#i want a child that is sticky and/or crying only SOME OF the time. babies and toddlers are sticky and/or crying way too often for me.

[yardsards]

periodically seized by the desire to Be A Dad despite barely being able to take care of myself and my cat and also being exhausted by the company of adult humans who don't need the attention that children do

[yawnderu]

cr: @ave661

Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.

Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.

It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.

Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.

Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.

“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.

“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.

“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.

The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.

“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.

“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.

It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.

“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.

To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.

You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.

She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.

“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.

“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.

“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.

“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.

“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.

“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.

Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Dad!Ghost Masterlist

[ninapi]

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Daddy Issues ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Toji, now being a single father has no idea how to raise a child on his own. His beautiful younger neighbor hears the baby crying every night, coming to his aid in more than one way.

Word count: 4365

Note: Just had the need to mention that there is no smut in this story before you start reading. lol.

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Fushiguro Toji was anything in this world but a loving and understanding parent.

Having to deal with a year-old baby on his own wasn’t his idea of fun and didn’t even know where to start.

When his wife was still alive, she was the one in charge of the kid, he barely knew how to change his diaper, and even that didn’t look to be just right. But he had no one to depend on, to ask for help, all his ‘friends’ were in the same business as he was and the women lurking around him at the bar don’t seem like good mother material.

Every night looked the same for him, the walls of his cramped tiny apartment constantly shaking with the loud wails of his infant child, he had no idea why the baby was crying, nor how to make him stop. His headaches turned into migraines and the little patience he had within him evaporated.

“Megumi, can you please, please, shut up? I’m begging you, I’ve never begged anyone in this life anything, please just sleep….” his voice came out louder than he anticipated, making you jump from your bed.

You lived next door and were having a hard time trying to sleep as well, the paper-thin walls that separated you from the distressed baby not doing much to stop the sound from coming.

You’ve worried for him for months now, you were aware the mother had passed, yet you’ve only seen your neighbor twice after that, and in all truth, he looked like someone who wasn’t interested in getting to know the people in the building and share a cup of tea or two.

But that was it, you’ve had enough.

Working wasn’t exactly easy when you’ve had only a couple of hours to sleep, and the poor baby, why was he always crying?

Initially you thought he was alone even, until this moment when you heard his father yell at him.

You understand his frustration really, but you should never talk like that to a baby. As if on cue, the baby just started crying louder, scared by his dad’s anger display.

Tying a robe around your body, you walked outside your apartment, knocking on the foreign door beside your own.

Toji’s face when he saw you on the other side wasn’t one of anger, was more one of despair. He had blackish bags under his eyes, his cheeks were hollow, his head looked like a bird had nested on it and his shirt was full of what looked like baby vomit.

Not the prettiest sight.

“What do you want?”

“Excuse me sir, I’m your neighbor, (Y/N). Seemed to me like your child was having some troubles to sleep…I’m a certified pre-school teacher, so I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help…” the soft smile on your face was almost blinding, were you an angel sent by the heavens to rescue him from his demise? Did he even believe in angels? Because now, he certainly does.

Without uttering a single word, he moved to the side, leaving space for you to go into his apartment, immediately collapsing on the couch right after.

The baby was in his crib, his throat raw from screaming. His little onesie matched his dad’s shirt soiled with old milky vomit; his diaper as full and heavy as it could be.

No wonder he was crying like this.

“I will be using your bathroom. Where do you keep his clothing?” he pointed to a cardboard box laying next to his crib, earning a scowl from you. You were honestly in no position to judge him, he lost his wife not long ago and his job was of a dubious nature, but this were no conditions for a child to grow up into.

Grabbing the only clean looking onesie you could find, you took the baby into the bathroom and gave him a very much refreshing bath, his hair was all sticky and his nails way too long. You took care of that as well and got him into his clean pj’s in record time. Quickly moving to get some milk warmed up and in his zippy cup all before Toji could even realize what was going on.

But one thing was clear for him.

Megumi wasn’t crying anymore.

In fact, he just heard him giggle, which made him look up at you. He was in your arms, and you kept on bouncing him while he drank some warm delicious goodness, his little cheek nuzzling your own, sleep clad in his beautiful, rounded eyes.

You got there less than twenty minutes ago, and Megumi was now asleep.

How was this possible? He’s been trying for months, and he only sleeps when he passes out from crying too much…

You placed his little blanky over him, caressing his hair until you were sure he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, then headed over to his father, speaking in a quiet small voice, “There. He was too dirty, babies tend to be very picky with this sort of stuff, just make sure to change his diaper more often and change his clothing when dirty. Also, his onesies are too small for him now, you need to buy him larger clothing, it hurts his little legs, so I left the buttons open.” Toji was staring at you like you were some sort of goddess who came to tame his little beast, this was no easy fit, he was just as fierce as his dad…

“He’s a lovely well behaved baby boy, I’m sure he won’t give you many troubles.” that, however, made him scoff. “HA! He’s a little dirty beast, that’s what he is! All he does is scream and poop.” his loud outburst made Megumi cry once again, his father annoying you more than the poor tired child, “Tch, don’t be so loud!”

He was smirking your way instead of feeling offended, now you’d see what kind of a beast his child is. Or so he thought, because Megumi stopped crying once in your arms, his face pressed to your chest enjoying its softness and warmth, leaving Toji speechless with his mouth gaping.

“Such a good boy you are~” the child refused to leave the comfort of your chest, making you sit on the filthy couch that reeked of beer to wait for his slumber to come back.

“What do they teach in pre-school? Is it some sort of magic? He’s never acted this way, not even when his mother was alive.” his reply made you chuckle, petting the baby’s tiny back in the process. “Hmm…we teach them the days of the week, how to cut and practice writing, how to tend plants, how to color, things like that.” humoring him this far was more than what he is used to with other women, they usually just want him for cash and a fun lusty night, but they’ve never cared to talk like this with him, he was an intimidating man after all.

“Pfft and how does that make my son stop crying? Stop it, spill the beans, how did you do it?” he sat by your side, the sly smirk on his lips never leaving his rough, handsome face.

“I just got him cleaned up and fed, that’s all.” the sound of your voice made the boy snuggle deeper into your bosom, drooling all over the patch of skin that was in view.

Toji’s eyes were on his every move, a sudden wave of understanding hitting him hard, “I see…he’s definitely my son…” his loud cackles made Megumi stir and got you to frown once more. This time though, you didn’t need to scold him, he got it just by looking at your angered face. “Sorry, sorry…he just looked so comfy, of course anybody would sleep just fine there.” his jokes made you blush, quite an unexpected thing in such situation.

He was a handsome man, there was no human out there that would dare to argue that. Yet, he was definitely older and had some serious cleanliness issues, not entirely your type but aggravating nonetheless.

“Would you consider being his nanny? I could pay you double what you make in that pre-school of yours…” tempting offer, but you loved your job and weren’t looking for a new one.

“My son is clearly in love with you, I don’t think he’d accept anyone else…and you live next door so you wouldn’t have to spend money by going to work.” One of his chubby, calloused fingers came a little to close to your chest startling you, though, his aim was to clean his child’s drool before it landed again on your silky skin, it was a heartwarming scene.

“I can’t leave my job, they need me. Though, I only work the morning shift, so I’m back by noon. I can help, at least until you get used to the single parenting thing.” you said all this while looking at his child with such tender eyes that he just couldn’t say no to your proposal, he works late mostly anyways, sounded like a good deal.

“I would appreciate that.” his demeanor had changed for the better since you shared the same couch, an understanding like no other found without the need for words.

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The next day your shift got cut short as the children had a previously scheduled trip to the zoo.

Some parents insisted on going as well so you gave them your space in the bus, using your time to clean the playroom, it was time to donate some toys and you had the perfect baby in mind for this.

You gathered a few plushies and age-appropriate books and placed them in your backpack just before leaving for the day.

Remembering the face of despair his dad had when you mentioned getting new clothing for him, you stopped by the store and got him a couple of onesies and other outfits that would actually fit him, you could just give him the receipt, that should be easier for him.

And it was, he had never felt so grateful towards someone in his entire life when he saw all the new things you had for his child.

He isn’t the best dad out there and he’s aware of that, he didn’t really care if he was being honest, he always planned to sell him to the Zenin’s anyways, but raising a child was a pain and he never expected it to be that complicated.

“Can you tell me where the cleaning supplies are, Fushiguro-san? I would like to clean the carpet and the couch, it isn’t good for Gumi to breathe in so much dust.” he nodded, going in circles in his own living room, he didn’t know where they were, if there were any. “Just wait here, I’ll go buy some. Is there anything else you need from the store?”

“Hm…there’s not many diapers left, also it would be nice to have a smaller spoon for him.” going over to find his wallet, he headed out of the door only acknowledging you slightly while you tended his son. It was an intimate conversation and it had him somehow flustered, the big’ol Fushiguro Toji, flushing over the sight of his child chewing on the side of your arm while you checked his fridge. It’s not like he didn’t find his ex-wife attractive, because he did, but she was very different from you, almost as much of a man as he was, you were soft, tender, kind, your round curves and soft features weren’t like the ones he finds in bars and clubs, he needed to get his shit together before he’d end up drooling on you as much as his son.

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It's been a few weeks since you and Toji officially met and it still amazes him how much his life has changed in such a short period of time.

For the best, mind you.

But the best change in it, he would agree for it to be how much he’s been sleeping lately. Megumi entered a new routine with you, one that makes him sleep always at the same time, without waking up much, meaning Toji also has been getting some very much needed rest.

Even if Toji knows his life has improved, Megumi is the one who’s been enjoying life like no other these days.

Since his dad is in charge of him in the morning, he decided is best to sleep and recharge energy, that way his dad can do his grown up things without much problem and he would get all the play time in the world once you’re back from work.

His diet has improved as well, you found out Toji was feeding him instant ramen and this alerted you beyond words and you made a priority getting him all the nutrients he’s been missing.

His clothes fits, he has new books and toys, clean sheets, in general life was good to him lately.

Though Toji was now expecting you to get tired of this, you did have a job, a tiring one at that and still had to do your own stuff, but you’ve been visiting him daily and staying until Megumi signed off for the night, you must be tired, he knows he would be for sure. And knowing this had him on edge, what would he do without you? Their life is so much better nowadays, is this why people get married? Because he totally gets it now.

He’s been thinking about it all day and now that he’s back from work, he would tell you to feel free to drop this whenever you wanted. True, he didn’t want you to go away any time soon, or ever…but having you in a tight leash without it being your responsibility would just end in you sick and tired of the situation, he wanted to give you options, comfort even.

But when he stepped inside his own apartment, the sight behind the door made his brain to stop working.

You were laying down on his couch, Megumi on top of your belly, slapping your cheeks lovingly while giggling, “MmmMa” he’s been trying since forever but learning new skills without help is almost impossible for a baby, having you around talking to him constantly and encouraging him to talk has been doing wonders for the child, he’s very smart after all.

“Did he just call you mama?” Toji was still by the door, one shoe still on, unable to move from his spot.

“Oh Toji-san! Welcome back, how was work? And honestly I’m not sure, I haven’t told him to call me mama so I don’t know where he got it from.” Your explanation made Toji uncomfortable, he does know where he got it from. For a lack of a better word, he’s been referring to you as such in front of his son, is just complicated to explain a baby that you weren’t his mother, nor sister, nor family even but a simple neighbor, because not even the term ‘friend’ would be accurate. Megumi would call him “Ppa” so it was easier to call you “Mama” for him to understand, and it seemed like it did work, a bit too well for his liking.

“Oh well, he’s a smart kid. He doesn’t remember his mother and you certainly act like one, he’s just a little confused. Sorry if that freaked you out…” rubbing the back of his head he hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he wished that was in fact a reality.

“It didn’t don’t worry. It is normal, for younger kids you know? They call their teachers mama too, it’s happened a few times to me already. Though Gumi is special to me, so I don’t mind it one bit. You though….I hope you know I’m not trying to replace your late wife in any way….” your rosy cheeks were a blessing from the gods, there was no prettier sight out there, he was sure of that. But how much he wishes you were trying to fill in the spot, would remain a secret for a bit longer.

“I know you’re not. But I wouldn’t mind it if you were.” shooting you a flirty wink, he was finally able to move away from the door, the spell you had him under breaking with the blushy display.

“Don’t say that, it would make her sad…” even if you were wiggling on the couch, flushed all the way to your ears, it was still a bit sad, knowing someone lost this wonderful child and handsome husband, you’d be devastated if you’d have to leave a family behind like she was forced to.

“I know you think I’m joking, but I know for sure it wouldn’t. She was….an interesting woman. I just know she would be happy knowing Megumi has someone to look after him and give him the life she knows I can’t give him…he’s so happy and healthy lately, it’s making me think things through…” your heart grew three sizes with his words. In all truth, you’ve been just as happy. Your life used to be boring and pretty empty, your work was the only thing keeping you sane back then, but now? Now you look forward to get on a train and get back home as soon as possible, to see the cute cuddly ball of fluff that was now napping on your chest, you missed him so much when you were working it was crazy, even seeing Toji who came in the package was exciting to you these days.

“Why can’t you though? I know at first when I met you, it would be difficult to picture you as a good dad…but lately…I see how things have changed. I don’t think you need me as much anymore.” there it was…he knew it was coming.

“I’ve managed to make it work only because of you. It’s weird but now I think about what I have to get from the store every day, how many diapers are left, know his favorite snack and the temperature I need to set his bath for, and now I even know which days I have to take out the trash…Megumi’s mother wouldn’t recognize me if she could see me now. And that’s a good thing.” his boisterous laugh made you smile in response. You hoped he still wanted you around, you’ve been just as anxious as he was, thinking the very same thing, what if he didn’t want you close anymore? What if he decides Megumi needed a proper sitter? What if he got himself a girlfriend and the woman didn’t want you visiting every day?

But being objective that was very unlikely, you even got a set of keys for his apartment last week, the keychain had your name engraved and all, just like Toji’s….it was quite clear he wanted you there. And so did the baby in your arms.

“Well, I don’t know her, but I am very much proud of your growth as a father, Toji-san. You just needed to get used to being a dad, I assume is not that easy…”

“It isn’t. But you look more like a mother than his actual one, so I doubt you’d have any troubles if you ever have a kid.” Big words coming from a man like him…he’s been acting strange the past week and it’s starting to worry him a little. His way of speaking has softened, his dirty jokes stopped, he still flirts with you but who wouldn’t when you look so pretty with his son in your arms, it’s impossible to control the beast to that extent, specially on days you came to his house wearing those tiny shorts of yours, he’s turning into a saint, a blue-balled one, and all because of you, he doesn’t want you to freak out and run away, so he’s been behaving as nicely as he can, very unlike his normal self, he’s used to take what he wants when he wants it, but you were that good.

“It’s just Gumi, he’s so adorable and so well behaved….I guess he makes the maternal side of me come out.” your cute giggles not only woke the baby up but lit up a fire in his father’s body. He wanted to hear you closer, suddenly he was envious of his own child and how he was able to lay on you and cuddle your boobs as if they were pillows, the definition of a good life…

“He was nothing like that until you came though…a demon child. I’m his father though, so I guess it makes sense.” giggling some more just for him, you got up to set the child down in his crib, Toji sitting on the couch hoping you’d follow his lead, which you did, sitting right beside him.

“Well if I tamed the demon child, I must try to tame the demon daddy too then.” You’ve never flirted back, he was almost sure you weren’t interested, this was new, and he was not stupid enough to let it go, scooting himself closer to your warmth to encourage you to continue. “I’m untamable, gorgeous, but you can certainly try…” you didn’t move away, coming even closer to him instead. He’s undeniably hot and he’s changed so much, you thought it’d be hell sharing the same space with this man, but was quite the opposite, his house was now clean enough, his fridge full with food, his son fitting in his clothing as he should and his snarky bite had died down as days went by. 

Flirting became the norm after that.

Toji never thought of getting another wife, he could get all the women he wanted without getting into a relationship but you changed the picture real quick.

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The day had come for the Zenin’s to meet Megumi. 

Toji had been thinking of selling his child to them basically since the day he was born. Even if he hated them, his kid would be worth way more money than he could count. It’s not like he needed the money for anything, or wanted anything really, yet he kept on betting in silly races as that was the only thing he had to look forward to; before you came to his life of course.

Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Not only would he not have an excuse to see you every day without Megumi, but he’s also been getting along way better with his son since your arrival.

At first being a parent was just a nuisance to him, but now it wasn’t as much and not only because he got to see you or because you made his life easier, but because he finally understands what his kid wants and has seen how it feels to have a woman around the house, how nice it is to live in a clean environment, to eat delicious home cooked meals every day, how nice it is to get greeted by the door after a long day at work and how nice it is to be welcomed by cute giggles and warm smiles.

Being a dad wasn’t so bad anymore, nor was it the concept of being a husband.

Refusing to meet the old man was a bold move on his part, he was sure he’d have to pay for that decision at some point, but he just couldn’t bare the thought of giving him and the life they had now away just for some money. He could just take a couple more jobs and make up for it,  even if one day Megumi would have to face them straight ahead, that day is still very far from now.

So instead of meeting the old dread, he went over by your school to pick you up and enjoy a nice stroll together on the way home.

The face you made when you saw him and the cute baby half asleep on his shoulders was one to remember.

Joy could be felt within a mile range. You weren’t expecting this, such a nice surprise. “Hello beautiful, got you some of that fancy coffee you like.”handing you the very much needed caffeinated treat, he smiled down at you, a smile like none you’ve seen in the past. He looked so good today, it was doing things to your insides. “Thanks Toji-san I appreciate it. But why are you here? Did something bad happen?”

“Nah, just taking the babe out for some sun…thought of picking up the other babe so she could join us, that’s all…” his confidence was almost intimidating but also very alluring, he was so sexy.

“That does sound fun…” but before you could step out of the school a younger teacher came out looking for you, you dropped your phone and hadn’t even noticed yet. “(Y/N)! Wait! Here, you left this in the class.” her eyes were glued to handsome piece of meat in front of her, annoying you to the point of getting in between the two with a scowl on your face. “Thank you, I didn’t notice. Now if you excuse us….” you leaned closer, taking Megumi off of Toji and into your arms, your free hand landing on Toji’s bicep, in an almost too intense possessive display. Toji on the other hand was thoroughly enjoying this, not only did he have two beautiful women “fighting” for him, but this was the confirmation he was looking for on your end to act upon his feelings.

Taking a hold of your tiny hand in his larger one, he just started walking on the opposite direction, completely ignoring the other girl and dragging his ray of sunshine back home for some quality time together.

Being a dad is complicated.

Being a single dad is even worse.

But thanks to it he found the most wonderful woman the world had to offer .

And yes, he did have some issues to work around still, like his awfully dangerous job and betting addiction, but for someone as broken and rough as him to get someone so soft and fantastic was worth any sort of sacrifice, for his babe-one and babe-two as he started calling you guys, a term that would soon enough be changed to ‘family’, he could do anything…

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Masterlist

[hockybish]

It's Just a Game

I Hughes!sister au I

"Come on Lola hit the ball!" Quinn encouraged his little sister, although they were on opposite teams.

The siblings were playing some sort of made up hockey inspired game in the basement. Jack and Lola were against Quinn and Luke. At the moment Jack and Lola were losing,

"Just hit it already!" Jack grumbled, she was taking too long in his opinion.

"You got dis Bah!" Luke cheered.

Lola lined up with the ball on the floor, just like her older brothers had been teaching her and swung at it with all she had. She must have given it a little too much oomph because she completely missed the ball and fell over.

"Oops. I sorry." She got up and sadly looked at the ball that hadn't moved an inch.

"Try again." Quinn smiled helping his little sister get set up again. He was going to give her one more shot before moving on with the game.

Lola tried again and once again missed the ball to which Luke swooped in and shot it into the net, scoring another goal from his team.

And that was the game. Luke and Quinn won by a large margin.

"It's not fair!" Jack grumbles, smashing his stick into the ground. Jack knew it was all Lola's fault because she's a baby and he had to do all the work.

