause. (I'm taking you home.)" He caressed your cheek, giving you a light kiss on the lips. "unser Zuhause. (Our home.)"

"Mein Liebling."

"Mine."

[niningtori]

make you cry | part three: hyuka's ending

part one | part two: beomgyu's ending

pairing: hueningkai x you, past beomgyu x you

summary: after your falling out with beomgyu, kai becomes your new best friend as you spiral out of control. his actions may not be completely platonic, though.

genre: angst, romance, smut (mdni), best friends to lovers

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!hyuka, oral (f. rec), dirty talk, praise, choking (sorry), possessive!kai, just some really sweet sex if u ask me, pregnancy kink

word count: 3.9k

notes: y'all... ik i said this would come out on my bday (which is exactly 2 weeks from now hehe) but i couldn't help but post it as soon as i finished it... lord knows i'm impatient. anyway, i said this would probably never exist but since ppl were asking for it, as the biggest pushover in the world, i couldn't say no ;_; i hope you enjoy it!

"you're not gonna die," kai says softly. "it's a shitty circumstance, but you're just making it harder on yourself."

you hum noncommittally while downing another searing shot of vodka. kai watches in horror as you don't even think to chase it, too much of a hassle, you said.

"look, i know how you're feeling, trust me. i just think that torturing yourself is the worst thing you can do right now. whatever happened to self care in the face of heartbreak?" he pleads, and it's like he's talking to a wall. you had been staring listlessly at the same spot for what had to have been at least an hour — no tears, no nothing. just a blank stare and an insatiable need for the next sip.

"yeah, i know. i just wish things were different." you were miserable being just friends with beomgyu before, but that pales in comparison to how used you feel now that you’ve slept with him. 

"i know, baby. i know." at this point, he kind of just wishes you would cry. the awful look on your face seems significantly worse than if you'd just burst into tears.

beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but as you slowly descended into a pit of unrequited love for him, kai had understood like no one else after a particularly nasty breakup with his serial cheating ex. you two found some sort of secret camaraderie in the feeling of loneliness, something beomgyu would never understand, given how easily everything tended to work out for him. except for right now, you guess.

"alright, i think i'm done here," you slur and shakily stand as the vodka seems to be doing its job. kai scowls in frustration, wishing he could do more for you, but knowing he can't.

-

kai refuses to let you go home alone, so he hitches a taxi for you two. in the backseat of the car, you lean your head on the window and close your eyes, but all you see is the repeating image of beomgyu with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he shows you the girl who he will probably end up fucking. you feel mentally sick knowing those eyes will never light up that way for you. you feel physically sick knowing that you gave him everything now and it still wasn’t enough. 

then, as if hearing your thoughts, kai carefully slides his hand around your cheek, which is currently somewhat numb from the coldness of the window and bumpiness of the ride, and softly places your head on his shoulder.

when you finally get to your apartment, you invite him in. he can tell you just don't want to be alone, but he doesn't say anything, just wraps an arm around you as you lead him into your bedroom. after plopping down in your bed, he turns to leave before you grab the end of his shirt.

"can you stay with me?" you plead. and he nods without a word. lying down next to you before pulling you in his warm embrace.

"you know, i think you're gonna be just fine," he whispers into the top of your head. and just like that, the dam breaks, and you finally, finally burst into tears. wail, really. 

you kick your legs like a child, chanting "no, no, no," and lamenting on and on about how things are wrong, wrong, wrong. this isn't how things were supposed to go. he was supposed to fall in love with you and open his eyes and see who’s been with him all along. he’d apologize and kiss you gently to make up for lost time. you hate how you hoped against hope that he would return your feelings and finally, finally start respecting you. but none of that happened the way it should. the way you so fervently hoped it would.

kai just pats your head and rubs your hair, all while cooing "shhh, i know. i know.”

you lay there with him, legs all tangled together and heart aching until you fall into a fitful sleep. 

-

you miss beomgyu, that goes without saying, but it's getting easier these days. this is due in no small part to kai’s persistence. he comes to see you nearly every day and calls you when he can’t. you spend countless nights with him on speakerphone. most nights, he talks about his day, where he went, the people he saw. on the really, really bad nights, he’s just trying to console you. like right now. 

“shh, it’s okay. i know,” he whispers into the phone.

“i-i’m sorry, hyuka. i’m just so sad,” you sob.

“no, don’t be sorry. why are you sorry?” he coos.

“because i’m dumping this all over you. it’s not your job to baby me,” you cry, feeling guilty beyond words, which only makes you cry harder.

“you’ve done the same for me. you know that. i couldn’t have gotten through my breakup if it weren’t for you, so you don’t need to be sorry. i’m here. i’ll always be here.” if you were less confused and hurt, you’d hear the extent of his tenderness. you might even realize how he’s bending over backwards in a way that’s reminiscent of the way you did for beomgyu. the way somebody who really loves you only ever does. but as it is, you don’t register any of it.

-

beomgyu shows up at your doorstep, sometimes. he doesn’t ever really say anything other than your name in a desperate voice between pleas to let him in, but you never do. you have no idea how strong your resolve will or won’t be if you see his face again, so you do your best to avoid him altogether. on a particularly bad night, though, you feel your self control waning. listening to what he has to say just once couldn’t hurt, right? you can’t stand the uncertainty and this seemingly endless purgatory you find yourself in now. you decide, no matter what the outcome is, you’ll put a stop to it tonight.

with newfound courage, you lightly crack your front door to come face to face with the boy who's been haunting you for months now. his red-rimmed eyes widen in shock as he finally sees you in person instead of from his friend’s instagram account. 

“what do you want?” you attempt to ask coolly, but you sound unsteady even to your own ears. beomgyu doesn’t seem to notice, though, and if does, he doesn’t say anything about it. 

“i just wanna talk to you,” he pleads, and you nod before widening the door and letting him in. you gesture for him to take a seat next to you on your couch and he cautiously sits while never breaking eye contact with you, as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he takes his eyes off of you.

“so?” you ask plainly. he clears his throat as if he's been in a daze until now and nervously begins.

“i-i’m sorry for what i did to you. so, so sorry,” beomgyu says weakly. “and i miss you so much i can’t stand it.”

“then why did you do it?” you ask, not without a hint of malice.

“i.. i don’t know. i think i was just so scared to be hurt that i hurt you instead. but being away from you has shown me just how much i need you.” need. what a strange word coming from beomgyu’s mouth. as for needing you in particular? even stranger. 

“you know, i really didn’t mean to hurt you,” he continues, but even he knows how flimsy his words seem right now.

“i know,” you reply quietly.

“i ruined everything,” he says with a sense of finality, no room for argument. “i know i did. but i-is it always going to be like this? i don’t think i can live without you in my life, one way or another.”

“i don’t know, beomgyu.” he flinches at the use of his full name. “it’s going to take some time before we can be friends again.” if ever. you don’t say those last words, but he can swear he hears them.

“that’s okay,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “as long as you know that i’m sorry, and that you didn’t and don’t deserve how i treated you.”

“i know,”  you repeat. you can’t believe you’re not bawling and pulling him into your arms right now, for better or for worse, but surprisingly, you don’t feel any of the emotions you could’ve bet your life you would feel. you pity him more than anything, and your heart does ache, but more so for the friendship you lost instead of the love that never was. beomgyu wasn’t your best friend for nothing, so as if he can sense how detached you are from him, he says his next words.

“are you seeing him?” he asks with a tinge of melancholy.

“who?” you ask, taken aback at his sudden question.

“c’mon, be serious. kai.”

“k-kai? what do you mean?” he smiles bitterly at your words. 

“i’ve seen the way he looks at you. if you don’t see it yourself, you’re either delusional or blind. after i last saw you, he really told me all about myself.”

“he talked to you after that?” you ask in shock.

“oh yeah. he said he’d beat the brakes off of me if i ever tried to hurt you again, and the only reason why he hadn’t done it already was because you would be sad.” you pause at his earth-shattering words. your sweet hyuka really said that? you can’t imagine someone as soft and caring as him uttering such unforgiving words, but when you think about how much pain he knew you were in, it makes sense. kai had seen the worst parts of you after beomgyu had broken your heart. only he knew just how much you were hurting, and only he would care as much as he did. you don’t know why, but you can’t help but smile softly at the thought of him being so riled up that he acted completely out of character for you. just for you.

“and if i know you, and i do, i’d say that you probably feel the same way he does.” you gasp at his observation. how could he possibly think that?

“y-you’re wrong! we’re just good friends.” best friends, even. you haven’t really thought about kai in that context. everything you’ve ever done seemed purely platonic on your end. but now that you’re really thinking about it, is it actually? the late night phone calls, spending the night in his arms, waking up to kisses on your forehead and promises to see you later. that’s not what “just friends” do, is it? 

“really? then you’d be okay with him acting the same way he does with you with literally anyone else?” you’re at a loss for words at this. what would you do if kai showed his gentleness to anyone else the same way he does for you? how would you react to him staying up all night on the phone with another girl? to him dropping everything just to make sure she’s eaten? to looking at someone else with infinite warmth and care? you wouldn’t like it at all. 

beomgyu smiles sadly at your reaction. he knows now that you’ll never love him again. not in the way he’s realized he loves you. but that’s okay. love is supposed to be selfless. he realizes that now as he watches you stutter and vehemently deny the love you have so obviously begun to have for another man.

on your end, all you can think is: oh god, how long have you been stringing kai along? since your fallout with beomgyu? or even before that? sure, you could hide under the pretense of being each other’s primary support system in heartbreak, but you can’t do that forever. especially not now. in the middle of your reverie, the sound of your front door opening snaps you back to reality. who else would it be besides the boy in question?

“what the fuck are you doing here?” kai growls when he catches sight of beomgyu. he had just stopped by to see if you’re okay since you hadn’t texted him back in awhile. he figured he’d walk in to you sleeping soundly, not to the sight of you and beomgyu getting cozy on your couch. you, of course, were decidedly not getting cozy with beomgyu in the slightest, but kai couldn’t see that in the midst of his rage. 

“me? i’m leaving now,” beomgyu says, sensing danger and cleverly wanting to escape it.

“yeah, you’d better,” kai spits. 

when beomgyu shuts the door behind him, kai immediately turns to you.

“did he hurt you?” you shake your head no. 

“are you okay?” he asks and all you can do is nod. actually, you haven’t felt this okay in a long, long time. things that didn’t previously make sense to you are incredibly clear now. you love kai, you really do. you loved beomgyu, obviously, but those feelings of pain are gone now that you feel the tenderness that is actual, reciprocated love. 

“kai?” you ask in the middle of his barrage of questions about what happened.

“yes?” he asks, completely dropping his interrogation as soon as you say his name. 

“do you love me?” his face crumbles at this question.

“don’t be stupid, of course i love you. you’re my best friend.” 

“not like that. i mean, do you love, love me?” you search his eyes for an answer. his mouth widens and he sputters for a moment before realizing there’s no way out.

“...yes.”

“since when?” you can’t help but ask.

“since always,” he says with a smile, reminiscent of the words you had spoken to beomgyu all that time ago. you can’t even imagine how kai must have felt when he saw you pining after beomgyu, and for so long. actually, you can. that’s how you felt about beomgyu. your heart aches when you think that you’ve unintentionally inflicted the same pain on the sweetest boy you’ve ever known.

“what about your ex?” 

“she’s not you. and i think… i think she knew my heart was never really in it. not like it is with you. i think that’s why she cheated.” it still hurt to be cheated on by her, to be clear, but not more than it did to see your eyes following beomgyu every second of every day. when he cried to you about her, he was really just crying over you.

“i’m… i know you’re not into me like that, and that's okay, it really is. i just don’t want to lose you.” your heart flutters at his words. kai’s selflessness, his care, his indulgence. his love. you try to imagine a world where kai shows the sides he shows to you to someone else. you’d feel absolutely gutted, now that you think about it. unconsciously, you’ve grown to want to monopolize everything about him. you can’t imagine giving him up, not for anyone. not even for beomgyu.

without another word, you gently place your hands on his cheeks and pull his face towards yours. you kiss him softly, tenderly, and he can’t help but gasp before melting into the kiss. there’s so much care behind it along with love, appreciation, and the sense of making up for lost time.

his eyes redden when you insert your tongue into his pliant mouth. 

“s-stop. any more, and i won’t be able to hold back.” “so don’t hold back,” you say as you grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom.

“a-are you sure?” he asks nervously.

“i’m sure,” you say breathily. “i love you, too. so please, just take care of me, okay?” he can’t hold himself back now. the girl he loves is practically begging him to take her, what kind of person would he be if he said no? so he doesn’t. with great care, he strips your clothes off of you and watches in awe as he sees your naked body in front of him. slowly, intentionally, he lays you down on your bed and admires you for all that you are. your cheeks heat up as he presses kisses onto every inch of your trembling body, almost like he’s trying to mark you with a seal that makes you his own, completely. almost like he’s removing traces of anyone else, and you love the feeling of practically being worshiped by a man who’s clearly in love with you.

eventually, his kisses become more and more fiery as he inches towards your fluttering pussy. 

with a curse, he grabs a pillow and shoves it underneath your hips, raising your glistening cunt so you can more easily fully take in the sight of him lapping up your sweetness like he’s starving. you’ve felt similar pleasure before, but nothing quite like this. is this how it feels to be with someone you love who truly loves you back? you think so. your legs are shaking and involuntarily caging him in between them, but he doesn’t try to resist you. it’s like he could die happily in between your legs as he moans into your cunt, the vibrations racking through your body deliciously. he chuckles when you gasp at the feeling of one of his long, knobby fingers entering your heat. he curls experimentally, you cry out his name when he finds your sweet spot and taps it mercilessly, sliding another finger in and following suit. the sweet feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit and the cruel curling of his fingers is enough to bring you to your climax. you cry out his name as your toes curl and legs shake, which only spurs him further, slurping up your slick like he can’t stand the thought of losing a single drop.

“did that feel good, baby? you wanted me to take care of you, right? so just sit back and let me do it. i’ll make you feel better than you ever have.”

he rips off his shirt and unceremoniously tosses it behind him. you’re panting now, gasping for air, but he’s not done with you yet. he sits up and unbuckles his pants, sliding them down his creamy thighs and letting his cock stand tall. his whole body is flushed pink with embarrassment when you take him all in, matching his reddened member, which is currently leaking profusely with precum. he’s so needy for you, and you can see it all over his bright pink face. you should be tired from the intense orgasm he just gave to you, but you can’t help but gulp in anticipation as he lines himself up with your entrance. slowly, he pushes his wide tip in your spasming pussy. 

“o-oh, god,” he says as he splits you open. you can’t even form words because the stretch you feel is absolutely scorching, so you whine instead. tears spring in your eyes as he shakily pulls out then pierces you with one fluid motion, bottoming out completely. 

“y-you’re going to break me,” you cry.

