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kleenex-tissues · 1 year ago

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Every Side of Gohan

A Reflection on the Effects of a Child Soldier

In the future, his future, Trunks knew Gohan. Gohan is hardened, with a carefully controlled anger. He’s marred, a missing arm, a scarred face. He’s in pieces, and now he’s gone.

This Gohan is wrong, incorrect in every sense of the word. He has the hidden anger, the unseen scars of his future counterpart, but he’s much more whole. This one carries himself with a childish demeanor, though his knowledge and maturity is far beyond his mere nine years. He’s happy in places the other could never dream of, surrounded by love and arms that should be long lost.

His mother will get to finish raising him, a younger brother to accompany them soon. Piccolo will still hold him in secret when he can do nothing but cry. That’s another thing – this Gohan is granted the comfort of grief. He has the time and space to mourn, to cry, to hurt. Nothing has to be hidden anymore.

Each version of Gohan shared a childhood none other should experience. When Cell finally falls, discolored blood stains those small hands. This is the fourth near-death experience he has suffered. Both Gohans know the trauma of battle and watching every man they have ever looked up to die protecting them. This Gohan’s eyes are equally as haunted. They shine with fear and the horror of having taken another life.

One thing has not changed. Gohan does not like combat. He is a pacifist, more so than his ever-forgiving father. Killing brings a sickening feeling to his stomach, and when the Cell Games have blown over, only Trunks and Chi-Chi know that he has spent every night since emptying the contents of his stomach until morning lights the tile of the bathroom. His Gohan did the same, as much as he tried to hide it.

When Trunks returns to his timeline, he never stops thinking of Gohan – both his mentor and the child he had grown so fond of. As his sword strikes down the Androids who brought civilization to near extinction, he feels peace wash over him for the first time in his life. Their death does not bring Gohan back, but his memory lives on deep within him.

–

Just as he did every night, Gohan lay soundlessly in his bed. Goten has migrated from his own bed to find himself tangled in the sheets of his brother’s. A small foot is pressed to Gohan’s lower back, and it is a small comfort. It’s a reminder to breathe, to know he was safe at home.

His heart had stopped for a moment in the night, an unfortunately common occurrence for him. Nights like these he is haunted by the ghosts of his past. The mucusy blood of Cell coats his small and callused hands, and a broken arm falls to his left.

Trunks had told him about the alternate future version of himself once. Just once, that was all he needed to hear of it. The counterpart who fought androids and lost his left arm. Sometimes this Gohan is the one killing Cell, and he wakes up desperately reaching for the appendage to make sure it’s still there – that it was truly healed.

His variety of nightmares set out to relive the great tragedy of his life.

Some nights, he’s buried in rock, Vegeta’s foot breaking his ribcage. His lungs are going to be punctured any second now, and all he can think of is how they’ll tell his mother. Will they bring back his limp body to Chi-Chi? Will she know where they’ve buried her son, or will she even live long enough to grieve her darling boy? The thought of making his mother cry as she did when his father passed causes a nausea to coil in his stomach. But the thought of seeing his mother dead made the bile begin to rise dangerously close to his mouth.

It’s Vegeta’s final blow, a hard kick to the chest, that makes Gohan’s heart stop beating. That miniscule scare, a few skipped beats, but enough for his adrenalin to pump through his head and his mind to wake him up to a frozen, numb body.

His movement will return in time, like it always does, and then he can sit with his face pressed against a cold ceramic bowl and release the bile still hiding in his throat. He’ll do it quietly, to keep Goten from waking up in the other room. His little brother, who sees Gohan as the hero he never was, cannot know how broken he truly is.

Because those are the dreams that bother him on other nights. He sees the two men he looked up to most in his miniscule life dead on the floor before him. He can’t let Goten see him that same way.

Frieza aims a powerful laser in his direction. He accepts his fate, for just a moment, hoping that maybe this release would bring him a sweet peace, but then the beam is hurtling towards him. He brings up pathetically small arms to shield his face, anticipating the pain. He knows it should only hurt for a moment, so long as Frieza does it right.

But it never hits. Piccolo is in front of him, taking the beam straight through the abdomen, and telling Gohan to, “Run. Anywhere, I don’t care. Just leave and be safe.”

His words echo through Gohan’s head as he processes the scene before him. Piccolo’s body falls backward at his feet. Glossy, white eyes greet him, and the bleeding isn’t stopping anytime soon. For Kami’s sake, there’s a gaping wound in his chest, and for all the things his mother has made him study, he never learned how to keep a man from dying. All he can do is hold back tears because Piccolo always chastised him for crying.

“Don’t grieve me, Gohan. Just fight for me, okay?”

The final words from his master are gentle, and suddenly he’s staring at his dying father.

Piccolo has moved to the other side of the field, and he’s breathing raggedly, power still radiating off of his green skin after putting a powerful beam through the chests of both Raditz and Goku.

Gohan doesn’t even have the time to be horrified by his father’s blood soaking his little cloth shoes before his ki surges through him, and the world has gone black. He’s brought back to life by Goten mumbling something about the biggest fish he had ever seen. The young half-saiyan is still asleep, his face pressed into his brother’s chest.

His favorite nights are when there is no dream, just silence, a simple blink and he’s back to the waking world. It’s as close to peace he’ll ever find, and eventually, after enrolling in high school, the nightmares fade a bit. They are not gone; they will likely always remain, but now he dreams of good things, too.

Videl takes him on dates. She holds him after a tough battle, and soothes his aching wounds. Goten drags him out to meadows in search of a butterfly he’s been chasing all week. Their bright smiles stop the world in its tracks. It is a small thing, but a great comfort he has not seen in years.

He will never be the Gohan he was so long ago, the young child eager to learn yet scared of the world around him. But sometimes, in those good dreams, he is him again. He is held in his father’s warm arms, still so full of youthful vigor. His mother fusses over the dirt on their boots, forbidding them from entering the house until their feet are bare.

The world is filtered in the soft orange of the sunrise. He can see the spatter of freckles across Goku’s face and the loose threads of his worn gi. He feels his chest rise and fall with laughter, his hand rub Gohan’s back soothingly, and the weight of the dragon ball on his hat. Chi-Chi smiles, in that way she only can when her husband is nearby.

Gohan has memorized the scene, playing it through his head on his hard days. This Gohan is gone, but he is just as much him as Trunks’ Gohan was. They are extensions of one person, lives lived under his name. Each of these Gohans lived this moment. They have been held in their father’s embrace, studied under their mother’s steady hand. They were each born and raised under a dead man’s name, but a dead man who meant the world to his father.

And the best dream he has had the chance to live is when those Gohans can all meet. He holds his younger self, laughs with his future counterpart, and carries the large basket Grandpa Gohan once kept. They comfort one another in a way no other can. Because this is an experience only Gohan can have.

This is a dream to tell him: It will all be okay. You have lived. You have learned. You have loved. And you will continue on, for all of them. The sunrise waits for you on the other side.

#dragon ball #son gohan #trunks briefs #future trunks #future gohan #mirai trunks #mirai gohan #character study

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501st-rexster · 1 year ago

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top five favorite clones

(ranked and specific reasons why)

OOH! I love this. Okay

1. Captain Rex (No big surprise there)

I love Rex because he's humble, he's loyal, compassionate, determined, intelligent, creative, honorable, but most of all, he's emotional. He displays a higher level of emotions than any other clone, and he will always put other before himself. He's perfect because he's not flawless. And he knows it. He's also just adorable and socially awkward and he's the perfect little boy. Additionally, everything Rex has been through, from the Battle of Arantara to The Tribunal, it's amazing that he still has the will and the strength to press on. He's lost so many people he loved, he watched tens of thousands of brothers die, he's been through Hell and back, and he continues to fight. Against the Separatists, against the Empire, he never stops fighting.

2. Commander Cody

Cody is, in my mind, the perfect leader. He's beyond dedicated to his men, he has unparalleled determination, he's just as stubborn as Rex if not more so, he fucking spin kicks, punches, and body slams droids, he's incredibly smart (you can't tell me he's not also a nerd, that boy is just an older Echo fight me.) Cody represents balance, he can strategize for the best of them, and it is canon in my head that he has an incredible protective nature towards Rex. They're buddies, Y'know?

3. ARC Trooper Fives

Fives is sassy and sarcastic. Two traits that I immediately fall in love with. He's far more stubborn than Rex and that's saying something. He's creative, he's caring, he is not afraid to speak his mind, and he's a jokester. Fives is a hardened warrior, he and Rex trust each other to no end and that's beautiful. Fives made it clear that he'd do anything to protect his brothers. He's a playboy, we all know it, and he's just plain adorable.

4. ARC Trooper Echo

Echo is nerdy, he is sassy, and he has a very dry sense of humor. Like Fives, he's a hardened warrior, even stronger after what he went through. Given what he went through, it's even more amazing how much he continued to fight. Echo honestly deserves so much respect for the horrors he went through and then still decided that he was going to keep going. His loyalty is unshakable. He is so cute, I love him so much.

5. Commander Fox (Unpopular opinion lol!)

I've come to really like Fox, there are so many headcanons about him because we don't really learn much about him during the show. But I do know that I respect him for putting up with fucking Sheev Palpatine on a daily basis. My boy was bred for war, not politics. He's a Marshal Commander, he's incredibly smart, we've all agreed that he definitely has some gray hair because he is beyond stressed. I HC that he is alive purely on caff and stim shots. I also HC that he secretly loves cats. Fox is not a fan favorite because of how he is portrayed in the show, but I've come to really love him, and I like to think that he also has a very protective edge when it comes to Rex. (Rex is the baby of his friends, he's precious and Fox will make sure he's okay.) Also Fox is a grumbly sleep-deprived twenty-something year old man who hates politics so it's like looking in a mirror.

There you have it!! My five favorite clones! Thanks for the ask, I love doing these!

#the clone wars

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shmothman · 1 year ago

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allow me to elaborate.

Genos, Trauma, and Identity

(I'm sure all of this has been said a million times, considering I'm years late to the fandom, BUT I can’t stop thinking about it.)

Genos is traumatized. Obviously. At 15 years old, his whole family (his whole town!) was killed in front of him by a rampaging cyborg. His entire world is shattered in one day. And I don’t think this is ever explicitly stated, but my assumption was that he was probably close to death when Kuseno found him. (“being only a weak 15 year old, I was alone at the end of my strength in a ruined town.”) Not to mention the fact that the intense body modification he underwent to become a cyborg would have massive psychological consequences.

So Genos, having just lost his entire family, is saved by Doctor Kuseno, “a scientist for justice, on a mission to stop the rampaging cyborg and end his oppression.” We don’t get to see what Genos was like before all of this, when he was a poor kid living “a peaceful and happy life” with his family, but I can only imagine him at fifteen, right after this massacre that he witnessed and this injury he was dealt, young and crying to the only person he even has in his life now, who he’s only just met. 15 year old Genos trying to deal with all this grief, just a teenager sobbing in a scientist’s lab. And Doctor Kuseno is a doctor, an engineer—he’s in no way equipped to guide a teenager through all this trauma, so the only solace he can offer this sobbing kid is that together, they can avenge his family, that they can make sure it never happens again, that no one else will have to go through what Genos is going through now. Kuseno gives him the option of being able to fight back.

And that’s something that Genos can hold onto.

He says: “I asked the doctor to give me body modification surgery to make me better, stronger, faster. That’s how I was reborn as a cyborg who fights for justice. I promised Doctor Kuseno I would terminate the evil cyborg and return peace to this world.” And so, he has all these surgeries, not only to save his life but to make him a weapon, to enact revenge for the lives lost, and for the way it's made him feel.

Genos becomes the Cyborg for Justice, and it becomes his entire identity. He’s not Genos, the boy who lived happily with his family (and of course, we don’t even know anything else about his past, he doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t think about it anymore), but Genos, the cyborg for justice.

The more it becomes his identity, the more he's able to lock up the part of himself that's just a crying kid in a lab. He just keeps repeating to himself that now he's a cyborg for justice. Now he can protect people. Now he can find the cyborg who did this and kill it. He’s focused and driven. He thinks about this one thing, about vengeance, and he doesn’t think about anything else. He’s the cyborg for justice. That’s it. (He can’t think about the things he’s lost. He can only look forward.)

And that’s how he lives for the next 5 years. He hardens himself, he “wanders from town to town eliminating evil,” and as far as we can tell, he doesn’t have any relationships with anyone besides Kuseno. He doesn’t need anyone besides Kuseno. He can’t afford to lose anything else. And he doesn’t have any purpose but searching for the cyborg that killed his family (he’s not an individual with wants and needs anymore—he doesn’t see himself as human anymore). And it must be noted that Kuseno is the same way—he’s driven by the single-minded desire to destroy this cyborg, and thus, so is Genos, who now holds Kuseno above all else, as the man who saved his life and made him stronger. He ties his identity to Kuseno, takes Kuseno’s drive as his own, and that lets him not think about his incalculable losses, except in the abstract; he thinks “my family was killed, and I will avenge them,” but refuses to think “I lost everyone I ever loved.” And he fights, and fights, and fights—he defeats evil, and he becomes confident enough in his abilities that he thinks he can “lose to no one but the rampaging cyborg.��

And then he (self-admittedly) becomes overconfident, and he almost dies fighting the mosquito monster. And he meets Saitama.

He sees Saitama, with a single punch, destroy the monster that would have killed him—and he immediately knows that Saitama could beat the rampaging cyborg. And thus, if Genos becomes like him, Genos could beat the rampaging cyborg.

Genos needs to become stronger in order to defeat his enemy, and Saitama could be the key. So, for ostensibly the first time in years, Genos allows (or rather, demands) someone else into his life—because now, Saitama is inextricably linked with Genos’s one goal, and thus his identity.

He latches onto Saitama in an almost childish way, in a similar manner to the way he latched onto Kuseno. He is the cyborg for justice. He is Saitama’s disciple. He is going to get stronger, so that he can defeat the rampaging cyborg.

This is all he thinks about. He can only look forward.

Because of all the things he’s been through, and because of his goal, Genos values strength above all else. There is a hierarchy in his life, with the strongest people on top: Kuseno, who saved him, and is powerful because he created Genos’s body, and thus created his strength; and now Saitama, who is physically the most powerful thing Genos has ever seen. Genos places himself below them. He is deferential toward them, honors them above all else, and becomes extremely protective of them—and thus, of his identity which now revolves around them. (Because who is he without them? Who is he without his goal? That doesn’t matter. Keep moving.)

The more he ties his identity to Saitama, the more his emotions revolve around him. He's happy when Saitama does well. He's angry when Saitama isn't treated well. We don’t know how Genos expressed emotions before the start of the story, but it seems like he mostly only shows anger, though even this is pretty restrained for a character who could be called a bit hot-headed. Still, his identity is incredibly fragile—it’s really only attached to the one thing—and he seems to grow more and more possessive of Saitama as Saitama meets more people (makes more friends). It’s insecurity, in its basest form: he has a fear of being replaced (and thus of losing part or all of his identity), although he wouldn’t be able to understand or articulate that currently; he never really learned much emotional intelligence, and he isn’t going to be able to learn it from Kuseno or Saitama.