"Sorry Jack. We won fair and square! Right Lu?" Quinn smiled at his younger siblings. Jack glared angrily, Luke shook his head, agreeing with Quinn, and Lola just looked at the floor she knew it was her fault, it was always her fault.

"But you stuck me with the baby! She can't even do anything!" Jack crossed his arms, stick still in hand.

"Hey, I'm three. I not a baby!" Lola frowned, protesting that she was old enough to play with the older boys.

"I want to play again, and I want Luke on my team!" Jack insisted, ignoring the little girl's response to being called a baby. He was only consumed with what he wanted, and maybe if he could get his way with having Luke on his team, he wouldn't lose like he did when he was forced to team up with Lola.

All Jack wanted to do was win once.

"We don't want to play anymore." Luke said this, with Quinn nodding in agreement this time. They didn't want to play with a sore loser.

"Come on!" "No!"

"Argh! Why do you have to be such a baby?" Jack yelled once again at his little sister, with tears now forming in her eyes.

What happened next was a bit of a blur for all parties involved. One sibling took a swing and the other sibling screamed.

Ellen had been making dinner in the kitchen when her ears picked up the sound of someone crying in the basement, most likely her youngest child.

She knew it was only going to be a matter of time before the sweet little girl would come running up to her and she would have to scold the boys. What she didn't expect was to find Luke running up to her instead.

"Mommy, Mommy!" The four-year-old was out of breath. The distance from the downstairs living room to the upstairs kitchen wasn't that far, but Luke was trying to hurry. There was an emergency. "Bah's hurt!"

"I can hear her crying. What happened?" Ellen was trying to keep her voice level and even. She wanted to know what happened so she could figure out how to fix the problem before going down there.

"Jack hit Lola with a stick! There's blood everywhere! Come on, Mommy!" Luke tugged on his mother's hand. 

"WHAT?!" She let her youngest son's hand slip from her grasp as she hurried down the steps. Sure enough, there was Quinn holding and trying to calm a crying Lola as best as he could while being covered in his sister's blood. And Jack, the little culprit, was nowhere to be seen.

"MOMMY!" Lola wailed, huge crocodile tears slipping down her cheeks, mixing with the sticky red sticky substance

"Shhh. It's okay, Lola. Lukey went to get Mommy. It's okay." Quinn repeated his words like a mantra, praying Luke would get back soon with his mom.

"Quinn, I've got it." Ellen took a hold of her baby girl. Quinn backed off, giving his mother free rein over the situation. Sweetie, what hurts? Lola, honey, let Mommy see." Through the tears Lola looked at her mother, showing off her busted fat lip and missing two front teeth.

"Oh, baby, it's not that bad." Ellen cooed, trying to calm the child. The use of the pet name baby sent Lola into another crying fit.

"Where's Jack?" The mother of four inquired, her eldest pointed in the direction of the couch, aka the spot all four Hughes children hide when they were in trouble.

Jack didn't dare move from his hiding spot. He was terrified of what was going to happen if he came out of hiding. He hit his little sister, he didn't mean too.

"Jack? Can you please come out now? It's going to be alright; everything is going to be alright. Lola's going to be okay." he had heard his mother call out for him.

"I I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry Lola. I was mad. I shouldn't have done it." He apologized as soon as he saw his sister. It took Lola a hot minute to forgive her brother, but she did and even gave him a hug,

"Thank you Jack. Please remember next time. It's just a game."

Age Guide: Quinn = 8, Jack = 6, Luke = 4, Lola = 3

[historianthesecond]

Hi, May I please request an oneshot of Nikolai Lantsov going all soft when he holds his and the female reader's newborn child for the first time, please?? Thank you so much!! 💕

Hello! I'm sorry this one took so long ;---; let's imagine I finished this one on Father's Day shall we

Also thanks to you for this idea Anon <33 it's just so cute! I just love to put babies with my blorbos in situations, and honestly, Nikolai is no exception 🙈🙈

The Little World

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem! Reader-------1.6K---SFW

Tags: Established Relationship| Mentions of childbirth and pregnancy but not in detail| Domestic Fluff|

At some point between your screams echoing in the chambers among a myriad of encouragements, Nikolai heard the sharp first cry of a baby.

His baby.

The one he'd been longing for so many years, waiting and wishing for you to enter his office one day with the physician's note that would confirm your pregnancy. The same note which drove the court out of their pressures of bringing a mistress to the palace in case the Queen could never bear his child.

Feeling as if someone was tugging at his heart to make it burst out his chest—and perhaps the tiny human was doing it after all—Nikolai peeked toward the feet of the bed where nurses, physicians, and Healers swarmed around the small being, quickly wrapped in the softest fabric he was able to find, a deep olive green with some decors in gold thread.

"It's a healthy boy, Your Majesty," he heard someone say, stuffing the baby's head with a knitted hat.

Nikolai looked down at his Queen, your pants moving some locks of hair sticky with sweat over your brow. He leaned closer, settling a reassuring kiss atop your hair, your hand still on his even though your unrelenting grip had made his fingers start to numb out a couple of hours ago.

"Did you hear that? A son! A healthy and adorable son," he whispered happily, a smile curving his lips. "You've done wonderfully, my love. Our son looks just as beautiful as you."

You smiled, observing the wriggling bundle lying on your chest. "Do you mean I look all wrinkly and flushed too?" you muttered, shaky fingers outlining the round cheeks of your baby.

"Only a little," he answered with a chuckle, his body half-sitting on the bed as he watched his son with tearful eyes, his hands made fists next to his thighs.

His mind was still processing that this baby was the one he told so many stories about ever since he got the notice about his upcoming fatherhood, the one he would kiss every morning and every night.

The one he both was desperate to see and yet, terrified. It had filled Nikolai with doubt and fear that kept him up at night as your third trimester passed by. The one about repeating his childhood story all over again, with this innocent creature. That he would become like his parents.

"Do you want to carry him?" you asked, your soft voice breaking him out of his rummaging.

Nikolai shook his head slightly, stopping as he looked at his son stirring slightly, as if he felt his rejection too, trying to call his attention. Your hand cupped his little body as you shushed at him. "I… I don't want to carry him wrong and hurt him. I think he's more comfortable on your chest, my sweet."

You tried to meet his gaze without success. "I think he would like to hear your heartbeat up close," you whispered to him, your free hand patting his. "He must miss it from when you curled up against my belly to sing him." Even when he wasn't seeing your smile, you hoped your words could express your trust just as clearly. "You could never hurt your child, Nikolai. Look at me."

Your hand tugged his shirt, the first one you'd seen so unkept from all the fumbling around he did during your labor; walking around the room with you, carrying you over to the bed when your water broke during the morning meeting, keeping the court away despite the centuries-old protocols that obliged them to see the moment of his child's entrance to the world.

With his shoulders sagging, he looked exhausted. Not a very common sight of the King, not even with you, as he always tried to keep you motivated and happy until he snapped under the pressure.

He couldn't hold your gaze for long, but it was something.

"You'll be a very good father. And I know it because you'd been one ever since we knew this little one will be coming into our lives. Do you believe me?"

Nikolai nodded, smiling between his gaze blurred with tears. "Of course, I believe you. You're a wise Queen and an even wiser mother." He kissed the top of your hair, your smell reassuring him. "Thank you, my love. I should be the one cheering you up after this and look at me. I suppose some things never change." He slid closer to you, sitting along the bed, his back against the headrest, rubbing his palms together as if he were about to start another flying ship prototype.

"Is he as light as he looks?" he muttered, his pinky slowly brushing his baby's face, marveling at the softest texture of his round and tiny cheek.

You giggled. "Quite the contrary."

Nikolai slid his hand over the baby's back, careful with his head as he picked him up against his arms. He was so warm and delicate, a sweet aroma washing over them as he kissed his baby's head.

"Hello, my son. I'm your daddy," he whispered, looking at the stray tufts of blonde hair that had started slipping off the hat. "Do you remember me? I promise I will continue to tell you stories and sing you songs from your crib. I love you so much, and I always will."

Contrary to what Nikolai imagined, his child remained calm in his embrace without the need for your gentle shushing. The King didn't want to tear his look away from such a beautiful sight; sweeping over to his closed eyes, the slightly pouted lips, the little nose he wanted to poke so badly just as he did with you. He just couldn't believe that such an adorable creature was his child, part of his blood, and an unbreakable bond with the love of his life.

"He's so small," he whispered, rocking him softly as the midwives had taught him to do. "I can't believe he's ours." His voice was hoarse, a knot in his throat as he gazed down at the bundle of bliss he was holding. "Thank you, my love. He is the most wonderful gift I could've ever asked for."

He felt your hand resting against his thigh, the mattress dipping as you moved slightly closer. "I wish you could see your face right now," you said, your own voice broke with emotion. "You look so happy."

"I don't think happy can describe how I feel right now, my love." He asked himself if this was what people seeking miracles from the Saints would feel at seeing their prayers fulfilled; with their hearts filled and their souls lighter. Even when the dark part of him still muttered that he didn't deserve to feel this way, Nikolai hugged his child closer, thinking that he was a new puzzle piece of his that would never be ripped apart from him.

"My beautiful boy. I will forever protect you and your mother." He leaned down to kiss his child's forehead again, staying there for a moment to hear his breath. "You two are my life."

Just like your breathing soothed him when he was haunted by his nightmares, the steady sound of his child's breath warmed him from the inside. The promise that he wasn't alone anymore, that he will never be.

Nikolai looked at you, the nurses already finished cleaning you up with damp towels. "I'm so proud of what you've given me, my love. Thank you. I shall start showing you in gifts, though I'm afraid I would never be able to pay you back."

You smiled, your eyes half-closed with the exhaustion of the labor piling up now that your child was in the safest place he could be: in his father's arms. "Perhaps not, but I think your love should do."

"What a humble queen I have." He said with a chuckle, one of his hands brushing along your cheek. "You should rest now."

His child was sound asleep too, used to hearing his father talk, the rumble of his chest, and the lull of his steady heartbeat reminiscing of when he was still inside his mother.

"Are you going to present him to the court now?" you said, trying to conceal a yawn with your hand. "They'd been waiting all day."

Nikolai held the baby close, carefully laying next to you on the bed with the baby atop his chest. "And I'll be waiting to see him for months, so I'll be keeping him to myself a little longer. I don't want the courtiers to besiege us asking if they can carry him."

"Hmmm…" you said, already half-asleep. "Very jealous."

He nudged you playfully, one of his hands tugging the bedsheet over your body. "Only for you two."

You didn't answer, your breath growing profound and slower, a familiar rhythm that echoed in the silent bedroom when he returned too late from so many duties to fulfill.

Nikolai was tired too, but part of him didn't wish to fall asleep, still not satisfied with the view of his perfect family conjured from his deepest dreams. It wasn't like the beginning of your marriage when he used to wake up thinking you were just a fantasy, he just wanted to take in the sight of his baby and decipher everything about him, about being a father.

You had told him that it was normal to commit mistakes, that it was normal not to be a perfect parent all the time, including him. That your baby and you will always love him because he always amended his missteps.

Nikolai gazed over his baby, his eyelids heavy. He felt the comforting warmth of your body next to him, the soothing weight of his child above his heart. Calmed, he closed his eyes to recover some energy until the baby stirred awake.

Everything was as it was supposed to be, with his entire world tucked in bed with him, safe and happy.

[romeulusroy]

Dependence (Roy!Sibling x Kendall Roy)

((SUCCESSION SPOILERS))

Character/s: Kendall

Word Count: 1,583

Warning: addiction/addiction mention

A/N: Baby girl!!!! I love him so much!!! I love how this turned out too :) it's v angsty, v sad, and hopefully in character! I'm having a lot of fun writing for Succession! 💞 Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Dependence Pt. 2 / Dependence Pt. 3 / Dependence Pt. 4 /Dependence Pt. 5

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

He smelled rich, sharp, daunting. The kind of scent your father would have worn, the kind men like him always did. Bared their teeth to seem more intimidating. It wasn’t like him at all. You sniffled against his suit, knowing your tears sat damp within the fabric, ruining the press he’d probably had. Ruining everything, like always. His arms wrapped around you so fiercely, so violently, holding you in place. Keeping you from running. Escaping. You were trapped on the boat sure, but there were stairwells, closets, you’d swim back if it meant leaving the scene of the crime. Your mind ran with exits, those bright red signs a welcomed attraction. Anything to get away, to be alone, to self-destruct on your own accord. You rubbed your palms against your pants, itching out of his grip, your sleeves balled into your palms. Whatever this attempt at love was, it was beginning to suffocate. He refused to let go. Anger rose in your throat like bile. A fury you’ve tried to outrun began to settle in the middle of your chest. You wanted to throw the same tantrums your father forbid. Kick, and scream, and break everything in sight. Burn the whole world down if it meant feeling an ounce of relief. Break your own bones if it meant putting out this fire. Numb it all like you’ve been doing your entire life. Maybe your brother knew this. Maybe he didn’t want the scene, the mess, to have to pick up the pieces. Maybe not. Maybe he was just sad, needing someone to hug. You would never be sure.

You stifled a sob, shaking despite yourself. You could see your brother and sister, talking, crying, saying what they needed to. Whatever you said, whatever you told him or begged from him, it was already gone. Forgotten. Your lips moved rhythmically, asking the same thing, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything, but this high pitch whine.. He rubbed your back, awkwardly at first, hesitant, and then comfortably. Soothingly. His throat vibrating, speaking, again going unheard. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to be here anymore. Not wanting this moment to exist. The last time you’d seen your sister cry, your brother retreat into himself like that, decades ago. Before you knew any of what you knew now. Before you’d been at one another's throats long enough to forget why. The inky black of your world could only do enough. Their voices, muffled, coming back to you. Closer. The hurt dripping from their words like honey. Sticky. Sweet. The fear. You tried to pull away, get some space, air. Again he refused. 

Did I tell him I loved him? Y, yes- of, of course you did. Did I tell him I loved him? 

Your father didn’t love you. He couldn’t stand to look at you in your later years. It was your brothers, sister, coming to your rescue. Scheduling cars, calls, making space for you on their couches, spare rooms, while you picked yourself up from rock bottom. Detoxing in their bathrooms, their beds. All you knew was excess. Excess wealth, yes, but also booze, drugs, pills. Everything except love. Using since you were a child, too young to understand, old enough to know no matter what you did, it would never be what he wanted. Taking drinks of silver platters, mixing whatever you found in the bathroom cabinet, what you found in your brothers pockets, sick as a dog in the morning. He had to know. There were always eyes watching, ears listening, someone to leave clean clothes on your bed when you threw up on yours in the middle of the night or when blood ran from your nose down the front of your shirt. And yet, he never said a thing. He never thought you should see someone, talk it out, get help. The baby of the family. The most expendable. Con was already out by the time you came around, the rest following. An accident, they’d all joked as soon as you were old enough. There was some truth to it, though. A hard truth. Logan ignored Connor, he hit Roman, disregarded Shiv, he thought Ken was incompetent, but you? He loathed you for reasons you’d never get answers to. Too much like your mother, your sister thought. Too much like him, your brother said. Whatever it was, whatever reminder you were, it was enough for him. You weren’t trying to outrun him, his disappointment, his wrath, but rather your own. 

You’d always been an angry kid. Overcome, blinded, by rage. You couldn’t put it into words. You didn’t have the vocabulary. You shattered glasses. Slammed doors. Banged your head against walls. Screamed into pillows until your voice was coarse. When bruises showed, when tabloids dragged your name before you were twelve, you’d receive the only fatherly advice you’d ever get in your life. Summoned to his study, barely taller than the door handle. He didn’t even look up from his papers. When he was done, only two words spoken, the housekeeper led you out. Quiet down. As if you weren’t barely keeping yourself together as it was. You’d kicked a hole through the wall after that, your shoes dusty with plaster. You threw everything in your room like a tornado until, eventually, he took those things away. A bed, a dresser, that was all you were allotted. They tried to help. To understand. To give you advice. What was there to say? How could you defend yourself? He was so much bigger than you, so much more powerful. When your fork ended up in the table, he sent you to your room for days at a time. The door wasn’t locked, but it didn’t need to be. Every so often you could see him, in the crack between the floor, standing there, not saying a word. It wasn’t long after that that you had your first drink. Romans, you think, left unattended. Brown, thick, smelling of gasoline and tasting of fire. It wasn’t a lot, but enough. Enough to settle the fury. Turn the heat down. Take the edge off. Everything clicked. This is what he must have meant. Quiet down. Do what you needed to do without the allegations scorning his name. Do it in secret. 

They didn’t always know when you were drunk, high, both. You weren’t messy, you weren’t about to cause a scene or ruin your fathers reputation. The volume was turned down, that was all. It took them longer than any of them would like to admit to realize that you weren’t okay. That the occasional drink or sip was an everyday occurrence, that those long trips to the bathroom and bloody noses weren’t a coincidence. They had their own lives now, their own affairs. What their baby sibling did was not that the top of their priority list. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t their job to take care of you, it wasn’t your father or mothers, who moved away soon after your anger disappeared, sure you were finally okay. It was your job. Always had been. Now you saw her on holidays if you were lucky, once or twice a year. She thought you’d be better off with him. Leaving a baby in a wolfs den. No wonder you ended up the way you did: a complete disaster. You tried to get sober on you own. Stop cold turkey. That never lasted long. Not that he cared. The first time you overdosed, the second, third, he swept it under the rug. It was easier dealing with you now that you were sedated. A shell. You wouldn’t have gone to rehab if they hadn’t forced you, tricked you with an intervention. Again and again, they did this. For years. When you stayed with your mother, things were more bearable, but she didn’t want a child. She didn’t want to be a mother, so, when she grew tired, she’d ship you off to him again. 

Today, you were clean just over a year. From everything. You didn’t do chips or meetings, that would mean admitting to the public that you had a problem, and that wasn’t something you were allowed to do. This was an internal clock. Every day you wanted to cave in and every day you found a reason not to. Today you didn’t have one. Not a single reason came to mind. Because the man you spent your entire life being afraid of was dead and your family was falling apart at the seams. Con didn’t even know. No one had told him yet. Tom stayed on the phone, but no one was speaking. No one had anything to say.  Kendall never loosened his grip. He never let go. He wouldn’t not for a long time, not until he knew you’d be okay on your own. Too many times he’d failed you as an older brother. Every time he let Logan near you was a failure on his part. He was dead. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, but you could hurt yourself and sometimes that was more dangerous. Of course you’d told him you loved him. Of course you did. Even when you didn’t, even when you couldn’t, you did. He did, for the both of you. He wasn’t a perfect big brother, he wasn’t even a good one, but he could try now. He had to try now. For all the times he hadn’t been there. All those years.

[tadalyme]

whumptober, day 2

There are many things Finnick Odair is good at. He's good at swimming, good at fighting, good at making knots. Good at baking decently tasty bread. He's also very good at pretending.

It's a skill he's honed throughout his whole life, ever since he was a little child. Pretending that he likes his mother's vegetable casserole. Pretending that he's completely fine when his father leads him to Mags’s house, his hand held in a forceful, painful grip, and proclaims in his booming voice that it would be the greatest honour for his son to train for the Games, right, boy? Pretending that he isn't scared to die and to kill.

Pretending that all the things that are done to his body on a regular basis aren't happening to him.

It’s somewhere past three at night and Finnick is sore and extremely dizzy and in the backseat of a car, coming back from his client. He’s in a car, because despite being just a District whore, he's an expensive one. President Snow doesn’t want anyone else to harm his investments. At least, not anyone not paying.

He’s just glad that it was the only appointment for today, because the guy, a flamboyant man in his thirties, a grandson or a nephew or a step-son of one of the influential Gamemakers, wanted to spice things up a bit in his sex life and made him swallow some colourful tablets before the act itself.

Well, it certainly spiced things up for Finnick, though probably not in a way the man intended to. He spent the whole time hearing the colours, and tasting the sounds, and seeing the images from his past and present all mixed up together.