“oh, baby. it’s alright, you can take me,” he says soothingly, but not without a tinge of mischief. that’s all you get before he begins thrusting into you. the harsh curve of his cock dragging along your walls and inadvertently hitting your g spot relentlessly has you opening your mouth, trying not to drool, but failing when he sticks his thumb in your mouth. like a madwoman, you begin to desperately suck on it, which only fuels the fire even more. 

“you look so pretty sucking on me like that,” he coos. “bet you wish it was my dick instead, don’t you?” he snickers as he stuffs his cock into your pussy. “i’ll give it to you every day, okay? you don’t have to beg.” you nod pathetically in agreement. the thought of kai filling you up every day has you needier than before, somehow. you need this feeling, the feeling only he can give you.

his body is scorching hot in your arms. his cock throbbing inside you? even hotter. you watch in awe as he rams himself into you, your whole body shaking with every thrust. 

“t-take it, you can fucking take it. my pretty girl, so fucking perfect for me,” he praises.

this can’t be your sweet, sweet hyuka, right? but as your teary eyes look up at him, you know it has to be. as if he can hear your thoughts, he smirks as he takes one of his hands and lightly grips your throat. it’s not hard enough to hurt you, but enough to have you whimpering. he calls your name lovingly as he drills into your swollen pussy, walls clenching down around him. you whimpering out his name in tandem with the indecent sounds of his balls slapping against you ring inside his head. he feels more and more that he’s losing his grip on reality as he continues to impale you on his cock. a shudder pulsates through you as you feel an orgasm approaching again. you don’t have to say it’s coming, because he can feel it when you clench around him, pussy begging him not to leave as it sucks him in deeper and deeper. 

“fuck, baby, you look so beautiful coming undone around my cock. so gorgeous, this pussy is the best, never wanna leave it.”

neither of you feel particularly sane at the moment, especially not as he clutches your thigh to steady himself as he thoroughly fucks you into your soiled mattress, hand still gripping your throat. 

“gonna come, gonna get you pregnant so everyone knows not to mess with you. do you want that? do you want everyone to know how good i’m fucking you? that you’re all mine?”

“yes, yes, yes! come inside, please!” you manage to choke out. you place your arms around his neck and dig the heels of your feet into his ass as he drills into you. that’s all it takes, really, before his warm seed fills you to the brim. he moans as he releases his grip on your neck and pumps it further and further into you, pushing his load into your cervix as he peppers your face and neck with sweet kisses. 

he collapses, pushing your hair off of your sweaty face so he can get a better look at you. 

“d-did i hurt you?” he asks cautiously, only sobering up now that his release has come.

“it was good, i liked it,” you giggle, admiring his cuteness. he smiles contentedly as he places one hand on your stomach and gently caresses it. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. “can’t believe you’re really mine.” mine. what a beautiful word, only made more beautiful by the boy who’s insisting you belong to each other.

“i could say the same thing about you,” you whisper, placing your hand on his blushing cheeks. 

“wanna go again?” he asks, cock already hardening once more.

“w-what?” you ask dumbly as he shifts from beside you.

“i meant it when i said i want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says, positioning himself over you again and sliding his cock up and down your slit. he was right. you’ve never felt this good before in your life, and you wouldn’t want it to be because of anyone else.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast @softesyoongi

series taglist*: @gyulinoo @moamidzyism @sooberryworld @dreamxerz @sweetttkissess @gothraccoons @jaxyy219 @idontwantoeatspicy @soobsfairy444 @denleave1088 @notevenheretbh1 @fairfootedflekk @hihello-pinky @ilovesimjaehyun143 @seolis-world @midwinterblizzard @slutty-cherry @run2min

*if you were tagged in part two: beomgyu's ending i assumed u wanted to be tagged in this one too! if i was wrong, i'm sorry n i will delete ur tag jus lmk!!

[cinnamonest]

Yan childe x teacher reader BUT the reader has a lover OMG I CAN'T-

//cucking + filming noncon, age gap, Ajax is an awful little bastard as usual

(also here's the original Delinquent!Childe x Teacher!Reader post, and the second sequel post)

Oh anon. Anon. I love this, but consider: take it a step further.

The poor boy finding out that his precious teacher he’s been fantasizing about fucking silly is MARRIED.

Typing away on her keyboard when his eyes drift and he stiffens up when he sees the ring he never noticed before. The pain. The horror. Devastated.

He’s never even met the guy, and yet he hates him so much. It’s not fair that he got to you first, just because he was born earlier than he was!

He’s probably not good enough for you. Some old guy who can’t rail you with the vigor and intensity that a young guy like himself can, probably can’t keep up with your drive either. You must be so frustrated and unsatisfied.

Now it feels so awful on his tongue to call you what he normally does. Miss _____, he says, and it feels like he’s spewing poison from his mouth, knowing it’s some other man’s name practically forced on you by dumb traditions and social standards (not that he wouldn’t do the same, but that’s different). It makes his chest hurt to hear it, the name feels like a constant reminder that some other man basically has laid claim to you, that the name marks you as belonging to someone who isn’t him.

He does some digging, finds everything he can on the guy, any online profiles or social accounts. Ugh. You deserve better. If it were him, he would just support you himself, you wouldn’t have to slave away doing paperwork all the time.

Even worse is the fact that the guy has a nice job — you know, the kind you need some higher degrees for, which he definitely won’t get seeing as his behavioral record is pretty much guaranteed to keep him out of any credible institution… still, you don’t need that much money to get by. Sure, he’ll never make that much (without getting into crime, at least, which isn’t an impossibility…), but still, he’s better for you.

It’s so much worse, though, when he stalks your accounts, sees pictures of the two of you together. Makes him feel sick to his stomach, you look happy and he doesn’t like that. He ends up having to close the window, unable to handle any further emotional damage.

He starts to pry, little by little. Can’t be too blatant, but he slips in a question every now and then — how you met, what you two do for fun, so on and so on. It makes his stomach churn to hear you talk about him, but he can’t refrain from continuing to ask, practically a compulsive urge.

God forbid you express any sort of discontentment. Even the slightest frustrated sigh, passive-aggressive comment in regards to the man, and so on, he perks up and zeros in. Oh, so you are unhappy. Typical unsatisfied wife that’s getting pent up from unmet needs and all that.

He’s very attentive to those complaints, the things you mutter under your breath and the implications of it all. He works too long and is never home (terrible, he would never leave you so lonely), he’s never helpful around the home (which wouldn’t be so much of an issue if you were home all the time and didn’t have work responsibilities), he suspiciously disappears sometimes for “work trips” or unexplained entirely (unforgiveable, your suspicions are well-founded, he’s definitely cheating and you shouldn’t forgive it).

Sometimes you sigh and shake your head — ah, sorry, I shouldn’t trouble someone your age with all this… but he assures you it’s fine… also he’s searched a list of local divorce attorneys, you know, if you consider that, which you should.

He’s not the best at being subtle or exercising restraint, so he can’t help but actually mention it out loud — life is short, better to divorce than stay in a miserable relationship! But you sigh and say it’s not that serious. He holds out on the hope that there’s an unspoken “yet” at the end of that, that eventually you’ll get fed up.

But you don’t. You keep tolerating it. It’s somewhat understandable, since divorces are difficult and messy, and you would need somewhere to stay and all that.

But getting one’s own place isn’t that hard. He would know, now — he’s actually been picking up odd jobs recently, all to get his own place. Hard to balance that with schoolwork, but he manages (and he’s in the absolute bottom-tier difficulty for courses anyway, with very little actual homework, and it’s not like he’s prepping for college like a lot of his peers). You’re very pleased with it, say you’re proud of him for being so dedicated and responsible, completely unaware that he only really has one intention for doing it all anyway.

He was planning to take that part slowly, ease his way there, but you push the limits of how much he can tolerate when he’s forced to meet the guy face-to-face. He’s just sitting there as per usual in your after-school sessions, talking a mile a minute as per usual, having a good day, completely unprepared for the psychological gut-punch he’s forced to experience when that same face he saw online comes walking right into your classroom. The sacred space that’s supposed to be just for you and him.

His soul is crushed when you get up to greet the guy all happily, practically ignoring him for several extended seconds before you gesture over to where he’s sitting and introduce each other — with himself as the student I’ve been tutoring, you know the one. The man nods, casts a single uncaring glance his direction.

Right. She mentioned you before.

The hell does that mean. He keeps the smile plastered to his face, but it’s twitchy. What did you say? Was it bad? No, you wouldn’t say anything bad about him… except maybe certain factual statements like the whole behavioral record thing, but he can accept that that’s his own fault.

Still, he doesn’t like the way the guy looks at him. A vague condescending, disdainful glance. Makes him curl his hands into fists and clench his jaw. If it weren’t for the whole “impulse management” thing you’ve been hammering into his head for months now, he might have outright attacked the guy.

It’s practically torture to sit there. You say something about how you’re going out for your anniversary, so he came to pick you up. Awful. Like you might as well have stabbed him. Not to mention it’s cutting into what’s supposed to be his time with you, and now he has to leave early.

So he’s forced to walk to the front doors with you both, listening to you talk all happily about where you’re going, while he’s forced to continue to pretend to be perfectly fine with it. Ugh.

You bid him goodbye, and he smiles and waves and walks the opposite way… and the moment you’re out of sight, he’s scowling and grinding his teeth and kicking rocks on the road all the way home, sulking like a petulant kid, imagining all the horrible ways he hopes your date goes terribly wrong.

It makes him seethe all night long, laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, nausea ruining any chance he had of sleeping. He can’t even go sulk around his parents with the hope of getting attention like he used to do when he was mad, now that he lives in this little apartment by himself.

How is he supposed to live under these conditions, no attention available on demand. You don’t even text him to see if he got home safe like you do sometimes. Probably too busy doing whatever with your husband who’s more important than he is. Hmph. His mind briefly flickers to wondering what you’re doing now that it’s later in the night, but the obvious realization only makes him feel ten times more sick. He doesn’t get any rest.

And the longer the night goes on, the more irritated he starts to feel, the misery and hurt begins to turn to bitterness and anger. He starts to feel like you probably know — no, you definitely do. And yet, you willingly tortured him like that. You've been so nice to him, giving him all that attention and affection, knowing you won't ever give him what he really wants and being totally fine with causing him so much pain. He's hurt, and more importantly, mad.

But he can't hate you… your husband, however, is a different story.

That guy kept his arm around your waist walking outside, rubbing it in his face like that. He’s certain that your husband must realize that he loves you (way more than said husband does, for the record), but that look of disdain — he doesn’t even see him as a threat, does he. Thinks that he’s not even proper competition. That much is painful. Bothersome. Annoying. Rage-inducing.

Well, he’s wrong.

That’s the thought that pushes him over the edge. He’s already had the idea in his head for a long time, he just kept bailing out every time he gathered the gall to go through with it, much to his own shame.

But clearly, continuing to be passive is not going to get him anywhere. Come to think of it, a few months ago, he would never have hesitated to go through with whatever impulse struck him, no matter how violent. It’s not like he hasn’t been expelled or arrested before.

He appreciates the time he’s spent with you, but he’s starting to think that all those little speeches about “self-control” and “thinking before you act” and all that have only really just made him docile and tame. How embarrassing.

A man should just take what he wants, right? Anything less is practically a blow to his pride.

He’s still not the brightest when it comes to formulating plans, but his rather straightforward plan ends up working. You actually agree to swing by when he says he has something to give you, something too big to carry to school himself, so he needs you to come pick it up with your car and all that. You must really trust him. Or you’re just naive, maybe, but he likes to think you trust him, however unwise that may be.

He worries that you might back out, but you show right up to his door. The motions from there are mechanical, putting his brain on a sort of autopilot mode in which he just goes through with it, without thinking too much, lest he hesitate, until you’re secured.

Grabbing you by the shoulder and jerking you inside, hand over your mouth, other arm around your waist and picking you up. It's a short distance to the bed (well, mattress on the floor), since it's just a studio apartment and all.

You being so weak makes it so much easier. He can technically tell you're struggling, but it barely feels like resistance, just weak squirming and thrashing that doesn't even loosen his grip in the slightest. You make cute little noises of surprise and confusion and fear, muffled by his hand over your mouth.

Sadly, he can't afford to have you attracting attention from the neighbors, so he's forced to keep you gagged, pulling your shirt over your head (to which your whimpers turn to full-fledged sounds of panic), and — after the brief moment where he has to detach his hand from your mouth, hearing you stammer out a wait, wait— balls it up and stuffs it into your mouth, quickly grabbing the duct tape (he, feeling very proud of himself for such clever forethought, thought to go ahead and tear some long strips off and stick the ends to the wall ahead of time), and placing it over your mouth, flipping you over onto your stomach.

You're so cute. You make the cutest little noises, your eyes get all teary, you squirm and whimper and try to pull yourself away, but he's got your wrists pinned behind your back with one hand, the other pulling your hips back. The cutest part by far has to be when you feel him jerk your skirt up, his cock pressing against your flesh and pushing inside of you, your squeals get louder and higher pitched and you struggle so hard, to no avail.

So mean, though, to pretend like you didn't see it coming. You know what you did. You led him on on purpose. Knowing full well the sort of things he's done to other people — beating his peers black and blue on impulsive whims, getting into fights because he felt like it, stealing stuff and vandalizing stuff and all those other things he knows you know he did, since it's all on his records… you willingly came all by yourself, in private, with someone like that, who you know full well is so much stronger than you are—

What did you fucking expect?

Up until then, the stream of words from his mouth are all amused and teasing and sadistic, but in those words, and the sharp jerking thrust accompanying them, you hear that underlying anger breaking through. You really hurt him, you know, by being married. He loves you so much, and you had to go and do that to me, he says, as if it was a retroactive choice, as if you should have predicted his presence in your life years in advance, as if you willfully did it to spite him years before you knew he existed.

Is it irrational? Sure… but it isn't going to change that he feels that way, and he’s mad and you can't do anything about it anyway, so he's going to keep blaming you for what you did wrong.

He keeps muttering about how stupid you are — for coming here so naively, for choosing your dumb fucking husband over him when he's so much better and loves you so much more, for all the little things you did to lure him in and make him want you so badly, for being so nice to him and having a body you should have known would make him want this so badly.

It's all your fault.

The words get more and more muffled and slurred as the movements get faster, harsher, you squeal with each thrust that makes the springs creak and the whole mattress itself move back and forth against the floor. He points out that you're leaking all over him, fluid drooling out of your hole and spilling onto his hips and thighs, satisfied by the shameful little whimper you make and the way you hang your head. You must not get fucked good enough at home, huh.

And then, he starts to slow down. There's a pause. You see him reach over, to where he tossed a few things that were on you when you came in onto the floor. Fishes something out of your purse.

You made a confused, panicked little sound when you notice he's holding your phone. Easily unlocked, whatever method you use — he holds it up to your face or forces your thumb to press against it, or, most alarmingly, even if it's protected by password or pattern, he enters it with a single try. Shouldn't have opened your phone around him so much, of course he would pay attention to that.