And then, of course, there’s the simple fact that he doesn’t seem to put much value on his own life (and not just in the way that he’ll gladly lay it down to protect others). He nearly self-destructs at a couple different points (notably, Saitama’s strength is the thing that saves him the first time, and Fubuki’s ambition and her connection to him that saves him the second time) and never has anything to say except “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.” It... comes from several places, I think; one of them being survivor’s guilt. He was the sole survivor of the cyborg’s attack. And in a way, I think he’s had to justify his own continued existence to himself. If he gets vengeance, if he restores peace, then he has a reason to be alive. If he’s of use, if he avenges his town and family, then it will be worth it. If he can’t do these things, if he isn’t strong enough, then he shouldn’t be here, anyway. “Forgive me, doctor.”

I don’t really have a point to all of this, except to say that he’s deeply broken, in so many ways, and doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to be able to consciously understand or articulate any of it. Even if he could, it wouldn’t matter to him—the only thing that matters is his concept of justice. So. In conclusion: Therapy. Now.

having normal thoughts vis a vis genos’s emotional repression and just overall how he’s dealt with all the Trauma of his life and I just 😭😭😭😭😭

#he's... so emotionally messed up i adore him #i can't fix him but i can drive him to therapy #genos #opm #i will probably write another piece on like. how genos interacts with other people and how he sees others as a whole...#and i could and probably will write another essay on. how my SI can help him :3 #this has been. sef pepe silva moment

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eskumii · 3 years ago

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soft yandere!older brother!eren yeager hcs + how he reacts to you joining the corps [platonic]

TITLE: " I'LL PROTECT YOU " — navi. part two.

A/N: my first post. :) going thru extreme eren brainrot rn, this was such an impulsive write. love me some tatakae. these hcs are quite long, i've actually never written any before lol! i've also never written for eren so my interpretation of him may or may not be accurate. this is just how i see him.

PAIRING: soft yandere!older brother!eren yeager x little sister!reader (platonic)

CHARACTERS: eren yeager (19), reader (15)

☆ you're eren's younger sister by four years.

☆ it's no secret that eren's been hardened through a traumatic past and was forced to learn what it means to grow up in even more compromising circumstances. with you as his younger sister, there was little he could do to shield you from the horrors of reality as a kid himself, but he always made sure you were happy, safe, and fed.

☆ however, it's not like that anymore. eren is older. he's stronger. he knows how to protect you now, and he makes it a priority to be the big brother he knows you need. you have no one else, after all.

☆ you, on the other hand, are rather less inclined to his overprotectiveness. he's a brooding man who stands six feet tall and can easily squash anyone, but he's soft like putty when it comes to you. he's always doting on you, it seems: "quit running down the stairs, you'll hurt yourself." "it's cold outside, put a jacket on. *wraps a scarf around you*" "hold onto me, it'd be annoying if you got lost."

☆ whenever you tell him to stop babying you, that you're grown now, he just pats your head and gives you a shadow of a smile that somehow seems threatening. you huff and smack his hand away, leaving him to fondly watch as you stomp away like a spoiled brat. you'll always be his innocent little sister.

☆ as your older brother and last true kin, eren feels obligated to be strict with you. no boys, no staying out past curfew, no friends he hasn't approved of, and certainly no going outside the walls. did i mention no boys? it's all for your safety; he constantly keeps a watchful eye on you.

☆ the day you decide to pursue the idea of joining the corps is the day that stoic eren loses his cool. you argue, going back and forth about how it's your decision or how only he knows what's best for you. he can't protect you out there and there's no way he could live anymore if you ever got killed by a titan. you're being so selfish!

☆ it seems that eren can't accept that you're growing up. in fact, you're now the same age he was when he became apart of the survey corps. in his eyes, you're still the little girl whom he held in his arms as you sobbed after mother died, bandaged the scrapes you got from playing in the rocks by the river (even though he told you not to), and pretty much raised you all this time. you should listen to him—no, you're going to listen to him and he'll make sure of that.

☆ after days of arguing and trying to persuade you to not join the corps, eren suddenly gives in. you find that utterly suspicious but you decide not to try your luck any further. giddy with excitement, your enlistment into training commences immediately and you're sent away to boot camp within the next couple of days. eren waves you off a little too happily.

☆ needless to say, it could not have gone more terribly. your first day there is spent alone—no one dares speak a word to you, even when you approach them with your sweetest smile and the intent to befriend them. it's not that big of a deal, it's only the first day, everyone's nervous, right? maybe you should give it some time. at least, that's what you told yourself.

☆ and you were so completely wrong. it doesn't get better. at all. no one sits with you during any meal. no one chooses you as their training partner. gosh, no one even claims the bunk bed that's above you. you're avoided like the plague and honestly, it kind of hurts your feelings. you didn't do anything to deserve this.

☆ but if you thought that was bad, it gets worse. about two weeks in, the other trainees suddenly begin to bully you. they take your clothes while you're in the shower, they strip your sheets and throw them into the nearby river, and some have even begun to physically push you around.

☆ everyday is another day that you miss eren. with tears in your eyes as a kid harshly shoves you to the ground during a training session, you begin to wish that you listened to him. and as he begins to kick you in the stomach, you don't think you can handle it anymore.

☆ so imagine the glee on your face when you're told that you are not at all adequate enough in skill nor combat ability to become a soldier and receive orders that you'll be sent home soon. you're a little bit disappointed deep down, but you're starting to think you were never cut out for this in the first place. your big brother was right all along.

☆ eren is a conniving fiend. he's got connections all over the island and, if he wanted to, he could destroy the whole thing if he so well pleased. pulling a few strings to make sure you never pursue a career in the corps was nothing. you had to learn the hard way, unfortunately. he doesn't blame you; he thinks it's adorable how much you resemble him when he was your age.

☆ the day you come home, eren is standing in the threshold of front door looking a little bit smug. he opens up his arms for you and you abandon your belongings to run into the safety of his embrace.

☆ you cry and sob into his chest about all the horrible things you had to endure at boot camp. eren cooes soothing words into your ear as he crouches down to gently wipe your tears and stroke your head. it reminds him so much of when mother died, how you depended on him completely. he hugs you tighter.

☆ "shhh, it's okay [y/n], don't cry." he rubs your back as you hiccup through your recounting of boot camp, "i'm here, you're safe now."

☆ you pull back a little to look him in the eyes, face damp with tears and snot. "i'm sorry, i should have listened to you..." and you squeeze him tighter, shoulders shaking as you struggle to pull yourself together.

☆ eren can't hold back the small, twisted smile that tugs at his lips. "didn't i tell you i know what's best for you? you should never have to fight—i'll protect you," he wipes away the rest of your tears and leads you inside, where he had already prepared your favorite comfort food. ruffling your hair, you smile tearfully at him and he smiles back.

☆ "i'll take care of you, alright?" eren certainly has become the big brother you need.

#yandere eren #yandere aot #yandere attack on titan #yandere eren yeager #yandere eren yeager x reader #aot x female reader #yandere #yandere x reader #eren yaeger headcanons #eren yeager #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan

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saebyeoked · 3 years ago

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omg hii! could i please request dating sangwook from sweet home hc?

i was waiting for this. thank you for giving me an excuse to write this

gn!reader

dating pyeon sang-wook headcanons

it takes him FOREVER to even think about being in a relationship. he doesn't think he needs one, and he doesn't really want one, so what's the point of looking?

especially with the world he lives in now, it doesn't make sense to bother trying to form new relationships, platonic or romantic, in his eyes

though, sang-wook warms up to you rather quickly for some reason. he wonders if it's the gentle, non-judgmental look in your eye, or the protective and loving fire in your heart

he'll find out that you live in the green home. you lived in room 806, and the thought of you living that close to a man like choi yoon-jae made him nervous

he'll slowly but surely grow closer to you. he's wary of everyone at first and he doesn't know what it is about you, but he likes being around you and you make him feel normal. more accepted and welcomed he'd felt in a long time

he'll practically become your body-guard. he'll give you a weapon to defend yourself but that's only used when he isn't around. he wouldn't want you going into the rest of the building without him so it wouldn't be needed unless an emergency

he'll realize he likes you romantically after you offer to clean up his wounds. after yoon-jae's death, his nerves decrease about him being a threat to you, but they don't ever completely fade even though he's dead

you'll treat him so delicately, almost like someone would a flower. you'd talk to him while you bandaged him and your laugh would be the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard

his heart would clench and he'd try to shake those newfound feelings for you away as soon as he realized they were there. he didn't want a romantic relationship, there was no point

he cared too much about you. he didn't want you to die and with the circumstances, death was becoming more and more likely by the minute. he didn't want his heart to break once you did end up dying

you developed feelings for him faster than he did for you. as soon as you saw him you knew he was the bad boy type, but there was something more about him that didn't make sense with his demeanor

as you got to know him, you realized he had such a pure heart. he was a good person underneath that tough exterior and rugged appearance

you would be the one to confess to him. it would probably be in a silent moment alone, whispered under your breath to where you thought he couldn't hear. but he did

he would sit in shock for a few moments, long enough to where you thought he didn't hear you like you hoped, until he whispered back, "you do?"

you would only nod, and a small, yet visible smile would form on his lips. he didn't want to have feelings for you, but he couldn't stop it. every aspect about you had him head over heels

you would end up dating after that, and your relationship wouldn't really change too much

he wouldn't be a big pda person. no one in the green home trusts each other and he worries that someone will use you against him. he will rest a hand on the small of your back when walking together or have his hand on your knee if you sit next to him. not enough to raise suspicion but enough to comfort him

in private he's a lot different though. he'll always have a hand on you whenever you're alone. he loves touching you because it calms him down so much. he gets lost in his thoughts a lot and it shows through sometimes, but holding onto you would make it disappear

sang-wook has major heart eyes for you. he can hide them decently well but anyone with a brain will see how his usually hardened gaze will soften whenever he looks at you. he'll get a dumb smile on his face sometimes if he doesn't control himself

he thinks a lot about how someone like you could love someone like him. he'll fall asleep thinking about how lucky he got, being able to call you his

he's the softest man alive. you'll get weird looks from the other residents about how you're together, mostly out of curiosity or concern. he's so cold to everyone else but he is so gentle with you

the two of you sleep cuddled up to each other. it calms him, being able to listen to your breathing which reassures him that you're alive. he'll usually sleep with your back against his chest and his head into your neck

other nights he'd sleep on his back and you'll rest your head on his chest. you like being able to hear the beating of his heart just as much as he likes to hear your breathing at night

though, sometimes he'll need to be held by you. it doesn't matter what position, as long as he's wrapped up in your arms somehow. you could be laying down on your back and his head will be on your chest. you'd play with his hair and he'll melt into your arms

he always has an emotionless expression on his face but you can always read it. if he's worried or anxious you'd be able to tell because of the way his eyebrows furrow up. if he's happy his lips will be slightly upturned. you get really good at it

he's very protective of you. if he sees someone look at you weirdly he'll glare at them. if someone tries to flirt with you he'll come up to you and glare at them too

he doesn't get jealous easily because of the trust he has in you, but it still happens sometimes. especially when someone just doesn't take no for an answer. that's always when he'll come up to you and stop the situation altogether by taking you somewhere else

he's a really caring person. if you have asthma, he will genuinely stop smoking for you. he did it in the show and i have no doubt that he would do it for you too

the only thing he wants in life is for you to be safe and for your life to continue. if him stopping smoking helps with that he'd absolutely do it

your first kiss you share with him, he initiates. he'll ask you for consent and when he gets it, he kisses you so gently you feel like your heart will burst out of your chest

his hand will tilt your chin up to meet his lips and he'd be so soft whenever he kisses you. it's so different than what people would be expecting because of his demeanor and appearance but it is exactly what you thought your first kiss with him would be like

the way he kisses all depends on you. if you want soft and gentle kisses, that's what you'll get. if you want a make out session he'll give you one. he lives to please

if you're shorter than him (he's 6'1", basically everyone is shorter than him), he'll adore it. he loves everything about you but he thinks your height is so cute for some reason

he'll help you reach higher shelves by either grabbing the item himself or holding you by the waist to help you do it yourself

he isn't the type to tease you for it. he just thinks it's adorable. he loves hugging you and resting his chin on the top of your head, it calms him down so much

the hugs this man gives are incredible, especially if he loves someone. he gives the best, sweetest hugs you could ever experience. he holds onto you so loosely sometimes and then others it's so tight, it's like he knows exactly what you need

sang-wook is an incredible boyfriend. after you tear down the walls he's built, he opens up to you quickly. he'll tell you about the fire and how he got his scars too

you'll kiss them more often after you find out the story behind them. you want him to know you love and cherish every bit of him, even the parts he doesn't like about himself

he'll always take care of you in any way that you can. if you're sick he'll be there. injured or in pain in any way, he's there. anything you need or want he'll get it for you

he cares more about you than he has anyone else in his life and it would kill him to lose you

please treat this man well. it's what he deserves

#sweet home x reader #sweet home x you #sweet home #sweet home x y/n #sweet home imagines #sweet home headcanons #sweet home fanfic #sweet home fanfiction #pyeon sang wook #pyeon sangwook #pyeon sang wook x reader #pyeon sangwook x reader #sang wook #sangwook #sang wook x reader #sangwook x reader

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obsidiancreates · 3 years ago

Text

An Honest Talk

(Got to the episode where Valerie gets the ghost hunting stuff. I just want her to be happy and not Filled With Vengeful Rage so, here's this.)

Jazz sees the whole thing.

Really, Valerie isn't even good at hiding it. As soon as that Ghost Hunter shows up at that school game, Jazz figures it out. Not just because her voice is the same, but because of the insults she shouts while hanging in that basketball hoop. Sure, Jazz is in a higher grade, but she's heard that A-Lister group plenty of times in the hallways and after school.

They're real jerks. But not murderous jerks.

So she decides to do something about it. No-one attacks her baby brother. ... Well, except other ghosts. But Jazz can't always help with those.

This? No problem.

"Hey, Valerie."

Valerie jolts, yelping and almost dropping what is clearly some kind of ghost-detecting device. "Who are- ugh, aren't you Fenton's sister? What do you want?"

"To talk to you," Jazz says in her most empathetic voice. "I noticed you're having kind of a rough time."

"Why do you care?"

"Because my brother does." Cares about not being pummeled, at least. But Jazz is sure Danny hopes the best for his schoolmate, even with the attacks.

Valerie huffs. "Great, pity from the loser kids."

"Come on, it won't hurt to talk about it?"