The man was pounding into him and moaning and exclaiming something animated and probably over-the-top sexual in his shrill voice, but all Finnick could think about were the glistening in the sun tridents and spears and knives, and faces of the dead children, and his late father and ill mother and disappointed sister, and, for some reason, the Capitol's latest obnoxious vogue of inserting precious gemstones into their skin.

He desperately wanted to cry, so he laughed frantically, and he wanted to push the man away from him, too overstimulated, so he willed his muscles to relax.

The lights of the never-sleeping party area of Capitol fly by dizzyingly behind the window and Finnick has to lean onto it in an attempt not to puke. It's got a bit better in the past half hour, but the thoughts are still floating around his brain like dozens of little brightly-coloured butterflies. It’s hard to properly grasp any of them in a sticky daze of disorientation, though.

The car stops near the entrance to the Tribute Centre and he staggers out, swaying on his feet and almost ending up on the pavement. His limbs finally rearrange themselves in the correct order after a few moments and he musters a lazy salute with only some of his usual flourish to the back of the driving away car.

Still performing, even now. Gods, what a mess.

He doesn't know how exactly he reaches the elevator, but he does and the numbers swirl a bit in his eyes before settling down properly on the buttons.

He remembers well the first time he was here.

The thing is, he wasn’t even supposed to participate in the Hunger Games that year. That questionable honour was supposed to go to Jacob Maren, not yet eighteen, but the oldest among the trainees.

Instead, Dorothea, their escort, gracefully put her powdered hand with baby-blue nails, that matched her enormous wig, and pulled out his, Finnick's, name. There was a bit of a standstill after that - Jacob locking eyes with him across their separate pens. Should he volunteer, should he not. Finnick was too young yet but still a Career. In the end, Jacob stayed silent.

Just as well, thought Finnick, pushing through the crowds to the stage and already putting on a brilliant wide smile, I've trained for this, I can win, it'll be easy.

He knows now what his dumb, arrogant younger self didn’t understand back then - that even if you manage to become a victor, the only one who ever wins the Games is the Capitol.

Jacob did go the following year and died to a back-stabbing One girl. And Finnick has spent three years cursing that day and all that led to it.

Gods above, it has only been three years, hasn’t it? It feels much longer than that, so far away, so long ago. Almost like ancient history.

He did kind of make history with that one, didn’t he? The youngest Victor ever. A fat lot of good that did for him.

Fourth floor. He practically falls out of the elevator, only managing to catch onto the wall at the last moment.

Mags, curled up on the couch, perks up at the sound of sliding doors. In the dim lighting of the lounge her silver hair looks like a halo above her head. Ironic. It makes him burst out in a fit of hysterical high-pitched laughter. One would have to completely lose their marbles to call the woman an angel. An angel of death, at best. Some forget it, but she also killed in her Games, the same as all of them. And she's led enough kids to their deaths in the following years. He loves Mags with his whole heart, but she's no saint.

Mags always waits for him on appointment nights. He wishes she didn't see him like this, wishes no-one saw him like this and often snaps at her, but she only tuts in disapproval and keeps doing it. Despite his temper tantrums, he's glad she does.

Mags looks him over and frowns and he's sent down the rabbit hole of memories again.

They approach him the next day after he turns sixteen. The two of them look grim and apologetic and he doesn't know what to make of it.

‘I’m sorry, Finnick, I’m so sorry about what's probably going to happen,’ Mags says and lets out a sigh, sorrowful and tired and world-weary, and he, in a rare moment, is reminded of how old Mags really is, ‘Just… Remember that you can always talk to me, no matter what.' She inclines her head a bit, gesturing at her companion, ‘Or to Delia, if you need someone who truly gets it.'

Delia, who is wringing her hands half a step behind Mags, and looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, glances at him and gives him a bleak, perfunctory nod. He doesn’t know why he would need to or want to talk to her, but anyway it’s quite unlikely that he will take her up on this offer.

Finnick knows Delia, of course he does. Delia, a constantly nervous, twitchy Victor in her forties, teaches knife-throwing, and knife-stabbing, and other knife-related skills to the trainees and has never seemed to be a particular fan of long conversations. She's communicated with them mostly with sharp nods and half-aborted, jittery gestures, always looking on edge and shaky.

Her hands have never ever shaken with a blade in them, though.

Then, he gets the summons to the annual post-Victory tour party and President Snow asks to speak with him in his office after. He's told in detail what he's expected to do, now that he's finally sixteen, and what will happen if he doesn't.

Oh.

Oh.

That's what that meant.

His first appointment with a client is the next day and it's the beginning of the end.

His sister screams at him a few months later, when he returns from one of his trips to the Capitol, ‘They don’t care about you, you stupid boy! Why won’t you understand that! Why the Hell do you keep going there?’

But it’s her who doesn’t understand, who could never understand. He can’t tell Carolyn, he can’t, not just because he doesn’t want her to know what he does, but because he’s not allowed to.

President Snow was quite straightforward about what would happen to his ill mother and his sister with her husband and their baby twins, if he were to tell anyone, even them, anything. So he keeps quiet and let them think the worst of him. The same thing that everyone else does.

(Other than his fellow victors, who are all aware of the work he and the ones like him are made to do, the only person who doesn’t look at him with badly concealed disgust, or jealousy, or fake friendliness, or lust in Four is Annie Cresta. Her eyes (also sea-green, though a few tones lighter than his own) only ever look at him with sympathy and pity these days. He would have absolutely hated being looked at like that not long ago, but now it’s just so goddamn refreshing. He used to find her annoying with her righteousness and softness when they trained to be careers together, thought her weak and kind of cowardly, but maybe there is actually nothing wrong with gentleness and timidity, he ponders.

Of course, it’s hopeless, getting used to even such a small thing. Annie Cresta is a Career. She will go into the Games soon. In a couple of years she will likely be dead.)

Mags approaches him slowly, telegraphing all her movements clearly, trying not to spook him. He must look bad, because she checks his temperature with a hand on his forehead. From her pursed lips and scrunched eyebrows he gathers that it’s not very good.

'What, doctor, am i dying yet?' he ironizes.

'Well, you certainly don't look too lively, boy,' she snaps back,'Sit down, I'll be right back.'

She lets him settle on the couch and leaves to fetch her first-aid kit. They’re not allowed to bring any pills to the Tribute centre, so as to not let tributes get anywhere near them, but she has some other basic supplies. Luckily, today they are no flesh wounds to patch up.

She comes back with a thermometer in her hand. And that’s what sends him over the edge and into hysterical tears, the goddamn thermometer. It’s an old-fashioned but trusty mercury thermometer, very common back in Four, but considered obsolete by Capitol standards.

Finnick, having been many times in the local medical over the past year and a half to get patched up after rough encounters with clients, is intimately familiar by now with Capitol’s high-tech, reliably produced in Three.

She waits a bit before his sobs and shaking subside, finally takes his temperature and asks,'You're burning up. What on earth happened to you?'

'He gave me something, I don't know what,' Finnick replies reluctantly and watches her face twist and her arms cross on her chest. She's staring at him pointedly.

'Do we really have to?' he groans,'I'm almost fine by now. You're only wobbling a bit in my eyes.'

'Come on, up you go,' she pulls him up, surprisingly strong for a seventy-year-old, and leads him to his room, to the bathroom. She walks out again and returns with a glass and a closed water bottle.

She fills the glass with tap water and makes him drink it again and again and then throw up, repeating and repeating it until there's nothing left in his stomach at all.

Then she hands him the water bottle, lightly shoves him in the direction of the needlessly overcomplicated shower and exits.

When he finally emerges into his room he's almost feeling like himself again. Mags is still there, leaning on the frame of his bed. He finds some clothes to sleep in and drops next to her. She hums softly and smooths his hair out, running her fingers through his wet curly locks.

She's been much gentler with him since his Games, but she's taken a fancy to him a long time ago.

He was a bit of a troublemaker as a child, like little boys so often are, always sneaking away to the creek to play on the wet rocky shores, or trying to catch fry with his bare hands, or diving from the pier to see how long he could hold his breath, generally making his mother exasperated. He showed up at home in the late afternoon tired but joyful after a day of exploring with a wide toothless grin, seaweed in his hair and damp dirty patches on his knees.

His father didn’t like that much. So at a ripe old age of seven he’s dumped on Mags’s doorstep, who looks at his father weirdly over Finnick’s head and then takes a look at him, slowly lowers down to his eye-level and grasps his tiny hand with her veiny, old-woman one. ‘Well, well, well, what are we going to do with you, little one?’

She's never been cruel to any of the trainees, definitely not, but she wasn't particularly warm-hearted either. She was kind, but also stern and strict, like a proper trainer. He knows that it's because, despite all the preparations, most of them would die in their Games. She didn't really believe that he would win his Games either.

But he survived and she became more willing to show her affection for him after that. And to him, she, the person who practically raised him, instead of his distant mother and constantly angry father, has always felt the most like a real family, even when she acted all grumpy.

He drifts to sleep, relaxing under the silent watch of the only person in the world he fully trusts.

[a-b-riddle]

Pen Pals Chapter Four: First Day

C suggested that I go and get some clothes for my first week of work so the Saturday after my Friday interview. The dressing rooms were still closed which was a pain, but I kept the receipts in case I didn't like it or it didn't fit. I gave him a video call and was met with a black screen, as usual, as I tried on the outfits for him.

"Wear the first pair of black pants you showed me and the pink top." He was referring to the black straight leg slacks and the baby pink silk blouse with a chiffon tie. "Go get those boxes I sent you." He ordered. When I returned home from shopping I had two packages waiting for me on my doorstep.

They were both in standard brown shipping boxes, but after opening them I was met with utter shock.

"Oh my god." My mouth hung open as I opened it. "C. You shouldn't have." I didn't even open it all the way, but seeing the orange Louis Vuitton made me realize what he had done. When I finally did open it I found a beautiful beige purse.

"Every girl needs a new statement piece on their first day of work." He said. "It's the Lockme Ever MM. If you don't like it you can exchange it."

"I love it. And I can wear the pearls you gave me for graduation." I beamed still looking at the purse.

"Open the other one." He said almost as excited as I was. When I did I found a similar bag, but in black. "That one, I believe, is the Lockme Ever BB." I looked down at my gifts and didn't even know I had started crying. "What's wrong?" He asked, concern in his voice. "Do you not like them."

"There so nice." I pouted and wiped my eyes. "I love them." I cradled the purses to my chest as if a child who had gotten the exact toy they wanted on Christmas Day. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Good. You're welcome, baby." He said. "I got to get some things done before the end of the day, but I look forward to our video chat tonight."

"Me too."

"I'll see you in a bit, Love." I blew him a kiss and the call disconnected.

Holy-fucking-shit. These purses had to at least be at least $3,000 a piece. He spent what he gives me in an allowance on two bags. Holy shit. I had always bought my purses at Target, but this was... This was probably the most expensive thing I've ever owned beside my degrees that hung on the wall, but I couldn't carry those into work.

It's so funny to think a couple of months ago I sat in an empty apartment with nothing but a bed, crying about my life and now things had did a complete 180. My life had drastically changed in the best way possible. And it was because of C.

Monday couldn't get here soon enough. I was so excited to start my first day. I stopped and got a cup of coffee for myself, Mr. Stark as well as Mr. Rogers. When I got there security on the first floor got my badge and security access taken care of. I was essentially allowed to most of the 93 floors in Stark Tower.

I was then instructed to go to the same floor where I met Pepper. I was expecting to find her, but only found an empty desk and a folder with a sticky note on top of it.

Sorry I couldn't be there on your first day, something came up. Here is a basic outline of everything you need to know. Tony won't be down until later. If you need any help here is my cell. -Pepper.

I looked through the folder which would have been better put into a binder considering the amount of paper she put into it. I had barely started reviewing the documents when Steve walked up to my desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Rogers." I greeted. "I had time this morning so I did a coffee run." I handed him a medium black coffee from the coffee shop near my apartment.

"Good morning," he replied taking the coffee from my hands. "And please, just call me Steve." He insisted.

"I'll try." I assured him. "I grew up in Georgia so not referring to someone as Mr., Mrs., Sir. or Ma'am is kind of habit I'll have to break."

"You have manners?" He raised an eyebrow. "A shame. Tony tries to keep this place with a sense of impoliteness in the air. Thank you for the coffee."

"No problem. I hope plain black is okay."

"Do I seem like a plain black kind of guy?" He questioned tilting his head.

"I can go get some creamer." I went to stand when he broke into a smile.

"No, I take it black. I still like to keep some things simple." His attention broke away from me at someone coming through the lobby front doors. "Bucky," He greeted. A brunette with eyes just as blue and beautiful as Steve's walked over to my desk. "This is Bucky Barnes, we go way back."

"Stark's new assistant?" He asked and I smiled and nodded in response. "How you liking it so far?"

"First day: can't complain." I said. "Everyone is so nice."

"Plus Stark isn't up yet so he hasn't had the chance to ruin her day." Steve rolled his eyes. "Well, we will let you get to work and we'll see you around. Since it's your first day, I think Tony wanted to take you to lunch. Bucky will come around noon if he hasn't come yet and maybe we can steal you away instead."

"Oh," I said surprised. "Perfect. I'll see y'all later." I smiled at them as they left.

A few hours passed and I made myself busy with the list of things Pepper left me to do. Mr. Stark left his workshop and finally came down around 12.

"I hope you haven't had lunch yet." He said. "And sorry I haven't been down yet, I'm tinkering with a few things upstairs."

"Oh, no problem." I reassured. "Pepper left a very detailed list of instructions. So far nothing exciting except a few packages."

"So instead of apartment numbers, the floor is where it will need to be dropped off. Sometimes Steve and Bucky will get things in the mail too."

"Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes?" I asked.

"They live in the tower too." He said. "Makes things easier when we are all close together. How does Shawarma sound for lunch?"

"I was actually thinking Italian." Steve's voice came out of nowhere. When did he get back on this floor? I needed to find the stairs here at some point.

With his back still turned, he rolled his eyes. "Always has to be in charge." He whispered. "Italian it is."

Lunch was pleasant to say the least, even with the minimal banter between Steve and Tony. It was more like a sibling rivalry than a old married couple. Bucky had come along as well, mostly remaining quiet.

I asked if they always acted like this. He responded that it was when they were both quiet that it was more uncomfortable. He asked if I wanted to really wanted to start and argument was to ask who was in charge of the Avengers.

I shook my head and Bucky smiled. "So are you new to the city?" He asked.

"Sort of." I shrugged as Tony and Steve carried on their separate conversation. "I came here a couple of months ago before Covid hit and haven't really gotten out of my apartment."

"That blows." He said. "No friends in the city?"

I made a grimaced face and shook my head. "Not really." I said glumly. "I was supposed to start teaching when I moved, but covid made everything complicated."

"What were you wanting to teach?"

"History, but I specialized in World War II." I said before taking a bite of my Caprese salad with pesto sauce. C said I looked thinner and should be making sure to eat enough healthy carbs.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt me. Or him.

However the saying went.

"Funny how the world works." He smiled before motioning his head toward Steve. "You're having lunch with two WW2 relics." I covered my mouth making sure none of my food showed as I smiled.

Steve and Tony eventually ceased their bantering long enough to join back into the conversation. They had asked me why I had gotten into studying history so extensively and very little personal information. Tony discussed a new prototype he was working on.

"Similar to how whales use echo location, the same will be done with this tracking device. Planes, vehicles, military equipment, but also testing out the device on animals to see if we can eventually use it on people."

The notion made my stomach drop. Mr. Stark quickly reassured the apparent qualm I had. "For willing parties only, I assure you. There was a missing persons report that came up when Pepper and I were watching TV. Young girl, about your age, man was convicted of rape and murder, but her remains were never found. And Pepper and I are trying to a family and I just thought 'that family will never know what happened to their daughter'."

The sentiment moved me. "So I thought, why not make it another tool for police to use? Cell phones and things like that can be destroyed, but even if it couldn't save them, it could at least give their family some closure."

"And even with tracking endangered species. Maybe even aquatic animals."

The idea didn't seem all that revolutionary in my opinion. Surely tracking devices like that have been proposed before...

When I got back there was a bouquet of daises and sunflowers sitting on my desk. "Was Pepper expecting a floral delivery?" I asked Tony setting my purse down on my desk.

"Not that I know of." He said stepping into the elevator with Bucky and Steve. "Unless she has a secret admirer I don't know about." The door closed and I was left alone with the floral arrangement.

I plucked the card from the top reading. 'Have a great first day - C.'

Only problem was, I never told him where I worked. Only that I would be working as a secretary for a tech company and that was the extent of it. He had watched me.

I'm glad Tony and the others had went up to their floors and did not see how ghostly pale my face had turned.

[dairy-farmer]

meanie.

(you know who this is, from how i write stuff 🤍🤍.)

you see, jason's just a meanie. he'd make poor baby tim cry. by stealing away his pacifier and teether. and he'd often say sorry to tim in the meanest way ever. just like how a child would say sorry when they're still mad at the person who made them mad.

but sometimes, it isn't jason who's a meanie to the baby, it's the world. jason would sometimes bring tim along to his own apartment, whenever there's some adult stuff happening back in the manor. wayne manor.

jason makes tim's bottle for the night, tim's just there in his crib, playing with his toes and jason's done with the bottle. peeking at tim, tim just makes happy noises, seeing his brother by just peeking at him.

"who's a hungry baby? hm? hm? you are!" jason coos and tim just giggles, reaching for the bottle. still, he did make the poor baby cry by teasing him into not getting his milk too soon. "okay okay, i'm sorry, finish it well baby." tim just chugs down, finished.

but, he wants to be put down, jason's puzzled. what did the baby want this time? as tim crawls he pats jason's crotch area wanting to suck it. and jason unzips his pants, puts all of his clothes off so the baby can have access to where he wants to put his mouth on.

jason being a tease as usual, removes his cock out of tim's mouth, tim whining, wanting more, starts to cry. again.

a crier? isn't he?

"all babies know is to be fuzzy and to whine and just be a baby, don't they?" jason kisses tim's forhead. guiding tim onto sitting on his lap just to ride his cock makes tim alot more calmer. he's slightly falling asleep, and jason just fingers him a little bit, hearing soft whines and a few liquids coming out of tim, he licks them up quickly.

meanie.

jason being a natural born bully 😭😭😭😭being mean to little timmy- teasing him by ripping away his pacifier, teething ring, bottle, and cock when he's just about to get it.

jason can't help it- he likes watching the way tim's face scrunches up, how his bottom lip quivers, and he makes little stuttered noises as he's about to sob. something about it just fills jason with an unknown emotion. maybe it's a powertrip. it must be. because who else takes pleasure in bully some dumb little baby.

tim's this soft and helpless little thing, so utterly dependent on his family and jason. and what can a little baby like tim do if jason decides to be cruel on day?

of course jason would never torture tim! he just....bats him around a little. tugs on his pigtails a little bit. tim would be a spoiled baby otherwise! always getting what he wants and when he wants with a daddy and brothers that all fall over themselves to give him whatever he wants. the only time tim ever got in trouble was when he kept rubbing against things like a dog and getting stickies all over the inside of his diaper like a bad little boy. bruce put tim in his bouncer as punishment, not letting him get any relief until he realized that he couldn't just be bad boy and do whatever he wants.

jason isn't always so mean to tim. he does love him after all. he cuddles him close, puts cartoons on for him, rocks him, and kisses his forehead.

when jason takes his cock away from him and tim, the baby, starts to cry- jason tugs him close. he undoes tim's diaper and holds his cock steady, listening to tim's pleased squeal as he impales him slowy, sinking into that hot, tight heat that bruce is always so selfish by claiming for himself.

jason puts his hands on tim's hips and softly bounces him up and down like he'd down when he got that hippity hopper ball toy for christmas. tim whines, opening his mouth and suckling on jason's neck and the button of his shirt.

unlike bruce, jason's tits got nothing out of being suckled on by a soft little mouth.

so jason keeps bouncing tim, grunting when he feels a hot clench and tim trembling as he makes stickies that jason scoops up with his fingers and rubs between them. he marvels at the wetness, watching stings of the release connect his fingers together and break as he stretches them apart.

jason fucks tim even when he's too sensitive for it, just slowing the thrusts down to a grind and listening as tim whines lowly and wraps his hands around him tighter.

such a baby. always needing comfort.

he's lucky jason is such a nice brother.