You're flipped onto your back, reeling from the sudden harsh movement, grunting and squirming when your bra is pulled up to your collarbones and your skirt pulled up even further, exposing your body completely before shoving back inside of you, and oh, what a euphoric sound you make — and this time, you visibly clench down on him when he does. Perfectly timed, too.

Your stomach clenches in dread and panic as you see your phone’s front side facing you.

Smile.

You cry out louder than ever before, struggle so hard, so good. His hand latches onto your throat and squeezes hard, and your hands, now no longer in his grasp, reach up to claw at them, all entirely futile. The sound of skin slapping skin reverberates around the room, and you see him tilt the camera downward, ensuring he captures the sight of his cock pounding into you, stretching you apart, all the slick fluid now coating everything from your thighs to his hips, and the sweet, precious sounds you make for him.

He wonders if anyone has ever made you react like this before. If your husband is going to be torn apart by the realization that he's made you feel better than he ever has, that he's better and bigger than him. The sheer fear on your face would suggest that. The thought feels euphoric.

He re-angles himself, leaning forward a bit, ensuring his body presses against your clit — you start to tense up, push back, your heels dig into the mattress and your body writhes with greater force than ever before. Your eyes squeeze shut and you shake your head but he doesn't stop, and you hate yourself so much in the moment for the sensations your body feels, the guilt and despair overwhelm you, you feel a cold chill in your gut — but you finally spasm and shudder on his cock all the same, clearly trying so hard to minimize it and hold back the sounds and movements, but the involuntary shudders and soft little cries are unmistakable all the same.

Normally, he would want to stay inside you longer — but there will be plenty of chance for that later. This time, the prospect of pulling out and capturing it is too tempting, and God, is it satisfying when he does. The squelching sound, the way his cum starts to drool out of you onto the mattress, the way your hole twitches from the sudden absence, slightly agape from the intrusion. It's so, so perfect, better than he could have even imagined.

You rip the tape off your mouth, gagging and coughing from the strain on your throat, and the overwhelming sensation leaves you in a dazed stupor for a few moments… your head slowly drags over to him, and an ice-cold spike of fear strikes through your heart when you see that he's still on your phone.

Slight movement from you as you try to push yourself upright takes his attention away from it, eyes flickering over to you.

Ah, right.

You make a scared little sound and pull your hands close to your chest (very cute!) as he looms over you again, but you're helpless to do anything as he puts the phone down to flip you over again, this time taping your wrists behind your back, adding a new layer over your mouth, and finally one on your ankles. Your struggles barely faze him.

You see him zip his pants back up and pull his shirt back on, standing and making his way over to the door, shuffling his shoes back on before grabbing your car keys.

I'll bring these back. Your place is only five minutes away if I drive, you know. I won’t get into any wrecks this time.

It occurs to you that you've never told him where you live, but it's the least of your concerns then and there. Your heart sinks to your stomach as he takes your phone again, grinning as he types and, after a pause, makes one distinct, final tap that you know can only be hitting 'send.'

His head turns over to you, that same dopey, carefree smile on his face as always, that now seems so much more sinister than before.

Don't worry. He won't have enough time to call the cops.

Your muffled words don't stop him. You writhe pathetically on the ground as the door opens and closes before you, listening in dread and despair as his footsteps slowly fade away.

[weebsinstash]

As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice

-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--

-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior

-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...

-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"

-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him

-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead

- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...

Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"

Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there

-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore

-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that

-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"

-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"

-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"

-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️

-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)

-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"

Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...

[callme-holly]

Do you think maybe you could write for Johnny where he goes on a first date with reader but he’s nervous and kinda messes it up but they try again and it works out? Sorry if that’s too specific!! Love your writing ♥️

'𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬' [𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I'm so sorry if parts of this doesn't make sense, I've been so sick this past week, my lungs are actually giving up on me.

Anyway, illness aside, as always I hope ya'll enjoy this and my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 897 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing and Johnny being Johnny <33

Johnny Cade chews on his bottom lip nervously, his fingers tapping against the surface of the table as he looks anywhere but you. He knows he should start up some sort of conversation; hell, he invited you here in the first place, but every time he opens his mouth to speak, he can't seem to muster up the words. His tongue feels like sandpaper, his throat dry and scratchy, and he can't help but notice the way you’re watching him from the other side of the table, eyebrows raised slightly as if you can sense that something is troubling him. 

Your eyes are gentle and sympathetic as they hold his own gaze firmly in place, but there's something else there too, something akin to sympathy. Or maybe it's concern. The same sort of concern that you would show to a frightened child or a scared cat. Johnny is not either of those things.

He clears his throat, looking down at his now half-empty coke bottle.

“So, uh,” he begins, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, not quite meeting your gaze. “What d'ya wanna talk about?” He tries to sound casual, but there's an underlying tone of nervousness that he can't seem to hide as you shrug slightly in response to his question.

 “Well, I don’t know,” you say softly. “I suppose we could talk about anything.”

His mouth opens, then shuts again just as quickly.

Anything? That wasn't helpful at all... 

“Do you... um...” He trails off for a second before shaking his head slightly. This was ridiculous. He knew what he wanted to say; why couldn't he get any fucking words out around you? 

Johnny shakes his head. “Never mind,” he mutters, his voice quiet as he goes back to staring at his coke bottle. You watch as his fingers tap idly at the glass, huffing out a small, quiet sigh. 

After another moment of silence, you reach across the table and take one of his hands, gently entwining your fingers with his. He stills instantly, startled by your touch, and you pull back slightly.

“Sorry. Was that too forward?”

“No!” His voice cracks slightly as he blinks owlishly at you. “Uh, no. It was... um... fine.” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “It's fine. I mean, you just... surprised me, that's all.” He laughs weakly before clearing his throat again. “What did you say you wanted to talk about?”

You smile faintly. “I didn't.”

“Oh.” He swallows thickly, trying to ignore how badly he wishes he could just turn and run for the door. Why had he let Dally talk him into this? His buddy didn’t know any more about dates than he himself did. He should’ve gone to Soda instead. 

“Johnny?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he turns to face you again, finding you watching him intently, an unreadable expression on your face as you slowly begin to pull your hand back once more. “Are you okay? You've been acting weird since we got here. If you're uncomfortable, I understand. We can leave and find something else to do.”

“No!” He blurts, reaching to entwine your fingers, only to knock over his drink in the process, the contents promptly spilling over the table and, much to Johnny’s horror, onto you. His eyes widen in dismay, and he stands abruptly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the table across from you and wiping up the spill as fast as his trembling hands will allow, a string of apologies tumbling forth from his lips as he does so. 

“Shit, I'm sorry,"  he manages to stammer before you cut him off.

“It's fine, Johnny. Don't worry about it.” You stand slowly from your seat, trying to ignore the cold press of the wet fabric on your skin as you usher him out of the diner, ignoring the strange looks you receive from other patrons. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, the greaser is throwing apologies at you once more, running a hand through his heavily greased hair. “God damn it, I'm so-”

You shake your head. “Hey,” you interrupt quietly. “It's okay. Really.”

“Still…” He hesitates, taking in a shaky breath before starting to speak again. “Look, can we maybe try again? Somewhere that isn't a busy diner with loads of people.” He rubs nervously at the back of his neck, unable to meet your gaze.

He didn't usually have a problem with busy places, but he certainly didn't enjoy it when everybody's attention was on him, their judgement heavy and suffocating as they bore holes into him with their disgusted stares. 

He shakes his head and adds, “Maybe somewhere with a lower risk of me spillin' my drink all over ya.”

Your lips tug upwards. “Sure, we can try again. How about a movie on Friday night?” 

Your suggestion brings a light flush to Johnny's cheeks, and he nods eagerly. A movie might help to take his mind off everything, to take away from his nerves a little bit. 

“Yea, sure.” He pauses and bites at his lower lip briefly. “You need me to walk ya home?”

You laugh softly. “No. It's only a few blocks. You get yourself home, Johnny Cade.”

He nods, looking hopeful. “Right. See you Friday?”

“Friday.��� You confirm, offering him one last smile before heading off in the direction of your house, leaving him standing dumbfounded on the curb.

Gosh, wait until Dally hears about this... 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part nine

authors note: ya'll had me rolling in the comments on the last update. calling this man big dick joe. lololol. i hope this one is okay. i'm not very good at writing those scenes, but i tried!! angst is def more my bread and butter.

song inspo: "with me" by destiny's child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: language, suggestive themes, smut

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“You look so damn good. If you don’t get ate out tonight, come back home early, and I’ll do the honors.”

It’s a miracle that you’re able to keep a straight face as Alexis does the finishing touches on your makeup. “Well, that’s not gonna happen, period, because this is just a date.”

Alexis pauses and gives you a look. “I know you’ve been out of the game for a while, but you do know what typically happens on dates, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you retort, “Lex, not everyone fucks on the first date.”

She sucks her teeth and swaps out the eyeliner for mascara. “Bitch, this is not a first date. He’s painted your walls too many times for you to say anything between ya’ll is a first.” 

As much as you hate it, she has somewhat of a point. You and Joe have checked so many boxes already that it does seem kinda silly to call this a first date. But, in many ways, it is. He’s never before asked you to go anywhere outside of the couple of times he invited you to his show, since you were already in town because he'd flown you out. 

But never anything beyond that. 

So, in that way, it is a first date.

And maybe that’s why you’re nervous. It’s a first too. Not a lot of things make you nervous. Even when you cheered, there was some level of anxiety before competitions, but even that was minimal compared to some of the panicked expressions you’d see on your teammates faces. When it comes to Callie, there are definitely a lot of things that make you nervous, but that’s just regular parental anxiety. 

So this butterflies shit is unfamiliar and annoying. 

It’s also just Joe. You know him, you know him better than almost anyone else in your life outside of Mariah and Callie. 

Thinking of Mariah, you grab your phone and hit the side button to see if you have any notifications. Instead, you’re just met with Callie’s smiling face.

Alexis sees this and comments casually, “still nothing?”

You don’t respond, because it’s not necessary. She already knows the answer. 

“Well, whatever she’s got going on, let her deal with it the way she wants,” Alexis advises, grabbing the powder brush to brush off some excessive powder on your cheeks. “You’ve got too many good things going on in your life for you to be stressed out over her fake ass.” 

She’s not entirely wrong. There’s definitely not a shortage of topics you still need to sort through, many of which should take precedent over you wondering what the hell is going on with your best friend since kindergarten. Still, it’s hard for you not to worry about her and feel confused about what’s shifted between the two of you.

You haven’t heard from her since you text her when Callie was in the hospital, and she replied back that she was praying for you and Callie and asked if you wanted her to come to the hospital. You thanked her but let her know that Joe was with you, so you were okay.

You haven’t heard from her since then. 

It’s not that difficult to put two and two together. There’s something about Joe that makes Mariah stay away and keep her distance. You just can’t figure out why.

“Okay, enough of your overthinking. Time to see my masterpiece.” She gloats and claps her hand, removing the towel she’d put around your chest area to prevent anything from spilling on your outfit. Alexis sighs, “you seriously look amazing, Y/N.”

Standing and stretching your back, you walk over to the full body mirror against the opposite wall of your bedroom. “Oh….”

The last time you actually dressed up was at the town’s annual Christmas party two years back. You’d always gone growing up and wanted Callie to experience it for herself, even though Callie ended up utterly disinterested, hence that being your last appearance. It was hard to justify dragging her to something she was too young to enjoy and even understand. 

So, seeing yourself done up like this is a shock. Alexis absolutely slayed your makeup, perfect wingliner and all. The white, ruched, off shoulder dress is form-fitting, hugging every curve you’ve had since a teenager that's only improved since having Callie. It’s a beautiful contrast against your melanin. You’ve always thought white on black women looked so classy. 

Your curls are styled and pinned into an almost pineapple atop your head. The jewelry is simple and basic: necklace and hoops. No bracelet considering the dress is long-sleeved.

All of this creates the absolutely stunning reflection staring back at you. It brings a smile to your face. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to actually get done up.

Alexis appears in the mirror and rests her chin on your shoulder, smiling broadly. “Told you. Boss bitch.”

Matching her smile, you turn to hug her. You really couldn’t have done this without her, even her offering to take Callie for the night as it was a nighttime date, and you doubted you’d be home before bedtime. “Thank you.” 

“You’re my best friend. You never have to thank me.” She wiggles her brow. “Just give me a rundown of the pounding that’s bound to commence tonight. A video will do as well.”

Your mouth drops open. “Alexis, you—”

“Mommy! I need you.”

You’ve never in your life felt so grateful to be needed by anyone. Maneuvering through the avalanche of clothes that make up most of your bedroom right now, the result of the two of you trying to figure out what the hell you were going to wear, you’re more than happy to saunter over to Callie’s playroom to see what she needs.

“What’s up, sis?”

You see she’s sitting at her little table, surrounded by crayons, markers, colored paper, and other art supplies. Her eyes fall on you with glee as she gasps loudly.

“Mommy, you look so pretty!”

There’s something about a heartfelt compliment from your child that provides such a level of joy.  

“Thank you, baby.” Moving closer to the table, you sit down on the chair opposite her, ignoring how goddamn uncomfortable it is. “What you got for me?”

She shuffles through a couple of pages and lifts one to show you. “Do you think Joe will like this?”

Your eyes study the colorful drawing she’s created against bright yellow—her favorite color—construction paper. It’s the average sun in the corner, green grass, and blue clouds drawing one would expect from a young child, but that’s not what immediately catches your attention. What draws your attention is the fact that there are two people she’s drawn, a heart between the two of them. 

Her and Joe.

Eyes watering, you do your best not to cry. You’re pretty sure everything on your face is waterproof, but you’re not trying to find out right now. Not when Joe should be arriving at your place any minute. “He’s gonna love it, Callie.”

Her face lights up with excitement at your approval. “Yay!” Taking it from you and tucking it underneath some other papers, she offers you another one. “I made this one too!”

You definitely can’t hold back the tears this time around. It’s the same backdrop, outside scenery but with a big house drawn behind the three of you: Callie, Joe, and yourself. With a heart over everyone’s head.

“Callie…..”

Callie, being young, sees your tears and automatically mistakens them for something else. Smile dropping and frown appearing, she moves up from the table and comes to hug you. “Don’t cry, mommy. I can make a new one!”

Wiping at your eyes, you shake your head, accepting her hug. “No, baby. Mommy’s crying because she’s happy, because she loves it.”

Instantly, her smile is back. “Really?”

“It’s beautiful. Is this one for your d—Joe too?”

Christmas can’t come soon enough, because this is at least the third time you’ve almost unintentionally given away Joe’s true identity. And that’s something you swore to him and yourself you’d allow him to reveal to Callie. It’s so hard though when moments like this occur, moments where you just want her to know the man she already loves is the same man who helped bring her into this world. 

She surprises you by shaking her head no. “I wanna put it in my room.” 