"Talk about what? That some ghost kid and his dog ruined my life? That we're broke, and all my friends hate me for it? yeah, talking will fix everything."

Jazz sits down on a bench, and pats the seat next to her. Valerie looks away.

But then... she sighs. And sits. "I keep thinking about that five hundred dollar shirt I ruined. Maybe if e hadn't bought that, or I hadn't worn it to school, we'd be a little better off right now."

"It's not your fault."

Valerie grits her teeth. "Yeah. It's that ghost kid's."

"Ghost kid?"

"... You believe in ghosts, right? Because of your parents?"

Jazz nods. "Plus, that thing during the school game,, Kind of hard to deny."

"Heh. Yeah. ... That dog broke into the place my dad was working for. he was showing off what he did for their security, and none of it stopped the dog or the kid. And then they showed up again at the garage sale and wrecked our moving van, and the dog stole my lunch after all my friends rejected me!"

Valerie wipes her eyes, scowling. "It's not fair!"

Jazz hands her a tissue. "It's not, not at all."

"I wanna destroy that kid," Valerie growls. "Like he destroyed me."

"... Valerie... how old is he?"

"About my age, I think."

"And he's a ghost."

"Yeah. And?"

"So... how do you think a ghost kid comes to be?"

Valerie doesn't reply. But after a moment, her eyes widen a little. "Oh... no, no, but... but he's a kid. He can't be any older than me."

"Yeah," Jazz says softly. "So something horrible must have happened to him already."

Valerie looks at the device in her hands. "... But... he still ruined my life." She sounds a bit unsure now.

"Maybe he didn't mean to. I mean... imagine one day you wake up and everything is... different. Suddenly you've got no gravity, and-and no-one can see you sometimes and you're this weird thing-"

God, how scared was Danny when it happened? She's pretty sure by now that it was The Accident that did it, she can't think of anything else that explains it. What was it like for him, waking up as something different?

"It would be tough," Jazz finishes, looking at Valerie.

Valerie still won't meet her eyes, looking at the beeping device. "Then why is he following me around?"

"... Well... does he show up first, or the dog?"

Valerie thinks for a long moment. "... The dog. It's always the dog."

"So maybe he's trying to catch it."

"... I mean, I guess that could be it. But he's been fighting me!"

"And you've been fighting him."

"But-! ... Aw, geez..." Valerie deflates. "What do I do now, then? I can't... I can't keep attacking some kid who... we've barely lived, I can't just make it so that he's barely lived twice."

Jazz stands up and offers her hand. "How about we try talking to him?"

Valerie looks at her. "For real?" She's skeptical.

Jazz nods. "For real. Maybe we can clear some things up."

Valerie turns away again. And then, with a hefty sigh...

Takes Jazz's hand.

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

"Cujo?" Danny calls out. "Cujo! We need to get you back to the Ghost Zone, buddy! Come on, where is he?"

Someone clears their throat behind him, and he yelps as he shoots up in the air.

He turns around, and sees possibly the worst thing he could see right now.

His sister, and his hunter.

"Hello, Ghost Boy!" Jazz calls out.

"Um... hi." Danny waves, still looking startled.

Jazz nudges Valerie, and Valerie huffs. "Hi," she says shortly. Jazz smile at her, though.

"I'm here to mediate a talk between you two," Jazz says, walking closer (and somewhat pulling Valerie along behind her). "I figured there might be more to this story than we all three think."

"Um, you're not- I mean, I'm a ghost, you're just... casual about this?"

Jazz nods. "My parents are well-versed with ghosts, this is nothing."

A straight-up lie. Jazz hadn't even believed in ghosts until she peeled Spectra. But maybe it's to save face for Valerie? Or maybe Jazz recognizes him as the ghost from that day.

"Anyway," Jazz says, "Valerie here has something to say."

Valerie, arms cross and back hunched angrily, glares at Danny. "Who are you, and why are you out to get me?"

Danny floats back down to the ground, standing on it now. "I'm, um... Phantom-"

Valerie gives him a disbelieving look.

"Uh, Ghost Names are uh, different! It's this whole thing. And, I'm not out to get you, I swear. It's all been terrible coincidences."

Valerie scoffs.

"Val, we're here to listen," Jazz reminds gently. "Let him explain his side of things, and then you can explain yours, and we'll come to a solution. Trust me, I read a book about this."

Danny doesn't doubt it. "I don't own that dog, I found him wandering around outside. I thought he was cute at first, and then he turned into the big dog that keeps haunting you."

"And why's he doing that?" she snips.

"I don't know yet." Danny rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I'm trying to send him back to the Ghost Zone, but he keeps coming back out! I'm starting to think it's some cliche 'unfinished business' thing. But until I can figure it out I don't know how to get rid of him. All I can do is try to minimize the damage."

"Doing a great job." Valerie rolls her eyes. "Ruining my father's business, ruining our garage sale, ruining my lunch!"

"I swear, I was trying to help! He's really, really hard to get under control! He's like five times my size!"

"And you can't grow bigger and handle it that way?" Valerie retorts.

"No! I'm only a few months into this, I-"

He cuts himself off at the look on Valerie's face. "What?"

"A few months? ... So... so I could've known you?" Horrified, is the best word for her expression.

Danny shrinks, holding his bicep and hunching a little. "Um, nevermind. I just mean I'm not super powerful."

"No, no, we're going back. Did I know you? Is this a revenge thing?"

"What? No! I already told you, I'm trying to help prevent things from getting worse! And... no. I'm a loser kid, and you're popular."

"... Was," Valerie says quietly. "... All my friends ditched me when I lost my money."

"That's awful."

Valerie nods. "I don't know why I thought they liked me for more than money, looking back. But it still hurts. Being a lonely loser is the worst."

"Tell me about it," Danny mutters. "I mean, I have friends, but sometimes some stuff just makes you feel alone no matter what."

He thinks he sees Jazz tear up at that, but he's not sure. He's distracted by Valerie letting out a sob.

"I don't have anything left," she says, voice quavering. "I don't have the popularity, I don't have money, I don't have the grades..."

"... So you turned to revenge?" Jazz's voice is soft.

Valerie sobs again, and Jazz gives her some comforting slow pats on the back. She looks at Danny, nodding at Valerie.

Danny gets the hint. "You... you could, um, make something, more?"

Valerie gives a somewhat bitter teary chuckle. "What is that supposed to mean, huh? I'm already hunting ghosts. It's... something."

"... You could try to make new friends."

"Oh sure, that's easy. I'm a social pariah."

"So am I. But even just one or two friends helps a lot."

"You got a lot of ghost buddies?"

"... Humans, actually. An if I can make friends with some high school kids as a loser and a ghost, you can make friends too. You just might have to lower your social radar a bit."

Valerie rubs her arm. "... You're really not out to get me, are you?"

"No, I'm not. I want to protect people, not hurt them."

"... I'm sorry I shot those missiles at you."

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep the dog contained."

"... I'm sorry you're a ghost so young."

Danny snuffles a little. "... Thanks." Sometimes he is, too.

Valerie looks at her hand, and then holds it out to him. "Truce? I won't mess with you. I can't promise the same about that dog if it keeps showing up, but I won't mess with you."

Danny sighs. "So you're keeping the weapons."

"Oh, you know I am. Even if I'm not hunting you, now that I know about ghosts I want to be prepared."

"I guess I understand that." Danny shakes her hand. "Truce."

Jazz grins. "See? Just needed a real, meaningful talk!"

Valerie laughs a little, wiping her eyes again. "Yeah, I guess. But... now what? Who do I blame for this?"

"Probably the boss who decided that Ghosts Suddenly Existing was your father's fault," Danny says.

Valerie's eyes harden. "Yeah. Yeah, I can go with that."

"But," Danny and Jazz say at once. They look at each other, and Jazz let's Danny speak.

"But," Danny says again, "Maybe focus on making some more friends, first. One thing about us losers, is we don't ditch someone just for money reasons."

"... I'll give it a shot." Valerie smiles a little at Danny. "With better aim than the ones I took at you."

Danny chuckles a bit.

They both wave goodbye, Jazz and Valerie leaving Danny to continue his search.

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

"Hi."

Danny, Sam, and Tucker all look up. Valerie is standing nervously with her brown paper bag of lunch. Tucker brightens up, and Sam gives a little, slightly suspicious, wave.

Danny scoots over. "Wanna sit with us?"

Valerie looks over at the A-Lister table. They're all staring, smirking, whispering.

Mocking.

She looks back at the 'losers'.

They're looking at her with... openness.

"Yeah. Sure."

She sits down, and gets out her lunch. For a minute, she just listens to them talk while she unpacks the sandwich.

"Hey, is that peanut butter and honey?" Sam asks. Valerie nods.

Sam holds up a thick roast beef sandwich. "My parents are trying to get me to eat meat again, but I'm staying vegetarian. Want to trade?"

Valerie blinks. "Uh... sure?"

They swap sandwiches. Valerie looks at the sandwich, mentally trying to figure out the carbs and calories and fat content-

She looks around the table. No-one else is analyzing their food. Or, judging hers.

She takes a bite. It's pretty good.

This... is pretty good.

She smiles, and laughs a little at a joke Danny makes.

Yeah. This is pretty good.

#danny phantom #Valerie Gray #Danny Fenton #Jazz Fenton #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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nightowlfandom · 3 years ago

Text

Possesive! Jeon Jungkook- Only Mine....

HEY GUYS!

SO ANON ASKS

Your new promp list had me 🥵🥵🥵 if it’s ok can I request numbers 1, 3, 34, 79 with jealous best friend JJK snapping after seeing you around boys all the time? You can choose if you want it noncon or dubcon 🥵

OMG I GLAD YOU LIKE IT! OKAY LETS GET RIGHT TO IT! (Also since I don’t do non-con, I’ll make it consensual. Just a heads up)

1- Look at me when I fuck you!

3- I said FUCKING BEG!

34- I feel like the angrier you get at me, the harder I fuck you.

79- Stay the night with me…I don’t care if it will ruin our friendship.

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

LEGGO!

...

“Kookie!” You ran up to your bestie as he walked out of the airport terminal.

“Y/N!” he practically dropped his duffel bag as he wrapped his arms around your wait. He hoisted you off the ground. He buried his head in the crook of your neck. “My Y/N, I missed you.”

“I missed you more.” you laughed as he tightened his arms around you.

“And I get you all to myself- he began.

“Y/N!” you heard an onslaught of voices. Taehyung, Hoseok, Seokjin and the other guys all crowded around you. You were pulled out of Jungkook’s hug into Namjoon.

“Guys!” you smiled. “I missed you all too!”

“Damn, you should’ve seen Jungkook! He bolted out of the plane!” Hoseok laughed.

“Maybe because I wanted to see my Y/N.” he grumbled in reply. “Give her back!”

“No way!” Yoongi scoffed. “You can have her back after we get dinner.”

Jungkook glared as his friends. How dare they just take you from him?!

“You guys!” you laughed. “We’re making a scene!” you said as their fans caught sights of you. They all seemed infuriated. “You’re fans are gonna-”

“Our fans aren’t gonna do shit.” Jungkook glared into the crowd. “Let them try.” he seethed. He snatched you back into his embrace. “I’ll protect you, love.”

You nodded shyly as Kookie led you to the front of the airport.

...

“Okay weirdos! Dinner is served!” you held the giant box of takeout. “Noodles for Yoongi, Taehyung! Rice Cakes for Seokjin, Namjoon and Hobi. For Jimin, some Extra Spicy Tofu Stew. and For Jungkook and I, fried rice!” you put the box on the coffee table.

Jungkook smirked, of course he went out of his way to make sure no one ordered the same thing as you. He made sure you had ordered last so he could order the same thing.

“Shit, they gave me way too much Bulgogi.” Namjoon seethed. “Y/N, wanna split with me? I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all of this.” Namjoon looked at you who had already settled.

“Oh. Sure!” you smiled.

Namjoon shot Jungkook a mean spirited smile. “In your face, asshole.” he said with his eyes, even though the words never escaped his lips

DAMNIT! Jungkook felt his fist clench. He rolled his eyes. “Hey! Y/N! Pass me a napkin will ya?”

“Oh. yeah.” you threw a napkin his way before resuming your conversation with Yoongi.

Jungkook watched as Yoongi traced his fingers on your wrists as he spoke to you. His face hardened into a glare. Everyone knew he liked you, but until he made his move they wouldn’t care.

...

To say he was pissed was an understatement. He was practically steaming at the ears.

“Why were you with Hoseok?” he asks as he stormed through his room door, a hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. Surprising but not painful.

“He needed help shopping for an outfit for a photoshoot?” you raised a brow. “Why?”

“Don’t bullshit me! You were on a date!”

“Okay first of all even if I was, what business of yours is that?” you crossed your arms. “You’ve been acting pretty weird these past few days and I don’t like it!”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU PARADING YOURSELF AROUND LIKE A-”

“I dare you to fucking finish that sentence.” you warned. “You can forget you had a friend if you do.” You backed towards the door.

Jungkook grew more and more agitated. “Y/N I’m sorry.” he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Why are you acting so weird?” you sighed. “Do you not like me anymore?”

“No!!” he looked at you as if you had lost your mind. “Y/N I LOVE YOU!” he blurted out. “I’ve loved you for five fucking years ever since we met!!” he spilled his heart out. “and y-you’re putting me in an uncomfortable position!”

“Huh?” you could barely register what he said before he stormed up and captured your mouth is a kiss.

‘Kookie!” you were surprised to say the least. “You just- Hmm.” he didn’t give you time to talk as he kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He ran his fingers down your spine, holding you close.

You would have been over cloud nine...if you weren’t so angry.

“WAIT A MINUTE.” you forced yourself to step back from him. “FIVE YEARS?” you exploded. “FIVE FUCKING YEARS AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME! YOU LET ME BELIEVE YOU ONLY SAW ME AS A FRIEND FOR FIVE MISERY FILLED-...”you began pacing back and forth as you lashed out on your friend.

Jungkook just watched as you drug him for filth, calling him every name in the book.

“YOU ASSHOLE! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO HIDE MY FEELINGS AND YOU JUST COME OUT THE WATER AND TELL ME THAT- OH YOU PEICE OF-” Jungkook finally had enough and cornered you against the nearest wall.

“...I feel like... I feel like the angrier you get at me, the harder I fuck you. “ he mused aloud. “You’re in love with me? And you didn’t tell me?” he raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that somethin-”

"I am still mad at you.” you sneered. “After tonight you are dead to me.”

“Am I ?” he cooed. “So you don’t want me to...” he began fumbling with your jeans, unfastening the button with one hand.

“What are you doing?” your eyes widened. You were now more shocked that angry. “Don’t you dare-...” you felt the pads of his fingers along the line of your clothed slit.