[bemylord]

ꜱ/ᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ │ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇꜱ

↳ characters: satoru, itadori, megumi, toji, nanamin, sukuna.

↳ warnings: it's fluff part, so there's no angst or hurtful things [some parts might be spicy].

↳ butler's remark: finally have dropped the last part of this angst theme.i don't know what kind of dr#gs i used when i was writing the last three.

↳ part one;

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴜᴊɪ:

he'd be very sad and angry at himself for screamed at you. he didn't mean to push you away because of his fatigue. as he recalled the phrase you dropped before leaving: 'i'm gonna cuddle with megumi-kun' this phrase goes on and on in his head as he runs into your room. he knocked first, hoping you're alone. he knocked again, but there's no response.

'my baby, i'm so-so-so sorry, baby.' he just jump to the bed, wrapping arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. 'no, don't cry because of me, i'm the worst boyfriend ever.' he kisses the top of your head.

yuuji will cry with you if you'd continue to sob your nose, burying your face as deep as it's possible in itadori's chest, unable to deny his necessity. he's comforting you in his arms, whispering praising phrases about you.

'i was a fool, y/n, please forgive me.'

'promise me you'll never scream at me like that.'

instead of words, but kissed your lips, nodded his head. yuuji will show his love and affection by kisses and hugs, holding you tight to keep you from running away.

'y/n, i love you.'

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ:

you've decided not to leave but stay home, waiting as long as his malice calm down. you were waiting for him in the bedroom, still grieved by the last words. you know megumi wasn't serious - he hates being beaten up by todo or satoru, you also know that he'll be a puppy right after a bath.

he showed up in the room in the home shorts, aimlessly rubbing the back of the neck, breathing out what caught your attention.

'i shouldn't have let the anger gets the best of me, y/n.'

bruises and abrasions are coaxed on his upper body and face as it brings the pain when he sits on the bed. he again rubs the skin, nervous to ask you to heal him.

'i-i would like..'

'i'll heal you, 'gumi.'

he smiles, seeing you tenderly how you treat wounds. he thought you were going to kill him after the acuteness, but here you are, helping your lover.

'i don't deserve you y/n, you always have been so kind to me. i'm sorry for being a moron, my angel, i didn't mean it.'

you took him of guard by a quick, yet lovely kiss on the lips.

'i will make it up to you, i will change.'

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ:

you may think it'll take days or weeks for him to the realization of what did he do. you were a naive one by leaving the gold wedding ring on the table, thought he won't notice.

'i am not a servant or errand girl, i'm his wife!'

perhaps, you thought he won't sniff as you're leaving the house, silly. he has a perfect hearing to hear where you're going and what you left.

'what a jerk i fell in love for, had the misfortune to marry that...'

'to marry that?'

he finished your sentences, turning your body by your arm.

'need a woman to meet your needs, toji? i've had enough.'

his strong arm didn't let you a chance to leave the place you stand, only pulling you by the chin to look into the loving eyes.

'fool, you're my woman, my wife, and the mother of my future children.'

'regret?' he gasped into your lips before kissing them, nibbling lightly on your lower lip.

'i'll do anything to make you forgive me. should i ea-?'

'home, toji, home!'

'by the way, if you ever take the ring off, ohh. doll~'

ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏᴜ: [i think i was h1gh, no hate on me after]

i heard about the woman that have called her boyfriend about thosand or more times, so.. it's satoru. satoru has been calling you since you've left the house, maybe, you'd pick up the phone if you weren't be fury at your boyfriend.

you were walking in the park where gojo first confessed his love. your first kiss and something more than a kiss. that place you will always remember is the tallest and oldest tree in the park. noticeable and stately. as you came to the tree you heard someone behind you.

'you knew it's my place, y/n!' what? is that a touchy voice?

'whatever i'm leaving.'

'where do ya goinnng~~'

'home.'

'fine, i'm walking home too. take you home?'

'we live in the same house.'

'that's better! wanna watch netflix and chill?'

i'd say you're mad at him, but i'll lie. he's so funny and cute, how can you resist?

'don't act like a clingy, gojo.'

'you began first. ok-ok, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry.'

you had to gag him with a kiss because he would have continued talking nonsense. acting like a child. he lifted you by the waist, kissing you and whispering sweet phrases.

'i love when you're clingy, my baby, i was- i feel so bad due to the work, my angel. soon we'll be going on the mission.'

he lowered you to the ground, kissing you on the tip of your nose.

'let's pick some flowers and make a wreath, shall we?'

'we'll get arrested.'

'you can run, y/n.'

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ:

you were taking a bath on your own, drowning in the tears - as you've mentioned you're overly clingy and vulnerable and nanami had had known this. he knew you could be sticky when you haven't seen him in a few hours - but does it badly? he knocked twice on the door, waiting for your response.

'darling, mm-' he hesitated as if you'll reject him. 'may i come in?' you only made a quiet mumbling sound, but it was enough for him to enter the bathtub.

he took off his suit, joining you. no matter how much you try, he will see your weeping eyes.

'i shouldn't have yelled at you over a hard day. darling, come to me, tell me how your day went.'

'not before you tell me about yours.'

you sat on his lap, massaging his sturdy, tired shoulders, helping him relax.

'taking a bath like that with you after a day's work is what i like best.'

he kisses your lips as your palms still find themselves on his shoulders. anyway, nanami doesn't want his future wife to cry over him - he'll be the best husband.

ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ:

it has been weeks since you didn't interact with the king: neither you didn't come to his domain nor answer on his questions. when his sudden mouth appeared on yuuji's cheek, asking you to immediately come to his domain, you didn't feel the need to respond sukuna, irritating him.

you were waiting 'till the king will utterly be pissed off by your behavior, taking the possession of the vessel body to finally have a conversation with you.

'y/n, do something! sukuna has been so furious that i can hardly restrain him.'

'the king wants to see the stupid girl?' you crossed arms over the chest, letting out a sigh of relief - finally. 'i'm coming, sukuna.' you touches yuuji's chest to find yourself being instantly on sukuna's lap.

'you've been ignoring me for weeks, woman.'

'i wonder why? because i'm stupid and clingy?'

sukuna pulled the loose strands of hair out of your face carefully, so as not to hurt you with a claw. he cups your cheeks, making you stare directly at him in the eyes.

'i won't say it twice, so hear me out.' he kissed your lips with fondness, which was not characteristic of him. 'i'm sorry, okay?'

from now on, you can show off that the king of curses said sorry to you. be proud of yourself, 'till his eyes are cast dark hue, palms found themselves on your hips.

'i've been alone for days and days, y/n,' you could feel something raising underneath you. 'and why through all bastards you've chosen satoru?'

someone is jealous..

however, i have a feeling that there will be some sort of sequel...

tag my cuties <3

@monisi @herhappyplace @h3artfiilia @din0plushie @giaduuh @schleepyflocci @creammy0 @rmjace @whogonprayformee @wwholesome-vibes @blacckkwiddow @sivaneeee @deepcowboywerewolf @royaltyofwinterfell @bakugo1819 @electroniclightjudgeghost @alexganes @tonks221 @spn-obession @superbheropeachtrash @strwbrry-lia @sterieshinso @daynada @butyfigers @lonely-dreamer @adorenoya @fluffymarshmellowcat @cloudsinthecosmos @itsonyxpected @itspastellemons @kingdomblvck @lovliecs @doodledee-png @neo-lucien @fl4mepillar @musichime07

↳ back to the main master list.

[nsfw-kill-me-now]

Blood

Instead of Bonnie dying on the cross, the Billy Boys decide to have some fun with the young Gold's future wife. They beat her, have their way with her until she's bloody and unconscious, shoot her in the chest, and tie her to the cross. By some miracle, if you could call it that, the girl survived, but she'll never be the same.

THIS FIC IS VERY MUCH INCOMPLETE. I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL FINISH IT, OR IF I WILL. I WILL TAKE CRITICISM BUT KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS IS MY FIRST FIC EVER POSTED.

Warnings: fem!reader, heavy angst, allusions to rape, blood (mentioned), miscarriage, paralysis, likely inaccurate depictions of a Birmingham-based hospital in the 1920s, abortion themes, childhood abuse (mentioned), verbal abuse (mentioned), MASSIVE TRIGGERS ALTOGETHER

While there are absolutely no religious themes or allusions in this fic, I did partially base this on my own experience being raised Catholic (tho not in an ideal, "good" Catholic household if that makes sense), as well as events that have happened in my extended family, including but not limited to: mental/verbal child abuse, rape, disability, and miscarriage.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

.

"Was it a girl? A boy?"

A pause. "A girl."

"I want to hold her."

A gasp. "No."

"Give her to me."

"I-I'm sorry, th-the fetus has already been--"

"DON'T CALL HER THAT!" I roared, attempting to lung at the poor nurse, but my legs were numb. The girl leaped away, her eyes wide with terror. I wanted to blind her. "SHE'S A BABY! SHE NEEDS HER MOTHER! GIVE HER TO ME! GIVE HER BACK! GIVE HER--"

Arms wrap around my shoulders and I screamed. Back in the forest, the Billy Boys' chanting rang in my ears as their hands groped my body. One of them sliced the front of my dress, cutting flesh down to the stomach. Another squeezed my breasts. Someone slammed his boot into my gut. I couldn't even cry out with a hand covering my mouth. In the hospital, nurses and doctors surrounded me, then I returned once again to the forest. Memory and reality blurred into one. I struggled against the arms wrapped around my midsection, only vaguely processing that I couldn't kick my legs, try as I may. Hot tears spilled from my eyes in the struggle, screaming and scratching the unwelcome touch of my captors. There were no words, only rage and fear and a desire to not be touched. The telltale BANG of a gunshot echoed in the country air. My abdomen felt sticky and warm. Vaguely, I register a cloth covering my mouth, it's sickly-sweet scent all too familiar. My world, hazy and warped, once more fades into darkness.

The next time I woke up, the room was different. A heavy door, white brick walls, and a single window with light streaming through. I went to shield my eyes, but my arms were too heavy. I couldn't even muster out a word, only what could be called a grunt.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"I can't, Bonnie. I can't get up."

A pause. "Why?" His voice was so small.

I sighed, and looked up to him with sad, tired eyes. "I can't feel my legs."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I..." My breath hitched. "I... didn't want a baby." I stared at the wall. I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to see her eyes. "I could never be...a good mother. H-How could I? Didn't exactly have the best example."

I paused. "Sh-she'd always held it over my head. 'I could'a 'ad ya killed,' she'd say. 'Should'a let the doc cut ya into pieces an' be done wi' ya,' she'd shout. Like my life was an inconvenience, e-even before my first breath. My own fuckin' mother. And I'll have been just like 'er, wouldn't I?

"B-But.. I still wanted my-- I still wanted her to... have a chance. Bonnie's a good man, and she would have known her father to be a good man. He didn't force me, and I think he knew I didn't want... but I knew he really wanted to be. I tried for him. A-And I get why other people would just get rid of it, there are serious reasons to, but... but I never saw this child as an "it." She was there. She was moving... dancing, even. She was alive. How could I take that away? Even now, I don't understand how anyone believes they have the right to do something like that, even if the m-mum would d-die otherwise. And God, I'm a fuckin' terrible person for saying that, aren't I?" I paused, breath hitching, then continued. "But to me, I'd have killed her. I-I didn't want a kid, but I wanted her to live."

I saw Ada's shoes approach my chair, and she surprised me by wiping my cheeks. When had I started to cry? She gingerly turned my face towards hers, stood back an inch, and opened her arms.

Another pause.

A sob ruptured from my throat. I lunged into her bosom, clung to her satin dress, and cried.

[obsidiancreates]

Born This Way (Because Of Negligence Towards Basic Scientific Safety)

(IDK how far apart the Fenton kids are in age, so Jazz is an Undetermined Age Where She's A Toddler But Also Very Verbal. Maybe it's the Genius Genes letting her learn faster. Let's go with that.)

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

Maddie coughs, spitting out another glob of ectoplasm. "Well, at least know it's not an issues with the cooling system."

Jack sneezes out the ectoplasm stuck in his nose, and then grins and stands triumphantly. "Still a step towards success!"

Jazz frowns from where she's playing with her doll, safe within a Fenton Anti-Ghost Toddler Chamber. "Mommy, you should cover your mouth." She points at her own mouth. "Mr. Wummy on TV says dat getting weird stuff in your mouth is bad."

"Mr. Wummy is a cartoon, dear. We're seasoned scientists, we know what we're doing." She wipes herself off, and sits down. "If there were any side-effects to accidental ecoplasmic consumption, we'd know."

"But what if Danny doesn't like it?" Jazz point at her mother's belly.

Maddie pats her belly. "The baby is still just a fetus, sweetie. It can't tell what it does and doesn't like yet. And why are you so sure it'll be a boy?"

"Because I'm your baby girl. So now you need a baby boy!"

Maddie tilts her head and smiles lovingly at her daughter. "Oh, you're adorable." Nothing cuter than Child Logic.

Maddie stands back up, and puts her hands on the workbench. "Now, let's see about that firing mechanism..."

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

Maddie brushes her teeth, sighing when her toothbrush comes away glowing green. "We really messed up a lot of experiments today. I think I swallowed a whole ghost's worth."

Jack spits a similarly colored mouthful of toothpaste foam out. "At least it doesn't taste as bad as it smells."

Maddie puts her hands on her belly, the bump now quite obvious. "II hope we're right about it not having side effects."

Jack's expression softens. He gently pulls his wife into a comforting hug. "The doctors all say he's as healthy as can be, Mads. You don't need to worry."

"I still worry anyway, though."

"Of course you do. You're his mom! But we'll worry together, and if you ever need me to, I'll do the worrying for us both! While you relax and give him more tips on how to avoid ghosts once he learns to walk."

Maddie giggles, and sighs. It'll all be fine... nothing to worry about.

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

Jazz has her arms crossed, a teddy bear hanging from one hand. "Five times!"

"Yes, and did we mention we're so proud that you can count so we-"

"Five times!" She shouts again, waving her little sticky toddler hand at them. "I saw you eat the bad green stuff five times!"

"We didn't eat it," Maddie says patiently, "It got into our mouths by accident."

"You swallowed it!"

"Only a tiny bit, only on accident, dear."

Jazz puts her hand on her mom's belly. "Danny is gonna be here soon and he's gonna be mad!"

"He won't even know it happened, sweetheart."

"Yes he will! He'll be the smartest ever, just like me and like you and like daddy! And he'll be so upset and never stop crying!"

"Babies do that anyway, sweetie." Maddie rubs her belly. It's true, Danny is due any day now. And yes... there's been some extra Ectoplasm Incidents lately. Maddie just can't stay awake sometimes, and... well. That's not exactly good when working on ghost hunting machines.

"Your baby brother will be perfectly fine," Maddie assures. "He's a healthy baby boy, and he'll be just as healthy when you meet him."

Jazz lights up at the mention of meeting him. She can't wait!

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

Jazz bounces excitedly in her dad's arms. She gets to meet her baby brother! Finally! She's going to read him bedtime stories, and protect him from closet monsters, and show him how to throw a tea party!

Jack chuckles. "Calm down, sweetie, you don't get to play with him quite yet! He's still very fragile."

"But he's okay?"

"Yes, he and Mommy are both okay. Better than okay."

Jack knocks on the hospital room door, and they enter.

Maddie is holding Danny, and it looks like she fell asleep. Jazz gasps, even though all she can see so far is the blanket bundle.

"He's tiny!"

"Very." Again. Ah well. Jack had always hoped one of his kids would groww up to be taller than him, but maybe it'll have to be a grandkid.

He walks over, and smiles at his sleeping wife. "Okay, let's be quiet," he whispers. "We don't want to wake mommy."

Jazz nods seriously.

Jack sets her on the bed, and Jazz carefully crawls closer to Danny. She moves the blanket to get a good look at his face, grinning widly-!

She frowns. "Where is he?"

"What?!" Jack hurriedly picks up the bundle, making Maddie startle awake. "Holy-"

"Jack? Honey? What is it?!" Maddie's tone becomes increasingly panicked.

Jack, looking a bit pale, hands the bundle back to her. She gasps.

It's empty, and freezing!

"Where- where is-"

And then suddenly. He's there.

Fast asleep, wrapped up snug and tight. His little face still red from being brand-new to the world, his tiny tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly as he snoozes.

He disappears again.

Maddie thinks she's about to pass out.

Finally, Jazz breaks the horrified silence. "I told you to cover your mouths!"

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

Danny sleeps all the way home, and all the way up to his room. Jazz is waiting by the bassinet, and peeks in as soon as he's placed down. She frowns. "Mommy, his hair is white. He's not old."

Maddie sighs. "No, he's not. Apparently it just... does that, sometimes."

Danny yawns, and opens his little eyes. Jazz's own eyes widen as well. "He's glowing!"

"Yes... that happens too."

Danny screws up his face, and starts crying. Maddie picks him up and rocks him. "Poor baby... he's so cold."

"Why?" Jazz tilts her head.

Maddie sighs. "Well... your father and I... we think he's half-ghost."

"How?"

"... Probably... the ectoplasm," Shame burns in Maddie's veins.

Jazz, wide-eyed, reaches to to try and touch Danny. "Is he dead?" She doesn't sound sad, because it looks to her like even if he is dead, he's still alive.

"No!" Maddie shuts the idea right down. "He is a very healthy, living boy! But he's... different."

"Are you gonna trap him?"

"Wh- Jasmine, why would you ask that!"

"He's a ghost."

"No! No, we never treat him like any other ghost. And he's only partly ghost, so it barely counts. Now, Mommy has to feed him so he can go back to sleep. How about you go pick a movie for tonight?"

Jazz nods. She takes that job very seriously. There's a science to picking movies.

She heads off, and Maddie looks at Danny's sniffling little face. His eyes are back too baby blue, but his hair isn't quite black yet.

At least he's still visible.

At least the side effects seem mild.

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

It's about 6 am when Jack bolts up too use the bathroom. On his way back, he decides to check on the kids.

Jazz is asleep, cuddling a stuffed animal. Jack smiles.

Danny is also asleep, wrapped up in a cute little onesie and floating above the bassinet FLOATING ABOVE THE BASSINET?!?!

Jack runs over and grabs Danny from the air, pulling out a Fenton Ghost-Whapping Baton!

And then he looks at Danny, who's whining, and sees sleepy glowing green eyes looking at him.

"Oh. Um, sorry, son." He puts away the baton. "I thought a ghost was stealing you."

Danny yawns. Jack sees a cold breath puff out of his son's mouth, despite the room being temperature-controlled to keep him toasty during the nights.

Jack puts Danny back into the bassinet. He leaves, and comes back a little bit later with some equipment.

He sets up a rudimentary ghost-shield to keep Danny from floating away during the night, but won't trap him. He can still float a little, if need be.

"The scariest ghost we've faced yet," Jack mumbles. He kisses Danny's forehead, and sits there until Danny falls asleep. By then, Danny is human again.

Jack leaves, and in the morning he and Maddie begin working on some upgrades for Danny's room.

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

Danny babbles happily as Jazz plays peek-a-boo with him.

"Boo!"

Laughter.

"Boo!"

More laughter!

"A-boo! A-boo!" Jazz can't stop grinning. She's a great older sister! Look at her go!

She takes Danny's hands, and moves them over his face. "Now, where's Danny? ... Here he is! Oh."

Danny isn't there. But his clothes are, and something's inside of them. And Jazz is still holding two chubby baby arms, even if they're cold and invisible.

Jazz stares for a second, and then speaks. "... Peek-a-boo?"

Danny reappears, and squeals with laughter!

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

Maddie sits down to give Danny his bottle. She's brought him out shopping with her so she can grab some replacement parts that fried in their latest invention, the Fenton Ecto-Extractor!