Sniffling, you nod, agreeing. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

Callie takes your hand and brings you into her room, the two of you taking a few minutes to decide where her photo should go. Eventually, she decides on right above her bed and you post it up using a thumbtack. 

Alexis walks into the bedroom to see what’s happening and gasps when she sees Callie’s drawing. “Callie, did you draw that? Sweetie, it’s so amazing!”

The compliment makes Callie smile harder as she says, “thank you!”

“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, kiddo.”

Her eyes light up, premature excitement brewing. “Can we watch Disney movies?”

“Not only can we watch Disney movies, but we can dance and sing with Disney movies.”

Oh Lord. You have a feeling Callie won’t be in bed by 7:30pm, but it’s not worth pushing back on. You’re just grateful she’s agreed to stay around in town long enough for your date to stay with Callie. You know you could always ask your mom, but she’s already helped out so much in the past couple weeks, you figured she could use a break. 

“Yay!” 

You and Alexis work to clean up the disaster that is your room as Callie busies herself in her playroom. Nearly finished, Alexis suddenly shares, “oh, I got something for you!”

Closing up your drawer, you place your hands on your hips. “Lex, you’ve already done so much for—-” you’re silenced by the box she’s suddenly reaching your way. “---me.” A headache is coming, migraine even. “Alexis, seriously?”

“What? It’s obvious ya’ll don’t use condoms.” Moving over to the side of your bed, she slides open the drawer of your nightstand and secures the box of Plan B.

“How many times do I have to say—”

Your 937589th time defending yourself that day is interrupted by the doorbell followed by Callie excitedly yelling “Joe!”

“I’ll get it,” Alexis offers, rushing over to you to give some quick, last minute advice. “You got this okay? It’s Joe. You know him like you know the back of your hand. You’re just hanging out with a muscular, 6’3 wrestler who also happens to be your baby daddy. No pressure.”

“Lex, sometimes you really do suck.”

“No, that’s going to be you tonight.” She laughs, ducking as you toss a decorative pillow in her direction. 

Blowing through your mouth, you attempt a mini pep talk, digging deep for the shitload you had and utilized as cheer captain what feels like so long ago.

“It’s just a date. Just a date.”

That’s the mantra, the ideal that you have to live by, have to pocket and keep with you at all times. 

Just a date. 

Grabbing your purse off the dresser, you slide on your heels and head out to the living room. What you’re met with is both expected and unexpected. Joe is holding Callie who’s clearly catching him up on everything he’s missed since he was last in town, minute by minute play, of course. But, Alexis is in the kitchen surrounded by three separate bouquets of flowers, one of red roses, one yellow, and one pink. 

Joe’s gaze is on you as soon as you enter the space, but your attention is focused on the breathtaking roses. 

“Have I told you he’s my top choice for you?” Alexis asks, explaining and pointing. “The pinks are for me, yellows are for Cal Gal, and the reds are, obviously for you.” A warm smile grows on your face. He’s so damn thoughtful. 

Walking over to him, you cross your arms. “Red roses are my favorites.”

“I remember.” Of course he does. He sweeps his eyes over you, slowly, meticulously. “You look beautiful.”

Bashful would never ever be a word you’d use to describe yourself, but it’s definitely how you feel in this moment. “Thank you.”

He looks good too, but that’s not surprising. Joe always looks good, even in his otherwise basic outfit of dark jeans, long sleeved black fitted shirt, and simple gold chain around his neck. The man could wear an orange jumpsuit, and you’d still want to fuck him silly. 

“Okay, Cal Gal, we better let them get going, so you and I can head out too.”

Alexis' words catch Joe’s attention, as he asks, protectively, “where are you taking her?”

Callie answers, “Auntie Lex and I are gonna have a sleepover at the hotel!”

Joe looks at you, quizzically. “I told her they can just stay here.”

“Just in case,” she winks at Joe and reminds you, quietly. “Nightstand, babes.”

Heading out is as expected. Callie asks once again if she can come with you guys, and Joe promises that the three of you will do something together at a later time. You remind Alexis to not allow Callie to pig out on junk food and go to bed on time, or at least, a decent time. 

Not that it means much. You know she’s gonna do what she wants, because that’s who Alexis is. 

That doesn’t bother you as much as Joe not telling you shit about this date other than that you probably won’t get back until late. Which isn’t much of anything. 

“What about a—”

He glances at you only for a second, then focuses back on the road. “The answer gon’ be the same as it was the last ten times you asked.”

Glaring at him, you cross your arms. “You know I hate surprises.”

“I’m aware.”

“But, you’re surprising me anyway?”

“Sure am.” Sucking your teeth and looking out the window, you cross your arms, turning your body away from him. “Watch the attitude, sweetheart, or I’ll fix it for you at the end of the night.”

His words shouldn’t make your thighs clench together.

“Whatever.” Pulling out your phone, you start to connect it to the car’s bluetooth. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not gonna sit here in silence, but I have nothing to say to you, so we need some music.” You’re certain he’s rolling his eyes but doesn’t say anything. Hardheaded ass. He definitely does speak up though when the iconic opening guitar from Smells Like Teen Spirit fills the SUV. 

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You leave me and my musical tastes alone.”

It seems like a rite of passage for every preteen or teenager to have some type of emo phase where they blast and rock out to Paramore like it’s a religious experience. Emphasis on phase. You never really grew out of yours. A love for rock music was something that stemmed from your love of paramore and morphed to the overall genre in general over the years. It was also something you and Alexis had in common, attending Warped your junior year of college. Joe always roasted you for this, because it was so unexpected.

You just liked your Breaking Benjamin just as much as you liked your Megan Thee Stallion.

“You know Callie likes it too,” you inform. One of your personal goals in life is to pass on your eclectic taste in music to your mini me. The appropriate music, of course. You never listen to anything provocative around her, even the clean versions. 

“You got her listening to this shit, too?”

Challenging him, you counter. “Would you rather her listen to Pound Town?” He shakes his head, running his hand over his beard. “That’s what I thought.”

Joe doesn’t ask you anything else, just lets you rock out to your music to help you avoid asking him the same damn question over and over again. But, you definitely do have questions that you’re absolutely asking when you see where he’s taken you. “Why the hell are we at the airport?” The bastard doesn’t say anything, and you start to repeat your question when he pulls around and you see it. 

“Joe, is that a fucking jet? You have a jet? We’re getting on a jet?” The questions keep rolling out as you find yourself unable to rip your eyes away from it. You’ve been on a plane before, but never a private jet. 

“No, we’re going to stare at it.” 

Your mind is a million and one places. Just what does this man have planned?

Jumping, you realize he’s not only parked, exited the vehicle, but is standing at your side of the car, door open. “Come on.” 

Angrily unbuckling your seatbelt, you jump out the car and continue to press him for answers. 

“Don’t get smart with me when I’m panicking. An actual jet? Where the hell are you taking us? Siberia?” He doesn’t say anything, just moves closer to you and places a hand behind your neck. 

“Do you trust me?”

You’re not sure if you’ve ever actually asked yourself that question, but interestingly enough, the answer is a no-brainer. 

“Of course.”

“Then shut up and come on.”

________

“We could have just gone to a local restaurant.”

Joe finally caved a bit and informed you that he was taking you to a restaurant out of town but within the same state. That was it. But, it was something, and it made you feel a little bit better about sitting here with him on a jet without a clue as to what’s going on.

“Why? So our waiter can be your ex-fiance?” You roll your eyes and decide against telling him the best restaurant in town is owned by your high school coach’s brother. “I’m tired of sharing you.” His strong arms are around you as he nuzzles his face into your neck. Because of course you’re sitting on his lap, the only “seat” he allowed you to use. “Want you to myself….”

Hands on his forearms, your eyes shut as you try to allow yourself to enjoy this. To enjoy him. He’s obviously gone to great lengths to make tonight special for the both of you, so the least you can do is be appreciative and try to enjoy the ride. A small smile on your lip, you taunt, “Callie might have something else to say about that.”

Just the mention of his daughter brings a smile to Joe’s face and yours too. Seeing how much he loves her gives you such peace and satisfaction. “What does she want for Christmas, by the way?”

Scoffing, you answer, smartly, “well, considering you’ve already bought her half of Toys-r-Us inventory, I’m not sure if there’s anything left for her to want.”

He’s unconvinced. “There has to be something. What did you get her?”

“Just random stuff, dolls, more art supplies.” To be honest, you’ve been so busy with everything else that much of your Christmas shopping still hasn’t happened. A rarity since you’re usually meticulous with these things, needing to know what paycheck they’re going to come out of, really. “I mean, the big thing is obviously Disney. That’s on every list: Christmas, birthday, Easter, Chinese new year.”

“Disney world?” He clarifies.

Nodding, you explain, “yup, but of course, because she’s our kid and too smart for her own good, she learned about the different parts like animal kingdom, epcot, and now she wants to see them all.” You’ll never forget the day she came running into your room, jumping on your bed, screaming, “there’s more, mommy! Lots more!”

“I’ve tried to explain I have to save for that, especially since I would want to take my mom with me, but she’s so young, she doesn’t understand it's either Disney, or we have a place to live.” Truth be told, you’ve always wanted to go to Disney too. So did your grandma. And the plan was to go for your high school graduation. Obviously….that never happened.

Your grandma passed away before you all had the chance. 

“I’ll take her. I’ll take all of you.” 

Sitting up, your brows furrow as you clarify, “shit, no. Joe, I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to ask you—”

“I know you weren’t. You’re too stubborn for that.” He’s not wrong, his finger moving up and down your side as he continues. “She wants to go. I’m sure you do too and your mom. I can make it happen, so let me make it happen.”

You hear what he’s saying, you really do, but considering you’ve sat down and cranked out the numbers for what this would cost, just for one person, it makes you almost nauseous to think how much he’d have to fork up.

Joe’s exceptionally well at reading you, speaking again. “I’m gonna say something, and I know you’re gonna push back, because like I said,  you’re stubborn as hell, but I’m gonna say it anyway because that don’t change shit.”

You eye him, skeptically. “I’m already annoyed,”

“Money is something you never have to worry about, especially if it’s for Callie.” You open your mouth to protest, but he lifts his hand to silence you. “I’ve got you, and I’ve got her. Whether you want me to or not.”

It’s such a strange shift, traveling from this mindset where you are the sole financial provider for your child to having a partner who has more money than he knows what to do with and doesn’t mind spending it to make your child happy. To make you happy. 

“Let me do something for my daughter.”

He’s got you there, even if he’s done so much already. You’ve already denied him so much more. Why add to the list? “Okay.” There’s no support for an argument. Who are you to try to get in the way of a father fulfilling his daughter’s lifelong dream? Sure, you could probably make it happen eventually, but time waits for no one. And you can’t really fault Joe. He just wants to do something nice for her daughter. “But….but not Christmas. Her birthday, maybe?”

This seems to work for him as well as he nods in agreement, probably thinking of the benefit to having more time to arrange being away from work.

Joe does an excellent job distracting you for the rest of the ride, which ends up being relatively short, definitely not as long as you expected. Granted, nothing so far has been what you expected, especially when a driver picks you up from the airport and transports you to this top secret location.

Hand in his, Joe leads you inside the building that’s revealed to be a restaurant of some sort. Gracefully decorated and almost entirely empty. 

Touched, you ask in a soft voice, “you rented out a restaurant for us?” 

He glides his thumb over your knuckles and brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “Not exactly.” 

“Joe, is that you?” 

A voice calls out, and he answers back with a yes.

Confused, you watch an older black woman with salt and pepper hair emerge from the back of the restaurant, wearing one of the friendliest smiles you’ve ever seen. You study her, wondering why she looks so familiar. 

“There you are,” she greets, clapping her hands on her apron. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

“Sorry, we’re late,” he apologies and releases your hand to bend down and hug this woman. Separating, he looks at you, introducing, “Joyce, this is Y/N.” Taking your hand again, he explains, “baby, this is—”

“Joyce Green,” you finish for him. “Oh my goodness, my mom and I watch your show.” 

Joyce and Dennis Green.

Known as the culinary king and queen throughout your state. They have a chain of restaurants that stretch over the south, a successful cookware line, and television show that’s been atop the charts for years. Arguably, the most successful, African-American couple in this part of the culinary world. 

Suddenly a bit starstruck, you offer your hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She looks at you and waves off your offer. “Baby, I’m a hugger.” Laughing, you accept her warm hug as she pulls back and assesses you. “You just a pretty little thing, ain’t you?” She compliments, and you’ve never felt so validated in your life. There’s just something about compliments from older black women that heal the soul. Her eyes shift to Joe. “And you….my Lord, he took his time with this one.”

Biting your lip, you agree, “sure did.” 

Joe chuckles and says, “thank you for agreeing to this again.” 

“Of course. My grandbaby still talks about your make-a-wish visit. It’s our honor to have you here.” You say nothing but realize this is how he knows them, how he arranged for whatever this is. She claps her hands together and asks, “now what would you say is your level of experience with cooking?”

It’s directed to both of you, but you answer first, “I can cook a little bit.”

Joe looks at you, brow raised before telling Joyce. “That’s not what her mom or our daughter says.”

“Ya’ll have a baby?” Her eyes light up. “Could I see a picture? If you don’t mind, that is.” Joe shakes his head and pulls out his phone, unlocking the screen which reveals not only a picture of Callie, but you as well, the two of you smiling together. 

She gasps. “Oh, she’s beautiful.” She looks between the both of you. “Perfect combination, but she has your smile.”

“Thank you.” Anyone saying anything nice about your Callie always lands a genuine grin on your face. “It’s the dimples,” you add.

“Joyce, are you in there talking a hole in them people’s heads?” Another voice enters the room, and you see an older black man also wearing an apron around them. Dennis. This is Dennis.

Joyce sucks her teeth. “Oh hush, you old fool.” She beckons him over, and he shares a quick hug with Joe before her eyes rest on you. Joyce introduces, “this is his girlfriend. Ain’t she pretty?”

“Sure is,” Dennis agrees, shaking your hand. “Pleasure to meet you, young lady.”

Your focus is partially on the conversation at hand but also on how she introduced you. 

Girlfriend. 

You’ve never once considered yourself that to Joe, even in being with him for three years. It always felt wrong and invalid. Because of his wife.

But, she’s out of the picture now.

What reason is there for there not to be a label between the two of you?

Shaking your head, you try to return to the present. 

This is ending up being so much more than just a date.

________

“How long have ya’ll been together?” 

You’re in the midst of mincing garlic when Joyce asks her question. 

This wasn’t just a dinner date. It was a private cooking lesson with thee Joyce and Dennis Green. Not many things made you giddy, but this was definitely one of them. 

Thinking on her question, you realize it’s something you’ve never thought about and thus have no idea how to answer. Because just how does one quantify your relationship? Can you even count the three years you were actually together when he was legally married to someone else? 

Joe, conversely, has no difficulty answering.

“Almost eight years.”

Joyce glances at your left hand. “How much time you need to make up your mind, young man?”