“What? Was that a moan I just heard?” he smirked. “Come on Y/N I know you can be louder than that. Maybe if you beg enough, I’ll make you cum.” he creeped into the waistband of your panties. “Come on...beg me honey.”

“I refuse.” you looked away. “Y-you can go fu-fuuuhh-” you felt the pads of his fingers.

“I said fucking beg.” he sneered, pressing his body up against yours. “Stop being so damn stubborn. Let me hear those sounds you think nobody hears when you finger yourself in the bathrooms at midnight.”

“How did you-”

“You stink at being quiet.” he bit his lip. “Come on.” he spoke in a babyish voice, rubbing your clit. “This is how you do it to yourself, right?”

“J-jungkook.” you whimpered. “W-what are you-”you cut yourself off as you felt his fingers slip into your wetness. A loud moan erupted from your lungs.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s fucking it.” he growled. “Moan like that some more.” he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of you. “Are you thinking about me when you thrust those pretty fingers into that-”

“Don’t say it! That’s a dirty word!” you warned, while ironically mewling like a little kitty cat.

“Don’t say what? That pussy? That cunt? That soaking wet womanhood you got down there. The same pussy that’s asking me to shove my dick in there?” he smirked as he spoke.

“You d-dick!” you leaned forward, your head falling on his shoulder. “S-such as asshole.”

“ Look at me when I fuck you with my fingers.” he demanded. “Or I’ll stop completely.”

You shyly lifted you head. Jungkook thought you were so adorable and truth be told he wouldn’t have stopped. To know that you obeyed anyways was so relieving.

“Shit, I needa taste you real quick.” he moved his fingers from you and yanked down your jeans. “Kick those off for me.”

You instantly obeyed, throwing your jeans and panties off to the side. He lowered himself to his knees. “Shit, look at that.” he wasted no time in driving his tongue into you.

“Hey Jungkook!” there was a knock on the door. Jungkook had pushed you against the door, stopping anyone from opening it. You heard Jimin’s voice.

You glared down at Jungkook with warning. You knew what was gonna happen, but you were scared anyways.

“Hmmm!” he moaned loudly, driving his tongue deeper into your slit. He sucked at your clit, causing a loud cry to escape you.

“Umm is Y/N in there with you?” he called. “IS SHE HURT?!”

You tried to talk, but Jungkook had hooked your leg over his shoulder. “Come on, answer him.”

“I-I’m okay!” you found it in yourself to talk. “I’m just...a little busy!” you clenched your fist to focus on something, anything else. “Doing things!”

“Like what?”

“LIKE BEING FUCKED BY ME!” Jungkook yelled back as he rose to his feet, pants dropping around his ankles. He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You felt his cock slip into your heat. “COME BACK LATER!”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he carried you to the bed, setting you down along with himself. He slowly thrust himself into your wetness. “Damnit Y/N.” he seethed, sucking in a harsh intake of air. “Shit.” his jaw went slack.

“F-fuck.” you whimpered. “Kookie.” you whimpered.

“Y/N.” you could see the tears of pleasure forming in his eyes. “You feel so- So fucking good. Look at me, p-please?”

You didn’t tear your eyes away from him. You found it hard to. “Jungkook! I- Uh..” you were now a load, crumbling mess.

“I want to kiss you, come here.” he grabbed either side of your face and gave you a slopped kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth instantly. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum. But I don’t want to until you cum first. So I’m gonna go faster okay?” His eyes bore into yours, noses touching.

You shyly nodded, feeling his thrusts increase. You were hella sensitive, and in love with it. “Jungkook.” you moaned. “It feels-”

“I know.” he kissed you again. “Fuck, cum for me...cum for me please~” he mewled through thrusts.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. A string of curses he had never heard before along with his name spilled from your lips. Jungkook was next to cum, yanking himself from you. He spilled his cum practically all over the place. He collapsed next to you, leaving you both to stare at the ceiling.

“...I should go.”

“ No...Stay the night with me…I don’t care if it will ruin our friendship.“ he breathed out. “Y/N...I-..I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You should be.” your breath hitched. “Probably would have gotten this out of the way a lot sooner.”

Your grumpy words made him laugh a little. He lazily threw an arm around you and pulled you towards him. “I love you, for real.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. You’re mine. Only mine...”

...

I STILL GOT IT BITCHESSSS

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volleychumps · 4 years ago

Note

hey hey hey i love you & your work 🥺🥺💕 can i request hc or scenario (up to you, love) of akaashi, ushijima, & tsukki being cramped on a busy subway train with the girl they like and having to like be v close & trying to give each other room but there IS NO ROOM and ! there’s a pervert feeling her up and they see she’s Very Uncomfy and save her from it? thanks ily 💓💓 congrats on 3k

Thank you for 3.4k! Have some fwuffy scenarios you guys seem to like protective boyos tehe

Protecting their Crush on a Subway w/ Akaashi, Ushijima, and Tsukishima

Warning(s): depictions of harassment

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

Akaashi

He knew you rode this train.

It was an evident fact that stood out in his mind when he would board after a grueling practice, instantly seeing you in the same spot at the same time of the day after your own club activities, either immersed in a book or your playlist, a light tune in your throat. Akaashi would make sure to always sit on the other side, risking a glance at two at you from the other side of the subway train, always keeping a distance- yet always keeping you in sight.

And it was evident that the setter had no intentions on acting on any blooming feelings he felt emerging from your small giggles reserved for yourself, or even the tasteful choice of book of the day you flipped through. He was satiated from his distance, hands tucked away in the warmth of his pockets as he watched you hurriedly tuck your novel away and get off at your stop.

Until the day came where the distance was closed. Harshly.

He wondered where you were as the sun set and the train conductor was making their final calls, the subway growing unbearably cramped- a fact he noticed as soon as he realized your absence- not being able to handle the small quirk to the corner of his lips when you stumble on out of breath just as the final call was being heard.

Blue-green eyes watch from a peripheral view as you bite your lip at the sight of your seat being taken, looking around kind of lost before your eyes fell on his school uniform. Akaashi tilts his head, scooting just enough towards the person next to him to make room that had your eyes brightening at the motion.

Your grateful smile had both corners of his lips quirking up now, and you sit graciously in the seat next to him while whispering a small thank you, now not having to stand up and hold onto one of the rails. He simply nods, looking down at his own book but not really paying attention to it, noticing a bit too late that your leg was pressed tightly up against his. He feels the blush emerge before he can stop it, but keeps his eyes on the inked words.

But his leg wasn’t the only one yours was pressed against.

He feels you stiffen mere minutes after the train began to move, and his blue eyes drifted to his left to break the ice and talk to you-

and he wished they had sooner.

Akaashi’s eyes narrow at the sight of a dirty hand inching towards your thigh, exposed from the skirt of your school uniform. You were quiet and reserved at school (one of Akaashi’s favorite traits), and was most likely not the type to speak up when an incident like this was happening. And he wasn’t either.

Until now.

He casts a glance to your face to see you near tears, face flushed in embarrassment as you internally struggle with the choice of making a scene, prompting Akaashi to shut his book with a sharp clap, feeling your trembling increase as the hand slides up further. You feel his breath tickle your ear as you look at him slightly, watery eyes blinking in confusion.

“Excuse me, L/N-san.”

Your eyes widen a little bit when Akaashi’s arm wraps around your waist, reaching behind you to snatch the other side tightly, pulling you into his side snugly so far away from the perv next to you that your leg is almost on top of his. Akaashi ignores the thump in his ears and heat in his cheeks as he rests your head on his shoulder, lifting his head slightly to shoot a venomous glare at your perpetrator over your head.

The old man laughs nervously, deciding it was a good time to get off as the train came to a stop, nodding once to Akaashi before making a hasty exit.

Akaashi sighs, narrowing his eyes further when he saw all the extra space, signaling that the old bag had been pressing up to you on purpose. He lets go of your waist immediately, not surprised you scrambled off him as fast as you did.

“I’m sorry for acting rashly, I-”

“Thank you!” You bow deeply, now having the room to do so as the volume of the train car had lessened drastically. “A-Akaashi-san, right? I see you around school sometimes so don’t freak out, I know you’re a gentleman! How do I make it-?”

“L/N-san.”

You tilt your head, and Akaashi hums, content look on his face as he opens his book back up.

“You missed your stop.”

“You...know my...?”

“Will you allow me to walk you home when my stop comes?” Akaashi rushes out, internally beating up for his mistake before a warm smile crosses your face, the setter relaxing at the sight of it as you nod once.

“I’d like that.”

“Very well.” Akaashi clears his throat as you shift a bit closer to him despite the distance you could easily put between the two of you.

“What are you reading?”

Akaashi feels his lips curl again, anger fading away as he tilts the book in your direction to explain, legs touching one another voluntarily-

suddenly glad the distance had been closed.

Ushijima

He always stood two hand rails down from you.

The train ride home had always been a rather cramped one, but the regulars on this train were the same people who knew that the certain railing you were holding was yours at this time of the day. And Ushijima’s railing was his.

Two away.

Ushijima saw the way your face lit up when you talked to Tendou, the kind smile gracing your features enough to make a foreign feeling bump around in his chest as he stood off to the side awkwardly. Tendou had flicked your forehead, and you had pouted in his direction with the most adorable eyes-

“Are you just going to let your friend bully me?”

And then you had taken his arm, sticking your tongue out at Tendou as you pretended to begin to pull him in another direction.

“Just for being an ass, I’m stealing your one and only Ushijima~”

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE-”

But the funny thing? He found himself wanting to go in the direction you had wanted him to, your small hand wrapped around his bicep as the wing spiker tried to translate just what he was feeling.

And when you let go, he blinked. And blinked some more as you giggled and waved as you walked off, suddenly wishing Tendou hadn’t interfered as the redhead places a curse on you from afar.

He glances at you, hand loosely holding onto the holder above your head, eyes cast downward. You probably didn’t know you were on the same train, seeing that you never looked at your surroundings much due to your focus on your phone.

But he suddenly wished you looked around you before you left yourself vulnerable to the person who wasn’t a regular on the train.

Ushijima’s glances turn to a full on-stare at what was happening, eyes hardening at the sight of some geezer approaching you from behind, resting his front against you as you freeze. The brunette boy watches as your face contorts to one of fear, the phone screen turning off and stopping it’s illumination on your face.

And then you glanced around for help, instantly locking eyes with him.

Ushijima moved hastily, maneuvering around the oblivious passengers before stopping to tilt his head intimidatingly at the man pressed up behind you.

Two handrails away.

“Y/N, there you are. I was starting to think you missed the train because I didn’t see you.”

Ushijima smoothly steps between your harasser, taking his place and ignoring the slight stumbling of the pervert, keeping a respectful distance from you before his hands rest on the same handrail. Olive eyes peer down at you, his worry for you winning against the anger in his head.

He glances behind you, eyes narrowing down into a glare as the old perv whistles and looks in every direction except his, Ushijima’s height and pissed-off expression now very apparent.

“Something you needed, sir?” The words come out lacking any form of respect, and the geezer only shakes his head no hastily before making an excuse to go to the other side of the train car, leaving as the train comes to it’s next stop.

Ushijima doesn’t take his eyes off of him until he’s out the doors, huffing through his nose with a shake of his head before glancing down at you, seeing a slight quiver to your shoulders before sighing. He goes to move away, wanting to give you much-needed space-

but your hand grabbed the side of his school jacket before he could take a single step.

“U-Ushijima-Kun...”

Olive eyes widen at the tear that slipped your eye as you looked up at him, tremble in your voice.

“Could you...stay there?”

And the thump was back in his chest, Ushijima merely nodding once as you relax your grip on the side of his jacket, facing forward again as you hastily wipe at your eyes.

“Um, sorry to ask, but could we maybe ride the train together going forward-?”

“Yes.”

You turn again at his abrupt response, the kind smile filling your face in relief as Ushijima finds himself giving a content one back, tightening his grip on the railing-

now no longer two rails away.

Tsukishima

He preferred to stand.

Lesser chance that people would have to be so close to him, easier to mind his own business, his height giving him an innocent view of...

You.

You who sat with one leg crossed over the other as you absent-mindedly stared at the outside flashing by with the speed of the train, lost in your thoughts as the tall blonde who held the railing a few feet away could watch as you entered your head- void of reality. He would watch as a book lay-half open in your lap, your thumb holding your place as you watch the world from outside the train window flit by.

Tsukishima liked how lost you got.

Like the day you had bumped into him, the blonde already pissed about getting to school late before now having deal with disheveled you, jacket hanging halfway off your body and still pulling a shoe on. You had looked up at him with a doe-eyed expression, apologizing profusely as Tsukishima remained indifferent, this close to snapping before-

“Here! Take this, you’re late too so you probably didn’t get to eat anything-”

And then a pastry was shoved into his hands before you were running off into the entrance, waving backwards before turning around slightly, the blonde boy bewildered as a wide grin passed your face-

“See you around!”

Tsukishima found himself wanting to do the same as well, unwrapping the pastry that was much too sweet for the morning-

still chewing on it as he mildly walked up to the entrance you had darted off in, now not annoyed at the fact that he had been late in the first place as sugar coated his tongue.

Tsukishima kept you in his line of sight, immersed in his phone while knowing if you had caught him it would probably be translated as some creepy action, but you never had looked away from the outside. He wondered what would happen in the case that you did, knowing he surely wouldn’t be trying to get your attention-

And he suddenly wished you would look away to notice the odd man oh-so-casually gripping the railing that was in front of your seat, stepping in front of you with no good-intentions behind his smirk.

Tsukishima loses his grip on the railing above as the man begins to talk you up, you flinching at the sound of the voice in surprise before innocently peering up at him with that same doe-eyed expression-

the look on your face a bit too familiar with the blonde as the man nears even closer, a look of uncomfort passing over your face as it looks like you’re kindly telling him that you’re still a high-schooler.

Tsukishima feels his jaw clench when the stranger grabs a few strands of your hair, rubbing it between his fingers as you flinch away, his hand darting out to grab your face-

“Oji-chan, that’s not a very nice way to touch a girl, is it?”

The smile on Tsukishima’s face was feigned so-obviously, golden-brown eyes spinning in a dangerous glint as he tilts his head, smile straining as he raises his voice.

“If I didn’t know any better, it would be harrassment if that girl didn’t like it- oh! Is she crying?” Tsukishima clicks his tongue as the onlookers begin to take their phones out, whispering amongst themselves in judgement as the perpetrator stumbles over his words.

He casts a glare to the blonde as Tsukishima’s grin only widens, scoffing before getting off the train as it comes to it’s next stop. Tsukishima ignores the applause when the perverted man steps off, merely stepping in front of you and gripping the railing above as you look up at him with eyes brimmed with tears.

The grin fades as Tsukishima sighs, collapsing in the now-open seat next to you before looking straight ahead, voice now it’s signature monotone as he sits his bag next to him.

“Oi. You can cry. I won’t judge you. Much.”