Jazz had thrown a fit when she'd heard the name, and it startled Jack so bad he'd turned it on too early and it completely collapsed on itself! It took half an hour to convince Jazz that they weren't trying to use it to make Danny normal, just using it for themselves now that they know it can cause... strange things, to happen.

Danny drinks the bottle with no issue, and burps as soon as she starts his back. Really, he's a pretty easy baby. Except for the ghost part.

Maddie is getting him back in the stroller when Danny's face screws up. She watches a cold, visible breath leave his mouth, and then he starts to scream. Sobbing, wailing baby screams, attracting the concerned and/or annoyed attention of most people around them.

"He's just tired," she assures loudly. His breath is still puff out in cold clouds, even though it's perfectly warm in the mall.

Maddie quickly picks him back up and hugs him, bouching and singing to try and calm him down.

Danny starts to quiet down. She puts him back in the stroller, but as soon as she does (as soon as he looks behind her with those bright, bright green eyes) he starts crying again.

She sighs and picks him up, hurrying back to the car. She'll just come back for the parts later. Clearly, something is upsetting him.

Something that she just can't see.

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

Jazz leans away from Danny, grinning. "There!"

Danny is propped up on her bed. Maddie and Jack needed to quickly decontaminate themselves, and so Jazz had to watch Danny for just a minute.

And in that minute, she's does some redesigning.

Danny's fluffy white hair has a little bow in it, and she's put some of her kiddie makeup on him.

Danny disappears for a second, and the bow falls. When he reappears, it's not on his head anymore. He looks at Jazz blankly.

Jazz crosses her arms. "No fair! I was making you pretty!"

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

Maddie stumbles into Danny's room. She flicks on the light, and turns off the Fenton Ghost-Shielding Hanging Mobile. She reaches in and pulls the crying Danny out of the bassinet, shushing and rocking him.

Danny's eyes are bright green again, and Maddie can see his breath. "Oh, you always get so worked up when this happens," she says softly. "Is the cold upsetting you?"

Danny doesn't answer, just cries more.

Maddie takes him to her and Jack's room, and lays down with him on her chest. Jack rolls over in his sleep and puts his arms around her, cradling both of them.

Danny falls back asleep soon, and Maddie sighs. She can still see his breath, but at least he's calm now.

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

Jazz holds up her drawing, and shakes her head. She goes back to scribbling, and moves closer to Danny. "This is black," she says to him, pointing at the crayon she's using. She picks up another color. "And this one is red."

Danny stares as Jazz keeps scribbling. Jazz assumes that means he's learning.

"I'm going to let Mom and Dad know I saw this in my closet," she says seriously. "I think people know you're special and want to steal you!"

Danny blows a spit bubble by accident, and laughs when it pops.

Jazz's eyes hold more determination than ever. She scribbles with the fury of a million warriors. "You're very valuable." She learned that word yesterday. "So you need lots of protecting."

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

"Do you think this will make her feel better?" Maddie asks as she closes the panel.

Jack lifts his soldering mask and nods. "If one thing can make a person feel safe, it's fifty anti-ghost devices hidden in their walls!"

"I just worry about that doodle. What if something really got in?"

"Mads, you personally handcrafted every single sensor put up in the kids's rooms! If a ghost had gotten in, we'd know! To get past then they'd need deep knowledge of exactly how our deigns work and how they detect ghost energy, and no ghost has that!"

"You're right, you're right. Still, I hate to think she might be having nightmares about something like that. It looked like it had devil horns."

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

"Peek-a-boo!" Jazz grins at Danny. "Peek-a-boo!"

It never gets old for him! No matter how many times they play, Danny loves it!

"Peek... a-boo!" Jazz does little jazz-hands.

Danny disappears, and Jazz grins. "Where's Danny? Where'd he go?"

Danny reappears, and-

"B-b-boo!"

Jack and Maddie dart into the room! Maddie swoops Danny up, eyes wide!

Danny giggles, and says it again. "Boo!"

Maddie and Jackie both tear up. In unison they shout, "HIS FIRST WORD!"

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

Danny gnaws on the toy with his little baby gums.

"I can't believe it. Already teething," Maddie sighs, holding him. "Seems like only yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital."

Jack wipes his eyes. "He's growing into a young man already."

"Oh, Jack, stop it, he's not nearly a young man."

"But he will be before we know it!"

Maddie pats her husband on the back comfortingly as he begins to blubber.

Maddie closes her eyes, thinking about those early months with Danny, figuring out how to prepare for his floating and invisibility, learning to not panic when his eyes and hair changed color, learning that sometimes when they do his clothes change color as well...

She's startled out of her thought by something warm and wet on her lap.

She looks down to see the teething toy on her thigh... and a whole lot of nothing where Danny's head should be.

Then it' back when she blinks, and he's beginning to whine for his toy.

She quickly picks him up off her laps and retrieves it, giving it back to him.

So... the ghost abilities are still developing, then. She'll have to let Jack know about this later.

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

"Daniel Fenton," Jack says, the most serious Jazz has ever seen him, "You're in big trouble this time, mister. I don't know how you did this-"

Jack shakes the empty tube of baby snacks, safe for teething babies.

"But I will get to the bottom of it!"

"Look like he already did," Maddie jokes, setting Jazz's breakfast down for her.

Jazz laughs, because it sounds like a Smart Adult Joke and she thinks those are funny, even when she doesn't understand them.

Danny babbles, smacking his chair's food tray.

"Oh no you don't, mister! You're getting regular baby food this morning and that's all!" Jack grabs the jar of food, and holds up the spoon. "Now, here comes the Fenton Ghost-Tracking Copter!"

He puts the spoon up to Danny's mouth-

-and right through his head.

He gasps and pulls back, and Danny's head reappears. He babbles, smacking the tray again.

Maddie drops her fork. "I can't believe I forgot! That's what I was going to tell you about!"

Jazz looks at her parents. "You didn't know he does this?"

They both gawk at her. "You did?!"

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

Danny reaches up and grabs Jazz's nose. Jazz wrinkles it, and he laughs.

Jazz sticks out her tongue and crosses her eyes, and Danny laughs even harder!

Jazz looks at her parents as they finish setting up the picnic blanket. "I'm the funniest big sister ever!"

"You sure are, sweetie!" Maddie scoops Jazz up and gives her a kiss on the cheek. "You get it from me."

Jack laughs. "It's true! Your mother could get the whole Ghost Hunting Club laughing out HAZMAT suits off all day long back in the day! ... 'Course it was just the three of us, but still, three's a crowd!"

"May as well have been doing stand-up," Maddie says, setting Jazz down on the blanket.

They enjoy the little outing, the sun shining but not beating down, the cool breeze just enough to crispen the air but not freeze.

And then Jazz looks at Danny. She sees glowing eyes, and a puff of breath come out of his mouth. "Uh-oh. Mommy! He's gonna cry!"

Maddie picks Danny up right as he starts to wail. She hugs him, and is shocked. He doesn't feel cold this time!

Is he just cold inside?

Or is there some other problem?

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

Jack rubs his ears. "That child wails like a Banshee!"

"He could very well be doing exactly that," Maddie points out. "We still don't know what other abilities he'll develop as he ages!"

"Or how well he'll be able to control them. ... Mads... should we homeschool him?"

"It's a little early to worry about that, Jack."

"I know that tone, you're worrying about it too."

"... We can't just keep him isolated from the rest of the world, Jack. It'll be unhealthy for him. And what if it makes him lean into his ghost side too much?"

"So you think we should let him go to school."

"Yes. ... But not pre-school. We'll teach him to not use his abilities around other kids, and then send him to Kindergarten."

"... Alright, Mads. If you think that's what's best, then that's what's best!"

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

"Come on, that's it! Yes, yes, WHOO!" Maddie picks Danny up as soon as he walks over. "Who's a strong little Fenton? Who's the best little boy at walking in the whole wide world?"

"Danny!" Jazz cheers from the couch.

"Danny!" Maddie and Jack both cheer at once.

Danny laughs and squeals, kicking his legs and flapping his arms. His first proper Walk! Not just a step or two and then crawling, that was real walking!

Jack takes Danny, holding him aloft. "You're a real butt-kicker in the making, son! You'll be as strong as your old man someda-"

Jack feels something bump him, hard.

He shouts as he goes down! Danny going with him!

But as Jack meets the floor, he feels Danny's weight disappear from his hands!

He lands with an "oof", and looks up to see Danny floating above him, surrounded by a faint white aura. Danny looks down and babbles, sucking his thumb. Then... he moves.

He's only ever floated in place before. But as he looks down at his dad, he kicks his little legs and moves! Moving right across the room!

And then he looks behind his dad, and his breath comes out in puffs. He starts crying and wailing hysterically.

Jazz peers at where Danny is looking. "Mommy, hit the air with the stick!"

Maddie gently grabs Danny. "Why, sweetie?"

"Danny is scared! So we have to protect him!"

Maddie grabs her Fenton Baton, and gives the area Danny was looking at a good thwack. She expects it to go right through the empty air.

Instead there's a loud zap! There's a cry of pain! And then a semi-transparent form zooming out of their house!

Maddie's jaw drops. Jack scrambles to his feet and grabs every ghost weapon in radius, forming a protective circle around the family with them!

Maddie looks at Danny, who's now calm.

And his breath isn't visible.

Hmm...

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

"We're just seeing if my hypothesis is right," Maddie assures.

Jazz sobs, clinging onto her leg. "NOOOO! HE'LL GET HURT! OR STOLED!"

"Stolen, sweetie. And Mommy and Daddy would never let that happen."

Jazz scream-sobs again.

"What if we can promise you the ghost will be in a big, big box?"

Jazz looks at her mom with watery eyes. "Like around Danny's crib?"

"Yes, like that."

"But-but he's so little."

"It'll just be a second, sweetheart."

Jazz sniffles again. "... Can I hold the stick?"

Maddie smiles softly. "Yes, sweetie, you can hold the stick."

A couple hours later, Jack and Maddie return home with a ghost in a box. It's yelling something, but the box is soundproof.

Jack sets the box down, and goes to grab Danny. He comes back, and holds Danny firmly while walking towards the ghost. Danny's eyes are covered by a too-big hood on his little shirt. He can't see, or hear, that there's a ghost nearby.

Danny's breath comes out a visible puff about two feet away from the ghost, and he starts crying. Jack steps back a ways, and Danny's breaths become normal again. He settles down.

Jack walks closer. Puff of breath, and crying.

Jack steps back. Normal breath, calm Danny.

"He can sense ghost's," Maddie says, looking in awe at her baby boy. Her face breaks into a grin. "He's his own portable ghost detector! He'll never be caught unawares, he'll be able to always defend himself!"

She runs up to Jack and hugs them both, kissing Danny's little forehead. Danny babbles.

"He'll never be caught unawares," Maddie says again in relief. "Oh, this makes me feel so much better."

"Mommy? ... Does that mean we're haunted all the time?"

Maddie's relief hardens and breaks in her chest.

All those times Danny's Ghost Sense has gone off inside! All those times!

She pulls away. "Jack, we're upping our security!"

Jack nods. "Time for FentonWorks 2.0!"

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

Danny giggles as his dad chases him around the house. He phases through doors and turns invisible in hiding places, always giving himself away with laughter.

Jack grabs Danny just before he phases through the next door. “Gotcha!”

Danny laughs, happy little kid squeals that you can hear through the whole house. Jack puts Danny on his shoulders and heads into the kitchen. “He’s getting pretty good at running! Say, whatcha making, Mads?”

“Meatloaf. Would you mind helping?”

Jack sets Danny down at the table and helps Maddie make dinner, while Danny eyes something on the counter.

“Cookie.”

Maddie looks over. Danny is staring at the cookie jar. “No sweetie, no cookies yet.”

“Cookie!” 

“Not yet.”

Danny starts to cry. “Cookie!”

Maddie walks over, and gives Danny his binkie. Danny refuses it af first, but once he has it he calms down fast.

He looks at the cookie jar still, though.

And, slowly, he lifts out of his chair. He kicks his little legs, pushing himself forward. He plops down on the counter, and reaches into the jar with an intangible hand. 

He pulls out not one, but two cookies!

He gets so excited that he starts waving his arms, making happy noises.

Jack looks over. “What? Maddie, he’s gotten into the cookie jar!”

“I’ve got it!” Maddie walks over and scoops Danny up in his old Anti-Ghost-Phasing Blanket. Soft, warm, and totally ghost-proof.

Danny whines. “Cookie!”

“I said not yet, honey.” Maddie grabs the cookies and puts them on the counter. She safety pins the blanket around Danny like a little cape, except it takes away his powers.

Danny sits in his chair, throwing a fit! But to no avail. Eventually he just sits there, tear-faced and angry.

And then Jazz walks in. She looks over at the cookies, and then at Danny.

She walks over and snatches them off the counter as quick as she can! She casually walks over to the table, and hands them to Danny.

Danny brightens up. He shoves one cookie in his mouth, and gives the other back to Jazz. His original intention.

Jazz smiles, and scarfs the cookie down just before Maddie turns around.

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

“Why?” Danny looks at his mom with wide, innocent eyes.

Maddie’s heart aches. “People might get scared.”

Danny frowns. “Scawy?”

“No, no, you aren’t scary. But the... idea of ghosts, for a lot of people, can be scary.”

Danny thinks, and then walks over to the fridge. “Scawy.”

Maddie looks at the drawing Danny is pointing at. It’s Jazz’s drawing of The Ghost.

The one that’s been haunting them for months.

Black horns, it looks like. Red eyes. Deathly blue skin. It makes Maddie shiver, knowing it had direct access to her children for so long. 

Danny starts to cry. “I scawy!”

Maddie scoops him up. “No, no sweetie! You are nothing like that monster, nothing like it at all! And you never will be, I promise!” Maddie hugs him tightly. “Oh, my poor baby... how about we take a break? Do you want to help Jazz paint something?”

Danny sniffles, and nods. They head upstairs, leaving the talk for another day.

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

“Kindergarten, Jack,” Maddie says, packing the little lunch box. “He’s already in Kindergarten!”

Jack is already openly sobbing as he makes Jazz a sandwich.

“Do you think he understands what he needs to do?” Maddie asks no-one in particular, just worrying.

“He understands perfectly!”

Maddie jumps a little, and turns around to see Jazz smiling proudly. Danny stands right next to her, a shyer smile on his face. Maddie tears up at the sight of him with his little backpack and school outfit on. 

Jazz looks at Danny. “Go ahead! Show them what we practiced!”

Danny puffs out his chest to look strong. “I won’t go through anything, turn invi-invisi- um, turn not-seeing-me, I won’t fly, and, um... and if I feel another ghost, I’ll use this!” He pulls his little Fenton Emergency Pager out of his pocket.

Maddie wipes her eyes. “Perfect, honey,” she says, letting the pride seep into her voice. “Oh, my baby boy! Growing up so fast!” She picks him up and kisses his face. Danny wraps his arms around her neck.

“Do I have to go, mommy? They’ll think I’m scary.”

“Oh, honey. You aren’t scary, I promise.”

“... What if I need to be scary?”

“Mommy will come be scary for you.”

“She very good at it,” Jack chimes in, shivering a little as he remembers the time a ghost attacked while Maddie was buying Danny’s first pair of little shoes. By the time it was over, Jack almost pitied the thing.

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

Maddie gives Danny one last hug. “Remember, calls u anytime you need us, okay?”

He nods. “I love you, Mommy. I love you, Daddy. I love you, Jazz.”

“You’re just going to school, not saying bye forever.” Even as Jazz says it, her lip wobbles and her voice cracks.

Danny floats up to the car window give her a hug, before being quickly held up by Maddie to cover the power use.

“That’s the only time today you’ll do that,” she reminds him. 

Danny nods.

Eventually... the goodbyes are done being dragged out. Danny’s family drives away as the teacher leads him inside.

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

Danny sits on a swing by himself, not sure what to do.

Usually at home he plays using his powers. He doesn’t know how to be good at tag without making it so people can’t touch him, or how to play hide-and-seek without turning invisible.

He kicks the sand. This is stupid. He misses Jazz. He can play with her.

“Hi.”

Danny looks up. Another young boy is standing in front of him, holding some kind of electronic. The boy holds out his hand. “I’m Tucker.”

Danny shakes his hand, focusing very hard on keeping it a real hand. “I’m Danny.”

Tucker shows him the electronic. “Want to play my game?"

Danny looks at it. It’s a coloring game. He nods.

They pass it back and forth between each other for a while, both coloring in different parts of the same picture. 

Eventually it’s time to back in. Danny and Tucker ask if they can sit closer together.

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

“So, how was it?” Maddie asks, gripping the steering wheel tightly as she picks Danny up. “Have fun?”

“I made a friend!” Danny yells! “His name is Tucker and he’s really nice!”

Maddie relaxes. “Oh? How did you meet?”

“He let me play his coloring game!”

“That’s wonderful!”

“We made a tower out of blocks and it was the strongest ever! And I never used my powers!”

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie!”

Maybe Maddie can stop worrying now. ... Probably not.

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

“What if we gave it big scary horns?” Danny says as he doodled something in crayon. “Like the thing that watches my window.”

Tucker looks at him with wide eyes. “A monster watches you?”

“My parents don’t let it touch me. They hunt ghosts.”

“Oh. Do you hunt ghosts?”

Danny shakes his head. “I’m too little.”

“Oh. Me too.”

“You should give it bat wings.”

They both look up. The quiet girl who usually sits in the back is standing in front of them, her hair pulled back in a tight black braid and her clothes perfectly pressed. 

Danny looks at the drawing, and nods. He adds the wings. “We’re drawing the monster from that story we heard today.”

The girl sits down. “I bet it had claws. And could breathe black fire!”

Danny adds them on. “You’re really smart!”

The girl nods. “I am.”

“I’m Danny.”

“I’m Tucker!”

The girl grins. “I’m Samatha.”

“Wow... that’s a long name,” Danny says, eyes wide. “My sister has a long name too. Do all girls have long names?”

Samantha thinks. “I dunno. I haven’t met all girls.”

“Oh. We don’t know all boys, either.”

They spend the rest of free time coloring. Once it’s over, Samantha moves to sit with them.

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

“So, how was today, sweetie?”

“I made another friend! She’s really good, and her parents make her have long hair but she wants it short, and we made this with her!” He shows Maddie the drawing.

Maddie grimaces a little, but turns it into a smile. “It’s lovely, dear. Looks... a little like Jazz’s picture.”

Danny nods.”The monster in the story lived in the window. So does this ghost.”

“... What?”

“He lives by my window. But he can’t come inside, so I make faces at him and make him mad.”

Maddie speeds up a little. “Danny, we’re going to be altering your windows when we get home. Okay?”

“Okay.”

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

Danny leads Sam and Tucker to his room with his tiny arms full of snacks. He brings them inside, and proudly stands in the middle. “This is my room!”

"Cool!” Tucker exclaims. “Whoa, you have a computer?”

Danny shakes his head. “That’s to keep ghosts out. Ghosts hate us.”

“You’ve seen some?” Samantha asks, eyes wide.

Danny grins. “So many!”

“Can we see some?”

“Sure, I can even-”

They hear a gasp in the doorway. Turning to look, they see Jazz. “Danny, you didn’t let me meet your friends!”

Danny looks horrified. “Oh no!” He runs over and pulls Jazz into the room. “This is my big sister Jazz! She’s the coolest big sister!”

“I’m Tucker!”

“I’m Sam!”

Jazz grins. “Guess what I learned yesterday?” She points out of the room. “How to use the remote!”

The trio of toddler’s eyes sparkle. They cheer for Jazz as all of them descend, ready to Take Control Of The TV!

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

“-and this is The Box Ghost,” Danny says, showing his friends the doodle him and Jazz made at home. “He’s silly. He wants to be scary, but he isn’t.”

Tucker and Samantha nods like it the most important thing they’ll ever learn.