“Oh, Joyce, leave them kids alone,” Dennis chides, carefully chopping up the onions. “Let em’ do what they want.”

“I’m just saying, you already have a child together,” she continues, asking, “What’s stopping you from taking the next step?”

“Uhhh, we, we’ve had some ups and downs,” you answer, hoping the change in tone will indicate this is a sensitive subject.

“I see, well….” You can tell she’s trying to carefully choose her words, and you’re grateful for that thoughtfulness and respect. “All things considered, you seem to have found your way back to one another, so that has to mean something.”

Her words resonate deeply. She’s right. Yes, obviously Callie will always bound you to Joe in some sort of capacity, but countless people co–parent without being together. However, that doesn't seem to be the case with the two of you, something tethers you together. 

And it’s not just the child you share together.

The four of you work together to prepare your meal with Joyce and Dennis having to be extra patient with you, because Joe of all trades over there excels without the need of much help. It’s annoying how he’s just naturally good at so many things. 

At one point, Joyce gently whispers to you, “some people just don’t got it, baby, and you don’t. That’s okay.”

Of course, Joe hears this, and you have to stop yourself from flipping him off. Instead, you settle for mouthing asshole.

The entire process takes about an hour, and when the meals are finished, you’re surprised to find that Joyce and Dennis move to a separate room to eat. It’s not something that entirely bothers you though. You enjoy your alone time with Joe. And it allows you the space to briefly FaceTime Callie in the middle of your meal to tell her goodnight, an absolute must. 

Not even just for you anymore, but Joe too. 

She has to see and speak to the both of you before she can fall asleep.

You can’t wait for her to find out the truth. 

Stealing off Joe’s plate, you quickly realize that while your food came out fine, his is delicious. It’s why you decide to seat yourself on his lap instead of your chair so you’re not constantly reaching over the table. 

“You done messed up your food, and now you wanna come after mine?” Ignoring him, you bring a forkful to your mouth, moaning instantly. 

Covering your mouth as you finish chewing, you exclaim, “it’s so good.”

He chuckles, hand on the small of your back. “I see I’m the one who’s gonna have to do the cooking for us.”

“Well, according to you and everyone else, I can’t cook, so—”

“You can’t, but that’s okay. I hoped this would help, but you may be beyond help—” He laughs as you shove on his chest.

“You’re such an ass….” Gaze softening, you bring your hand to his face, gripping his beard. “Thank you for this. It’s incredibly sweet.”

And you mean that. Joe didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to do any of it. But, this is just who he is, a kind, sweet, thoughtful man. It’s what makes him such an amazing father. 

An amazing partner.

He kisses your palm. “You’re welcome….”

Once the food is finished, you two spend the rest of the time just talking, laughing, enjoying each other. You could never get tired of being around this man. His energy is so warm and welcoming. You’re starting to relate more and more with Callie’s difficulty every time he leaves. This night is too short, but you wonder if you could ever have enough time to be with him.

As the night draws to a close, you two reunite with Joyce and Dennis to thank them for a wonderful evening. However, it’s the closing remarks that really sit with you. When Dennis pulls back from his hug, he whispers to you, “young lady, I’ve lived a long life, so trust me when I tell you this.” You watch him, listening intently. “A man doesn’t look at a woman the way Joe looks at you unless he’s in love.” 

Your breath catches in the back of your throat. That’s….definitely not what you expected him to say. And Joyce is no different. She holds onto you a little longer in the hug, and you’re grateful. She reminds you so much of your grandmother. 

“A little piece of advice from an old lady?” It’s almost impossible to prepare for whatever is about to leave her mouth, your mind still trying to sit on Dennis' words. “You don’t lose love by sending it away” A beat. “All you’re doing is making it grow stronger.” 

________

The rides home are more quiet than the journey there, and that’s because you’re trying to balance this heavy battle between your head and your heart. 

Your mind is all over the place. You’ve felt so conflicted since opening the door for Joe for the first time in almost five years. And you don’t regret it, far from it. Callie’s father is in her life. She has that relationship, that love with him. 

That’s all you wanted, all you expected. 

You didn’t expect for your feelings for him to resurface or his for you to be as strong as they clearly are. 

It’s such a suffocating, overwhelming experience. 

And at the same time, everything you’ve ever wanted. 

He is everything you’ve ever wanted. 

Walking into your apartment, Joe locks the door behind the two of you, always wanting to make sure you’re straight before he leaves. As he always does. 

He brings his hands to your face, concerned, asking, “what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Your eyes close, hand to his chest. 

This is too hard, too painful, too difficult. 

You can’t do it anymore.

“Fuck it.”

In a matter of seconds, your lips are on his and his hands are all over your body. It’s explosive, the both of you battling for dominance, Joe’s tongue circling around yours. You moan into his mouth, and he hikes you up on his waist. 

"Are you sure?" He breathes against your mouth and you nod fervently.

Come what may, you'll deal with it then. You need this. Need him

Gaining your consent, he skillfully guides you to your bedroom only breaking the kiss when he places you on the floor in front of the bed. “Take off your clothes.” 

His tone is authoritative, demanding, but even if it wasn't, it's not like he needs to ask twice. You squeeze yourself out of your dress, tossing it to the side. As the top was padded and shoulders out, you didn't bother with a bra. And before you can hook your fingers around your underwear to discard them, Joe tosses you on the bed, hovering over you.

He lifts his shirt over his head, and you chew on your bottom lip. This man is too fine. His strength has always been so sexy to you. As a woman on the thicker side, you’ve always needed a man who could handle you in the sheets. And Joe was more than adept in that area. 

He stares at you like you're the most precious thing he's ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. Your stomach flutters. No ones ever been able to make you feel things like Joe can.

Its such a welcomed experience, one you've missed deeply.

“God, you’re beautiful….” 

His big hands travel your body, but it’s when he bites down on the strap of your panties and glides them down your legs that your back arches off the bed. You're already so wet, dampness coating the inside of your thighs.

You need this man more than one needs air to breathe.

“Patience, baby.” His voice is soothing on a surface level but does little to abate the fire burning through your entire body, the throbbing in your center. “Don’t I always take care of you?” When you don’t give him an answer, too busy trying to settle yourself, his hand grips your thigh. Tight. “I asked you a question.”

Swallowing, you nod, answering, “y-yes, you do.” 

Pleased with your obedience, he goes to remove his pants, and your eyes go straight to his massive bulge. You wet your lips. The moonlight shining through the window creates a backdrop of his broad shoulders, silk hair down and free. Just how you like it. 

He’s so beautiful and yours. 

Only yours.

Your hand reaches for his abs, wanting to touch him, when he captures your wrist, bringing your fingers to his mouth, sucking slowly, teasingly. 

Groaning, your head tilted back, another spasm works its way through your core. You need this man, and you need him now.

Joe detects as such and hovers over you, one rough hand grasping your breast as he glosses his lips over your clavicle. Moaning, you lift your thigh against his hip, wanting, needing some type of friction. 

He begins lining kisses down your body, lips leaving a flaming trail of desire in its wake. “Spread your legs for me, baby. And keep 'em open.” He doesn’t have to ask twice. You heed to his command, opening yourself to him. He kisses the inside of your thighs, eyes alight with desire. “Before you come on my dick, gotta taste this pretty pussy.” 

Joe makes a sound, taking his finger and swirling it around your pussy. A sticky line of your cum drips from his fingers, and you nearly come right then and there watching him suck it off. 

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing both of your legs over his shoulders, hooking them behind your knees. “Forgot how sweet you are.”

His cool breath hitting your core is the first thing you feel followed by that deliciously talented tongue taking one long swipe up your cunt. Instantly, your back is arching off the bed. That’s how sensitive you are to him, how easily your entire existence becomes focused solely on him and the insane pleasure he provides you.

The tip of Joe’s tongue swirls around your swollen, sensitive bud as he uses his other two fingers to keep your folds open, available to and for him to do whatever he wants. He plays with you, a tactic you’ve noticed he gets off on, edging you in a sense.

“Stop playing with me,” you groan, even if this feels just as good as anything else. It’s not what you want, what you need. What you need is his mouth on you, not this toying shit.

Sucking his teeth, he blows on your clit, and you hiss. “You really gon tell me how to take care of my pussy?” There’s a trace of humor in his voice as he dips one finger inside of you, smiling at the way you grip at the sheets. “Naw, baby. I know what you need.” 

And that’s when he finally does away with the teasing, locking your legs on his shoulders with his hand and buries his face into your pussy. “Shit!” It’s what you wanted, most definitely what you needed, but not what you expected. 

Fuck. He’s too good at this. 

Joe alternates with expert strokes, sucking and flicking your pussy, with a yearning and longing that’s matched only by the rapture soaring through your body. 

He eats your pussy like he does all things in life, with passion and dedication.

“Joe.” Tears burn your eyes as he continues to eat at you, rarely breaking for air and never allowing your body time to recover. He’s back to back, bringing you to climax and going right back to eating you out.

You’d forgotten how much he loved this. It’s nearly impossible to recall how many times this man has had his face in between your legs, but you could most definitely count how many times he’d let you return the favor. Joe didn’t care much about receiving. He was a pleaser, through and through.

“Baby, please, I can’t—I—-“ and it’s a waste of time because every inch up the bed is met with his strong hands on your hips, tugging you closer. Even as you cum, hard, nearly convulsing off the mattress, he stays sucking your pussy, lapping every bit of it up as his tongue circles your sensitive bud.

You’re not sure when he finally comes up, just that it’s after at least two orgasms. Maybe three. Keeping count with Joe is always a waste of time, because it’s always going to be several.  Panting, eyes fluttering, you take in the sight of him. His beard is wet, glistening with the result of his expert work. “I love eating this pussy.” His finger swirls and plays around with the absolute drenched mess you’ve made. “but I need you to come on my dick now.”

There’s a bit of dissociation in the next few minutes. He’s tongue fucked all of your five senses out of you that it’s only when you realize he’s got you on your hands and knees, dick teasing your soaked entrance that you're aware of what's about to happen. 

“Wait.” Your breath is haggard, voice drained from only this man’s tongue. This. This is the shit he does to you. This is why it took so long for you to let him go all those years ago. It’s the same reason you don’t think you’ll ever be able to let him go. Not after this. “I need—you gotta let me adjust, Joe.”

Joe’s dick is thick, long, and curved. The best you’ve ever had, but it’s been years since you last had him, so he has to take it easy on you, allow you time to accommodate him.

“You can take this dick, baby,” he encourages, pushing down on the top of your back until your cheek is pressed into the pillow, back arched perfectly. “And you always will.”

His tip nudges your sticky, gushy opening, starting a slow entrance that has your hands fisting. Inch by inch, he enters you, jaw clenching at how tightly your cunt clenches him. 

It’s been too long since he’s been inside you.  

“Oh my god.” You’d forgotten this, forgotten the delicious stretch of him inside of you, forgotten how deep he could go, touching you, reaching you in all the areas no one else could. And you had tried. God, you tried. Had your hookups, but no one was checking Joe’s box when it came to length, girth, and skill. And that tongue. Fuck, Joe ate your pussy like you were his last supper every single time.

Never a miss.

He doesn’t need to ask if you’re good. Joe sees the way you back your ass onto him, eager for him to fuck you like only he knows how to.

And he obliges. 

He slams into you with a force that has you wanting to scream out bloody murder. He feels so damn good inside of you. He stretches you so good, and you take him just as well.

“You on the pill?” He suddenly asks, slowing the speed and force of his thrusts, watching and enjoying your moans as he cruelly teases you, halting at your entrance before gradually re-entering. He’s playing with you, and it’s both blissful and miserable. 

Whining, you manage to answer, “fuck—n—no.”

“Good.” You shout when he slams back into you with such force that you reach for the headboard, needing something to keep you leveled. “Gonna fill you up with my cum.”

“Joe….” His words register, but it’s hard to think straight with this man fucking you so good. Shit, you missed this. “We—” You’re cut off again when he reaches in front of you, hand ghosting over your pussy, index finger circling your clit. “We ca—”

“I’m not pulling out.” He groans above you, the way your shit grips him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“You’re just big,” you counter and cry out when he slides out of you and slams at a different angle that has your big breast slapping against your chest. “Shit, Joe.”

“Can he fuck you how I can?” For a second, you’re confused cause who the fuck is he talking about? There’s only one person that exists in your world right now, and that’s the man blowing your back out. “Answer me,” he demands, bringing a hand down on your ass. 

You cry out, “no, baby.” Your eyes water. He’s so deep in you. “N–no one fucks me like you do.” 

“Exactly,” he continues to play with your clit as you work hard not to let your entire apartment building know you’re getting your entire insides rearranged. “Your moans are for me,” he slows down momentarily, no doubt enjoying the view of his thick dick sliding in and out of you, coated in your cream. “You scream out my name.” 

“Yes, baby,” you whimper. You and Joe have fucked plenty of times, but this is different. There’s a meaning in every word that leaves his mouth, an oath behind every declaration. You know that after tonight, there is no turning back. 

“You’re mine,” he growls, big hands moving to the small of your back, holding you down and against the bed as he rams into you, determined and focused. “You’ve always been mine.”

Tears burn your eyes when he suddenly yanks you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. His hair fans part of your face, mouth pressed against your temple. “I can take care of you. Take care of this pussy. You don’t need nobody but me.”

Reaching your hand behind to caress his scalp, you murmur, head laid back against him. “I don’t want anybody but you.”

There’s something about your words, so vulnerable, so sincere. With a gentleness that’s contrasted all of his fucking thus far, he pulls out of you and lays you on your back. A whimper leaves your mouth at the loss of him inside of you only for him to move his body over yours and lift your legs to his waist. He sinks into you again, and you moan together, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he finds a pace that pleases the both of you.

Ankles locking above his ass, you enjoy the different kind of depth this allows. People shit on missionary, but it’s one of your favorite positions with Joe. It’s a level of connectedness and togetherness that makes you feel so close to him. Like you two are one and the same. 

“You're so good for me,” he continues to talk you through it, tears streaming down your face as he repeatedly thrusts against your g-spot. “So fucking good around me, fucking made for me.”

His words send you over the edge.

Hands on his face, forcing him to meet your gaze, you encourage, gently, “come with me.” He looks at you, and you know. You just know that there's not much, if anything, you could ask that he wouldn't do for you.

His thrusts become more uncontrolled, erratic, and that’s how you know it’s coming, building up until there’s a blinding white light behind your eyes, toes curling and head rocking back against the pillow. Joe is not far behind, staying true to his promise as he empties inside of you every bit of his cum until there’s nothing left.

Joe doesn’t move from off you, doesn’t remove himself from inside of you, instead his body rests on top of yours. Panting, you bring your hands to his scalp, nails gently raking through his hair as he lays against your chest, muttering, “let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”

You don’t want him to move anyway, don’t want him to go anywhere. You never did, just followed what you felt and believed was right. Joyce’s wise words from earlier suddenly return to the forefront of your mind. 

“You don’t lose love by sending it away. All you're doing is making it grow stronger.” 