And he doesn’t stop you as you lean your head on his shoulder and let your tears of relief slip freely down your cheeks, the blonde shooting glares at anyone sending you pitiful looks until your stop comes. You wipe away your tears hastily, looking behind you in confusion when Tsukishima grabs his bag to get up with you.

“What-?”

“Are you dense? I’m walking you home.” Tsukishima glares at you, daring you to comment on it before grabbing your forearm and dragging you off the train, your sniffling filling his ears as he begins to walk out of the station.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” You manage out after directing him to where your house is, the blonde still three steps in front of you as his hold on your forearm tightens just a little more.

“Wait for me after school. You’re riding with me from now on.”

“But-”

“Okay? Goodnight.”

Tsukishima turns on his heel, wishing he could hear your door open to ensure you get in okay before your voice makes him stop mid-step.

“T-Thank you! I’ll be waiting after school...Tsukishima-Kun.”

The blonde glances behind him, lips curling up into a smirk at the sight of a pretty smile now filling your face in the moonlight.

“You won’t get lost when you’re with me, idiot. Let me see you go in before I change my mind.”

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

General Works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046 @aprettyfruit @therestless101 @dai-tsukki-desu @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @wisepandaslimeland @deadontheinsidebut @lmkjimin @h0ngh0ngh0ng @theworldupthere @itz-tooru @orangegiraffe7

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi keiji #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu ushiwaka #ushijima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff

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tennessoui · 3 years ago

Note

for obikin, maybe pretending to hate each other au? (sth where their ages are a little closer, perhaps, so obi-wan can be intensely petty and not feel the need to Set an Example)

45. (Pretending To) Hate Each Other (raised as Sith!Anakin, salty!Padawan Obi-Wan)(1.6k)

Obi-Wan turns away from the training stalles with a barely suppressed sneer. Anakin, as he is to be called, has defeated his opponents. His fellow Padawans. Darth Vader has become a Padawan and everyone is just fine with it.

Obi-Wan marches out into the halls, not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he must get away from the smirk on Anakin’s face as he had lowered his training saber to his opponent’s neck. Does no one but Obi-Wan remember how just months ago Vader’s saber had been pressed against his neck and it hadn’t been a training exercise? Does no one remember the atrocities Anakin had committed, the sentients Anakin had killed?

And yet Obi-Wan’s master seems infinitely fascinated by the boy. And yet Obi-Wan, it seems, cannot step out of his own room without finding this Anakin underfoot, either taking tea with his Master, or dolefully skulking around the doorway of Obi-Wan’s quarters. What draws the boy, he has no lasting idea.

They’re approximately the same age, he supposes, although Obi-Wan has a few years at least on Anakin--it’s clearer to see now that Anakin has stopped wearing his helmet and armor into battle, now that the lines of his face are not hardened by scowls and snarls. Really, he’s a boy. His medical chart puts him at eighteen, making him four years Obi-Wan’s junior.

And, he supposes, Qui-Gon was the one to find Anakin wounded on the battlefield, the one to insist they treat the Sith, heal him, and give him shelter. But Obi-Wan was the one who had found the slave chip embedded between his ribcage, the one who had alerted the Council to its presence, so it could be used to find the boy’s master, to capture him or kill him, to end the war.

But surely, whatever small part Obi-Wan had played in the war’s conclusion, the Force should have known better than to repay him by gifting him with the care and keeping of a Sith Lord, Chosen One or not.

Although Obi-Wan can admit, even if only to himself, that it’s worse when Vader latches onto anyone else in the Temple. His master is too starry-eyed by his ideas of Vader’s midichlorians, his destiny as the Chosen One, to see the boy in front of him now.

And anyone younger than Vader is too easily swayed by his looks, his charm, his disgustingly transparent eagerness to know about the Temple, about the Jedi way of life.

Obi-Wan knows this. He’s fought a Sith at 20, fended it off after it dealt a nearly fatal blow to his Master. They cannot be reasoned with. Vader cannot be reasoned with.

Anakin exists only as a figment of their imaginations, their desire to have the Chosen One fly under the Jedi colors. He is not real, not anymore.

Gradually, Obi-Wan finds himself making his way up the stairs of the Jedi Temple. Of all the spots to hide--to sulk, as his Master would say--the rooftop is the one least likely to be checked. It is one of Obi-Wan’s favorite areas in the entire building.

But he had not thought to check for stragglers before arriving at his destination, had thought the thunderstorms of his own Force presence would keep others at bay. He hadn’t yet figured Vader into his calculations, hadn’t remembered the propensity Vader had for showing up right when Obi-Wan least wanted him to.

“You left,” Vader--Anakin--whoever accuses, as Obi-Wan sits down on the rooftop. The wind howls around them. Obi-Wan has the distinct thought that they’ve lived through this before, that last time Vader had cornered him on a rooftop, he had threatened to take a piece of his body home to his Master. Now, Vader is standing in his home.

Obi-Wan takes a very deep breath and banishes those sorts of thoughts. Anakin, he reminds himself. Anakin.

And just as importantly, the chip. There had been a chip. Not controlling Va--Anakin’s thoughts, but certainly controlling his actions. What he would do to survive is no different from what Obi-Wan had done to survive; they had just been on opposite sides of the war.

Is Obi-Wan weak for not being able to move past that? For not being able to greet the boy--the man--Anakin with open arms into the folds of his family?

“I did,” Obi-Wan replies, keeping his eyes on what he can see of the city skyline.

Anakin steps closer. “Why?”

He turns to face him, takes in his sweaty appearance and messy tunics. He must have been looking for Obi-Wan’s reaction. He must have seen the exact moment Obi-Wan had turned, must have scrambled to cloth himself as he followed after.

“Why does it matter?” He asks instead of answering, always instead of answering.

“Because I wanted you to watch,” Vader says.

“I’ve seen you kill Padawans before,” Obi-Wan turns away and stands up until he can lean against the high protective walls of the roof. “I wasn’t impressed.”

Vader feels frustrated in the Force. No. Anakin.

Anakin. “It was a training exercise.”

“Now,” Obi-Wan points out. “Or do you mean then?”

“Would you hate me if I said both?” “I hate you now, Vader.” The other boy’s Force signature withdraws, flinching away from Obi-Wan’s ire. He hears him sit down. He’d rather throw him off the roof.

But: “Don’t call me that,” the boy pleads quietly. “I know I can’t--that I don’t--” he cuts himself off and grows quiet.

Obi-Wan would say something to break the silence, but he doesn’t want to engage the boy if he doesn’t have to. If he closes his eyes, he can feel and see the Force raging around them, violently buffering them as it demands some sort of denouement.

The boy inhales and stands again, stepping forward hesitantly until he’s a scant foot away from Obi-Wan. “My mom always told me she thought for ages about my name. That it had come to her in a dream after I was already a month old, that it was bad luck to have waited for so long to name me because infants on Tatooine can die as quickly as their mothers.

“And then I...I couldn’t use it or hear it or speak it for so long that I think I almost forgot it, almost lost it to Sidious and...and Vader. So even if you hate me, and I know you should hate me, I know I’ve never done anything to you that cancels out the bad I’ve done to you, but. Please don’t call me that. I think it would have made her sad."

Obi-Wan works his jaw as he stares off into the city. He doesn’t think V--Anakin has ever said so many words to him. If he gives in now, he’d be just as bad as the other padawans who had welcomed Anakin in amongst them because of his big eyes and soft lips and earnest enthusiasm.

Anakin seems to take his silence as permission to continue, which it isn’t. “And I know I’m not. That I can’t be--won’t ever be a Padawan, or a Jedi Knight, that. That I’ll never wear a braid or anything. I’m not--I don’t want another Master. I never want another Master.”

Obi-Wan turns his head just enough to look at Anakin. He’s spent an awfully long amount of time hanging around Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s quarters if he doesn’t want a Master. But...what he’s saying makes sense, and, more importantly than that, soothes the furious emotions in Obi-Wan’s chest enough that he can speak. “Then I can’t understand why.” Why you’re here, why you won’t leave me alone, why you chose to follow me if you’re not trying to dispose of me and take my Master for yours.

Anakin sighs, leaning his head on his hands as he looks out at the city. Obi-Wan finds himself annoyed with that as well, even though he’d just been doing the same thing. Now he can’t tear his eyes away from Anakin’s profile.

“You’re warm in the Force,” Anakin says eventually. “I think maybe I spent too long in space, because I’m always cold. Except when I’m around you. You burn. You always have. I used to think that maybe--it was hatred or disgust at me, when I met you in battle, and you were an inferno. But you burn when you’re on creche duty too. A different kind of fire, but still so warm. It’s just your soul. It’s just who you are.”

Obi-Wan blinks open-mouthed at him. He’s never considered the thought that Vader--Anakin--had been trailing after him for anything other than easy access to his Master. Now he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say.

There’s a part of him that still doesn’t understand what Anakin wants to get out of his tenancy at the Temple, a part that whispers that the Sith can’t be trusted, no matter how blue they can make their eyes look. But the Jedi part of Obi-Wan is bigger.

The Jedi part of Obi-Wan tells him to extend his hand just enough to brush against Anakin’s exposed wrist. It’s a point of vulnerability the boy doesn’t shy away from.

“Would you…” he asks slowly, forcing the words out of his tight throat. “Like to meditate with me?”

Anakin looks astonished, then hopeful, then disappointed, then dejected. “I’m no good at meditating,” he says, scuffing the point of his shoe on the ground. “It wasn’t a huge part of my...former Master’s curriculum, and the Force is just so loud in my head that it’s hard to do anything but react.”

He looks up at Obi-Wan through his eyelashes, biting his lip as if he’s afraid that he’ll be turned away for this.

Instead, Obi-Wan turns fully to face him and latches onto his flesh hand. “There are some things, I’ve found,” he murmurs, leading them away from the edge of the roof before pulling Anakin down to sit cross-legged in front of him, “that are much easier done with someone else. Done together.”

#that last line shows up in anakin's wedding vows #like eight years later #and obi-wan thinks anakins making fun of him #but really that was just the moment sith!anakin decided obi-wan would singularly possess his heart and soul for the rest of his life #of course he was gonna quote it in the wedding vows #OBi-WAN #what did you expect?? him to quote the line about killing padawans??#asks #obikin #my fics #omg im so happy i told myself when i finished writing and posting this i would get to eat two gyoza and now its gyoza time #its also 12:33 am #but most importantly its gyoza time #prompt fill

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smutsonian · 4 years ago

Note

Ma'am I had this idea. Outrageous but I did😂😂. Dark! Colin Shea. Can u imagine. Him acting all friendly but his intentions r not so good. So I can't sleep now. Yay😂😂

Heyy! So another movie I haven’t seen 🤭 But it’s basically like a Neighbor AU situation, right?

I’m going to try something, I guess 😂

safe hands

colin shea x reader

warnings: smut! dark fic! noncon! drunk reader, innocent reader, stalking, obsession, loss of virginity, dark!colin, not proofread

wc: 1606

a/n: not me writing for characters i dont even know... @jack-skellingtons-stuff hope ur sleepin well now sdkskskkd

masterlist

So Colin...

Probably a boy next door

Like literally. You just moved and he’s your next-door neighbor.

So, imagine you... A young pretty little thing that’s fresh out of college and is looking for a job but you’re just this awkward little ball of sunshine that keeps messing everything up.

You never even go out of your apartment unless it’s for an interview, even then, you so dread those stuff.

“You’re a freaking adult now! Why can’t you just act normal and do adult... stuff?!” You would chide yourself in front of a mirror, groaning in desperation at your lack of... experience? Like workwise.

Hey, there are people working from home. Maybe you can do that?

And you did. And you actually found one which is great for your adulthood but not great for you because you never go out of your apartment anymore. At all.

That’s when Colin comes in.

He was there when you moved in, expecting you to greet him like every girl who sees him. He really gets em easily. I mean... look at him.

So he watched you as you brought boxes in which there was not much. There were like 3 boxes, maybe 5 but not more. He watched you with amusement as you were too busy grunting at the boxes, missing his nude form by his door, only a small towel to cover himself.

He takes a bite of his apple, obnoxiously chewing to catch your reaction but he was met with a slam of your door.

Since then, he has become fond of you.

He’d watch you as you went in and out of your apartment in those cute little skirts and wonderful blouses and every time, it’s a sight for him.

He eventually found out that you’re going to job interviews and he found himself following you and witnessing some of those awkward interviews and he finds himself growing more fond of you. Even got himself thinking that he might actually like you... Is that even possible? He’s Colin Shea. He doesn’t settle down.

But for you, he might.

He saw how you would block everything out and he listened to your late-night talks with yourself and he can’t help but think about how adorable you are. How helpless you are. Something ignited in him and all he wants to do now is be there for you. Protect you. Take care of you.

Imagine his reaction when you’re no longer getting out of your apartment.

So he finally decides to meet you. Or for you to meet him. He knows so much about you already but he won’t say that to you.

A knock forces you away from your laptop. You open the door to find a man staring down at you with a friendly smile.

“Umm, hi? D-did I, Was I making any noise or something?” Your stuttering would make Colin’s heart leap out of his chest and the way you're dressed down with shorts and a huge sweater only made his heart swell even more.

“Uh hi! I’m Colin! I’m your neighbor! I uh... Was going to ask a favor, if that’s alright?” He smiles shyly at you.

“Um, yeah! What’s up?” You smile awkwardly, silently praying for him to leave already. Not that he was annoying. You were just not used to this... And besides, you’re doing work.

“I locked myself out of my apartment and I tried talking to the office but I guess they’re already out. I mean it’s pretty late.” He looks down at his wristwatch before looking at you with a hopeful smile making your heart beat faster. Not because of his boyish cute smile but because the idea of a stranger being with you just doesn’t sit right.

But it would be more awkward to deny him now, would it?

“It’ll be as if I wasn’t here. I promise. Just need somewhere to spend the night. I mean I can sleep by my door but that would be--”

“Y-yeah, I guess you can stay for a while.” You give him a small smile which Colin found extremely adorable which then made him grin. A grin that soon fell when he took a look around your apartment.

He watches as you make your way back to your laptop, quickly getting back into your zone. His heart falls at the sight. Is that what you’ve been doing the whole day?

“Have you eaten?” He finds himself asking, not being able to resist.

He watches your face contort into confusion and he would’ve awed at the sight but your reply made him somewhat angry.

“I guess not... Did you want anything?” You pull yourself away from your laptop once more and Colin didn’t know if he liked the idea of you preparing his food but nothing for yourself.

What a sweet girl...

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll order take-out!” Colin cheered before pulling out his phone, wiggling his eyebrows at your shocked expression.

That’s how you find yourself eating pizza while watching some show on the telly.

Then those nights became a thing.

Colin would often visit you, making sure that you eat and take a break from work because he said that you tend to overwork yourself.