Danny pulls out the next drawing. “This is Scary, the ghost from my window.” It’s a new drawing, a little more detailed thanks to Jazz being better at drawing now. And Danny having seen the face so, so many times. “I don’t see him anymore. Mom and Dad kicked him out of the window.”

“He’s ugly,” Samantha says, wrinkling her nose. 

“He looks stinky,” Tucker agrees.

Danny looks over at the window. “Shhhh! He’s here!”

Tucker and Samantha look at the window. They see nothing.

They look back at Danny. They see little puffs coming out of his mouth, and his eyes are the wrong color.

Danny pulls his pager out. “It’s okay. Mommy will come scare him away.”

“We can’t see him,” Samantha says.

Danny nods. “He’s hard to see.”

“Do you have to have glowy eyes like yours?” Tucker asks. “I have to have glasses. Are your eyes like Ghost Glasses?”

Danny thinks, and then nods. “I guess so. ... OH NO!” He covers his eyes. “You aren’t supposed to see that!”

“Why not?”

“Mommy said it’s a secret! You’ll think I’m scary!”

“But it’s not scary.”

Danny tilts his head, still covering his eyes. “It’s not?”

“No, it’s cool!”

He slowly uncovers his eyes. “... Do... you think this is scary?” He holds out his arm, and makes it invisible.

Tucker and Samantha gasp! Danny pulls his arm back, about to cry. They think he’s scary, they won’t be his friends anymore-

“That’s so cool,” Samantha says.

“I wanna do that!” Tucker exclaims.

Danny can’t believe it for a second. And then he grins. “I can do more stuff too! I’ll show you at my house!”

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

Maddie paces the floor while Danny sits on the couch, his little face burning with shame.

Jazz sits next to him, arms crossed. Jack stands in front of him, Maddie pacing beside her husband.

“You told your friends?” Maddie asks again.

Danny nods, keeping his head low. “I didn’t mean to. I saw Scary, and my eyes turned green, and I can’t fix that.”

Maddie sighs. “I know, sweetie, but you showed them more after! We caught you flying them around your room! How can you even carry both of them at once?!”

“It’s easy when I’m a ghost,” he says, still keeping his head low. “Everything’s easy when I’m a ghost.”

Maddie stops pacing. “Oh, sweetie... I know it must be strange for you to suddenly have to hide it.”

Danny nods. He sniffles a little.

“It’s for your own safety, son,” Jack says. “You understand that, right? We just want you to be safe.”

“Other kids can be mean, Danny,” Jazz says. “I’m smart, and some kids are mean to me for that.”

“But Samantha and Tucker aren’t mean!”

“No, they aren’t,” Maddie concedes. “... I guess what’s done is done. Danny?” She kneels down in front of him and gently lifts his head up, wiping his tears away. “We aren’t mad. We’re worried. They’re your friends, but they also don’t understand this the way we do.”

“... Can you make them understand?”

Maddie nods. “We’ll absolutely have a talk with them. You can go get them from your room right now, even. But Danny? No-one else. Okay? These two kids are the only kids you will ever tell. Promise?”

Danny nods, still sniffling. “Promise.”

Maddie puts on her HAZMAT glove and holds out her pinkie. “Fenton promise?”

Danny links her pinkie with his, letting it go ghostly. “Fenton promise, Mommy.”

“Okay. You can send your friends down now.”

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

Danny waits for his mom to come pick him up, Samantha and Tucker sitting next to him.

Samantha looks up suddenly. “I don’t like my name.”

Danny and Tucker look at her.

She stands up. “From now on, my name is... is Sam!”

Danny and Tucker clap, because they learned that’s the polite thing to do when someone has a dramatic moment like this. They learned it from watching the older kids do a play.

Sam sits back down. “I’m Sam,” she says happily. “Sam.”

“Sam is a good name,” Danny says. 

“Easier to write,” Tucker says. 

“Yeah.” Sam is very proud of her new name.

They wait a bit longer, and a long black car pulls up. Sam stands up, but her parents don’t step out.

A tall, white-haired man does, one none of them have ever met before. He smiles down at them. “Hello, Danny. Hello, Danny’s friends.”

“Who are you?” 

“I’m a friend of Danny’s parents,” he says, giving a slight bow (or maybe just bending over to hear them better since they’re so much shorter than him). 

“I don’t know you,” Danny says, accusatory. “Mrs. Emma told us about people like you!”

The Man shakes his head. “I’m not a stranger, I promise. Your parents and I are very close.”

“I don’t know you,” Danny says again. He steps between The Man and his friends. “I’m gonna tell Mrs. Emma on you.”

“Danny, really, your mother called and asked me to pick you up.”

“You liar! She always picks me up!”

“She’s fighting a ghost right now.”

“She leaves fights to come get me!”

The Man sighs. He grabs Danny’s arm. “Stubborn like your parents. Come on, I promise you’ll be fine.”

“NO!” Danny yanks his arm, trying to get away. “LET GO OF ME!”

“Stop making a scene!”

“LET GO! YOU-”

Danny gaps, a puff of breath coming out and his eyes turning green.

“S-Scary,” he whimpers. “SCARY! MOMMY! MOMMMYYYY! SCARY HAS ME!!! HELP!!!”

Danny yanks again, Tucker and Sam finally running inside to get Mrs. Emma! 

The Man scowls. “I’m trying to help you, little badger!”

“YOU’RE THE SCARY IN THE WINDOW!” Danny looks at him with bright eyes, tearful and afraid. “GET AWAY!!!”

Danny’s little hand glows green, and suddenly The Man is clutching his stomach instead of Danny’s arm. Danny runs inside, right into Mrs. Emma’s arms. He sobs to her as she frantically calls the police, trying to read the plate of the car speeding off into the distance.

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

Maddie hands Jazz a Baton. “This is in case this ‘Scary’ come after you,” Maddie says, still shaking a bit. “Okay?”

Jazz nods. 

“Danny, this is for you.” Maddie hands him a black-and-white suit. “This is to keep other ghosts from sensing you, okay? So wear it under your clothes.”

Danny nods, still crying.

Maddie looks at Sam and Tucker. Their parents were late picking them up, but with the attempted kidnapping it was decided that they’ll stay with The Fentons for a few hours until their parents could get them.

“You two get these.” She hands them Fenton Pagers, and Fenton Fun-Sized Ghost Stunners. “They can hurt people too, so only use them on ghosts. Or if someone tries to do... what you saw today, ever again.”

Sam and Tucker nod.

“And Danny? From now on, wait with Mrs. Emma until we come inside to get you.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“And when I get my hands on this ‘Scary’, I promise you’ll never have to worry about him again.”

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

Danny looks around to see if anyone is watching. He, Tucker, and Sam are crouched under a desk in the classroom while everyone else is out at recess. 

He holds out his hand to the stack of paper, and closes his eyes. For a second, nothing happens.

And then it glows green, and a small beam shoots from his hand! Tucker and Sam gasp!

“You’re like a superhero!” Tucker exclaims, standing up. 

“A ghost superhero!” Sam says, standing up too. “You need a superhero name!”

Danny shoots up, smiling widely. “What should it be?”

They all think for a long, long time.

Sam perks up. “I know!”

She grabs a book from the corner. The book is a Halloween one, mostly for pictures with just a few words. She flips to a page, and points to it. “This word! It means Ghost!”

Danny and Tucker peer at it. “How do you say it?” Tucker asks.

Sam grins. “Phantom!”

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

“Phantom?” Maddie says, looking at the doodle.

Jack nods. “Apparently Sam came up with it! Our boy wants to be a ghost hunter after all!”

“Superhero, this says.”

“Same thing!”

“Jack, what’re you making there?”

Jack holds up the suit, one of the prototype Anti-Ghost-Detection suits for Danny. “I got out my old needlepointing stuff and am making him a superhero costume! See, it’s a P!”

Maddie squints, trying to get a better look at the outline. “It looks like a D.”

Jack looks at it. “Hmm. I guess from some angles. But it’s a P! Or, DP! Danny Phantom!”

Maddie’s expression goes soft. “Awww! Okay, you keep making that, and I’ll hang this doodle on the fridge! But no actual ghost fighting until he’s at least fourteen, right?”

“Absolutely!”

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

Danny steps into the school “Halloween Party” with his hands on his hips and a bright grin, looking like a mini-version of his dad behind him.

“Aww, and what are you dressed as, Danny?” Mrs. Emma asks.

“A superhero ghosthunter!” Danny says proudly. “My parents made this for me!”

“It’s great,” Mrs. Emma says genuinely. “Alright, go mingle! We’re going to make paper jack-o-lanterns later so now is the time to trade candies!”

Danny walks over to his friends, still striking the pose. Tucker, dressed as a robot made out of cardboard boxes, pouts in slight jealousy as Danny comes over. Sam, dressed as a vampire, grins. “P for Phantom!” she yells.

Danny runs over faster. “Yeah! My dad put the logo on!” He shows it off proudly. “I’m gonna be the best ghosthunter ever!”

“You can work from the inside!” Tucker says, getting over his jealousy thankfully quick. “Make them think you wanna haunt stuff too!”

“Yeah!” Danny strikes another pose. “But I’m actually going to catch them all, because I’m Danny Phantom!”

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

Danny and Jazz are playing with dolls in the living room. “Pow! Take that!” Danny shouts, making his doll punch Jazz’s.

“Nooo!” Jazz cries out in a husky voice. “But how? I’m The Scary! Nothing can not fear me!”

“I don’t fear you!” Danny waves the hand of his doll, making laser noises. Jazz shakes her doll around, making dying noises. “I’m Danny Phantom, the strongest ghost boy ever!”

“Nooooo!”

Maddie chuckles, watching them. “That Scary better watch out for more than just us.”

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

“Where are we going?” Danny asks again.

“It’s a surprise!” Jack says again, still as excited as when the road trip started. 

Danny huffs, looking out the window again. “Why couldn’t Sam and Tucker come?”

“Because they’re spending Summer visiting their families,” Maddie says. “And so are we, sort of.”

“I though Auntie lived in Spittoon,” Jazz says.

“She does! This is different.”

After hours (years in the minds of the kids), they pull up to a mansion. All fo the boredom washes away instantly, Jazz and Danny cramming into the window to see it!

“Are we rich?” Jazz demands to know. 

“We’re well-off, but not quite. Welcome to your honorary Uncle Vlad’s house!” Maddie cheers.

“Vlad was out best friend in college!” Jack says, grinning. “He got back in contact with us a few years ago and we’ve been thick as thieves since! He asked us too come over this weekend, and we thought we’d surprise him and let him meet your two at the same time!”

Danny and Jazz cheer! THEY GET TO STAY IN A MANSION!

The family piles out of the car, and stand in front of the door! Maddie and Jack make sure Jazz and Danny look extra nice, and ring the doorbell!

It takes a long minute, so they ring it again!

Finally, a man opens it up! “Oh, Maddie, Jack, I’m so sorry I didn’t hear-”

Danny shrieks. His eyes are glowing bright as they can, his breaths giant puffs! He holds up his hand and send a little beam right into Vlad’s side!

Vlad falls back with an “Oof!”

“Danny!” Maddie scoops him up. “What on earth has gotten into you? Oh, Danny!”

Danny is sobbing pointing at Vlad. “It-it’s him! The-The Scary! He-he tried to take me!”

Maddie and Jack freeze. Slowly, they both look at Vlad. Jazz pulls out her Baton.

“Vlad?” Maddie says coldly.

“Didn’t I only invite you two?” Vlad wheezes.

Jack points a ghost detector at Vlad. It goes off.

“Now, now, I can explai- AGCK!”

Jazz starts happening him with the Baton before he can finish his sentence. Maddie hands Danny to Jack. “Sweetie, close the door and take Danny back to the truck. I need to have a word with Vlad.”

Jack does as told, holding Danny in his lap and soothing him.

“He-he tried to take me,” Danny sobs again.

“Don’t worry, son.” Jack hugs him tightly. “No-one’s ever going to be able to do that. We’ll always keep you safe. We promise.”

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

“And what do we always wear while testing new devices?” Maddie asks, handing Danny a Fenton Ghost-Zapper that would use Danny’s own ghost energy to work.

Danny grins, and puts it on. “Face mask!”

“Because?”

“Because lab safety is very important!”

Maddie grins. “That’s right! And who do we thank for reminding us of that every time we’re in the lab?”

Danny points. “Jazz! Thank you, Jazz!”

Jazz grins proudly. 

[genshinboys]

Going out on a date with Genshin boys - Childe

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Childe x gn reader

„I could just push your underwear to the side and finger-fuck you till you come all over yourself.”

That’s what he whispers into your ear while you’re on your spontaneous beach date. Lying comfortably on the blanket, the rays of sunshine skim all over your back, making you feel a bit too warm to your liking. Or perhaps, it’s not Liyue’s weather that causes your skin to heat up and cheeks to burn as if you were going to combust on the date with the harbinger.

„Don’t say such things!” You chastise him, eyes boring into his amused cerulean orbs.

He laughs merrily, his hands travelling up and down the back of your thighs, merely ghosting over the flesh with the very tips of his fingers. Your skin erupts in goosebumps, and you clasp your thighs together quivering defencelessly.

„Oh, but I know you like it, Doll.” Childe’s hand slyly sneaks under your underwear, and he squishes your ass cheek humming in delight. „Good girls/boys don’t lie. Haven’t we already talked about this?” His seductive whisper sounds more like an unspoken threat. He massages the meat of your ass, plays with it, kneading it like a fresh dough, fascinated by the reactions he wrings out of you. Your muscles tightening every time he slides his long fingers between the crack of your butt.

„Childe, we can’t do it here, plea--,” the harbinger cuts you short by pressing against the rim of your hole.

„I can do whatever I want, Doll.” Childe proves his point by slipping his finger into you. It’s still moderately shallow. Your walls suck his digit in like it was made to fit in there, but he doesn’t want to hurt you. The boy gently presses against your entrance, dipping in with the very fingertip to let you adjust to the intrusion. You choke on your moan, dreading that someone might hear you.

Childe is incredibly proud of himself. He did manage to sweet-talk you into wearing one of his shirts today. It reaches your mid-thigh.

„We’re going to the beach, Baby. You don’t need to put on your trousers, right?” That’s what he said, explaining to you that his shirt will be absolutely enough. The soft smile on his face did not give away his ulterior motive, presently as clear as Liyue’s sky.

He is propping himself on his elbow, his chest neatly pressed to your side as you give him a full view of your back lying on your belly. It’s too easy for him to wreck you when you’re so nicely spread out for him like that. Who is he to say no, after all?

The harbinger notices the brief frown of pain on your face when he buries his finger a bit deeper into your tight core. You mewl weakly, hands clutching onto the blanket you’re lying on.

„Look at you, so delicate.” He coos but his hand retreats and he spits on his palm, wasting no time to push his finger back in where both of you want it. This time it sinks in easily. The harbinger begins pumping his long digit in and on of your clenching hole. His finger is snugly hugged by the warmth of your walls and he purrs imagining how much he would like to fill you up with his hard and thick cock. He loves when you arch your back to allow him to penetrate you better. Childe skilfully hooks his finger and brushes over something deep, deep inside of you. Your body thrashes helplessly and you let out a strangled sob. In the distance, Childe can hear the voices of some children playing in the water.

„Shhh, Doll. You wouldn’t like for others to get to know how dirty you are, huh?” He scolds and immediately shoves the second finger into you. He’s no longer concerned about causing you pain as your cramping muscles and sticky slick gushing down your thighs are enough of an indicator of how close you’re to reach your peak. He picks up his speed, his fingers fuck you stupid and you are ashamed of the obscene sounds coming out of your body. Heat sizzles into your lower abdomen and there is a metallic taste of blood in your mouth due to how much you bite on your lips not wanting to moan out Childe’s name in public.

„I might have exaggerated with the spit, hmm? You made yourself so wet that you’re seeping down the blanket.”

His filthy talk makes you clench your fists in anger, but you can’t deny the coiling sensation in your sex. It’s taking all of your coherence away and you push back to fuck yourself on his fingers. Childe rams into you, mercilessly assaulting your sweet spot. Your breath hitches and you feel yourself convulsing with the rippling desire that is flooding your groin. You’re trembling and writhing. Your vision fades to black with how intensely your orgasm surges through your whole being. Your arousal leaking right under you, making you shiver in discomfort. Head slumping forward, and suddenly you feel like crying. A whimper of shame escapes your abused lips. Childe’s heart sinks in his chest. Your boyfriend immediately picks up on the situation and recognizes the post-orgasm vulnerability that takes the better of you.

„Come here, my Doll.” He picks up your life-less body, and soon you’re sitting in his lap with his arms holding you tightly. Childe nuzzles his nose against your cheek and proceeds to pepper-kiss all over your flushed face, which causes you to giggle.

„Hey, it tickles,” you try to fight back, but Childe does not let you wriggle out of his grip.

„You’re so perfect for me, you know, Doll?” he keeps mumbling these sickeningly sweet things until he’s sure that his love is the only thing you can think about at this point.

Other boys:

Albedo

Kaeya

Diluc

Kazuha

Xiao

Zhongli

Other series:

Thigh job with Genshin boys

[cookietroop]

(Make sure you thank the song that inspire me, Top of my School by Katherine Lynn-Rose)

Top of the Subway ( Self Aware! Ingo x Reader)

Ingo was saddened today, his darling was not online at the moment. He could see her stressed out mind, she was working on her review that her professor assigned and she started to break down. He knew that she was stressing out, having the responsibility of the oldest child, to carry the burden of getting a job, completing assignments without fail and with perfection.

He could only watch as she finished and sighing with relief looking over the review with a sad smile, then a voice was heard, her mother demanding that she must watch the younger siblings, he could only glare and give his darling a pitiful frown.

He knows how much she hated her mother, how she hated when her mother would leave her with too much responsibility that she was supposed to have. But no, she was the double, that daughter that was supposed to be perfect.

He saw as she went downstairs and bringing up a little toddler and a baby all wrapped up in a blanket. The baby cried and the girl could only try to soothe her with words as the toddler had a red face, showing her that they were about to cry as well. He saw as she quickly distracted the toddler with his stuffed lion and the baby with a pacifier.

She could only silently watch them carefully as she placed the baby in a crib and place the sleepy toddler on her bed before returning to her desk and began reading up her review and drilling it in her mind.

She soon had a sour look before grabbing at her hair and silently saying curses to her mother, saying that she was tired of this life, she was tired of being her mother’s replacement, her selfish desire of being herself, and a wish that she could just be with someone who truly loved her not for her pay or anything from her.

Ingo clenched his fists, he couldn’t just ignore your wish, he wanted to be there with you, for you to not work a day in your life, to be happy with him and only him.

That night as you went to sleep, Ingo finally broke out of his digital prison, seeing you in the flesh was a temptation itself but Ingo focused on his main objective and quickly rushed downstairs.

That morning you woke up 5:00 am, your usual time to wake up, you got downstairs after you got ready to see a packed lunch with a small sticky note attached to it saying,”Have a Pleasurable Day!” Neatly written with a small smiley face.

You were confused by this but when you saw that it was packed with your favorites, you oblige and quickly grabbed it and went to school.

For the next first few months, your locker was always filled with a letter staying sweet words and gave you many compliments, always ending with a beautiful written ‘I’ at the end.

Your friends teased you and started to try and find out who was sending the letters, but you already knew some of the people with I, but they didn’t have the same neat handwriting, and plus it had a sort of scent that you liked but didn’t know what it was. But you liked the letters and they even brought you a sort of giddiness.

The second few months now the letter was accompanied by small but grand gifts, a small gift box with your favorite color, sweets that you loved, and even stuffed animals with a small ribbon. Now your friends were really wanting to find out who was the secret admirer.

But soon word spread and then the popular girls stepped in and they were jealous of your secret admirer.

“How could he even like you? A shameful loser! A bitch who doesn’t even know how to be beautiful!” Laughed the leader of the popular group, you could only stand there as they began to shout insults and telling you to hang yourself. They began to rip the present out of your clutches and you were desperate for them to give it back but they began to beat you but you somehow managed to get away because of your friends calling the teacher just in time.