That’s never felt and rang more true than in this moment.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Maybe dc×dp Jazz×Jason magical ceremony bullshit for soulmate friday?

"Hear-ye-hear-ye!" A glowing green man dressed in what looked like the stereotype for any comedic relief in midevial films called out as he floated above the city of Gotham, his voice projected around the world. "Her Royal Highness, Queen Regent of the Infinite Realm Throne has decided to cast the Ritual of Bindings, to draw her soulmate near in order to give DNA to help the Deaged King who has been injured and needs to be Reborn! Queen Regent Jasmine Nightengale will cast the spell in Three Scores! All those touched by Death may be called!"

Predictiably people freaked, running around screaming. Or talking about it, which was what the Justice League did right after, speaking at the table.

"Look, it's legit," John Constantine said to the others. "I've met Danny, the King, before he became deaged, and he's a good sort so is his sister. If she's calling upon the ritual... well, I honestly think she has no other choice."

"So she's going to force whoever-" Bruce said but John glared at him.

"No she ain't. Rather she'll give them a choice. It would be safer for her spouse to be her soulmate but she could find any random man to sleep with to get the DNA." he told Bruce who nodded grumpily. It appeared all they could do was wait.

After three hours, Bruce got an alert. Jason's tracker went offline. He didn't think of the Queen then, rather became worried about other things.

He should have thought of the Queen.

-0-

Jason found himself in a throne room, and reacted appropriately. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at a guy in armour. "Where the fuck am I?" he demanded.

"You are in the throne room of the Infinite Realms." a feminine voice said from behind. He turned to see a redhead behind him, dressed in a black dress. "I am Queen Regent Jasmine, and you are my soulmate."

"...Oh shit," Jason said, remembering the proclamation. He looked at the woman who looked back nervously. "This is for... the King?"

"My brother Danny is the High King. He was injured by an enemy of his, Plasimus. Vlad, our enemy, was obsessed with our mother. He wanted her but she hated him. Eventually he discovered Danny was transgender, as well as learning that Danny is like himself, what the citizens of the Infinite Realms call a halfa. Half human, half ecto being as they are called." Jasmine said in a tone that became choked as she spoke. "He attempted to claim Danny. I don't know how, he became confusing with calling my brother a son or a consort. I don't know which he meant and I don't want to know." Jasmine swallowed. "He attacked and our parents passed in the attack while Danny became injured. He needs to be Reborn, and I can provide half the DNA. I need another half."

"So... you want this a one off?" Jason asked. "Why not go out and pick up a random?"

"I don't want a one-off. I want a partnership. I want to raise my... my child with a partner. I also want him safe, and calling upon my soulmate will help." Jasmine said. Jason stared at her, wondering what to do.

He had never thought of marriage, or kids. Frankly with his life he didn't think it a reasonable thought. But here was a Queen asking him. His soulmate even.

(The part of him who loved the classics, who snuck smut novels and who had opinions on romance flicks was cooing inside of him, begging for this chance.)

Jason always did like kids...

"Alright so... what do we do?" he asked Jasmine who smiled beautifully. He wanted to put that smile on her more.

[lowkeyerror]

By Your Side

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Notes: Set right after Endgame, has aspects of Wandavision, sort of domestic, A lot of comfort from Wanda, I think it's a lil sweet

Summary: Y/n was the youngest member of the Avengers before the blip, she had to do a lot of growing in those 5 years. Through that experience she learned that no one deserves to be alone during hard times, which is why she offers to house Wanda.

An: 2 post... look at me go

Masterlist

It was impossible for Y/n not to fall for Wanda. It was never the girl's intention. In fact, it never crossed her mind, that was until the pair were reunited after Thanos was defeated.

Y/n was a young adult when the blip happened. A member of the Avengers, the youngest official member (sorry Peter). She was in her early twenties, to the team she was just a kid.

Before the blip, she had resented them for that rhetoric, but when half her team was wiped from existence, she felt so small. She felt like a child thrown into the deep end of a pool.

The reality of her situation forced her to grow up. The next 5 years were hard for her. She found herself isolated from the former members of the team. Mostly because Y/n did not give up being a hero.

Partially because it was the only thing she knew how to do. The other part of it was tied to the fact that the world needed heroes, more now than ever.

When Scott Lang came about and somehow was able to convince the team to get back together. It was interesting, they had all changed a lot. However, Y/n had definitely changed the most.

The experience that she had previously lacked was now present. She no longer had any question about her skill or ability. Y/n had a level of maturity that they would have never guessed lived inside of her.

Y/n was a key piece in bringing everyone back. The victory was more bitter than sweet. The losses that were suffered were tremendous.

Everyone had lost a lot, but amongst those who lost the most, Wanda's name popped into Y/n's mind.

Y/n hadn't got the chance to talk to her until Tony's funeral. Y/n stood between Wanda and Clint.

Throughout the whole thing she had stood strong with her head up; When her friends first disappeared, when she lost Nat, and when she lost Tony, but here at the funeral she felt like a child once again.

Y/n's fists were balled at her sides, and she chewed viciously on her bottom lip in hopes of not sobbing.

" You ok?" Wanda spares the girl a glance.

She doesn't speak, instead she closes her eyes and nods.

Wanda doesn't take her answer at face value, yet, she doesn't verbally challenge Y/n. Instead, she forces her hand into Y/n's balled up fists. The redhead interlocks their fingers and gently rubs Y/n's hand. The feeling makes the sob escape the girl's lips.

" Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm alright, it's just-"

Wanda shakes her head," You don't have to do that with me."

" Do what?"

Wanda turns her full attention towards Y/n," I know things haven't been easy the last 5 years, especially for you. You had to grow up before you were ready to. You've done an amazing job. But when you're with me, you don't have to be that invincible hero, you can just be Y/n."

Y/n had tears streaming down her face before Wanda finished speaking. She let her body shake as she began to let go of everything that happened to her. Wanda pulled her away to a more secluded area. She held the girl as she cried like a baby.

Y/n was taller than Wanda, so she stood awkwardly, burying her head in the red head's shoulder. Wanda's hand gently stroked the back of the girl's head.

She could sense that Y/n had been through a lot, but she wanted to know. Wanda knew pain, she was feeling it too, but the way Y/n cried made her put her hurt aside for a moment.

" I want to know what happened to you," Wanda whispers as she holds Y/n.

The hero nods against Wanda's shoulder, seemingly knowing what she's asking. When Wanda takes a peek into Y/n's mind, she feels everything the girl felt for the last 5 years.

The guilt, the uncertainty, the loneliness, the pressure, the sadness, and the pain. She felt it all, and it was astounding to her. Y/n had such a deep connection with her own feelings, it felt like the girl could drown in them.

" I've got you," she holds the girl a little tighter after digging through her memories.

Once Y/n doesn't feel like she can cry anymore, she stands up straight, and viciously wipes at her tears.

" What are- where are you going after this?"

" I'm not really sure, but-"

Y/n cuts her off," Come stay with me."

Wanda let out a sigh, "But I want to see Vision, is what I was saying."

Y/n nods," I think I can help with that."

Once the funeral was over, Y/n wasted no time driving Wanda to S.W.O.R.D headquarters. The hero was quite certain the man's body was in that building.

Wanda was anxious, it was easy to tell. Y/n understood to some extent for those who were blipped it was almost like no time passed. So to a certain extent, the last thing Wanda felt before her return was the heartbreaking loss of her other half.

When the pair arrived, Wanda basically charged in the building. She walked up to the front desk and demanded to see Vision. The man at the desk repeated something about her not having clearance, just a bunch of bullshit really.

" If you don't let her see him, I will start calling in favors from Pepper. Which is my way of saying I will forcibly make you return him, as he is technically an intellectual property that is patented by Tony Stark."

Before he could respond, his radio went off. The security looked uncertain, but gave them directions, and told them to go through the door.

Wanda didn't waste any time opening the sliding door with her powers and strutting down the hall. Y/n trailed behind her, not wishing to get in her way.

Wanda was annoyed to open the door and find the director of S.W.O.R.D, rather than Vision. He was talking, mostly to her, but she was hardly listening.

That was until he pulled back the curtain in the room. Y/n knew what it was as soon as she laid eyes on it. Her eyes widened in horror.

The horror was soon turned to anger, as he then accused Wanda of trying to bring Vision back to life.

" What the fuck is your problem?" Y/n could help herself.

" Hey, I'm just covering my bases here. It's my job and unfortunately, I cannot allow you to take $3 billion worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground. So the best I can do is to let you say goodbye to him here."

Y/n sees the sadness and desperation permeating off of Wanda, as her finger touch the glass that separate her from the parts of Vision," He's all I have."

" That's just it, Wanda. He isn't yours."

Y/n couldn't believe he would say something like that. It was taking everything in her power not to snatch him up and threaten him.

Wanda broke the glass and chaos ensued. The director stayed up in the office while Y/n jumped down to be next to Wanda. Her eyes moved around to the men with guns pointed solely on the red head.

" Tell them to put the guns down," Y/n made no room for bargaining in her tone.

The director complied, and the men lowered their weapons as Wanda approached Vision.

Her hand stretched out over his head. The sight broke Y/n's heart, but what completely shattered it was what Wanda said," I can't feel you."

Wanda walked away calmly after that. Y/n followed behind her. They left the building in silence.

Y/n got in the driver's seat with a heavy sigh. She wanted to find something to say to the redhead, but she knew didn't have the right words. No matter what said Vision wasn't coming back and Wanda wouldn't be hurting any less.

The woman in the passenger seat looked empty. The only thing Y/n could think to do was offer the woman her hand to hold.

Y/n kept her eyes on the road as Wanda stared at her hand. Eventually, Wanda's hand gently intertwined with Y/n's. The driver gave the hand a light squeeze as she took off in the direction of her home.

The drive was long and silent. Y/n didn't mind, she was drained not only from the day, but from the last 5 years of her life. It finally felt like that chapter had come to an end.

The ending wasn't perfect, it wasn't even necessarily happy, it was just over. Now she would have to somehow continue to move forward without really knowing what that means or what it looks like.

When the pair finally arrived at Y/n's, the driver was exhausted. Are slowly climbed out of the car with Wanda trailing behind her.

" I'll give you a proper tour tomorrow, if that's alright. For now all you really need to know is that, that's the bathroom, that's my room, and yours is right across. I'll get you some towels and pj's right now."

She mumbled a quiet 'thank you' and Y/n left her standing in the living room. Wanda noted that Y/n's house had a comfortable aura around it. It felt lived in and cozy.

She had pictures littering the wall, most of them featured the Avengers. It's sweet, and for a moment it made the woman sad. To think that every day Y/n would come home and see the pictures of the people she loved. Half of them wiped from existence and the other half wanting nothing to do with her.

It had to be lonely for the young hero. When Y/n re-emerged from her room with the stuff, Wanda took it graciously.

" Well I'm probably just going to go to bed, but um help yourself to literally anything you want. And don't hesitate to come get me if you need me, ok?"

" Thank you, for everything Y/n," Wanda gave the woman a sad smile.

Y/n shook her head," It's nothing really."

Wanda wanted to argue, but she didn't have the energy. She let the young woman retire to her bedroom, opting to shower and go get some rest as well.

As time moved forward, Y/n found herself struggling. Now that the missing people had returned from the blip, she found it hard to find a place to fit in.

While there was a lack of heroes in the last 5 years, a good chunk had returned to hero work the moment they were brought back. Meaning that Y/n wasn't needed as much as she was before.

This coupled with the reality that most of the people she worked with had opted to retire from crime fighting or had tragically passed on. The reality of it all was hard for her.

It seemed like 5 years ago she had to rapidly adapt to a situation she wasn't ready for, and now 5 years later the same thing was happening again.

The only thing that was different was that this time she wasn't alone. Wanda was in her corner.

At first, Y/n hated relying on Wanda. The woman had been through enough. Y/n thought that unloading her baggage onto the woman was unfair. So she tried to pretend that she was fine, that none of this bothered her in the slightest.

However, it didn't really work. Wanda had told Y/n, on a number of occasions, that her thoughts were loud. This made Y/n try to clear them before she would come home, but then Wanda counter with her mind was empty.

" Just talk to me, Y/n."

Y/n shook her head," It's nothing."

Wanda sighed," It's not nothing if it's bothering you this much."

" You have enough to think about without me dumping all my emotions on you," Y/n raised her voice.

" I would have one less thing to worry about if you would just tell me how you're feeling, so I didn't have to keep guessing."

Y/n couldn't control her outburst," Fine. I don't understand why I can't find any work. I feel so underappreciated by my peers and the citizens. For 5 years, I was one of the few ones coming to the rescue for any of these people. I was a key part in bringing these people back to their families. I pushed aside my feelings and my pain to be a hero, and as soon as I've done all of the fixing it seems like they don't need me anymore. Like I was just a substitute. I gave up so much, and I'm still willing to give more, but now that there's no Iron Man, no Black Widow, no Captain America, and no Avengers, I'm just an afterthought. And-"

Y/n could've kept going if she didn't just break down sobbing. She could've gone on forever. Wanda was quick to wrap her arms around the girl.

" Why do I still feel like I'm not good enough?"

The woman had cried for what seemed like an eternity. Wanda held her, stroking her back soothingly. Trying to provide Y/n all the comfort she could give.

The woman ended up crying herself to sleep in Wanda's arms. Wanda wiped at Y/n's tear stained cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.

She ended up laying the girl down in the bed. She stared at her former teammate for a long while.

Y/n had given up so much of herself to the hero world. She deserved better than this.

" You are good enough, detka," is the last thing Wanda says before leaving the bedroom.

While the woman sleeps, Wanda makes dinner for the two of them. As she cooked, every thought that crossed her mind revolved around Y/n. She didn't know which course of action to take to help the girl. She had to do something to get the girl out of this hole.

When dinner was nearly finished, she went to try to wake the hero up. She was surprised to see Y/n awake with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

She almost looked the same as when Wanda first met her. Except now there was more definition to her muscles, a straighter posture to her back, and a somber presence surrounding her.

Wanda took a seat next to her," A lot of people have this perception that being a hero is the one of the greatest things anyone can be. But I've always viewed it as the greatest sacrifice. There's so much of yourself that can be lost while trying to save others, especially when you're working alone. There's this weight on your shoulders, it's like you're carrying the world-"

" But you feel like you're the only one who knows that," Y/n's head rested in her hands.

" Something that nobody tells you until it's too late, is that you don't have to do this. You can give it up whenever you want, there's no one forcing you to pursue this."

Y/n looked at Wanda with glossy eyes," What else would I do, Wanda? This life is all I've known. I've never wanted to be anything, but this. I still want this, I just-"

" Can't do it on your own."

" I don't think I can anymore," Y/n began to tear up once more.

Wanda moved closer to Y/n. " No more tears, detka," Wanda wiped at the fallen streaks.

" Because you don't have to do it alone ever again. You have me, and I'm not going anywhere, alright. I can make some calls, and maybe we can get a team together."