“You’re not my mom!” You’d playfully slap his chest.

“Well, I might as well be!” He’ll take your wrist before dragging you towards your bed and forcing you to watch another batch of comedy shows.

He’d be laughing at the show so much that you find yourself laughing as well.

You would no longer feel so stressed.

But then things went badly.

The company you were working for decided to let some employees go and unfortunately, those who work from home weren’t as important as those who work in the office.

You cried in Colin’s arms that night.

Colin did feel sorry for you. But maybe it’s for the best. Even the universe thinks you shouldn’t be working like that. He’s there to take care of you. You would no longer have to stress yourself out to live.

He’ll make sure to take good care of you.

Then the drinks came up.

One bottle of beer. Then two. Then three.

Honestly, you lost count.

Colin didn’t. He didn’t drink any.

He’d watch you with a smile as you’re sad and brooding aura turned into a giggly one.

“I’m sleepy...” You would mutter, head falling down Colin’s shoulder and he would embrace you happily, stroking the side of your face gently.

He’ll smile at the way you would squeal when he carries you to your bed.

“You enjoy being relaxed, babe?” He asks, taking your socks off. Then your shorts and shirt that went unnoticed by you.

“Too hot!” You’d fan yourself with your hand which Colin would take.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He’ll press a kiss on your forehead that’ll make you giggle.

Colin would watch your naked body, touch your warm skin with patience.

“So beautiful... And all for me, right?” He presses a kiss on your lips and you nod at whatever it is he’s saying.

He’ll easily play your body, making you and himself feel good. His fingers would play with your clit while his mouth laps on your nipples, taking turns from left and right.

He’d bask at the sound of your moans and whimpers that went straight to his hardening cock.

He’ll only stop when you’re drunkenly begging for more which he happily gives.

His hard cock would be poking your entrance and as he pushes in slowly, your eyes would widen, suddenly not so drunk anymore.

“Colin?” Your frightened voice alerts Colin and he would shush you with a kiss.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I got you... I got you...” He whispers before pushing in, swallowing your cries with lustful kisses.

“God!” He moans when he’s fully seethed in, your walls hugging his cock. He stays there for a while, listening to your heavy breathing and slightly feeling guilty at your cries.

“Ahh...” You cry out when he slowly pulls out. He’d kiss your tears away before slowly pushing back in, pulling your body closer to his in a hug, whispering promises about feeling better soon.

And you did.

Your cries turned into moans which motivated Colin to thrust faster yet still careful to not hurt you. He didn’t even have to ask because when he looked down at his cock, he saw little blood, and his jaw clenched, feeling some sort of remorse.

“You’re doing good, You’re so good to me.” He whispers before resuming his thrusts. He’d dwell at the sound of your pleasured moans and his hand would find its way down your clit, fingers playing with the nub until your body was shaking violently underneath him.

“You gonna cum? Cum for me, baby... You’re good. You’re safe...” He grunts at how your walls are tightening around him. You whimper before curling against his body, unknowingly pulling his body closer to yours.

He shivers before cumming as well, his seeds filling your hole, making you drip with his cum. He places a loving kiss on your forehead before pulling out.

The mixture of blood and his cum makes him get a cloth before gently cleaning you up, being extra careful when he wiped at your core.

He cleans himself up before lying back beside you. He presses a kiss on the side of your head, your nose, and then your lips.

“I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore...” He places a hand on your stomach before smiling and pulling the covers over the both of you.

You’re in safe hands.

---

a/n: see i dont think i should write for these guys (from movies i haven’t watched/too lazy to watch) because im probs messing up a lot skskks anyway hope y’all think this one is alright! also im a sucker for innocent reader jcnavn

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General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @empath-bunny @belovedcherry @white-wolf1940 @the-soulofdevil @mianorth @littlegasps

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Chris and seb: @harrysthiccthighss

#colin shea x reader #colin shea imagine #dark fic teaser #dark!fic #dark colin shea #dark colin shea x reader #dark!colin shea #dark!colin shea x reader #innocent reader #innocent!reader

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caelimonoceros · 3 years ago

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moonlight — childe

pairing: childe x gn!reader

wc: 1.9k

tags: fluff, it’s just fluff, established relationship, i guess a lil light angst if you squint, childe lovable dork number one

notes: of course my first piece is about childe my one and only…my beloved…please come give me some constellations <3 pls enjoy! i’m planning on writing some more similar pieces with some other characters but i really wanted to post this one now tehe…interacts/reblogs appreciated!

Just as the moon guides the tides in and out of the shore, she pulls you to him—Childe, quiet in his solitude and unsuspectingly calm on the beach.

You find him on the beach just north of Liyue Harbor, on a long stretch of tan sand with a sheet spread out under him. Uneven rocks pin down the corners of the makeshift sand-protection, and you can make out the shape of the Harbinger’s jacket and boots settled next to him.

Upon hearing your soft footsteps crunching on the sand, Childe perks up. The slight curve of his posture, betraying a weeks-old exhaustion, straightens into a bright smile and a cheery wave, the welcoming facade he throws around to unsuspecting strangers who won’t ever make the plunge into the depths of his heart. Blue eyes, blue like the ocean and the cosmos and the frost on your skin after too many hours spent trekking around Dragonspine, pierce the dim night, only lit up by the small lantern next to him and the faint blue glow of his vision. They give his skin an unearthly glow, the warm light of the lantern bringing out copper highlights in his hair while the blue of his vision drives deep shadows into the far side of his face.

The night is peaceful in its simplicity, watched by the careful eyes of the moon and her starry companions. Childe’s smile brightens as you settle next to him, kicking off your own shoes and stretching out across the oversized blanket. Your own bag, full of warm midnight snacks and soft blankets, hits the ground as you do, and rolls with a soft thud.

“You made it,” Childe inches closer, quick to put his hand over yours and fold your fingers together. You let him, settling your joined hands over one of your thighs and sitting to lean against his shoulder.

“Yea. The slimes didn’t drench me.” You huff, eyes pointed out towards the water; then slowly drifting over to him.

“Well, since the slimes didn’t get to you, I was thinking…” Childe rubs a gloved thumb over the back of your hand, directing your attention. The leather is rough against your skin, worn equally from working a weapon and signing bank documents.

“Your ideas are always awful. I wanna know,” you lean into him.

“Midnight swim!” He says cheerfully, pointing out towards the water with his free hand. “The weather has been so warm lately that I’m sure the water will be as well. Plus, it’s just the two of us! Wouldn't that be nice?” Oh, you don’t want to crush his dreams and his eager, giddy smile, but you are not going in that water. No thanks, you are perfectly content to stay warm and dry on your big, spread out blanket and watch Childe make a shivering fool of himself before he comes back and soaks his half of the blanket.

“I’m not going in the water, especially not in my clothes, Childe. It’s cold out.” Childe blinks at you, as if he doesn’t understand the problem for a moment before sighing, as if he knew this would be your answer.

“Fine. But I’m going to go in, and I'm sure you’ll join me in no less than five minutes!” He says it so confidently, living up to his namesake so easily that it makes you swallow down laughter. The tall Fatui makes sure to blow you a dramatic kiss from the water’s edge, before he turns his back entirely. Really, you are completely content to watch him enjoy himself in the shallows. It’s refreshing to see him so light on his feet and in his words.

The soft moonlight illuminates his back, drawing out the folds of his dark shirt. The metal accessories around his belt glimmer in the cool light as well, twinkling like stars at you, but you’re almost mesmerized as you chase the patterns of moonlight across his ever-moving form. The water is so clear, reflecting him and the mountains situated behind you, every trace of silvery-white light that dances down an uneven slope or a curving tree branch rippling amongst your lover’s own reflection.

“You know, the water’s still warm!” Childe calls after a few minutes of peace. He’s rolled his pants up to just under his knees, but they’re still being soaked by waves of water. From your warm, dry, position on the shore you’re inclined to protest, but a shimmer in cerulean eyes not brought on by the moon or stars cuts your words before they can begin. He begins making his way over to you, sloshing through the water and then up onto the sand.

“C’mon, just stick your feet in. I promise I won’t let you drown.” You roll your eyes at his proposition; the way he walks so arrogantly over to you and crouches ever so slightly, extending a hand to you. He’s tracked wet sand onto your clean, safe haven, and his wet pants are dripping seawater on your bare shins, but you still hold your tongue all the same.

“Please? It’ll be fun. You don’t have to, but I think you’d enjoy it.” The Fatui offers his hand with a little bit of a wave this time, and you give in to his easy smile and comforting presence. It’s hard not to, hard to resist the way he sweeps you into the ocean, the same way he’s already swept you away entirely like a pebble torn from shore.

The water is still warm, but it’s still much cooler than your skin and you shudder as you’re exposed to it much too quickly. Childe’s grip on your hand is too tight, his excitement adorably obvious as you come to a halt some ten feet into the water, where it rises just above your hips.

“See? It’s not bad at all.” Childe leans down, his face mere inches from yours, and sticks his tongue out playfully. You resist the urge to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, instead flicking his forehead gently, just enough for him to recoil as if you’ve shot him and dramatically clasp a hand over his head.

“It’s not bad at all,” you mimic, unable to stop yourself from laughing at the ginger’s over-the-top reaction. Cute, he’s so cute sometimes and you doubt he truly knows it, cute when he drops something from his chopsticks or shoots an arrow into the ground or trips over a loose rock when he’s pretending not to stare at you. Cute when his guard is down, when he’s not a battle-hardened warrior and traces of the myth you know to be named Ajax are allowed through the ever-present cracks in his facade. Just as you’re lost in thought, a spray of salty water meets your face, and you close your eyes and cross an arm over your forehead quickly.

“That was uncalled for!” You complain, but it trails off into laughter as you return the splash back at Childe.

“Hey, your aim’s not half bad!” He’s even quicker to fire back, and soon the water around you both churns enough to drown out your shared laughter. Your clumsy feet, weighed down by your movements kick up sand and cloud the water, and you brush grit from your face and hair after a particularly well-aimed splash flattens it down your back.

“That’s practically an insult, coming from you.”

“My aim isn’t that bad!” Fake offense riddles his tone, one hand placed over his poor, scandalized heart.

“Will you be less arrogant if I tell you I’m enjoying myself?” You dodge most of another splash, but even when you’re complaining you find your jaw beginning to ache from a wide smile.

“So much for staying out of the water,” Childe taunts, gesturing to the soaking mess you’ve become. He’s no better, water dripping down his face in rivulets, blinking the salt away from his eyes instinctively and pushing the wet hair back from his view.

“This is your fault, you know,” you tell him, but the complaint holds little water. He lets you splash him again, a full wave that hits against his chest, and you take another step closer to him—just close enough for him to hook a gangly leg around your own and pull you down, spinning gracefully and catching you just as your hair begins to fan out in the water. One arm holds securely under the middle of your back, while the other settles on your hip.

“You just can’t stay away from me, I know.” The smug confidence he wears is equally endearing and enraging. You begin to counter him with an asshole—, one hand moving up to poke his cheek, but before you can make contact he completely retracts his arms and you submerge with a shriek. When you come up moments later, coughing and spluttering in surprise, Childe is laughing so hard that he’s bent over with his hands on his knees. He’s completely unsuspecting, the perfect target for you to grab the back of his head and shove his face into the water, too.

Except, Childe topples over his own long legs, the two of you falling down messily and his head bumping against your knee as you land flat on your butt. He makes a face, rubbing his cheeks as he kneels. Despite how you joke around, it’s clear that the bump actually hurt, and you can’t help but feel a little pang of guilt at the genuine pain he displayed. Holding his head, Childe moves closer, until he’s easily looming over you with your hands braced against the sand and the water level just under your chin.

“You’re so difficult,” he sighs, your foreheads pressed together. The feeling of salt grinding between your skin is just on the edge of unpleasant, but nowhere near enough to make you back away. “Nearly gave me a black eye there.”

“Aren’t we both?” You smile in response, cupping a cool, wet hand over the cheek he’d hit on your leg. His eyes flutter closed, and he breathes out a sigh against your nose as tension visibly drains from his shoulders. It’s like the final traces of his daily life have fallen away with just your touch—gone is the hedonistic Childe, the calculating Tartaglia, leaving only the scattered fragments of a Snezhnayan boy far from home. Even at peace, there’s a longing in the way he looks at you—eyes wide as if in disbelief, unable to hold your gaze with all of his defenses stripped down.

“Yea. We are,” he concedes—so quiet that you barely make out the words over the sound of the wind and the soft movements of water. Difficult, and he’s right: nothing involving a Fatui Harbinger will ever be easy.

“I think you’re well worth the trouble,” you confess, letting your eyes meet his. They don’t shy away this time, there’s a blue fire blazing somewhere in the back of his soul that warms your cheeks and has your free hand clenching the sand underneath. Certainly well worth the trouble, for all of the moments he looks at you like this—holding the intensity of a thousand suns and all of the love and guidance offered by the moon, an entire universe dancing in his usually lifeless eyes.

And the trouble is most worth it when Ajax—not Childe, not Tartaglia, but Ajax, closes the miniscule gap and kisses you under the witness of the moon—you can be at ease.

“I am?” He teases, a whisper against your lips. You roll your eyes before the hand on his cheek slips to the back of his head, and you pull him close once more.

#viv writes #genshin x reader #genshin x reader fluff #genshin #childe #childe x reader #gn!reader #fluff #genshin fluff #short fic

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whumperooni · 4 years ago

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Imagine being such a perfect little angel for papa enji. Always taking care of him. Scrubbing him when he’s in the bath, rubbing his shoulders and drying him off when he gets out the bath. Maybe you even stroke his cock when he’s in there. When you go out with your friends for lunch, you always bring him something back like his favourite cake or something. You make sure he has dinner ready for him when he comes home, sitting in his lap and bouncing on his cock slowly as he eats. Sucking him off after a long day being a hero. Telling Daddy how much you love him, how you’ll always be his as he looks at you with a look that only a father can give his little girl. You always make sure his hero costume is clean and ready for work. You always do as daddy says and he loves his little girl for it 😭😭

Please this makes me so somft ♡

tags/warnings: tw incest, blowjobs, a touch of somft, tw grooming

♡♡♡♡♡

“Daddy, wait! I made you lunch!” Enji blinks and pauses in the doorway, head turning back to find his little girl bounding over to him. You’re still dressed in your bedclothes- a thin, silky nightgown and fuzzy slippers, a robe that’s slipped off your shoulder- and Enji huffs at that, huffs at the sleep that’s still written all over your face. You press a bento box into his hands and a kiss to his cheek- one that he returns with a grunt whenever you peer up at him with expectant, drowsy eyes. “Have a good day at work, daddy! I love you!” “I love you too, little one.”