You cried when you were in the restroom, you didn’t want to give away the only love you had, the affection that you made you feel wanted, the soft and charming words that were written in clean handwriting, you didn’t want to give it up. You just couldn’t.

The next day when you were approaching your locker, the popular girls were watching your every move as you opened your locker, and you saw a small letter, it was the same type of letter that he would always make, you opened the letter up to see the content of it, and read it quickly and quietly as you felt the popular girls glares of envy and evil.

‘My Dearest (Name),

It Pains me to know that you suffer from my love for you, how much of your tears have stabbed me, Please give me a chance to reveal myself. Tonight, at your house I’ll visit, I must not show my face for I must remain a mystery for your safety, but I’ll give you a gift that will help you in your times of need.

- Signed with Love, I

You were surprised by this, he is going to visit you?! In your household!? You felt your heart pumping to your face and a red face was covered by your hands as you quickly shoved the letter in your hidden pocket in your pencil bag.

You could only have a giddy smile with you trying to pass the time and checking the clock every second, your friends asked why the sudden happiness, but all they got was an excuse.

As the final bell rang your ran straight to your home but then you got jumped by the group of popular girls, they began to beat you tear up anything in your backpack and decided to tie you up in the woods and left you only with your phone that was up in the tree, you began to tear up, why when you have a good time did something bad think that it was okay to snatch it away from you?

You cried for hours until you fell unconscious, losing hope for your return and doubting that your mother would even care to look for you.

Ingo looked through your window, you weren’t there, the room was in the same condition, no lights not even your phone was in your usual spot. He quickly went to your school and saw nearby an injured you, full of cuts and bruises, he clenched his fists and had a terrifying anger in his face.

He untied you and gather your things into your kicked backpack, he quickly brought out Chandelure to carry your things as he slowly went to you home, he lovingly laid you down on your bed, he carefully and quickly bandaged you up and gently caress your hand before disappearing into your screen, wondering if Emmet was already calling out search parties.

You woke up looked around to see that you were in your room, you look to see that you were in bandages you were surprised by this, who bandaged you up? Did your mother actually come to the rescue? You quickly gone downstairs after getting ready for another hellish day at school, you saw that a packed lunch was already awaiting you but as you got a little saddened by the fact that there wasn’t a sticky note, you saw one in the lunch bag.

‘My dearest (Name),

I am angered by the fact that those heathens touched you, I did you favor last night, you don’t have to return it. Enjoy my generous gift.

-With Love I.

You were confused about the content of it, a gift? A generous favor? What was it?

As you went to school you saw everyone rushing to the cafeteria, police sirens started to scream, and many police officers started to dash in, detectives, parents, school faculty, everyone was screaming and in shock. Your friend grabbed your hand and dragged you in the cafeteria to see what was going on only for you two to start to look in horror.

The popular girls were hanging from the ceiling with wires, their eyes pure white blood was leaking out and they seem to be trapped in a horrified face screaming.

The police ordered everyone outside and other members started to cover the scene with police tape. The parents were crying, screaming their kids name as policemen pushed them back and trying to get them to calm down.

But how could they? Their kids were hanged by a person they would never suspect.

The school was shut down for the month, news reporters were talking to students, trying to find the exclusive information, few talked, it was uncomfortable the whole situation.

But your mother? She didn’t give a damn about it, only saw it as an opportunity to get free babysitting.

You could only sit there with the traumatizing scene stuck in your mind, was this his doing? Was it your fault? Was this the ‘generous’ gift he wanted you to have? The blood of your tormentors?

You sat there, guilt ridden all over your face, then a doorbell rang, you went downstairs, you saw only pitch black of the night, no one was there, you opened the door and looked to see a letter.

You hesitated to pick it up, but grabbed it and shut the door, locking it.

You felt the hairs on your neck standing on end, someone was watching you! You began to shut the windows and cover the windows and quickly ran upstairs and locking your door.

You began to call the police but there was no internet connection, someone cut off the power! All of the lights instantly turned off, you could only stand there, your stomach turning and twisting in fear until a light appeared from your computer.

Please let me in…… have I done something wrong?|

You saw the keys typing itself, you saw the words, you gulped as you approached the computer and began to type.

What do you think?! You hanged literal people from the cafeteria!|

You heard the door knob jiggling roughly trying to get in, you were caught off guard but the screen began to show new typed words.

They were tormenting you, they had no right to do that, I gave them the punishment they deserve, besides they were hated by everyone.|

Then screens began to appear, all of them were text messages, group chats, everything, it was your classmates! They were saying how they wanted the group to die, how they would gladly give them death and torture them. You began to get furious and began to type up your rage.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! ARE YOU A FUCKING HACKER?! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?! LEAVE ME ALONE!|

Suddenly the computer began to heat up making you recoil from your keyboard, you hissed in pain.

Just let me in dear, you don’t have to worry about anything, just let me have you by my side, you wouldn’t have to graduate from college, have worries about a job or money, you can have a comfortable life, just let me in, I forgive you already.|

The sound stopped, you have the option of have a life without worry, wouldn’t have to take care of mother’s burdens and be with the guy that gave you nothing but sweet words of comfort and help.

But you shook your head and stood firm with your decision.

No ‘I’ or whatever the hell your name is, I will never let you in, you ruined your chance when you killed those girls, just piss off and never even send me another letter or your so called ‘help’, LEAVE. ME. ALONE.|

(Name), I am disappointed that you reject me, seems that I must take care of that, well then, I must be grateful for your mother then for always leaving the key under the doormat. I will see you shortly and we will be together soon enough.|

Click*

You turned around, horror exploded in your mind when you heard footsteps coming from downstairs and it was starting to get louder. Your eyes were darting around and your door knob was turning and your door opened.

Your eyes widened, you didn’t expect a fictional character to be your secret admirer but you still took a chance and dashed to the door, but then the infamous Chandelure used hypnosis and took you out.

You woke up, in a room, tied down to a large bed, Ingo came into the room and saw you awake, he walked up to you and caressed your scars that you had all over from your now dead tormentors. He only tsk in annoyance as he saw that the scars were starting to bleed again, he grabbed a roll of bandages and started to wrap them up.

You try to fight him off or even scream but your mouth only let out a croak, your voice was gone.

“I’m sorry about that, I just had to make sure you wouldn’t be able to leave me and not to let anyone hear that voice of yours.” Said Ingo, you could only shut your mouth and look at him, holding back tears of fear.

Ingo wiped away those tears and kissed your forehead. Then he left, going to work.

Months past and Ingo’s affections started to make you use to it and made you more comfortable with him and it was easier to listen to him.

Now to the present, you were sitting on the couch with ingo who was spooning you.

“Tomorrow I’ll finally introduce you to Emmet, I’m sure he’ll take a liking to you.” Said Ingo, you hummed in acknowledgment.

“And we will finally tell them the good news.” Ingo said, as he held your hand, your finger trapped in a shiny band of gold and a shimmering diamond.

[inkykeiji]

you be the match, i will be your fuse

fluffy anon said: dabi coming home after an absolutely horrid day at work and just needing to be absolutely BABIED by reader (i’m talking cuddling in bed, taking a bath with him and washing his hair then getting out just rubbing his back as he sleeps with his head on your chest)

genre: angst + fluff, laced with just a hint of smut (like two sentences)

notes: aaaah happy birthday dabi!!! this has absolutely nothing to do with your birthday but eeee ily | title cred: sure thing by miguel

warnings: 18+, implied/mentioned death of a child, one instance of implied past physical abuse, self-destructive behaviour + coping mechanisms, co-dependent toxic relationship

words: 3.5k

It’s thundering the day it happens, ferocious growls that rumble through your apartment—a tiny, quaint space you share with Dabi, full of faulty appliances and cracked linoleum—rolling, fluffy grey clouds blanketing the entire sky, swollen with restrained rain droplets as a storm brews within them. Little fingers idly toy with the yellowed pages of your worn pulp fiction novel, flipping through them and bending corners as your eyes search the angry sky, chewing on your cheek.

Dabi should’ve been home by now. It’s not like him to be late without calling, without letting his babygirl know what’s going on—he knows the way you worry, the way you overthink yourself into a frenzy, the way you’re so clingy and needy, teases you about it incessantly and tells you he thinks it’s cute—and a deep sense of dread takes root in the pit of your stomach, dark and bitter and unfurling, quickly spreading throughout the cavity of your chest.

His phone must be off—no, it’s never off, he doesn’t do that anymore, not since you stumbled into his life—his phone must be dead, your repeated calls growing increasingly frequent and urgent every time you’re greeted with the drone of his automatic voicemail.

Something’s wrong, horribly so.

It’s evident the moment he arrives home, scratched brass doorknob slamming against the wall, deepening the crater its left from past incidents of a similar manner.

It infects the air around him, hanging heavy and thick, its dense presence nearly suffocating. His shoulders slump under the pressure, the weight of whatever he’s carrying practically crushing, as he drags his crimson splattered boots through the front door, soles scraping against the cheap hardwood, bringing the putrid scent of charred flesh with him—his or someone else’s, you don’t know.

You swear you can almost see it, this—this thing, this aura, enveloping him in its haughty embrace as his chest heaves under a deep, controlled breath, pausing in the foyer as the door shuts behind him.

Bare feet pad against the floor, your legs moving without your explicit permission, drawn towards him in an almost instinctual manner, the desire to care for, to comfort, burning as it bubbles up in your chest, mixing with that intense sense of trepidation and invading your veins.

He permits you to wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle against him, body going rigid for a moment, still and stiff as marble, before he exhales again, melting into your embrace.

Several questions race through your mind at such a speed that they crash and clash together, becoming nothing more than incoherent jumbled lettering, tiny fingers curling in the fabric of his clothing as you try to pull him closer, nonsensical babbling spilling from your lips. A vacant ghost of a chuckle leaves his lips, nothing more than a simple huff of breath, and he squeezes you closer.

“Bad day?” the words are mumbled against his dirty t-shirt, what was once a pristine white now tarnished with ash and blood. You don’t get a response—you don’t expect one.

He doesn’t talk much, not on days like this.

He doesn’t need to.

Bad days—really bad, terrible, awful days such as this one—are surprisingly rare with Dabi. Sure, he’s had the typical ‘bad’ day before, where someone pisses him off, or he gets into a fight with his superior, but those bad days usually require railing you into your creaky, springy king-sized mattress until you’ve forgotten everything but his name and he’s fucked all of the anger and hatred out of his body.

They are not like this one. No, on days such as this, on days where he’s killed someone he deems to be innocent, someone who—like him—is a victim of heroism, he’s quiet, distant, unpredictable, bordering on unhinged, and you’ve learned to tread with extreme discretion.

But you don’t push, either, resolving to communicate through gentle touches, soft fingertips that run along his tense, broad shoulders and press into the hard coiled muscles, tender fingers that thread through inky tufts of hair, sapphire eyes closing as he hums and leans into the motion like a cat.

It’s only for a second, though, just a moment of weakness before he’s breaking out of your embrace, pushing past you and clearing his throat, glass door to the balcony sliding shut a moment later. 

You don’t follow. You know better than that now, a phantom sting in your cheek serving as a reminder, the resounding sharp sound of glass shattering as it’s hurled at the floor slicing through your mind with such viciousness it makes you wince. 

Instead, you sit. And you wait. Like you’re supposed to, like a good little girl, a book clutched between your quivering hands, unblinking eyes staring at the words on the page, nothing but incomprehensible symbols—lines and lines of black ink in meaningless shapes—as scorching sapphire loops through your mind.

Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl. Give him space. Let him come to you.

It’s standard procedure, really.

And eventually, he does, comes back inside with an empty bottle of whiskey clutched in a hand, along with a crumpled package of cigarettes. You don’t know how long it’s been, muscles sore and joints aching from sitting in the same position for so long, eyes dry from staring at the same page, barely moving, barely breathing. His hand is bleeding, knuckles bruised and gleaming with sticky scarlet that’s still fresh and flowing, but it could be worse. It has been worse.

The harsh clink of the bottle against the kitchen counter makes you flinch, and he sighs, heavy and full of derision, eyes flicking up to glare at your side profile.

“I can hear you thinking,”

“You’re filthy, baby,” the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable, involuntary, almost reflexive in your response, eyes snapping to his face and voice whiny, voice pleading. “Take a bath with me,”

And you can see it—can see it in the dark cobalt of his irises, what he needs, the very thing he’s fighting himself on, the very thing he’s fighting so hard against. Always so stubborn, so reluctant, so cautious.

Because, fuck, he used to be able to resist it, this pathetic ache for comfort—something that’s only managed to grow in your presence, that’s shifted and morphed from a dull smoldering to a raging fire, an insatiable longing for your fingers in his hair and your breath on his skin and your voice against his ear—a skill he’d been constructing, developing, perfecting, since he was thirteen years old. A skill you succeeded in shattering in the matter of a few measly months.

Because you—you’re different. And he hates it sometimes, he swears to the good Lord he does, but hating it doesn’t make it any less true. You break him down, you make him weak, you make him want, and the longer he spends around you, the more he finds that he doesn’t fucking care. And that’s irritating, that’s exciting, that’s terrifying, that’s new. 

Fury blisters his chest, his lungs, his throat as he holds your stare, jaw clenching twice. But you don’t falter, not like the rest of them, not like anyone else—everyone else. You never falter, always so eager to see the good in him, a snort leaving his nose at the thought. The good in him. Is there any good left in him? Was there ever any good in him in the first place? Are you the good in him, now? Does he care?

And he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it, but he’s beginning to realize that, maybe, he doesn’t have to. 

Maybe, it doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s okay, if you love him, if he loves you.

Maybe.

It’s too much, and he can feel frustration stinging his eyes, long delicate eyelashes fluttering as he quickly blinks it away. Spears, sharp and cold, splinter your chest at the sight, but you know if you begin crying too, you’ll lose him. You know that if you begin showing what he considers weakness, he’ll pull away, even though this is what he so clearly needs most. 

So you steel yourself, swallowing hard against the pain collecting in your throat, will the tears away and force your body to stay calm, approaching him slowly as if he’s some sort of feral animal prone to lashing out. 

Apprehension is clear in his azure eyes, head tilting a little as they narrow, regarding you with skepticism, with suspicion. 

It’s bold, and dangerous, and—as far as Dabi’s concerned—fucking stupid, but you don’t care, determined to prove to him that you aren’t going anywhere regardless of how many tantrums he throws, no matter how many times he hurts you in his anguish. It’s almost desperate, really, this sheer need to prove to him that you aren’t scared of him, that irrespective of how soft he seems to think you are, you are strong, even if it’s in ways he could never understand, that you can be strong for him, when he needs it, that he can borrow some of your strength, if he needs to.

And that—that’s why he loves you. It hits him hard, as this realization always does, kicks him in the chest and knocks the breath out of him every time, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.

A tiny hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Dabi regarding the offer with a wary hesitance. Wiggling fingers attempt to entice him, earning a tiny smirk—a massive victory—as sapphire flits up to gaze at you through thick lashes, an eyebrow raised.

You match his expression, quirking an eyebrow of your own and nodding at your hand, speaking a moment later.

“Let me in, baby,” the words are barely above a whisper, but they’re so raw, filled with so much unadulterated love it hurts, pure and real and everything he’s never had before. “Let me help,”

And, God, it’s fucking overwhelming, how badly he wishes to give in to this unfamiliar compassion, how desperately he desires your affection, despite the malicious voice echoing off the walls of his skull, berating him for being so pathetic, so weak, so vulnerable.

But the urge to accept, to seek out consolation in you, wins, just as it always does, that nasty voice reverberating in his mind silenced the very instant his skin touches yours.

You let him make the last move, allow him to make that final decision entirely on his own accord, to grasp your hand in his, warm and rough, and pull you towards him, crushing you against his chest as he buries his face in your hair, eyes squeezed shut against that annoying burn of tears, chest stuttered with a hitched breath, air that gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the words he wants to say.

But he doesn’t need to say them. You already know.

“Come,” you murmur to him, fingers threading through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. “Let’s take a bath,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The bathwater stings your skin, just a hint too hot to be comfortable, but you say nothing as you settle onto his lap in the cramped little tub, encompassed by frothy bubbles, dainty scent of orange citrus tickling your nose.

Heated fingertips press into your hips as he finds comfort the only way he knows how to, in your precious little whimpers and broken moans of his name as he bounces you on his cock, so vigorously you’re positive you can feel him in your tummy, the pads of his fingers searing his prints into your skin.

It’s heady, it’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, heightened emotions both pleasant and unpleasant swirling together with the symphony of your cries and his grunts as the water you’re submerged in begins to bubble and boil, to crack and pop, sudsy liquid sloshing over the side of the tiny tub as he forces you to ride him, faster and faster and faster until you’re whining and convulsing around him, and he’s filling you with thick cum, cock throbbing aggressively as he spurts load after load into you.

After, as he leans back against the cold tile, residual droplets sizzling into steam as his heated skin touches them. Gentle fingers card between his hair, water cascading through onyx strands as it pours over his head from a worn plastic cup—a faded Darth Vader staring back at you as you rhythmically repeat your actions until the tresses stick to his forehead and cheeks, drenched and shining in the low light of the washroom.

Heavy lids obscure the most brilliant sapphire from you as shampoo is massaged into his scalp, slow and unhurried and thorough, every stroke, every comb through inky clumps easing the turmoil in his mind bit by bit, calming the storm that’s been raging inside of him for hours now. Deep hums rumble in his chest as your fingers continue their ministrations, your eyes trained on your motions. And you can feel it, the tension dissipating from his body with each circle of foam rubbed into his soft hair, shoulders finally beginning to relax as he subconsciously nuzzles into your touch, following it, longing for it, aching for more.

He shifts then, after you’ve rinsed the soap from his hair, manhandling you into a position between his thighs, bare chest pressed tightly against your back. You work hard to keep your body from tensing, forcing your breathing to stay even, to stay calm as you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“He was eleven,” he says after several long moments of silence, voice low and trembling, hoarse and heavy with remorse. “This time.”

This time. That’s the third innocent civilian—innocent by his standards, at least—this month.

That’s the first time it’s ever been a child.

You don’t turn around to look at him, not yet—he isn’t finished—simply opting to lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each wounded knuckle, crude staples catching in the dim warm light of the tiny bathroom. 

You want to tell him it wasn’t his fault, even though it was. You want to tell him anything that’ll make him feel better, that’ll absolve the guilt so evidently gnawing away at his insides, even though you know there’s nothing you can say.

“What are—I don’t even—” his voice breaks and you feel his chest stutter against your back, feel him exhale harshly, breath cool on your damp shoulder, feel him swallow thickly as he tries again. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he would never admit it, you know he needs release this from the confines of his mind—you know you’re the only person who can offer him such an outlet. “Why the fuck were there kids there in the first place? Huh? They shouldn’t—They shouldn’t have been there,”

Orphans are everywhere in this city, you murmur, lips moving against his rough skin. He knows. Orphans of heroes. He knows.

“I’m gonna kill Shigaraki, I swear to Christ. Sending us to a—a fucking place infested with fucking ch-children,” his fingers curl around yours, hand beginning to shake as it clutches you like a lifeline, like that guilt will devour him from the inside out, like he’ll disintegrate into nothingness, if he doesn’t. “I bet you he fucking knew—nah, I-I’m positive he did. Asshole only cares about himself, though. Doesn’t matter that—that the cause we’re supposed to be fighting for affects these stupid kids,”

You’re right, love.

The words leave your lips in a gentle breath, leaning your head back against his collarbone and staring up at him. Cobalt eyes stay trained on the cracked tile wall, jaw methodically clenching as his molars grind together, an attempt to quell the trembling of his chin, exhaling hard harsh breaths through flared nostrils.

“Whatever,” he huffs, voice still wavering and not nearly as self-assured as he wishes. “Th-That brat shouldn’t have been there in the first place,”

He shouldn’t have, you agree, finally squirming in his grasp, turning to face him, to straddle his hips again in the tight space of the tub. And he welcomes your affections readily this time, arms encircling your waist as he holds you tightly to him, blunt nails digging purple-tinged crescents into your flesh as he shoves his face against your neck, finally allowing those emotions he’s been fighting to leak from his eyes and absorb into your skin.