Y/n looked at Wanda in disbelief," You'd do that for me?"

" Why are you always so surprised that there's someone looking out for you?" It was meant to be a joke on Wanda's part, but Y/n didn't see it that way.

" Because for a long time there wasn't."

Wanda was familiar with the look in Y/n's eyes. She'd seen it before somewhere. The way Y/n looked at her made her heart rate increase.

" Well, now and for the foreseeable future, you'll always have someone in your corner."

For a moment, there's no sound. The two just stare at each other. They both seem acutely aware of how close they are. Wanda's hand is a centimeter away from resting on top of Y/n's.

Unbeknownst to either of them, they are leaning into each other. They get closer and closer, and when they are too close, the oven goes off.

They jump apart and Wanda's hand moves to her lap, before she stands entirely," That would be dinner."

Y/n nods rapidly," I'm going to change into something more comfortable, and I'll be there in a minute."

Wanda hurriedly exited the room. Her eyebrows furrowed as she registered the pit at the bottom of her stomach. It was too soon for this in her head. She still wasn't completely over losing the love of her life. Yet she had these complicated feelings surfacing for Y/n.

The girl who had saved her life. Who brought her into her home with no questions asked or any favors needed. The girl who had been the strongest member of The Avengers. The one who never gave up on her cause.

Wanda wasn't ready, but her feelings didn't seem to care about that.

Y/n was in her room with similar thoughts swarming in her head. She had finally figured it out once she got a good look at the former hero. Y/n was falling in love, and she hadn't even noticed. Wanda brought comfort to her in situations that she never knew warranted such care.

There was nothing she could do about it. Though she wanted to stop herself from having romantic feelings towards Wanda, she was already in too deep.

" Fuck," she muttered, as she finally got out the bed and made her way to the kitchen.

Dinner between the two was uncharacteristically silent. Once they were done, they parted ways.

Y/n couldn't go back to sleep after dinner. She blamed it on the nap, but that wasn't it. She was thinking about Wanda; about how close they were to kissing.

She wondered what it would've felt like. If Wanda's lips were as soft as they looked. If they tasted sweet like her chapstick. Would things have escalated if they did kiss? Did wanting to kiss Wanda make her a bad friend?

It was pointless to stay in bed. Y/n decided she was going back to the kitchen for a drink. However, as she opened her bedroom door, Wanda was standing outside of it.

She stared at Y/n, an uncertain twinkle in her eyes. A nervous jitter about her body.

" Your thoughts are loud tonight."

The color drains from Y/n's face almost instantly, and she wishes that she could close the door more now than ever.

" Oh," was all the hero could muster up. Her eyes were trained on the floor, scared to look at Wanda

" I am so scared that if I kiss you, the universal will rip you away from me."

That causes Y/n to meet the redhead's eyes," Wanda-"

" Y/n, the things that I love- the people that I love, all end up being taken away from me. And I don't know if I can handle that happening again."

Y/n searches for the right words, but she doesn't know if she has them," I'm scared too. I'm scared that if I kiss you, it won't mean anything. I'm scared that I can't heal your broken heart. I'm scared that I wouldn't ever be enough for you because I'm not him."

The tone is somber as they stare at each other. Both having this aching want for each other. Both of them, scared of falling into their desires.

" You aren't Vision." She took a small pause. " But I would never ask you to be him. Y/n, you've already helped me heal so much and you don't even know it. You are more than for me. In fact, I think it might even be too good for me. If we kissed, it would mean everything to me."

Y/n wanted to say something. She wanted to speak from the heart, but she was coming up empty. The only thing she could think to do was press her lips to Wanda's.

The redhead's arms locked around Y/n's neck. While the hero's hands rested lightly on the dips of Wanda's hips.

For Y/n it was like she was breathing for the first time; effortless. For Wanda, it was like being brought back to life.

Wanda's lips were soft, and they were sweet like her chapstick, just like Y/n thought they would be.

" I could do that forever," Y/n chuckles against Wanda's lips.

The red shoves the hero's shoulder lightly," You're cheesy."

" I think you meant to say charming."

Wanda pecks Y/n's lips again," No, I definitely meant cheesy."

Y/n squeezes Wanda's hips," Lay with me?"

" I'd love nothing more."

The future for the pair looked dark and uncertain at one point. They each had lost so much that they were scared to claim anything as special ever again. Ultimately, they had nothing to worry about. As they had each other as constant beacons of light in their futures.

[brandnewhuman]

BEHOLD THE MALEWIFE

Again

♡ part 2 of random hc ♡

☆ starring ☆

König aka my beloved giant unfairly underrated and overlooked

Tw: mature language, mentions of anxiety, tiny bit of angst like you have to squint really hard

A/N: first i have to thank @bloodlst for giving me so many ideas and for dealing with me and my endless rants about this absolutely scrunkly babe. I SHOULD BE DOING REQUESTS AND YET HERE I AM WRITING FOR A MAN I'VE KNOWN FOR NO MORE THAN A WEEK OR SO. Media is ruining my chances at a normal relationship fr ANYWAY ENJOY

Listen this fucker is the definition of disney Prince when he gets comfortable enough around you

Everytime he talks about his s/o instead of saying you're his he says that he's yours

He feels like it's not as intimate and accurate as he really feels around you to say that you're his

And BTW he brags about you and your public displays of affection to everyone and anyone

Bro has not an ounce of embarrassment in showing he loves you and you love him

He's so charming and smooth but with that sprinkle of awkwardness that makes him ridiculously adorable

He is quite literally a gentleman and worships the ground you walk

In general he's very respectful and lovely with everyone

That's why he tends to like make people crush on him

Which he totally doesn't notice like ever, this man can and will think they're just being overly nice out of pity

He is literally so good at dancing, like it's almost annoying

One could think that him being so tall would make him really stiff and awkward when dancing but he's not

He's as graceful and elegant as ever

Is the only time he gets confident and shows off a little bit his physical appearance

He definitely prefers more elegant dances like waltz and tango ecc

JUST IMAGINE, JUST IMAGINE WHAT DANCE THE TANGO WITH KÖNIG WOULD DO TO YOU.

He has a really hard time at being funny cause he always worries that maybe his jokes are not obvious enough or that he's just straight up not funny

Like he has a shit ton of puns and jokes in his head but says none of them cause he doesn't really knows if people will get it and it's scared of coming off as weird

Most of the jokes are dirty jokes BTW, this man is an absolute child and is making deez nuts jokes left to right inside the confines of his really strange mind

Has really large hands, like not quite big but really long fingers and they're slightly crooked AND EVERYONE WHO HAS LONG FINGERS CAN CONFIRM YOUR FINGIES GET CROOKED

ALSO ALSO when he buys a new phone he doesn't even cares about it being good or not

BRO BUYS THE BIGGEST FUCKING PHONE EVER. HE HATES SMALL PHONES WITH ALL HIS SOUL

He has premature grey hairs. Like he has starting to get them when he was really young

Which ends up in him always having to dye his hair

He loves to go to get groceries

Like he actively gets excited about new products or new things to buy and overall he just enjoys how relaxing and calming is to go to the supermarket

I feel like he's one of those people who are really good at card games like poker ecc

He either ends up broke af cause everyone is merciless with him or he's unbelievably lucky and ends up winning every hand but doesn't takes the money cause he feels bad

It really depends on the day

With board games tho he's definitely a sore loser

Like have you seen how pissy and sarcastic he gets in the game sometimes? You can not tell me this man doesn't hates losing at monopoly

Me and my fellow könig simp @bloodlst have come to the conclusion that he has an involuntary resting bitch face

The fact is that as I said before he clenched his jaw almost always due to anxiety which makes him look like really scary but insanely hot

The moment you make him smile tho it's like you're witnessing some sort of shapeshift witchery

HE HAS THE KINDEST SMILE EVER

He has gone through the most traumatising injuries ever but never seems to notice (?)

Like he has big ass scars in his body and when someone asks about them he tells the story all chill as if he's not talking about him getting fucked up in every possible way

and he like never realises how serious his injuries are in the eyes of everyone else so he's always so confuse as why everyone looks so concern

He chooses his words wisely cause he values the meaning of certain words and doesn't likes to use them lightly

Like he tries not to tell his s/o I love you too lightly or too much cause he wants the phrase to always feels as special as it is for him and not something you said just because

And about that when he's arguing with someone he never says anything he does not mean

That means he will say 100% the truth even if it hurts

That doesn't mean that if he realises he's wrong he won't apologise

He will and will genuinely own his mistakes and take responsibility without using excuses

Like I said before könig is not one who gets angry easily

He has unwavering patience and deals with things very rationally

Like he is used to people treating him as if he was dumb, bullying him and just overall making him feel like bad about his anxiety or himself so it's not surprising he can handle people bring arses very well

He gets upset but always hides it really well

When he does gets mad tho he is going to make you cry

Any filter or shyness goes away and he just snaps and gets really mean really fast

Mean because although he's being honest, he's particularly brutal about it and says things as harsh as possible

But like I said is really hard for him to get that angry

The most that one can do to him is force him to politely excuse himself to go somewhere else and cry it out

He's a really sensitive person and most often than not he just gets sad, he won't stay sad for long but when he does he feels like absolute shit

The things that make him go absolutely apeshit is mostly when people mistreat his loved ones or when people take advantage of someone weaker than them like they used to do with him

When he was younger he used to have a lot of anger issues

He used to feel frustrated all the time with how unfair everyone was with him because of his anxiety

Never got into physical fights but would end up snapping and saying really hurtful things to people he loved

That's why now he tries to be careful with words

He's very proud of the person he has become in some way

He has come a long way and now he's a healthier person than he used to be

He forgives but never forgets even tho he's not the type of person to use past mistakes against someone

He just keeps in mind the thing that had happened and if he doesn't sees any change then he just acts consequently

Hates mint flavour beverages or ice cream and can't understand why people enjoy it so much

I don't know why but I feel like he grow up with his grandparents

He absolutely loved his grandma and used to call her almost everyday

When he buys clothes he doesn't really care about the brand ecc he likes to buys what makes him feel confident or good

Not even what others might like or stuff like that nono

He just buys whatever his funky brain finds pretty

And surprisingly it leads to him having a really good style

[kheta]

Things I need in a Reverse Robins AU

-I don’t care what the order is but please let Duke and Jarro be adopted before Damian is taken in! I need Damian to be jealous of an alien starfish, my bones require it 😭

-Duke ans Damian make Jason and Dick’s lives so difficult… not as antagonist and purely because they snuck out and caused so much havock that Bruce now has a sixth sense for when his kids want to act up. They cannot even attempt stealth because Duke and Damian did it better.

-I want Duke and Damian to be those kid brothers that never got along. They used to regularly ‘spar’ (fist fight) but Dick, Cass and Jason don’t believe it because they get along so well now? Tim and Steph are obviously lying.

-A grown Dick Grayson being so mad because he went his whole life wanting to be taller than just one big brother, one! And he never gets it 🥰 (Him and Tim are the same height. He hates it w a passion) Technically he is taller than Jarro. But so is Ace and Tidus, that accounts for literally nothing.

-In contrasts to his big brother’s stealth and sneaking out shennanigans, Tim just straight up lies to Bruce when he wants to take off with YJ, vaguely saying their plans (baseball, trip to some histprical landmark, chilling on Bart’s new ride) So while Bruce blames Duke and Dami for his greys, he says that Tim is the only reason he isn’t fully grey because he’s so responsible and considerate and always tells Bruce everything. (Tim tells Bruce exactly three things, two are half-truths and one is the boldest lie in town 😇 Bruce is nonethewiser.)

-Running off of that, I want Tim to be the sneaky middle child always in chaos, but I want Dami to know this and point it out to Bruce and gst shut down (like Candace Flynn levels of bad)

-Dick is spoilt by his many older siblings. He knows and takes advantage. I’m talking like 18yo Dick Grayson showing up at 22yo Jason’s place when Jason is at College and Jason returns home to find his little brother wearing his robe, eating hia cereal and asking if he can borrow Jay’s car because Bruce is hiding his keys until Dick actually gets a drivers license, which he doesn’t need because he hardly ever drives anyway 🙄😒 Jason tells him to fuck off, kicks him for not throwing thw empty cereal box away and asks where tf he thinks he’s off to anyway??????

-I want Cass to be a bratty younger sister, but only to Jason. She’s happy to hangout and cherishes her time with all her brothers, but she terrorises Jason. Purposefully is quieter when walking near him to frighten him, steals every comfy, bright hoodie he owns, wiggles into his bed and leaves her stuff for him to pick up, clean. She happily helps with chores until Jason asks and suddenly, she did not hear him, she was ‘busy, calm down grumpy.’ I want her looking at his school work and making faces at him if he tries to help her. I want her to want nothing more than to bite Jason, but also have him be her secret favourite brother. I need them to be best friends but the sort who will sell each other out for a single corn chip.

-Dick convinces Damian to help him steal an elephant. If Damian weren’t so weak for his baby brother he’d think about how even tge manor is not large enough to comfortably house an elephant. Duke isn’t completely sure it’s a good idea, but he trusts his brother’s to be smart enough to think this through ☺️ (they have not and will not think the logistics of owning an elephant through) Tim is fully aware this is a bad plan, he’s just even worse at saying no to Dick 💀 Steph is so mad that she has to be the voice of reason among these idiots 😒

-Tim dropping out of High-school actually leads to a huge fight lol. Bc Duke and Damian have Masters and Jason is looking into Ivy Leagues and Cass adores you Tim you need to be a role model 😠 Tim moves to San Francisco and doesn’t talk to Bruce for months after that fight. He still regularly contacts his siblings though.

-Personally don’t love Jason dying in Reverse Robin AU’s, but you know if Joker killed him at 15 he’d be dead in two weeks tops. Oh you want to kill the baby brother of a trqined assassin and Tim, one bad hour away from villany, Drake-Wayne? You think Duke would stop them? Dick? You think wrong. Dick might even try to jump ahead of the line. Cass is perfectly happy to shut her eyes and pretend she cannot see her brothers planning 🫢 The Joker would die a slow and painful death. Steph and Duje would run Batman distraction. (Bruce actually has a support network and two kids younger than Jason who are grieving. He’d need to be a parent and help them with their grief. He’ll probably be shit at it, but he’d still need to try.)

-When Steph starts college she occasionally visits the manor, liberally fills her bag with spare socks, new towels and non-perishables. Alfred doesn’t mind. Bruce does, but only because he’s more than willing to buy it for her and she will kick him if he even glances at any of his credit cards or bank accounts while she is near.

- Barbara probably has a crush on Steph and Tim. Like not a serious, I want a romantic relationship crush. But like ‘Steph is so strong and pretty and she’s so smart Dick, she wants to be a Doctor that’s so cool!’ And Tim is that weird crush you can’t describe. Like Matthew Gray-Gubler. He looks sorta like a raccon and an addict, but he’s weirdly handsome and can work a computer like no one else, ‘isn’t he so smart Dick?’ Dick doesn’t know whether to be jealous or to laugh at her because. Like. Really??? That’s who you think is cute from all my amazing big brothers ans sisters?