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺ “Aw, Endeavor, did your little girl make that for you? How cute.” Enji grunts and he shoulders away Hawks when the boy peers over his shoulder, ignores the pout that pops up on the hero’s face. “You’re so lucky! I want someone to make me lunch,” Hawks whines, trying to creep his hand over Enji’s other shoulder to grab the food. Enji scowls and he shoulders the boy away, finds himself curling protectively around his lunch as feathers begin to shiver. “Hey, come on- let me try a bite!” “No.” “You’re so stingy! That’s not befitting of the number one hero, ya know!” “You have your own lunch,” Enji points out in a snap. “Not one made with love and care! C’mon- just one bite!” “I said no.” Hawks huffs and he plops down next to Enji- crowding his space like he always does, obnoxious wings beating against Enji’s back and making him huff. A little smirk plays across the flame hero’s face as he watches the boy unwrap a store bought sandwich and the usual annoyance of crinkling cellophane goes unnoticed as Enji takes a bite of karaage. It’s delicious- as usual- and Enji smiles as he slowly eats the lunch his daughter had so lovingly prepared for him. ➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺ Hero work is good work- honorable work- but it leads to very long days. Enji is tired by the time he gets home- weary from a day full of catching bad guys and filing endless paperwork, dealing with the expectations of the public and the burden of self-righteousness. You greet him when he gets home as always- a tumbler of bourbon in your hands neat and so welcome, a smile on your face. The kiss you press to his cheek is soft and sweet and Enji hums as he returns it- lips brushing just against the corner of yours. “Daddy, how was your day?” “It was fine.” You nod, accepting that, and follow after him as he heads toward the den- your soft footsteps lost under the sounds of his thundering ones. Enji sits himself in his armchair and you take your rightful place on his lap- hand lightly landing on his chest and your gaze fond as you watch him take a drink. “I made udon tonight, daddy,” you tell him, hand working up to loosen his tie and undo one button, two. Enji hums as your fingers stroke over the scarred, bared flesh of his chest and takes another drink, allows his lashes to lower. “But I can draw you a bath first if you want to relax before dinner.” A bath does sound good- it’s just what he needs to unwind after a long day. “I’d like that, little one.” Your face lights up and you nod- only getting up after you press another adoring kiss to his cheek. Enji watches you leave- dress swishing along your thighs- and he slowly drains the rest of his bourbon, allows himself to relax in the comfort of his home. He has such a good daughter. It’s such a shame that the others can’t be like you. ➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺ “Is it warm enough, daddy?” Enji hums in response- eyes opening and flitting to the side to drink in the sight of you knelt by the bathtub. You have a smile on your face- soft and content- and your hands are just as soft as they run over his body, wash him off with a gentle touch. No one else has ever treated him the way you do- with pure admiration and respect, a never-ending love and a sweet, subservient adoration. You treat him kindly, wonderfully and he knows deep in his heart that he doesn’t deserve it. He accepts it all the same, though. “I’m going to do the shopping tomorrow,” you murmur- fingers kneading along his bicep and working up to his shoulders. You rise, just slightly, with it and Enji’s eyes draw half-shut as your bosom presses against him. “Can I pick anything up for you?” “No, but I need my suit taken to the dry cleaners.” “The navy one? I’ll drop it off.” Enji nods and you hum softly, press against him more as you reach over to his other shoulder. He enjoys your gentle ministrations and he relaxes under your touch, relaxes more when your nails gently scratch through the hair at the base of his skull. “Daddy, do you want me to shave you tonight?” you ask, fingers glancing along his jaw and over the stubble gathered there. “I sharpened your straight razor.”

Enji considers the idea- he does enjoy it; he enjoys the intimacy of the moment, the look of concentration that graces your face, and how you touch him as if you’re afraid that you’ll hurt him- as if you somehow truly believe that your tiny hands could possibly do harm to your six and a half feet tall, built like a brick house, number one hero father. It’s amusing, really.

You’re amusing. “You can do it in the morning,” Enji decides on, leaning back against the bath. Another hum and your hands move down over his chest, glide in slow circles to lather him up. You wash him attentively- loving and sweet with your gentle touches- and Enji nearly sighs at the quiet contentment flaring in his chest, at the fondness that he will never admit he feels out loud. Your hands work over his cock- soft and sweet- and Enji shakes his head when you look up at him, rumbles out a “later” that you simply nod at. “Okay, daddy.” You go back to washing him and Enji closes his eyes, tilts his head back and soaks in your touch, allows himself to feel satisfied over just how well he’s raised you. ➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺ “Daddy, was dinner okay?” “It was good, little one.” A smile pops onto your face and Enji nearly smiles back, hides it with a draw from his cigar. You’re perched on his lap again- dressed in his favorite nightgown, his hand on your soft thigh. You’ve taken a bath of your own and Enji can smell the scent of your shampoo, the light fragrance of your lotion. When he rubs over your thigh, your lashes flutter and his own draw half-shut whenever you curl a little closer. Such a good girl- so loving and kind, so receptive to your father. A darling daughter, a perfect little housewife for him.

You’re the last bit of kindness that Rei graced him with. He should do more for her, thank her more sincerely for gifting him with a beautiful daughter to dote and protect, cherish and fuck and use to soothe all the stress of his career, your less ideal siblings.

Enji takes another draw from his cigar and he squeezes the plush flesh of your hip, relaxes back into the chair as his cock stirs. “Little one.” A blink, a smile up at him, a soft little hum and a brush of your thighs. You nuzzle against him and the soft “yes, daddy?” you let out sets something hungry in his chest, hardens his cock to full mast. “Take care of daddy,” he tells you- casual, eyes running over you and flicking away as he ashes his cigar. “Put your pretty mouth to work.” A tiny noise bubbles from your throat and you nod- lips pressing to his jaw before you slide off Enji’s lap and onto your knees. When his legs part, you shuffle forward and Enji watches as you tuck your hair behind your ear, takes a puff from his cigar when your hands smooth over his thighs and deftly take out his cock. The lick you give has him exhaling deeply and Enji reaches down to pet over your hair as you place open mouthed kisses to his cock, brushes a few strands from your face. You nuzzle into his palm just for a moment- adoring and sweet- and Enji hums when your soft lips graze over the head of his cock, part wider to take him into your mouth. “Good girl.” Lashes fluttering, you mewl around him and Enji soaks in the way your cheeks flush, the way your tongue flicks across his head as you pull off to look up at him an adoring gaze. “I love you daddy,” you whisper- hand wrapping around his cock. “I love you too, little one.” Smiling, you take his cock back into your mouth and Enji’s fingers curl into your hair, his lips flicker with a smile as his sweet daughter swallows him down all the way to the base, lifts a hand to gently rub his balls. Enji smokes and he slowly pets over his daughter’s hair- utterly relaxed and completely content as you take care of your father in the only way a good daughter can.

#enji x reader #rooni's shit #tw incest #Anonymous #tw grooming

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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years ago

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 6: Negotiations in Pain & Pleasure

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: The summary is smut, good, fun, BDSM smut, and aftercare. OR, Frankie needs to let go and hasn’t been able to for months. Jack promised to help and show him the aftercare that his old partners had been neglecting him. He’s making good on that promise.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: M/M, BDSM, Dom!Jack, sub!Frankie, impact play (with a flogger), oral (M receiving), praise kink, dirty talk (it’s Whiskey here), anal, unprotected sex, alcohol, food mention. (I think that’s it but let me know if it isn’t!)

A/N: Y’all, it’s finally here! I have been waiting for this chapter for a while and I am so glad it’s here. These men both need this, especially Frankie and I really wanted Jack to be the person to provide it for him. If M/M isn’t your thing, I’m not sure how you got here, but this probably isn’t the fic for you, and this chapter is definitely not your thing because that is literally all there is. Huge shoutout to my friend Agent Capri Sun and mi esposa @danniburgh for feeding my thots and beta-ing!

For those of you who don’t know, PrEP is a medication that can be prescribed to those who do not have HIV and are looking to further protect themselves against it. Why did I include this? Because on the whole, it’s recommended as a safe practice and it’s rarely mentioned in media/writing. Also, please remember BDSM revolves around SSC and/or RACK. Go learn about these things. So there’s my soapbox moment. Enjoy!

“C’mon, Flyboy, we’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

Without hesitation, Frankie stood up fluidly and grabbed his go bag from the corner of the room while Jack shut his computer down for the night and collected his keys from his desk. The energy around them was buzzing with anticipation. Jack’s outward demeanor seemed casual, but the way his whitened knuckles gripped the steering wheel as his other hand alternated between tenderly playing with the hair at Frankie’s nape and searing Frankie’s thigh, showed Jack was anything but cool, calm and collected.

Frankie’s breath was coming in shallow, shaky puffs. Funny how he could maintain his breathing while being shot at, while going through combat exercises, and even when he had to crash land their helicopter in Colombia, but feeling Jack’s hand on him as they drove back to the condo broke his composure. That large, warm hand had found its way to his thigh again, fingers pressing, squeezing gently at his inner thigh, and Frankie could hear his blood roaring in his ears.

Mercifully, the drive was short. Frankie grabbed his bag with a shaky hand and quietly followed Jack to the elevator, just a short ride to the fulfillment of a promise Frankie was aching for. The elevator doors shut, and Frankie tried to take a steadying breath. The anticipation was heavy on him, and he wanted nothing more than to lean into Jack, but didn’t want to seem clingy. That had been something that his old partners, Sam and her husband, had discouraged.

Jack could see Frankie struggling, his wants warring with his nerves. With a soft smile, Jack pulled Frankie so his back was flush against his chest, loosely wrapping his arms around Frankie’s waist so he didn’t feel trapped, and pressed soft, teasing kisses along his neck. Frankie was dizzy from the feeling of Jack’s lips, his mustache tickling at his skin, the intimacy of the action, and his embrace. He was so lost in the feeling that Jack had to clear his throat to alert him that the elevator had in fact stopped and the doors were open. Frankie blushed, quickly disentangling himself from Jack, clearing his throat while he stepped out of the elevator.

Jack’s hand appeared, warm and steadying at the small of his back as he guided Frankie to the door. Jack unlocked the door, and Frankie stepped over the threshold. He didn’t even have time to drop his bag to the floor. Jack was on him, pushing him against the door, Jack’s Stetson collided with Frankie’s cap as Jack’s mouth claimed Frankie’s. There was no care for either the Stetson or Frankie’s cap as Jack’s tender kisses from the elevator turned hungry, his tongue swiping at Frankie’s lower lip. Frankie dropped his bag, his now free hand clutching at Jack’s shirt. Jack’s fingers gripped Frankie’s hair tightly, pulling a whimper and a moan from Frankie that was muffled against Jack’s own growl of approval. His knee pressed between Frankie’s thighs, and Jack could feel the other man’s erection, hard and needy against his hip.

“Damn, Flyboy, eager aren’t ya?”

Frankie could only nod as he tried to catch his breath, Jack’s drawl making his cock twitch and his eyes blown with lust.

“Go to my room, strip, then kneel at the foot of the bed. Put a pillow down for your knees.”

Jack’s voice dropped in register and took on a delicious edge that sent a shudder down Frankie’s spine. Any reservations Frankie had about being clingy or too needy were obliterated by the desire in Jack’s commanding presence.

While Frankie did as he was told, Jack shrugged off his blazer, tossing it over the back of the sofa, then rolled up his sleeves and poured himself a drink. He savored the smooth heat in his mouth, rolled his shoulders, then made for his room. His cock hardened at the sight that waited for him.

“Hands on the bed, Flyboy.”

Frankie was quick to obey, glancing over at Jack briefly to admire him. He quickly turned his gaze back to the empty space on the bed in front of him, instinct telling him that Jack would want him to face forward. Jack strode over to one of his wardrobes, opening the doors to reveal an assortment of hanging implements. After a moment’s consideration, he pulled a flogger from its hook along with a pair of leather cuffs.

“Normally, I prefer to use rope, but we did such a number on you in our haste the other night, I’m gonna have to settle for the leather cuffs for now.”

Frankie shuddered as the distantly familiar sensation of smooth leather strips teased his back and ghosted over his shoulders.

“Color?” Jack asked. Despite it being on Frankie’s list of interests, he wanted to confirm Frankie was still ok with the implement being used in this session.

“Green.”

Frankie responded quickly and took a deep breath. Jack hummed his approval, a smile tugging at his lips when Frankie’s body moved of its own accord at the sound, leaning back to seek Jack’s touch. The flogger appeared in Frankie’s line of sight as Jack teasingly ran the leather lightly down then up Frankie’s left arm before giving the other the same treatment. Frankie fought to sit still, goosebumps left in the flogger's wake, and another shudder raced down his spine. Jack switched the flogger to his right hand, and his fingers traced the path of the flogger down from Frankie’s shoulder, over his bicep and to the tips of Frankie’s fingers. He covered Frankie’s hand with his own while he kissed his shoulder and the fading bite mark from two nights prior. Jack’s teeth grazed over the sensitive skin at the nape of Frankie’s neck and hummed at the moan that caught in Frankie’s throat.

“Are you ready, Flyboy?”

Frankie’s breath hitched, and he nodded. Jack tutted and grabbed Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Use your words, Flyboy.”

“I’m ready, sir.”

Jack’s eyes flashed at the honorific, his smile broadening as his grip tightened on the handle of the flogger.

“Good boy.”

Jack hummed his approval, brushing Frankie’s jaw with his thumb before pulling away. The whisper of leather on skin was a teasing promise of what was to come, making Frankie tense. There was a painful absence of sensation for the briefest of moments before the crack of leather filled the air, followed by another; sensation lighting up his back. Both weren’t particularly hard, intended only to warm him up, but Christ, did Frankie want more.

Jack marveled at the way Frankie’s back muscles twitched, aching to see them spasm at his hand, to make him squirm. Another two light flicks of Jack’s wrist before a resounding crack echoed with Frankie’s moan. Then again, two light cracks followed by two slightly harder ones. Frankie clenched his hands, bunching the sheets in his fists and crying out.

“Color, Flyboy?”

“Green!” Frankie keened, his back feeling delightfully warm.

“Good boy,” Jack praised again, smiling at the way Frankie whimpered in response. “Can you do more? Do you want to go harder?”

Frankie nodded, then remembered the rules.

“Yes!”

“Yes what, Flyboy?”

“Yes, sir!”

“That’s my good boy.”

Frankie gave an obscene moan at the praise, breaking off into a whimper as Jack gave him another stroke of the flogger, making Jack smile. The next one was harder, the painful whisper of leather across his back left a stinging ache. At the eighth total stroke of the flogger, warmth enveloped Frankie, a knot caught in his throat at the feeling. By the ninth stroke, Frankie was almost floating, tethered to the moment by the wave of overwhelming emotion threatening to crest in his chest.

He wanted this so badly, he needed it. He needed to let go and not think about all of the shit in his life that had converged on him the last few days. Frankie choked out a sob at the last stroke, the cresting wave of emotion breaking free and crashing over him.