Little palms rub soothing circles into his back as he shudders against you, allowing him to empty his soul onto you as soft lips press chaste kisses to his damp hair, waiting until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are drained, azure glassy and bloodshot, nose twitching and red.

And after he’s done, when he finally pulls back, scrubbing aggressively at his nose as tiny sniffles hitch in his chest, gentle fingers begin to lather soap into his skin, washing away the dirt and grime and blood from the day. Fingertips carefully trace along the metal sutures decorating his body with immeasurable adoration, you whispering all of the things he so desperately needs to hear that he’d never dare to ask for, complimented by the tender touches that cleanse his soul with their unconditional love.

He’s bigger than you are, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to wrap him in a fluffy white towel, using another in an attempt to dry his hair as your hands move in shaggy motions, heart soaring in your chest when you pull a soft laugh from his lips, wet and wobbly and croaky, but a laugh nonetheless.

A mutual silence, gentle and comforting and stuffed full of an immense love, a special kind of love, a love words do not exist to explain, swathes your bodies as he allows you to dress him, pulling a ratty old band tee over his head and a pair of plaid PJ pants up his legs.

“You always look so cute in my clothes,” he rasps from his spot perched on the edge of the bed, glowing crystal eyes watching as you pull one of his t-shirts over your naked body.

A genuine bubble of laughter erupts from your throat as you climb into bed with him, immediately allowing him to latch onto you, to pull you towards him, to hold you close like his own personal plushie.

“Sleep,” you murmur as the two of you settle into a comfortable position, limbs tangled together, his head resting on your chest, fingers threading through his hair and then tracing down his neck, his back. “And then I’ll make you ramen,”

“The spicy kind?”

“Of course,”

I love you.

“Extra spicy?”

Laughing again, you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, grip around your torso tightening. “Extra spicy. Now, rest,”

More than anything else.

“With the little fish cakes?”

“Your favourite little fish cakes,”

More than words could ever tell you.

“And the pork belly?”

“And the pork belly,” you feel his chest rise with an inhale, hastily adding, “And those little cream puffs you love so much, from that dingy convenience store downstairs, for dessert. Now sleep, baby,”

He laughs, even though his vision is blurring, even though it comes out more strangled than anything else, because he doesn’t want to cry again, because his chest stings and aches and swells and warms, full of inexplicable emotions, feels like it’s going to fucking burst as it chokes and reinvigorates him all at once, and—God, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Because even though he’s terrified beyond belief, he’s willing to try—just for you, only for you—as he continually realizes with each passing day that he isn’t sure what the fuck he’d do without you, now. Because you’re too entangled up in his life, too deeply embedded in his very soul, for him to ever remove you, now. Because as petrifying and unfamiliar as it is, he doesn’t want to, now.

Because even though he’s broken, irrevocably so, and you can’t fix him, won’t fix him, you’ll still stay, to hold those pieces so gently, so tenderly in your hands, you’ll still protect those fragments and keep them from shattering further, you’ll still give them the affection and devotion they need, the affection and devotion they deserve. Because you love every part of him, even the bad ones, even the shards with jagged edges that cut into the soft flesh of your palms every time you caress them.

Because you accept him wholeheartedly, flaws and all, and that’s—he’s never experienced anything like that before, this unlimited, unreserved, unquestioning love. And although he doesn’t know how to say this, isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to find the right words to communicate it, he’s beginning to learn that unfamiliar doesn’t always mean bad; that sometimes, it’s okay—it’s good—to be vulnerable. He’s beginning to learn that with you, in the warmth of your shitty little apartment, with the stove that only has two functioning burners and the fridge that’s perpetually too cold, he can be, without judgement, without fear, without trepidation.

Because you are his only salvation, and he wouldn’t trade this for the goddamn world.

[mcufox123]

Poofed

WandaxFemReader

Summary: Wanda copes with a life that may not have you in it.

Warnings: Devestation

A/N: This story literally is heartbreaking but in a good way I think. Let me know what you guys think!

****************************************************************************************************

You wake up suddenly to your hand being kicked. It was wrapped around your wife’s very pregnant belly as you both tried to sleep through the night. You smiled dreamily in your sleepy state as you were reminded of the twins who would be born any day now.

You and your wife were a part of the famous superhero group who saved the world numerous times. Shortly after she joined and got acclimated with the team the two of you started dating. It has now been 7 years of being together, 3 of them being married. You had moved out of the compound and were now living in your dream house in the countryside, the perfect place for your growing family.

While Wanda was able to take leave months ago as none of the team wanted your children hurt, you still went to work every day. The team promised that once they were born you would be given 3 months to spend with your family but until then “there were still bad guys out there” in Tony's words of course.

You checked the time to see you still had a half an hour to spare before you had to be at the compound. You made Wanda breakfast and set it up next to her then you got ready for your day. You showered, got changed and before you left you wrote two sticky notes to leave on your wife’s mirror. One saying, “I love you more than chocolate chip cookies.” The second said, “You are looking like such a hot mama today.” You left a kiss on Wanda’s forehead and whispered an ‘I love you’ then you went to work.

Wanda woke later that morning with a smile on her face. She saw the breakfast you set up and immediately started eating because she was starving. After her breakfast in bed, she showered before seeing the notes you left. She actually laughed out loud. Even when you weren’t home you always made her day. She sent you a quick text.

Hi my love! Thank you so much for breakfast! I love you more than tv shows!

After that Wanda went about her day normally before she got bored and decided to go to the compound. When she arrived she saw Bucky and Sam watching tv.

“Hey boys,” Wanda said as she set her bag on the counter before walking over and sitting in between the two.

“Hey Wand, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Bucky suddenly jumped into protective older brother mode.

“Sit.” Wanda ordered him, glaring at him. She appreciated the gesture, but she was pregnant and not handicapped.

“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky sat not wanting to make Wanda upset.

“Damn man, if she needs something she’ll tell us right?” Sam asked, turning to Wanda.

“Exactly thank you Sam.” They continued watching TV comfortably every once in a while bantering about something.

“Hey guys, where was y/n’s mission today? I usually hear from her by now if she’s going to be later than 6.” Wanda said realizing the time was now past 6 and she still hasn’t heard anything.

“I think they were in Florida today,” Bucky said, scratching his head trying to remember what Steve told them this morning. “Some mission with aliens that Carol warned them about. They’ll be fine. You’re welcome to stay here in your old room though.” He finished. Wanda thanked him before getting up to move to the kitchen, both men hot on her tail.

“Who is hungry?” Wanda asked as she started to get ingredients out for a caprese chicken dish and some pasta.

“Me, for sure. I missed your cooking so much Wanda.” Sam said, taking a seat at the counter pulling out his phone to que up some songs to listen to while you cooked. Dinner was good and shortly after Wanda went to bed in the now foreign space and begged for sleep to consume her. It was hard because she grew used to your arms wrapped around her with your face pressed into her hair. That night she didn’t get much sleep. She sent you a text letting you know she was sleeping at the compound before she rolled over and tried to shut her eyes.

The following morning Wanda woke up to a still empty bed. Now she started getting nervous, she searched for her phone to see no new messages. She took her time getting out of bed but quickly threw on the clothes she was wearing yesterday before heading to the kitchen.

As she was almost there she could hear Steve talking.

“So Wanda’s here?” Steve asked the person he was talking to.

“Yeah she came yesterday and we just told her to stay. So wait, you're telling me that these things just hit a button then poofed with Tony and y/n? Are they alive?” Wanda could now tell the other person was Bucky. She felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling the wind knocked out of her at the words she just heard. She couldn’t hide any longer and barged into the kitchen.

Her hands instantly went into a fighting position holding Steve in a tight grasp so he couldn’t escape.

“Where is she Steve? What happened? You promised me no life or death missions. You promised me she would always come back to me. She said she would never go away.” Wanda said while breaking towards the end and crumpling to the ground. Bucky went over and wrapped her in a hug.

After a few minutes Bucky put Wanda on the couch as now the rest of the team came in and Pepper with her two small children. Steve went over what happened on the mission and how they have no trace of either of their teammates. He made everyone aware that Thor, Carol, and the Guardians of the Galaxy were all in search of their friends.

Wanda felt so lost. Your twins were expected any day and you were gone. How was she going to do it if you weren’t back? How was she going to be strong for your two little ones if you weren’t there? The questions swarmed her head as she tuned out the rest of the team. After hours of talking the team now turned to their tuned out friend to offer some support.

“When was the last time you ate?” Clint asked Wanda, putting his hand on her shoulder to ground her.

“I don't know.” Wanda shook her head still thinking a million miles a minute not making eye contact with anyone.

“Wanda you need to eat. You have two other people to worry about. Y/N will be ok, she will come back.” Steve said, sitting next to her. She collapsed in tears and that was how the rest of the night went, crying and the team forcing Wanda to eat.

The following days Wanda barely left the bed. On the 4th day of you being missing Wanda felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Her eyes started to tear up from both pain and the realization of what was happening. She was going into labor without you. She screamed out in pain and heartbreak.

Steve rushed into the room as soon as he heard Wanda scream, “It’s ok Wanda we’re here, let's get you to the infirmary.” he held Wanda’s hand all the way down to the infirmary. Steve sent a text out to the rest of the team to let them know what was happening and soon familiar faces appeared in Wanda’s room.

They took shifts as they waited for the time to push. Natasha talked about the makeshift nursery they set up for Wanda, Bucky talked about how he got clothes for Wanda and the babies from Wanda’s home, Steve talked about schedules and shifts he made up to help Wanda, Sam bought stuffed animals, and Peter offered to take the babies to the playground. Wanda just sat and listened, grateful for her friends and the help they were giving her. All she could think about was how you should be there.

You should be freaking out everytime Wanda had a contraction, asking if she should get the doctor. She knew you would try to find her favorite shows on the TV and rub her back whispering soothing words. She needed that more than anything, she needed you. She needed you to be there for your twins first breath, for bringing them home, for the countless sleepless nights.

Soon the doctor entered the room, “Wanda it looks like you are ready to push,” nurses entered behind them with all of the equipment needed for the babies’ delivery. Wanda nodded trying to prepare herself for the experience that was moments away. “Would you like anyone in the room with you?” and Wanda did, she wanted you but you weren’t there. So she asked her best friend Nat to stay with her to which Nat agreed.

They got into position and Wanda endured the hardest fight of her life, childbirth. She could’ve sworn she broke Natasha’s hand from how hard she was squeezing. Soon a melodic sound broke through the pain as her first child was born. “It’s a boy!” she heard and she started to cry of joy. She had a son. The joy didn’t last as she felt another urge to push. “And we have another boy!”

Wanda was so relieved that both boys were here and healthy. You kept telling her that you could feel it was two boys, two football players, you would say. They brought the babies to wanda and laid them on her chest. Nat was quick to snap a quick photo before exiting the room to let the rest of the team know, giving Wanda a moment with her children.

Nat walked out of the room to see no one in the waiting room. She asked the nurse where everyone was who informed her that they were outside. She walked quickly outside hoping you were back. Instead she saw someone else. Tony on his hands and knees crying while the rest of the team was surrounding him.

“What? Where’s Y/N?” Bucky was the first to speak. Everyone was too scared to hear what happened, why Tony was back but not Y/n.

“I don’t know. One minute we were in a room being questioned the next thing I  know y/n lunged at the guy questioning us. She was fighting with him for the poof thing. Then after she successfully got it we realized only one of us could go back while the other had to hit the button. She didn’t even give me a second. And now, now here I am and she is there. Where’s Wanda I  have to tell her something?” Tony suddenly looked frantic.

“No, you’re going with Bruce to do everything you can to get Y/N back.” Clint said, poking Tony in the chest. “You are not doing anything else until she’s back. And you definitely are not seeing Wanda. That girl just had to give birth to twins without y/n, she’s destroyed.” Clint walked back into the infirmary while everyone was still in shock.

“I ‘m sorry. I ‘m going to bring her back.” Tony promised before walking towards the lab to get in contact with the people who were already searching for y/n.

Meanwhile Wanda was still in awe of the two boys in her arms, memorizing all of their features. She knew their names, you and her had picked out the names for all twin scenarios and for two boys it’d be Tommy and Billy. She started to hum a tune she remembered as a child. She started to get upset as she remembered the last time she hummed the song.

You had just walked in from a long day helping in the lab and training. You saw Wanda in the kitchen cooking dinner before turning to see you. She gave you the biggest smile as she came over to wrap her arms around you. Her pregnant stomach left some room between you two as she reached up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“How was your day my love?” she asked walking back to the stove to turn it off and putting the food on the table.

“I'm so tired. Tony was going on about this new feature he wants to make for the quinjet and then Nat beat my ass at training. I don't want to do anything.” Wanda sensing your mood guided you to the couch she sat then pulled you down so your head was on her lap. She played with your hair to calm you down.

“The babies were very active today kicking the heck out of me” she giggled to which you turned your face to her stomach. You placed your hands on her stomach.

“Hey you two, stop kicking mama. I  know you want to play football but you're gonna have to wait till you come out of there.”

“How do you know they’ll want to play football?” She questioned you.

“I  can just feel it in my bones.” You said as your eyes fluttered close. Dinner was long forgotten as Wanda continued to play with your hair humming the tune and you drifted off to sleep.

The following week after the twins’ birth was very hard for Wanda. She went through all the firsts by herself. Instead of going through the first night with you she went through it alone. Instead of bringing them home together with big smiles she took them to her room in the compound. Instead of introducing the twins to the team with you they were all by Wanda’s side before she could introduce them.

She spent the nights in bed. Someone on the team  was always sleeping on a cot to help her during the nights. It had been 11 days since you went missing and you had already missed the biggest week of your little family’s life.

On the 11th day Wanda left the sleeping twins with a sleeping Uncle Bucky and roamed around the compound seeing you everywhere she went. In the kitchen where you both cooked dinner for the team all the time. On the couch where you spent countless nights watching tv shows and movies. In the training room where you pinned Wanda more times then she likes to admit. Then she headed towards the lab.

She stood shocked.

Right in front of her was a man that betrayed her. A man that you had put your life in the hands of who disappointed you. She stormed at him in a fit of rage. “You son of a bitch! Where is she? What did you do to her? I'm going to kill you!” Wanda screamed at him while hitting his chest. Tony let her, knowing that this was what she needed. Wanda continued to curse him out before Tony finally grabbed her hands.

“Stop. I  get it. I'm the bad guy, and I deserve to be. I  messed up the biggest moment of both of your lives. You can keep hitting me, knock me out, whatever you have to do. There is something I have to show you first though.” Tony let go of Wanda’s hands before walking to the screen to pull up a video for Wanda.

When it came through it was you. You were sitting in a bare room and Tony was asleep on the floor behind you. Your hair was a mess and you looked exhausted.

“Friday is it recording? Yes? Ok here we go. If anyone is watching this I  probably did something stupid and I ‘m so sorry. If it’s Wanda hi babe. Man, I think it’s been 3 days and I miss you like crazy. I ‘m trying to figure out a way to get back to you and the babies I promise.” Wanda can feel the tears rolling down her face. “Well I think I have a plan. You aren’t going to like it but I promise you that it will all work out and I will come back to you. Babe I  don't have much time they are coming back. I  love you and our twins so much. I  am going to do everything to come back to you.” Then the screen went black.

“Play it again, Tony.” Wanda asked Tony and he did. She watched it about 10 more times. Just hearing your voice made Wanda feel better.

“Thank you for showing me that. Can you send it to me?” Wanda asked, keeping her eyes locked on yours on the screen. Tony nodded and Wanda walked out of the room back to the twins.

After that day Wanda had hope. She knew you would come back to her. She watched that video every night on repeat to fall asleep too. She played it for the twins and other videos of you so they could hear your voice. The team noticed the change in Wanda as well. They were very skeptical but didn’t question her mood change.

After a month of you being missing Wanda had almost given up hope. Tommy was fussy and Billy had an explosion in his diaper and it was the first time the team had all gone on a mission so no one was with her. She was crying while changing Billy’s diaper while using her powers to rock Tommy’s baby seat.

“Ah boys, it’s ok mamas here. We’ll be ok sh sh sh.” She was so frustrated she couldn’t even get the diaper on Billy. There were a few more minutes of Tommy crying and Billy and now Wanda before she heard Tommy stop. She didn’t even turn around; she figured he just fell asleep.

When she turned with Billy in her arms she was shocked to see the person standing in front of her. It was the love of her life with her son. A sight Wanda never thought she would see. You looked skinnier, tons of bruises and cuts littered your skin. Your clothes were tattered and your hair was a mess in your face. Wanda thought you still looked just as beautiful. She had Billy in her arms as she slowly walked towards you not believing her eyes. She reached up and touched your face to make sure you were there. And you were.

With Tommy in one hand you reached up with your other to place on top of Wanda’s. “Hey there stranger.” You said with a chuckle. She wrapped her arm around you and started sobbing. You put Tommy in the bassinet still holding onto Wanda then reached for Billy placing him next to his brother. Then you did the thing you had been wanting to do forever.

You held onto Wanda as she sobbed in your arms. You stroked her hair while whispering “I’m here,” over and over in her ear.

Your arms were around Wanda but your eyes were on your twins. You soon began to cry, realizing how much time you missed. Wanda pulled away when she felt something drip on her shoulder.

“It’s ok my love you’re here now. You won’t miss anything else. You’re here.” Wanda promised with her hands on either side of your face to make you look at her. You leaned down and gave your love a long awaited kiss. Both of you being grateful to have the other there to comfort each other.

You soon pulled away from Wanda to look at your twins.

“I told you two football players.” You chuckled as you picked up the other baby who you have not held yet. “Who is who?”

“That’s Billy and this is Tommy.” She said while picking up the other baby. You both made your way to the bed with the twins and got comfortable next to each other. You stared at them trying to take in the two people who were now your own.

“I’m so sorry I  missed all of it. I  tried to get back as fast as I  could. I  really did. I  thought when I sent Tony back it was going to be hours and I would be back. But I see metal man's mind isn’t what it used to be.” You rambled on. You wanted Wanda to know just how sorry you were.

“It’s ok. You’re here now and I’m not letting them take you anywhere. You’re staying with us for as long as I want.” Wanda assured you. You sat with your family for hours just basking in their presence and soaking it all in. You changed every diaper and did anything Wanda needed until she ordered you to go shower. While watching your 7th episode of grey's anatomy you dozed off with the babies between you and Wanda.

You only woke when you heard the rest of your rag tag group of friends enter the compound from their latest mission not even trying to be quiet. You turned to see Wanda still awake nursing Billy.

“Should we scare them?” You asked Wanda with a grin on your face. “You can if you want.” She didn’t feel one way or the other. Knowing how much the team helped her while you were missing.

You stood up and hid behind the closed door. It opened halfway.

“Hey Wanda how’d everything go?” Steve asked, you could feel multiple people enter the room however.

“Boo!” you jumped out to scare the team. Bucky not knowing it was you punched you in the stomach.

“Ah shit sorry y/n.” he said before recognition came to his eyes and the others. “Wait y/n?” he stared in disbelief. Nat was the first to tackle you in a hug before the others were soon to follow.

“How, how, how did you get back?” Tony asked with tears in his eyes.

“Well I  thought you would figure it out quickly once I  sent you back but that didn’t happen. I  kept waiting and finally decided to just do it myself. I  befriended another prisoner who promised to poof me back. And then when they did I  was in the training room. I  got Wanda’s text and just assumed she was still here and made my way up to her room.” They all said how happy they were that you were back. You ate dinner as a family and spent the night in your room with your beautiful wife and boys.

“Let’s go home tomorrow.” you suggested to your half asleep wife in your arms.

“You are my home.” she said and you felt warmth well up in your chest.

“I  love you so much darling.” you nuzzled closer to her.

“I  love you more.” and you both fell into a deep sleep which neither of you had had for a long time.