-Dick, as youngest brother, probably has the most eclectic music taste. He listens to classical, trap music, K-Pop, scremo, RnB, showtunes. Just all genres. He doesn’t love all genres, bit he k ows enough to have a super weird road trip playlist.

-Dick also always has to deal with his friends, civvie and otherwise, having crushes on his siblings.

-Jarro barely spends holidays with the family, but he gets presents put aside for him and is the most patient, most fun big brother of the batfam. Damian still hates him, but will begrudgingly buy him gifts and invite him to family events because unfortunately, Jarro is his sibling. -Because he's never around, Jarro is the favourite older sibling, with Jason, Cass and Dick always making him projects from school. Duke, Dami and Tim see Jarro more, since they love going to see the JL or going to space and don't care that Bruce disapproves. They will either lie to Bruce or sneak out or just leave the manor 'Because I am a grown ass adult B, you can't ground me.' Steph does not like space or the JL half as much and is more busy studying/working than the other three losers. (affectionate)

-Gotham villains are in shock when, after having highly predictable vigilantes who just come in through the front/back door (Duke and Damian) they are faced with vigilantes who will in fact bazooka an entry way open (Jason and Cass)

[zeestarfishalien]

Oops, John Constantine Found Family

[Day 1 dpxdc week 2023; John Constantine // Found Family // Oops]

• John Constantine/Box Ghost/Lunch Lady

John curses the Infinite King the first time he’s asked out to dinner.

It’s ridiculous, the parents of the little ghost child are loud and obnoxious and…definitely not endearing in the slightest. He’s sure he’ll be sick of the word “beware” before the end of the night.

But it is and he’s not.

He agrees to another dinner, more to prove to himself that this would never come anywhere close to working. He doesn’t get nice things and these two are just so…ridiculous and it’s so different from how his entire life has been, one nitty-gritty moment after the next; dooming his soul for power and favors.

But they aren’t turned off by his life or his rude demeanor. They like him and they show it. Against all odds, they just work.

And to think it all started with the end of the world…

~•~

John hates when he’s the last call, the hail mary pass, for the end of the world. Most of the better options for solving problems take time to put together, which is something few on the Justice League seem to understand and even fewer (read: None) seem to remember when a big threat comes about.

Since it’s potentially the end of the world, what’s one more time selling his soul going to hurt?

Possibly a lot this time. The King of Restless Dead holds sway over those that fall in the in between. They are historically stronger than most demons and spirits and on par with most deities. And since it is a title one by conquest most of the time the one to take over the throne is more powerful than the previous holders.

Now John really isn’t all that keen on joining the King’s legions but like he’s mentioned previously, end of the world and all that.

It’s a fitting enough end for him, he thinks and he hopes that his planned contract doesn’t have any loopholes for the King to take advantage of. Loosing the King of Restless Dead, King of the Infinite, King of the space between worlds, upon Earth for them to wreck havoc would probably cause Batman to revive John just so he can kill him again.

So it’s with a heavy heart and skyrocketing blood pressure that John starts chanting the words to bring the King of Ghosts to Earth, this Earth here and now. He’s got to be specific. Every single word matters…

…

John doesn’t know what he was expecting. A terror of the night? A horrific figure or possibly some sort of Eldritch entity that nearly melts his brain with its very presence?

Not a teenager that’s for fucking certain.

He’s not…he’s not certain what exactly he’s seeing as a funky little girl with blue skin and pigtails hikes herself up to peek over the teen’s shoulder.

He opens his mouth, probably to spit out some snarky comment or another but something in the teen’s eyes stops him. Then the overwhelming power hits him with the full force of a speeding freight train.

His lungs are too tight, too full. He can’t breathe, he can’t even twitch a bloody muscle under those glowing toxic waste eyes. The teen tilts his head, assessing John, weighing his tattered and bloody soul.

“What do you want, Laughing Magician?”

And that’s a fucking title. The King has his fucking title in hand with just a glance at him. The teen is all seriousness despite the little girl floating up to rest her upper body on his head like being The King just means he’s a glorified babysitter. She’s unaffected by the roiling waves of power washing off of him and crashing into John repeatedly.

He swallows and chokes on it because his throat is suddenly too dry. He coughs a few times before sinking into a bow.

“Oh King of Restless Dead and all those trapped in between death and life, I came seeking your aid to save this world and its inhabitants.” He doesn’t dare look up no matter how crawly his skin feels or how the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Ohhhh. Oh yeah, I was keeping an eye on that but then Boxy asked me to babysit the tyke here. It’s that bad already?”

John has to fight every cell in his body not to look up at the King and give him a taste of the incredulous look on his face.

“We’ve lost several heroes already and countless civilians. Superman is stuck in recovery after an attack, he can’t be out there. Wonder Woman has a broken leg and Batman is no-“

“Okay, okay I get it.” He interrupts, “It’s bad. I’m on it. I just need one thing in return.”

“My soul?”

“Ewww no.” John finally does look up at that just to catch the genuine disguston the teen’s face. “I need you to watch little Boxy junior here while I take care of this. She’s too young for the battlefield.”

“But I’m not qualified to take ca-“

“Thanks!” The King plops the little ghost girl on John and she grabs onto him while he’s too shocked to respond. It’s a good thing she’s a ghost and can fly since it takes him entirely too long to wrap his arms securely around her.

She’s studying him furiously and seems to find him suitable since she eventually grins and introduces herself.

“I’m Box Lunch. Who are you?”

“John,” he answers and that’s all he planned to give her but she stared him down with her beady little red eyes, waiting. “John Constantine and as His Majesty said, I’m also sometimes called the Laughing Magician.”

“Ohhh, so you have lots of names like Danny does.”

“Danny?”

She sends him a flat look.

“You’re kinda slow aren’t you.” When he doesn’t respond she lets out a big sigh, something she definitely doesn’t actually need. “You call him King and use one of his titles but you don’t know who he is?”

Now that’s an answer. And an alarming one at that. Just how high in the ghostly courts are her parents that she can casually call the King by name?

“I uh…” he fumbles a moment for words. “News and info about your world doesn’t cross the veil to here very well.”

“Oh…” She says it like she didn’t realize that. “Oh yeah, that’s Danny’s world. I’ve never actually been to a living realm that wasn’t Danny’s.”

“Not even when you were alive? Or were you from His Majesty’s world?”

She levels that unimpressed look at him again before sighing the worlds biggest sigh. Highly entertaining coming from someone so young and so small.

“Come sit with me.” She floats to the floor and snags his hand to drag him down too. “I will teach you Silly Magician.”

He follows, not sure how to tell her no thanks without upsetting her, so he goes along with it.

~•~

By the time that The King in all his teenager glory popped back in, John and Box Lunch were snuggled into a nearby couch with John reading to her from a spell book (it’s the only thing he had on hand and he made sure to only read the kid safe parts to her).

And the rest is, as they say, history.

More accurately the continuation of John’s very very strange life but details, details.

[formereldestdaughter]

ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

[kaylinlmfao]

Okay so you know the Dark!Ethan Landry x Fem!reader where he finds out she pregnant, can you do a part to if it?

the abortion (2/3)

type of piece(s): imagine, oneshot, drabble, series

type(s) of writing: smut, angst, fluff, dark, suggestive

warning(s): smut, rough angry smut, sub space, orgasm denial/control, overstimulation, breeding, pregnancy, ownership kink, dom ethan being a cocky tease, choking, slapping, bondage, just really dirty and nasty in general, RAPE/NON CON, degradation, ethan is super experienced like a fuckboy

pairing(s): dom!ghostface!dark!toxic!ethan landry x sub!shy!reader

A/N: thank you guys so much for all the requests that have been coming in! please, keep em coming. any idea you have, no matter how dark it is, I'll write it. but just know, I'm mainly into writing for ethan (or tara and sam) and the sturniolo triplets so if you request someone or something not those people, it might take me a little bit longer to get to them but they will be written. it'll just take a bit longer. but keep the requests coming, I love them! reblogs are much appreciated but please don't repost my original work on other platforms without giving credit! I might do another part to this but idk yet. enjoy!

I bang and pound on his back as i scream for him to put me down. "ethan! put me down right now! I don't want to "try again" you idiot! I didn't want a baby in the first place! we're only teenagers. you fucking-" he cuts off my screams by slamming me on the bed, hand gripping your throat. "fucking what, y/n? hm?" my vision was hazy as I stared into his dark eyes. "bitch" I say, spitting in his face and then starting to kick and fight him to get him off of me. I felt his leg buckle as I kicked his kneecap and I took the opportunity to roll off the bed and run to the door. as I were running, he grabbed my ankle, pulling hard causing me to fall. I let out a cry of pain and he stood and walked over to me.

"sweetheart, I want a baby so we can be together forever. what don't you understand?" "I understand that you are a demented motherfucker who deserves nothing in life." "you're making this much more difficult than it needs to be, princess. I was gonna fuck you slow and romantic on the nice soft mattress, but you pissed me off. so now you get a rough hard fuck on the floor. we could've prevented all of this if you would just listen to me" he told me, looking at me in a way that made me almost forget what he was gonna fuck me for.

i back away as he pulled his belt off with one hand, knowing what was coming. "give me your wrists now, y/n" "no! fuck you!" i shout. "what did I say? you're just making me angrier." he grabs both my wrists in one veiny ring clad hand and wraps the belt in sort of a handcuffs thing. "get off of me ethan please. we can't raise a child." he ignores me as he begins to pull my shorts off. I whimper when I see him pull a knife out of his pocket. "ethan please" "you begging just makes me wanna stuff you with my cum even more sweetheart" i hold back a moan at his words as he cuts my shirt, bra, and panties off, laughing at the goosebumps that cover my skin at his touch.

he immediately takes one of my nipples into his mouth and starts roughly sucking and biting it. I barely hold back a moan as he travels down toward my navel and then past, to where I need him most. he chuckles lowly when he sees how wet i am. "oh princess. you're soaked. do you need me that bad? you're awful wet for someone who doesn't want this." "I don't want you ethan" "so you don't want me to do this?" he asks. I gasp as his lips meet my clit and my eyes nearly roll back into my skull as I feel a rush of pleasure.

"or this?" my clit is sucked into his mouth and I make a pornographic sound I've never heard before. "how about this, mhm?" I shake uncontrollably as he sucks hard on my clit, flicking his tongue rapidly back and forth as I get closer to the edge. he plunges his tongue deep into my pussy, in and out so fast that I can't see. right as I'm about to fall over the edge, he pulls his tongue out and backs away. I let out a loud sob as tears slip down my cheeks from being so close to my orgasm and then getting it snatched away. "oh poor baby. don't worry, I'm gonna fuck you. I'll fill my cock in you so deep you won't be able to breathe. you won't be able to do anything but scream and take what I give you. and you'll love it."

"please! please!" he tears his shirt off and I stare at his muscular upper body while he takes his pants off. I see his dick flap up and hit his stomach. I forgot how big and wide he was. at the sight of his cock and the way my pussy was throbbing so hard I almost was crying, every rational thought flew straight out of my head and all I could think of was getting his dick inside of me. "I fucking-" i scream in pleasure as ethan pushes his entire length into my pussy in one thrust. he's pounding into me so fast and I have no time to adjust, it burns. but I fucking love it.

ethan lifts my legs over his shoulders and now the deeper angle he is at he's hitting my g-spot with every thrust. my breaths keep getting caught in my throat. "ethan. please. slow. down." I make out. "oh no, I'm keeping my promise. fucking you so hard you can't breathe and then filling you up so deep with my cum that your little tummy is bloated." I scream as I cum hard from his harsh thrusts and dirty words as he pinches and slaps my tits. he flips me over onto my stomach and re-enters me so quickly I didn't even have a chance to take a breath before he's pounding into me again, his tip kissing my cervix. he's slapping and gripping my ass hard. "please!" I babble, waving my hands around, needing something to hold onto to keep me from passing out. my back is arching so far as he pulls me up so my back is against his chest.

I'm about to cum again when I feel his hand wrap around my throat as he squeezes hard, leaving me with no oxegen as I cum hard again, creaming and clenching around his dick. he flips me back over onto my back again and continues thrusting. I'm sobbing, tears and mascara running down my face as I moan and babble incoherently from the lack of oxegen and the overstimulation. "who's the bitch? any other insults? I can't hear you. use your words princess" he knows you can't. he knows damn well that there isn't a thought in your head except for him.

he's pressing hard on my stomach which is exactly where I feel him. my body tightens and I come again. but this time, I can't stop cumming. and he won't stop thrusting. he needs to stop because I can't breathe and I'm gonna have a heart attack. "please slow" "you can give one more" little does he know I'm still cumming from the last one. he finally slows his thrusts, just a little bit, but enough that I have a second to breathe and stop creaming his dick.

but then he starts pounding harder than he has this entire time. I'm on my back with my arms above my head, my fists clenching and unclenching trying to find something to hold onto as they're still tied. he pinches my clit one more time hard as I squirt around his dick. he thrusts a few more times before he let's out a groan and fills up my tummy with his cum. I take deep breaths as he pulls out of me, carefully making sure all his cum stays inside my fluttering and abused cunt, which is still clenching around nothing.

I lay there as he stares at me with dark proud eyes. my hair is tangled and stuck to my forehead from the sweat. my lips are swollen and my eyes are bright red from crying. my cheeks are red and tear and mascara streaks are running down them. my tits and neck are red and purple from his abuse and the hickeys. my chest is heaving and my thighs are shaking. I can't even imagine how my ass and thighs look from the way he was spanking me and gripping me. but he doesn't care. he just looks at me with possessive eyes as he goes to run a bath and put his clothes on. he comes out of the bathroom, fully clothed as he unties my wrists. ethan helps me stand and climb into the bathtub before gripping my chin and turning my face to look at his.

"if you aren't pregnant, its ok. we'll have sex until you are. but if you are pregnant and you abort my child again, it will be worse than this. do you understand me, princess?" I nod my head slowly, maintaining eye contact. "good girl" he turns and leaves my dorm, leaving me bruised and exhausted in the bathtub with a thousand thoughts running through my head. the first being, where can I get another abortion pill? I'll be gone before he can do anything to me, but I will not have a child with ethan landry.

1.5k words (I went way overboard)

@onedayatatime6 @ilovechickenwings @tommysaxes @layla29sworld @misscaller06

I hope you guys liked it! I went a little overboard I think and I don't really love it but this is how most of my smut will be so I'm sorry if it was too much for y'all! keep those request coming please! expect more fics with ethan and the sturniolo's (mostly dark smut) coming tonight! i am also working on a chris sturniolo ghostface fic (smut), matt sturniolo ghostface (smut), and one with all three of them (suggestive). comment on this post if you want to be apart of my tagslist for my future fics! thanks! ;) -kaylin