Everything he had buried, his mixed emotions, the drugs, and losing his job, bubbled to the surface all at once. The tears were just as cathartic as sinking into the pain had been.

He let out a shuddering exhale, and before Jack could ask, Frankie called out “Green!”

Jack sighed, the kneeling man’s back was an angry red, stripes forming from the flogger. He adjusted himself in his jeans to get some relief, then set the flogger back on its hook and returned to the bed. Jack sat down and maneuvered them so that Frankie’s head was cradled in his lap. He understood that Frankie needed this, now more than ever probably. It was one of the reasons he had offered to do this for Frankie, to give him an outlet to just feel and let go.

“Shh, you did so well, Flyboy. You were such a good boy for me.”

Jack cooed as he stroked Frankie’s damp, curly locks. Frankie hummed in response, and Jack lifted Frankie’s chin to see his flushed face.

“Can you do more, or do you want to stop for now, Flyboy?”

Frankie blinked, his eyes hazy then he buried his face in Jack’s lap, finding it hard to think and trying to ground himself.

“I-I can do more. I want to do more.”

Jack’s breath hitched as Frankie’s cheek brushed against the cock straining in his jeans.

“Alright, Flyboy. Lean back then, hands behind your back.”

Frankie did as he was told, his back burning slightly from the flogging. Jack stood up, a steadying hand on the sweet, willing man kneeling before him. He took a moment to let his gaze find Frankie’s cock, his eyebrows raising in surprise at just how hard and leaky he was.

“Shit, boy, I’ve never seen someone get as hard or leak as much as you from just the flogger.”

He carefully secured the leather cuffs, making sure they were fixed a bit above his wrists so as to not chafe the already irritated skin, then sat back down on the bed and tugged Frankie forward. Without his hands to stop himself, Frankie’s head landed unceremoniously back in Jack’s lap with a grunt. A low groan fell from Jack’s lips as Frankie nuzzled the large bulge in Jack’s jeans. Frankie mumbled something into Jack’s lap that he couldn’t quite make out.

“What was that?”

“Said ‘s not just the flogger.”

“Oh? What is it then, Flyboy?”

Frankie squirmed, and Jack did nothing to stop him.

“S’you, never was like this before.”

Jack’s heart melted at the trust, vulnerability and adoration that was tinged with sadness in Frankie’s words. This was about more than just the clear arousal Frankie had. The look in his eyes earlier, and the way he was nuzzling him now, told Jack that Frankie had been missing the safety and ability to truly let go for a long time now. Jack was honored that Frankie was able to find that solace in him.

“Hey,” Jack’s hands cupped Frankie’s face as he bent down and kissed him tenderly, making sure to place a kiss on each of Frankie’s tear-stained cheeks. After allowing them a moment, Jack pulled back, his thumb swiping over Frankie’s lower lip, nudging insistently until Frankie took it in his mouth and sucked on it eagerly.

“D’you want to put this mouth to some good use, Flyboy?”

Frankie watched hungrily as Jack made to unbuckle his belt until he realized that Jack was waiting until Frankie had consented to go any further .

“Fuck… I mean yes, sir.”

Jack chuckled, then finished unbuckling his belt, adjusting so that he could get his jeans and boxers down to his mid-thigh. He smirked at the way Frankie stared hungrily at his cock. It was nice to know that the hunger he’d seen the night at the safehouse hadn’t been entirely drug induced.

The smirk promptly disappeared when Frankie widened his knees to balance better then leaned in and his lips enveloped the head of his cock.

“Fuck…”

The curse fell softly from Jack’s lips, a moan catching at the back of his throat. It took all of Jack’s strength not to buck up into Frankie’s mouth from the searing pleasure of Frankie bobbing up and down on his cock, moaning as he took more of Jack’s length.

Frankie smirked as best as he could, feeling proud he was able to elicit such a reaction from Jack. Strong fingers gripping tightly and twisting in his hair pulled a whine from deep in Frankie’s chest, and his eyes rolled back a bit as he felt Jack’s hand push him further down his cock until Frankie’s nose brushed Jack’s dark curls. Jack held him there for a minute, getting used to the hot warmth that surrounded his cock. He let out a breathy chuckle when Frankie’s hips jolted forward involuntarily, the feeling of being held down making him seek the sweet tantalizing friction of the bed.

“F-Fuck, Flyboy… S-shit, y’got a hot fuckin’ mouth.”

Jack started to pump into Frankie’s mouth, his other hand on Frankie’s throat to feel his cock move. He could feel the small whimpers and moans Frankie made around him, increasing arousal turning his breathing into shallow pants.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ… Such a -shit- Such a good, cock-hungry… Fuck!”

He felt Frankie start to struggle and pulled him off of his cock. They were both panting, trying to catch their breath, and Jack ran his fingers through Frankie’s hair to help soothe him. Frankie nuzzled into his lap then turned his head and breathed in Jack’s scent, marveling at the sight of Jack’s twitching cock. Smirking, Jack tenderly wiped some spit from the corner of Frankie’s mouth.

“How you doin’ down there?”

“Mmm... good.”

“Yeah?” Jack chuckled, “You sound a little cock dumb, Flyboy.”

“Maybe…” Frankie’s voice sounded dream-like and far away.

Jack put his hands on Frankie’s shoulders and pushed him back gently to see the head of Frankie’s cock flushed a needy red and leaking a small puddle on the hard floor beneath him, just missing the pillow cushioning his knees.

“Do you wanna cum, Flyboy?”

Frankie’s eyes widened at the whine that bubbled out of him, a deep flush taking a hold of his cheeks, and his gaze dropped from Jack’s dark, warm eyes.

“Yes, sir… Please.”

“Do you think you can take me?”

Jack watched Frankie intently, taking his chin between his index finger and thumb to make their gazes meet again. He didn’t want Frankie agreeing just because he thought that Jack would let him cum by doing so. Frankie bit his lip, then nodded.

“Words. I need to hear you say it, Flyboy. We don’t have to tonight if you don’t want to or can’t.”

Jack’s gaze was hard, yet tender, and Frankie felt a little lost in it, but he knew that he trusted Jack completely. He knew that if he wanted, they could stop at any time. Arousal pooled in his belly, and he knew that he wanted to take Jack, wanted to feel his weight pin him down, make him feel safe before sending him over the edge of pleasure.

“Yes sir, I-I can, and I want to, it’s just been a while.”

Jack’s chest tightened a little as he looked down at Frankie, smiling, then leaning down to kiss Frankie before moving down to nibble along the column of his neck.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow, Flyboy, and you just let me know if you need a break or to stop.”

Frankie nodded, then grumbled in surprise when Jack effortlessly hauled him up and bent him over the bed. He turned his head on the bed to breathe a bit better and saw Jack grab a bottle of lube from the nightstand.

“Do you want to use a condom? Me and Bourbon are exclusive, but I get tested regularly and am on PrEP for Statesmen. All my tests came back negative.”

Excitement tingled down Frankie’s spine. He wanted to feel him.

“No condom. I’m on PrEP too, got tested after Sam and haven’t been with anyone since.”

Jack nodded, then walked back over to the bed, his large, warm hand kneading Frankie’s ass.

The cool liquid was in stark contrast to the heat of his fingers. Jack slowly circled Frankie’s hole while he reached around and took Frankie’s cock in his other hand. Frankie’s keening moan turned into a whine when Jack gently pushed a finger inside of him.

Jack felt Frankie clench around his finger and started to lightly stroke his cock while letting him get used to the feeling. After a bit, he coated a second finger with lube and slid it in beside the first. Frankie let out a shaky breath, the muscles in his back rippling lightly.

“Look at you. You’re doing so well for me. Just take it easy, Flyboy.”

He continued to work him gently, understanding it had been a little while for Frankie. Then Frankie began to relax, slowly fucking himself back onto Jack’s fingers and forward into Jack’s fist. Jack let Frankie get used to the sensation again, adding more lube and delving deeper, harder with his fingers.

After they were able to work up to three fingers, Jack pulled out of him and took a step back, drawing a whimper from Frankie at the loss of contact. He heard the shuffle of denim as Jack shucked his jeans and boxers, then felt Jack’s steadying hand on his back.

“I’m right here, Flyboy.”

Jack murmured reassuringly while he gave himself a few strokes with his lubed up hand, he teased the hole with the tip of his cock with a feathery touch then slowly started to ease into Frankie.

“Fuckin’ Christ, Flyboy!”

Jack hissed, then moaned as he slowly worked himself inch by inch inside of Frankie, taking encouragement from Frankie’s keening and ragged breath.

“Fuck… So… -mmmmmfuckme- So full, Jack!”

Jack smirked at the way he had reduced Frankie to nothing but babbling, but his smirk quickly faded when he smacked Frankie’s ass and felt him clench in response.

“Shit, Flyboy, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”

Frankie moaned, fingers grasping helplessly at Jack’s shirt. His arms were still bound, and he needed more contact than the teasing drag of the fabric.

“Shirt… off, wanna feel you, Jack.”

He let out a low moan that filled the air as Jack leaned back, pushing himself deeper into Frankie as he unbuttoned then tugged his shirt and undershirt off. Frankie hummed when he felt Jack’s warm body envelop him, giving him the contact he wanted. Jack chuckled as Frankie’s hands sought to feel his soft tummy, fingers brushing the trail of hair that gathered there.

Pulling back, Jack grabbed the leather cuffs for leverage and he started to fuck Frankie in earnest.

“Fuck yeah, Flyboy. Taking me…. So. Fucking. Good!”

Jack’s heavy hand came down with a loud smack on Frankie’s ass, and he steadily increased his pace until Frankie was squirming and whimpering beneath him. Frankie was so close, teetering on the edge, but not quite able to get there. He felt like he was slowly being driven mad by exquisite torture.

“J-Jack! Please… I n-need-”

“Not yet, Flyboy.”

Jack gritted out, getting closer to his own orgasm. Leaning over, so his chest was as flush as it could be against Frankie’s back, Jack growled.

“Ask me nicely, Flyboy.”

“Please!” Frankie cried out, “Jack, please, I want to-”

Jack adjusted his hips, and dropped a hand to wrap around Frankie’s cock again. “Alright, let go, Frankie. Cum for me, Flyboy.” He thrusted again, hitting a different angle, finding Frankie’s prostate and causing him to cry out hoarsely as he came all over the sheets and Jack’s hand.

“Fuck!”

The answering growl that came from Jack’s throat seared Frankie’s soul, and he could feel Jack tense above him, his hips stuttering until he gave one final thrust and stiffened above Frankie. As Jack came, his grunts made Frankie’s chest flutter, the sensation of having been claimed and marked running hot in his veins.

Frankie’s breath hitched when Jack brought his fingers up to taste Frankie’s cum, and he moaned before bringing his fingers to Frankie’s mouth to give him a taste as well.

They both groaned as Jack slipped out. He took a moment to admire the mess he made of his Flyboy, soothingly rubbing Frankie’s hip.

“Alright, gimme a minute, Flyboy.” Jack’s voice was soft, trying not to interrupt the bliss that smoothed Frankie’s facial features.

Frankie grunted as Jack undid the cuffs one by one, easing Frankie’s arms to his side, massaging them gently to soothe the soreness.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t move. I’m gonna take care of you, Flyboy.”

Frankie mumbled in response. Jack cleaned himself up and returned shortly, with a soft, damp washcloth and a glass of water. He set the glass down, then began to gingerly dab the cloth over Frankie’s back, soothing him from the sting left behind by the flogger. Small little whimpers fell from Frankie’s lips at the contrast in temperature.

“Shhh, you did so well. This’ll help the burn a bit, Flyboy.”

Jack cooed, murmuring praises as he went. Once he was finished, he put the washcloth in the hamper, then wrapped the light comforter around Frankie to insulate him from Jack’s body heat. He pulled him in close, tucking Frankie under his shoulder.

“‘M so proud of you. My Flyboy… you were so good for me.

Jack kissed his ear, nuzzling the curly locks atop Frankie’s head, humming when Frankie curled in closer at his words. Frankie couldn’t do much more than that. His mind was still mostly floating on cloud nine, slowly easing back to the solid safety of being enveloped by Jack’s arms and his scent.

“You thirsty?”

Frankie nodded, but as Jack moved toward the bedside table, Frankie’s hand shot out and grabbed Jack’s wrist..

“No leaving, only water.”

Jack broke out into a hearty laugh, harmonizing with Frankie’s own laughter.

“It’s just right here on the night table.”

Frankie let him go. Jack stretched to retrieve the glass for Frankie, who took it to his lips, becoming more and more aware of his surroundings and less in the haze of subspace as he drank.

“Thank you, Jack. That was… incredible. I really needed that.”

Jack nodded and smiled down at Frankie, still nestled into his side, thumb rubbing circles over Frankie’s arm.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve done that, and I’m glad I could do that for you, Flyboy. I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t love every minute of it myself. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?”

Frankie shook his head, and Jack grunted as he peered over to look at the clock: 20:30.

“You hungry? There’s a biscuits and gravy place that delivers, and I did say I’d take care of you tonight, Flyboy.”

Frankie’s stomach growled in response and they laughed again. Jack got up and placed their order, then turned to find Frankie had retrieved his go bag and was rummaging through it.

“Shit, I barely have anything to wear. I wasn’t expecting to be gone from home this long.”

“Don’t worry about it, you can borrow mine. I know I definitely enjoyed seeing you in my clothes today.” Jack teased and winked at Frankie, pulling a flush to his cheeks. “Besides, me and Bourbon can take you shopping tomorrow.”

Frankie frowned a bit, remembering that he was technically out of a job, and though he was looking forward to a big paycheck from Pope, he had no idea when he’d next be able to get a decent job flying.

“Uh, I don’t really think I could afford much out here. I usually just wear cargo pants and a t-shirt or button down.”

Jack scoffed, “I said we’d take you shopping, not that you’d be paying, Flyboy. Either Statesman’ll pay or I will. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Frankie squirmed. He was not accustomed to such things, but Jack’s voice left little room for argument. Shortly after, Jack went to pick up their food from the lobby, and they promptly devoured it upon his return. Frankie sat back with a groan, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Time to hit the hay, I reckon.”

Frankie nodded and made his way to the guest bedroom. Jack frowned, putting a hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“I’d rather have you in my bed again tonight... if you’re alright with that?”

“Y-yeah, I’d like that.”

Jack nodded, then threw away the trash and tugged Frankie along to bed. He smiled as Frankie scooted to curl up beside him, imagining how things would be once you were in bed with them as well.

Frankie thought to himself how easy this felt, how good it felt. Hell, maybe this was something he could do and not have it end up like before. Just in this night alone, Jack had done more for him than his old partners had the entire time the three of them had been together. Despite how easy or how right it felt, Frankie knew that any relationship, especially one with three people, required a lot of communication and effort.

He couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather do that work with than you and Jack.

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